.

.

Eiji tries to plan this out carefully. Like Ash would.

He waits until the last nurse visits, checking his temperature, when Eiji finishes his jello cup. She's really kind. Sally — Nurse Sally. Blonde highlights. Deep brown eyes. A young American woman living with her girlfriend and their two cats.

No more IVs or breathing cannula for him. Eiji doesn't have to worry about ripping them out. He's considered on the mend.

Sing visited yesterday, burying his hands into his vinyl, purple-and-yellow jacket pockets and grouching about Ash not visiting Eiji while he's hospitalized.

He should be here, Eiji. He should be.

Eiji understands why Ash hasn't… as much as it hurts.

Ash wants him on a plane back to Japan because it's safer for Eiji.

Eiji is sorry then. He's about to disappoint the man he loves.

The walls of Eiji's throat clench up. He should admit that by now, Eiji supposes. That's what that feeling is when Ash gazes at him with moistened eyes, or when he wheeze-laughs over a joke and sprawls out on Eiji's lap, or when Ash hugs him back.

Strategy for an underground knife fight may not be his expertise… but Eiji can leave a hospital room undetected… right?

Eiji maneuvers himself off the hospital bed, huffing and testing his wounded side.

So far, so good.

.

.

They've moved him out of ICU.

Eiji's recovery room currently is beside to the nurse's station where people ask for directions.

He peeks out to a long stretch of corridor, narrowing his eyes and scrutinizing the area.

No doctors, no nurses or visitors. That's good.

Eiji is without underwear in the light blue hospital gown, and doesn't know where his change of clothes has been taken.

That's not so good.

Eiji scolds himself. He should have asked Sing to borrow him an oversized hoodie and jeans.

He ducks into station for the Lost and Found cardboard box. A heather gray Cornell Tech sweatshirt with a red wine stain. A pair of pants four sizes too big for Eiji. Brown buckled leather sandals. Everything else is kid-sized or not even clothes at all.

His gunshot wound complains, aching and twinging in hot, branching pain, but his stitches are new. Eiji can walk.

It'll be fine.

Eiji stuffs his letter for Ash into a back-pocket and wraps up a girl's button-up shirt to tie around his waist. Yellow-plaid color. That's good enough for a makeshift belt. He wanders out into the corridor, peering cautiously at the dark-reflective security cameras.

If Ash was here, Ash would have found a way to disable them. Or he would have blacked out the camera lens with spray paint.

Ibe appears to be in the waiting room. He's fast asleep in a chair, arms folded. Eiji sends out a mental apology, sneaking into another adjacent corridor, closest to an EXIT sign, and nearly bumping into a male nurse wheeling a cart of dirtied bed pans.

The nurse observes him skeptically.

Eiji grimaces, lowering his head and saying sorry, retreating.

.

.

Nobody tries to stop him or follow him out.

Eiji tries to pick up speed, running for a good distance, and then slowing when his body feels that heavy, unpleasant sting by his ribs. He's a little lightheaded. Dehydrated. Maybe it was too early to leave the hospital. Eiji thinks of something else instead.

Sing says two of his men shot Eiji. He takes responsibility as their leader, but Sing has no idea why they did it. Not yet anyway.

These downtown streets seem familiar. Eiji discovers the lamppost that's always flickering on and off when he's going to the mini-mart. His fingers trail over Bones and Kong and Alex's initials carved into the rusty paint. They used a switchblade. Eiji remembers being there, watching intently and listening to Ash snort in amusement as the three other men roughhoused.

One of Ash's men — a white boy with jet black hair cropped over his ice-blue eyes — comes out of nowhere.

"Hey, Eiji!"

"Hey!" Eiji shouts, waiting for him to join Eiji. Most of the gang knew Eiji by his name and facial features. They were nice to him.

"You looking for Boss?" The boy juts a thumb towards the closed-off building across the street. "Top floor. Watch for rats."

Eiji nods, thanking him quietly and crossing over.

.

.

The running didn't help. Going up a couple flights of stairs doesn't feel so good either.

Eiji's hand flattens over his bandages underneath the sweatshirt. He's sore and dizzy, but it'll be fine, Eiji repeats.

It'll be fine.

"Ash?" Eiji calls out, hoping to not startle him into grabbing a revolver. He peeks into one of the upstairs rooms.

Brown grime and dust covers the floor. Not very livable. Cobwebs sway in a breeze traveling in with Eiji moving from room to room.

Ash sits on a mildewed cot, his hands dangling limply between his opened knees. His green eyes unfocused. Eiji may be sweaty and overly pale, and running a fever, but he's much better in comparison. Ash doesn't look like he's slept or eaten.

