To be Loved is to be warm[And Nothing is Warmer than Blood]: ch!2
Summary: Okazaki and Yanagi talk while Yanagi is trapped in the AV room. The answers Okazaki wants isn’t what she gets.
Notes: this is chapter two for my Yanazaki fic. Chapter one is here and you can read the fic on ao3 here and if you want, you can also read it below. And like last time, I plan this to be dark in the same vein as ch!3 was. It’s not here but in the later chapters it will. With that out of the way I hope you enjoy.
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Hayashi gives Okazaki a tray of food. Nothing too elaborate. A bowl of rice with sliced apples and microwaved teriyaki. Not exactly luxury, but it was better food than she had been given when she was in Dr. Kan’s office. Usually, she only got fed liquid foods or sometimes had it injected if she was too tired to lift her head and chew. Most of the time the food was completely bland, colorless, and worst of all tasteless.
To be fair the food wasn’t the worst part of her being in that lab. No, the worst thing was the constant poking and draining of needles and—
Okazaki stops in her steps. Her hands tighten on the trap, nails digging into the plastic. She’s fine, she’s perfectly fine. She’s Okazaki Hanano. Seventeen and a mask artist. At night, she is the terrifying, horrific villain of Nagoya, the phantom thief. She is no longer a prey, she is stronger now—a predator you might even say. There is no need to dwell on the past.
Now back to the present, Okazaki continues walking towards the AC room. She doesn’t bother to knock and uses her side to push the door open. The sight she sees when she enters is just about as she expected.
Watari is sitting on a chair brought in from the kitchen with Tamba leaning on the wall beside her. Through the glass window, Okazaki can see Yanagi, his hands zip-tied together in front of him. At the sound of the door opening, he lifts his head, eyes brightening for a moment before they quickly dim once he realizes it’s her.
Okazaki isn’t offended, though she is curious. Who could he be waiting for? Perhaps Hayashi? She was oddly defensive of him during the meeting. Not full on defending him but more lenient on him than she usually is. It’s strange, she thought, Hayashi dislikes the figure skater.
It’ll just have to be nothing thing to poke up, she thinks to herself, giddy curling up in a small part of her stomach.
The chair lets out a small screech as Watari stands, practically bouncing her way over to Okazaki. She flashes her best smile at Okazaki. The mask artisan can only imagine how boring it was to be sitting here with Tamba for a few hours. Dreadful, truly.
“Hey, Okazaki!” She greets her. “Please don’t tell me you had too much fun without me out there.”
“Hmm, not really. I just walked around.” Technically it wasn’t a lie. She did walk around…following Tsuno. Ever since Watari took a liking to her, Okazaki found herself with little alone time. The girl was infectious in that regard, one that Okazaki was glad to let spread. However, she truly did miss seeing her nemesis. Thankfully she never noticed the sound of her footsteps following just a few feet behind. And if she did hear them, Okazaki was fast enough to hide or create an excuse. And each time, her nemesis accepted the response with no further question.
How completely naive of her.
“How is our prisoner doing?” Okazaki asks as she sets the tray down on the chair that Watari was sitting in.
The corner of her mouth twists and her cheeks puff up as Watari places a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles. The sight resonates deep within Okazaki and for a moment, she only sees the face she makes. That is before she blinks and Watari begins talking, “He’s pretty well behaved. He just sits there. He shouldn’t give you much trouble. Good luck!”
“Call us if you need anything,” Tamba says at last as the two girls leave the room, shutting the door behind them.
Okazaki walks over to the door and turns the lock on. The soft click causes shuffling to be heard from in the sound booth but Okazaki doesn’t face Yanagi. Instead, she lets herself focus on the surroundings around the room she is in. Empty chip bags and a plastic bottle of soda lie on the floor, most likely from Tamba and Watari. She lets out a ‘tsk’ noise as she picks them up and gathers them into a small bin in the room. All the while she does so, she feels Yanagi’s eyes on her. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling—she knows what it is like to have sharp eyes on her—but it still causes the hair on her neck to rise.
When she is done cleaning, Okazaki decides to repay the act and slowly turns her head, watching him. She stays perfectly still, letting her mask do all the talking.
He startles, jerking up into a straight position. He waits for her to turn but she doesn’t. She keeps still. Her breathing slows as she continues to stare. The lighting in the sound room is dim and singular, encasing him in a sickly gold surrounded by darkness. It highlights his hair that is frazzled, most likely from the fight. It feels so dehumanizing from where she stands. Like he’s a zoo animal and she’s a keeper. A science experiment and an observer. He is only wearing one glove over his left hand, the other hand has light bruises forming over the knuckles. The rest of his appearance seems off. His usual clean look is ruined by how his tie is undone, his suit jacket ruffled, and the sight of blood against the color of his pure white shirt.
