#HAPPY ODAIBA MEMORIAL DAY MY FRIENDS

[protosaru]

Sometimes, I use digimon for self reflection. This line I carefully picked means so much to me. Gabumon X, Leomon X and Weregarurumon X are my friends and I love them.

Happy odaiba memorial day.

#digimon #odaiba memorial day #odaiba day #gabumon #leomon #gabumon x #leomon x #weregarurumon #weregarurumon x #fanart #digital art

[missingmywing]

So as per usual for me and fics, this will be long. Ryomina is fun and has a lot to play with. (Ao3 link)

Day 1: First Meeting/Childhood Friends

I’m playing fast and loose with canon and the actual lore behind Nyx, because as much as I like FFVII I don’t want to just write Jenova 2.0. So my lore is that she is a being of the collective unconscious like the other “gods” in Persona, she’s just much, much more powerful because death is an inescapable, tangible thing that happens rather than an intangible concept.

Also Erebus isn’t… a thing. I understand and respect what the team was going for with how they did Nyx and Erebus with The Answer, but it makes things more convoluted than necessary for my preferences. Humanity’s despair and wish for death doesn’t need a tangible form - Nyx can sense it directly and her radar lights up red when she’s called for directly (thanks Kandori, thanks Kirijo) and that’s what makes her active. Minato’s seal acts like a buffer or a muffler - an interference so she can’t hear herself being called (unless it’s particularly direct). Because you can’t kill death - and even if you could you shouldn’t because unconditional immortality is a very bad idea- and I’m getting off track. Point is I’m making P3 consistent with the lore of the rest of the series rather than “it was aliens, actually”. P2 subverted that, P3 can’t just turn around and play it straight while hiding it under a mountain of conditional lore.

Also exploring Minato as a freshly traumatized child is a fascinating exercise. Newly nihilistic six year old has not realized he’s nihilistic yet because everyone is still assuming the apathy towards everything is a normal trauma response. He and Death have such an interesting dynamic as they both learn.

FINDING OUT HALFWAY THROUGH THIS THAT IT WAS APPARENTLY RECENTLY CONFIRMED THAT TATSUMI PORT ISLAND IS SUPPOSED TO BE BASICALLY ODAIBA WAS INFURIATING. What do you MEAN Gekkoukan is in Tokyo, no it is not I’ve had the hc that Minato spent his junior high years in Tokyo for YEARS do not do this to me Persona. Anyway, I moved it so that I can keep my hcs the same, it’s still in the same general area it’s just outside of Tokyo Bay rather than inside it now. I was so tempted to keep the long-standing guess the fandom has had and put Tatsumi Island in Kobe you have NO IDEA. Fucking Odaiba man. Maruki says hello Nyx.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

In one world, they wouldn’t have met or known each other until Minato was sixteen. Minato would have been not-so-blissfully ignorant of the truth of the events that happened that night of the explosion. Nothing but vague memories of a bright light and broken cars and fire all around.

But in another, Minato remembered.

Unbuckling his seatbelt to look at the ocean far below, the explosion that threw him out of the car, his mother’s teary pleading for him to live, the collision of a robot and monster on the bridge that threw everything else back, the flashes of a chaotic fight, the guilt and devastation in the robot girl’s eyes as she pressed the blue fire containing the monster to his chest and apologized for turning him into its seal-

That was technically the first time he met Death.

But it wasn’t until a month later that they met properly, face to face, and Minato could acknowledge him directly.

It had been… a rough month. The aftermath of the accident had destroyed and consumed his life - left him thrown about from hospital to police station to a different and more elaborate and creepy hospital where he stayed for nearly two weeks while people in lab coats ran tests and poked at the new giant scar on his chest and men in suits tried to get in contact with a family member they could force to willing to take him, and then he was given to his aunt and uncle who weren’t expecting to suddenly have a child to take care of and were upset and scrambling to adjust. And they weren’t cruel or dismissive but he knew they weren’t happy to have him here suddenly and his aunt was devastated about her sister’s death and their smiles were so fake and he couldn’t even cry which made them uneasy and more upset and-

Minato had heard the words “trauma reaction” and “emotional suppression” more in the past month than his entire short life beforehand and he wished he could understand what that even meant but it felt like everything was a blur and just floating past his head.

He knew there was something wrong with him, though. That had been obvious at his parent’s funeral where he didn’t even feel anything and couldn’t bring himself to react or say anything to the parade of people coming over to talk to him.

The doctors who they kept trying to make him talk to acted like it was normal. His aunt and uncle acted like he was broken. Everyone else acted like he was a ghost.

He was pretty sure the ghost comparison was the one that was closest. He had a monster inside of him now, after all. The same monster who was probably responsible for his parents dying and midnight turning weird.

But maybe he was a little broken too because of it. Because he didn’t hate that monster even knowing all that. He didn’t really even miss his parents even though he’d always loved them so much before. He didn’t… care. About anything.

And he wasn’t scared, on the full moon a month after the accident, when the midnight hour hit and there was a sharp, tearing pain in his chest, and the monster appeared in a blaze of blue fire. It hovered over his bed like the evil creature from every scary bedtime story and stared down at him with its chain and torn brown cloak and a sword in its hand.

It looked evil but it didn’t feel evil. He’d always been good at telling what people around him felt - a gentle soul with an empathetic heart his mother had called him - and the monster felt… empty. Empty like he always felt now. There wasn’t any anger or hate like he’d expected from a monster.

He sat up and looked at it blankly, waiting for it to do something. Try to kill him like it had been trying to kill the robot, maybe. When it didn’t do anything he tilted his head and asked, “What’s your name?”

Might as well know what monster he was supposed to be “sealing”.

The creature stared down at him for a moment of silence, then spoke in a raspy, echoing voice - like two pieces of metal screeching against each other in the undertones. “I am Death.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess that’s why you killed people.” He frowned. “If you’re trapped inside of me then are people going to stop dying then?”

“No,” the monster said. “I embody the concept but I am not its entirety. I am merely the harbinger for she who calls the end.”

“What do you mean? What’s a harbinger?”

“An omen. I am a sign that the end has come - that humanity has forsaken its will to live and wishes for the world to end. I am the call to the goddess of death, Nyx, to bring death to all.”

“But that’s… not true. Most people don’t want to die. You can’t say that humans don’t want to live when most people do,” Minato tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know anyone who really wants to die. It’s usually an accident, or because someone else did it on purpose.”

“My very existence is proof that humanity has succumbed to despair and wishes for death. Your sole experiences are meaningless.”

Minato stared at him for a long moment then shrugged. “You’re wrong, but okay. Are you going to kill me, then? I think the robot girl made it so you can’t leave, that’s why she sealed you inside me.”

Death was silent for a moment, then said “My very essence has been sealed within you, bound and entwined to your soul. Your death would mean an end to my existence as well, vanishing into the Sea of Souls alongside you, unable to accomplish my goal.”

“So… no?”

“No. So long as the seal is intact I am incapable of killing you.”

“Okay, so you can’t leave and you can’t kill me. I’m going to sleep then.” Minato fell back and tugged the covers back up, rolling onto his side so his back was turned to the mon- to Death. “Night.”

The Shadow stared incredulously at him for several long minutes until his breath evened out and it became apparent that he truly was asleep.

It seemed the Anti-Shadow Unit had indeed known what she was doing to best undermine him. He was truly and solidly trapped.

… time would tell how this would play out, he supposed. After all, time came for all in the end and death was the most patient of mistresses. Nyx would wait.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Minato quickly got used to Death showing up. First once a month on the full moon, then as time went on he began showing up in his dreams, and then speaking into his head while conscious outside the extra midnight hour.

It was almost surprising how quickly Minato got used to him - by the time a year had passed Death had become a normal presence in his life. Not a comforting presence, perhaps, but normal. The Shadow, as Minato now knew he was, still disbelieved Minato when he said that humanity really didn’t seem to be calling to Nyx. He remained adamant that it was simply Minato’s small range of existence that hid the truth.

And maybe that was true - maybe the small city he lived in didn’t show how many people were wish for the end. But if there were actually that many surely he would have met at least a few here.

Death did slowly become more curious about the day to day lives of people as time passed though, asking questions first during meetings in his dreams and then directly in his head once he’d figured out how to break through the seal enough to do so.

Minato probably should have been more worried that he was doing that, but most emotions were muted and distant these days so he just learned to ignored the burn and stinging pain in his chest that indicated Death taking an active interest in something going on. Sometimes it was a history lesson or science assignment, sometimes it was a conversation with a classmate or an overheard argument between adults.

He gained an active presence in Minato’s head just in time for the christmas season, actually, so Minato got very used to tuning out the pain of it very quickly because Death seemed fascinated and bewildered by… just about everything about the holiday. Things Minato had taken for granted were now subject to question and he had to ask about quite a few of them himself.

Granted he and Death both realized pretty quickly that the adults around them were simplifying explanations to make him understand it, because Death asked a lot more complicated and confusing questions about humans and traditions and… something about transferral of religion? Things Minato didn’t understand and couldn’t figure out how to ask about because he wasn’t sure what Death was actually asking.

What did someone dying for everyone else a long time ago have to do with christmas trees?

Once Minato asked Death that question in return the Shadow seemed to realize that Minato didn’t understand a lot about what he was trying to figure out and returned to asking more simplified questions.

Some of them still went over Minato’s head - why did it matter about the weird necklace the student helping at the shrine was wearing? The shrines never decorated for christmas, everyone knew that - but at least he could answer why the teenage boy was sneaking the bracelet he’d bought into his pocket so the girl with him wouldn’t see it.

The true shift in their relationship happened around the year mark of the accident.

Death could still only manifest physically on the full moon, but he did so each month without fail. Perhaps to ensure that he still could. But this time was… different.

Because when he did Minato felt something like satisfaction or triumph flicker through his chest as the Shadow appeared - and the fire vanished to reveal a boy the same age as Minato. He looked similar, but had darker and shorter hair, and his eyes were a bright blue. He was also wearing a striped prisoner outfit like out of a movie, but that was obvious enough why.

He looked down, examining himself, and nodded in satisfaction. “It worked.”

Minato tilted his head at him. “You were trying to turn yourself into a human?”

“I’m still not actually human, I’m merely taking this form. But yes. I thought it might better help me understand humans if I could imitate their form. So I tried to copy yours. It’s not exact, but I suppose that’s the influence of my inherent nature.” He hopped up onto the bed beside Minato. “If nothing else, it should be less disorienting to speak with me during this hour in this form.”

He wasn’t disorienting to talk to in his other form either, but he seemed unusually pleased with himself about this so Minato didn’t see a reason to contradict him. “I won’t have to look up at you anymore, I guess.”

“Exactly. I still know that humanity is calling out for the end, but it is strange how much attachment to life the people around you have in general.” The Shadow turned cocked his head with a thoughtful look. “If I imitate and understand humans, perhaps I can understand why that is.”

Minato really didn’t see what was hard to understand about people generally not wanting to die, but he supposed it was a fault of Death being a Shadow. And, well, Death.

“If you want,” he shrugged. “I don’t see what’s so hard to understand about it, but if it’ll help you understand then I think it’s fine.” Death still hadn’t shown any indication that he was about to break out of the seal, after all, so he couldn’t muster any real worry about it.

Not that he’d probably be able to stop him if he did, but… well, the robot girl had entrusted Death to him when she failed so the least he could do was make the attempt.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

He wasn’t quite sure when he’d crossed the line in the minds of adults around him from “recovering from the accident” to “creepy”. But he began noticing it over time as one year crept towards two towards three and his aunt and uncle - rather than adjusting and becoming comfortable in his presence - went from uncertain to uneasy around him.

At first they’d looked at him like they weren’t sure what to do with him, like he was one wrong word from breaking down crying. But now they looked at him like they thought something was wrong with him - like they didn’t want to figure out what to do with him.

He blamed Death, honestly. The Shadow was rubbing off on him as much as he was on the Shadow.

The whispers behind his back that they thought he wasn’t listening to - unnatural, too quiet, emotionless, never cries, never throws a tantrum, never gets happy or upset, doesn’t have friends, looks right through you - definitely made it sound like there was something wrong with him.

He didn’t really feel wrong. He just didn’t feel strong emotions - was more tired than anything a lot of the time.

But maybe that was the proof that something was wrong, because he remembered feeling more strongly about things, remembered feeling excited or scared or sad or happy so strongly he thought it’d overwhelm him. His parents had gently chastised him more than once about an excessive reaction to something.

So maybe they were right and there was something wrong with him. That “something wrong” just happened to be the personification of Death sealed in his chest, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Not… that he really minded. He liked having Death in his mind, asking questions and making him wonder about the world around him in ways he wouldn’t have otherwise. He liked being able to guess what the people around him were thinking and feeling based on their expressions and body language. And it came in handy on tests when he couldn’t remember the answer to something and Death was willing to remind him.

It just meant that Death stayed his only friend because everyone around him found his presence off-putting and unnerving. Even his teachers didn’t really like him if they spent any time outside of class with him. And his aunt and uncle only became more distant and unnerved as the years passed and he didn’t become more open or how he had been before the accident.

So it wasn’t really a surprise when he turned ten and they told him that he’d be moving in with a cousin. Their excuse was that they were trying for a child, and didn’t want to divide their attention between two children who both needed it so he’d be sent to someone who could continue to devote attention to him.

It would have been a lot more convincing if they had been devoting attention to him rather than avoiding him or becoming very strained when they did interact with him.

Minato… didn’t really care, he’d been expecting it, but there was a keen edge of resentment from Death at both the lie and the disregard.

(There was something else there in the undertones that Minato couldn’t quite read. A bitter, sharp edge of emotion that Death tried to hide from him, and Minato didn’t ask. If Death wanted him to know then he would tell him.)

There had been no expectations on Minato’s behalf on his way to Inagawa in Hyōgo - it was a relatively small town comparatively, fairly rural, and he knew nothing about the cousin taking him in. He wondered how they’d been convinced.

The town was… nice enough. Surrounded by mountainous area, forest on all sides, lakes and rice patties in the distance…

Altogether different than the cities he’d grown up in.

His cousin, as it turned out, was a middle-aged no-nonsense man clearly far more focused on whatever his career was than any sort of familial relationship. Given how quickly the man had gruffly brushed through introductions and a tour of the apartment - relatively small and sparsely decorated, the man clearly spent almost no time here - and essentially told him he was on his own and to stay out of trouble, Minato assumed he’d been promised that Minato was low-effort and he’d be able to effectively ignore him.

