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boueibu-valentines · 6 years ago

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A Day at the Fair

Creator: @silvormoon Recipient: @kinatsuaddict17 Title: A Day at the Fair Characters/Pairings: Kinshiro/Atsushi Summary: Kinshiro regrets all the time he’s wasted spending time apart from Atsushi. When the school principal assigns him with overseeing a booth at the town fair, he sees an opportunity to recapture some of those lost childhood moments. Comment: This ended up really long so I am submitting this in two parts. This is part 1.

———-

Kinshiro took the first sip of his morning tea, gazed out at his garden, and thought, There really is no place like home.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed his stay overseas. There was definitely something to be said for visiting new places and broadening one’s horizons. It was just that in his heart, he knew that Binan would always be his true home, and now he was happy to be back again. He’d arrived home three days ago, and now his jet lag had mostly faded and his long-neglected work as Council President was more or less caught up, and he was really beginning to feel like he was back in his groove.

A pity I’ll be leaving again before too very much longer. His family expected him to go to college, so of course he would, but then he would come home and start working in the family business where he belonged.

His ruminations were interrupted by the sound of his cell phone blipping, announcing that he’d gotten a text message. He snatched it up.

Good morning, Kinchan! Are you walking to school with us today?

Kinshiro smiled. The message was sprinkled with smiley faces and other electronic flotsam. From anyone else, the informality would have annoyed him. Coming from Atsushi…

It really is good to be home.

He ended up meeting Atsushi on the corner where their two routes to school intersected. It still felt strange, walking to school with Atsushi and his friends. He strolled along, saying little, just enjoying listening to the sound of the others chattering and marveling at how things changed. There had been a time when seeing Atsushi at a distance would be enough to ruin his mood for hours afterwards. Now he walked beside him and thought that he had never been so happy to look at another human being.

“You look far away,” Atsushi remarked, as they reached the school gates. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking,” said Kinshiro, “that I wouldn’t mind going through another three years of high school if it meant we could go on walking to school together.”

Atsushi put an arm around his shoulders. “I know what you mean. But we’ll have lots of free time when we’re in college, and we’ll be able to see each other on holidays. It’s not like we have to say goodbye forever once we graduate.”

“I know,” said Kinshiro.

Still, he thought, as he reached his classroom and settled into his desk, as much as he was looking forward to the future, he still couldn’t help regretting that he’d wasted so much time in the past. All those years, he could have been spending every day with Atsushi. Now his childhood was nearly over, and he’d never get those carefree days back.

He was still musing on this bittersweet thought when a voice came over the school intercom.

“Will Kusatsu Kinshiro please report to the office? Kusatsu Kinshiro, you’re wanted in the principal’s office…”

Everyone turned to stare at Kinshiro, as people tended to do in these circumstances. Someone in the back of the room stage-whispered, “Did the president break a rule?” and a few others snickered. Kinshiro ignored them.

“Teacher, may I be excused?” he asked.

The teacher graciously waved him away. The professor’s expression suggested he felt it was less likely for Kinshiro to be in any sort of trouble than for the principal to want to consult with him on some weighty matter. Kinshiro couldn’t begin to guess what he was being summoned for, but had a vague thought that it might have something to do with his overseas trip, or possibly preparations for graduation. He left the classroom feeling calm but puzzled.

The principal greeted him cheerfully.

“Ahh, Kusatsu-kun. Please have a seat,” he said. He was a cheerful, rosy-cheeked, bright eyed little man. Kinshiro had always had mixed feelings about him. He was a likeable man, always affable and willing to listen. On the other hand, he tended to be a little more lax than Kinshiro felt was strictly right, and he could never figure out how to bring it up. Kinshiro was not a man to question authority figures, even when he privately felt they deserved it.

“Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?” he asked instead.

“Yes, indeed,” said the principal. “As I’m sure you know, Binan’s annual spring festival is coming up.”

Kinshiro nodded. He knew this very well, having attended it for several years until he’d reached the point where he considered himself too old for such silliness.

No, be honest with yourself. You started staying home and sulking because you knew Atsushi would be there with Yufuin.

Still, he couldn’t help but be aware of it. It was held every year in early spring, temporarily taking over the city park. Kinshiro had a shrewd notion that it wasn’t celebrating anything in particular, save for a need to entice more tourists into the city once a year, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. There were always lots of carnival games, food booths, and entertainers there, and in the last few years it had expanded to include a couple of bouncy castles and some organized games like three-legged races to entertain the kids.

“One of our school’s proud traditions,” the principal said, “is to sponsor a booth at the festival. This year, I am counting on you to oversee the details.”

“What would it entail?” Kinshiro asked.

“Just choosing four or five reliable students to set it up and run it, and to supervise the setup and purchasing of prizes,” the principal replied. “You’ll be given discretionary funds for the purchasing of the prizes, of course. The stall and its trappings should be in the shed on the northwest corner of the grounds. I’ll give you the key.”

Suiting action to words, he fished a key ring out of his desk and handed Kinshiro a small key. Kinshiro slipped it into his breast pocket.

“I’ll expect regular updates,” the principal let on. “Report back in a day or two and let me know who you’ve selected to run the booth, and speak to my secretary about the money.”

“Of course, sir,” said Kinshiro. His voice was placid as ever, but inside, he was starting to feel excited about the project. Not that he actually wanted to spend the day sitting at a booth listening to little children wailing because they hadn’t won a prize, but…

“Excellent,” said the principal. “I know I can count on you. Now, off you go. No starting work on the booth until after class!”

Kinshiro agreed that his studies came first and excused himself. He had a brief chat with the secretary, accepted a check and a stern warning to keep all the receipts for anything he bought with it, and set off toward his classroom. His mind, however, was no longer on his lessons.

For all its inconveniences, this was still a perfect opportunity. He could invite Atsushi to work on the booth. They could set it up together, man it together for a while, and then explore the festival. It would be a way to make up for some of that lost time. It might even make up for the disastrous way the school festival had turned out.

When the lunch bell rang, Kinshiro sought Atsushi out at once.

“A moment of your time?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Atsushi. “What is it?”

“I was wondering if I could ask a favor,” he replied. “It’s presumptuous, I know, but I need someone I can rely on, and, well… I know you’re reliable.”

Atsushi appeared touched. “I’ll help if I can. What do you need?”

“The principal wants me to run a booth at the spring festival,” said Kinshiro. “I need some helpers. Would you be willing to…?”

To his relief, Atsushi beamed.

“Of course! That sounds like fun,” said Atsushi. He grinned a charmingly sheepish grin. “To tell the truth, I get kind of embarrassed going to the spring fair like all the little kids, but it will be okay if I’m there for a reason. Will we have to work the whole day?”

Kinshiro shook his head. “No, I was thinking I’d ask a few other people, so we could take shifts. I’m sure Arima wouldn’t mind, but I haven’t decided who else to ask. Perhaps your friend Naruko? He seems very responsible.”

Atsushi laughed. “Not unless you were prepared to pay him. He never works for freeWhat about Yumoto?”

“Hakone Yumoto?” Kinshiro blinked. The words “responsible” and “Yumoto” didn’t go together in his mind.

“Don’t underestimate him,” said Atsushi. “He helps his brother run the bathhouse, don’t forget. He’s used to working a cash register and handling money, and he’s great with kids. I know he seems kind of flighty, but when he takes on a responsibility, he takes it seriously.”

“Hm. Well, you would know,” said Kinshiro dubiously. “I suppose he’d be all right with Arima there to keep an eye on him.”

Atsushi smiled. “Sounds like we’ve got a plan, then.”

We. Kinshiro liked the sound of that. He smiled.

“I’m looking forward to it already.”

*******

Atsushi had seen the storage shed many times, but somehow it had never occurred to him that he might want to look inside it. He was vaguely aware of the sorts of things people kept in sheds - lawnmowers, hedge clippers, water hoses, things of that nature - and none of them had ever seemed like they had anything to do with him. Perhaps, he reflected, if he’d had more of a spirit of adventure, he might have worked up some curiosity about what else might be in there. He watched as Kinshiro took out the little gray key and slipped it into the lock.