Yanagi leans back, though she isn’t sure where he would go. It’s only him and her. The only thing between them is the wall and glass barrier, and even that has an unlocked door to it.
A fleeting feeling of vindication and delight pulses in her veins. They’re alone. He’s the one in the chair. She isn’t. He’s in restraints. She isn’t. She is in control. He isn’t.
After a drawn-out moment of silence, he speaks, voice hoarse, “Are you going to give me the food?”
Hmm, what to do, what to do. She didn’t really come in here with a plan, just a vague outline of what she wanted to accomplish: figure him out. The way to get to that result? She was unsure. Most likely she’d have to spend her poking at him until something in him snapped and she’d get her answer. After a moment, Okazaki notices him still looking at her with a waiting look on his face. She turns and pokes at his food on the chair before shaking her head.
Yanagi tilts his head, “Wha—no? You can’t just deprive me of food like this?”
Okazaki hums. This is where the fun starts. “I’m not. I’m just not giving you food. Not yet. I wanna talk to you.”
“Is that why you volunteered to watch over me?” Yanagi asks, voice hesitant.
“Were you expecting someone else?” Okazaki replies, pressing a finger to her masked cheek. She walks forward towards the glass. His eyes widen and Yanagi begins sputtering. Oh, they’d hadn’t even begun and he was already losing his cool. “Hmm, I wonder who you could’ve preferred instead. Let’s see, you’re not close to a lot of people here. Maybe Watari and Tamba but no, they already took a shift.”
“I-I…this is not necessary!”
“Then maybe perhaps—Hayashi?” Okazaki knows she’s hit her target when his cheeks go red and his head tilts down. She can hear him mutter the words ‘not again’ under his breath and Okazaki bites back a grin. They do seem close. Hmm, how fun. “Such a shame. She isn’t really happy with you right now. In fact, I think it’s safe to say not a lot of people are happy with you right now.”
Yanagi flinches at her words. She hasn’t even said much and he’s already being affected by her words. “Poor Hiroaki, really. You left him in such poor shape. I’ll be surprised if he recovers from this. And if he does, well I’m sure his face won’t be the same.” Okazaki pokes her mask with her pointer finger as she watches Yanagi shake. That’s it. Keep going. Something is bound to snap and then she’ll get her answer. To snap at her or break down, whichever one works. “Why did you do it even?”
Yanagi stays still, his arms twitching as he pulls the zip ties around his wrists.
“Yanagggiii,” Okazaki drawls out the name as she sways back and forth. “It’s not rude to ignore a person, isn’t it? Well, aren’t you gonna answer me?”
“I—I wasn’t ignoring you!” His head jerks up as he meets her gaze. “I was just—“
“Then answer my question.”
Yanagi bites his lower lip. It takes him a moment, but Okazaki can see his face twitching. Finally, he says, his voice trembling, though not out of fear or sadness, just pure resignation, “You were there weren’t you? You heard what he said? He had Sasaki’s diary. He was reading her diary.”
Yanagi balks back as if burned. He stares at her with wide eyes and mouth agape, “Wha—what do you mean so?”
Okazaki leans back. “So what if he has her diary? It’s not like she can protest. She’s dead. Even I’d be curious.”
Yanagi nearly lurches forward, only stopping when he hears the chaos screech against the floor. He sits back down but Okazaki can see him shake with rage. That is what she’s been looking for. Yell at her. Get angry. Prove yourself to be cruel enough to be considered on her level. S-so what if she’s dead?! It still gives him no right to just—go through her stuff like that! It’s not right! Her stuff should be somewhere safe with—“
Okazaki tilts her head as Yanagi gapes at her. His mouth opens, probably to retort something in his defense, but Okazaki continues talking, “I suppose I can understand that, in a way. She did like you better than Hiroaki. Though, not by much. You two were pretty similar.”
Yanagi sputters, “Wha—what are you talking about? He and I are nothing alike!”
Defensiveness is a common default when someone’s faults are acknowledged. Defensiveness feeds into anger and anger can so easily be twisted into cruelty. Won’t take long by her calculations. “Maybe. But you did make her uncomfortable.” Okazaki watches his face. Hurt seeps its way onto his face at the notion. She keeps on pushing. “Anyone could see how much she disliked your flirting. It was a true wonder you never caught on. Or perhaps you just chose to ignore it. Either way, the result was the same. You weren’t very good to her. In fact, you were awful. Honestly, for a self-proclaimed prince, you’re quite bad at being one. I’m not sure why you even try.”
