Walk forward, into the world

Title: Walk forward, into the world
Author: Ainzfern
Genre: Ai no Kusabi – Post OVA
Code: Iason/Riki
Rating: NC-17
Parts: WIP – 2/?

Measured footsteps echoed softly in the evening air as Iason Mink slowly crossed the broad balcony that graced the frontage of his Eos penthouse. Glass of wine in hand, the soft breeze pushing his flowing hair back from his face for a moment, Iason set his free hand on the balcony wall and gazed out across the bright lights and graceful constructions of Midas. He raised his glass slowly, reverently inhaling the fine vintage before taking an equally slow sip of the ruby colored liquid. He rolled the wine around in his mouth for a moment, savoring the rich woodiness, the sharp tannins, before swallowing it down.

As he stood there, watching the sun setting over his beautiful city, he felt the side of his mouth quirk upwards slightly. It was an odd and fleeting expression, a little half smile that ghosted across his flawless features and contained more irony than humor.

Could it only have been three months ago? Iason shook his head and took another sip of his wine. In Dana Bahn as he had sat beside a dying young mongrel, his own body rapidly shutting down from a mortal wounding and the poisonous self-administered smoke of a black moon cigarette, the sight of Midas by sunset was one that he had truly believed he would never see again.

It had been a miracle that he had survived at all. Raoul Am had told him that several times now, still marveling at the providence of it.

From what Raoul had told him, as Dana Bahn had exploded around Iason and his ill-fated companion, a section of inner wall had fallen over them and, rather than crushing them, the structure had wedged against part of the massive machinery still housed inside the building, partially shielding them from the worst of the final blast. When Raoul’s rescue team had found him, Iason had been burned, his legs torn away, his powerful heart faltering from toxins and the shock of blood loss, but there had been enough life left there to salvage him.

To bring him back from the brink.

Iason turned slightly, catching his own reflection in the full glass plate windows that ran the length of the penthouse fronting the balcony. He saw his image, still tall and strong, his body beautifully proportioned and graceful, lean flanked and broad shouldered as any perfect Blondie should be and his legs… as long and as elegant as they ever were.

“An amniotic tank,” he murmured to himself, still staring in mild amazement at his own whole and solid reflection. He chuckled softly and turned back to his contemplation of the darkening city skyline. “Who would ever have thought of such a thing?”

Only Jupiter, apparently.

But, Riki... Iason’s eyes closed for a moment, a slow deep sigh leaving his chest, a wave of hurt and sorrow washing through his gut. It was a familiar feeling by now.

A strange and sad thing for an Elite Blondie, of this he had no doubt.

Riki had not been so fortunate, Raoul had told Iason upon his emergence from the healing tank in Jupiter’s inner sanctum. He knew, even now, that Raoul still remained baffled and disturbed by Iason’s affection for the mongrel human, but at the time, delivering that dreadful news, he had amazed Iason with his empathy and his genuine regard for Iason’s feelings in the matter.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Raoul was still being kindly deferential about Iason’s loss.

Even now. Three months after the fact.

It was mostly noticeable is his careful silence on the issue. Raoul did not speak of Riki, which Iason had to confess he was glad about. After all, what was there to say? The half-wild mongrel had been, even by Iason’s own admittance, a shocking aberration in the life of the highest ranking Elite in Tanagura. The whole sordid thing should never have been allowed to get so out of hand.

Iason should never have lost his perspective.

But Riki was dead now. Thus, the matter was closed.

And, there were times that Iason found himself thinking, that if he just kept telling himself that, he would eventually come to believe it.

“I beg your pardon, Sir, for interrupting you,” A soft, light voice spoke from the open balcony door behind Iason, “But Raoul Am has arrived to see you.”

Turning, his expression once more coolly composed, Iason nodded perfunctorily at his newly purchased Furniture, Dane. As much as he could be pleased about anything, he could confess that Dane made an agreeable addition to his much-reduced household. The young man was unobtrusive and undemanding, attending to his tasks quietly and efficiently. In fact, unless Iason summoned him, he was hard pressed to notice Dane’s presence in the penthouse at all.

