#kiriya kyosuke | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dangerouscommiesubversive · 3 years ago

Note

Song: “Sunset” by The Midnight

Character: main Rider of your choice ^_^

There are several Riders who I feel would fit with this song, especially the line “make our home where we stand, one suitcase and half a plan” so I’m interested to see who you pick! Also I love this song and everyone should listen to it, lol.

Hey, hon! I picked, uh...every main Rider of Heisei Phase 1, Kuuga through Decade. It got a little long.

Readers, please note that these little vignettes are all set after their respective series, and may contain spoilers.

Song: "Sunset," The Midnight (Spotify)

sunset, no regrets

we could run away

The beach is crowded, and Kaoru briefly regrets caving to the affectionate pressure of his friends and booking a vacation in Hawaii. He could have gone somewhere quiet and had time to himself, instead of being in the middle of such riotous noise.

At the same time, though, the sun feels nice on his shoulders, and there’s a good wind. He hasn’t been swimming in years, really. Honestly, he hasn’t been entirely comfortable going to public pools since…he doesn’t go to pools anymore. But the ocean is different. The ocean smells nice, and the sound of the waves is soothing even coming as it does only underneath layer after layer of voices. He can relax here a little. At least, he’ll try to.

After some hunting, he does find somewhere to sit that’s a bit away from the crowd. He spreads out his towel, sits down, and pulls out a novel. Even if he’s not quite ready to swim, he can at least get some reading done.

He’s barely three pages into the book when his concentration is briefly shattered by a chorus of dismayed shouts from a crowd of children down the beach. Some itinerant entertainer has apparently decided to pack up for the afternoon. The children continue to protest and then disperse, in ones and twos and little clusters, and he can return his attention to the page.

At least, for a few more lines, at which point a shadow falls over the paragraph he’s reading and a man says, “Hey, this is an awfully big beach towel for one person, you mind sharing? I forgot to bring mine, would you believe it?”

Irritated, Kaoru opens his mouth to say something and then has to stop as he’s struck by two simultaneous realizations.

The first is, this man is speaking Japanese. Not that there aren’t other Japanese holidaymakers in Hawaii, on this beach even, but it’s still surprising.

The second is—he’s already looking up. He’s looking up, and the sun is in just the wrong place for this, and the hair’s the wrong shape, but the mouth is the same, broad and grinning, the eyes are the same, and he says, “Godai, I don’t believe for a second that you actually forgot to bring your towel, you’re the most prepared man I’ve ever met.”

“Well, yeah, you got me. But it’s all the way over there,” with a vague gesture down the beach, “and you’re over here. So obviously I’d rather be over here. Who finally managed to make you take a vacation?”

“Your sister, actually. I was in Tokyo on a difficult case and I showed up at the restaurant for lunch I think…eight days in a row? She scolded me because I apparently had bags under my eyes, and then she got everyone else to start bullying me too.” He’s not crying. It’s just how bright the sun is that’s a problem. “She was even the one who suggested Hawaii, did you…tell her you were here?”

“I mean, I might have mentioned I was heading here the last time I wrote, I don’t actually remember.” Godai sits down on the towel next to him. “You look great.”

“So do you, you’ve gotten very tan.” He’s not crying. “It’s good to see you.”

Godai just looks at him for a moment, and then shifts on the towel, turns his back, and lies down with his head on Kaoru’s leg, as comfortable as can be. Looking down at him like this, it’s easier to actually see his face, and then he looks up at Kaoru and says, “Good morning, Mr. Ichijo,” just like he did three years ago on a rooftop in Tokyo.

Kaoru stares down at him and is maybe crying a little, but he’d never admit it out loud, and says in return, “Good morning, Godai,” despite it being two in the afternoon.

The grin is blinding. “You can call me Yusuke, you know.”

“I know,” Kaoru says, voice hoarse, “but if I do then I’ll almost certainly cry, and I’d rather not do that with so many people around. Similarly, you can, ah.” A droplet of water falls on Godai’s face, and Godai very politely doesn’t acknowledge it. “You can call me Kaoru.”

“Kaoru. Ok. I’m sorry I’m interrupting your reading, by the way, but you mind if I get some shut-eye? I figure we can catch up later, but I had a really late night, I had to climb a tree. Actually, that’s not accurate, I had to climb…” some counting on fingers, “I think it was three trees? Maybe four.”

