Who: Katou Yue and Qrow Branwen What: Katou makes Qrow breakfast, but it's definitely not a thank you for letting him crash in his guestroom for a week, no sir. When: Saturday, April 24th Where: Qrow's place Rating/Warnings: Low/references to drug use and selling
Katou was feeling better than he remembered feeling in a long, long time. He was still fairly certain that he wasn’t going to survive the year, somehow, but then, he’d known he was going to die young since he was twelve, so that really wasn’t any different. But he woke up on a comfortable bed, a real bed, wrapped in clean sheets feeling more refreshed than if he’d slept on the ancient, sagging, disgusting mattress that laid on the floor with threadbear, dirty sheets. He was able to eat more regularly pilfering from Qrow’s fridge than he could pilfering from old dumpsters and garbage cans. Even getting to take long, warm showers every day was a treat - the showers at the high school either spewed water that could melt his skin off or water that would give him hypothermia if he sat under them too long.
He’d made nice with his boss early in the week - paid her back and sucked up by washing her car for her, and then resupplied both his product and his own stash - and he knew he probably should have cleared out of Qrow’s house then, but it was hard to give up. Especially when he could spend his days getting high and watching movies - so many movies, he almost wished his squat could get internet so he could get in on some of these streaming services instead of just watching the same dozen DVDs over again - and his nights playing guitar, or watching TV. His face had lost some of that hollow gauntness that it had developed, and the bags under his eyes had faded.
And it was time to go. Qrow knew that Katou would have had to make nice with his boss by the end of the week, and after that, Katou wasn’t going to be able to keep pretending that he hadn’t. It was better for him to leave on his terms than have Qrow kick him out like they always did. He knew that Qrow would eventually too; his Xbox had disappeared after a couple of days and Katou was pretty sure he’d hidden it away somewhere. Not that Katou blamed him. Never trust a junkie was a good rule to live by.
Qrow was passed out on the couch when Katou woke up that Saturday, which wasn’t much of a surprise. He’d gotten home late and stumbling the night before, probably not even noticing the extra groceries Katou’d picked up after school, and Katou wouldn’t have been surprised if he stayed passed out for the next couple of hours. Which suited Katou just fine. He didn’t bother to keep it down when he went into the kitchen to make breakfast, even tossing on some Japanese punk rock that he sang along to as he cooked.
When he’d been eight years old - Sae had been thirteen - the two of them had gotten it into their heads to surprise their parents with some Japanese style souffle pancakes. It had taken nearly all day and countless attempts for them to figure out how to do it, and by the time they’d finished, the kitchen had looked like a war zone.
But his father had looked at them and had tasted them, and had praised Sae for her hard work. And when she’d said told him, annoyed, that “Yue made them too,” his father had frowned, but he’d still grunted out a reluctant “good job,” and he hadn’t yelled at him about the mess in the kitchen. It had been one of the supports for Katou’s heart, and even now it was a cherished memory, even now when he recognized how completely and utterly pathetic it was.
He’d made the pancakes often in the next four years, and while his father had never praised him again for them, he’d still eaten them, most of the time. Katou hadn’t made the pancakes in five years, but he’d made them so many times that he doubted he’d ever forget them.
There was two failed attempts that now sat in the trash and had been accompanied by liberal swearing and a couple of trips out to the porch for a cigarette to calm the nerves, but his third attempt was successful. He fried up some bacon and eggs, topped the pancakes with some fresh berries, poured them both a couple of screwdrivers - if Qrow had a problem with Katou drinking his vodka he could suck it - and brought it all out to the coffee table.
He put his own plate and drink on the opposite side of the coffee table, and then dropped Qrow’s plate noisily down. Then he kicked him - hard - in the shin, and stepped quickly back; he’d seen how Qrow had fought in his squat and didn’t feel like being on the other end of that.
“Oi, Teach, get your drunk ass up.”
The kick was enough to jar Qrow to consciousness. It wasn’t the first time someone had woken him up with a rough kick and he jerked awake with a yelp of pain and alarm. Instinctively his body tried to both retreat and fight back at the same time. Unfortunately for him, he was still slightly drunk from the night before, so the effort merely resulted in an uncoordinated fail that toppled him off the couch and onto the floor. His face hitting the carpet was enough to bring him to full consciousness with a guttural grunt.
