The bar opened promptly at 4 PM every night.
During happy hour, Hokuto always quietly mixed the drinks in the background, while his much chippier co-workers served the drinks, making good tips with the regulars. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he was a great listener–or eaves-dropper in this case.
Matsumura Hokuto knew it was a cliche for bartenders to constantly polish the glasses, but it kept his hands busy enough to avoid small talk with the customers at the bar, who always seemed to fancy talking to him. If he knew better, Hokuto would’ve quit this job eons ago by buttering up one of the wealthy customers. But he was only there to blend into the background as effectively as he could, letting his dark locks fall over his eyes as he kept his head low and worked.
Hokuto worked odd shifts, sometimes even going months without coming in once. His other gig took precedent, but the demand ebbed and flowed. Part-timers were constantly turning over at this bar, so the owner didn’t mind Matsumura’s strange availability. Afterall, who didn’t live a second life outside of the bar scene?
The time after happy hour until 2:00 AM every night, the pretty man was left to fend for himself as the crowd thinned out. It was a late December evening, and the sun had just begun to retire earlier and earlier every evening. The temperature steadily dropped when night fell and hints of frost began to coat the streetlights. Chilly breezes always picked up what remained of the fallen leaves, the trees naked and barren of life.
It reminded Hokuto that the shop owner had asked him a few days back to put up the Christmas tree when he was free. A slow Tuesday night felt like the perfect occasion for that.
He rolled up his sleeves and dragged out the tree plus the bins of decoration from the back. Setting up the tree was a simple enough task, but decorating was a tedious one. Truth be told, Hokuto not-so-secretly enjoyed putting up the holiday decorations every year. He was a loner, but whether he was alone or not for the season, the colorful decor always made him feel like he wasn’t.
Climbing up and down the step stool, Hokuto carefully wrapped the lights around the tree multiple times. As he was adding the beaded garland, he noticed in the reflection of the store window a certain customer sitting in front of half a glass of whiskey staring, lost in his thoughts.
Hokuto didn’t realize he was staring back through the reflection until they made eye contact. But the stranger didn’t break eye contact. He nodded, holding up his glass to silently cheers to something with him. Hokuto wasn’t sure what to do, so he quickly looked away.
As he was hanging up ornaments, through the dark night outside, Hokuto found himself discreetly looking at the glass on the window, searching for the stranger behind him again and again. He wanted to get a better look.
When the man was looking down, the phone screen illuminated his face, and even from far away, Hokuto could see his distinctly good-looking face. His brow ridge and nose stood taller than most, and his hair a natural dark brown color, combed to the sides neatly, the sides cleanly shaved. On the contrary, his face wasn’t cleanly shaved, but the stubble hardly affected his curiously handsome face.
It took nearly tripping over a bin to avert his gaze elsewhere. The commotion caught the attention of the handsome stranger, who chuckled at Hokuto’s accident.
Who would’ve known his smile was even cuter.
*
*
*
The night grew late, and his whiskey turned into another old-fashioned, which he nursed until the bar was nearing closing time. While Hokuto was out back taking out the garbage, the handsome customer slipped his coat on and vanished by the time Hokuto came back, leaving nothing but a closed tab and generous tip for the bartender.
Hokuto wore disappointment on his face for a few minutes as he swept the floor, but soon realized even if he hadn’t left, it didn’t mean he had the courage to even ask for a name.
When the last of his drunken customers left, Hokuto left the apron folded neatly on the barstool before closing up the shop for the night. Hokuto found his mind wandering back to the handsome stranger from the bar. He wondered what cologne he used, it was an earthy musk and a very brief whiff of tobacco. Hokuto didn’t like smokers, but his voice was not a smoker’s. When he said ‘thank you’ it was exactly how he imagined: deep but soft and smooth. The frigid 2 a.m. night was sobering, even if he hadn’t had anything to drink, and he tried to let the cold sober him back up from crazy thoughts as he hurried onto the train home.
He saw plenty of handsome customers frequent this bar. It was an upscale bar in a nice neighborhood and while it was vain for him to say so himself, he was fairly certain he was only able to keep the job because of his own looks as well. Hokuto convinced himself that by his next shift he could find another handsome man in a fancier Italian silk suit to crush over for fun.