“You had to—you can tell me why later. Of course. Rest all you like.”

He half expects Yusuke to get up and head back to his own things, but the sunny, “Awesome, thanks,” is followed by him closing his eyes and promptly falling asleep with his head still in Kaoru’s lap.

After a moment of surprised blinking, Kaoru allows one hand to drift down to rest on Yusuke’s hair, and then goes back to reading.

---

one suitcase and half a plan

The rain is torrential, the wind is high, and Shouichi’s only halfway through the dishes when he hears knocking. He frowns. “Hey, Makoto? Were we expecting someone?”

Makoto leans into the kitchen, also frowning. “I mean, I wasn’t. You didn’t tell Ryou to stop by, did you? Or Mana or someone?”

“No, definitely not.”

More knocking.

“So we should probably see who that is, it’s pouring outside.”

The person on the doorstep is very young-looking, soaking wet, and visibly terrified, and Shouichi gets the door open as they’re raising their hand to knock a third time. They freeze, staring wide-eyed from inside the hood of their sweatshirt, and then say, very slowly, “Are you. Are you Tsugami Shouichi?”

Shouichi blinks. “Yeah, that’s me. Are you looking for a lost dog? I saw one come through the garden earlier but I couldn’t catch it.”

Damp head-shaking as lightning cracks over head. “I. Um. The lady, the lady at—Miss Okamura said come see you.”

A beat, some peering, and then, “Here, you’d better come inside. Hey, Makoto, get a couple of towels, please? And maybe some spare clothes or something? It looks like—what’s your name?”

“Harada Haruko.”

“Haruko is soaked.”

Fifteen minutes later, Haruko is sitting on their couch, practically swimming in some of Shouichi’s old clothes, wrapped in a blanket, and clutching a cup of tea in both hands. Shouichi sits down next to her and says, “You want to tell me what happened?”

She stares into her teacup. “A goose scared me and I yelled at it and it. It d. It died. And the lady at that French restaurant was outside when it happened and she saw and she said I should come see you.”

Makoto catches Shouichi’s eye over Haruko’s head and mouths, “She’s an Agito?”

Shouichi nods back and then says, to Haruko, “That’s my restaurant, Rina works for me. Has that sort of thing happened before?”

“I…I can move things with. With my mind. But don’t ask me to do it now, I can’t do it on purpose mostly except—”

“It’s ok, I believe you.”

She sniffles and takes a gulp of tea before choking out, “I never killed anything before.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it now.” He reaches out and pats her on the wrist comfortingly, and she lets out another watery sniff. “Most people don’t mean to hurt anyone, it’s just a bad thing that happens. Do you remember when it started happening? Being able to move things?”

“Um. I think. A year and a half ago?”

More than an hour later, Haruko’s drunk two more cups of tea and eaten all of the leftovers from dinner and finally gotten through her halting story, and her energy’s clearly starting to flag. Shouichi peers at her and then says, “Do you need me to call your par—”

She’s shrinking into the blanket and the oversized sweater before he even finishes the sentence, and Makoto says, from the doorway, “I already made up the spare room.”

Twenty minutes after that, she’s passed out asleep in the second bedroom, and Shouichi looks up at Makoto and says, “That was sweet of you.”

“I called the precinct while you two were talking, I think we can, ah, hold off on calling her parents indefinitely. And I finished the dishes.” Makoto glances back towards the closed door of the second bedroom. “I’m almost surprised she didn’t end up at Ryou’s.”

Shouichi sighs. “No, Ryou gets the ones who are scared of everyone else. I always get the ones who are scared of themselves.”

---

first chance

Shinji would live in this tea shop if the old lady would let him.

Honestly, the fact that she lets him set up his laptop in here once or twice a week is a miracle already. She’s not exactly the friendliest person. For some reason, though, she’s decided she likes him. Maybe because he helps with the dishes at the end of the day, and he does make sure to keep buying tea. Plus she always wants to hear about what he’s writing—today it’s an article about locals who say they have psychic powers, she’s going to eat it up.

