Chapter Text
“The election of 1983 was undoubtedly the most catastrophic defeat of the Opposition in modern Japanese history, with the Egotist party losing 60 seats, including formally secure ones, to Ego Jinpachi’s New Gen XI…”
The interviewer’s voice droned on in his polite yet flat tone, providing a bore of necessary exposition to the camera blinking robotically at Isagi’s right. The cartoonishly dreary voice the man employed to discuss that horrific election night was almost enough to make him laugh but, all too aware of how long the next take would be, he wisely kept his mouth shut.
In the interviewers defence, even if this monotonous info-dump was magically the most interesting topic in the world, Isagi still wouldn’t have been able to pay attention. His mind was working overtime on much more pressing matters. Namely, figuring out where the fuck Rin was.
There was no way the man had pulled a no-show; Isagi wouldn’t believe it. Rin was a lot of unflattering words, but he wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t want to attend, he never would have accepted the offer in the first place. After all, he was notable for his exceptional ability of following through on promises. Isagi would never have left him in charge of the country’s money otherwise.
So where was he? Ticking ceaselessly on the drab wall above the interviewer’s head, the clock almost taunted his desperation, hands racing in a mission to leave Rin behind. Late and Rin didn't even belong in the same sentence. He was never early, by any means, in his own words he didn’t want to ‘waste any more of my precious time than absolutely necessary’, but he had always managed to arrive to things eerily on the dot. Especially when it came to events involving Isagi. He could attest to the fact that Rin’s favourite hobby was showing up to a meeting twenty seconds before the older boy and proceeding to berate him for his time-management skills.
Twenty-one minutes late, the clock provoked him with a taunting tick. Isagi stifled the growing urge to groan. God, this was going to be so boring without Rin…
As if summoned by the mere thoughts of his own name, the door was flung open, and Itoshi Rin unapologetically waltzed into the meeting, door beating against the wall as if to announce his presence. If Isagi had to be honest, he couldn’t tell what happened in the immediate aftermath, just that his brain short-circuited and that, for several seconds that felt like minutes, aided by the clock’s angry ticks slowing to a demure murmur, Isagi had just stared at him, mouth half-agape like a fish out of water.
Nobody could have aged gentler than Itoshi Rin. Flowing down his scalp in shocks of ice, the white of his hair was entrancing, silky-smooth locks working to accentuate the beauty of his timeless features. His narrowed eyes were still as piercing as they were at twenty-six, rich hues of green and blue scanning the room as his wispy lower-lashes fluttered to keep up with the thorough scrutiny of their environment. Every emotion that had formerly contorted Rin’s features was now etched so delicately across his face that Isagi had to look away before his own burned a vibrant crimson. Mother nature was so unfair.
Even worse, just as Isagi had managed to regain his composure, Rin ruthlessly smashed it to pieces once more with a singular glance in his direction. His vivid and, slightly red-rimmed, eyes lazily landed on Isagi’s stock-still form before letting out a quiet hum, either not noticing the tension in the room or choosing to ignore it (likely the latter) and moving to claim the chair on Isagi’s left.
As he sat, Isagi was rewarded with a closer, more detailed view of his face and, he was right, Rin’s eyes were definitely red-rimmed. Eyelids slightly drooped too, as if it were an effort to keep them open a respectable amount.
So that’s why Rin was late. He hadn’t slept.
A lack of rest wasn’t a rare occurrence for Rin, not in the slightest, but it was a habit Isagi had spent a good two decades of his life trying to coax him out of. He knew all the signs.
Thinking of him stumbling around his home this morning with bleary eyes, actually making an effort to meet Isagi on time despite his clear exhaustion, served to soften Isagi’s eyes, his heart too, ‘till his own traitorous hand darted to the crown of Rin’s head, scratching his scalp in silent comfort.
