"Care to explain this mess, J―?" Kame asks, glaring daggers at the man seated majestically on the couch, the only piece of furniture spared from utter chaos. A few choice floorboards are upturned, cabinet drawers pulled completely from its place, and various knickknacks strewn all over. Kame lets his eyes survey the mess his (unwanted) guest had made; he’s careful not to leave his back vulnerable, though, never completely turning away. Long-ingrained survival skills overrule any trace of familiarity he may have shared with the other man.
The figure on the couch smiles, a hand reaching up to tilt his fedora in greeting. He doesn’t miss the pause at the end of the question directed at him, his name nearly slipping from Kame’s lips. "I didn't know you missed me that much, Kazu," he chuckles. "Returning here after sending off your little brother, don't you think that's a stupid move?"
"You didn't answer my question," Kame snaps, his glare turning extra venomous. It's the closest to losing the calm and collected demeanor Kame likes to present these days, his anger cold and lingering compared to the past, when before he'd be quick to anger and it's like an explosion.
"I, okay―" the man concedes, hands raised as though in surrender; but the gesture loses meaning with how the confidence in his posture doesn't change in the least. "I wanted to surprise you. Didn't want to ruin that by letting you find a dead me. Or by having you stick a hidden knife down my chest in greeting."
Kame's glare simmers somewhat into a slight glower, expression still guarded. Every nook and cranny Jin looked into had been cleared beforehand; he gave them all to Yuto, making sure the child was armed to the teeth when he'd sent him to find Yamashita.
He rises from his seat, and Kame sees the first punch coming. Kame dodges it easily, and he responds with a knee to the other man's stomach. It's the wrong move, Kame belatedly realizes, when the other man takes hold of his leg. A syringe slips from the other man's sleeve, its needle thin but sharp enough to penetrate the material of his clothing. It barely stung, but the effect is instantaneous and Kame slumps forward. "Jin," the name comes out on his last exhale.
Jin catches his fall, carrying Kame with ease, and Jin notices just how scrawny the other man is. He doesn't give voice to his opinion of this, not that Kame would be able to protest anything (let alone hear him). Jin lays him down on the couch, pressing a kiss to his lips while there's still some warmth left in them.
On his way out, Jin chances upon a calendar and he stops, realizing the day's significance. "Happy anniversary, love."