I wonder why he asked me, he mused, as the door creaked open. He knew he was a reliable worker, but so were lots of other people in school, some of whom would actually have a bit of star appeal at a public event. If it had been him, he might have been tempted to choose someone like the star of the soccer team, or the boy from the drama club who’d already been offered a role in an upcoming radio drama. Instead, he’d chosen a nobody from the Earth Defense Club, the school joke. He’d said it was because he knew he could rely on Atsushi. After years of believing the exact opposite, Kinshiro was putting his faith in Atsushi once again.

I’d better not let him down.

He followed Kinshiro into the shed. It was bigger than he’d first realized. On the outside, it had been screened by trees and shrubs, making it hard to see more than the front. Now he realized that while it wasn’t very wide, it extended a long way back. It was dim, but light filtered through vents near the ceiling. It smelled of dust and wood shavings and just a hint of mice. Kinshiro sneezed.

“There sure is a lot of junk in here,” said Atsushi, looking around. There were, as he’d suspected, several lawn mowers of various shapes and sizes, along with all the other odds and ends used to keep the grounds neat. There were also various sorts of sporting equipment - the rollers used to chalk a playing field, some disassembled soccer nets and movable basketball hoops, stacks of hurdles and vaulting boxes - and some of the decorations that had been dragged out for the school fair. Some of the other items were harder to place. Atsushi looked at a panel of what might have been scenery from a long-ago play, a rather ugly piece of statuary, and a heap of assorted woven baskets.

“I think they just tossed in anything that was too big to fit anywhere else,” said Kinshiro. He blew dust off of an unidentified gray box. “I think this is a cash box. It’s still got keys wired to it. That’s a start.”

“Do you have any idea what we’re looking for?” Atsushi asked. He tugged at a tarp and studied the object underneath. “A spotlight. Do you think this belongs to the drama department, or do the athletes use it for night games?”

Kinshiro ignored the question, which was fine since Atsushi hadn’t expected an answer. “I believe it’s some sort of dart-toss game. The secretary said we would need to buy balloons out of our budget.”

Atsushi went burrowing among some stacks of plywood and two-by fours. Some of the wood near the bottom bore traces of paint, and when Atsushi shoved a bundle of boards out of the way, he could just make out a few letters painted on it: “TRY YOUR LUCK!”

“I think this could be it,” he said. “Help me get this junk out of the way.”

The two of them hauled industriously, until at last their treasure had been unearthed. The booth consisted of several wooden panels, designed to be easily fitted together and pulled apart again by means of a clever arrangement of pegs and holes. After a few false starts, they managed to work out which bits went where. By the time they were finished, they were both dusty and sweaty, but pleased. They sat back on a pair of old coolers to admire their work.

“It’s a bit dusty,” said Kinshiro. He had taken off his uniform jacket, and his usually sleek hair was sticking together in sweaty clumps. His shirt was sweaty and dusty too, clinging to his back and chest. Atsushi had to resist the urge to stare. Kinshiro was always handsome, but this rumpled, disheveled look…

“I suppose we could clean it,” said Atsushi, pulling his mind back to more relevant topics. “Maybe touch up the paint a little.”

“We probably should,” Kinshiro agreed. “We’ve got a week before the festival, so if we met up on the weekend…”

“I’m free,” said Atsushi quickly. He’d been planning on hanging out with En and doing a little shopping, but… well, this was important, wasn’t it? Surely he could fit it in somewhere. “We should make some plans about buying the prizes, too.”

“You should probably be the one to decide that,” said Kinshiro. “I’m not sure I’d know what a suitable prize would be.”

“You should help pick them out anyway,” said Atsushi. “We could go shopping together and then… I don’t know, maybe get dinner somewhere afterwards.”

Now, where had that come from? He hadn’t had a meal alone with Kinshiro for years, not since they were little boys buying snacks from street vendors together.

Did it sound like I was asking him on a date? I hope he doesn’t think I was asking him on a date. I don’t want to make things awkward, not when everything is going so well…

But Kinshiro’s face had lit up like the sun coming out behind a cloud.

“I’d enjoy that very much,” he said. “Perhaps we could go to Kinoko?”

Atsushi considered only a moment. Kinoko was a moderately nice restaurant - very traditionally Japanese, a bit out of the way of the tourist traffic. It was just barely within Atsushi’s budget, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t splurge just a little for Kinshiro’s sake.

“I’d like that,” he said. He laughed a little. “I suppose you must have missed real home cooking while you were in England.”

“I really did,” said Kinshiro. “You’d have liked it, though. They serve a lot of curry in England.”

Atsushi laughed. “That doesn’t sound so bad, now that you mention it. If you ever go back, you should take me along so I can try it.”

“Perhaps I will,” said Kinshiro thoughtfully. Then he shook his head, pulling himself from whatever daydream he’d been wrapped up in. “But first, we need to do something about this stall. Help me haul it outside. I’ll call someone to come help me get it loaded into a car. We can store it in my garage until we need it.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Atsushi. He got reluctantly to his feet. It had been nice to just sit there and chat. Still, Kinshiro was never one to slack when there was work to be done.

Together, they manhandled the booth out into the schoolyard and gathered up all the odds and ends that came with it. It was indeed a dart-tossing game, consisting of a cork backboard on which numerous hooks had been hung. The idea seemed to be that prize tickets would be suspended from the hooks and balloons hung in front of them to obscure them, so that when the balloon popped the prize would be revealed. A lot of little cards with numbers printed on them had turned up in the bag with the darts that looked like they would fit on the hooks, and could presumably be rearranged at will so the crowds didn’t learn where the best prizes were hidden. Atsushi wondered about the wisdom of working at a booth where people would be throwing pointy objects in his general direction, but he supposed it was probably too late to back out now.

“We should go to the baths after this,” he said aloud. “The others might even still be there.”

“That sounds like fun,” said Kinshiro. “Even if they aren’t there, we could still go.”

Atsushi thought about being alone in the bath with Kinshiro. The fact that he was willing to visit the Kurotama at all was still so new to Atsushi that it still amazed him to think about. Before now, though, there had always been someone else there with them - usually En, often the rest of the Defense Club, sometimes the rest of the Student Council. It had never been just the two of them before. The thought made him feel oddly fluttery inside.

“We should still do that,” he agreed.

Kinshiro smiled at him. The light of the setting sun gilded his silvery hair and outlined the delicate lines of his face. Atsushi felt his throat go tight.

That was the moment he realized his life was about to get a lot more complicated. His friends had teased him often about the dramatically fraught relationship between the Student Council president and their own club’s reluctant leader, calling them boyfriends and joking about their “lover’s quarrel”, but he’d always laughed and shrugged it off. He and Kinshiro were just friends, that was all. They had missed each other. They had a lot of catching up to do. Of course they were always happy to see each other, and wanted to spend every moment they could together. Of course Atsushi felt a thrill every time he received a text message from Kinshiro or saw him smile just for him…

Looks like they were right after all.

******

Kinshiro strolled along the sidewalk, arms full of shopping bags, and reflected that today had been a good day.

He had gotten up early, and he and the rest of the festival crew had gotten to work making the booth look like something other than a thing that had been buried in a dusty shed for a year. Arima, of course, had been only too flattered at being asked to help. Kinshiro been amazed at how right Atsushi had been about Yumoto: once he’d understood what was wanted of him, he’d scrubbed harder than anyone to get the booth looking sparkling clean and ready for a coat of paint. Perhaps working at a bathhouse all his life had given him an affinity for scrubbing. He hadn’t been able to avoid getting white paint all over himself while they touched up the scuffed and discolored boards, but steadier heads and hands had assured that the finished product looked at least halfway professional. In fact, Kinshiro had been quite pleased with how it had turned out. With some flags and bunting hung on it, it would be as handsome a booth as anything at the festival.

Now he and Atsushi were strolling along side by side after a successful afternoon of shopping. Atsushi had located a party supply store that sold inexpensive gewgaws for people to use as decorations or party favors. Kinshiro had not previously been aware that such a thing existed in this city, and had wandered in great bemusement up and down the aisles, too overwhelmed by the number and variety of gimcrack plastic objects to think very sensibly about which might make good prizes for their booth. It had been up to Atsushi to fill their bags with flower crowns, miniature plush toys, tiny water guns, glow stick jewelry, and other objects that would delight the heart of a child or lighthearted adult.