He groaned as he pushed himself up. He rubbed the back of his neck and squinted blearily up at the blond youth standing at the other side of the table. “Yue?” He croaked as though he didn’t understand what the young man was doing in his living room. Then as he became more aware, his eyes narrowed. “Whadja kick me for?”
Katou would have answered, he wanted to answer, but he was laughing way too hard to get any actual words out. He needed to steady himself with one hand on the arm of the couch to stop himself from falling on his knees, his other hand clutching his stomach.
After several long moments, he managed to get himself under control enough to straighten and wipe a tear from his eye. “Holy fuck, that was the greatest thing I’ve seen in my life,” he wheezed, and had to take a couple deep breaths to stop himself from bursting into the giggles again.
From his spot on the floor, Qrow glared at the kid. He didn’t think it was that funny. He would have gotten up and gone to sleep off the rest of his buzz (and hopefully the ensuing hangover) in bed, but he didn’t quite trust his legs yet. Besides the left one was still smarting. “That doesn’ answer the question,” he said before his eyes finally lit on the coffee table. His annoyance was quickly replaced by confusion at the site of two plates of what looked like little pancakes. “What’s this?”
Katou's smile faded as Qrow noticed the food, and he walked to his spot on the opposite side of the coffee table and sat down, cross-legged.
"It's breakfast," Katou said. He picked up a strip of bacon - just cool enough, now, that it didn't burn his fingers - and used it to break the white of his fried egg to dip it into the yolk. "I spent all morning slaving over a hot stove so you'd better eat it before it gets cold." He popped the bacon into his mouth and turned his attention to his own plate so he didn't have to see how Qrow reacted.
Katou had made breakfast. Now Qrow was surprised and confused. “Oh,” was all he could think of to say at first. Then belatedly realizing that was probably not the best of responses to someone who took the time to make you a home cooked breakfast quickly added. “Thanks, Yue. That’s really nice of you.”
He shifted his position so that he was properly seated at the table and crossed his long legs under it. He watched Katou a moment, still trying to wrap his still slightly buzzed) brain around the fact that his student had cooked him breakfast. Then he turned his attention to the food. This was exactly what he needed to soak up the remaining alcohol in his system and maybe (hopefully) ward off the worst of the hangover that was threatening at the back and sides of his head.
He tried the pancakes first. They had looked good, but Qrow was pleasantly surprised to find that they tasted pretty good too, especially with the fruit. “This is really good,” he said then threw a grin Katou. “I can almost forgive you for kicking me in the shin.”
He reached for the orange juice. Coffee would have been better, Qrow wasn’t much for juice, but he didn’t mention anything to Katou about it. That is, until he actually took a sip of it. He eyed his student over the glass with a raised brow, though he didn’t exactly stop drinking it. Hair of the dog and all that.
Katou snorted derisively when Qrow said that it was really nice of him, but he stayed silent, still mostly focused on his own food, until Qrow had tried the food. He shot him a toothy grin when Qrow sipped his ‘orange juice,’ and Katou took a gulp of his own.
He reached for the syrup to pour onto his pancakes before digging into his own, taking no small amount of pleasure in how they jiggled under his knife and fork. “Yeah, well, don’t get too full of yourself,” Katou said. “I didn’t do it for you. I just figured since it was probably my last chance at using an actual stove for a while, I might as well make the use of it.” Qrow chuckled a dry “sure,” when Katou said he hadn’t made the breakfast for him.
He’d always known that eventually Katou would take off. He was surprised the kid hadn’t taken off the morning after Qrow had dragged him out of the squat, much less the fact that he’d stuck around the whole week. He didn’t like the idea of Katou returning to the squat, especially since the memories the poor kid was receiving were violent has hell. Qrow turned his attention back to his plate to hide his frown. There was very little he could actually do about it, though. Staying with him was a fine temporary arrangement, but Qrow knew in the long run he’d do Katou more harm than good. Still…“I take it that means you made nice with yer boss,” he said as he ate. “Good for you. Well, ya know where I live now” he went on as nonchalantly as he could. “So, if you ever do wanna make use of a stove, or grab a shower, or y’know, sleep in a bed that won’t give you tetanus…” he shrugged. “Doors open.”