Yanagi’s bangs fall in front of his face and his head leans forward, blocking his expression from her view. Okazaki presses her face against the cold glass of the mirror. She can see how uncomfortable he must be in the temperature, his entire body trembling.
“Yanaggii, it’s still rude to ignore a person when they’re talking to you. Don’t you have anything to say to yourself?” His shoulders draw closer, body tense like a bow ready to snap. Almost too easy. She was close to the results. A villain he is then. He just needed to explode, just as he did with Hiroaki. Then, she could leave, satisfied with her results. Tapping against the glass at a rapid pace, she cooes, “Are you going to answer me?”
He mutters something but it is like a whisper in a harsh wind. Her teeth sink into the lower half of her gums. “What was that? Come now, speak up—“
“I know.” Yanagi snaps, but it isn’t an angry yell. Not like the tone he used with Hiroaki. His voice is still muffled and cracks halfway through the sentence. Instead of anger or malice being used, it’s something else. Something that Okazaki can’t put her finger on.
His head lifts and Okazaki freezes.
His chest is heaving with heavy breaths as he blinks repeatedly, trying his best to prevent tears from spilling. Yanagi is biting his lower lip so hard it cracks from the force of his teeth. He looks almost pathetic. The other part of him looks determined, lips not quivering but in a firm line. His arms go limp against his body, no longer pulling at his restraints. He's not trying but he hasn’t given up.
Yanagi speaks after a long moment, inhaling deeply. “I know. . I’m horrible. I try so hard to be good. I try to be different but I can’t. I can’t no matter how hard I try. I just—I never meant to hurt her. I wanted to help her. I did. I wanted to be good. But I just…I don’t know how I can do it right.”
His sentences are quiet with him biting down on his lips after every few words, trying his best not to cry out. Okazaki recognizes that technique, having done so many times when she was in the…lab. In fact the longer she looks, the more this situation feels too familiar. One of them is sitting in a chair, strapped down, while the other watches and observes from behind a wall. What’s even worse is his lack of a direct answer. This confession…it’s not what she was looking for. He’s supposed to double down on his actions. Defend himself. Blame Sasaki. Why is he not following the script?
Unless of course, she has the wrong assumption. Perhaps he isn’t destined for villainy like she is. Maybe he is on the side of good and is just shit at showing it.
“So you regret beating Hiroaki up? You regret locking Wada up in the library?” Okazaki asks as she moves back from the glass window.
Yanagi inhales deeply, regret clear on his face. “I—Wada didn’t deserve that. He—it was a mistake. I made a mistake—“
“You did,” Okazaki replies, not one to sugarcoat her words. “And Hiroaki?”
Yanagi bites the inside of his cheek. His breathing slows, and his eyes narrow. His mouth opens and closes multiple times. It’s not a no but it’s certainly not a yes.
Okazaki ‘tits’ her tongue. Well, that is odd. Just admit it. Admit that you don’t regret it. Admit that you hate him. Admit something! “Do you feel regret for what you did to him? You feel disgusted with yourself for beating him to the point he thought he was going to die? Was that a mistake?”
She waits for it. The confirming ‘yes’ would give her the closure she desired. One word and it would cleanse the itch inside her gut and then she could leave—
“I don’t know,” Yanagi admits.
Well, that’s just fucking fantastic.
The answer leaves Okazaki stunned and she stares at him. Okazaki knows lies, everything about her is made of them. Lies are what carry her through life, what let her slip through life without regret or fear. If she had to choose between her hands made to steal or her silver tongue, she wouldn’t know what she'd pick. They’re what keep her from taking accountability for their actions and her own. It’s safe to say she knows a lie when she sees one.
Yet, she can’t see any hint of a lie on Yanagi’s face. Nothing in his eyes betrays a hint of deceit nor does his body language indicate anything besides pure honesty and his own conflicted opinions.
Yanagi lifts to meet her eyes. “I-I wanted to hurt him. I want him to feel regret for his actions. I regret hurting him that badly but, if I could, I think I’d want to punch him again.” He inhales deeply, calming the storm that overwhelms his mind and heart. “But I also want to make it up to him. I want to apologize and make amends to him. I don’t want him to fear me—I don’t want them to fear me. I want to be good.”
What a disgusting sappy idea. Okazaki feels her teeth dig into the flesh of her cheeks and she forces her response to sound unassuming as she speaks, “But didn’t you just say you’re terrible at being good? Why would you try at something you know you’re terrible at? Don’t you know that’s a hypocritical statement?”
