Up in Flames

Cradling the blue porcelain mug in his hands, he brought it to his lips, welcoming and savoring the scent and taste of the green tea it contained. He closed his eyes as he sipped, separating the flavor of tea from honey as the liquid rolled across his tongue and down his throat, warming his insides. As good as it tasted, he secretly wondered if it was doing anything to help his energy level. His eyes were heavy and burned from strain. His breathing was rythmic and deep, the kind you lull yourself to sleep with each night.

The desk top before him was littered with manilla folders and official looking documents. Reaching up to scratch the top of his head, he peered at the piece of paper directly in front of him, glaring down at it as he took another sip of tea.

The official police report. Or, at least, a copy of it. Setting the mug aside, he grasped the report in his hands, his eyes scanning it desperately, hungrily, for information he knew wasn't there.

A hand touched his left shoulder and he bolted upright, knocking over the chair he had been using and pushing the desk forward a good six inches in the process, its metal legs screeching on the tile floor. Balling his right hand into a fist, he swung around, turning to face none other than Tom, who had realized his mistake in enough time to duck in preparation for his reaction.

"What the hell?!" Shizuo sighed, recovering himself and bending over to retrieve the chair. "Do you have a death wish?"

Straightening back to a stand, Tom adjusted his glasses and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, I didn't realize how concentrated you were." Moving around to the front of the desk, he placed both hands on it and shoved it back to its former position, glancing over the documents as he did. Turning to his friend, he shot him a look. Shizuo rolled his eyes.

"You know, going MIA for two days and then coming back carrying all of this stuff with you is just a tad worry some, Shizuo."

"Tom." His tone was harsh, a warning. "I understand, but I need you to understand that I don't need to talk about it and I don't want to talk about it."

"Those documents aren't something the police would just hand over. Especially to you." Shizuo's shoulders stiffened, his eyes shooting daggers into Tom's.

Tom placed a hand flat on the desk top and leaned closer, his face soft and full of concern.

"Listen, I know this is important to you. I don't care if you bring it with you to work. What I do care about is how you got it. I know nothing good comes from stooping that low, hell, so do you.

"You know better than anyone."

Shizuo's stomach flipped. His cheeks burned and red flashed across his vision. Gripping the back of the chair in his hands, he brought the boiling anger he felt out on it, squeezing the rungs of the backing in his fists, the wood cracking as it yielded to his strength.

As much as he hated to admit it, Tom had a point. But it was a risk he was willing to take.

"I was getting nowhere on my own." His voice cracked but he gritted his teeth. He refused to get emotional now. "I had no other choice. I bought the documents, it's paid in full. What's done is done."

Raising his hands in surrender, Tom moved to stand beside his friend once again. Grasping the chair in his own hands, he tugged gently. Shizuo released his grip without a fight.

"I hope you know what you're doing." He sighed and placed his hand on Shizuo's shoulder again. This time, the other man didn't move.

"This could come back to really bite you in the ass."

Tell me something I don't know. Taking a deep breath, he took a moment to fully compose himself.

"Yeah yeah." He adjusted his tie before stepping forward and out from under Tom's hand. "I'll be fine. I can handle it."

Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning to leave.

"If you say so." His tone softened as he glanced back over his shoulder. "Just be careful on your way home."

_____

Bolting the door to his apartment behind him, he dumped all of the folders onto the table beside the doorframe, tossing his key and glasses on top of the stack before kicking off his shoes.

It was so quiet in the apartment. But lack of noise did not bring him peace.

Staring up at the ceiling, he let out a long sigh as he unbottoned his black vest, letting it slide off his shoulders and on to the floor.

I really should look over everything again. Glancing back at the stack of folders, a groan escaped him. There was so much information, very little of it new to him. And the thought of making notes in the margins made his already throbbing head burn.

Why? He felt fingers lace between the ones on his own right hand as it hung at his side.

Chouko.

"Why can't you just tell me what happened?" Dropping to the floor, he pulled her with him, his body curling around hers in an effort to close out the world.

What a stupid question.

_____

We're in over our heads.
We're holding our breath.
Will we ever get to the other side,
Before there's nothing left?