Pandion (Genera #1)

Chapter 4

A half an hour after Kagesawa had left, Harumine turned his attention from the living room and hall to the disaster zone that was Kagesawa’s bathroom. He swept the layers of dust that had been bothering him since the first time he’d set foot in the apartment. The bathtub was in dire need of a good scrub, so he sprayed it and got stuck in.

Shortly after, he realised something about him felt vaguely amiss. At first, he wondered if he’d messed up the correct concentration of the cleaning solution and the vapour was making him light-headed. Then he realised the culprit was, of course, the link.

He sighed and ran the tub’s automated rinse cycle a couple of times. It wasn’t as clean as he would have liked, but frankly, he couldn’t be arsed to care.

Being linked to an idiot with a pint was screwing up his concentration, so he put away the cleaning supplies and sat down on the sofa in the living room. He probably should have grabbed a bite to eat, but he didn’t really feel like it. In fact, he didn’t feel like doing much of anything. How unusual.

Come to think of it, Harumine realised he had absolutely no experience of what it was like to be drunk. He’d never had the time or interest in drinking. He could only guess how this compared to experiencing it first-hand but had to admit observing and experiencing it through the link was intriguing.

Purely from a scientific point of view, of course.

The closest thing he could compare it to was the wooziness caused by his migraine medication. Was it dangerous? Should he be worried? He couldn’t recall this scenario ever being discussed at school, and if it was unprofessional or problematic, surely they would have mentioned it. Since he wasn’t even drinking anything himself, how much harm could it be? At least, so long as Kagesawa didn’t drink enough for another hangover...

Trusting this reasoning, it didn’t even occur to Harumine to dampen the link. Instead, he lay back on the sofa and watched the ceiling to pass the time.

After a while, he found himself feeling mellow and carefree enough to allow himself to relax for the first time since establishing this cursed link. He congratulated himself for drawing the long straw, not having to go down to a noisy, crowded pub to enjoy these benefits. They weren’t much of a perk, but he figured he’d dwelled in his misery for long enough now that it was time to give a more positive outlook a good old college try. Maybe he’d make this work. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Perhaps he could even enjoy it from time to time?

Kagesawa had been chatting with two of his neighbours—his closest friends Takazaki and Nishimura—and wouldn’t have minded staying at the pub for a while longer, but he couldn’t afford to test how far this new leash would stretch.

The link was crisper and more stable than any as of late. With so many botched attempts under his belt, it was a miracle there was a link there at all. The score they’d reached was not bad, all things considered, and Harumine was still tolerating him even if there was the occasional snappy projected comment. Things were going better than expected.

The beer helped with the nerves, but since Harumine had reacted poorly to the hangover before… Well, it was best to err on the side of caution.

Three pints were enough to allow Kagesawa a mild buzz and some light-hearted conversation with his friends, and considering the direction his vices had been heading lately, perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to rein this in and call it a night?

“Not sure when I’ll have time again. I’ll probably need to focus on work for a while,” Kagesawa told his neighbours. They seemed understanding, though perhaps a tad unhappy about it. He’d had trouble following the conversation again, so they were probably right to be annoyed.

“Keep in touch, though. It’s his birthday in April.” Takazaki referred to Nishimura who was turning fifty. “At least reserve some time for planning that, all right?”

“Yes, of course! Just let me know when, and I’ll see what I can do.” Kagesawa stood up, paid for his friends’ next pints and took his leave.

“Don’t forget, all right?” Takazaki yelled after him. He needed to remember to make a note of that as soon as he got home.

Kagesawa stood at the door of his apartment and stared at the unexpected. For one, the place looked clean. When he’d left for the pub, it had already been cleaner than he’d seen it in years. Now, the rest of the clutter had disappeared from the hall, and a glance into the bathroom revealed that it had been cleaned up as well. What most surprised him, though, was what he saw in the living room.

“Harumine-san?” Kagesawa made a tentative inquiry. “What’s wrong?”

It looked like Harumine had collapsed and lay sprawled on the otherwise empty living room floor. Before Kagesawa could truly become alarmed, the young man raised his head, turned to look and, with considerable lag, let out a peculiar amused snort.

Kagesawa closed the door behind him slowly, carefully, not daring to turn his eyes away from the living room. Something was very, very awry, but he was yet to determine how. He had a few fairly good leads, though.

Harumine was flustered. He turned over to his stomach, and there was a telltale sway to how he moved. Where his eyes were normally alert and a little on the sharp side, they were now unfocused and sleepy.

“Are you drunk?” Kagesawa asked and checked the surroundings for any indication of what the man might have consumed.

“No,” Harumine said very unconvincingly. He scrambled up to sit but fell on his face on the rug. There were no signs of bottles or empty beer cans, but surely… surely this was not the result of… three, just three regular-sized pints? Not through a link. Certainly not from him. He sat down cross-legged next to Harumine and helped him up to sit.

“This is not because of me, is it? I only had—”

“I hhheard you the fhirsht time! Sheeessshhh…” Harumine leaned on Kagesawa to avoid falling over again.