Which wasn’t inaccurate so he couldn’t complain too much.

(Death seemed to take it the wrong way and got very annoyed, though, which was almost funny.)

It did mean that he had to learn to cook. He got an allowance, enough to cover any food he needed, but unless he wanted to live off of prepackaged food he did need to learn the basics at least.

… although after his terrible start of burned rice and an uneven omelette the man did at least teach him those basics, so he clearly wasn’t entirely uncaring. Or he just didn’t want to risk a fire.

Death was relieved about that, though he did seem to derive some amusement from Minato’s inept attempts at learning to cook. Not that he was any help. Any number of historical or philosophical questions he’d be more than happy to lecture about, but anything practical and he was useless.

It wasn’t a bad two years. Just as lonely, but not bad. Less side-eyes and unease at least.

His cousin was very rarely home, and when he was he was usually working on either paperwork or a laptop. The man didn’t seem to care about friends or social circles, or at least not enough to invite anyone over, and he and Minato largely ignored each other when they were home at the same time. He didn’t ask about Minato’s grades or social interactions either, which his aunt and uncle had still done, which made it harder to really care about them either.

Minato continued to be off-putting to everyone around him, it seemed, but he still wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing to drive them away and make the kids call him scary and the teachers murmur that he was unnerving. It wasn’t just lack of emotional reactions, he didn’t think, because there were a couple of other kids that were like that and they were called “cool” and “admirable”.

But something about him made people shy away and refuse to meet his eyes.

Maybe it was the same thing that made animals nervous around him.

The same thing that made the other Shadows leave him alone during the midnight hour, even though they would attack anyone else able to move around. That ability didn’t seem to happen here, at least - he never encountered anyone else out the few times he wandered around town in the green light.

Which was more than he could say of the city he had lived in - after the first time he’d been out and encountered both a person and the Shadows around, and his presence had whipped the Shadows into a frenzy and made them more aggressive than usual towards any one else around, he’d avoided going out during that hour.

Death made them more dangerous, and Minato didn’t want to be responsible for anyone dying.

But it wasn’t a problem here, and there was something fascinating about walking around an empty town covered in blood and coffins beneath a green moon. It was eerie.

It made him feel the most alive that he had been since the accident.

Still, it was just one more thing that set him apart from everyone around him and he continued to spend most of his time alone. Often with a book. And while animals were more nervous around him than other people they did warm up to him relatively quickly once assured he wouldn’t hurt them. Once he realized that it wasn’t quite as lonely, and he became a friendly face to several of the strays around.

And Death was always there. He never really left anymore, and the pain of his presence had long since vanished. Minato chose not to think about what that meant for the seal. He was a friend, always at Minato’s side, and the years passed had made his comments about being the harbinger existing only to usher in humanity’s death fade into only the occasional thoughtful consideration about one situation or another. His absolute certainty that humanity at large wished for death had diminished significantly in the face of so much constant drive forward from everyone around Minato. Instead, he seemed to be searching for what humans did want - what it was that drove each one forwards to the future, each person chasing after their own goals in life.

Minato certainly didn’t have the answer, and people didn’t like him enough to be willing to tell him, so they contented themselves watching and listening and speculating.

So the two years he spent in Inagawa were peaceful enough, with various animals and Death (both in his mind and in child form) keeping him company.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

And then that peace was summarily shattered when his cousin announced that he was getting engaged and moving in with his fiancee to Osaka, and Minato would be moving in with another relative, a different cousin, in Tokyo.

When it happened Minato felt nothing more than a twinge of disappointment. He’d hoped to keep this peace for a while longer before his presence became a nuisance again.

Death was significantly more displeased, irritated that Minato’s cousin was displacing him rather than adapting around him, concerned about being sent to Tokyo - and there was that something more to that thought that Minato was sensing from him more and more often these days - and handed off to another relative they knew nothing about, a frustration on Minato’s behalf that they’d long since acknowledged he probably couldn’t feel. But there was nothing they could do about it, so Minato packed his few belongings again and was gone.

Had they known what was waiting for them - had he realized the abrupt downward spiral his life was about to take - perhaps he would have mustered the care to ask to stay.

But they had no way to know.

The first sign that something was… off… was on the way to the address he’d been given. Shinjuku had residential areas, of course - nice ones, even. But the address didn’t lead him to a nice one. It was a ragged, run-down area, with dirty alleyways and narrowed glances sent out covered windows.

The fact that it was just outside Kabukicho didn’t help.

It set him on-edge despite himself, and for the first time in years Death pushed against the seal hard enough for it to burn.

“It’s not the midnight hour, not for a couple more hours,” he thought to the Shadow, watching a group of shady looking men muttering in an alleyway from the corner of his eye. “Even if you broke through the seal you couldn’t manifest.”

“It’s possible that I could,” the Shadow shot back. “We’ve never attempted it.”

“We’ve never seen any Shadows out in the daylight, only during the midnight hour,” Minato pointed out, taking a step to the side as a ragged cat hissed at him from under a dumpster.

“I’m not a normal Shadow.”

Minato didn’t respond.

They didn’t know what would happen if Death broke fully through the seal, but it probably wouldn’t be anything good. So Minato would just have to try and avoid being put into a position where it was necessary.

Easier said than done as he quickly found out. His… aunt? cousin? he wasn’t quite sure and she didn’t clarify so whatever- apparently worked in Kabukicho as supposedly a hostess, and had only agreed to take him in because she was hoping he would be a second source of income. Which, given the kinds of places in this area that would be willing to hire a junior high student, did not bode well for his likelihood for staying out of danger.

Death was irritated on his behalf, but it wasn’t as though they could really do anything about it. Any authority figures would just turn a blind eye - that became apparent the moment he arrived at school and met his homeroom teacher, and then the rest of the teachers were no better - and she hadn’t done anything to him yet so he couldn’t use anything against her.

She’d just made it clear that if he wanted to eat he’d bring home enough money to make it worth feeding him.

So he quietly asked around. Several of the other students in his class also had jobs, though whether it was for a similar reason he didn’t know and didn’t bother asking, so he had a few options. Not many, and none of them particularly appealing, but unless he wanted to either starve to death or learn to steal he’d just have to accept it.

Minato settled on the job that seemed like the least effort and one of the ones less likely to be directly tied to any potential host club scams or yakuza operations.

Washing dishes at the back of a host club wasn’t exactly fun, but it avoided the risk of being caught by any police or getting caught up in any drug trafficking. And the midnight hour meant he could grab an hour long nap in the middle so… it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. His sleep and grades both suffered for it, but no one was expecting him to have good grades anyway and none of the teachers cared to check why it was happening, so… he supposed it was convenient.

It was… fine.

It was fine. It was tolerable, no matter how frustrated Death got, and he could deal with the constant smell of cigarettes and alcohol all around him, could wrinkle his nose and turn away to his book or homework when she came back smelling of alcohol and sex, could tune out the chatter and flirtations from the room over at the club, could ignore the rumbled clothes and bruises peeking out on skin from the hosts and hostesses around the area.

Minato kept his head down, didn’t talk to anyone unless he had to, and no one really approached him. People in Tokyo - or at least this district of it - didn’t seem as bothered by whatever off-putting aura that had always scared everyone else, but they weren’t really inclined to bother with him either. Which suited him just fine.

Months passed easily enough, his cousin (as he eventually did find out) was satisfied for a while with the money that he did bring home and seemed happy enough that he wasn’t going to bother her or get in her way that she didn’t really bug him either unless she wanted one chore or another done while she was out.

She did kick him out a few nights a month to bring men home - though whether they were clients or boyfriends he didn’t know or care - but those were passed studying or doing homework in a cafe nearby that didn’t mind some kids in his situation hanging around all night provided they bought something every now and then. It wasn’t uncommon to see a few others around, sometimes he even studied with a couple of classmates or helped an elementary schooler out with their homework (except one who rebuffed him with a flash of red eyes and a snap that he could handle it himself), but largely he remained in his corner and tried to ignore the rest of the world as Death muttered and complained in his head.

He was equally pouty in his child form on those nights he joined Minato during the midnight hour, perching on the edge of his futon and casting annoyed glances across the room at his cousin on the other futon. Minato rolled his eyes and ignored him, until he flopped backwards and sprawled across Minato in a way that clearly demanded attention and Minato just patted his head and let him keep complaining about the people and world around them.

Minato hadn’t been expecting a christmas gift from her, but she seemed to be in a particularly good mood around that time so he didn’t question it. He supposed she’d caught the eye of a particularly affluent client or something because she suddenly had new clothes and jewelry. Plus decent takeout rather than Big Bang Burger or some other fast food chain.

But on christmas morning she cheerfully handed him a wrapped box with a comment that he’d earned something for his efforts this past year, and when he opened it with a quiet thank you he found an mp3 player and pair of headphones inside. It was the first present he’d gotten in years and quickly turned into the best he’d ever gotten.

It was something to drown out the tedium of the world, to filter out all the static and noise of the world around him into a steady, predictable, stable beat. Whenever it got too much he could simply put the headphones on and turn on the mp3 player and everything would fade away. A lifeline.

A necessary one, because things rapidly got worse after that. The giddiness that had clung to her throughout December began fading rapidly throughout February and into March. She got defensive and quiet, snappish, almost always on her phone, scrolling away as though looking for something. Biting her lip until it nearly bled - an unusual habit for someone so careful with her appearance.

It all came to a head around mid-April, just after the new school year had started, in the afternoon before Minato left for work. He was sitting at the low table, working on homework, when she suddenly made a snarling sound and started a phone call.

He quickly put on his headphones and turned on his music, tuning out whatever angry argument she was picking over the phone. It wasn’t his business, it wasn’t his problem.

It quickly became something near his problem when a bottle shattered against the wall dividing the kitchenette less than a meter away from his head and his gaze snapped up to find her glaring in his direction with eyes blazing and lips pulled into a snarl. Minato froze, unmoving even as Death reared up protectively in his soul and the seal burned beneath the weight of his presence. But a few moments passed of her glaring, chest heaving, before her mouth began moving again as she yelled something and he took note of her glassy eyes and distant gaze and he relaxed as she jerked her gaze away from him to continue shouting. She hadn’t been looking at him or aiming at him, he’d just been in an unfortunate direction. Death reluctantly faded back, but didn’t pull away entirely just yet.

He watched her shake her head desperately and fall to her knees on the floor as tears began streaming down her face and her other hand reached up to clutch at the desk of empty beer bottles she hadn’t gotten around to throwing out yet.

Or just throwing yet, apparently.

With a soft sigh Minato closed his workbook and leaned over to begin picking up the glass shards before one of them stepped on them. The bottle had at least been empty, so they wouldn’t have to deal with stains on the wood floor. The star of Sapporo sat wholly intact, almost mockingly, as he collected the glass in his hand.

By the time he’d finished picking up the glass and throwing it away, it seemed the call had ended and she was staring unseeing at the wall as tears streamed down her face. Minato stared at her for a moment before going back into the kitchen to fill a glass with water and pick up a cloth.

He knelt to set the water down in front of her and held out the cloth.

It took her a few moments to reach for it, but she did. She buried her face in it and sobbed.

Minato shrugged and returned to his spot at the table to continue his homework.

Things did not improve from there.

She became… unstable, switching between listless and desperate in the span of hours. If she was home without a client she was either drunk or drugged, and she either ignored him entirely or demanded he help out more. He quickly became the only one doing chores - if only to avoid being yelled at or risk having something thrown again - and after several months of her unable to bring home as much money as was satisfying to her he became the target of her ire for how little he was also bring back.

Comparatively, anyway.

He ignored it for several months hoping she’d get over whatever rich guy had gotten bored of her and leave him alone again, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t likely. It was only a matter of time before she began making threats again, and at Death’s urging Minato began considering his options.

A second part time job wasn’t particularly feasible given how much time the one he already had was taking. He could avoid being at the apartment as much as possible, but he still had to sleep sometime and the last thing he wanted was for her to decide she needed to hunt him down. He could use the midnight hour to shoplift, but that wouldn’t necessarily satisfy her if she wanted actual yen to use.

Well, he could try to start breaking into registers he supposed, but he didn’t know if he wanted to start dealing with the risks of that. Just because there weren’t people or camera didn’t mean there wouldn’t be evidence and just because Kabukicho had an underbelly didn’t mean it was actually illegal. He didn’t need the police to track him down using dna evidence or something. Besides, he had to set the standard somewhere.

He could take a different risk and get a more lucrative job elsewhere he supposed (Death didn’t like that option). He refused to work at the front-facing side of a club, but one of his classmates had talked about a package sorting job that paid well and was looking for a couple more people.

Minato had avoided it before - like most of his classmates did - because he didn’t really want to deal with drug smuggling. But it was a significantly higher pay, and his classmate had assured him that he’d been working there for three years and it really was just organizing packages into the correct address delivery bins. It really was just an ordinary job.

(So long as he didn’t open anything went unspoken.)

So with a heavy sigh and Death stewing angrily in the back of his soul, Minato followed his classmate to get recommended for the job. He was hired instantly, given a brief tour of the small warehouse, given an overview of how to organize the packages properly, warned not to open any of the packages for any reason, and then pointed at a stack that needed to go out the next morning.

The job wasn’t as bad as they’d both been concerned about. It really did seem like a normal sorting job. And it paid well.

None of which put Death at ease as he hovered almost painfully close to the seal constantly these days. It was getting to the point that Minato could almost feel the seal slowly dissolving as the nigh-painful tingling of it rapidly faded and Death came closer and closer to the forefront of his mind as the weeks passed.

Minato didn’t bother fighting him on it - the Shadow would worry regardless and if he did manage to break through the seal and manifest at least Minato wouldn’t have to deal with a fight himself.

(When had the worry of the consequences of the seal breaking faded? He could barely remember the robot girl who had sealed the Shadow inside him now, even if the guilt and grief in her eyes still haunted his dreams anytime he inhaled a lungful of smoke from somewhere. What did he care about the world? If Death broke free and destroyed it - well it wouldn’t be his problem for long.)

The uptick in money satisfied his cousin for the time being at least, so she went back to mostly ignoring him in favor of whatever poison she’d chosen for the day. He spent more time in the cafe than the apartment just for the smell alone, even when she hadn’t brought someone back.