The tall guy’s back again today too. They’re not always here at the same time, but Shinji can tell whenever he comes in, because of the way his stupid coat swishes when he comes through the door. Today he spends twenty minutes or so talking with the old lady up at the counter, quietly. She starts out looking annoyed, and Shinji almost gets worried, but then the look on her face softens and he relaxes a little bit. Then the swish swish swish again as the tall guy heads back out, with a pause at the door so he and Shinji can peer at each other suspiciously.

“I just don’t trust that guy, Mrs. Kanzaki,” he says as he’s washing plates at close. “Something about him seems off.”

She laughs, the little chuckle that always sounds unhappy to him even if she says otherwise. “Who, Akiyama? You’ll have to learn to get along with him eventually, Kido. You missed a spot.”

“Oh, I did, sorry—why’s that?”

“He wants to buy the place, and I think I’m going to sell it to him.”

“You’re. You’re going to what? Why? And wait, that guy wants to run a tea shop?”

“He’s nicer than you give him credit for.” She glances up at him sidelong. “Terrible personality, but what can you do? He reminds me a little of my late grandson. Anyway, I’m sure you haven’t noticed, but I’m getting old.”

Shinji blinks innocently. “Are you? I thought you were my age.”

She punches him in the arm, but very gently. “Don’t flatter me, Kido. I want to move somewhere warm, and Akiyama’s been moping around here ever since that girlfriend of his broke it off with him, he knows the whole place. He’s got the money and I like him. Don’t worry, I told him you’re a fixture. He’ll have to learn to get along with you too.”

He blushes. “That’s kind of you, Mrs. Kanzaki.”

She snorts. “I’m not kind, I’m selfish. I’m old and tired and lonely and I like having you around the place with those big dopey eyes of yours. Like a puppy, only you do dishes and you can reach higher shelves than I can.”

He sputters for a few moments before managing to speak again. “I’m a—well, I guess it’s good to know what you actually think of me.” A few moments of silence as he does more washing, and then, “I’ll miss you, Mrs. Kanzaki. But if you really want to sell this place to that guy…I guess I’ll have to keep coming by to make sure that he takes care of it right.”

She doesn’t quite smile. She never really smiles, not once since the first time he met her. Her eyes go soft, though, just a tiny bit, and she nods. “Good.”

"So what'd you say his name was? Akechi?"

"Akiyama." She squints up at him. "I'll tell you what, Kido, he's coming by again tomorrow to talk terms, you set up in your usual spot and I'll introduce you."

---

lazarus, we're coming back

Kaido takes his coffee black and visibly steaming, but with about five sugars, and Takumi's tongue is practically withering just from the smell of it. "How can you even drink that stuff?"

"Oh, because you've got such a sophisticated palate," with a raised eyebrow at Takumi's glass of fruit juice. "Coffee's good. Sometimes, if I drink enough of it, it almost feels like my brain is working. Used to go through gallons of it in school."

"That's probably not good for you."

"Whaddo I care? Actually, what do you care? We're both dead anyway. Speaking of which, uh," an awkward pause before, "how are you?"

Takumi shrugs, swallowing his mouthful of sandwich. "Pretty much the same. Squinting a lot. You?"

"I'm...the picture'a health, actually." Kaido frowns fleetingly.

"You're not having…" Takumi also frowns, gesturing vaguely at his own eyes, "problems?"

"Nope. Still living for free, too, I keep waiting for Smart Lady to stop by and kick me out but I think maybe she's not gonna."

"Maybe she likes you."

"With legs like that I kinda hope she does." Another one of those uncomfortable beats. "How's. Uh. How's Mari?"

Sip of juice. "Fine. Lonely." Another sip. "She misses Kusaka."

"She seriously misses that guy?"

"She misses what he meant to her. He was...he kind of, he kept her connected to when she was a kid? Like, yeah, he was a massive creep, and she gets that, but she doesn't have a lot of classmates left. There were never a lot of them anyway." Takumi stares at the tabletop. "Did I mention Mihara died? So it's just her and Rina, and Rina's busy with the orphanage all the time, and Mari misses having someone living with us who she was a kid with."

"Mihara? Delta? He died?"

"Stroke. Apparently the Delta Gear kind of puts a lot of strain on the body."

"Fuck, man, that's grim."

"What isn't?"

Silence, for a while. Takumi finishes his juice, goes up to the counter and buys a sandwich, eats it in slow, contemplative bites. Kaido continues to work his way through his enormous, oversweet coffee. People pass by on the street, come in and out of the bistro and take no notice of them. Just two guys, sharing a light lunch and thinking about death.