“Holy shit. How did you—?” Kagesawa felt chills. He hadn’t tried projecting anything in years. He hadn’t realised he’d done so now, but Harumine was picking it up like it was no trouble at all.

“I’m ghood… vhery extrhemely ghood. Better than mosht, in fa—c.” He lost his balance, took a dive and chuckled into Kagesawa’s shirt.

“All right, well, you’re certainly sensitive. I think we should maybe get you to bed.”

“Nooo… I don’t want to shleep ye—c, I’m ‘aving fun !” It was already a challenge to parse Harumine’s drunken drawl, but him mumbling into Kagesawa’s shirt made it even more unintelligible. Worse even, having his hot breath seep through the shirt was distracting.

“You don’t have to sleep yet, but the bed is much more comfortable than the floor...”

The problem was that Harumine didn’t exactly have a bed yet. Kagesawa didn’t have the heart to make him sleep on the lumpy two-seater—not after subjecting him to this—so the least he could do was offer the only bed in the apartment: his own. Even if that left him with the uncomfortable prospect of having to squeeze his ridiculously tall frame into the figurative sardine tin.

“OK,” Harumine declared briskly and tried to get up by leaning over and pushing himself against Kagesawa. This tactic was an expected failure, but it only made the young man laugh at himself more.

“Should I drink some water, would that help you sober up? It’s strange. I don’t feel that drunk.”

Unsure what all was seeping through to Harumine, Kagesawa was nervous about letting his mind wander. He tried not to think about anything too compromising and turned his attention to the task at hand: lifting the young man up and off of himself before things got worse.

“Thish is stuphid. Why do I feel thisssh stupid?” Harumine was tearing up, but all Kagesawa was getting from him was bubbly amusement and a lack of both strength and control of his muscles.

As a byproduct of tuning in to check Harumine’s mood, Kagesawa realised he was now chuckling under his breath. The giggling drunkard seemed to be picking this up and it, in turn, amplified his amusement. A strange and highly contagious feedback loop—like that between a speaker and a microphone directed at it—seemed to be forming between them, but at least it seemed to be doing it slowly so it hadn’t yet reached a full-blown high-pitched squeal.

“Um, maybe we should dampen the link? Can you focus for a bit and do that for me?” Kagesawa wasn’t at all confident that he could do it on his own since he was barely able to stop himself from laughing.

“Prffhhh, I’d have dun ith alre— arl— ready iff I couldh—” For a short while, the feedback from the link died down, but it was back in a matter of seconds.

“I can’th concentert— ate…” Harumine clung to Kagesawa so heavily it was practically a hug, but at least he was upright and not amidst a laughing fit. Kagesawa took the opportunity to move him towards the bedroom.

“Ahh, shittt…” Kagesawa swore. The trickle of amusement from the link turned into a steady flow of pleasurable comfort. If the source had been anything other than his newly linked, inebriated coworker, he wouldn’t have minded it at all, but this was supposed to be a professional relationship, and he wasn’t keen on ruining it right off the bat.

“Whhaaaatttt, yowr ack—chewly worried about thhat? And here I thought you din’t care much about profesh— sho… nalishm.” Harumine snorted out another poorly stifled giggle. Kagesawa pushed him into the bed before he could fall over again.

“You—!” Annoyed by the push, Harumine dragged Kagesawa along with him. “Don’t ya sshove me!”

“I’m trying to keep you from hurting yourself.”

“Oooooooooh, rrriiighhhhttt! Haha, I thought—! Pffft, hah. Well, thawas fun, lemme do that again!” Harumine tried to get up, but Kagesawa pressed him gently back down.

“Hmmmmmm, it’sh ah, supp—risingly floofded bed. Fluffered. Mmmmmmm.” Harumine scooped Kagesawa into a tight embrace, and Kagesawa was flooded by the distinct sensation of softness. It must have been absolute aeons since he’d felt anything this clear, not to mention pleasant, through a link. Not since—

In an instant, the memory created a nastier version of the feedback loop and sharp pain cut through the softness, spreading like thin ink on rice paper. Harumine stopped to stare at him in a manner that seemed almost coherent.

“No, no, no, don’t, don’t, don’t!” The strange chant washed away the momentary sadness. This was definitely different from anything before. Kagesawa had never had anyone so forcibly and successfully override his mental state through a link.

Harumine pulled him closer and whispered right in his ear, “That’s better.”

Soft. Warm. Wet. Wait, what? Whose thought was this? Why?

“Aa—?!” Kagesawa backed away. The feeling of a tongue at his earlobe was real. “What are you—?!” He could tell his confusion had reached Harumine, but it was momentarily dampened and replaced with heated arousal. Wait, is this me? How is it so clear that I can’t even tell which of us it is?

“That’s definitely you, uh,” Harumine responded.

“Shit, really? Sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

“Go ahead.” Harumine pushed himself up, and before Kagesawa could make sense of it, there were lips against his own. The following flood through the link was overwhelming. Wasn’t this against proper conduct?

“Yes, but screw proper conduct.” Harumine laughed and kissed Kagesawa again.