Yanagi shakes his head and Okazaki seethes at how her words don’t seem to have the intended effect that she wanted. Where is his anger? Where is his pride? How did she lose control of this conversation so quickly? Yanagi’s words drag her out of thought, “I still have to try! It’s the least I owe to them, all of them. I don’t want to be like…”
Yanagi doesn’t respond, much to Okazaki’s disappointment. She balls her hands into fists as she thinks about what the next move should be. His motives are noble, she supposes, but if a person’s actions are still detrimental to those they care about around them, then doesn’t that make them worse than someone who doesn’t hide their animosity and cruel behavior? Here he is, confronted with his own actions and yet, he doesn’t reject them, but he is still willing to do the same thing! It’s contradictory! Idiotic, she’d dare say.
Okazaki feels something twist in her gut the longer she stares. Part of her wants to pick him up by his shoulders and shake him. Shake him until he is as sick as she is at his idea of life. The plan was to figure him out so she could move on with her day and forget about this irrelevant side character and focus on what was really important: the rivalry between her and the embodiment of good and heroism. But this ice fairy was making it impossible for her, mocking her with contradictory phrases and hiding it until a thin veil of sincerity! She inhaled deeply, rage stewing in the stomach and in the air—
That’s not what’s in the air.
The motive. The adrenaline motive.
Okazaki felt something burn and plummet inside her chest.
She did not just fucking waste her time on this nobody because of a stupid gas?
“Miss Okazaki…?” Yanagi’s voice rang in her head and never in her life did she want someone to choke so bad as she did now.
She spins on her heels in a fluid motion, facing away from him. He calls out for her but it’s waste in her ears. She runs a hand through her hair, trying her best to calm herself. A part of her wants to hurt him scratch that, a big part of her wants to hurt him. For wasting her time, for playing her like a goddamn fiddle. Honestly, if she didn’t volunteer herself she would’ve thought this was a ploy made by her nemesis to distract her. Unfortunately, she isn’t lucky enough for that. In addition to that, hurting him was also out of the question. She was stronger than she appeared but in a fight against Hayashi? She’d go down quick. She has to think logically about this.
‘There still is some redemption in this.’ A small voice echoes in her head. 'Just because the gas may have been an influence, it still didn’t drive the rest of us to violence. It’s only him. It has to mean something! That could still mean something. All I have to do is wait this motive out and then I’ll poke at him some more. But that means I’ll have to get him alone and be willing to be as vulnerable as he is now. And we are not close enough for that. This is a fluke. I need to make him be more willing to talk to me.’
Okazaki turns her attention back to the plate of dinner she was instructed to bring. She grabs the tray and enters the sound booth. Yanagi freezes, shocked at how close she’s come. She places the tray on the floor but continues walking forward until she is right in front of Yanagi. His entire posture is rigid and his eyes are blown wide, unblinking, focused on her. The attention is not unpleasant but it’s not the way she wants it. It’s not filled with fear and disdain, though she has no doubts that she can turn it into one quickly with a few quick strikes. One day she hopes that she can get him—get all of them, to look at her like that. To fulfill her role as a villain, the embodiment of evil, the sole reason for her existence at this point. But this isn’t the time for it, not now. Until then, she’ll keep this facade of mock indifference and neutrality. For now, she has to play the role of a friend.
“I guess I can see why you’d want to hurt Hiroaki. He did deserve to get punched.” Okazaki admitted, tilting her head.
Yanagi’s face shifts, surprise and discomfort. “Perhaps but—I went overboard. Definitely overboard.”
Okazaki barely stifles a scoff. “Maybe. But maybe violence is a necessary factor.” Her hand reaches out and threads its way through his hair. Yanagi flinches but Okazaki keeps a firm enough grip to keep him still.
Quirk as a fox, her free hand shoots out and grabs his restrained wrists. Yanagi pulls harder, pushing his back deeper into his chair. She tightens her grip on his wrists and ignores his protests and digs her finger into the piece beside the rigides in the bar. She pulls the two pieces away from each other and presses on the small bar on the inside. With ease, she removes her hand from his hair and pulls the zip tie apart.
Yanagi gasps and Okazaki tosses the zip tie aside. She steps back and watches him rub his wrists, the skin red from how hard he was pulling at the restraints. He flexes his hands before his eyes lift to meet her’s. “Why did you do that? I thought you guys weren’t supposed to untie me.”
“We’re not. You looked uncomfortable.” Which is some of the truth. If she elevated that feeling he’d be more likely to trust her in the future. “Hayashi will be here in about…a few hours. Enjoy your food till then.”
“What, Mai? She’s gonna—wait where are you going?” Yanagi asks as Okazaki leaves the soundbooth and heads for the door.
“You said you want to prove that you aren’t dangerous. Prove it. I do hope you do so, I’d like to talk to you again. Under better circumstances, I hope.” Okazaki turns her head to look at him one last time, before opening the door to the AV room and leaving. Honestly, she did not have time to sit there and wait, no.