The world faded more and more into the grey of exhausted numbness from there. An endless routine - get up, silently get ready for school, go to school, try not to sleep through his classes, leave for work, work until the daily quota was filled, go to the cafe to study until the midnight hour, leave once the hour was up and the cafe closed, return to the apartment and sleep, then get up again.

It was easy to lose track of the days when he didn’t talk to anyone and spent most of his time drowning out the world with his music. The date on the board and subjects of the lessons were really the only ties to reality that he had between the monochromatic repetition of everything else. The sudden uptick of pressure in the middle of the year to study hard and improve their grades in order to do well on high school entrance exams and get into a good school was a sudden shock to them all, and it did a little to break things up.

But even that quickly dulled back into routine - it was all just memorizing dates and facts and kanji and equations, and with Death in his head to help he wasn’t likely to do badly even if he didn’t bother trying.

Though even if he got accepted there was no guarantee he’d be able to attend. Given his cousin’s increasingly empty eyes and unstable attitude and inability to maintain her grip on money he highly doubted she’d be willing or able to pay for him to attend. Which was one more thing for Death to become angry over, but Minato didn’t really care much.

Even if he did attend, what then? It was just a continued routine. How likely was it that he’d make it to graduation and find somewhere decent to work?

Really, what was the point of it all?

Not that Death let him get away with that. As Minato had less and less motivation or will to bother even trying with anything, Death pushed harder and harder to make him. Pushing him to study, to do well on tests, to remember to eat lunch or dinner even if he continued to skip breakfast. Nudging him to stop by and try that restaurant, or get that soda from the machine with a weird name.

He was less enthused by Minato’s willingness to accept the can of Asahi beer from some of his classmates during one of their study sessions on the roof, but the taste alone meant that Minato wasn’t in any hurry to try it again. Not to mention the way it made the numb disassociation from the world even worse.

The sensation of a near-complete break from reality didn’t quite scare Minato, but it did unnerve him and the alarm it raised from Death only made it worse. So that wouldn’t be any sort of habit he would fall into.

Unlike some people he had to clean up after.

The high school issue was resolved when he got within the top ten marks in the school and was offered a scholarship to the closest high school. It was not what everyone had meant when they talked about a “good” high school, but anything was better than nothing so with a bit of prodding from Death he accepted.

Not that it really changed anything - other than the location, it was simply exchanging one routine for another and he quickly sank back into the grey numbness.

Nothing really broke through it for a while. He was distantly aware of his cousin getting paler and thinner, the desperation towards something rising, until a bit before summer she stumbled into the apartment and cornered him against the wall.

“I need you to get money,” she said, gripping his arm tightly.

Minato tilted his head, feeling Death rearing up close to the seal warily. “How much?”

“A million yen.”

“A million yen?” Death repeated incredulously.

Minato sent her a blank look. “That’s impossible.” How in the world could she possibly expect him to be able to get that much?

“What?” she asked dangerously, leaning close. “Do you even realize the situation we’re in?!”

“No. You never told me.”

Her face twisted into an expression of such frustration he thought she was about to start screaming. She didn’t, instead snapping, “That damn club is demanding a million yen from me for ‘services rendered’ - which is bullshit they’re a shitty club anyway - but now I have to pay it or my reputation and ability to get clients is ruined!”

That club? Had she- “How does a hostess fall for a host club scam?”

“I did not get scammed!” She shoved him against the wall and spun around to storm towards the desk against the opposite wall. “Just get the money.”

He considered for a moment. “No.”

Everything froze, before she slowly turned to stare at him with a darkness brewing in her eyes. “What?”

Minato stared at her blankly. “No. I told you that’s impossible. You got scammed, deal with it yourself. It’s not my problem.” He wasn’t going to get any homework done here. Picking up his bag, he turned to leave.

“Now wait just a damn minute you brat-”

He turned to look at her as she lunged for him and felt the seal burn, stretched so thin it was on the verge of snapping as Death lunged back with his presence, and she stumbled to a stop as the blood drained from her face. Minato waited for a moment before leaving.

He’d have to hope she wouldn’t retaliate.

Apparently Death had scared her enough in that moment to avoid him entirely, because she would barely even look at him other than the occasional glare if they happened to be home at the same time. So he tuned her out as well, putting his headphones on and ignoring her.

Trying to ignore the fact that she was looking more sick and exhausted by the month. It wasn’t like he could do anything about her irresponsibility - he was already giving her the money he was making, and unless he wanted to get actively involved with the yakuza he wasn’t going magically get a job that payed more.

Maybe if she stopped spending her money on ways to forget the problem she’d be able to deal with the issue. Minato had already caved and started shoplifting food during the midnight hour when she stopped bringing groceries home.

Death was getting more worried and frustrated as time passed, and was curling up next to Minato in human form nearly every night for the midnight hour. Sometimes they talked, but most of the time they just leaned against each other to derive what comfort they could. Death clung to him like he was afraid he was going to disappear, which was funny given that of the two of them Death was the one only tangible for an hour.

Death and the mp3 player were really Minato’s only lifelines by this point.

He probably should have been paying more attention. Should have accounted for human vulnerability and desperation and realized what she would end up turning to. Though he really didn’t know what he could have done about it even if he had known - she wouldn’t have listened to him if he told her not to anyway.

December was cold.

It always was, but it somehow felt colder standing in the back alleys a few blocks from Kabukicho’s streets under a flickering street light with a dozen men from a local street gang staring down Minato and his cousin. That explained why she’d rushed in and grabbed him, told him to come with her and hurry and be quiet.

What had she expected to happen if she ran from her debt after borrowing money?

At least it wasn’t the yakuza, he guessed, but this wasn’t really much better. She was shaking with terror next to him, tears welling in her eyes.

“P-Please-” she stuttered, “Give me a little more time! I’m working on it, I promise, we both are, so-”

“It’s been over six months, the hell much more time do ya need?” The man in front snapped, pulling his jacket back to rest his hand on his gun. “I don’t appreciate games, girlie, we got our own expenses. You said you’d have it paid back by now, and I’m holdin’ ya to your word.”

“I-I’m trying,” she protested, hugging herself. “I swear I am, I thought I’d have it by now but the club across the street keeps bribing people to help them steal our business! I’m doing everything I can, if I can get another couple of months-”

“That’s what you said three months ago!” Another one snarled, pulling out his own gun to aim at them. “We’re not gonna keep buying into the lies of a drug-addicted whore!”

“N-No, please-”

What was Minato supposed to do here? There were a dozen of them with guns, and even with Death straining as hard as he could against the seal - to the point where Minato could barely stand from the pain and was very sure that it was about to shatter completely - there wasn’t anything he could do outside the midnight hour. An aura of death didn’t do much good when the men were both used to death and very much armed.

Could he buy time? Even if he did, there wouldn’t be anywhere for them to run. He didn’t think he could defuse the situation when they were this angry over broken promises. He wasn’t going to make stupid promises he couldn’t keep either.

Minato didn’t really care about dying. If he died here… it was fine. He didn’t care. But Death did, and Death was one of the only things that Minato could bring himself to care about anymore, so he should at least put some effort into not dying. And he didn’t really want her to die either. She wasn’t exactly good, he didn’t really like her and she’d made too many mistakes, but that didn’t mean she deserved to die for it.

Not that deserving it had ever saved anyone.

Minato sighed. “Is killing us really going to solve anything?”

The man in front narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t like being lied to, brat.”

“Not saying you should. But she is still paying you back, even if it’s not as quickly as she promised.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If you kill us you can’t get any money from us. I’m not defending her, just pointing it out.”

“You offering to take her place?” One of the men in the back sneered.

Minato sent them a flat look. “I’m already giving her all the money I make, so I kind of already have.”

There were snorts and scoffs from several of them and the man in front smirked. “Sounds like you’re not in the right business then, boy. How about I cut you a deal - I’ll get you a job that you can pay us back in no time, and we’ll let you both walk away from this alive. Do a good enough job and we’ll even let you keep the extra.”

Well that wasn’t an obvious hook or anything. It was probably some sort of smuggling, and they needed someone as unsuspicious as possible to the police. He wasn’t really interested in getting dragged into that because people who got involved rarely left, but they didn’t really have many options either.

“Stall them until midnight and we’ll have plenty of options,” Death growled, clawing at the seal. “I hoped I’d be able to break out before then, but it’s more difficult than I anticipated.”

Ah. Killing them during the midnight hour was probably the easiest solution to the problem, yeah. Almost everyone turned into coffins, so letting Death break through the seal and then dealing with them one by one would be simple enough.

So Minato tilted his head at them. “What kind of job? I need details before I promise anything.”

“Do you really have room to negotiate here?” the man asked, pulling his own gun out and flipping the safety. Minato’s cousin gasped, stepping behind him and grabbing his arm.

Minato shrugged. “Not negotiating. Just making sure I can actually keep my promise before I make it.” He flicked a glance down at his mp3 player - ten minutes to midnight. He could keep them talking for ten minutes.

“Well I guess you’re smarter than that girl hiding behind you then. You don’t really get much of a choice in this if you want to live, though.”

That was assuming quite a bit that he cared about living, but whatever. “So? What do you want me to do?”

The man scoffed. “Well you’ve got spine and an attitude, I’ll give you that. It’s simple - we get packages goin’ to and comin’ from all sorts of places around Tokyo. You’ll be our little delivery boy. Nice, simple, and easy, yeah?”

Minato didn’t bother reacting. “Drugs or weapons? That will change how it needs to be handled.”

A nasty grin broke out across his face. “Oho, got ourself a bold one here, huh? Not even a flinch. Keep that attitude and you might do just fine. Bit o’ column A, bit o’ column B. Depends on the day, and our buyer or seller.”

Helpful. “That’s not much to go off of if you want me to start planning how to get them past the police. I didn’t grow up in Tokyo so I’m not as familiar with it’s blind spots as a native would be.” He wasn’t going to look at his mp3 player, he wasn’t going to try to count the minutes passing. Midnight would get here when it got here.

“Heh, I applaud the initiative but we won’t just leave ya flailin’ around blindly. We’ll pair you off with a couple of our other runners to start, let them teach you the ropes. We ain’t heartless, kid, just don’t like bein’ lied to.”

“Not heartless, merely willing to blackmail teenagers into smuggling illegal items for you,” Death hissed. “Be ready, Minato. It’s going to hurt when I break through the seal.”

“It always does. I’ll be fine; I’m used to it,” Minato thought back, watching the gang mutter amongst themselves. “So you say. I suppose if I get caught I’ll be left to fend for myself?”

The man shrugged lightly. “We gotta take care of ourselves first. Consider it motivation not to get caught, yeah?”

He’d figured.

“No. No, not again, not like this.” The smallest whisper came from behind him, and he had a moment of confusion followed by an unexpected bolt of dread as his cousin suddenly straightened with teary eyes and stepped out from behind him.

“Don’t-” he began- but she didn’t listen.

Why? Why did she choose now to grow a conscience?

“Enough! He’s got nothing to do with this - I’ll clear the debt myself, I promise! There’s no reason to drag him into this even more and I won’t let you-!”

A shot rang out. It echoed around the empty alleyway and rang loudly in his ears. Pain burned burned burned more fiercely than it ever had before in his chest and he was frozen, eyes wide as his breath struggled to come. He almost expected to feel blood on his chest, wished that he could feel blood on his chest, but it wasn’t him who’d been shot.

She let out a shuddering little choked gasp, and Minato turned to see her reaching up to clutch at the wound with wide, horrified eyes. He couldn’t- he couldn’t breathe as she staggered and fell- blood pooling around her as the light above them flickered-

-fire flickered and flashed off the metal, shimmering in the pooling blood, and he saw his mother burned and broken as she smiled hopelessly at him and begged him to live as she and his father and his twin sister wouldn’t and- he couldn’t move- couldn’t help- he was completely helpless-

The men jeering and bickering lightly was distant in his ears as the world faded into a distant grey and the pain burned and the world suddenly shuddered and shifted around them as the moon flashed green-

-and the men’s laughter turned into something startled and alarmed but he could barely hear them and he wasn’t listening-

-and a scream of pain suddenly echoed and bounced off the alleyway as the ground rose up to meet him and his knees hit the blood-covered pavement and his chest felt like it tore itself open and another more monstrous scream joined his own and he distant heard the gang’s voices rise as well-

The blood on his chest and staining his shirt was his own from where the seal had been torn open and Death emerged. The blood on his hands and on his knees were hers. Hers where she was lying on her front surrounded by the pool of her own blood, and he struggled to balance as he leaned forward and rolled her over onto her back. She was still just barely breathing, eyes glazed and distant through her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring up at the green-tinged moon. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry Minoru-kun, I messed up again. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want this. Please forgive me, please I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to, I wanted to live and go see Paris and New York and London like we promised we would-” she choked and coughed, blood streaking her lips as her hand shakingly reached up. Minato reached out and took it, holding it between his as she struggled to breathe. “Please help me. Please don’t let me die, I have so many more things I want to do.” Tears streaked down her face to mix with the blood. “Please, Minoru-kun I’m not ready to follow you yet…”

Minato just distantly watched her and held her hand as she slowly went still and cold and even the echoing screams of the gang members eventually stopped. Everything felt distant and painful and he couldn’t bring himself to move even once Death returned to his side with bloody swords.

He wondered if he was supposed to cry here. If he was supposed to feel grief and loss the way everyone had said he should for his parents and sister. If he was supposed to feel anything beyond the disconnected exhaustion and pain of the shattered seal.

“What am I supposed to do?” he wondered aloud, staring down at his cousin’s body blankly.

A soft sigh came from above him, and suddenly Death had discarded his swords and knelt down to wrap his arms around Minato. “I think we both know that normal rules do not apply to you.” A pause, and his grip tightened. “I am sorry for that. It is my presence that has stolen pieces of your humanity and suppressed your emotions.”

Well they hadn’t talked about it, but it made sense.

Minato let go of her hand and twisted around to lean against Death. “Maybe. I don’t blame you for it though.”

“… I know. Perhaps it would be easier if you did.”

“I doubt it. I waste enough energy on just staying alive. Hating you or the robot on top of it just sounds exhausting.”

Death let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “I would say that I don’t understand you, but I unfortunately do after spending nearly ten years in your soul.”