“That was a lot of fun,” Atsushi remarked, swinging his bags at his side. “They had some neat stuff in there, didn’t they?”

“They did. I was actually a bit surprised,” Kinshiro admitted. “I wonder what the school will do with anything we don’t give away as prizes?”

Atsushi grinned. “Maybe they’ll let us keep some! That would be fun.”

Kinshiro admitted that it would. He normally would not have agreed to coveting anything that wasn’t up to his high aesthetic standards, but there was something about these small, brightly colored objects that appealed to the more primitive parts of his brain. Anyway, glow-sticks were fascinating.

They reached the restaurant. It was an unassuming little building, painted in shades of brown and off-white suitable to its name. Beside the front door hung an oval signboard depicting a cluster of variously-shaped mushrooms growing from a patch of leafy ground, with Kinoko painted beneath it in elegant script. It would be easy to walk past it and assume it was a florist, or an art gallery, or anything but what it was. The locals knew it, and anyone who wasn’t a local found out by word of mouth or didn’t find it at all. Atsushi smiled as they drew near.

“Do you remember,” he asked, “when we had your birthday party here?”

“I do,” Kinshiro admitted. “That was a good day, wasn’t it?”

“I thought it was kind of amazing,” said Atsushi. “Other little kids asked for hamburgers or pizza or ice cream on their birthdays, but you wanted to be like the grown-ups.”

“You must have been bored,” said Kinshiro.

“I was never bored,” said Atsushi.

A hostess greeted them pleasantly and showed them to their table. Atsushi began looking over the menu. Kinshiro pretended to, but he already knew what it said and had his order ready in his mind. He was happier watching the thoughtful expression on Atsushi’s face as he considered the options.

“It’s nice of you to say so,” said Kinshiro. “That you weren’t bored, I mean. When it was your birthday, you always wanted to go to the amusement park or the arcade.”

“And you wanted to go to nice restaurants and book stores and museums,” said Atsushi. “I remember one time we went to an actual tea house and went through the whole ceremony. You were so excited about it. I remember how you talked about it for days afterwards.”

“I suppose I was a strange child,” said Kinshiro. He could feel his face warming. He hadn’t realized that Atsushi retained so many embarrassing childhood recollections.

To his surprise, Atsushi smiled and placed a hand over his.

“Kinchan has always been Kinchan,” he said.

Kinshiro spluttered. “Atchan! What a thing to say.”

“It’s true, though. I mean, you’ve always been the way you are,” said Atsushi. “That makes me happy. I wouldn’t want to find out you’d turned into someone I didn’t know while we were apart.”

He settled back in his chair, looking thoughtful. Kinshiro wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or sorry that Atsushi had taken his hand away.

“I always thought you were fascinating,” he said. “You were always a little different from the other kids. You seemed so smart and mature… I was really flattered that you chose to spend time with me. Maybe that’s part of why I didn’t fight harder when you pulled away. I felt like maybe I wasn’t good enough for you, and it was only natural you’d figure it out sooner or later and go find some friends who were on your level.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Kinshiro blurted. “You know it wasn’t like that.”

“I know,” said Atsushi. “But I didn’t know that then.”

“I always thought you were special, too, you know,” said Kinshiro. He fidgeted with his napkin, unable to meet Atsushi’s gaze for the moment. “Everyone else always seemed to think I was weird or a snob, but you made me feel like a normal person. I stopped feeling that way after you were gone. I suppose that’s why everything went wrong afterwards.”

Atsushi smiled gently and patted Kinshiro’s hand again.

“It’s not going to be like that anymore,” he said.

Kinshiro mustered a smile. “No, it won’t.”

A waiter floated over to beam down on them.

“Good evening,” he said. “Are you ready to order, or do you need some more time?”

“I know what I want,” said Kinshiro.

And it was true: he knew exactly what he wanted. Looking at Atsushi smiling across from him, looking happy and at peace in Kinshiro’s company, he knew that <I>this</I> was what he wanted. He wanted the two of them to be together forever, just as they had promised each other they would all those years ago. He wanted to go on feeling like the world was a good and wholesome place and that he belonged in it, in that way that only Atsushi had ever been able to make him feel. He had known that a long time ago. The difference now was that the first time they’d promised to be together, they had been children, with only a hazy idea of the kinds of things the future might bring. Now he was nearly grown up, watching the end of his school days and the beginning of his adult life come speeding towards him, and what he wanted went beyond childhood trips to the arcade.

In short, what he wanted was for Atsushi to love him the way he loved Atsushi, and he had no idea if that was even possible anymore. Could he ask that, of someone who he had tried to kill only a few months ago? They had worked so hard even to rebuild a functioning friendship. He wasn’t sure he dared to ask for more. He didn’t really think he deserved it.

He rattled off his order by rote. Atsushi said, “That sounds good. I think I’d like the same as him.” Would you? Kinshiro mused. I wonder…

******

It was a perfect day for a festival. Atsushi got up early and headed out to the fairgrounds while the sun was still creeping over the horizon. He didn’t really mind - there was a nip in the early spring air that made him glad he’d brought his jacket, but some of the flowers were already starting to bloom, creating delicate touches of color amid the early morning mist that echoed the pink and rose of the cloud-dappled dawn sky. For that, it was worth getting up early. He reached the park and found Kinshiro, Arima, and the Hakone brothers already there and setting things up.

“Morning, all,” he called out. “I see we’ve got some extra help.”

“Anchan wanted to see our booth,” said Yumoto proudly. “He says I did a good job painting!”

Atsushi smiled, recalling how Yumoto had ended up with paint on his clothes, face, hands, and hair by the end of the exercise.

“You certainly gave it your all,” he agreed. “What can I do to help?”

Arima handed him a heavy-duty stapler. “Start hanging up some of the streamers. We’ve almost got the main part of the booth set up.”

Kinshiro smiled a little. “Which is to say Mr. Hakone just picked all the pieces up and slotted them in place like so many building blocks.”

“Just trying to be helpful,” said Gora. “Anyway, if you don’t need me anymore, I’m heading back to work. You guys enjoy the fair.”

“I hope you’ll get a chance to enjoy it too,” said Atsushi.

“No worries,” said Gora. “The twins promised to take over the front desk around lunchtime so I can come over for a while. Maybe I’ll even try my luck with the balloons.”

He sauntered off, leaving the remaining four workers to put on the finishing touches. Atsushi hung up their supply of streamers and ribbons, while Yumoto busily filled balloons and Arima hung up the prize tags. Once each balloon was filled, they were passed on to Kinshiro, who fastened each one in place. Atsushi finished with his decorating and started arranging the prizes temptingly on shelves along either side of the booth. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to get everything into place. When everything was finally done, they all stood back to admire the effect.

“It looks quite nice, if I do say so myself,” Arima observed.

“We did great,” Yumoto agreed. “Hey, can I play now?”

Atsushi smiled. “Go right ahead. Have you got some money?”

Yumoto handed over a few coins, and everyone stood back to let him have his throw. He hurled the dart apparently without aiming, but it struck an orange balloon dead-center with a satisfying <I>pop</I>! Atsushi laughed.

“Good throw!” he said. “You got a two, so that means you can have anything off this shelf here.”

Yumoto accepted one of the little plush toys.

“I’m gonna play again later and win one of the big ones!” he asserted. “Hey, Arima-sempai, are you going to play?”

“Not just yet,” he said. “I’d like to look around a little first. Unless you need me for anything else?”

“No, go on and have fun,” said Kinshiro. “Just remember to come back when it’s time to change shifts.”

“You can count on me,” said Arima. He turned to Yumoto. “So, shall we explore the fair together for a while?”

Yumoto agreed enthusiastically, and the two of them set out into the rapidly swelling crowd.

“I think it’s going to be a good day,” said Atsushi, fetching a new toy to replace the one Yumoto had won.