Katou probably would have appreciated it more if Qrow had done a dance for joy instead. He frowned at his plate, rolling a blackberry under his fork for a couple moments, before he finally speared it and a piece of pancake onto his fork and stuffed them into his mouth. He gave Qrow a lopsided grin. “Ya probably don’t wanna make an open door offer to a junkie, you know,” he said. “I’ll just rob you blind some night.”
That was his philosophy after all. Leave anyone before they could leave you. Betray them before they could betray you. It had gotten him by this far.
Qrow had been raised on a similar philosophy. The Branwen Family’s general outlook on the rest of the world was something akin to the strong live and the weak die, which generally meant that everyone outside the organization itself were potential targets. And whoever wasn’t a target was a threat that needed to be dealt with. From an early age, Qrow had these lessons pounded into him relentlessly. They were lessons that Qrow had spent the last 20 years of his life trying to unlearn. It hadn’t been easy, but it hadn’t been impossible either. “Probably not,” he said. “But you’ve had plenty of opportunities to rob me over the past week and with the exception of somehow getting into my booze—” he motioned with this glass “—I still have all my stuff.”
“Oh yeah, this is definitely the first time this week I’ve gotten into your booze,” Katou said, a little too innocently to be believed.
He poked at his food for a little longer, not really sure what to say. He couldn’t take Qrow up on his offer, he knew that much. He wasn’t going to let himself get used to anything that could be snatched away from him so easily.
“Anyway, I think I’m good,” he said after a moment. “It’ll be nice having my own place again. And goddamn, do I miss smoking indoors.”
Qrow understood. He hadn’t exactly been super trusting when he’d been a teenager, either. The whole “get them before they get you” mentality had caused him to be a little shit to everyone around him for the first year he and Raven were in foster care. And it had worked in pushing most people away. Except for Summer and Tai. They (Summer in particular) were persistent in getting the twins to relax and open up. Qrow wished Summer were there now. She’d know what to do. Summer was good at this type of thing. Qrow wasn’t.
But Summer wasn’t there. No one had seen Summer in more than fifteen years.
“If that’s what you want,” Qrow said. He reached for his glass again. “But the offer stands.”
Katou’s shoulders tensed a little. His life had never really been about what he wanted, more just what he got. What he needed. What he deserved. He hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted in so long that he’d stopped wanting things altogether.
“Yeah, it’s what I want,” he muttered after a moment, spearing another berry on his fork.
Qrow raised a brow at him as he took a healthy drink of his vodka orange juice. That didn’t sound entirely convincing to him, but he didn’t know if he should push the issue or not. His attempts over the past week to get Katou to talk about those damn memories had gone over like a goddamn lead balloon. The poor kid was drowning and he’d ended up with Qrow as a lifeguard. Of all the damn luck…
Still he had to try. Summer and Tai hadn’t given up on him no matter how obstinate he had been or how much shit he’d given them.
“I know yer gonna do what yer gonna do,” he said. “I did the same thing when I was a little younger than you. You don’t trust me and frankly, you don’t have a reason to. So, how ‘bout a compromise, huh? I’ll give you my number. Whatever you choose to do with it is up to you. You can hang to it, or throw it away. If you decide you wanna use it an’ call me, I’ll answer. It doesn’t matter what for: whether it’s because you got some dicks rollin’ up in your crib, or if you just wanna hear me talk about history, or if you wanna shower and an actual bed fer a few nights. Deal?”
“Dude, I’m never going to want to hear you talk about history,” Katou said flatly, but his shoulders had relaxed a little. He shifted his weight so he could pull his cellphone - an old Nokia flip phone that was probably nearly as old as Katou was, with the battery casing replaced by a strip of duct tape - out from his pocket. He was aware that most people couldn’t use T9 anymore, even if they once used to, and so he typed Qrow’s name - Teach - in for him and tossed him the phone to insert his number.
Well, it wasn’t a flat refusal. Qrow would take it. He caught the phone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even seen a T9, much less used one, and was amazed the thing still worked, even if it was barely being held together. “I have a name, you know,” he quipped when he saw the contact name Katou had chosen for him. But he was smirking slightly, Katou could have used a nickname that was a lot worse than “Teach”. He put in his number and tossed the phone back. “There,” he said. It wasn’t the best of lifelines for the kid, but it was something and that was better than nothing.