Minato hummed tiredly, closing his eyes and trying to tune out the pain still stinging his chest and blood still seeping through his shirt. “Whatever consequences it may have,” he said quietly, “I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t have wanted to go through this without you.” His lifeline. One of the two things that kept him sane and grounded in the static haze of this life.

The Shadow let out a shuddering breath and hugged him tighter. “I am glad that my presence has brought you something other than pain, at least.”

“Death, you’ve been my best friend for most of my life now. I’ve been with you longer than I’ve been without you.” He reached up rest a hand on his shoulder. “You should know by now that you’ve given me plenty more than pain.”

Death went still for a long, long moment, and Minato waited for him to process and accept that before responding. When he did, he caught Minato off-guard. “I suppose I can’t deny that. But… Death is not accurate for who I am anymore. For whatever I may have given you, you’ve given me far, far more.” Minato blinked his eyes opened and craned his neck to look up at him. “I am Thanatos - and you have given me so much of yourself, shared so much of your soul with me even beyond the nature of the seal, that I have become a Persona.”

“A Persona?” There was psychology terminology in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite remember through the exhaustion of the night’s events.

“An aspect or manifestation of your soul. It’s-” he paused, amending, “-likely a bit too complex to explain in your current state. In normal cases a Shadow is the parts of yourself you deny, a Persona is the part of yourself you accept and project unto yourself. I’m a special case, for obvious reasons. Consider me an extension of your soul who wants to protect you, for now.”

“That’s what you’ve been for years,” Minato muttered, closing his eyes again. “So even thought the seal is broken now, you’re staying?”

“Yes. I’m not leaving you alone. I’ll remain at your side for as long as I can.”

“Saying it like that makes it sound like you’ll leave eventually.”

Dea-Thanatos was silent for a moment, and Minato felt his bone chin brush his head. “… eventually I may have no choice, and I’m sorry for that. If I had my way I would remain by your side forever.”

“But?”

“But I have a feeling the events from nine years ago are going to come back and haunt us soon. Death was separated into many parts that were scattered, and I was sealed within you. If those parts are rejoined, Death will come again and usher in Nyx. I will have no choice.”

“We can’t just prevent the pieces from being rejoined?”

“I doubt it. Nyx, even incomplete, is the source of the midnight hour and the Shadows. So long as we exist, so to will they and so too will the Shadows. I suspect things will come to a head very soon.”

“And we’ll be in the center of it,” Minato sighed, tipping his head against him. “Okay. I still want you to stay with me. As long as you can.” He wasn’t sure what his life would be like without Thanatos, but given how much the Shadow had been a constant companion and push forward he doubted it would be better.

“I will. You should sleep - my breaking through the seal exhausted you thoroughly. I’ll keep watch and prevent any Shadows from coming near until the hour is over. From there, though…”

“Someone will see the bodies and call the police,” Minato murmured as he finally began giving in to sleep. “Since I’m injured too I probably won’t get in trouble.” Hopefully. Whatever Thanatos had done to the gang members, it definitely wasn’t something he could be blamed for.

“Then rest - you’ll need it.”

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Minato woke up in the hospital a week later.

It was incredibly disorienting to experience - the neutral tones of the room, the beeping of the monitor, the IV in his arm, the fuzziness in his head - but Death- Thanatos- rose up to press against the back of his mind with a familiar reassuring coolness that helped chase away the worst of the confusion.

As long as he was still here, it was fine.

It took several long minutes of just thinking and reorienting himself to remember what had happened. While he didn’t feel the grief or pain everyone seemed to expect from these things, there was at least a twinge of regret that things had turned out as they had.

But what was done was done - there was nothing he could do about it. No one could change the past. Time moved forward regardless of wishes.

So he move forward with it. When the police questioned him what had happened he was mostly honest - until the events of the midnight hour happened when he feigned confusion. His cousin had been shot by the gang, and yeah he looked like he’d been stabbed but he was pretty sure it had been from behind, and he had no idea what happened to the gang because he’d passed out after being stabbed with a knife.

He was pretty sure the police came to the conclusion that his cousin had been involved with a yakuza or something, but she clearly hadn’t told him anything about her job so he somehow wasn’t held responsible for any of her actions and was simply handed off to his uncle - a high ranking and very wealthy businessman also in Tokyo - although in the Shimbashi district instead of Shinjuku.

Sure. Whatever.

His uncle was… distant, at best. Much like his other cousin had been, the man was busy with his work and wasn’t interested in interacting with him beyond the necessities. That was more than fine with Minato - it was nice to be invisible and self-sufficient without expectation again. He even got an allowance without needing to get a job again. It was a minor relief he hadn’t expected to feel, but it was there.

He still went to the same high school for the final three months but his uncle explained that he’d be leaving for an overseas business trip around March so Minato would be transferring to a different high school with dorms for the next year.

Minato was incredulous for… several reasons. The fact that his uncle was going out of his way to ensure he’d be… safe? successful? not left completely alone? for the year was surprising enough. The fact that it was an incredibly expensive private high school was even more so.

At least until he was told the name.

Iwatodai High School, on Tatsumi Port Island just outside Tokyo Bay.

It sent Thanatos on immediate high alert, and Minato understood a few moments later. The Moonlight Bridge leading to the island was where his parents had died and Death had been sealed inside him.

The the island itself was where everything began.

Thanatos had been right - the events of nine, nearly ten, years past were coming back to haunt them.

He didn’t show any of the realizations on his face, but he had a feeling that this wasn’t a coincidence. The man gained custody of him and immediately went on a business trip oversees and sent him to the island where this had all begun nearly ten years ago?

Especially now that Thanatos had broken through the seal.

His uncle may not know anything about what had happened, but someone did and this was no coincidence.

And so, come April, Minato left Tokyo proper and got on the train heading to Tatsumi Port Island for the year. Even with his headphones on and music blaring in his ears it couldn’t quite drown out the world around him this time. The buzzing beneath his skin from Thanatos was agitating, stirring up his own feelings of apprehension.

Whatever was waiting for them - scientists and laboratories and Shadows and Personas and at the end of it all the personification of death itself, and maybe, just maybe, a robot girl who had looked at him with such sorrow ten years past - most of it probably wouldn’t be good.

He probably wouldn’t even survive it.

But at the very least, he thought as he stepped from the station and into the coffin-strewn street to the dorms, he wouldn’t be alone through it. Thanatos would stay with him.

Although getting to the dorms and finding him smiling cheerfully behind the check-in desk with a quip that he was here awfully late made him suspect that the Shadow- Persona, would likely be stepping up his obnoxiousness and pushiness towards socializing and trying things.

… the contract was unexpected, but Thanatos likely had his reasons - even if he was pointedly keeping them to himself for the moment - so Minato just sighed and signed the book. As he handed it over he asked, “Are you planning to tell me what that’s about?”

Thanatos just smiled enigmatically at him, folding the contract close to his chest as though it was something precious. “All in due time, my dear Minato. All questions will be answered and all secrets revealed soon enough.” He closed his eyes thoughtfully for a moment. “No one can escape time. It delivers all equally to the same end.” He focused back on Minato and the fold vanished with a twist of his wrist. “You can’t plug your ears or cover your eyes to escape.”

The lights of the dorm began fading around them, shadows creeping up the walls and across the floor, and Thanatos smiled and reached out to Minato as they wrapped around him.

“And so it begins.”

And then he was gone, returning back to Minato’s soul with something mischievous about him that Minato didn’t feel like figuring out, and Minato was left standing along in the dark entranceway.

No one could escape the end. He’d known that.

They both knew that whatever happened in this place, during this year, would be an ending of sorts. It was just a matter of what kind of end. He placed a hand on his chest, where the scar from the seal still lay. But whatever it was - they couldn’t escape it. They knew that.

So they would just have to take what happened as it was, no matter what it brought.

He was at the beginning of the end.

“Who’s there?!”

~ ᙙᙖ ~

This was fun! It was also twice as long as it was supposed to be, but such is my curse with writing these days. The Ryomina was more implied than explicitly stated, admittedly, but I got caught up in the childhood friends part of it.

Also blink and you miss it Akechi cameo lol

#ryominaweek2023 #ryomina #persona 3 #ryoji mochizuki #minato arisato #makoto yuki #I had a lot of fun writing this #heavy on headcanons but it's fic #I'd apologize for the extreme length but I'm not sorry actually #I've given up fighting my nature

[citrus-cactus]

I always get ridiculously sentimental on August 1, and this year is no exception. SO MANY EMOTIONS SO MUCH LOVE!!! for a series that is more than 20 years old at this point.

I have actually been thinking a lot about something that @rockthistowninsideout said today:

"The older I get the more my love for Digimon is less rooted in the franchise (though I still adore it of course) but in the fandom."

I really, REALLY resonated with that!! Not because I don't still love the franchise-- of course I do!-- but I think what has made this love last as long as it has is really down to all the people I've been so fortunate to meet and interact with along the way. From those old Oekaki BBS boards (the first art I ever published on the Internet!) to webrings, mailing lists, LiveJournal communities, fanfic, fanart, gift exchanges, celebration events, con panels, Discord groups, zines, in-jokes, memes, schemes (both realized and unrealized), brainstorming, and good old-fashioned all-caps flailing... the passion and devotion to this franchise is real, and it's something I have seemingly endless fond memories of at this point in my life. I almost wish I could take all our collective memories and put them in a book to create a history of the English-speaking Digimon community, just to document how awesome we are for future generations XD

Anyway, I've been drawing Tai for my entire active time in the fandom, so here are some of my favorites from 2001-2021. I actually don't think I've drawn him this year (please don’t revoke my fangirl card!), so you only get 20 years of him instead of 21 ^^; But I love that big-haired kid, and I'm pretty sure I always will.

Happy Odaiba Memorial Day 2022 to all my dear Digimon friends out there, past, present, and future. You are, and have always been, what makes this fandom feel like home <3

#odaiba memorial day #odaiba memorial day 2022 #the cactus speaks #digimon adventure #taichi yagami #my art #fandom history

[bokuaosubs]

I’m 13-years-old Kinoshita Ai. (Kinoshita Ai 1st blog)

Hello everyone! It’s nice meeting you.

I’m Kinoshita Ai from Boku ga Mitakatta Aozora.

Thank you for taking a look and wanting to read my blog.

Given how today is my first blog, I’m going to briefly introduce myself.

The official profile is…

Birthdate: the 19th of August, 2009 Place of birth: Tokyo, Japan Blood type: O Height: 152 cm Personal colour: Brevet Winter

I’m the tiny youngling in BokuAo, and maybe because of my age (13-years-old), the members treat me like a total baby.

Every one of the members is so cute.

I’ll become cute [just like them] too, and one day, maybe I’ll look back fondly to these times lol

However, all the members seriously are really kind and funny, and even on their days off, they send me videos and photos of their faces!

I love you all so much! Gimme a hug! (ぎゅ[う]) ♡

My hobby is visiting museums and art galleries, although I go by myself on my days off (which can get a bit lonely).

I particularly like Ueno [district in Tokyo with a rich culture] and Odaiba [a popular shopping and entertainment district in Tokyo Bay] where there are many such facilities.

Ueno is famous for its zoo, but there are also many cultural facilities, ranging from art galleries to museums, from science museums to the International Library of Children’s Literature.

Every time I visit these places, I discover something new, so I want to go there again and again.

Somehow, when I visit such facilities, I feel like I’ve been to places that make me feel more relaxed… or…. like they’re my power spot of sorts!

Now I want to invite a member to go with me!

Would anyone be willing to come?

I often go to Odaiba with my friends.

It’s certainly a fun place to visit again and again. There are segways as well as skating facilities, you can enter the English Experience Village, you can visit the National Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation and even Fuji TV.

During this summer holiday, I want to go to Odaiba Adventure King with my friends again and eat the ice cream we usually have together~

There, I want to hear BokuAo’s ‘Aozora ni Tsuite Kangaeru’, the theme song of the Odaiba Adventure King 2023 Summer Splash, many times、、

And Odaiba is also a place of great memories, as it is the location where our unveiling took place.

I will tell you about what happened at the time of the audition in my blog someday.

Overall, I think there are still lots of fun spots in Tokyo.

I really want to visit places that I’ve never been to, with both my friends and the members, so if you have any recommendations, please let me know!!

Oh, by the way, have you been able to read the August 2023 issue of B.L.T.?

There’s lots of detailed information about me, so if you haven’t read it just yet, please take a look.

I also got to see an unexpected side of the members, and I’ve read it all at once.

I truly recommend it.

I am surrounded by really, really kind people and I very much enjoy being a member of BokuAo.

All in all, I want to make my loved ones happy, all while maintaining a sense of gratitude!

To all of the fans, all of the members, staff-san, friends and everyone involved, I’ll be in your care!

As long as I’m BokuAo’s Ai, I won’t lose to anyone, but once I start talking, I quickly go on for too long, so that’ll be it for today.

I would like to communicate various things from now on, so I hope you will keep taking a look at my blog, SNS and will continue lending me your support.

I look forward to meeting each and every one of you one day.

Please continue supporting Boku ga Mitakatta Aozora.

Thank you for reading all the way to the end.