In the meantime he had received a packet of papers upon his arrival back home. He was surprised by its lack of weight in his hands, as he unraveled the manila envelope.
He hung his keys up and neatly placed his shoes along the wall before sitting down to take a look. It was a last minute job. His handler had rung him up the night before asking if he’d work overtime. He wasn’t due back until the new year, but no one else was free Christmas Eve and crime never sleeps. When a client takes out a hit, even if Santa was scheduled to come to town, he would have to get in line.
Hokuto emptied the envelope and only two crisp sheets of paper slid out. He peered into the envelope to see if he was missing a USB drive or the likes, but it was really only two sheets. He was puzzled, but being so new to this gig, Hokuto wasn’t sure if this was normal or not.
He pulled out his phone to call his handler, but he forgot that his handler had a normal family and he was on “family time” until the new year. Hokuto sighed, glancing at the sparse lines on the page for a second before tossing it aside.
It was a problem for tomorrow. Or next week.
Hokuto didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until the afternoon sun woke him up, and he rolled out of bed to run down to the store to buy coffee and one of the discounted breads that didn’t sell. Hokuto liked routine things, it kept him grounded in spite of the odd jobs he dabbled in, from bartending to paid killings. Means to an end to get by. What else was an ex-military man supposed to do?
Over coffee, Hokuto got familiar with his assignment he received the week before, reading and re-reading over the two pages of information until he spilled coffee on it. He grunted in annoyance as he tried to get the coffee stain out, making a mental note to hire a better handler at some point. This man was supposed to be dead by his hands by the end of the night and he couldn’t even get a good picture?
Hokuto had received the handler the organization assigned to him, but the best mercenaries hired private contractors. One day, he thought.
Nightfall was early that day. When Hokuto looked outside, the fog didn’t make for optimal conditions, but stubborn as he was, he went anyway. After dinner, he spent a copious amount of time polishing his weapon, doing a thorough inventory check before heading out to scout a good spot. He set his watch for two hours upon leaving.
Hokuto contemplated all of three different spots, but settled for the one with the best view, like he was shopping for apartments.
He figured he needed the open view as his target was described in great detail but lacked a good photo. He cut out the small square from the file and carried it with him, but it was really nothing but a pixelated blur.
He practiced the hit, focusing and refocusing through his viewer, truly envying his more proficient colleagues.
Ten minutes out, his hands were already frosting from the cold. He wasn’t a fan of wearing gloves, as they got in the way of how the trigger felt on his fingers.
Five minutes out, Hokuto popped an ice cube in his mouth, which sent a shiver down his spine and the hair on his arms stood straight up. For how open his vantage was, he was afraid his warm breath in the air would give his location away.
Minutes later, he was on his second ice cube and his breath was no longer visible in the frigid winter air. He laid his coat on the cement floor and crouched low on top of it, laser focusing on the target appearing any moment now.
Tall, possibly Caucasian man with dark hair and a beard. Two moles on his right cheek, and he always wore a gold pendant necklace with a strikingly different set of dog tags.
Hokuto repeated the descriptor in his head mentally, over and over, trying his best to ignore the sharp wind on his exposed skin.
He held his breath when his target showed up right on time. In-between his loud heartbeats, he inhaled, focused, and pulled the trigger in all of two seconds. But from the sound of the ricochet, he could tell. Hokuto knew he missed.
How?
He was trained to not panic in these situations, but in the moments following his first miss, his mind was empty. Before Hokuto could even try to search for his target through his viewfinder, a strong jerk on his arm dragged him up from the ground and spun his whole person around. He nearly lost his footing if not for the man propping him up like he was weightless.
Tall, possibly Caucasian man with dark hair and a beard. Two moles on his right cheek, and he always wore a gold pendant necklace with a strikingly different set of dog tags.
Hokuto repeated the descriptor in his head.