Then, finally, Kaido drinks the last sugary sludge of his coffee and says, "You got a dream yet?"

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What the hell kind of answer is--no, I don't fucking believe in--yeah. Ok. Yeah, maybe I believe in ghosts a little. Dead man walking, I oughtta maybe believe in ghosts."

"I've been dreaming about Kiba a lot lately." Takumi stares down at his half-eaten sandwich. "I think maybe he's haunting me."

Kaido doesn't answer for a moment, and then says, eyes narrowed, "You liked that guy a lot, didn't you."

"...yeah. Yeah, I did."

"I. Uh. I mean. If it's any consolation, I'm...pretty sure he liked you a lot too. But, but also you know that's not what I meant, asshole, you got a dream or anything?"

"Not really." Takumi shrugs, and then he smiles, just a little, staring off into the middle distance like he's seeing something--or someone--that Kaido can't. "I think that's the only dream I need."

---

they say it's darkest before the dawn

First he had to get money on his phone card, and then it took some work to find an actual pay phone, but at least there's no one else waiting to use it at this hour of the morning. Kazuma stares out at the foggy streets as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line, wondering if he should stay in Sweden a little longer after he takes care of this or if he should head somewhere else.

Click as the line picks up, and then, "Good morning, you've reached BOARD, office of the pres--"

"Mutsuki. It's me."

Pause. Clattering as Mutsuki definitely drops the phone and then scrambles to pick it back up. "Kenzaki?"

"Yeah." Kazuma grins at his own reflection, imagining the startled look on Mutsuki's face. "I'm in a phone booth in Sweden and it is incredibly foggy here, it's amazing. Is Tachibana free?"

"I, uh, he's on a conference call with D&P right now, but he'll get off that if he knows it's you."

"You know I don't like to interrupt him, but this is actually kind of important, can you go get him?"

"Uh, sure, can I put you on hold for a second?"

"Of course. Although, uh, first--" Kazuma swallows hard. "Is Hajime getting any better at basketball?"

A pause, and then an awkward laugh on the other end of the line. "He's improving, yeah. Still not as good as me, though. And Amane had a growth spurt, she's nearly at his shoulder now."

"Oh wow, that's a lot. Ok, sorry, thanks, could you go get Tachibana for me?"

"Sure thing."

A click as Mutsuki puts him on hold, and he spends a minute or two listening to BOARD's terrible hold music, and then another click and some scrambling and Tachibana's voice saying, nervously, "Kenzaki? Is that you?"

Kazuma grins again. "You sound so nervous about it, who else would be calling this number claiming to be me?"

"You'd be surprised, I was on the phone yesterday with a group called ZECT--never mind that, look, how, how are you?"

"I'm...doing well, you know, considering. Europe is nice. What about you?"

"I think I've nearly succeeded in repairing BOARD's reputation, we just established an archaeology scholarship fund with Jounan University. And I was over at Jacaranda recently, did Mutsuki tell you that Amane had a growth spurt?"

"He did, and that Hajime's getting better at basketball." Kazuma tries to smile, hoping that Tachibana can't hear his voice falter. "Anyway, um, you're probably wondering what's got me calling you from Sweden at two in the morning. I found something."

A sharp intake of breath before, "What kind of something?"

"A statue. It makes my skin itch whenever I go near it, and it looks like...it looks like him. Hajime. Or, you know, the other guy. It's...I spent about an hour just staring at it yesterday. And there's an inscription on the base that I can't read, but I think it has something to do with the Sealing Stone, I'm hoping BOARD might be able to arrange to get a look at it."

Another sharp breath, and then a long exhale. "What do you need from me right now so that we can make this happen?"

Kazuma shifts awkwardly, even though he knows that nobody else is out on the street right now to see him and the only person who might be listening in is Mutsuki. "Well, the statue's in a local museum, and mostly I need to know that I can give the director your name and contact information. And also I need some money so that I can take her out to dinner."

A beat, and then--Tachibana's laughing at him. "You need me to transfer you bribe money."

"It's not a bribe, it's a business dinner."