It did indeed look like the beginning of a fine day. The mist had burned away, and the day was now clear and sunny. Dozens of other booths had begun springing up, and the air was already full of the scent of good things cooking as the snack stands prepared for business. Someone just out of sight was playing music over a loudspeaker. The crowds were trickling in, and everyone seemed to be looking forward to a good time.

“I think it will be,” Kinshiro agreed.

Atsushi laughed. “You look so solemn when you say that.”

“Well, I mean what I say,” said Kinshiro. He looked briefly worried. “Do you think I should try to look more enthusiastic? I don’t want to drive away customers.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” said Atsushi.

Indeed, a few customers were already lining up to take their turn with the balloon toss. The two of them quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm - Atsushi called out to customers to come try their luck and handed out their prizes, Kinshiro collected money and periodically hung up new balloons and rearranged the prize numbers. Their cash box quickly filled up with money.

“We make a good team,” Atsushi remarked, and was gratified to see how pleased this made Kinshiro look.

Some meters away, Atsushi noticed a pair of little boys talking earnestly to each other. One was plump and rosy-cheeked, the other with the scabby knees and band-aided elbows that suggested an adventurous outdoor lifestyle, but they were alike enough in other ways that he guessed they were probably cousins or even brothers. Eventually, the outdoorsman said loudly enough for Atsushi to hear, “Well, if you won’t ask ‘em, I will!” and came trotting up to the balloon booth.

“Hi!” he said. “Hey, Mr. Balloon Guy, Magozaemon wants to know if the flower crowns are for anybody or if only girls can wear them?”

Atsushi smiled. “Well, personally, I think everyone looks good in flower crowns.”

To make his point, he took a ring of yellow flowers and placed it on his head, then offered a purple one to Kinshiro. Kinshiro looked at it blankly for a moment before solemnly accepting it and settling it neatly on his own head.

He looks adorable, Atsushi caught himself thinking. With his silvery hair and delicate features, he might have been some magical elfin creature. Atsushi hoped he didn’t look too silly by comparison, and suspected he only looked like a high school boy with plastic flowers on his head.

Still, the gesture seemed to please the little boy, who beamed and hurried off to tell his companion. A few seconds later, both of them returned and handed over their money. Atsushi helped them climb onto the step stool they had acquired for the smaller children to use. The boy who had first approached them, who Atsushi had gathered was called Ichiro, threw his dart so wildly that Atsushi was amazed it didn’t end up stuck to the ceiling, but instead it popped a yellow balloon in the far upper corner and netted him a small foam-rubber soccer ball. The one called Magozaemon stepped up with a serious expression on his cherubic face. He lined up his toss precisely, and neatly struck a green balloon. The expression on his face when Atsushi handed him a wreath of pink flowers and ribbons was enough to make Atsushi beam as well.

“There you go,” he said, as he gently placed the crown on the child’s head, so that the ribbons streamed down his back. “You look really cute!”

This was clearly the right thing to say. Mogazaemon glowed with pride. Ichiro tugged on his sleeve.

“Come on!” he said. “Let’s go try to catch goldfish next!”

Atsushi smiled as he watched them go. What cute kids. I wonder why his parents decided to stick him with a name like Magozaemon? I’ll bet he changes it as soon as he’s old enough…

He became aware that Kinshiro was watching him approvingly.

“You’re good with children,” he remarked. “I’ll bet you’ll make a wonderful father someday.”

Atsushi felt himself blushing. “Nah. You know I’d spoil them.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Kinshiro thoughtfully.

“I guess if I get married, it’ll have to be to someone who’s good at enforcing rules,” said Atsushi, without really thinking about it.

For some reason, the idea seemed to embarrass Kinshiro. He quickly turned away and began rearranging a display of miniature frisbees that had looked just fine to start with.

“I suppose so,” he said to the toys.

Atsushi quickly turned his attention to the next set of customers, a rather harassed looking woman with “chaperone” written all over her, trying to wrangle a flock of unruly children. Atsushi guessed from their matching lanyards that this was an official school outing, and that the woman was probably regretting volunteering for this.

I wonder what got him so flustered? Atsushi mused, as he made change. Did he think I was talking about him? Well, maybe I was.

He was diverted from this line of thought by a scuffle breaking out among the flock of children, and the chaperone’s attempts to deal with it.

“No, Masaru, it’s not your turn yet! Yukimi is first in line this time. No, Daichi, it’s not time to eat yet. Be patient. Taishi, don’t - Manza Taishi, you stop that right now! We do not pull people’s hair! Taishi!”

The irrepressible Taishi gave the pigtail of the girl he’d been teasing one last jerk, stuck his tongue out, and made as if to run off into the crowd. He managed to get about five steps before Kinshiro was suddenly in his path, scooping him up with a hand under each arm and holding him out at arm’s length. The little boy squirmed and kicked, but couldn’t make any headway against Kinshiro’s immovable grip.

“Now, that’s no way to behave,” said Kinshiro firmly.

“She was making fun of me!”

“That’s no excuse,” said Kinshiro. “You need to learn how to deal with people better than that, or no one is going to want to be friends with you.”

“Don’t care,” said the boy sullenly.

“You will someday,” said Kinshiro. “I suggest you do something about it now, while you have the chance. Anyway, if you misbehave, we won’t let you play with the balloons.”

That got through. The boy looked genuinely shocked. “But she already bought my ticket!”

“We’ll give it to someone else. Darts are sharp. We aren’t going to give them to someone who can’t be trusted to use them properly.”

The boy Taishi thought this over for a while.

“I’ll be good,” he consented at last.

“There we go, then,” said Kinshiro, setting him gently back on his feet. “You’re going to behave for this nice woman and not pick on anyone else today, right?”

The boy nodded. Kinshiro’s eyes were boring into his, fascinating him as a snake might fascinate a bird.

“Good,” said Kinshiro. “Then you may throw a dart when it is your turn.”

Taishi drew himself up and made a show of how well behaved he was being. The chaperone looked relieved.

“Thank you,” she said. “He’s a good boy at heart, really. They’re all just a little overexcited today because of the fair.”

“I understand,” said Kinshiro, passing a dart to the girl at the front of the line. “We all have our off moments.”

Atsushi grinned. When all the children had rushed off to some other entertainment - the troublemaking Taishi now proudly sporting a colorful new bandanna - Atsushi said, “You’re going to be a good father too someday.”

Kinshiro looked pleased. “I’m just used to being the disciplinarian, that’s all.”

Atsushi grinned. “I think the little guy liked you. You’ve got a lot of charisma, you know.”

Kinshiro’s cheeks were definitely pink now. “Flatterer.”

“A lot more than me, that’s for sure,” said Atsushi.

“Not at all,” said Kinshiro. “You’re a very charming person.”

Atsushi beamed. “Call it even, then?”

Kinshiro smiled back. “If you like.”

The two of them stood that way for a few seconds, just smiling and looking into each other’s eyes.

Someone cleared their throat.

“I can come back later if this is a bad time,” said an imperious voice.

Atsushi jumped and turned his attention to the mother of three who had just approached the booth.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he said. “Will that be three tries, then? All right, that’s a hundred yen each…”

Still, even the frosty look the woman was still giving him couldn’t dampen his good mood.

I really am glad Kinchan asked me to do this.

The day wore on. Kinshiro looked down at his watch and was surprised to see that noon had already come and gone. The flow of customers had become so steady that he’d barely had time to stop moving, much less notice the time. Now he realized that he was getting hungry, and wondered when his relief would be here to spell him.

“Do you see any sign of Arima and Yumoto?” he asked, in between bouts of pumping up fresh balloons.” “Not yet,” said Atsushi, as he passed a plastic bracelet to a little girl, “but I’m sure they… oh, wait, there they are!”

He waved to someone Kinshiro couldn’t quite see. Sometimes, he thought, he envied Atsushi for being taller than him. It made it that much easier to find people in crowds.

Soon, though, Arima became visible through the throng. He was followed by a bobbing balloon that probably meant that his diminutive companion was somewhere close to him. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Yumoto himself pushed his way to the front, with Wombat tucked under one arm and a bag of assorted prizes slung over the other. A half-eaten corn cob on a stick was clutched in one hand, and there was a smear of ketchup on his cheek.