His target stared at Hokuto with a smug smile, and even without a single word, Hokuto could only obediently freeze in place. He was expecting pain, excruciating pain that would lead to his untimely demise, but instead everything was soft, he remembered thinking. And warm. A set of lips landed on his, very gently prying his mouth open and skillfully stealing his ice cube that he had been melting in his mouth. The kiss was cold like the December air, but warm at the same time, like whiskey on an empty stomach. Just as conflicting as Hokuto felt in the few moments that he swore lasted eons.
The man pulled back, immediately crushing the ice cube with his back teeth, a loud crunching that signified to Hokuto that he was pardoned from a horrible death.
“Now, who were you in such a hurry to kill?” His tone was flirtatious, coming out of a perfectly timed kiss.
Hokuto had failed to notice how bright the moon was that night. As the clouds briefly parted, the moonlight landed on the man’s face. He knew that face, he recognized the whiff of tobacco and musk, and with all of his features now accentuated under the moonlit complexion, Hokuto was positive he knew that man.
His name was Jesse Lewis.
Hokuto must have blacked out.
When he woke up, he was attached to an expensive looking armchair by a rope. He looked down at the knots, realizing that they looked oddly familiar. Hokuto realized against his dull headache that he had learned to tie the same kind of knots. He must have been taught how to get out of this type of knot, but he only wished he paid more attention to that part of his training.
He noticed he had been stripped down too, wearing nothing but a thin tank top and his trousers, the latter which he thanked his captor for.
He struggled for a few minutes before realizing it was futile. Hokuto was at best average even in his unit, especially given he was quite new at it. He for one was not the type to finesse a grand escape.
Before another thought came, he heard footsteps.
It was the man who escaped his assassination attempt.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Jesse Lewis was rather nonchalant about his prisoner. Not to Hokuto’s surprise, but he also wondered if he recognized him as the bartender he left a fat tip for just a week ago.
Maybe not in the ugly white beater and old trousers, he thought.
Hokuto tried to think of something snarky to say, but he was distracted trying to read Jesse. He recalled the night, and how the man practically teleported behind him. It was not physically possible.
Jesse walked up to Hokuto and crouched down to see him at eye level. Save for the kiss, this was the clearest they had seen each other, face to face.
Then Jesse smiled. The same one from when he watched Hokuto trip over Christmas decorations.
“So this is the kind of…boy scout they send after me now?” He sighed, and scratched his head like it was only a slight inconvenience that someone took out a hit on him.
“Just an ordinary Tuesday for you?” Hokuto finally uttered, his voice coming out scratchy from his dry throat.
“It’s quite insulting frankly.” Jesse chuckled, “You’re a much better bartender than sniper. I’m sorry if nobody’s ever told you that.”
Hokuto frowned, his face entirely too honest. His handsome customer was brutally honest, which hurt his feelings.
Jesse laughed again. And it was beginning to get on Hokuto’s nerves, the way everything felt like a joke to him. But seeing Hokuto get agitated was cute, at least to Jesse. He was having a blast.
“You must be wondering why I didn’t kill you.”
“Not particularly, to be honest.”
“What’s your name?”
“Matsumura.” He paused, “Hokuto.” He doesn’t know why he’s answering to Jesse, but he doesn’t think it would take much for Jesse to find that out on his own anyways.
“You have a very nice name, Hokuto.” Jesse continued. He thought it was fitting for his pretty face.
“How did you end up on this mission anyways?” Jesse went on, disregarding Hokuto’s now lack of interest in the conversation.
But his question got Hokuto thinking.
“My handler assigned it to me.” Hokuto said.
“Everyone else was busy.” He shrugged, “Christmas Eve.”
Jesse’s face looked like he knew something Hokuto didn’t and truthfully he was contemplating on how to tell the man who tried to kill him that he was practically impossible to kill. His handler must hate him or something.
“74.”
“What?”
“That’s how many they sent before you.”
Hokuto never gave two thoughts about his lack of friendly relations with his colleagues. He was the new guy, the one who didn’t fit in, but it never occurred to anyone to tell him that this mission he picked up was not what it seemed. Just his luck.
Jesse Lewis was good. But he could not have been just good . There was something else about him, a striking dominance like he overpowered anyone who breathed the same air as he did.