“Very good,” Iason replied softly. “Attend to his refreshments and inform him that I shall join him in a moment.”

Bowing his head, Dane turned and quietly left to do as instructed.

Looking towards the now-dark city one more time, Iason drained the last of his wine and set his glass down on the wall, considering the changes he had made since returning home after his remarkable regeneration. Kyaru, his former Furniture, was gone as was his little female pet. Raoul had, at his request, arranged for an Elite colleague in the syndicate to add them to his own household. To his credit, Iason acknowledged, the man Raoul had chosen did, in fact, possess at least a modicum of decency to his nature. Iason’s former chattel would be treated well enough, and that thought satisfied him.

He had not tried to explain his reasoning behind the decision. In truth, he didn’t really understand it all that well himself. But, the fact had been that he had simply not wanted anyone associated with the period of time Riki had spent as his pet, in his home anymore.

Too distracting. There were too many memories here already.

He had purchased Dane only a few weeks prior and, thus far, the arrangement was working well. Dane was young, but not inexperienced in running an Elite household, and he tolerated his new Master’s… unusual restrictions without comment.

Iason had made it very clear from the start. Dane would not be required to bathe him, or to dress him, or to attend to his hair.

Dane would not, in fact, be required to touch him at all.

If the Furniture had indeed had an opinion about that, he had kept it to himself. After all, a household without pets was a vastly easier household to keep in order. Iason suspected that Dane was probably very pleased to have gained such an uncomplicated position.

Turning his back on the night, Iason walked inside the penthouse, nodding graciously at Raoul as his friend rose from his seat and stepped forward to greet him. They clasped arms for a brief moment before, with a wave of his hand, Iason gestured for Raoul to reseat himself, sinking down into his own armchair even as he did so.

“Well,” Raoul’s face was lit by the smallest of smiles, “You look rather more like your old self today.” He reached out and selected a slice of chilled fruit that Dane had placed on the low table between them. “Still dressing yourself, are you?” he asked, his lips twitching slightly.

Resisting a powerful urge to roll his eyes at Raoul’s teasing tone, Iason simply nodded.

Raoul’s brow arched, his wicked delight at the notion quite evident. “That still amuses me, you know.”

Snorting softly, Iason selected his own slice of fruit. “Many things amuse you, Raoul. You’re easily entertained.”

Acknowledging this point with an amiable shrug, Raoul settled more comfortably back into his seat, arranging his long limbs in a relaxed and open pose. “Well,” he lifted one hand and pointed to himself, “I am here, just as requested… What was it you wished to discuss with me?”

“I believe it is time for me to get back to work, Raoul,” Iason told him, his voice soft and sure. “I feel it is about time I usurped your provisional leadership and reinstated my own permanency.”

An expression of deep satisfaction crossed Raoul’s face for a moment. “I was hoping you would say that,” he sat forward slightly. “The federation government has been making overtures again in regards to sending another trade delegation to negotiate in Partia with the syndicate. I rather think you might be the right Elite for the job. Your first act upon resuming your rightful role, if you will.”

“Ah,” Iason nodded sagely, “So they found a suitable replacement for the unfortunate Mr. Hazell, then?”

Carefully assuming a composed expression, the effect of which was somewhat ruined by the evil little glint in his green eyes, Raoul nodded. “They did indeed. A man by the name of Chey Neeson. Spotless record, apparently.” He vented a mockingly sad little sigh. “Such a shame about his poor predecessor, however.”

Propping one elbow on the arm of his chair and curling his elegant fingers under his chin, Iason regarded him with tolerant amusement. “Wasn’t it, though?”

“Hmm. Who would ever have thought Mr. Hazell would have had so many sordid little habits?”

Iason lifted one shoulder briefly. “Who would ever have thought he wouldn’t have made more of an effort to keep them a secret?”

“Quite,” Raoul’s entire being radiated delighted malevolency, “A money launderer, an embezzler of his own government’s funds, a sickening pederast, a closet drug addict...”

“…A terribly incompetent director of assassination attempts…”

“Oh yes, there is that too,” Regretfully shaking his head once more, Raoul sighed. “I suppose, when one considers it dispassionately, it was really only a matter of time before someone found it all out and alerted the senate.”