“I see at least one of you has been having fun,” Kinshiro observed. “I take it you’ve eaten lunch?”

“I have,” Arima said. “I think this one has had several lunches. I’ve never seen someone eat seven corn dogs in succession before. Where does he put them, do you think?”

Atsushi laughed. “I don’t think he puts them anywhere. I think he just burns through them, like a furnace.”

“He is certainly very active,” said Arima.

“I knew I was gonna hafta work all afternoon,” said Yumoto plausibly, “and I can’t have any snacks while I’m working, so I had to fuel up!”

“Thank you for being so far-sighted,” said Kinshiro dryly. “Are you ready to take over, then? I don’t mind admitting, I’d like something to eat myself.”

“Ready when you are,” said Arima.

Atsushi passed possession of the cash box over to Arima’s capable hands and issued orders for Yumoto to unbox some more prizes. Wombat hid himself beneath the counter and went to work blowing up more balloons. Once they were satisfied that all was in good hands, Kinshiro and Atsushi set out into the fair.

“Free at last!” said Atsushi, turning his face to the sun as though he’d just emerged from a cave. “That was kind of fun, though, wasn’t it?”

Kinshiro agreed that it had been. He actually wasn’t sure whether “fun” was the correct word, but he hadn’t disliked it. He always took satisfaction in having a job to do and knowing he was doing it well. All the same, he was happier now that he was off the hook and free to explore the festival with Atsushi.

“Where shall we go first?” he asked.

“Let’s find something to eat,” said Atsushi. “What do you think would be good? Grilled noodles? Okonomiyaki? Or are you feeling brave enough to try one of those corn dogs Yumoto liked so much?”

“I don’t think I’ll risk finding out he didn’t leave us any,” said Kinshiro dryly. He considered his options. Festival food was not really part of his regular diet. He had more or less convinced himself that it was all spectacularly unhealthy, dubiously hygienic, and definitely below his social status. On the other hand, he was starving, and everything he passed smelled wonderful.

“I think,” he said, with great deliberation, “that I could be persuaded to eat okonomiyaki.”

Atsushi grinned. “Good choice.”

They browsed among the food stalls, picking up plates of this and cartons of that as the impulse came to them, and Kinshiro gradually began to relax and enjoy himself. Maybe it was the fresh cool air, or the fact that he really was very hungry, or the fact that everything was being given to him fresh and steaming straight from the grill. Whatever the reason, everything Kinshiro tried was delicious, and when Atsushi suggested they should get something for dessert, he didn’t put up any argument.

“What should we get?” Atsushi asked. “That’s the trouble with these fairs, you know? There are so many good things you can’t try them all.”

“I don’t know,” Kinshiro admitted. “It looks like there’s…”

He didn’t finish saying what there was before a small child collided with the back of his legs.

“Oops! Sorry!” said the boy.

“You should be more careful where you’re going,” said Kinshiro. He turned to look at the boy. “I know you. You’re Unazuki Taiju, aren’t you? Your father owns the construction company.”

The boy nodded. “That’s me. Sorry, I just wanted to catch up to my friend.”

“All right. Just watch where you’re going from now on,” said Kinshiro.

Taiju nodded. Then he dashed off again, calling to his friend. “Wakura! Hey, Wakura! Dad says he’s going to buy us ice cream!”

“That’s an idea,” Atsushi remarked. “Do you want to get ice cream too?”

“Hmm… no. We can get ice cream any time we want.” Kinshiro realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he’d just said “we”. He wondered if Atsushi would take it as an invitation. Quickly, he went on, “I want to get something a little more out of the everyday, like cotton candy or a candied apple.”

“I think you’re right,” said Atsushi. He looked around, eyes serious as he scanned the various offerings. Kinshiro couldn’t help but admire him. He looked so intelligent, even though he had apparently forgotten he was still wearing a crown of yellow flowers. Come to think of it, Kinshiro was still wearing his, but he had no inclination to take it off. After all, it had been a gift from Atchan, and he didn’t have so many of those that he was willing to cast this one off lightly.

“Aha!” said Atsushi, expression brightening. “I see just the thing.”

He grabbed Kinshiro’s hand and began leading him through the crowd. Kinshiro almost stumbled, all other thoughts subsumed by the thought that was, Atsushi is holding my hand! Somehow he managed to stagger and regain his footing well enough to follow Atsushi on his zigzagging course through the crowd until they had reached on specific booth.

“Here we are!” said Atsushi. “What do you think?”

He sounded so proud of himself that Kinshiro was prepared to say that whatever he’d dragged him to was fine. Then a shift in the air brought a scent of sweet baking dough, and he realized that Atsushi had found a taiyaki stand. For an instant, he was back in time, a little boy sitting beside his best friend at a table in the mall, contentedly ruining his appetite for dinner with those little fish-shaped cakes, and all was right with the world.

“It’s perfect,” he said, around the sudden tightness in his throat.

Atsushi beamed. “I knew you’d think it was a good idea.

They ordered bags of small taiyaki - custard filled and chocolate filled for Atsushi, red bean and matcha custard for Kinshiro. Then they wandered away from the crowds, out into the parts of the park that hadn’t been taken over by booths and picnic tables, looking for a quiet place to enjoy their dessert and rest their feet for a while. Kinshiro nibbled a cake, still warm and steaming, the filling melting on his tongue, and thought that the world really was a good place after all.

“Hey, look,” said Atsushi, nudging him.

He was pointing to three little boys playing together under a nearby tree. Or rather, Kinshiro realized, one little boy napping while the other two attempted to rouse him.

“Come on, Kyotaro!” the red-headed one was saying. “We’re all done eating now. It’s time to go back to the fair.”

The drowsy Kyotaro flapped a hand and said something too quietly for Kinshiro to hear. The boy with the glossy black hair rolled his eyes dramatically and said, “Come on, Ryouma. If he won’t come we should just go without him.”

“But Ata…!” Ryouma protested.

Atsushi laughed as they walked past.

“It’s like if you and me and En-chan were all kids together,” he said.

“It really is,” said Kinshiro. “I hope things don’t get as complicated for them as it did for us.”

Atsushi smiled and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he said, “could get as complicated for them as it did for us.”

Kinshiro smiled. “You’re probably right.” Then he sobered again. “You know, I wish it had been like that. Can you imagine? If maybe that day you had told me where you were going and I had decided to come along just to keep you company. We’d have met Yufuin and he’d have been my friend as well as yours and none of this nonsense would have ever happened.”

“Hmm,” said Atsushi. “If that had happened, I might never had met Wombat or gotten to be friends with Yumoto or Arima and Akoya and the Beppu brothers, and I’d have been kind of sorry if I thought I’d missed my chance to be a superhero. That part was kind of fun sometimes. But I am sorry we didn’t get to spend more of our childhood together. I’m sorry you had to be so lonely for so long. I wish we could have had it both ways.”

Kinshiro’s lips quirked. “The Battle Lovers and the Caerula Adamas fighting together against the evil of TV Universe? I suppose that wouldn’t have been so bad.”

“It would have been fun,” said Atsushi. He smiled. “I think next time, though, I really am going to have to be more careful what I wish for. I wouldn’t have wished to be a superhero if I’d thought it would involve me fighting with you.”

“So, what would you wish for this time?” Kinshiro asked.

Atsushi smiled. “I’ll have to think about it and let you know. What would you wish for?”

“The same as last time,” said Kinshiro promptly. “For us to be together for the rest of our lives.”

Atsushi nodded. “I’ll try, then.”

Kinshiro found himself oddly pleased by that noncommittal answer. If Atsushi had promised unhesitatingly that Kinshiro shouldn’t worry, that Atsushi would always be there for him whenever he needed him, then Kinshiro wouldn’t have been able to make himself believe it. He’d believed it when he’d been a child, and had been disillusioned when he’d found out it wasn’t going to happen that way. Now they were both older, and understood that sometimes things happened. Sometimes they would be misunderstandings that would have to be worked through. Sometimes they would be things outside of their control. All Kinshiro needed to hear was that Atsushi wasn’t going to just give up on the two of them the next time an obstacle dropped in their path.