Hokuto suddenly remembered the blur of a picture he had of Jesse, and suddenly it all made sense.
“What are you?”
“Depends who you ask.”
“Why do they want you dead?”
It was a precarious situation. Matsumura Hokuto was at a proper disadvantage, tied to a chair that he had no chance of escaping on his own. He wasn’t even sure the man in front of him was even a man at all, yet all he was worried about were the questions he grew dangerously curious about.
Jesse Lewis was worried for him, how swiftly he had seemingly given up survival. A slight misreading on Jesse’s part. Hokuto did live day by day, willingly mediocre. And he was almost certain the end to his very ordinary life would also be ordinary, but his seemingly disinterest in survival was merely masked by his immense curiosity about Jesse.
The extraordinary man before him.
Jesse slowly smiled, again. Genuine, but impossible to read. Like punctuation; the way a period is deadly silent. It drew out the fear in Hokuto. Not a fear of dying. It was more primitive, and he couldn’t control it. Somehow everything Jesse did was perfectly human, yet his movements were super in ways that Hokuto could only hope to understand.
Later Hokuto would learn that Jesse was enhanced down to the molecular level.
“They think I’m a monster.” Jesse finally replied.
Some may classify him as a superhuman. But not everyone.
“I killed everyone in the institution that day. All 180 of them.” He calmly recounted, “Then I burned the place to a crisp.”
He continued, “So of course they’d want me dead.”
Matter of fact, like he had told this story countless times and it had always ended the same way.
Hokuto never asked questions about the people he was supposed to kill. But the one time he was making an exception, he found himself digging his own grave. He imagined Jesse would want him dead any minute now.
“So I guess I’m next.” Hokuto uttered without thinking.
He assumed he would turn into another mundane number. Unbeknownst to Hokuto, he accidentally found the one soft spot that still hurt Jesse. He never meant for this bloodshed on his two hands. And every time he was reminded of it by someone else, it still hurt him, to the point where he wouldn’t be able to control his emotions. He had been a paid killer his entire life prior to any super powers; it was stupid to get riled up over the insinuation that he killed people. But this was different. Jesse didn’t want Hokuto to see him as a monster too.
Hokuto watched as Jesse sharply inhaled, then exhaled. Then at an alarming speed, Hokuto had his breath stolen. The taller man’s large hand gripped Hokuto’s neck like it was a toothpick. He struggled, instinctively grasping to find air, his head pushed back turning a different hue and his eyeballs bulging out all while Jesse calmly watched. He had a hard time focusing his vision while being choked, but Hokuto saw Jesse’s face.
Jesse raised one single hand and the effort hardly looked like he was lifting a pinky despite holding onto another man’s entire dear life.
“Killing you is easy.” The words were cold as ice. Like he had been trying to say this was his true self. Not to Hokuto, but to himself.
When Jesse finally released Hokuto, he gasped so loudly, he felt his already dried throat tear, tasting the iron of his own blood. He raggedly coughed, trying to take in as much air as he lost.
Hokuto noticed Jesse’s demeanor change and even though he barely survived having his neck snapped and the terror was still fresh in his blood, he could’ve sworn he saw immense sadness in Jesse’s eyes.
“Hokuto, I’m not your enemy.”
Jesse quietly said before leaving Hokuto in the massive living room alone. Hokuto had no idea what he meant, but he could only think about trying harder to escape, irregardless of his personal curiosities about Jesse.
*
*
*
When Jesse returned to the room, the sun had long set and the room was shrouded in pitch darkness. It didn’t bother Jesse any; he could see even in the darkness that his prisoner was in the chair, still as ever. Quiet as ever. Hokuto didn’t know that Jesse spent the last few hours feeling quite guilty. It was hardly this man’s fault that Jesse became the way he was and did the things he did. Maybe his true nature was evil; he just spent all these years denying it.
Jesse’s footsteps parked right in front of Hokuto, and there was hardly enough moonlight for Hokuto to see Jesse’s face. But Hokuto felt it. This time he was different. He felt human. Easier to read. He let his guard down. He looked sad.
“I’m sorry.” Jesse apologized in a low voice. And that was all he managed to say.