[TL by: yuzuiro]

#blogs #1st blog #kinoshita ai #tl by yuzuiro

[yunaangelhikari]

Hey hey so happy Odaiba Memorial Day. I still need to finish my Cosplay Line up for Animagic 🤣 but first grill and chill with my friends to celebrate the birthday of Switzerland. Character: Taichi Yagami Anime: Digimon 02 Picture: @asaliachan Edit: me #digimoncosplayer #digimoncosplay #digimon #Cosplay #digimontricosplay #digimontri #tri #adventuretri #digimonadventuretri #akinomatsuri #taichiyagami #Tai #Yagami #taichicosplay #taichiyagamicosplay #taicosplay #digitalbutterflycosplay #cosplay #cosplayer #taikamiya #cosplays #cosplaying #cosplayers #cosplayersofinstagram #germancosplayer #anime #animecosplay #animecosplayer #digimon #taichiyagami #taichicosplay #digimonadventure #digimontricosplay #digimontri #digimon02 https://www.instagram.com/p/CgtbSP-rLz6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#digimoncosplayer #digimoncosplay #digimon #cosplay #digimontricosplay #digimontri #tri #adventuretri #digimonadventuretri #akinomatsuri #taichiyagami #tai #yagami #taichicosplay #taichiyagamicosplay #taicosplay #digitalbutterflycosplay #cosplayer #taikamiya #cosplays #cosplaying #cosplayers #cosplayersofinstagram #germancosplayer #anime #animecosplay #animecosplayer #digimonadventure #digimon02

[artkaninchenbau]

You know what day it—  Haru?! [Commissions] [Patreon] [RedBubble]

#My art #Digimon #DigiDoodles #DigiSafe #Appmon #A friend inspired me to draw Appmon for Odaiba Day instead of Adventure and so here we are lmao #This was stupid fun for me to draw like I was smiling and cracking up the entire time #This fun this was so fun you guys #Happy Odaiba Memorial Day y'all (it's August in here already I am not early at all)

[digitalworldbound]

day two: holidays

i dedicate my day two to @ri-ships-takari . this is not my best work by any means, but i am very proud of it. it's for you, during this week dedicated to your otp.

summary: Tanabata, or “Star Festival”, celebrates the meeting of the deities Orihime and Hikoboshi (represented by the stars Vega and Altair respectively). According to legend, the Milky Way separates these lovers, and they are allowed to meet only once a year on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month

Twenty-three crept up on her, alone in her apartment in the earliest hours of morning. Birthdays had often gone without an affair, but with adulthood breathing down her neck, the sunrise seemed to mock her.

Her balcony overlooked the city she had never quite grown out of. Her friends had been able to spread their wings, pushing themselves against the expanding horizon. Hikari’s comfort lied in the familiarity of the streets and the whispers of memories that followed her.

Taichi’s text messages sat in her inbox; his birthday wishes were obligatory. Takeru’s, however, were not. Between shrugging on her work slacks and scarfing down a lone piece of toast, she allowed herself to consider his offer: Happy Birthday, Hikari. Tanabata festival tonight?

Odaiba was a small island, and Hikari reveled in the way she could walk to work. The fresh air cleared away the cobwebs of sleep and gave her mind space to think. It had been a while since she had seen Takeru, or any of their other friends for that matter.

They had fallen out of sync. Time zones no longer matched up, ambitions driving them further away from one another. It was the natural progression of things, but Hikari couldn’t remember a birthday being so bland.

The Tanabata festival emphasized the star-crossed lovers of Orihime and Hikoboshi, a pair doomed to meeting only once a year. No matter how strong their love, no matter how strong their devotion, there were some distances even they couldn’t cross. It was difficult to not see the similarities; when was the last time she had seen Takeru of her own volition? Her stomach fluttered, a feeling she swallowed down with a cup a coffee.

She was a grown woman. Her apartment was leased in her name; she had a big-girl job. Hikari had come so far, and yet, her heart ached at the thought of spending her birthday alone.

See you then.

-

The yukata was ill-fitting at best. It had been a hand-me-down from Miyako several years ago, the once-vibrant pink fading into a sickly flush. Twinkling lights cast a golden haze over the boardwalk, but Hikari couldn’t focus on the hoards of people.

He was walking towards her.

Takeru’s hair was aflame underneath the lights. His shoulders were broader than she remembered, and with the closer he got, it was apparent that he had grown taller. She waited patiently for him to notice her; he always had a knack for finding her in the midst of a crowd.

Sure enough, Hikari offered a reserved smile as his eyes settled on her figure. “You look wonderful.” Takeru was nothing if not polite. Still, she allowed his eyes to wander over her before she paid the compliment back in kind. Neither of them spoke of the palpable tension between them.

Part of her wished he would lose his temper. What are you running from? Why do you keep pushing us away? There would be a strange satisfaction in the way she could make Takeru become unhinged. But, his hand guided her throughout the booths, their chatter never straying from the ordinary.

It had been months since Hikari had last been in his proximity. The smell of his cologne soothed the tension in her shoulders but ignited something in her stomach. He took her on a tour of the food stands, his own yukata brushing against her.

She was three bites into her yakitori when Takeru tugged on her sleeve. They had wandered away from the worst of the crowds, the twinkling lights glowing in the distance. “Look!”

A hand rested on her shoulder while he pointed at something in the night sky. “Do you see those stars?”

Away from the festival lights, the shoreline offered the pair some reprieve. The stars shone brighter by the sea. How long had it been since she had last looked at the sky?

His arm reached around her, pointing at one of the points in the sky, his breath hot on her ear. “Vega and Altair, just over there. Those are the star-crossed lovers.”

It was too much. His warmth seeped through her, his fire igniting her and slowly fanning her back to life. Takeru’s smile was blinding, even more than the stars in the sky. He should come with a side effect warning, she thought, a sudden spell of dizziness uprooting her from their position. Hikari had kicked of her shoes, relishing in the way the sand felt between her toes. It was chilly without his arm wrapped around her, but she had always loved the cold. If her silence bothered him, Takeru never mentioned it. Afterall, Takeru was nothing if not polite.

“I see.” She turned her face towards the sky as if to prove that she was paying attention, but her mind was elsewhere. His own sandals had joined hers, his footsteps muffled by the sand. His approached was expected, but Hikari couldn’t help but jump when his fingers tucked her bangs behind her ears. It was dark, but he felt the heat of her cheek against his fingertips.

She wanted to run.

Two slips of paper were pressed into her hand, his toothy grin being the only explanation. “Let’s make a wish.”

A pen was pulled from the folds of his outfit, and true to form, gave it to her to use first. The sand welcomed her as she plopped down. Hikari silently thanked the gods that there were no other people on the shore to see her act like such a child.

The pen hovered over the thin slip. There was so much that she still wanted. She wanted a job she didn’t hate, an apartment that wasn’t so empty. She wanted someone to spend her life with; she didn’t want to wake up alone.

Takeru stood behind her in the sand, his focus on the steady beat of the waves on the shoreline. The things she wanted couldn’t be written on a piece of paper. She had given up on those things long ago. Hastily, she scratched something out on the paper, more for show than anything else.

Once Takeru had written his, he offered her a hand up. Her small hand was engulfed in his, and for a moment, she let herself imagine that it meant something. The moment floated away on a light breeze that ruffled her bangs, but he made no effort to fix them this time.

He dropped her hand as soon as she was righted on her feet. Silence coated them like an old blanket – warm, but slightly uncomfortable. They walked towards the lights of the festival, to the bonfire that was in full swing.

Hikari smiled up at him, tentatively reaching for his hand once more. It didn’t mean anything, not yet, but she couldn’t bear him thinking that she wasn’t thankful for him. The flames cast a glow on his face, and she could make out the traces of a smile.

He squeezed her hand, dropping his wish into the fire. Twenty-three had crept up on her, but Takeru was an unrelenting constant. They were destined to be together, yet destined to fail. As a pair, they were luminous, so bright that burning each other was inevitable. A pair so hopelessly in love that it drove them apart.

She knew how it would end. She knew that their failure was imminent, yet she took a step forward.

“Happy birthday, Hikari.”

#takari week #takari week 2021 #takari

[earlgreymon]

odaiba memorial day template

it is 1 august already in the most eastern part of the world (utc+14), so happy odaiba memorial day everyone! this year, i present you some templates to fill just for fun!

i made it in instagram story size (tried with my own instagram and it works fine... but i know it really depends on your device’s screen resolution so lmk if it turns ugly), but of course you can post this anywhere!

now, a few explanations before i post my own later on...

your first adventure: basically, today’s the day taichi and his friends went to the digital world. so let’s imagine if we’re the one who actually go instead! who will be your partner? what will you bring? what crest or digimental will you have? don’t forget to put your name and where you came from; digidestineds are everywhere around the world, right?

#meetthedigidestined: an alternate version of the first one. this is inspired from #meettheartist. you can use this template to introduce yourself more. tell us what you like, what you don’t like, and if you can draw, why don’t you put some illustration of yourself in the box? if you can’t, you may put your own photo, a picrew avatar, or well... a simple life quote? (yes, you should erase the text on the box yourself, but i have erased it for you too here).

favorite digimon: pretty self explanatory! separate boxes for different level of digimon. the bigger box is for others that don’t follow the basic level hierarchy.

fanwork recommendation: this is made specially to appreciate and recommend digimon fanart artists and fanfic writers! the series may have long ended before we get a reboot but the love and the works from fans have keep this fandom alive! so thank you!!

digimon ost: this is the “pick one” type of template for the songs from the series. of course butter-fly should have its own box. i can only put songs from adventure to frontier as they are the only series i’ve watched, but for other songs (including character songs) you like... well, you can write it yourself under.

digicouples: dear shippers, this template is for you! again, i only put the adventure characters since odaiba day itself is sort of adventure-centrist. i don’t want to spark some shipwars, so i only put otp (for those you’re actively ship), romantic (for romantic ships that you like), and friendship/platonic (for non-romantic ships that you like). in case you didn’t watch 02, i also put the original 8 version.

which digigirls are you: for some #girlpower!! please note that the elements are mostly my headcanon, so i know you won’t 100% agree, especially on hogwarts house... but hey, i gotta keep four different options!

let me know if you fill some (or all?); i wanna know your answer! don’t hesitate to tag me :) i will post my own answers here on 6am utc+10 (yeah, i got it on my queue lol). have fun!!

#digimon #by me #digigraphic #digiedit #odaiba memorial day #odaiba memorial day 2020 #graphic #digimon adventure #digimon ost #digimentals #template #ig story template #digicrest #digicouples #digigirls

[genork-the-fandork]

To celebrate Odaiba Day, I wanted to give some recognition to the “Odaibas” of the other series; that is, the days that started the other series’ adventures. While Odaiba Day doesn’t exactly recognize every Digimon beginning, I’d like to think it’s a celebration of all things Digimon.

So here are some one shots featuring the Adventure and non-Adventure series. I hope you enjoy! <3

01

"Wow. So today was the day, huh?" Tai said, glancing at the calendar on the fridge. It was the same brand of calendar that had been up the first time around. Now, two years later, it felt like yesterday that he was realizing the time flow between the Digital World and the human one was different.

The rest of the gang was crowded in his living room, eating the snacks his mother had put out for him. When they'd planned to get together, they had completely forgotten about the actual anniversary of their adventure. But in some ways, they had subconsciously remembered it anyway. Tai had a feeling the date would live on in their hearts for a long time.

"Tai! Hurry up with the food!" Agumon called, his face covered in crumbs. "I'm starving!"

"You might wanna do what he says!" Matt added. "I'm afraid he's going to eat Patamon next!"

"What?!" Patamon squeaked, hiding behind T.K.

Laughing, Tai brought out the rest of the snacks, leaving behind the calendar that had served as an eternal reminder of that fateful day.

02

Davis half-expected something exciting to happen on his first day of high school. Unfortunately, it was the same old school nonsense that he'd never really liked. No new kid that somehow knew the girl he liked, no computer warping him to the Digital World. It was almost saddening, really.

But his spirits lifted when he saw T.K. and Kari waiting for him outside the school. Yolei was off to the side, probably calling Ken or Cody to make sure they were ready to meet up. "You ready to go, Davis?" T.K. called, grinning the grin that used to annoy Davis to no end.

"'Course I am! I've been waiting for this all day!" he called back, running up to his friends. "Ramen, here I come!"

Kari and Yolei giggled as T.K. and Davis set off down the street, bickering over what type of ramen was the best. 

It wasn't a big celebration, like the rest of the gang tended to do on anniversaries, but it was fitting for them, and that was all that mattered.

Tamers

Takato remembered the exact spot where he had first found the physical form of Guilmon. He also remembered the exact spot where the baby forms of all the Digimon had gone back to the Digital World. There were a lot of things he remembered, sentimental as he was, but he was starting to forget the exact day when it had all begun.

"To be fair, Takato, everything started on different days for all of us," Henry reasoned, closing his shoe locker and hoisting his messenger bag onto his shoulder. "I met Terriermon before you met Guilmon, and Jeri met Leomon before Kazu and Kenta met their partners. It's a bit hard to remember an anniversary when none of ours match up."

"But it would be nice to celebrate something that changed our lives the way the Digimon did," Takato said with a sigh.

"Why don't we just celebrate the day we all promised we'd meet again?" Rika said from Takato's left, appearing out of nowhere. She had long since mastered Renamon's signature skill.

Henry and Takato exchanged a glance. "That's perfect!" Takato exclaimed. "Then that'll be our anniversary!"

"But that's today—" Henry started to say, yelping when Takato grabbed his and Rika's hands and started dragging them down the street.

"Time to celebrate!"

Frontier

"We look weird," Koji said as they all stood in the train station, looking like a very conspicuous group of schoolkids.

"Well, where else are we supposed to celebrate?" Takuya snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Maybe not so close to the stairs I fell down?" Koichi suggested, eyeing the offending stairwell cautiously.

"What are we gonna do? Play card games in here?" J.P. asked, snacking on some chips.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Tommy said. "Can we decide what we're doing here?"

"I knew I shouldn't have come," Zoe sighed. "Takuya didn't have a plan, just like I thought."

"Is it so bad that I wanted us all to spend time together?" Takuya nearly yelled, drawing the attention of passersby. Blushing furiously, Takuya muttered, "This is where our adventure began, guys. Cut me some slack, it's not like we were at a summer camp or something."

They couldn't help but smile at that. "Maybe we should go grab some pizza?" Koji suggested softly, placing his hand on Takuya's shoulder.

"Sounds like a plan," J.P. agreed, and they all got up and headed out of the train station, teasing Takuya about his lack of planning.

But they all silently agreed that they appreciated his efforts very, very much.

Data Squad [Savers]

"Remember the day we met?" Marcus asked, staring out at the world he now called his home.

"Hard to forget. You punch hard, Marcus," Agumon said, shaking his head at the memory. "Sometimes I still feel like I have bruises from that fight."

"Ha, sorry about that, buddy." Marcus grinned. "I never woulda thought that would lead to us both here, in the Digital World. Pretty wild, huh?"

"You got that right." Agumon paused. "I hope Yoshino and Thomas are alright."

"Ah, they'll be fine. They're smarter than me," Marcus said, waving off Agumon's concern. "If anything, I just want them to hurry up and open up the gate again so I can see my sister."

"We'll see them again, I'm sure of it." Agumon slapped a clawed hand over his chest. "If it's the last thing I do, I'll tear apart the worlds to let you see your sister again."

Marcus couldn't help but laugh at that. "Hey, thanks, bud."