“Thank you,” said Kinshiro. “That actually makes me feel better.”

Atsushi flashed a bright smile. “At least I can promise to spend the rest of the fair with you. What do you say we finish our dessert and then go try some of those games? I’ll bet with all that archery you do, you’d be really good at hitting targets.”

Kinshiro smiled back. “I’ll win you something.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Atsushi protested.

“No, I want to. To thank you for agreeing to go through this whole ordeal with me.”

“I was glad to do it. It’s been fun,” Atsushi insisted.

“Then accept it as a gift from a friend,” said Kinshiro.

Atsushi nodded. “That’s all right, then.”

Kinshiro smiled and reached into his bag for another taiyaki, already planning his strategy. He was going to win Atsushi the biggest, best prize at this fair if he had anything to say about it. And maybe when he gave it to him, buoyed by his success, he’d be able to say why he’d really won it. If not, well, Atsushi would still be accepting it as a sign of friendship, and that would be almost good enough.

******

Atsushi stood aside and watched as Kinshiro patiently lined up his shot. At moments like this, he could have been some legendary warrior of ancient legend - some demigod, perhaps, come to do a bit of righteous smiting. His back was straight, his chin held high, his eyes hard and bright with the glint of battle. A stray breeze ruffled his hair, and Atsushi sighed.

He really is gorgeous. Maybe if we’d spent more time together I’d have noticed it sooner. As it was, he had to assume that the only reason someone hadn’t snapped him up already was that Kinshiro had firm views about people messing around with dating when they should be concentrating on their schoolwork.

With snakelike speed, Kinshiro went from statuesque stillness to a blur of motion. The ball he’d been holding shot from his hand to smack squarely into a pyramid of bottles. They clattered to the ground - all but one, which wobbled precariously back and forth on its base. Atsushi held his breath, but Kinshiro simply stared, coolly daring it to defy his will. The bottle gave up.

“Great job!” the man behind the counter cheered. “You get a prize. What would you like?”

Kinshiro glanced at Atsushi, who grinned and said, “You pick.”

Kinshiro surveyed the offerings before selecting a windbreaker dtenciled with “Binan City” and a view of Mt. Binan on it. He solemnly offered it to Atsushi.

“You keep it,” said Atsushi, holding up his hands in protest. “You already got me this.”

He held up the plush toy Kinshiro had acquired at the pop-gun stand: a round and smiling onsen manju over a foot across, pink-cheeked and button-eyed. It was amazingly soft and squishy, and Atsushi couldn’t help but feel that En would be jealous of it, and probably try to steal it for a pillow.

I’m not letting him have it, though. If he wanted one, he could win it himself. Possibly he had - Atsushi had seen him briefly outside the balloon booth, chatting with Arima as he prepared to take a chance with the darts. Atsushi had considered asking him to join them for a while, and decided against it. En, while always good company, would be a complication Atsushi wasn’t prepared to deal with just now. Later Atsushi would call him and they could hash over the day together, maybe even meet up at the baths if it was still open by the time Atsushi got home. For now…

“It will look better on you,” Kinshiro insisted. “Anyway, you won me this. Fair is fair.”

He indicated the canvas tote bag that Atsushi had managed to win at the coin toss. It wasn’t a bad bag, as these things went, but Atsushi didn’t feel it quite counted. It was only one step up from a consolation prize, for those who managed to toss a coin into the outer ring of the slippery target but hadn’t managed to hit dead-center. Atsushi felt it was a poor repayment for the grand prize Kinshiro had won for him.

“Well, all right,” he allowed, “but if you see something else you’d like, you have to let me know so I can try for it.”

Kinshiro nodded. “All right.”

Privately, Atsushi suspected that Kinshiro was just humoring him, but Atsushi wasn’t about to let the matter drop so easily. There had to be something at this fair that he could offer to Kinshiro that would help him express all these complicated things he was feeling.

“What do you want to do next?” Kinshiro asked, glancing at his watch. “The fair will be closing down soon.”

It was true. The sun was inching towards the horizon now, painting the fair in shades of gold and rose. Once it began to get dark, the booths would fold up and the fairgoers would begin to depart - not to go home, though, not all of them. Most of them would head to the other end of the park, down by the river, where the fireworks display would be held. They were always a high point of the festival, and Atsushi was looking forward to them.

“Let’s make one last circuit of the fair,” he said, “and then check in and see if Arima and Yumoto are ready to close up yet.”

“And then the fireworks?” Kinshiro suggested.

“Definitely fireworks,” Atsushi admitted. “I wouldn’t miss them.”

Kinshiro’s smile was inscrutable. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Atsushi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’ll see,” said Kinshiro mysteriously. “Come on. Let’s make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

They walked slowly, taking everything in. Already the crowds were thinning out, as parents brought tired and cranky children home and locals slipped off to find dinners that weren’t fair food. The raucous noise of shouting people, squealing children, and popping balloons had quieted to a gentle murmur. Atsushi found himself looking less at the booths he was strolling past and more at Kinshiro. The light of the setting sun reflected off his hair and cast gold highlights on his face. He looked relaxed and peaceful in a way that warmed Atsushi’s heart. He hadn’t often seen his dear friend looking so content.

“Atchan?”

Atsushi jerked his mind away from contemplating the way the sunset highlighted Kinshiro’s eyelashes.

“Yes?” he asked warily.

“You aren’t really looking at the fair, are you?”

Atsushi felt himself going red with embarrassment. “Guess not. Sorry. It’s just… you look so happy, and it’s nice to see you smile.”

That smile broadened. “I am happy. I’m so glad I got to spend this day with you. I just wish I’d had the sense to do this sooner.”

“Well, we’re doing it now. That’s what’s important.”

Kinshiro shook his head. “I’m not so sure. All that time is gone, and we can’t get it back, and it’s all because I was stupid.”

Atsushi politely declined to comment on whether or not Kinshiro had been stupid. He walked along silently for a second or two, watching the clouds in the west go from gold to pink to purple.

“We’re going to be graduating soon,” he remarked.

“I know,” said Kinshiro. “And then we’ll be going out into the world.”

“That’s right,” said Atsushi. “We’ll be adults, and we’ll be able to make choices for ourselves - what schools to go to, where to live, what jobs we do.”

“Yes..?” said Kinshiro, in a tone that said gently, “And where are you going with this?”

“So are you sorry you spent all that time in school when you could have been out in the world doing what you decide to do?”

“No, of course not. How could I? I had to go to school first to… oh.”

Atsushi nodded. “It takes time to learn things. Maybe you could have learned it faster, maybe you couldn’t. Maybe you needed that time to let go of being hurt and be ready to start over. Maybe I needed time to learn things too. Things happened when it was time for them to happen. We might have used up a lot of time, but we didn’t waste it.”

Kinshiro regarded him with wide, amazed eyes. Then he shook his head.

“The way you see the world is really something special,” he said.

Atsushi laughed. “The way you say that, I can’t tell if you mean it as a good thing or a bad one.”

“It’s a good thing,” Kinshiro insisted. He turned his head, eyes tracking something out of Atsushi’s line of vision. “Oh! Look at that!”

Atsushi turned to look where Kinshiro was pointing. The attraction was a ring-toss booth, but Kinshiro wasn’t looking at the game itself. He was looking at the prizes. Most of them were the usual suspects, the same sorts of things that Atsushi and Kinshiro had spent their morning giving away. A few, though, were clearly meant to be grand prizes, and were safely shut away in a clear plastic box where they could be admired without any danger of being smashed by a wildly tossed ring. A few gaps showed where lucky players had already carried off some of the best prizes, but Atsushi could still see a new video game, a detailed figurine of a popular anime character, a glittering necklace, and… yes, that had to be it: a teapot with matching cups. They were all the same shade of soft celedon green, touched gently with strokes of black, white, and gray that suggested the outlines of leaves tossed by the wind. They were simple, elegant, and beautiful, and Atsushi could easily believe that Kinshiro must be coveting them.

“Nice,” he said. “That teapot would look perfect on display in your room.”

Kinshiro nodded slowly. “I wonder if I could…”

“Let me,” said Atsushi.