He realized Hokuto was out to kill him, but he was just following orders as the others before him. A long time ago, Jesse naively decided if he killed every soldier sent to his doorsteps to kill him they would finally stop sending them one day. But he was wrong.
Jesse used to feel a grudge for what they did to him. For throwing him away like he was a failed disposable experiment. Jesse couldn’t decide nor decipher if he was reborn a monster after the experiment. Or if he was still the same Jesse he always was. But holding that grudge was like gripping the blade of a knife. He bled and bled, until he finally let go.
But the people who created him were relentless. They could never let him go. He looked at Hokuto, who sat before him clueless that he was selling his life to the same people.
Who was he to wish to save Hokuto? Yet Jesse so desperately wanted to.
Hokuto watched Jesse in silence, as he furnished a knife from his pocket. He involuntarily flinched, but Jesse only cut the rope that bound his limbs together. He set the knife down to undo the smaller intricate knots across Hokuto’s body. When he leaned over Hokuto, he was close enough that Hokuto could feel Jesse’s heartbeat. It was no different from his own, beating with blood and flesh.
But Hokuto was pretty sure he was still supposed to kill this man.
As Jesse was busy untying him, something possessed Hokuto to pick up the knife. Jesse should have been able to stop Hokuto.
But he didn’t. And the blade pierced straight through the spot where Hokuto had felt his heart beating moments ago.
Jesse faltered backwards after a brief pause, his hand touched the blade handle that stuck out of him and it was immediately drenched in crimson. A low grunt of pain escaped his lips and he looked at Hokuto, who had gotten out of seat by now. He should have bolted at the chance, but somehow his legs felt like lead after locking gazes with the man he pierced through the heart.
It was odd. Straight through the heart was what he always went for every time, but this was different. His hands trembled; like it was his first day on the job again. Hokuto felt sorry, torn between committing to his mission and wanting to truly get to know Jesse.
When he finally willed his legs to run, Hokuto uttered two small words while Jesse clutched his bleeding wound in pain.
“I’m sorry.”
Jesse watched as Hokuto vanished into the darkness, letting out a sigh that turned into a sharp pinch in his chest. He winced and pulled the blade out, before his wound healed around the knife.
“I deserve this.” He bitterly chuckled, reaffirming the man’s revenge.
Although he was planning to let him go, he did almost snap Hokuto’s neck. Jesse had never released any of the men sent to kill him, and now technically speaking, Hokuto escaped on his own after stabbing him through the heart. It was embarrassing.
Jesse healed abnormally fast, but it didn’t mean he would be without scar for a small while.
The strange emotions in his heart didn’t help ease the pain while he healed. Matsumura Hokuto brought out something in Jesse Lewis, a weird connection. It was desire.
Jesse knew this wasn’t the last of them. He propped himself up against the wall, as his organs quietly stitched themselves back together. A small trail of blood smeared in front of his feet, but he couldn’t be bothered. He thought about Hokuto. Jesse wondered why he was behaving this way about him. Was it because he fancied Hokuto since that night at that bar? Because he watched him all night trying to remember the last time he decorated a Christmas tree and hummed a small tune?
Was it because Jesse Lewis wanted to be human, just one more time?
When Hokuto woke up in his own bed on Christmas morning, he was prone to convince himself that everything was just a strange dream, but his aching body said otherwise. He shuffled to his kitchen to pour himself a glass of water and only when he tried to swallow, a sharp pain shot up his spine reminding himself of the way he was almost decapitated.
He set the glass of water down.
A series of thoughts invaded his brain at once. Hokuto looked for his phone, suddenly remembering the enormous fee he needed to pay for failing to complete a job. His head throbbed thinking about it. At least he only failed to oblige to the method of killing. Hokuto remembered the sensation of Jesse’s warm blood on his hands as the knife cleanly penetrated his flesh. Maybe the fee wouldn’t be as bad. Maybe he could work harder to come back from it.
Maybe…
Hokuto couldn’t help himself, thinking about Jesse Lewis. The name, the face haunted him. He would be fine if it was simply trauma. After all that was the normal response. He had a shrink that he could go see and get meds for it.