Rin tilted his head towards him for a precious few seconds, as if unable to stop himself. His eyes closed with a quiet hum, chest deflating with contentment, right up until he realised exactly whose hand was on his head. Eyes snapping open, Isagi received a half-hearted glare before Rin quickly shifted to rest against the other side of his chair, heartlessly removing himself from Isagi’s grasp.
Fuck him for caring, or whatever.
He supposed the silent solidarity on the phone last week had been a one-off. A shame, but so typical of Rin that Isagi couldn’t bring himself to be genuinely hurt.
Following the trajectory of Rin’s eyes leaving him, Isagi was once again met by the eager face of the interviewer. At least someone was happy to be here. To be honest, Isagi had almost forgotten he existed, caught up as he was in Rin’s dramatic entrance, but now that the fun was over, he decided he might as well refocus on what the man facing him was prying into.
Lucky thing he had, because the two of them were finally the topic of discussion.
“It’s hard to imagine how the you two must have felt, young and up-coming politicians emerging victorious from the polls whilst the rest of your party faced devastation. More than a little daunting, surely.”
Sensing the the man’s question, Isagi cut him off: “That election was undoubtedly the biggest failure our party ever faced, at least since the 1930’s. There’s no other way to put it. Our values at the time didn’t match our policies at all, and everybody in Japan knew it, everyone aside from our leaders, of course.”
“It was infuriating.” Rin interjected, “Completely infuriating. Like all other politicians, we were desperate for change. Radical change. The country clearly needed it.”
Muttering the last part under his breath, Rin’s head turned as Isagi let out a short laugh next to him. Then, just as quickly, he averted his gaze and continued.
“And yet, it was like the wool was stitched firmly over our Shadow Cabinet’s eyes; they were blind to the general public’s demands. Not only did they not know what the people wanted, they didn’t even know what their own Party did. Nor did they care to figure out what we needed. How lukewarm.”
With an eye-roll, Rin relented, leaning back in his chair in a display of practiced nonchalance.
“Did your leaders expect to lose? I mean, I can’t imagine anyone saw any possibility of you winning that night.” the interviewer followed up.
Isagi sat with it for a moment. Nobody ever expects to lose; politicians are too prideful for that. But…
“I don’t think they expected to lose that badly. The leaders weren’t at the celebration that night,” Rin scoffed, “But! Either way, the mood at the gathering was pretty light right up until the results were revealed. They underestimated Ego’s Party, which just proved how out-of-touch they were with the electorate. I mean, really, how up-to-date can a party with only two MPs under the age of 40 be?”
Nodding in agreement, the interviewer continued his line of questioning.
“Obviously, the both of you radicalised the Egotists in the following years. When did you start feeling as though the Party had to change? You both speak now with a lot of distain towards the 1983 leadership, did you feel that at the time?”
Rin huffed out a laugh, as if to say ‘obviously’. For Isagi, the answer was more complicated.
“I was never… satisfied with them. I tried so hard to give them the benefit of the doubt at first, to listen to them because they were my superiors and knew so much more about politics than I did. Only five years into my political career, I really didn’t want to cause inter-party conflict. I just assumed they knew best.” he let out a humourless laugh, “That was until I met Rin, anyway.”
Pausing for a moment, Isagi caught the self-satisfied look on Rin’s face. Way to be humble.
“The day I met him, Rin became my foundation for politics. He was much more experienced, you see. He taught me, in his own way, to follow my own initiative. To trust my own ideas, without worrying what our bosses thought. The more our superiors disagreed, the better, in his mind.”
Turning to Rin, he said: “You know, for a politician, you were surprisingly anti-establishment.”
“I was just anti-dumbasses trying to lead our Party.” Rin swatted away the praise.
He really wasn’t going to give Isagi an inch, huh?
Luckily, before Isagi could double down, the reporter interrupted.
“So, meeting Rin changed your perspective on politics?”
A nod.
“I’m sure you know what I’m going to ask next. How did you two meet?”
Isagi laughed. Rin just sighed.