"That you're going to use to charm this museum director into shipping a piece of her collection to Japan on academically shaky grounds." Tachibana's still laughing. "And you're going to be very earnest about it and she's going to fall slightly in love with you, because you have that effect on people." Kazuma starts sputtering, but Tachibana just continues with, "I'll have Mutsuki transfer you some funds this afternoon. Let us know if you need more."

The tension goes out of Kazuma's shoulders, which is startling, because he hadn't realized that he was so tense. "Thanks, Tachibana."

"It's the least I can do. Ah, do you think you might find yourself in Austria any time soon? I'm going to be flying to Vienna in March for a conference, it would be nice to see you."

Another release of tension, enough that Kazuma finds himself smiling again. "I think I might be in Vienna in March, yeah."

"Wonderful. And, ah, Kenzaki?"

"Yes?"

"Send Hajime an email or something, would you?"

Now he actually laughs."I know, I'm the world's worst correspondent. I'll email him. I promise."

---

follow the words and sing along

"Does it hurt when I do this?"

Kyosuke opens his mouth, clearly intending to give an actual answer, and then cuts himself off abruptly with, "Ow, fuck."

"Ok, yeah, that's sprained." Asumu starts carefully unwrapping the bandage around Kyosuke's ankle, biting back laughter at Hibiki's expression and the sight of Kyosuke very obviously trying not to curse more. "I mean, I can't really confirm that without an X-ray, which I can't do because I'm, you know, nineteen and not even in pre-clinical studies yet, but I know how to handle a sprain just from hiker resc--ok, who wrapped this?"

Kyosuke's mouth sets at the corners, and Hibiki coughs awkwardly. "Kyosuke did it himself. Under my instruction, of course. We were--oh, that doesn't look good."

"Yeah, you can get that striped bruising when you don't wrap it correctly. Like, nothing's actually wrong, it just looks really nasty--come on, Kyosuke, don't make a face at me, it's really hard to wrap your own ankle. Especially when you've never done it before."

Kyosuke's scowl doesn't lessen even slightly, but he does at least have the good grace to blush. "It hurt a lot, it was hard to focus."

"Yeah, that's fair, sprains suck." Asumu reaches for the fresh roll of bandage on the table, grasps at air, and then nods in absent thanks as Hibiki passes it to him. "You actually did a really good job for a first time, like, I've seen people make their sprains way worse before, but this is gonna look gross for a few days." His hands are steady and sure as he begins wrapping the new bandage. "Mostly you need an ice pack and some Advil, but you'll have to take a couple of weeks off from hunting. So what were you guys doing? You said something about...mushrooms?"

Hibiki nods. "Yes, there's a particular mushroom that can be dried and powdered for use against one strain of Makamou, Kyosuke spotted a patch of them and took a tumble down a hill when he was--"

A soft knock on the door frame, and Tachibana Hinaka's stomach precedes her into the room. She's balancing a tray on it, in fact, very carefully, moving at a sort of stately trundle as she steps over the threshold. "I come bearing dango for the wounded warrior and his entourage. You'll have to reach up for it, though, I can't exactly bend."

At her Kyosuke smiles, nose going pink as he reaches up to take the tray from her hands. "Thank you, ma'am."

She grins at him. "You've gotten so polite, I love it. How's the doctoring going, Asumu?"

Asumu's fastening the bandage as he looks longingly at the plate of dango. "I mean, it's more first aid than--fine, it's going fine, how are the twins?"

"Taking up more space than I'd like." She pats her stomach. "I hope you're ready to deliver a couple of babies, I'm really sick of being pregnant. Kasumi's getting sick of it too, maybe you can deliver hers at the same time and the cousins will all have the same birthday."

Asumu turns bright red and mumbles, "I don't know how to deliver a baby, Ms. Hinaka." Kyosuke snorts. Hibiki covers his mouth with a hand and mutters something about not being mean to the boys, and Hinaka snickers and heads out of the room again, as slow and steady as before.

"So," Hibiki says once she's out of the room, "are you going to share those dango or what?"

Kyosuke freezes in the act of reaching for a stick. "Obviously, yeah."

"Wonderful, could you pass me a--thanks, fantastic." A pause, and then Hibiki leans forward and pokes him gently in the ribs with his free hand. "Also, you're backsliding, isn't there something you should be saying now?"

Kyosuke glances sidelong at Asumu, blushes again, and says, "Thank you for taking care of my ankle, Asumu," before passing him a stick of dango.