He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, blinking twice, second guessing himself.
Hokuto caught himself wishing Jesse wasn’t dead. A small part of him wanted to know the story behind those eyes. What did he mean?
He sighed. His throat hurt when he sighed. He should be mad. But he wasn’t even mad about the damage Jesse inflicted.
*
*
*
Christmas was always the hardest for Jesse.
He couldn’t fix the hole he felt in his heart, no matter the years since he was presumed dead by his family. Jesse couldn’t erase the memories of Christmas with his family. Back then no matter where he was stationed, he would always wrap up the mission to come home for the holidays. Jesse missed his sister, especially remembering how they grew up spending Christmas Eve up waiting for Santa.
Jesse laid in bed staring blankly at his sad beige ceiling, thinking about the way his precious baby sister cried at his “funeral”. He missed Charlotte, and he could never get that image of her heartbreaking sobs out of his mind.
The emptier his house was, the more he thought about the holiday that this used to be.
Jesse used to wonder why. He thought long and hard about why he deserved to lose everything, but in the end it never amounted to anything. He volunteered his own body of his own free will, all in the name of loyalty.
Jesse thought about Matsumura Hokuto when he saw the small pink scar on his chest in the bathroom mirror. The same people who gave him this life sent Hokuto to kill him. Jesse knew he would’ve done the same had he been in Hokuto’s shoes. He wondered if Hokuto had heard about him. The Jesse Lewis who held the record, whose kill rate even before superpowers was already alarming.
He was not the kind of man who regretted much, but something about this holiday filled his empty heart with nothing but longing for the past. The past that had long slipped through his fingers like sand.
Jesse did the same thing year after year. All he could do was to try best to replicate his mother’s Christmas recipes, to drink the same whiskey his father drank while he worked around the house, to play the same songs his sister loved, all to give himself some hope, some semblance of warmth in his otherwise empty life.
He couldn’t help but think about Hokuto again, this time the Hokuto from the bar. He smiled remembering the sight of Hokuto putting up the Christmas tree. He smiled remembering the songs he would play in the bar, and the way he polished the whiskey glass nicely before he poured the drinks in.
Jesse wondered if Hokuto would come over and put up a tree with him. It was okay if Hokuto wanted to stab him through the heart again. A bleeding heart he could handle. But loneliness had always been Jesse’s absolute worst fear.
*
*
*
When Hokuto went back to bed he hoped to sleep away the strange thoughts he had about Jesse. But instead he violently tossed in bed for an hour. Ultimately, Hokuto got up and called the only person he knew who could get him work on a holiday.
The broker had the information expressed to the nearest convenience store. Paranoid after his last experience, this time Hokuto made sure he got the whole package. Maybe if he did one normal job, it would reassure him back into his usual routine.
This time Hokuto had to make it out before nightfall, so he quickly shoved some food in his mouth while doing his usual inventory check. The remote location of this job made it unappealing to the others. A ski resort of all places. Hokuto was annoyed that he had to rent a car, but the extra accessorial payments of this job made it worth taking.
Hokuto even prayed a little for this job to go well.
Luckily, he arrived with plenty of time to spare. The mountain top was colder than he expected, the winds seeped through Hokuto’s coat. But everything was going well, until he picked up a small chunk of ice for his breath trick. He held the ice in the palm of his hand and all he could think about was that kiss, and how Jesse had spared his life back then.
Was it wrong for Hokuto to go for the kill when Jesse was prepared to show him mercy?
Hokuto was confused, but soon shoved the thought into the back of his mind to focus on the work at hand. He breathed in and out with his mouth, and nothing formed in the frozen air. Hokuto was ready and even though his target appeared a few minutes late, it didn’t interfere with his plans. A clean shot. The man fell to the ground, so silently no one on the slopes even noticed he had slid off course under a snow covered tree. Hokuto pulled back, immediately dislodged and got ready to evacuate. The ice in his mouth hadn’t even a chance to melt, so he chewed it with his back teeth. It tasted funny. But the crunch only reminded him of Jesse Lewis. It was imprinted in his memory, and the way it sounded was so hard to forget.