Kinshiro half-smiled. “I was going to say, I wonder if they would let me buy it off them, since the day is nearly over and no one has won it yet.”

“No, no, no,” Atsushi insisted, playfully wagging a finger. “It’s a prize. You have to win it or it doesn’t count. Anyway, you won me a jacket. And a plushie.”

“It’s not the same. I’m sure that tea set is worth a lot more than a cheap windbreaker.”

“Well, let me at least try,” said Atsushi. “You can try it your way if mine doesn’t work.”

“Stubborn,” said Kinshiro, but he was smiling when he said it.

Atsushi stepped up to the booth and regarded it thoughtfully.

“How does this work?” he asked.

“Pretty simple,” said the barker. “Five hundred yen gets you three tosses. You get a ring around one of these poles, you get a prize. The bigger the pole, the bigger the prize.

Atushi nodded. The poles stood in a row, with the smallest sitting nearest and the biggest the furthest away. Atsushi could see that it was nearly as big around as the hoops themselves, so that only a toss that was dead on target would drop onto it. Still, he had to try. He handed over his money.

I can do this, he told himself. He sized up the target. The little ones, he could ignore - it would have to be the teapot or nothing.

“Here we go,” he said aloud.

“You don’t actually have to do this,” said Kinshiro, as Atsushi lined up his shot. “I’d be just as happy with something else. Anyway, you know these games are rigged so that it’s impossible to…”

Atsushi tossed his ring. It wafted gently through the air, seeming to drift rather than sail. He watched with a sense of inevitability as it landed neatly on the furthest goal and dropped into place as though drawn by a magnet. Kinshiro’s jaw dropped. Atsushi blinked, as stunned as anybody.

“That was just a practice throw,” he said no one in particular. “I wasn’t actually expecting to hit anything.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said the barker. He shrugged and grinned. “Well, it looks like you’re the last winner for the day. What do you want?”

Atsushi felt a smile spread across his face as he took in what had just happened.

“We’ll have that tea set, please.”

“Right you are,” said the barker. “I’ll box it up for you.”

Shortly afterwards, Kinshrio was clutching a cardboard box to his chest as if the teapot and cups were precious treasures that everyone in the world might be expected to steal.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” he said, for the second or third time.

Atsushi grinned. The repetition didn’t bother him. It was rare enough that Kinshiro was impressed by anything that he was enjoying the novelty.

“It was just fate,” he said. “That tea set was destined for you.”

“I love it,” said Kinshiro sincerely. “I’ll think of it you every time I use it.”

Atsushi felt a little thrill run through him when Kinshiro said the word “love.” He hoped his flusterment wasn’t showing too clearly on his face.

“I hope you enjoy it,” he managed. “Come on. Let’s go help the others close up. I don’t think I can top that performance, so I might as well end on a high note.”

They reached the booth where Arima and Yumoto were helping the last few stragglers. A boy ceremoniously handed his prize to the young woman with him, and the two of them strolled off hand in hand. Yumoto called out a goodbye to them, as enthusiastic as though he hadn’t spent the whole day waiting on customers. It was Arima who first realized that his friends were returning.

“Well, hello there,” he said. “I see you two have been having fun.”

Yumoto turned to beam at them. “Hey, guys! Wait until you see! We made so much money!”

“I see you’ve been doing very well,” Atsushi agreed. The supply of prizes was looking decidedly picked over.

“It was lots of fun!” Yumoto agreed.

“Do you need us to help you get it all back to school?” Arima asked.

Kinshiro shook his head. “You two go on. Get something to eat. Watch the fireworks. My people are coming back with a truck to help us haul this away, so Atchan and I can take it from here.”

“Okay!” said Yumoto cheerfully. “Hey, Arima-sempai, you want to come to the baths? Anchan’s making a big dinner and then we’re all going to the twins’ house to watch the fireworks from their roof. You can come too, if you want,” he added magnanimously, to Kinshiro and Atsushi.

“Thank you,” said Kinshiro, “but I have other plans.”

He cast a quick, speaking glance towards Atsushi. Atsushi had been considering taking up the offer, but now he held back, wondering what Kinshiro was up to.

“Okay, then,” said Yumoto. “See you tomorrow!”

He went bouncing off, with Arima following behind him at his usual sedate pace. Kinshiro turned back to Atsushi.

“I hope you don’t mind me volunteering you,” he said.

“Not at all,” said Atsushi. “I’m glad to help.”

Kinshiro smiled and shook his head. “Sometimes you’re almost a little too eager to volunteer help… but in this case I’m glad of it.”

“Oh?” said Atsushi.

Kinshiro’s smile became mysterious. “You’ll see.”

******

The trip back to school was a bumpy one. Kinshiro and Atsushi ended up riding in the back of the truck among the bits of disassembled booth. They didn’t talk much, since they had to invest most of their energy in not being jostled or squashed as everything rattled about. Kinshiro was surprisingly all right with that. It meant he didn’t have to make conversation and potentially spoil his surprise.

They reached the school, and Kinshiro directed his driver around to the back gate where they could unload the booth more easily. Atsushi started to help the driver unpack, but Kinshiro stopped him.

“Let him do it,” he said. “You’ve had a long day already.”

“Are you sure?” asked Atsushi, casting a guilty look to where the driver was already hauling things out of the back of the truck.

“It’s fine,” said Kinshiro. “He’s up to the job, and he’s being paid for it. I want you to come with me for a minute.”

“Oh. Okay,” said Atsushi. “Where are we going?”

“First,” said Kinshiro, “I want to take the cash box inside and put it away where it will be safe. After that…” He faltered slightly. “Well, I was hoping you might want to have dinner with me and watch the fireworks.”

“I’d love to,” said Atsushi. The way he lit up warmed Kinshiro’s heart.

This might actually be all right…

He fetched a key from his pocket and let himself and Atsushi into the school. The building was dark and silent, and slightly spooky in the absence of any other people. He was gratified to find Atsushi edging closer to him.

“It’s so much bigger when there are no people here,” he murmured, as they picked their way silently across the entry hall.

“I know what you mean,” Kinshiro agreed. He couldn’t help but find it a little unsettling to see the school he loved so much empty of life and light. He found himself wondering how Atsushi would take it if he tried holding his hand, but he restrained himself.

They reached the door to the council room without incident. Kinshiro let himself in with a different key and went to put the cash box away while Atsushi wandered around the room. The damage left by the disaster of the school festival was gone now, its only trace being a few spots on one wall where the paint was a bit fresher than the rest. Still, Kinshiro wondered if Atsushi might be thinking about that moment when he’d first realized that his club’s humble base was connected to this room.

“This is a really nice place,” said Atsushi aloud. “It’s no wonder you hang out in here so much.”

Kinshiro smiled a little. “It serves its purpose.” He strolled over to the window and unlatched it. “There’s a good view from here, too. Come and see.”

Atsushi obediently crossed the room to peer out the open window.

“Wow, you’re right,” he said. “The stars are beautiful tonight…”

While he was contemplating the view, Kinshiro crouched and began rummaging under his desk. After a moment, Atsushi turned around to see what he was doing.

“What have you got there?” he asked, as Kinshiro came up with a bundle in his hands.

“Dinner, if you want it,” said Kinshiro, a bit sheepishly. “I suppose you’ll think this is silly, but I had this idea… I thought we’d be able to see the fireworks really well from the school roof, so I thought if you were all right with it…”

“You’re asking me if I want to have dinner with you on the roof?” Atsushi guessed.

Kinshiro nodded. Atsushi beamed.

“That’s a great idea,” he said. “I should have thought of that myself.”

Kinshiro glowed with pride. He slid his picnic basket onto his arm and gestured to the open window with his free hand.

“After you, then,” he said.

Atsushi grinned and bounded through the window with the confidence of someone who had done it before. Perhaps he had. Kinshiro was vaguely aware that students sometimes slipped out the windows to sunbathe on the roof, or to cut classes, or just to read quietly away from the bustle of the rest of the school. Kinshiro could all too easily imagine Atsushi and the rest of the Earth Defense Club clambering onto the roof to watch the sun set while they rambled on about everything and nothing.