“As someone ultimately did.” Iason quirked a brow at his friend.

Dropping all the pretenses, Raoul chuckled and sat back once more. “Some day, you’ll have to tell me how you did it.”

“It wasn’t all that difficult.” Iason waved a dismissive hand, “It was made much easier by the fact that most of the allegations happened to be true.”

“It was still rather elegant.”

“I suppose,” Iason’s face became more serious then. “Tell me more about Neeson.”

Choosing another slice of fruit, Raoul nodded. “There’s not much to tell, in truth. As I said, spotless career in the federation government. He lives a quiet private life, no scandals that I can find, and I can usually find something.”

“This is true.”

“His political opponents absolutely loathe him...”

“That’s encouraging.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Raoul smiled again. “I’ve met him. Intelligent. A good negotiator, although I doubt he’s a match for you. I rather like him. I think we can do some seriously beneficial business with him.”

“Good,” Iason set his shoulders decisively. “I plan to resume my post at the start of the new week. Once I have settled back in to both our satisfactions, I’ll make contact with Mr. Neeson and arrange the trade talks.”

“It will be good to have you back, Iason,” Raoul said seriously. “I’ve done a passable job, but…”

“You miss your science lab?”

“Oh yes.” Raoul’s eyes were warm with affection as he met Iason’s knowing gaze.

Iason considered his friend for a moment, how much they had been through, the history they shared. Although it was something that they would probably never speak of, he knew that Raoul had protected him as much as he could during his involvement with Riki. An Elite Blondie to the tips of his elegant fingers, Raoul had covered for him, lied for him, warned him when he could...

Theirs was not a friendship of affectation, it was real.

At the deepest level of his soul, Iason was grateful for that fact.

Especially now.

“I need to see Jupiter.” Iason said suddenly then, abruptly altering the conversation to a new course.

For a moment, just an instant, Raoul’s face grew absolutely still before almost immediately smoothing out again into an expression of unconcerned interest. In fact, the strange look had passed so quickly that Iason fancied he might have imagined it.

“Oh?” Raoul tilted his head slightly

“Yes,” Iason’s rich mouth curved upward slightly at one corner. “I have been feeling her call… her summons, for want a better word, for some few days now. She’s not impatient yet, but I believe she will become so if I don’t go and commune with her.”

“Any idea what she might want?” Once again, Iason’s attention was caught by his friend’s response. The tone in Raoul’s question had been ever so slightly more intense than it rightfully should have been.

Iason knew him well. He could spot the signs of anxiety on the man. He shrugged, inwardly resolving not to question it just yet, but instead watching Raoul closely, “Most likely it is just to re-connect. I haven’t communed with her at all since the night you and Katze brought me home from the sanctum where I was regenerated.” He smiled again, just slightly. “It’s almost as if her attention has been elsewhere these past few weeks.”

“Well,” Raoul’s tone became brisk and business-like once more. “You’ll have to get used to doing that again on a regular basis once you resume your place.” He rose to his feet, straightening his coat neatly. “I suppose it only makes sense to start sooner, rather than later.”

Also rising gracefully, Iason held out his hand, smiling when Raoul clasped it and shook it firmly. “Thank you for coming.”

“Any time. You know that.”

“I do.” He paused a moment, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Raoul… you are pleased about being demoted back to your previous position, aren’t you?”

Raoul’s eyes were filled with nothing but honest sincerity as he answered. “Iason? I am more pleased by the prospect than even you could ever guess.”

Satisfied, Iason dropped his hand, escorting him the front door of the Penthouse. “I will be seeing Jupiter tomorrow, I think. Shall I drop in on your office afterwards?”

Snorting softly, Raoul nodded. “Only if you plan to immediately leave again, in my company, to a suitable bar.”

Clapping Raoul’s shoulder warmly, Iason nodded. “Agreed. Have a good evening, Raoul.”

“You too, my friend.”

Iason stood there for some moments after Raoul had entered the lift, a deeply contemplative frown on his face. After a while his shook his head a little, almost dismissively, before quietly closing the door.

TBC...