That was when they heard someone calling Marcus's name.

"Marcus! Agumon! Are you there?"

They looked at each other, astonished. Was that…

"Yoshino! Over here!"

Marcus spun around with a wide smile to see his friends running toward him.

Well, what a happy anniversary this was.

Xros Wars [+Hunters]

"Man, what a ride the past couple years has been," Taiki said, adjusting the goggles on his head. "I don't think there are words to express how crazy this has all been."

"Easy for you to say," Akari teased. "You didn't get left behind twice when things were going down."

"I said I was sorry," Taiki began again, and Zenjirou chuckled at the familiar apology.

Tagiru and Gumdramon weren't even paying attention; they were too busy scarfing down their junk food. Yuu and Nene watched in almost concerned fascination while Ryouma and company dined at a table across the aisle from them.

"Hard to believe it's been a year since everything calmed down," Kiriha said, sipping his milkshake as he rested his arm over the seat of the booth. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll wake up and need to go solve some Digimon problem."

"I know what you mean," Taiki said. "It never really leaves you."

Nene smiled. "But now the world is safe and we can focus on spending time together, right?"

Zenjirou blushed at the word "together," but before he could ask her out again, Tagiru said, "Only if it means we come back here every time!"

The others laughed at that, letting Tagiru's antics wash away the uncertainty and fear that the Digital World was never truly saved. For now, they were here, and they were going to have a good time together.

#digimon #digiweek2021 #gen writes #digiweek day 7 #digimon drabble #digimon adventure #digimon tamers #digimon frontier #digimon savers #digimon xros wars #the logic on some of these doesn't track but shhhhh #didn't remember the exact nuances of savers's ending sorry a;sdjf;asdj

[gossipchii]

Drive to survive

FF.net: here / AO3: here

Characters: Ishida Yamato

Words: 5100+

Notes: I promised this on twitter, and here as well and well, it happened. A Digimon story on my latest obsession. the Formula 1.

It’s safe to say I got excited, this is my longest story in forever!

Anyway, hope you like it as much as I do. Enjoy!

He was making history; he could not let himself forget it. Not ever had there been a Japanese driver to win podiums, and so far, during that season only, he had five. He had been working towards where he was right now ever since he was 8, when his dad had taken him to a kid’s go-kart circuit in Tokyo and had found out his heart had never beaten quicker. His mom had gotten scared when he told her how much he had liked it, and that he wanted to go back.

The owner of the place, a former engineer for Formula 1, was impressed as soon as he placed his eyes on him.

“He’s got talent,” he had told his mother, she shrugged it off. It was only a hobby, it had to be.

When his grandparents had gone visiting from Paris, Yamato had insisted on them seeing him race, he was only ten at the time. His grandfather knew he raced go-karts from his calls with his mother, but since she had insisted it was just a hobby, he took it that way. Of course, as an old French man, he was a big afficionado of car races, and nevertheless he was impressed by how fast his young grandson was.

“He’s a natural Natsuko, you must understand this is not just a hobby.”

Yamato traveled back to France with his grandparents, after he had heard them discussed with his mother about him taking a shot at race teams in Europe, professional ones. He had never been a professional before, he was not even sure what that meant, since Formula 1 was not a popular sport between his classmates, it was all about soccer and baseball, he did not know people could get paid by racing.

Michel, his grandfather, had a friend, who knew a friend, who was a part of the recruiting team of Renault’s quarry, and as soon as they saw 10-year-old Yamato behind his tiny wheel, they knew he was a natural, good enough to start training as soon as possible with their team.

It all happened too fast for him, he had to go back to Tokyo to pack up his life and leaving for good. He was not even certain if he were feeling sad or nostalgic, all he knew was school would turn into something he could do at home, and in French, and that he would be racing all the time. It all sounded like a dream, really.

“Don’t tell your grandma I’m telling you this but go kick those English kids’ butts!” had been the encouragement words coming from his grandpa before his first-ever professional race. He was 13 at the time, already gaining enough attention from the media, especially from his home country, despite only stepping foot in Japan once a year.

He tried not to read anything regarding himself, they tended to be mean, and underappreciating him. He knew after the first article he had read, he would never read it again, what was the point anyway?

“Next time I see anyone writing something mean they’ll be fired, even if they work elsewhere,” his dad had threatened.

“It’s okay, I don’t even care anymore. Let them talk, all I care about is getting podium, again.”

And so, he did, until he was old enough to jump to the bigger leagues. From Formula 3 to Formula 2, and finally, with only 21 years old, signing a five-year contract with the team Michel had always admired: Scuderia Ferrari.

Sadly enough, he had not had the chance to see him drive in red, because he had passed away due to a heart-attack, his grandmother passing away shortly after. People said she had died from heartbreak. Yamato only took it as another reason why he had to prove his best. His management team had told him media were already calling him the best Japanese driver in history, and that was nice, but only if he made it reality.

Yamato had helped Ferrari pound back to being the first-place team once again, after years of competing against Red-Bull and Mercedes. But he had only been the fifth best racer, not good enough if he wanted to make history.

That week he was back in his homeland, Japan greeting him as a hero for the Japanese Grand Prix. It was scary how much his face was everywhere he looked, even more so than pop-icons. He was glad his team respected his choice to remain mostly private, and when they wanted advertising, his team-mate, an Austrian dude who was six years older than him, was more than happy to do the interviewing.

It was safe to say he was not pleased when they asked him to do a photoshoot for a local fashion brand, up and coming worldwide, apparently. Yamato did not care much about fashion, despite him being called the best dressed racer a few years in a row. Not that he knew about it, plus he usually put on an all-black outfit and he was through.

“Why can’t Lechner do it?”

“They want you specifically, Ishida.” His manager said softly, “even the Japanese embassy is paying for this partnership. Aren’t you proud to be Japanese?”

“Of course, I am, asshole.” He smirked, rolling his eyes as he decided it was the perfect timing to visit his brother.

As expected, he was on a tight schedule, this could never count as a vacation visit to Japan, but he had asked his team to send him into Japan two days earlier to visit his family. It was a tradition he tended to do ever since he started racing world-wide.

He took his ever-loved motorbike and drove as fast as he could to Odaiba. Driving a motorbike had been what he could call his hobby, since karting had turned into his job, having built a couple of them while living in Italy.

“He better be home,” he stretched his arms as he opened the door in front of him, knowing damn well his brother always made the mistake to leave it unlocked. He heard him singing in his bathroom, which meant he was finishing taking a shower. He looked around to confirm his mother was not home and shrugged it off. He had drifted apart from her when he initially moved to France with his grandparents, and even more so when his parents (finally) got divorced.

“Don’t you dare opening that door if you’re naked.”

“YAMATO?” Takeru opened the door wearing nothing but his tiny white trousers.

“I truly do not feel like seeing you naked,” but of course his younger brother could not care less and ran to greet him with a hug. He was the only person on earth allowed to hug him.

“What a funny way of admitting how much you had missed me!!” He gifted him one of his traded white smiles, the warmest smile Yamato knew. “Nervous for this weekend?”

“As long as it doesn’t rain, I don’t see why I should be.”

“Even when it rains you succeed, you’re always making everyone proud!”

“Even you?” he served himself oolong tea. He was surprised to see beer in his mom’s fridge, forgetting for a second his younger brother was legally allowed to drink.

“You know I’m your number one fan, those old-rich men are nothing compared to the original Yamato Ishida stan!” Takeru walked into his room to get dressed, for Yamato’s relief. He had offered his mother if they wanted to move to a bigger apartment, considering he now had the money to provide her and Takeru with something better, but she had refused, and he gave up after the third time.

“Going out?”

“I was going to, with the good-old gang, but that was before I knew you would pay me a visit.”

“So Hikari and company, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, even Taichi is coming, you should come, too!” Taichi was his oldest friend, the only one he missed when he moved to Europe.

“Nah, you know I don’t drink.” And it was not merely because of his strict diet, he was not a fan of what alcohol did with his mindset. “But you go and have fun, I must get back to my place, anyway, and be as early as possible in Suzuka tomorrow morning.” Takeru looked disappointed, Yamato felt a pinch of guilt for not being what a fun older brother was supposed to be. “But I’ll text Taichi! Remind everyone they’re invited this weekend, VIP seats and all!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, brother.” Yamato smiled softly before playing with Takeru’s hair like he used to when they were kids, even if he was almost his height.

He took a chopper ride from Tokyo to Suzuka the morning after. He had much rather taken the train, but Ferrari strictly prohibited him from doing so.

“Are you insane? People would eat you alive, you’re pretty much as famous as Hello Kitty is in this place!” He ignored his comment, it was always annoying to Yamato when they were in Japan, because most of his team-mates were foreign to Japanese culture, and he did not have the patience to educate every single one of them.

It was Thursday, which meant he could do strength exercises before the testing race the next day.

“How’s my superstar doing?” the mere voice of his manager irritated him, but he had another year signed up to him, afterwards he had decided to work by himself. After all, he still had another three-year contract with Ferrari.

“He’s extremely focused,” and he was strength training was the hardest to him.

“Don’t forget you have that photoshoot I had mentioned you in an hour, and I wouldn’t like you to go there all sweaty.”

“Do you think I would forget?” but in fact, he had forgotten it, his mind had probably erased the memory of that specific event.

“I’m glad we’re finally on the same track,” he winked at Yamato, before shutting the door of the hotel’s gym.

Yamato did not have much of a choice, so he took a cold shower before heading to one of the hotel’s meeting rooms. It had all been transformed for it to look like a Sakura garden. In reality, it was October and Sakura’s were far from blossoming. He would be lying if he did not admit it looked rather breathtaking.

He had heard about this up-and-coming brand. They had turned the Japanese typical attire and turned it into mainstream. He had to admit he was a fan.

He had also heard the brand had been started by a young student from Bunka Fashion College, under the wings of a bigger brand. He had heard, not that he cared, really, that the founder was around his age. Suddenly, he was curious.

“Ishida Yamato, what a pleasure to finally meet you!” a man around his thirties greeted him rather enthusiastic.

“You must be…?”

“Oh, you’re a funny one! Yoshio Fujiwara, of course!” And the Fujiwara branding was the bigger one who had taken the young designer under his wings, he wondered where she was.

“Of course, of course,” he bowed, always traying himself to remain close to his Japanese customs and traditions. “A pleasure to meet you, Fujiwara-san.”

“No need to be formal with me, I’m very used to western traditions, having spent most of your life in Europe, I would have killed for an opportunity like that!” Yamato tried his best not to roll his eyes, faking his best smile. “It is our biggest pleasure that you have accepted to be the face of our newest collection.” Yamato saw a petit figure running around the room with pieces of clothing covering her, he wondered if that was Fujiwara counterpart.

“It’s always delightful to put Japan’s name high, you know.” He cleared his voice, “so, am I also going to meet Takenouchi-san?”

“You absolutely will, she must be somewhere around… Sora!?” The fast-paced person finally stopped, uncovering her face from the piles of clothing she was carrying. “Don’t be rude and introduce yourself to Yamato.”

“Sure thing, just let me finish up the final touches and…”

“Now?!” Yamato noticed a subtle sigh coming from her lips. She surely seemed young, barely his own age. For the first time since the encounter started, he felt safe.

She ran right next to him, her attention still clearly on the mess she had left. He could immediately tell how passionate she was about what she was doing.

“It’s a pleasure, Ishida-san. I would love to lie and say I’m a fan, but truth is this is my first time having an encounter with races, or cars in general…”

“Sora! You’re being rude!”

“Sorry, I still take the subway and I never got a driver’s license!” Yamato snorted, in those five seconds he decided that redhead was his favorite person in the room.

“Well, I’m glad to admit this is not my first encounter with your brand, I’ve read so much.” Her eyes lit up; Yamato could have even sworn he spotted a subtle blush in her face.

He was rather awkward in front of the cameras, never quite a natural. Another reason why his team-mate was the one to do most of Ferrari’s advertisements. But Sora helped him feel in his element, somehow. He liked how much she got into her character, almost ignoring him by how much she cared on how her designs looked on him.

“I think we’re good, we shouldn’t take much more of your time.” By then, Fujiwara had left the room, Sora was certain he had slipped into the hotel bar.

“That must have been the less stressful photoshoot I’ve ever had, thank you, Takenouchi-san.”

“Oh, don’t call me that! I’m not older than you are.”

“Then you must accept to drop the formalities with me as well.” A grimaced appeared on her face, clearly unsure.

“But you’re a client, that would be completely unprofessional!”

“I promise I won’t tell anybody,” Sora liked that, a dirty-little-secret.

“Fine, but if Fujiwara is around, I’ll go back in character.”

“Deal,” Yamato grabbed a bottle of water and doubted if he should say what his mind was begging at him to do. “Are you staying for the race?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I had no idea how this worked.” She shrugged, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t understand why it lasts so many days, it’s confusing. This whole sport is confusing.” Sora liked sports, for instance, sports where a ball had to go from one side of the court to the other, not cars and tires.

“It’s not that hard, you’ll see,” they took a seat on the fake grass Sora had built for the photoshoot. “The first day is merely for us to get familiar with the track, nothing formal. The second day the places for the actual race, which is on Sunday, get settled. And that’s pretty much it.”

“And you get to travel the world for that?”

“People can be very serious about their cars.”

“Incredible,” she locked eyes with Yamato, she was not familiar with his sport but she sure was with his face, and not only because it was everywhere she looked around the city’s billboards, but because she had studied it for the whole photoshoot, and even for the particular line she was about to launch.

“It would be fun if you stayed, some friends around our age are coming too, so it won’t be that weird for you.”

“Okay, but I’ll stay for fun, not as a part of my job schedule.”

“Great!” He said way too enthusiastic, regretting it right away. “I can get you great tickets, so don’t worry about that.” She chuckled, taking out her VIP pass.

“Don’t worry, I have that part settled.”

“Of course, you do,” he felt stupid, all sponsors got the best tickets, even better than he could even get most times.

“So, I’ll see you around? Do you say break a leg for this?”

“Absolutely not! But I appreciate your luck wishes.”

He was glad on Friday’s there was never much of a crowd, that way he could stay focused on what mattered: getting comfortable enough with the track. Whenever he raced, he felt an almost out of body experience, where he could disconnect from his current reality and be one with his car. Ferrari had nicknamed him the racing samurai, for how dramatic his recovering could be whenever he was behind on the race.