"Ash…"

The troubling weight of Eiji's fears and doubts lessens. Ash finally looks up, seeming uncertain.

"Eiji?"

Eiji smiles, walking over to him as soon as the other man climbs to his feet.

Relief floods Ash's expression. He latches onto Eiji like a drowning man, exhaling shakily. One of Ash's hand gently touches Eiji's lower back, and the other cradles Eiji's head to him. Eiji smiles harder, hugging Ash's middle and shutting his eyes. Eiji's chin settles onto Ash's white-tee shoulder.

"When did you get out of the hospital?"

"Just now," Eiji tells him, noticing the slight concern when they pull apart. "I'm okay. Really."

Ash's hand shifts down, resting to Eiji's wounded side. Eiji's face twitches. He hasn't noticed Eiji's clothes or doesn't mind.

"I know you thought you lost me, Ash… but you didn't. I didn't go anywhere." Eiji grabs onto Ash's fingers, moving them to rest over his heart, holding his own fingers benevolently over Ash's. "And I'm not saying goodbye to you," he insists. "Not ever."

That must have been the right thing to say. Ash's gaze softens on him.

"Eiji," he mumbles. Ash reaches out, stroking a thumb over Eiji's jaw and cheek. "God, you…"

"You can, you know…"

"What?" Ash's voice goes hoarse.

"Kiss me," Eiji whispers, smiling. His dark eyes bright with affectionate mischief.

A deep and rumbling noise leaves Ash. He clasps onto Eiji's hip, mirroring the smile. Both of Eiji's hands hover to the sides of Ash's head, drifting past and hooking fingers snugly to the back of Ash's neck. "Do you want me to kiss you…?"

Eiji's pulse quickens.

"Yeah," he breathes, already feeling Ash's lips nudging lightly to his.

Ash knows how to kiss. Eiji doesn't mind letting him take over, showing him how, but he realizes that Ash is expecting him to kiss first. For Eiji to take the lead. For Eiji to taste him and fulfill him and need him in some way without conditions.

Nobody has done that for Ash.

Eiji's heart sinks.

To Ash… the people coming and going in his life, and especially adults… they were devils. They wanted to only use him like a tool. He's been forced to do vile things out of necessity and powerlessness from a too-young age. It's why Ash doesn't like getting kissed, or touched by others, worshiped or praised or doing anything sexual in any form unless it's on his terms.

Eiji would never force him to acknowledge his emotions or want Ash to be anything he couldn't be. He wants Ash for Ash.

He kisses Ash softly, their mouths caressing and dry.

Ash stifles down what Eiji assumes is a tearful sound. Eiji smiles against him, brushing a finger under Ash's trembling, wet eye.

"It's okay," Eiji whispers, feeling Ash kiss him fiercely and groan.

One kiss turns into another, and Eiji's head spins again but for a different reason than pain. Ash's lips feel warm and spit-sticky. Eiji opens his mouth to suck in air, and his tongue darts out. Maybe it's an accidental lick over Ash's bottom lip, but maybe not.

Maybe.

Ash snickers, his front teeth exposing. The tip of Ash's tongue slides over the rim of Eiji's mouth. Oh, god.

That's how the kiss deepens, and Eiji remembers before. He remembers when Ash pressed his tongue inside Eiji's mouth with a capsule stuffed with a teeny tiny message for Eiji. This time, it's just Ash's tongue rolling against his, exploring the other man.

Eiji feels like he's quivering. He breaks the kiss, pulling Ash into a sit on the cot and looking determined.

"… That's not your sweatshirt," Ash says, eyeing him wryly.

Eiji pants. "Doesn't matter," he mutters, leaning in and catching Ash's lips to his.

A low, delighted hum.

.

.

He gets a little lost in Ash. But, truthfully, Eiji wouldn't wanna be anywhere else.

Sunlight filters into a grimy, cracked window, haloing in yellow-golden strands. Ash pushes back his hair and mumbles something. Eiji finds himself laying back, groggy and with his arms wrapped tightly to Ash's neck. One of his legs bent up.

"Eiji?" Ash says, raising his voice a little. He places a hand calmly over Eiji's forearm. "You still with me?"

Oh.

Oh, god.

Eiji completely forgot about getting turned on. Ash's eyes lower momentarily to the noticeable bulge in Eiji's pants. He whines under his breath, trying to convince his erection to disappear. Not now… god, godno, not right now…

"I-I'm sorry, Ash," Eiji mumbles, swallowing hard.

Ash shrugs. "It's just your dick," he replies. "You haven't done anything wrong. It happens."

"But…"

To prove his point. Ash cups his palm over Eiji's groin. The other man shivers, blushing and yelping out Ash's name. The slyly grinning look on Ash's face only heats Eiji's blood further. "You're such a baby," Ash murmurs.

