Chapter Text
“Why did I agree to this again?”
It’s not the first time Kenshi has asked this question. Still, Johnny humors him and replies,
“Because you’re a good friend. Plus, Raiden and Kung Lao are busy.”
The newbies at the academy just had to arrive today. The monks gave Kenshi and Johnny the morning to clear out their belongings. Kenshi finished in about ten minutes; Johnny has been packing for two hours. “You’re all I got.”
“Why you brought this much stuff is beyond me.” Kenshi approaches his now striped bed, dozens of skincare products and a large suitcase on top of it. “Do you really need seven bottles of the same moisturizer?”
“Pores won’t close themselves man. Also, at least three of those are primer. Please tell me you know the difference.” Kenshi huffs but says nothing which is all the confirmation he needs. “Put them all into that bag please. Except this one.”
He singles out a smaller product and places it in Kenshi’s hands. The item is worth at least $200 but he opts to keep the cost to himself, knowing that Kenshi would never accept if he knew that. Besides, Kenshi has great skin! Sue him for wanting to preserve it.
“Take it. It’s unopened and you’ll thank me one day.”
Bemused, Kenshi takes the bottle and stuffs the rest of the products into the suitcase, zipping it shut. He then moves it into a corner next to five other similarly sized bags.
Johnny inspects the room one final time. He hasn’t seen it this bare in months. A bittersweet feeling encroaches him. While he can’t deny he’s looking forward to returning to Hollywood and revamping his career, the monastery was home if only for a little while.
Satisfied that he hasn’t missed anything, he nods. “Okay that should be the last of it.”
“Sure you don’t want to bring the kitchen sink too?”
“Oh he’s a comedian ex-gangster.” Kenshi smiles in response which instinctively makes Johnny smile too. “Car should be here any minute. You have everything?”
Kenshi lifts up his single small suitcase as confirmation before helping Johnny roll out everything else.
“So, your sister’s picking you up when you arrive?”
Kenshi nods, answering. “I meet with the rest of my clan after. Restoring the Taira won’t be easy but the fact that everyone has agreed to meet is a step forward.”
His voice turns quieter, almost wistful. “We haven’t all gathered as a family since I was a child.”
Johnny softens at his expression. He can’t recall a single family gathering of his that didn’t end in a screaming match or a full-scale brawl. In his experience, reunions aren’t all what they’re cracked up to be.
Still, Kenshi looks hopeful, he wouldn’t dare take that away from him. “Hey if anyone can fix things, it’s you.”
Kenshi smiles at that. “I hope you’re right.” He adjusts his blindfold, mindful of potential onlookers.
“What’s next for you? Will you have time to get settled before filming starts?”
Johnny grins. “Well, Mortal Kombat is officially in preproduction. That means financing, story boarding and trying not to fall asleep in meetings until I can get in on the action.”
In truth, he’s excited. Writing and directing seemed like a faraway dream. One that died a long time ago. The fact that he’s been given an opportunity now, it feels like a second chance. He won’t waste it.
He's also returning home to a new house, still in Los Angeles but away from Malibu’s sandy beaches and party lifestyle. No one likes downsizing but it fits into the new chapter of his life thing he’s going for.
“If anything, I’ll have too much free time until we start filming.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage. Maybe start with a title change.”
“Mortal Kombat is a badass name and you know it, Takahashi.” He responds playfully.
He checks his watch. Kenshi’s set to board in ten minutes which means Johnny should have been at his gate… five minutes ago.
Well, it’s not like his own plane can leave without him.
It's strange, Johnny thinks. Not two months ago, he'd have been glad to be rid of Kenshi and never look back. Now that the moment is approaching, he wants to stall it out for as long as he can.
“You sure you don't want to come back with me and stay for a bit?” He asks, impulsively. “You’d be the first one to see my new place.”
Kenshi gives him a confused look as if wondering why Johnny is only asking him now. He doesn’t have an answer for that but he adds more jokingly “I could use another assistant and definitely a new housekeeper.”
Kenshi relaxes, grinning now. “Not on your life.”
A memo sounds that Kenshi’s flight starts boarding in five minutes. Johnny’s pilot is going to kill him.
Kenshi pulls out a slip of paper from his coat pocket. “Here before I forget.”
Johnny takes it, curious. He glances at the numbers on the page.
“This some kind of code?”
Kenshi raises an eyebrow, barely visible above his blindfold. “If that’s what you think a phone number is.”
Surprise must show on Johnny’s face because Kenshi adds, “I doubt I’ll have much free time but if there’s an emergency, call me, okay?”
Something like warmth spreads in his body. A part of Johnny assumed that Kenshi would want nothing to do with him once they go their separate ways. He wouldn’t have taken it personally; this pattern is par for the course in his line of work. Johnny has done it to others too.
It’s an unspoken rule in Hollywood: once a job is finished, the connection fades with it, no matter how seemingly strong the bond was.
He should have known Kenshi isn’t like that, to place expiry dates on relationships. He’s glad to have been mistaken. Maybe this time a friendship of his will last.
Johnny smiles, wide. “Will do.”
Kenshi turns around, intending to get in line to board. Still, something else holds Johnny back.
“Hey.” Kenshi turns back towards him. Johnny reaches out to gently clasp their hands together. “Be careful out there.”
Kenshi catches on immediately and returns the handshake. “You too.” He smiles. “Try not to miss me too much.”
With a final nod, Kenshi leaves to finally board the plane. Johnny stands at the gate until Kenshi is completely out of sight.
With a sign, Johnny begins the walk back to his own gate, calculating how much he should tip the pilot to compensate for the wait. Kenshi would probably find that funny.
He feels a dull ache start to form, thinking of Kenshi’s grin.
Hmph. It doesn’t take long to realize that not missing Kenshi is going to be harder than he thought.