Japan had never particularly been the biggest crowd when it came to Formula 1, but ever since he had started getting podiums, and making a name out of himself, it had a 180 degrees change. Ferrari could not be happier with the now 23-yeard-old racer, he was smart, analytic, and cold headed.

When he got back to the Pits, he was greeted by his family, not expecting to see them until the day after.

“You were pretty fast out there!” his dad said, as awkward as he usually was.

“This was merely the boring race, we were just testing the track,” he smiled widely, greeting him by what could be considered a hug, or sort of one.

“But Hiroaki is right, you were extremely fast. That car you’re racing, is a beauty,” seeing his mother was always an adventure for Yamato. Ever since he left home, at such a young age, they had drifted apart. Naturally, she was worried for her older son, racing and putting his life at risk every time he did so. Yamato had heard her fighting with his grandpa countless times, until she finally gave in. She was never going to win, Yamato loved karting the same way she loved writing.

“You were tremendous there, superstar!” his manager came to greet him, as much as he annoyed him, he was not a bad person, he just clearly loved the money Yamato made him gain. “You better keep up the pace the rest of the weekend.”

“That’s the plan,” Yamato served himself a cup of tea, while he took a seat in front of the screen that was studying his track performance. He was nearly obsessed with improving, never not paying attention at even the slightest mistake.

“Before I forget,” his manager was French, and spoke a very heavily accented English. His family, apart from Takeru, barely spoke any English at all, hence why they did not communicate with one another. Yamato despised that, considering he could speak four languages. “Young Takenouchi asked me to give you her number, Romeo.” Yamato’s cheeks flushed, as he took with both hands the business card he was being given.

“I’ll quickly go to my room,” he excused himself with his family, promising he would meet them for a quick dinner.

He wrote and re-wrote his text message towards Sora, not wanting to appear desperate. Formula 1 drivers, at least some of them, had the reputation of being more than successful with the opposite sex, however Yamato was rather unlucky. He put so much effort into his performance inside the track, he tended to neglect everything else. Hence why it felt nice to have a close to normal conversation with someone his age, a woman his age.

“This is Yamato, I heard the rumor you wanted to have my number,” he finally sent, wanting to throw his phone over the window right after.

“How come we spent so much time talking yesterday and I had to ask your manager for your number?” she replied right after, Yamato felt relieved.

“I guess we lost track of time.”

“Hey, I had to come back to Tokyo, business matters. But I’m not one to break any promises, so I hope you still save a seat for me for the big race on Sunday. Did I say that correctly?”

Yamato immediately felt disappointment, but he had to understand he was not dealing with someone unoccupied; this was a young entrepreneur with a worldwide successful fashion brand.

“Are you sure you want to make a four-hour trip to see some car racing?”

“As I said, I’m not a promise breaker. Plus, is not Formula 1 supposed to be the best car racing in the world? I won’t miss it, and I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, and your spot on Scuderia Ferrari will remain untouched.”

“Great, I’m actually pretty excited! You have turned it into such a big deal for the country, I’ve never seen such a media coverage on the sport before. How was the tracking test?”

Yamato’s stomach made a turn. He did not want to focus on the pressure it meant to be in his home country, he just wanted to do what he always did, which meant to give his 100% performance, and get better every time. He just really hoped it would not rain on Sunday…

Him and Sora kept texting for the rest of the day, and the morning after as he got ready for the weekend’s second race. His goal was to qualify on the front row, that was always a determining factor for the final race. His mom had been right when she mentioned his car was a beauty, because it may not be the fastest car, that would still go to Mercedes, but if Ferrari had something no other team could fight with, was beauty.

He was not one to make many friends, but he was always amicable with the rest of the drivers. He saw them more than he saw his family, and even grew up with a big amount of them, but he always tried to focus on what they really were: his competition.

The weather so far had looked hopeful, a rainy race was one of his biggest fears, he had already had more than one rainy accident, and they had been hard to get over. He tried not to put too much thought into it, how he put his life at risk every time he got into the car, because there was no point in doing so, considering he was not going to stop, racing was the most important part of his life.

He got behind his wheel and his team assured his car was ready to go for the last time, and he got into driving mode, forgetting everything else, the pressure, the people, the weather, his friends. He almost disassociated from everything, but the track, and his team speaking whenever there was something to say, like which place he was on at the moment.

He had gotten so used to Ferrari, after being over two years on the team, that he could go as far as to describe its motor as a part of him. The first few laps were always the most stressful ones, and were most of the accidents happened, everyone tried to gain that valuable P1 as fast as possible, but Yamato thought of it as a waste of energy, he would rather stay behind for the first few laps and give it all in after. It had worked for him so far, avoiding the turmoil behind it.

There were 53 laps in the Japanese track, not that he counted them, but he always studied the tracks of wherever he was at. He just focused on staying in track, passing the rest of the drivers and being fast, and his team made sure he did not forget where his position was at the moment, which was a P5, his teammate was currently second. Fifth was not a bad position, it was still second row, but it was not his goal, he truly wanted first row. In the end he had managed to end up fourth, which his team congratulated him for, he still was not happy.

Back in Ferrari’s box, he had a bigger crowd greeting him, not only his parents and brother, but some of his closest childhood friends.

“Man, how does it feel to be able to fly!” Taichi said before giving him a big hug, which Yamato did not mind, he guessed he was also allowed to hug him.

“What I wonder is what that amount of speed can do with your body, I read you lose up to 3 liters every time you race,” Joe patted his shoulder, the soon-to-be-doctor never missed to drop a random anatomy fact on him. “And sorry, but it seems to Koushiro your car’s machinery is way more impressive than you.”

His third friend, a genius redhead, had been talking non-stop with his team’s engineers, asking questions Yamato could possibly never answer.

He spent the next few hours doing interviews, as much as he hated them, it was on his contract to do them before and after every Grand Prix. He also took more time studying his career, and where he could improve. He wanted to get podium on his home country more than he had ever wanted before.

But of course, he also took the chance to spend some time with his loved ones, catching up about their crazy adult lives.

“Koushiro could soon enough buy one of these teams, you know? He’s getting so rich!” Taichi had a big mouth, but they had gotten used to it. And to be fair with his brunette friend, he was not wrong, considering Koushiro’s software startup had gotten public, and the dude was only 22.

“And Jou’s about to be a doctor, and you, well, you didn’t get kicked out of Uni!” They all laughed, Taichi rolled his eyes. Yamato had gotten so comfortable with their conversation, he got scared when his phone began ringing.

“Yes?”

“Guess who’s just landed in Suzuka!” it was Sora, his heart skipped a beat. “I’m glad I made it a few hours before I had promised, I truly didn’t want to miss tomorrow’s race.”

“Where are you exactly? You should come join us! I’m at Ferrari’s tent with some childhood friends, I mean, if you’re not too tired.” His friends started yelling embarrassing things to him, as friends did whenever you spoke on the phone with someone, even if that someone was your own mother. Except, of course, it was not his mother.

“Great! I’ll ask the driver to drop me off.”

They spent the next few hours chatting, and laughing, and making fun of Yamato with embarrassing stories Sora was rather intrigued to keep on listening. Of course, Sora had hit it off with his friends, she was a great talker, they all had liked her, he could tell, especially with Koushiro, considering the man was the clearest book when it came to first impressions. He felt disappointed once he checked his watch to confirm it was time for him to go to bed, the big day was closer than ever.

Suzuka was one of the last races on Formula 1’s schedule, which meant every single point counted even more. He was disappointed when he checked the weather, there was a rain forecast, but there was nothing he could do, he still was willing to give the best race he had given in his career span. His friends and family wished him the best of luck, just as he dressed up in the famous red suit.

He had never felt this overwhelmed before, as soon as he stepped a foot outside of Scuderia Ferrari’s box, the crowd chanting his name was like nothing he ever heard before. He bowed shyly, turning the shouts even louder. Fame had never been something he had been looking for once he started racing in Formula 1, but he thought at the end of the day it was only inevitable. He really wanted to make his co-nationals proud.

P4 was not a bad place to start racing, yet he could hear his heart beating up to his ears. A rainy race was always messy, and there was always a bigger risk for accidents, not just for him, but for the other racers as well. He had to drive smartly; speed was not all that mattered in that moment.

His eyes were fixated on the checkered flag, as soon as it went down, his feet went all in. Suzuka’s Grand Prix finally starting.

As it was expected, some cars lost control on the very first curve, him being noticed by his team on the other side of the microphone. He hoped nothing bad had happened to them. On a rainy race it was important to have extra control while reaching a curve, and absolutely never trying to overpass another racer while on them.

By lap 30 he had improved to P3, the engine of the previous third place had had some issues, which pushed him into the pits. The Ferrari engine had significantly been improved for the current season, and it showed. It had been a while since the red team had had both of their cars in podium position, and he was doing quicker laps than the last year’s race.

Everything appeared to be going according to plan, Yamato wanted to win, of course, but he was not unhappy with the third place. Yet, the unthinkable happened on lap 49, when his teammate lost control of the steering wheel. It all happened so quickly, Yamato could barely avoid the inevitable crash, which was bad enough for them to call a red flag, every racer had been sent back into pits.

His teammate had been fine, he could even walk by himself; however, his car could have been confused with garbage. A shame, really, everything had been better than what they could have imagined. Now every podium expectation fell on his shoulders, and he could hear the public screaming his name even louder, as if he was some sort of rock star.

“Only 4 laps left, you can do it,” and he was now put in second place, a bittersweet feeling inside his gut.

The final lap felt like the longest he had driven, all he truly wanted was for it to end. He was less than two seconds away from the first place, which his team kept repeating. He knew he could do it, if he tried and overtake him near the end, right after the final curve… And so, he did, winning a podium for the first time in his short Formula 1 life career. He had not done it for himself only, but for Lechner as well. It felt insane, he was no longer feeling the ground, he was still flying somehow.

Champagne soaked him as soon as he stepped out of the car, being hugged by everyone on the famous red car team. He was not easily to make cry, but he could not help the tears coming out, and he wished, if he were ever going to cry again, it better be as good of a feeling as he finally lifted the trophy for Suzuka’s Grand Prix.

#fanfiction #digimon adventure #fanfic #ishida yamato #yamato ishida #formula 1 #formula one #sorato #sora takenouchi #takeru takaishi #taichi yagami #jou kido #koushiro izumi

[konpithepuppy]

[TRANSLATION: POTATO 06.2021]

7 MEN SAMURAI

Proofread by aji10647731 (Twitter)/ @janiappend

Scans not mine

Neither an English nor a Japanese native speaker

Feel free to correct me, thanks

DEGREE OF LOVE

Measuring the degree of love they have for their partner in quiz format. 2 questions that test their relationship and 1 original question for each pair, can they match their answers with each other!? (Interview was done around the 1st 10 days of April)

NAKAMURA REIA x YABANA REI

BEING PIXELATED IN A STREET INTERVIEW?

Yabana: The interview this time is for us pair to match our answers. There are 3 questions in total.

Nakamura: Let us answer after "go". The first question is, "What is the best memory of us two?" Ready, set, go..."my sister..."

Yabana: "Going to an instrument store..." It is clear that we are completely talking about different things (LOL).

Nakamura: Mine is about my sister giving Yabana a jersey. My sister likes Yabana and she gives him advice through me. She gives advice like, "His hair is long, it is better for him to cut it. His hairstyle in summer 2 years ago is good." (LOL).

Yabana: Also, she said, "He always wears shabby sweatshirt," so I received a brand new jersey from her through Reia (LOL).  What I was trying to say earlier is the time where the 2 of us went to instrument store to see some bass.

Nakamura: We also did that! After buying the bass, I got it painted by Yabana's father. But, since we both talked about family members, I wonder if this is partially correct (LOL).

Yabana: Let's perfectly match in the 2nd question. "Describe your relationship in one word." Ready, set, go..."a bad companion!"

Nakamura: "Boyfriend-girlfriend!" We didn't match again (LOL).

Yabana: We often talk but we usually endlessly talk about things that won't do any good, right? That is like being bad friends having fun.

Nakamura: We talk about things like our fave musics or fave manga. Our hobbies match.

Yabana: It's just that there is no substance (LOL).

Nakamura: No matter how late at night it is already, Yabana plays with me when I invite him in a game, so I think our relationship is like a boyfriend who cannot refuse to his girlfriend's invites (LOL).

Yabana: I see. Well, playing a game late at night is also a bad thing so this means that this is also partially correct...(LOL).

Nakamura: Right? (LOL). We are at the last question now. "If you are called for another street interview for a television show, are you going to do it?" Ready, set, go..."I won't do it!"

Yabana: "I will do it!"...we didn't match (LOL).

Nakamura: Well, when Yabana appeared in the street interview for 「Getsuyou Kara Yofukashi」, I asked the manager, "Can I also do an interview like that?" And then, I was told, "No, you can't," by the manager.

Yabana: Really? (LOL)  I also contacted the manager before the filming just in case, I asked if it's okay to take an interview. And then, since the manager said it's okay, it was a chance to advertise 7 MEN 侍 in a television!

Nakamura: It seems like it is okay for Yabana to do it, but not for me (LOL). But I have a feeling that I want to be on an interview too. Oh, well, next time when the 2 of us got interviewed, I think let's do the interview where I am the only one being pixelated.

Yabana: That's probably suspicious in the contrary! (LOL)

SUGETA RINNE x MOTODAKA KATSUKI

THE PERCENTAGE OF WATCHING EACH OTHER'S TV SHOW APPEARANCES IS?

Motodaka: Our best memory, huh.

Sugeta: Rinne thought of something!

Motodaka: Well, let's say our answers. Ready, set, go!

Sugeta: "When we welcomed Reiwa!"

Motodaka: "Sexy Zone's..." Ah!! Wait, that's my answer too! (LOL)

Sugeta: You're  trying to talk about Sexy Zone, right? (LOL) Is it about a concert tour?

Motodaka: Yup. During Sexy Zone's concert tour, only our hotel room was the Cinderella-like (LOL). We were ojousama-like.

Sugeta: That also crossed my mind!

Motodaka: But if we talk about something special, it is definitely the moment where we welcomed Reiwa.

Sugeta: We went to watch a late-night movie, and since it will be Reiwa very soon, we spent time together. When it became 12 midnight, we went," Ye~y, It's Reiwa now~!"