Like he's pretending to reprimand him. And he's younger than Eiji.

Eiji frowns up at him, yelping again and wide-eyed when Ash's hand settles onto his thigh.

"Would you be okay with…?"

The question hangs between them. Ash gauges his reaction, touching fingertips over Eiji's muscular thigh. Eiji's face reddens.

Is… he…?

"If… that's okay by you…?"

Ash laughs. "That's why I'm asking."

"Y-yes…" Eiji stammers, going bashful. "Yeah, yes… uhm…"

He moans and squirms against Ash's fingers between his legs, the heel of his palm rubbing down on Eiji's cock hardening. "Look at me, Eiji," Ash orders faintly, his jade-green eyes going tender when Eiji does. "We can stop… whenever you wanna…"

"Uhhuh…" Eiji's mutter goes high-pitched. "Hhn…"

Ash's moan echoes between kisses and Eiji's own whining noises.

This is the first time Eiji has ever been touched like this, by anyone else or himself, and… it's with the first person who kissed him and meant it… even if Ash didn't, not at first… ohh, Eiji needs a clearer head… and a body that doesn't hurt while tensing…

Eiji inhales sharply, bucking into Ash's fingers. He hasn't moved from lying down on the cot. Ash gets him off, slowly, crowding him, mumbling to Eiji, mumbling Eiji's name like it's his prayer. He nuzzles his nose to Eiji's nose and cheek, watching every hitch of breath and facial twitch. If for any reason he senses Eiji's discomfort, he knows Ash will pull away. Eiji trusts him.

Ash kisses Eiji's swollen lips, mouthing down his jaw, his neck. His lips suckle down bruising-hard. Ash's teeth pinch down.

Eiji's vision spins.

He moans out, writhing and flushing when Ash uses his teeth once more, leaving a blood-dark mark into Eiji's skin.

Ash's hand curls. His fingers grip for the outline of Eiji's cock.

Eiji gasps, arching into the other man and at the mercy of the quick, hot orgasm. His mouth slackens open. "Good," Ash teases, easing him through the pleasure. He kisses Eiji's mouth, smirking. "I'm gonna get us some water, old man. Hang tight."

Ash vanishes out of Eiji's line of sight.

They really did that, didn't they?

He covers his face, pushing hands over his forehead and into Eiji's dark curls.

Eiji doesn't regret it. Not at all.

They just…

"Sit up," Ash says, holding a bottle of water. He cracks it open when Eiji gets up on an elbow, tipping it towards Eiji's lips. Eiji drinks but winces at the piercing, furious agony of his gunshot wound, coughing on a mouthful of water. Ash's brow furrows.

"What's the matter…"

"Mm'fine," Eiji protests, getting up and clutching onto himself. It feels hot. Hotter than before. The wine stain on Eiji's sweatshirt darkens into a puddle of blood. He's losing the strength in his legs when Eiji stands on his own. Everything blackens. "Mmh—"

"Eiji!" Ash cries out. He snatches onto a fainting, weakening Eiji, cradling him in his arms. "Eiji!"

He…

He shouldn't sound so terrified, Eiji thinks, his mind blackening. Ash shouldn't feel that way…

Eiji doesn't want him… to worry…

.

.

But where is he…?

There's an overwhelming sterile odor in Eiji's nostrils. He wakes up in another hospital gown, resting on a mound of pillows. The bouquets of yellow roses and white daisies look familiar on the tablestand. Eiji wrinkles his nose, yawning. He's numbed out.

"Eiji…"

Ash looks more exhausted than before. He wears a beige trenchcoat, the collar turned up. A Yankees baseball cap with Ash's yellow-golden hair stuffed in it. That's right. If the police know that Ash lives, then he would be in trouble with the law. Ash rips off the tinted aviator sunglasses, looking infuriated. "When were you going to tell me, Eiji?" he barks.

"Hhwah…?" Eiji mumbles, his tongue dried out. He stares down to the IV needles taped in his arm.

"You weren't discharged. Ibe said you snuck out!" Ash seethes, his fists clenched. "You friggin' tore all of your damn stitches!"

"S'rry…"

Ash's chest heaves. He growls, collapsing onto Eiji's bed and dropping face-first next to Eiji's stomach, snuggling against him. Eiji inches his hand to Ash's fingers, grasping on and interlacing, feeling Ash's hand squeezing with all of its might.

"Don't ever do that again…" Ash whispers.

Outside of Eiji's hospital room door, there's a flurry of smaller, lighter footsteps. The door crashes open.

Ash practically throws himself over Eiji, diving a hand into his jeans waistband. No gun. No immediate protection from the sudden intruder.