“Well, it was the night of the election…”
9th June 1983
At what point did someone loitering in front of an untouched table of alcohol start to look like a complete creep? Isagi was almost certain he’d passed the acceptable threshold five minutes ago, but, in his defence, there was nothing else to do at this ‘celebration’. Yes, the air quotes were necessary.
Following the TV’s confirmation that, not only had their Party been defeated, it’d suffered the worst defeat in their history, the room had lost every previous trace of joviality. A pin-drop could be heard amongst the painfully awkward coughs and mutters of his brand-new colleagues, older men unsure of what to do in the immediate aftermath.
One man, an elderly gentleman who’d lost his seat, had attempted a feeble joke to clear the air but, receiving nothing but the thrum of the air conditioning in response, quickly submitted himself to the silence of the mourning party.
Isagi couldn’t have been in a more awkward spot. He was only twenty-seven, one of the youngest representatives in the party, save another new MP who he hadn't caught the name of, and all he wanted to do was celebrate his own victory. He had been elected! The country wanted him! In the face of crushing defeat, Isagi almost resented the men who seemed to sit there and take it in silence, moping around uselessly, instead of making a plan for their own survival. It was pathetic.
Maybe he just didn’t understand the social conventions of politicians yet. After all, unlike his co-workers, he hadn’t lived a political life at all. Until recently, he had been an up-and-coming prosecutor — which, don’t get him wrong, was also a miserable profession, but even they didn’t brood this much.
Either way, a good majority of his party had stiffly shuffled out the doors half an hour ago down to one of two places: the car park, or the smoking area. Now, all that remained were several scattered groups of senior men, all of whom clearly knew each other well, having muffled conversations that Isagi wanted nothing less than to intrude upon, and Isagi himself, standing under a mockery of deflating scarlet balloons next to the vodka. Oh, and some random man in the hallway to Isagi’s left that he could barely make out the shadow of, punching in buttons on the aging landline with a violent vigour.
Well, at least someone was actually expressing some emotions. That’s more than Isagi could commend the rest of his impassive colleagues for.
As Isagi moved to fidget with the blood-red satin of the tablecloth in desperate search of something to do, a resounding strike assaulted his ears and reverberated through the thick tension in the room. The old men ceased their chattering at once, all on high alert and looking at each other with similarly puzzled expressions. Isagi, for his part, only flinched a little.
What the hell was that?
Before he had a chance to overthink, the nature of the crash became abundantly clear with a growl to his left.
It was the man at the phone. Clearly, his call hadn’t succeeded in soothing his anger, and so he had smashed the poor thing against the wall.
For a few seconds, Isagi stood rooted in his spot in shock, ears still recovering. Then, he laughed.
What a character! A scary character, sure, but a much more interesting one than anybody else here.
With a new and blooming sense of direction, Isagi wasted no time making his way to the hallway, to the epicentre of the disaster. Checking in on this man would give him something to do, that’s for sure.
As he rounded into the hallway, he…
Jesus Christ.
There were no words that could possibly serve this man, this boy’s, appearance justice. He towered over Isagi slightly, looking down on him with cold, narrowed, beautiful eyes, like he was merely a bug beneath his tailored shoes. Lowering his searching gaze to Isagi’s lanyard, his angelic lower-lashes swept against his cheeks in a graceful crescendo. As they lingered there, several silky strands of deep green hair freed themselves from his elegant slick-back and framed the corners of his face with a soft touch. Isagi was in a trance; he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except gawp dumbly at the gorgeous boy above him. The gorgeous boy who, in a matter of seconds, had re-arranged his delicate features into a scowl.
“You can’t use the phone, it’s broken.” the young boy said in a low tone, gesturing to the smoking device crumpled on the floor with a tilt of his head.
Huh?
“What? No, no, I didn’t want to use the phone.” Isagi scrambled, “I heard a bang, I came to see what was going on out here.”
“So you’re just nosy then?” the taller man rebutted, moving to lean against the wall with his arms crossed.