The laugh was infectious despite Kagesawa trying to fight against it. What was worse, though, was that it was not the only thing amplified by the feedback loop: the more aroused either of them became, the easier it was to pick it up through the link. Picking it up was infinitely more arousing. Consumed by it, Kagesawa pushed Harumine back down and kissed him ravenously. Shit, if it could feel like this, he’d just fly into the sun and self-destruct. After everything he’d been through, it was a rare opportunity and much too good to miss. Although, in this state, he wasn’t sure if he could have stopped even had he wanted to.

Harumine opened his eyes to another view of the ceiling. Not the same room as before. Where? He turned to look to his side. Unhelpful. The other side? Oh.

Even the quickest, most rudimentary assessment was enough to convince him that no amount of panicking or countering said panic with steady breathing exercises would have made a difference, so Harumine skipped his instinctive response and simply took in the view.

Kagesawa was asleep next to him, although at the other edge of the bed, ready to fall off. His hair looked much longer now that it hung loose over his shoulder. At least he was still wearing a shirt. The same could not be said about Harumine.

Despite not being himself the previous evening, Harumine didn’t have the luxury of blacking out or the consequent memory loss. He tried to make sense of what had happened and could only assume it had had something to do with his inexperience with alcohol and there being something wrong with the link.

He had no behavioural schemas he could refer to or pre-existing training for how to cope with his senses feeding him incorrect data. He’d spent years actively training to optimise his senses, increasing the sensitivity and accuracy with which he interpreted that information. To have them be thrown askew like this was a fairly disconcerting eventuality he’d failed to anticipate. The very concept that his senses could be this unreliable was new to him. If he was to gain anything useful from this, it was to heed this as something he needed to work on.

The feedback loop, on the other hand, left him at a loss. There was no protocol for what to do in case of a feedback loop. Something like that shouldn’t have been possible. Thankfully, the consequences, while undesirable, hadn’t been outright disastrous. But how was he to stop it from happening again if he couldn’t work out what had caused it or even how to troubleshoot it?

Kagesawa fell off the bed. Harumine felt a stab of pain in his side and instinctively rubbed at it for relief. Responding with a mere murmur, Kagesawa sounded like he was going to resume his sleep where he lay. Harumine peeked over the side to confirm: indeed, the man lay there with his eyes closed, and the feedback from the link remained largely unchanged—he was still dreaming about something.

Harumine sighed. Could he save this somehow without it being completely unrealistic, demoralising or soul-crushing? There was no sense cultivating the link if he intended to have it severed, but wasting the months it took for the switch to be granted mucking about aimlessly sounded equally unappealing. Moreover, if this was what they paired him with now, would the next one be any better? A dreadful thought.

Maybe he should have strived for a more positive mindset, even if that wasn’t among his many strengths. What exactly did he have to work with here? He peeked over the side again.

The only other perks besides the passable looks and height were that Kagesawa seemed reasonably honest and kind. But if his dampening skills were anything to go by, as an empath, he was nothing more than a talentless hack.

Even so, Harumine found himself oddly eager to fix this. It was either due to his stubborn perfectionism or a by-product of the night before, which—to his horror—he had enjoyed. He was likely rendered unable to make rational decisions after being exposed to such an enjoyable physical experience. Something like that could easily become addictive if he wasn’t careful.

Harumine was admittedly not in the mood to retrieve a work assignment, but with their score under 80%, he knew he’d have to if he wanted to afford the rent and other necessities. He threw a pillow over the edge to wake Kagesawa.

It was a little sad that he was using his hard-earned specialist skills to determine how much force he could use to throw something at his link partner without hurting himself in the process if whatever was wrong with this link was still screwing up with his ability to dampen. He executed this to perfection, yet it still lacked the expected accuracy.

“Ow—! Who? What?” At least the hit had been sufficient to do its job.

“Work,” Harumine said.

“Give me a break, Satoru-kun…”

‘Satoru-kun’? Ah shit, yes, he’d permitted that yesterday. Considering their age difference, it didn’t sound unnatural, but Harumine couldn’t help but harbour some mixed feelings hearing the man refer to him by his given name.

“We’re going to be late.”

“Late? How? The doors are open all day.”

“There will be nothing but scraps left.”

Kagesawa seemed about to protest but changed his mind and got up. “Yeah, sure. I guess with your score there could be something other than construction work.” He buttoned his shirt and reached for his tattered trousers from the day before.

“Our score.” Harumine was less than pleased to have to do the same after his clothes had been spread around the floor at some point during the previous night’s tussle. He wished he’d at least had the presence of mind to pick them up and fold them over the back of a chair. “I suppose I need to move my stuff in,” he mumbled as he tried to smoothen the wrinkles on his shirt and tie. He’d been putting it off, hoping he would find somewhere else to stay.

“You’re not going to need the tie,” Kagesawa pointed out.

He was probably right. After years of back-breaking, mind-numbing effort, Harumine was now looking for a no-tie-required – type of a job. Ah, shit. How depressing.

It was not his score.