Asumu grins at him. "Any time."

Hibiki cranes his neck to examine Asumu's handiwork as he's sliding a dango off his stick. "That looks excellent, Asumu."

"Thanks!" Asumu flashes him a smile. "It's because I've trained."

Hibiki and Kyosuke both stare at him for a moment, and then Hibiki breaks into a broad grin and says, "All right, I deserved that," as Kyosuke stifles a burst of laughter.

---

even bad guys know good love

Sou is sitting on a park bench, eating a cup of instant noodles and staring out at the water, when he hears footsteps slow behind him. Slow, and then stop, and there's the prickle of eyes on the back of his neck. He listens, gauging and guessing, and then says, "I'm not a spectator sport, Tendou," and takes another bite of noodles.

A beat before Tendou says, "No, you aren't," and then another pause before, "May I sit with you?"

"Who's stopping you?"

He doesn't look up as Tendou sits, waiting until the man's settled before even glancing at him. Stylish and impeccably groomed as always, wearing a vivid blue scarf that he definitely didn't pick out himself, carrying a reusable jute bag filled with a tasteful selection of expensive groceries. He looks no older, no less poised and collected than he ever did.

"So was there something you wanted, or are you just stopping by to remind yourself of your place at the center of the universe?" Sou takes another bite of noodles. "I should probably remind you that historically I don't react very well to being laughed at."

Tendou stares out at the water. "I'm not here to laugh at you. I wasn't even looking for you."

"But here you are anyway."

"Here I am anyway." And--there's a flicker, a momentary disturbance of Tendou's statue-like serenity. "It has been pointed out to me that I owe you--"

"If you say you owe me an apology," Sou says, not looking at him, "I'm going to punch you in the stomach."

"Not an apology. A debt. For certain things which, when they occurred, I did not care enough to prevent."

"Hm." Beat. "So what'd Kagami do to put you up to this, promise you a treat if you came and made nice at me?"

Tendou makes a soft sound, not quite laughter. "No, actually, he said he'd never speak to me again if I made no attempt to reach out to you. I've learned over the years not to discount the power of his intent."

Sou has to hold back a laugh himself, imagining that conversation and very nearly able to hear the threat in Kagami's voice. "He's an interesting man."

"I often say that myself."

"So there was stuff you could've stopped if you'd given a shit. Why should you have cared? He never meant anything to you."

"No." Another glance shows Tendou staring out at the water still, fingers tightening on the handle of his grocery bag. "But he meant something to you, and to himself, and that should have been sufficient to deserve my care."

"You're wrong about one thing."

"Mm?"

Sou swallows a mouthful of cheap, salty broth. "He didn't mean anything to himself at the end there. But he did mean something to me." Another sip of broth, and the cup is empty; he crumples it and tosses it one-handed into a nearby wastebasket. "And I'm not interested in giving you absolution."

Tendou is silent, throat visibly working in the corner of Sou's vision, and then says, "That is entirely your right. Is there anything that I can--"

"You can buy me a decent lunch."

"I would be happy to make--"

"I don't want to eat anything you've cooked. Buy me lunch and then I don't ever want to see your fucking face again. That's what you can do for me."

"...name the place and I will buy you lunch."

They sit together in silence for a few minutes. The weather is beautiful, the wind is good, the water smells nice, and yet Sou feels like he's looking at it through black gauze, dimmed and indistinct. He hasn't spoken of Hell in some time, since he generally has no one he cares to speak to, but that gauze, that dimness of the world, that's Hell.

Tendou hasn't left yet.

"So what else is eating you? Hoping if you hang around me long enough you'll figure out how to get your win back?"

There's a pause, and an uncomfortable shifting next to him. "My sister will not eat my mapo tofu. She says that yours was the best she's ever had."

That, somehow, makes Sou crack the very smallest of smiles. "Good. I'm not giving you my recipe."

A barely perceptible sigh of disappointment. "I would not expect you to."

---

i'll go with you

"Airi said she'd have dinner with me on Saturday."

Ryotaro blinks, processing this, and feels himself start to smile. "Hey, that's great! Where do you think you'll take her?"

“We had a really good conversation,” Yuuto says, which isn’t an answer. “Do you ever feel weird about the fact that your whole life’s already kind of planned out for you?”