What was this guy’s issue?
“No!” he replied instantly, “Well, maybe a little... but can you blame me? It’s so dull out there.”
The boy only responded with a measured tilt of his head, prompting Isagi to continue the conversation.
“But really, I wanted to see if you were okay.” Isagi added, more a question than a statement, “I’m guessing the call didn’t end too well.”
“The call didn’t start. He didn’t answer me.”
The scowl that had briefly left the boy’s features now returned, glowering at the phone with a personal vendetta blazing in his eyes. Recognising this, Isagi chose to remain silent, at least until he was sure the boy wouldn’t fly off the handle at his prying.
Dropping his eyes in deliberation, he spotted the nameplate of the lanyard wrapped around the other’s neck. Itoshi Rin. He almost could’ve sworn he’d heard that last name before. No… he definitely had. He just couldn’t put his finger on where.
Hesitant on how to bring it up to the other boy, to Rin, he decided to play it safe, and introduce himself first. Side-stepping past the wreckage on the floor, Isagi closed the distance between them, offering his hand.
“Isagi Yoichi, I was appointed tonight for the Saitama constituency. You are?”
Rin looked at his hand for a long moment, as if contemplating the merit of entertaining him.
“I know who you are, I read your lanyard.” he finally decided to reply, in an insultingly flat tone.
Does he think I’m stupid?
“Well, I read your lanyard too! I was just trying to be polite.” Isagi shot back rather defensively.
Rin was either extremely socially inept or trying to piss him off because, for some godforsaken reason, it didn’t end there.
“If you read my lanyard, why would you need to ask my name?” he replied, as if he had won some stupid battle that he started.
“Arrghhh, because I’m trying to be polite. That’s what you do. When you meet somebody. Ask their name. Even if you already know it.”
Rin just shrugged as if to say ‘I guess’ before turning away.
He was so annoying.
But for some reason, Isagi couldn’t let him go just yet.
“I was also wondering where I recognised your name from.” he asked somewhat sheepishly, hoping it would cause Rin to turn around.
And turn Rin did. With the sourest look Isagi had ever had the displeasure of being addressed with.
Great.
“You’re thinking of my older brother.”
Brother
Oh.
Isagi could have slapped himself for not putting the pieces together. They looked exactly the same. Like, freakishly similar now that he realised. But there was no way…
“You’re Itoshi Sae’s brother?” Isagi blurted out before he could stop himself.
Itoshi Sae. Everybody even remotely involved in politics knew his name. It was hard not to; the youngest Chancellor in Japanese history was not a title earned lightly. At only 19 years old, he had been elected into Parliament to represent Kanagawa, and at 24, made Chancellor of Japan under the New Gen XI government. He was incredible. But, even more so, he was a problem.
“Unfortunately.” Rin bit back.
Wait a second. The great Itoshi Sae’s baby brother was an Egotist? His own brother was a member of the Opposition and Sae just… allowed it?
“How weir-” Isagi cut himself off quickly, “How does he feel about his brother being his Opposition?”
“I’d be able to tell you that if he just answered. The damn. Phone.” with each pause, Rin stamped on the sizzling landline harder, causing the poor thing to spurt its dying embers all over the carpet.
He was about to set the whole place on fire.
“That’s enough.” Isagi surged forward, wrapping his arms around Rin’s back and pulling him harshly into his own chest to prevent further damage to the expensive carpet Isagi really did not want to pay for.
The first thing he noticed was that Rin was more than slightly taller than him. The second was— yeah, no, his brain was stuck on the first point. He couldn’t form any other intelligible thought.
Before he even had a chance to get his brain back into order, Rin slapped at his hands, releasing himself before huffing and kicking the wall lightly with his feet. Isagi didn’t intervene this time. He seemed restless.
“So that’s who you were calling? Your brother?”
“What’s it to you?” came the short reply.