"Eiji!" comes a holler. A young girl rushes in.

She's got on a floral-pink bucket hat and a lace-sleeved, white undershirt beneath her pink overalls. Pink sneakers with white daisies on the soles. Twin rubber-bands, pink as everything else, hold her dark curls into pigtails.

"Tomoko?" Eiji says, growing more and more baffled. She's got a squarer, thinner face than Eiji — sort of like their father.

Father.

Father walks into the hospital room, his walking cane tapping to the floor. He glances around. His age lines seem to have deepened since Eiji last saw him. Momma follows in, waving away Ibe and nervously gripping her shawl. Eiji groans out.

"Oh no…"

"What have you done, Eiji," Momma fusses in Japanese, approaching Eiji's bed. Neither her or Father understood anything beyond little pieces of English — which must be why Tomoko is here. There's no way they would encourage Tomoko to come to the United States after this disaster. He's the problem child now, Eiji realizes in dread. Tomoko's off the hook. "Look at you."

"Momma, I called you…"

"And I came. I came here," she insists. Ash has backed off with Eiji's father and Tomoko, glancing between the mother and her son in curiosity. He knows as much Japanese as Eiji's parents know English. "You are leaving. You are coming home."

"No, Momma. I can't," Eiji says weakly.

"What is that on your neck, Eiji!?"

They argue in quiet and urgent Japanese. Ash mutters to himself, removing his baseball cap. Tomoko's eyes widen at the glimpse of yellow-golden strands and eyes as green as jadestone. Eiji's father whispers to Tomoko, and she turns to Ash.

"Thank you for looking after my son," Tomoko says in clear and strong English, translating. "You must be a good friend to Eiji."

Ash's mouth softens.

Nurse Sally notices them all, pointing out the rules about exceeding the number of visitors at a time.

Tomoko speaks to Father and Momma, seeming to convince them to step out and go to Ibe for more information about what's been going on and when to leave. Eiji rubs the bridge of his nose. She barely contains her laughter as soon as they're out.

"So… what's with you two?" Tomoko asks, grinning.

Eiji blinks. "What…?"

"I'm not an idiot, Eiji. That's a hickey." She points to Eiji's neck. He gulps. Eiji's fingers trace over the dark bruising mark. "And you were holding hands with Pretty American Boy over here," Tomoko adds, looking in haughtiness to Ash who smirks.

"Tomoko!" Eiji wails, his face heating up.

"My good luck love charm worked, didn't it? It totally did. I knew it." She folds her bony, tan arms. "You're welcome."

"Don't…"

"Don't tell Momma and Father, yeah, yeah," Tomoko says, sighing. "I know, Eiji."

Ash blinks owlishly like Eiji when she puts out her hand.

"Nice to meet you." Tomoko gives him an intrigued look. "I'm Eiji's little sister. You got a name, Pretty American Boy?"

His hand clasps lightly over hers.

"… Aslan."

"Welcome to the family," Tomoko says gleefully, fleeing and wiggling her eyebrows.

Eiji groans, slapping his hands noisily over his face, unable to ignore Ash's burst of wondrous laughter.

.

.

He misses the twinkling stars. New York is too bright with vibrant neon colors and artificial light.

They let Ash back into the hospital recovery room on the promise that he will let Eiji rest. And make sure Eiji doesn't try to leave again. That's good. Eiji has no desire to go anywhere Ash isn't. He only left because Ash wasn't here with him.

Love, Eiji reminds himself. He loves Ash.

Love is what Eiji believes in most.

The other man stands silently by Eiji's opened window, peering at the road below.

"Ash…?" Eiji calls out. Ash peers around to him, quirking an eyebrow. "Or… I guess do you wanna be called Aslan now?"

"By you and your family," he mutters. "That's it."

Eiji squints his black eyes, mumbling out Aslan, feeling the soft and hissing syllables thrum in his mouth.

Something in Ash's expression changes drastically. He's less solemn. Ash darts from the window, seating himself on Eiji's bed and meeting gazes. Eiji smiles so widely, hugging him and feeling Ash curl against Eiji without putting pressure on his healing wound.

"D'you know where they put my letter…?"

"The one with my name on it?" Ash murmurs. "I hid it before anyone noticed. Is there something special about it or what?"

Eiji thinks of all of those precious and emotionally charged words. The plane ticket dated to board tomorrow. Ibe has Eiji's ticket along with his. He agreed to take the far seat while Ash can have the middle and Eiji stays by the plane-window. Eiji wants to show Ash the green sprawling lands and mountains of Japan while they were still in the air moments before landing.

"You'll see."

"Hm."

.

.