Well, tonight it’s going to be with me, he thought.

He started to climb out the window. It occurred to him that he had never actually done this before. Oh, Chevalier Aurite had perched dramatically on the roof more times than he could count, but plain old Kusatsu Kinshiro had never done anything so undignified or dubiously rule-abiding as climb out a school window. His balance faltered a little as he tried to find his footing and manage his picnic basket at the same time. Then a hand closed around his, and Kinshiro looked up into Atsushi’s smiling face.

“It’s all right,” said Atsushi. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you,” Kinshiro managed, and somehow managed to get out onto the ledge without losing his balance or his composure and falling flat on his face - or worse, onto the ground four floors below.

It was better once he was outside, though. The tiles of the roof had absorbed the warmth of the day, so even though the air was growing cooler, it was pleasant up where they were. They clambered their way up to the top of the roof and into the bell tower. Kinshiro spread his picnic out for them. It was outrageously simple fare, by his own standards: fruit, sandwiches, bags of chips and nuts, cookies, bottled tea, things that would be all right left sitting around all day. He’d also had the foresight to pack a small blanket, in case the weather got chilly. Atsushi seemed delighted with the repast, though, and set about helping Kinshiro unpack it all with good will.

“I know what we need,” he said.

He reached into his pocket and took out some of the glow sticks he’d collected from the booth. He snapped them and arranged them around the perimeter of their picnic while Kinshiro watched in bemusement. Atsushi grinned.

“Nearly as good as candles,” he said.

Kinshiro smiled back. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The two of them settled down on the blanket and tucked into their feast. Simple as it was, Kinshiro couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed a meal more. He and Atsushi chatted companionably, hashing over their thoughts on the fair and speculating on what the rest of their friends might have done with their holiday. Occasionally they’d lapse into a silence that neither of them really minded. For Kinshiro, it was enough that he was here, that Atchan was there with him, the stars were shining overhead, and all was right with the world.

“We should do this kind of thing more often,” said Atsushi.

“I don’t know when we’ll get another chance to sneak onto the roof,” said Kinshiro.

“I don’t mean quite like that,” said Atsushi. “I guess I just mean… well, things. Going to the movies or on a picnic or to fairs or… anywhere, really.”

“We will,” said Kinshiro. “We’ll get to visit each other a lot while we’re in college. After that, well…”

“We’ll make something work out,” said Atsushi. There was a gleam in his eyes that suggested one way or another, he meant to make it happen. He’d fight monsters for it, if necessary.

“We will,” said Kinshiro. He gathered up the last of the wrappers and tucked them neatly into his picnic basket. He checked the time on his phone. “Fireworks are about to start.”

“Better get a good view, then,” said Atsushi.

They moved out onto the spine of the roof, where they had a clearer view of the city. It was beautiful from up there, with all the city lights shining in their multitude of colors. If Kinshiro listened carefully, he could hear the distant music of the band that was playing to entertain the crowd before the fireworks started. Local garage band, Kinshiro thought, hoping to rise to greatness on the coattails of the VEPPer. They weren’t anything like as talented as Aki and Haru, Kinshiro suspected, but muffled by distance they sounded all right.

Asushi settled down next to him and tucked the blanket around the two of them.

“What…?” Kinshiro yelped, startled to find himself suddenly bundled up in the same blanket as Atsushi.

“So you don’t get cold,” said Atsushi. “You always did get cold easily.”

“You always said you’d keep me warm,” Kinshiro murmured. “I remember.”

Atsushi leaned his head on Kinshiro’s shoulder.

“A lot sure has happened since then,” he said. “I’m glad it all worked out all right. I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too,” said Kinshiro, with feeling. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you. It’s hard to believe I could be so stupid as to spend so much time doing the opposite of what I really wanted to do.”

“Well, I could have done better, too,” said Atsushi. “But all that’s over. Now it’s time to think about what we want to do next.”

Kinshiro smiled slightly. “I think I want to watch the fireworks with you. After that… maybe just lie here and look at the stars for a while.”

“I’d like that too,” said Atsushi. “But what about after that?”

“After that?” Kinshiro hesitated. He was tempted to say, “I’m not sure,” but that wasn’t true. He knew what he wanted for the future, for tonight and tomorrow and the rest of his life, and that was to spend as much of it as possible with the man he loved. He just wasn’t sure how to get that out without making a fool of himself.

“What do you want?” he asked, feeling like a coward.

“I want… to spend a lot of nights watching the stars with you. I want to go to the library with you and sit and read together for hours. I want to go to coffee shops with you and drink coffee and talk until the baristas get tired of us sitting there and throw us out. I want to go to more festivals like this one. I want to do so many things I can’t list them all.” Atsushi turned towards him, his warm eyes serious. “I wish I never had to spend another day without you. That’s what I want - for us to be together forever, just like I promised we would.”

“That’s what I want too,” Kinshiro whispered.

Maybe it was because he was tired and his defenses were down. Maybe it was because he’d spent the whole day wishing he could do this. Maybe it was because he had planned this whole picnic idea with the hope that it would help him get to the point where he could. Maybe it was because he knew he’d never get a better chance than this. Maybe it was just because Kinshiro couldn’t stand the temptation any longer, but whatever it was, it was powerful enough to make Kinshiro lean close to Atsushi and kiss him.

A flickering of light on his eyelids told Kinshiro that the fireworks had just started. They were nothing compared to the fireworks that seemed to be going on inside him. After a second or two, he pulled away again, suddenly worried that he had ruined everything. He couldn’t quite read the expression on Atsushi’s face.

“Atchan?” he hazarded.

“You just kissed me.”

“Yes.” Kinshiro felt his face going red. Of all the stupid, impulsive… and just when they’d started to make real progress, too…

“Why?”

Kinshiro stared up into Atsushi’s gentle face. He didn’t look angry, or repulsed, only mildly quizzical. The fireworks going off in the background colored his features rose and gold and emerald.

“Because I wanted to,” Kinshiro admitted. “You’re just so warm and kind, and I always feel so happy when you’re near me, and it just came over me all at once, and…”

He stopped babbling as Atsushi raised a hand to cup his cheek.

“Would you like to try again?” Atsushi asked gently.

Kinshiro sighed with relief. He hadn’t ruined everything after all. He closed his eyes and leaned into Atsushi’s embrace. This time, there were a lot more flashes and bangs in the background before they pulled apart again. Atsushi laughed giddily.

“Wow,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day. All week.”

“Me too,” Kinshiro admitted.

Atsushi was still giggling. “Boy, are we slow or what? We take forever to do everything.”

Such was Kinshiro’s current state of elation that this struck him as hilariously funny. They both leaned against each other and laughed as the fireworks display reached its crescendo. Kinshiro reached for Atsushi’s hand and felt it close around his.

“Our friends are never going to let us hear the end of this when they find out, you know,” said Atsushi. “En-chan is going to tease us about it until we’re a hundred.”

“Let him,” said Kinshiro. “He had it figured out before we did, didn’t he?”

“He’s smarter than he lets on,” Atsushi agreed. “And I think he’ll be happy for us. I’m happy for us.”

“So am I,” said Kinshiro fervently. “I really do love you, you know.” It felt good to finally get the words out.

“I know,” said Atsushi.

“Mm.” Kinshiro settled himself more comfortably under the blanket. It was nice here, his head resting on Atsushi’s shoulder, the two of them holding hands. “I think the fireworks display is over.”

“Looks like it,” Atsushi agreed. He made no move to get up.

“Want to stay here a while longer?” Kinshiro asked.

“Mm-hm.”

“All right. Just for a little while, though. Tomorrow is a school day, you know.”

Atsushi laughed. “Nothing changes you, does it?” He gave Kinshiro’s hand a squeeze. “I love you.”

They leaned back against the tiled roof, holding hands and looking up at the stars. Far below them, the last of the fireworks winked out, the audience began to go home, and the city lights dimmed. The spring festival was over, but for the two of them, the real celebration was just beginning.

#boueibu valentine #boueibu #kinatsu #kinugawa atsushi #kusatsu kinshiro #silvormoon #kinatsuaddict17 #fanfic #submission

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