Dissatisfaction Town

The Skype Call

Kiryu Kyosuke sat in his new lodgings, the large open plan apartment above the town hall. Formerly lived in by Malcom and very briefly Lotin, he had his work cut out for him disposing of old snot rags and discarded clothes, gingerly picking them up with kitchen tongs and binning them with a smug good riddance. The most amusing thing he'd found so far was a whip and a pair of Barbara's lacy underwear. And he hadn't even cleaned under the bed yet.

His laptop buzzed from the corner and he slid into the deck chair, firing it up. On the screen read the Skype logo and an incoming call from Yusei. Of course he had to accept. Yusei's stupid face popped up dressed in his tank top. Kiryu considered it must be late evening in Japan, he of course wouldn't be dressed for outside.

"Hey, Kiryu!" He smiled from the screen.

"Good evening," Kiryu shrugged, fighting the urge to down a mouthful from the bottle of whiskey stationed right beside the laptop. "What can I do you for?"

Adopting the western twang of the town, of all things. Switching from English to Japanese and back again is hard. He thought, the primary action of someone who spent literally all his life living inside his own head.

"Just calling to see how my old friend is doing," Yusei smiled. "It gets lonely sometimes without you. Of course the other guys are great! But I miss that..."

"Maturity?" Kiryu offered helpfully with a twitch of a smile, learning back in his chair and crossing his arms all serious-like.

"Yeah," Yusei agreed. "Sometimes you miss the serious, quiet life when you're caught up in all this chaos,"

"Plenty of chaos in this end I assure you,"

"So I noticed you avoided my question of how you're doing?"

Kalin stiffened, coughing awkwardly into his own hand. "You know, just kind of stressed. Nothing important! Just the move and everything...taking over the town...responsibility blah blah blah,"

*

Yusei's brow furrowed worriedly. Not only was Kiryu the most irresponsible person he'd ever known, but the man was incredibly fragile and barely recovered from a massive long-term depressive episode. Literally attempting to commit suicide through torture and exhaustion leaves a person vulnerable to falling into traps of their own design.

"And you're still sober right?" Yusei demanded, searching every inch of Kiryu's face for a lie. He didn't need to, because instead of answering Kiryu just looked away and shamefully pursed his lips.

"Kiryu!" Yusei scolded.

"Yusei, I-"

"I don't want to hear it," he snapped back. "What did we decide you should do if you ever fell of the wagon? If those thought of yours started coming back?!"

Kiryu caught himself before he rolled his eyes over the call. If he did that Yusei would have his head. "Call you. Talk it over. Whatever Yusei, I'm under a lot of stress,"

"I know," Yusei nodded in affirmation. "That's why I'm coming over,"

"What?!" Kiryu demanded incredulously, almost falling out his desk chair at the utter weirdness of the statement. "Yusei, you can't just come to America randomly from Japan whenever you want!"

"Why not?"

"Because that's not what happens! People don't just do that!"

"Since when are we 'people' Kiryu?" Yusei offered, shakil his head. "I don't care what you say. I'll be down his weekend,"

Kiryu watched his face soften from stern to caring, eyes wetting with pre-tears preparing to fall. "I care about you. I want to help, Kiryu,"

Kiryu sighed, rubbing his forehead as he realised he'd have to pencil in an unscheduled visit among the three million other things he had to do that week. Freeing five hundred slaves from a mining mountain and prosecuting half the town over it was eating away at any possible free time. "Fine, Yusei. Okay, let's do it," he decided. "Listen I need to go. I...you know..."

"I know," Yusei nodded. "Me too,"

Kalin gave an American-style salute. "Over and out,"

Yusei shook his head with a smile and ended the Skype call. Three years hiding out in America and Kiryu remained the most culturally uneducated, awkward Asian stereotype in existence. One would think he'd learned how to behave in the West from watching James Bond films - and as if happened that was accurate.

From the second floor, Jack demanded. "Yusei, come to bed, what's taking so long?!"

Yusei looked up to the balcony and shot a reserved smile at his lover. Climbing the stairs and slinking into bed, he cuddled against Jack's side, leaning in the crook of his shoulder. Feeling safe and protected. "Hey Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I was talking to Kiryu and..." Jack shot up, having suspected in a jealous paranoia this was going to happen for some time.

"You are not going to America!"

"Jack!" Yusei whined. "He's going through things and he needs me to help him out. I don't have any feelings for him I promise!"

Jack growled. "It's not you I'm worried about," he scoffed, leaning over to turn off the light. "Let Kiryu deal with his own shit. This always happens. You throw yourself into his situation and all he does is drag you down to his twisted level!"

Yusei glared, ripping away and turning around to face away from Jack on the cold, unforgiving side of the bed. "I'm going to America this weekend,"