“Nothing much, just that your attempt to call him caused you to smash the company landline against the company wall onto the company carpet. That’s all.” Isagi replied sarcastically.
“He refuses to answer my calls. Ever since he switched parties, he wont give me the time of day, no matter what I do. For no reason, mind you. I thought becoming a politician at least would make him happy, but… guess not.” a rhythmic beating of the wall followed his words, “Whatever, I don’t care. He’s such a fucking-“
Rin cut himself off with a particular harsh kick of the brick, before grunting and finally resting his foot. It almost seemed as if he’d forgotten Isagi was still there, caught up as he was in his brother’s treatment.
What a loser. Big bad Chancellor couldn’t even answer one of his little brother’s calls. Especially a call to tell him he’d become an MP. More than a little pathetic, but what else could you expect from a New Gen?
Isagi hadn’t realised he said all that out loud until a shocked noise from Rin met his words.
Shit.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry-“
“Exactly!” Rin drowned out his apology, “That’s what I’ve been saying! It’s ridiculous… he’s such a tepid asshole.” he mumbled the last part of his sentence like a schoolboy insulting his parents behind a closed door.
He was clearly still bothered, but the validation from Isagi had lightened his mood somewhat, and the attacks on the wall ceased. Isagi’s shoulders relaxed.
“No plans of celebrating with him then?” Isagi asked, chuckling as Rin rolled his eyes in his direction.
“Fuck no. I hate celebrations anyway. Especially ones where my brother’s SpAd is hanging off him like a lovesick puppy crying about how ‘Sae-chan is so cool!’ and ‘Sae-chan is the greatest in the world’.” he mimed throwing up, “I’m perfectly fine here.”
Isagi considered that for a moment.
“Are you fine here? I mean, it’s a little…” he gestured around the dismal hallway, no party spirit to be found, “Dry.”
At Rin’s acknowledging tilt of the head, he continued.
“We could go somewhere else.” hearing Rin’s inhale, Isagi clarified, “Not to a party! I’m not in the mood for that either… but we could always explore Tokyo. My constituency isn’t far from here.”
The silence stretched on for so long that Isagi began to fidget with his hands, anticipating rejection. But Rin hadn’t made a sound.
Looking to his face, Isagi became trapped in the sudden scrutiny of his turquoise eyes.
“Why? We don’t know each other.”
Ouch.
Well, it wasn’t a rejection. And if Isagi was good at one thing, it was taking chances.
“We will.”
Before Rin had a chance to open his mouth and challenge his declaration, Isagi continued.
“Besides, it’ll be fun. I’ll show you around, like your own personal tour guide.”
Presumptuously, Isagi strode down the hall, approaching the coat rack and grabbing his jacket. He could feel Rin at his back, not quite committing to anything but considering.
“I don’t need a tour guide. I’ve been to Tokyo enough times.” he finally scoffed.
His actions didn’t match his words. If anything, he had only got closer to Isagi.
He almost had him.
“But have you been to Saitama?”
Isagi prayed to every God above that Rin had not stepped a single foot inside his hometown. He could play the long game, sure, but he was really tired and he really wanted to get out of here.
Luckily for him, it seemed as though God was listening that night. With a final defeated ‘hmph’, Rin slowly pulled his dark grey trench-coat off the rack, sliding it on as though he was being forced.
Hah! He could pretend to complain all he wanted, he was still willingly joining Isagi. It was a complete victory! The only victory anyone had that night, he thought smugly.
Isagi couldn’t have known it at the time, how much his offer would shape both of their lives. How much it would ruin Rin’s, if the man’s own words could be trusted. But, he swore something in him was born that evening, the second he left that building with Rin in arm. Maybe even the second he had stepped into that hallway. Something blossomed, delicate flowers and sharp thorns twisting together, until they became one and the same, inside both of their hearts.
He could feel that same something now, wilted, aged and ugly, thrashing inside of him, reviving violently, with a vengeance, forty-three years later.