“…what do you mean?”

“You know. The whole…fate thing. I mean. We know my daughter. We met your grandson.”

It takes a moment for Ryotaro to figure out what he’s asking, and then the impact of the thought is nearly enough to make him rock on his heels. Not that he hasn’t considered it before, but it’s so much every time, knowing how much apparently depends on him living his life in exactly the right sequence. Lives hang in that balance, people who may never have the chance to live if he makes the wrong choices, says the wrong things, meets the wrong girl or no girl at all—

Yuuto says, “Yeah, that’s kind of how I feel about it too.” He takes a sip of his coffee, and he does make a face, but he’s clearly making an effort. “I’m not sure I’m the guy that I’m supposed to be, you know? I hardly even know that guy.”

Ryotaro nods. “I know what you mean. People keep telling us who we’re going to be, and it’s not as if they’re just making decisions for us, they know.”

“They know and we don’t.”

“Yeah.”

Another sip of coffee, another wrinkle of the nose, and Yuuto looks older than he did. Not in a bad way, just—aged, not stuck in time. Maybe some of that’s just the way his face works, that he looked so young for so long, but he’s actually starting to seem like an adult. Maybe Airi’s seeing that?

Still, though, he doesn’t look anything like Ryotaro…remembers him looking. Inasmuch as he can remember it at all. Or talk the way Ryotaro remembers him talking. The other him, that is. The other him seems like a different person.

He’s met plenty of people from all over time, now. He’s not sure if he could handle meeting himself.

“Hey, don’t space out, I’m having an existential crisis here.”

Ryotaro jumps. “Right, yeah, the crisis, sorry. I was just, I was thinking about—”

“No, not that crisis, this is a new one, I think I’m starting to like black coffee.” Yuuto stares at his cup. “Next I’m going to start liking shiitakes and Deneb’s going to cry. Hey, look, we’re figuring this out together, right? I don’t just have to work this whole future thing out myself? You’ve also got stuff that you’ve gotta do and nobody’s telling you how to actually do it.”

“Of course.” Impulsively, Ryotaro reaches across the table and grabs Yuuto’s free hand. “We’re family…somehow, right? What’s the point if we don’t have each other’s backs?”

---

taste so sweet it hurts a little

When did the house get so crowded?

Wataru’s lived here for his entire life, and he can’t once remember the house being crowded. He can, when he thinks back, remember the occasional visitor when he was very young, indistinct adults who generally spoke to him little if at all. For most of his life, though, it’s just been Kivat and business visitors—someone from the bank if he needed to draw funds, sometimes delivery people before he was old enough to take things in himself, tutors whose origins he’d always been unclear on.

Then, a few years ago, he’d agreed to take a student, and there’d been Shizuka, and he’d had to speak to her face-to-face without hiding behind the door. And then Megumi, talking to him whether he liked it or not. And now—

Now, tonight, the house is crowded. With Shizuka and her mother, Shizuka playing violin in the living room as her mother sings along in a slightly out-of-practice but still sweet mezzo soprano. With Megumi, who is newly pregnant and twitchy and irritable, and Nago, who is handling Megumi’s pregnancy by looking perpetually dazed. With Taiga, and Taiga’s absolutely terrifying girlfriend Erika, who works for a business acquaintance of his and who ate more at dinner than anyone else while still maintaining an incomprehensible rapid-fire conversation about cosmetics with Megumi. With Maya, who is presiding regally over the gathering, looking pleased with herself.

The house is crowded, and Wataru is hiding in the kitchen.

Well, he’s not…he’s not hiding.He’s just taking a breather.

There’s a faint scratching sound, and then Kivat drifts down from his violin-case nest and says, “Hey, Wataru, aren’t you backsliding a little? Shouldn’t you be out there with everyone instead of hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding.” Wataru takes a deep breath. “There are just…a lot of people in the house right now.”

“I’d noticed. I want to ask your brother’s girlfriend what happens at Kougami Foundation that she needs to carry a small semi-automatic in her purse."

"Kivat. Don't go through her things."

Kivat loop-de-loops in the air. "How else am I supposed to keep an eye on you?"

"Anyway, it's just, I'll go back out in a minute, but it's. It's really crowded."