By the time Hokuto reached his vehicle, commotion ensued. He heard screaming. Hokuto got into his car, flicked on the headlights. Night was beginning to settle in. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he crossed paths with emergency services arriving.
Hokuto had almost forgotten that he heard on the radio earlier that they were due for snow at night, as he looked up at the sky. Large patches of white fluttered about, pouring onto the slopes making for a perfect white Christmas. It was dazzling, mesmerizingly dancing against the street lights.
A bad feeling brewed in his stomach. As the only car heading down the slope, he was left to his own devices to see. It was snowing much harder than he anticipated, and as his shit luck would have it, his tire busted and he had to pull over. Maybe it was fitting, the way his dashboard flashed like actual Christmas lights. Before he could rotate out his spare tire, he was interrupted by a low rumbling that grew louder and louder. He walked up the bend to check out the disturbance, but when Hokuto stood still he confirmed the ground was vibrating. It was an avalanche, and maybe it wasn’t immediate but Hokuto knew he had to take cover immediately. He ran as fast as his legs could take him, but still ran out of time to get back in the car. He could only crouch low and brace himself for impact.
As expected, Hokuto heard a deafening boom followed by the wet and sharp sensation of snow and ice on his skin. Violent winds that made it impossible for him to see for a moment. But something wasn’t right. When he finally looked up, Matsumura Hokuto looked like he saw a ghost. The man was pale like a ghost, but was in fact very much alive. It was the same face he couldn’t stop thinking about, and even though it had only been a day, Hokuto felt like the thoughts of Jesse Lewis had haunted him for much longer.
Jesse Lewis manifested from thin air again and he didn’t hesitate to shield Hokuto from the imminent danger, as the mountain’s partial collapse sent broken tree fragments and sharp ice sheets flying at them. Jesse was facing Hokuto, his arms wrapped around him and his hand instinctively shielding his head turning his face into his embrace. Jesse’s embrace was warm, the hair on his chin was scratchy pressed against Hokuto’s forehead. Moreover he felt Jesse’s beating heart again. It was beating all the same, the steady rhythm proving to Hokuto that Jesse had very much survived his murder attempt.
“I thought I killed you.” Hokuto was still in shock, and he couldn’t find anything appropriate to say in all the commotion. He was buried in Jesse; he couldn’t even see that Jesse smiled while replying.
“It’s cute you think a blade would kill me.”
“I punctured your heart. ”
“You feel it beating now, don’t you?”
Hokuto tried to struggle out of Jesse’s arms, scared by both Jesse’s sudden appearance and his refusal to die. He couldn’t seem to win with Jesse. Hokuto even tried to bite his hand, digging his teeth in as hard as he could.
“Hokuto, I’m not your enemy.” Jesse said, between his teeth holding back from Hokuto’s bite. He wasn’t immune to pain, but he seemed to forget to take into account how terrifying it was for Hokuto to see the man he thought he saw bleed out still alive and well.
Before Hokuto could further rebel against Jesse, they were interrupted by an onslaught of large debris flying towards them, pushing even Hokuto’s car that was already in disrepair towards the cliff. He felt as Jesse guarded him closer, holding onto him tighter before taking on the full force of the collapse with his body, all the sharp fragments tearing through at a frightening speed.
“Stay still.” Jesse’s breath was warm on his ear through the commotion. Hokuto wanted to move, but Jesse coaxed him to stay in place. Even through the noise Hokuto knew he heard the sound of broken bones, and he winced just imagining how much it must have hurted for Jesse. He was conflicted, confused by all of this, but Hokuto only knew what he saw. The one thing he knew for sure now was that Jesse just saved his life for no good reason.
Truthfully Jesse didn’t have a good answer for Hokuto either. He couldn’t explain why he was there. He couldn’t explain why his instinct was to protect Hokuto from danger. Jesse simply did, and as weird as it felt, it never felt wrong to them. Like they were meant to cross paths again.
“Does it hurt?” Hokuto asked quietly as the brunt of the disaster passed.
“Hm?” Jesse slowly released Hokuto now that it was safe.
“Does it hurt?” Hokuto repeated. And this time Jesse knew what he meant.
“A little.”
He was obviously holding back the pain he felt, Hokuto could tell that much. But Jesse was used to it. His body was only indestructible, not pain-proof. Jesse healed at super speed, but it also meant he felt immense pain condensed into minutes.
Jesse looked at Hokuto, who looked like he was about to cry for some reason. He wanted to laugh. Surely this was not what he imagined of a hardened military man. It only validated his decision to protect Hokuto.
“Well, I’m pretty sure my back is broken, so if killing me is still on your to-do list then…well, Merry Christmas. Go for it.” Jesse tried to lighten the mood with some dark humor, “You have roughly next ten minutes.” He smiled and it looked so innocent despite everything.
“You can’t possibly believe I actually want to kill you.” Hokuto sighed.
Matsumura Hokuto finally gave up making an enemy of the only person trapped on a snowy mountaintop with him. He sat down on the road covered in snow next to Jesse, next to the aftermath of a partial avalanche.
Jesse’s face lit up, “Truce?”
Hokuto nodded in defeat and he cracked a smile too for the first time. It all felt so beyond belief that this was the situation they were in. He turned to Jesse, who was covered in snow, dirt and dried blood from the lacerations that had already healed while they were talking.
“Don’t move.” Hokuto said, moving closer to Jesse. Carefully he raised his hand to dust him off before the snow melted wetting his clothes. Jesse was slowly regaining mobility, but he didn’t move an inch. Hokuto’s warm breath on his bare neck was enough to keep him still.
When Hokuto was content, he sat back and held his legs close to his chest, patiently waiting for Jesse to heal. Jesse sneakily stared at Hokuto, smitten by how cute he thought Hokuto was. But Hokuto didn’t realize because he had been staring straight up at the relentless snowfall.
Jesse stretched his neck, and realized he could move in full capacity again while Hokuto was lost in thought. He knew he was taking advantage, but he didn’t care. Hokuto looked too vulnerable to resist. Jesse inched closer to Hokuto at normal speed until he was right next to him.
“Hokuto.”
“Hm?”
When Hokuto turned his head, he was surprised by Jesse’s proximity and before he could utter another syllable, Jesse’s cold hand gingerly held Hokuto’s face and leaned for a kiss. He held down Hokuto’s wrists with his hand, half expecting some resistance, but Hokuto returned the kiss to the same soft lips from that night.
“What was that?” Hokuto asked, breathless from the kiss. Despite him returning the kiss, he wanted to know what Jesse was thinking.
“A promise you won’t try to kill me anymore.”
It would be a shame if Hokuto tried to stab him every time he thought he got closer. Jesse finally admitted to himself. He wanted Hokuto. He didn’t have a good reason. He didn’t need a good reason.
Hokuto gazed into Jesse’s eyes, and he noticed how clear they were for the first time since they met. He had forgotten entirely the desire to kill this man. He wasn’t capable, both physically nor emotionally of taking down this man. This man who came to save him out of the goodness of his heart. Hokuto’s lack of an answer was sufficient as he leaned in. His wrists were still restrained by Jesse, so he leaned in with his jaw, fully toppling onto him as his lips crashed into Jesse’s, trying his best to express how he’s liked Jesse since the first time they locked eyes at the bar. Jesse slowly released Hokuto’s wrists and instead he picked Hokuto up entirely and sat him down, straddling his lap.
Eventually, Jesse caught Hokuto shivering and it was both the adrenaline of what he was doing and the frozen road they were on top of. Jesse gently pulled away first, his lips lingering but looked at him with a reassuring gaze before opening up his coat and wrapped Hokuto into himself. Hokuto was hesitant at first, but eventually he leaned his head onto Jesse’s shoulder. Without a word, they stayed still like that for a long time. Hokuto felt Jesse’s chest exhale a long sigh, wisps of breath danced in the night air.
“Thank you for spending Christmas with me.” It had been so long since Jesse felt his heart filled with something other than longing on his favorite holiday.
“Thank you…for not dying the first time.” And Matsumura Hokuto was still hopelessly awkward, but he hoped Jesse didn’t mind.
He was Jesse Lewis’ Christmas miracle after all.