He stands over the sink and inhales deeply, breathing in a whiff of varnish from a semi-successful experiment that had nevertheless mostly gone down the garbage disposal. The familiar stink helps to steady his nerves, and to steady them further he starts going through the recipe in his head. Tweak the liquor content, maybe. Using imported bourbon might be a little extravagant, but he's got a good feeling about the color tone he could get—

Someone knocks on the door frame. "Can I come in, or do you need another minute?"

He straightens up. "It's fine, I'm fine now. Come in."

Taiga grins at him, stepping over the threshold from hallway to kitchen with his hands in his pockets and taking a deep breath in, as if he, too, wants to savor the bite of varnish underlying all of the lingering cooking smells. "Too crowded for you?"

Wataru nods. "Still not used to having people in my house."

"Seems fair enough, it's only been a couple of years, you had it to yourself your whole life before that. Mother was asking where you'd gone."

"Which means she wanted you to come get me."

"Pretty much, yeah. Megu's decided she wants to play some kind of game, and once you come back in we'll have an even number of people for teams."

“Oh, good, Megumi wants to play a party game.” Wataru glances at his brother sidelong, feeling himself start to smile again. “You don’t suppose it’s too much to hope for one of our kids from the future to show up with some kind of emergency?”

Taiga grins at him. “Not really likely, no. But we can hope.”

---

last dance

Daiki is teaching Yuusuke how to dance.

They’ve pushed everything out of the way in the studio and put up an old backdrop that Natsumi found, a heavy canvas on which flaking paint depicts a grand European ballroom detailed in scarlet and gold. “It was for some goofy rich couple’s wedding pictures, some actor and his girlfriend,” she’d said as they pulled it out of the storage, “they had a big themed wedding and got this painted specially and then they left it with us and we never used it again.”

Now she’s leaning against the wall and tapping time with her foot and watching as Daiki and Yuusuke spin very slowly around the room, and Daiki’s saying, “Just follow my feet. We’re both doing the same thing, the only difference is I’m moving backwards.”

Yuusuke nods, following Daiki through a turn. “So how do you know how to do this?”

“Oh, you know. I learned it in school.” Daiki’s voice is deceptively light. “Social dance promotes social harmony, and it’s terribly important to promote social harmony.”

Tsukasa, next to Natsumi, raises an eyebrow. “And they taught you how to follow, specifically? Instead of lead?”

Daiki’s mouth twitches, and when he replies this time the lightness is more genuine. “Well, as a rule that was sort of the curriculum, but no, in school I was always paired off with some girl or other and I’d lead. You taught me to dance the other part.”

“…I did? This isn’t you messing with me?”

Another careful turn, and Yuusuke flashes a grin up at Daiki as their movements begin to smooth out. Daiki doesn’t quite grin back, just smiles his frustratingly catlike smile and completely fails to answer Tsukasa’s question.

Tsukasa shifts uncomfortably, and Natsumi glances at him and then reaches over to grab his hand. “Dance with me.”

“You know how?”

“Yeah, that same couple who had that backdrop made had me and Grandma come out to do pictures on their wedding day and the groom’s little sister taught me how. I was twelve or something, but I’m pretty sure I remember what to do.” She tugs him away from the wall. “Come on.”

He may not remember the steps, but apparently his feet do, and that’s enough to make everything work. They don’t collide with Daiki and Yuusuke, either, at least until they do, and then it’s less of a collision and more a change of partners, so that now Daiki is dancing with Tsukasa and Natsumi is dancing with Yuusuke. A few more turns around the room, and then another half-collision, and Daiki and Natsumi are now dancing together quite comfortably while Tsukasa and Yuusuke trip over their own and each other’s feet trying to figure out who’s going to lead. The conclusion is, in the end, neither of them, as they finally fall down and narrowly miss bringing down the backdrop with them.

Daiki and Natsumi stare down at them for a moment and then sit down on the floor at well, trying and failing to conceal laughter.

“I can’t be perfect all the time,” Tsukasa says, with as much dignity as possible.

Daiki grins at him. “I wasn’t going to comment. Maybe it’s time to break for lunch, anyway, we’ve been at this for a couple of hours now.”

Natsumi and Yuusuke make agreeing noises, and Tsukasa glances over at the backdrop hanging motionless on its roller and says, “We might as well take our time with things. We’re not going anywhere today.”

27 notes · View notes