Motodaka: That was special.

Sugeta: I took a screenshot of the time "0:00" that was displayed in my phone.

Motodaka: For me, I recorded the memory of us when it turned 12 midnight that day.

Sugeta: That was nostalgic~!

Motodaka: The next one is to describe in one word our relationship. Shall we it say at once!? Ready, set, go!

Sugeta: "Consultation partner!"

Motodaka: "Comrade!"...Aah (LOL).

Sugeta: When Rinne is not interactive, right? You always try to symphatize with me.

Motodaka: It is a situation where I'll be made to ask, "Did something happen?" You are little bit annoying type of person (LOL).

Sugeta: Fairly, I am easy to understand.

Motodaka: That makes me slightly sullen (LOL).

Sugeta: What do you mean by comrade?

Motodaka: After we each did different projects, we end up in the same unit.

Sugeta: I see. The 3rd question is about how much we watch each other's tv appearances. Let's answer in percentage. Is that good? Let's answer it?

Motodaka: Ready, set, go..."80%"!

Sugeta: "90%"! That was close ~! Rinne records the quiz shows every week. Since I also want to try appearing in tv shows, so I watch shows that I have the possibility to appear in. I almost watch all of the shows where Katsuki appear too.

Motodaka: Me too, more than the shows where I appear, I overwhelmingly watch more shows where Rinne appear than mine. But I can't watch it in real time so I answered "80%".

Sugeta: Rinne watch the shows multiple times because Rinne loves appearing in shows.

Motodaka: I watch shows where I think I did good in recording.

Sugeta: Certainly! I think if I'm not in good shape during the recording, I will not watch it that much. By the way, I still watch my appearance in 「SASUKE」until now (LOL). Everyone watched it during the rehearsal for ARASHI-san's concert, right?

Motodaka: That was exciting~!

Sugeta: I watch with my family Katsuki's appearance in quiz shows. When Rinne got the right answer even though Katsuki didn't, I noisily go, "Why didn't Katsuki got it right?" (LOL).

Motodaka: That's natural for a quiz show. It's tough but that's my fate...

SASAKI TAIKO x KONNO TAIKI

CLEANING AFTER TAIKO CHALLENGE...

Konno: Our best memory, let's say our answers after the go signal! "Fireworks in Odaiba."

Sasaki: "Amusement park!" Ah~that one~ (LOL). The one where we watched fireworks!!

Konno: That was around 4-5 years ago already, right?

Sasaki: That was close to the end of summer.

Konno: Yabana, me, Sakuchan (Sakuma Ryuto) and you (Taiko) were there.

Sasaki: The fireworks were really beautiful. We could see it from the restaurant. Although it is a beautiful memory, it didn't come to my mind~!

Konno: Well, the amusement park is also a good memory. (Takahashi) Yuto and (Iwasaki) Taisho were there too. Everyone went to places like haunted house, it was really fun~(LOL).

Sasaki: There was a collaboration with 「Kurosaki-kun no Iinari ni Nante Naranai」right at that time. I wanted to ride Kurosaki-kun's gondola no matter what so I rode the ferris wheel around 3 times. That was fun~.

Konno: Next, "Describe in one word your relationship." Ready, set, go..."close friends!"

Sasaki: "Consulatation partner!" Well, we said 2 different things but they mean the same thing.

Konno: Yeah. Since we are always together, our trust with each other is not just on the shallow level.

Sasaki:  Even the things that I can't tell to other people, I talk about those with Konpi (Konno). I generally give positive advices to Konpi. When he consults to me saying, "I want to try this but...," I reply, "I think that's great." I think that we won't know the result until we try it so it is better to freely do it.

Konno: For the last question, with the theme that's only for us 2, "What is the best Taiko Challenge episode?" Let's match our answers time.

Sasaki: Okay. Ready, set, go!

Konno and Sasaki: "Shampoo!" Ye~y! (High five)

Konno: That is a masterpiece.

Sasaki: It has the most number of likes and plays.

Konno: The one with cola is also good but if it's the best, then it's gotta be the content with shampoo.

Sasaki: The content with cola became known but even I myself think that the content with shampoo is a masterpeiece. I planned that 2 weeks before the filming. I thought that I'll do that on my birthday. And then, Akarui Tonikaku-san did that in the variety show.

Konno: What a timing (LOL).

Sasaki: I was troubled, "Uwa, seriously! It overlaps with my plan!", but since I wanted to do it so I took the risk and did it.

Konno: Well, that is the best. I like the part where you poured the water to yourself, but what happened to your room?

Sasaki: It got wet. In Johnny's stages, when we use water, the water flows into the orchestra pit (a space that is lower than the main stage), but in my house there's no such system like that!

Konno: AHAHAHA!

Sasaki: That's why with a drainer similar to the one used in cleaning the windows, I cleaned the room by making the water flow into the veranda. Cleaning the mess afterwards was miserable (LOL).

RECENT HAPPENINGS

Sugeta Rinne: I can now do 70kg of bench press! I thought of doing a bench press that is about my weight, but I am happy that I was able to do 10 more kilos from my weight. Since I still do 3 reps x 3 sets, so I want to increase the number.

Motodaka Katsuki: There are also 4th year undergraduates in the graduate school seminar. It was my first time meeting them recently, and I feel excited that they're my juniors. Until now, there are seniors that I am close with, but I don't have a junior who is close with me. I wonder if they'll be close with me!?

Nakamura Reia: My dad gave me the latest game console for my birthday. The controller is amazing that the vibration changes when the character is walking in grassy place and when the character is walking in soil. I don't have that much games for it yet but I want to play with it a lot.

Yabana Rei: A little while ago, I went to watch Rinne's 「Hidamari no Ki」(the show ended) in Osaka. I wasn't able to go in Tokyo shows but it was really popular so I really had to see it. I also watched Sexy Zone's concert the next day, it was a fulfilling trip.

Konno Taiki: When I'm at home or when I'm on the move, I only listen to western music. In someway or another, it looks like I have a phase for Japanese music and western music, and now I am into western music. I keep repeating the songs that I like more than broadening the songs that I know. There are a lot of songs by male artists [that I listen to].

Sasaki Taiko: I have fully mastered the stores in the suburbs of Tokyo that sell in large quantities!  Depending on the store, the proportion varies and that excites me~. For example, 800 yen for 24 bottles 500 mL of water, there are great deals and it is super fun. I also bought toilet paper that I split with my friend.

[god-fucking-dammit-mizutani]

Title: Bring the Sun (Chapter 2) Word Count: 19,448 Summary: Koushirou expects to spend the whole engagement party in the company of his close friends, if possible, but things don't go entirely as plan. 

Happy Odaiba Day!!

Part 1 Here Continue Below or Read in Full on AO3

~*~

“It’s  so cold,” Miyako complains, already turning the direct fan on the dashboard in front of her up and away. She adjusts the one in the center as well, flipping it away from herself so that it streams straight down the middle of the van. Koushirou feels the concentrated jet of air along his arm where he rests it on the center console between them. Miyako huffs a little, shouldering herself further away until she’s practically up against the side door. The residual, muggy temperature from that afternoon's heat spell lingers in the air, invited in to mingle with the chill from the air conditioner when Miyako cracks the window on her side open.

“It needs to be cold,” Mimi explains. A hollow thumping follows her declaration. Koushirou catches her lightly smacking the tupperware on the seat beside her through his rearview mirror. If he remembers correctly, it’s the one filled with the cupcakes Mimi had ordered him to ice for her just that morning. 

“Nothing’s going to spoil in ten minutes,” Miyako shoots back. She lifts herself up in her seat, straining against the confines of her seat belt in order to sit closer to the fresh, less cool air. Koushirou wonders if it’s working. “But  I might lose a limb to frostbite.”

“It’s not just the ten minutes,” Mimi protests with an indignant sniff, whacking the tupperware container again. Koushirou really hopes the frosting is safe, both because of all of the time he lost that could have been spent on finishing up some of his own projects, and also because he knows Mimi will be inconsolable if they’re not still  perfect. “It's going to be a while before people start eating . I did not put food poisoning on my menu.” 

“That’s why they invented coolers,” Miyako volleys back. There’s a beat before she whips around in her chair, looking back at Mimi between the headrest and car door, “So wait, anyway, you know about Iori’s great aunt—”

Mimi gasps, “That’s right! She’s the one with—”

“Absolutely, get this—”

Koushirou rolls his eyes, making sure to train them back forward on the road as he turns into the entrance for The Cove. He thinks they’re onto their fourth half-finished conversation of the evening, but he’s already given up on following along. Years of their friendship has taught Koushirou to not engage when they’re both this giddy. All he’ll get for trying to keep up is whiplash. 

Even with just the sliver of Miyako’s window open, the smell of salt water permeates throughout the car, mingling with the intense scent of Mimi’s homemade cooking. It must be low tide. Koushirou wrinkles his nose, wondering if he’ll be able to stomach a single thing. 

He follows the winding paths down towards the little beach front, past the recreational fields where children are still chasing each other along the designated pavement with scooters and rollerblades. Dusk is already settling along the farshore, pinks blending in with the gold of the sun, and soon the park will be shut down to all non-licensed activity. On habit, Koushirou turns the headlights on, barely just illuminating one of the signs telling him to turn right onto the dirt road to continue to their destination, rather than on towards the designated picnic area. It’s a narrow road, barely large enough to accommodate his mother’s van he burrowed for tonight’s purposes. His hands shake minutely, hoping no one else is leaving from the opposite direction, as he’s not quite sure how they’ll pass him. 

Miraculously, no one does. The parking lot is barren save for a few wrappers littering the pavement. Miyako’s already jumping out of the car before Koushirou’s fully parked between barely there white lines, exclaiming, “Hallelujah! Finally blowing this literal popsicle joint!” 

Koushirou catches Mimi’s fond smile in the rearview mirror, and feels his lips mimicking the sentiment. 

Miyako’s already waiting for them at the trunk, sitting along the bumper until Koushirou motions for her to move so they can collect their belongings. She grabs quickly for a stack of colorful tupperware, tucking the top one under the point of her chin to keep them all from toppling over onto the pavement. Koushirou pulls out one of the wheeled coolers, letting it roll off the bumper and  thunk  heavily on the ground to Mimi's blatant displeasure. 

“There’s glass in there,” she hisses, but Koushirou doesn’t really know what she expects of him at this point. Blunt strength is not,  well  , one of his strengths. Mimi presses the button on the block handle of the cooler and extends it until she’s able to tug the white, wheeled container closer to her side. Koushirou places a box labeled  votive candles onto the back and assures her he can handle the tables on his own. 

“Hey,” Miyako calls to Mimi from the bottom of the hill, already engaging her back into  one of their conversations with a, “Did you know that Yamato—” before the wind picks up the rest of their conversation. All he can hear is Mimi’s loud shriek of, “What!”

Unloading the tables isn’t a terrible task since, when they’re closed, leaves Koushirou with distinct handles. The plastic is easy to handle, but the metal bars strain his grip as he shuffles them out of the trunk, careful not to scratch the paint  too harshly as he pulls them down enough to lean against his leg so he can close the door. It wouldn’t do if they got robbed blind. He takes the tables back in each hand and begins the arduous task of trying to handle them as he waddles towards the end of the parking lot, which gives way to a long slope of shells and pebbles and dirt, right into the actual makeup of the beach.

Koushirou stalls for a moment, taking in the sight of it. 

The designated event section has the largest pocket of beach at  the Cove.  It’s usually opened to the public unless a notice of events has been put up. Koushirou eyes the little bulletin board, the bright yellow paper declaring,  Private Event: Engagement Party; June 12th; After hours. He smiles at it for a brief second before he looks over towards the beach just below him. 

Cove  is a misnomer. It’s more of an estuary, but Koushirou can’t fight the city on it more than he already has, so he let’s the thought roll right out of his head as he breathes in the sea air again. A little  too much. He hopes the eventual smell of smoke and alcohol will choke out the unappetizing stench. Koushirou wrinkles his nose. Was he growing accustomed to this lifestyle now? 

“Koushirou!” Mimi calls to him, standing along the cleanest, most level part of land, just before the thick dirt gives way to the unstable sand. She clicks the handle of the cooler all the way down, beckoning him over and  oh right, he realizes, he’s got the fold up tables they need to start prepping. 

Mimi has a practiced hand with opening them, with all those years of catering under her belt. Miyako rushes back to the car at Mimi's request, to grab the box of linens she'd had Koushirou pick up from her storage facility earlier that morning. He follows Miyako back up the hill, to grab the folding chairs they'd brought along, strapping two across his back and holding the other one in his arms. For convenience he grabs the final table from the trunk and pulls it along by the handle.

It's a mistake. 

He doesn't know how he makes it without toppling head first and somersaulting the whole way down. 

"We could have gone back for those," Miyako tells him far too late.

Koushirou doesn't know what to do with his hands as Mimi hems and haws over the finer details of dressing the plastic tables up with ivory skirts. It's got a lovely pattern too, some Damascus overlay in a darker ivory, just barely popping out against its similar colored backdrop. Koushirou thinks it's a shame when the real festivities pick up, such a fine nuance will be hidden by the lack of lighting.

Over Mimi's head, his eyes roam the endless structure of barely unclimbable rocks. They incave the beach on either side. Koushirou spent some of his youth here, when his mother had taken him with her for a personal beach day, scraping his hands on barnacles, callusing the bottom of his feet, all in the name of studying the local marine life in the tide pools once the sea had gone back out. Koushirou smiles at the memory. Before computers, he had thought taxonomy would be his calling. 

When Mimi finishes with the first table, Miyako digs around into the still unopened cardboard box, pulling up a small, fake candle in each hand. She smiles at Koushirou asking, “Want to help me set these up?”

Koushirou smiles back, unsure. 

He tries placing them in what feel symmetrical to every one that Miyako puts down, but it feels like every time he walks away, Mimi comes up behind him to straighten them out and replace each one. She’s rearranging his last votive when someone shouts down toward them from the top of the parking lot. 

Daisuke waves enthusiastically at their little group before taking the plunge down the slope, kicking up dust and shells with the velocity of his footwork and the large cooler trailing behind him. He almost takes a tumble across one particularly stubborn cluster of beach debris, but rights himself without missing speed. Koushirou wonders if that’s something they teach you in college soccer just as Daisuke narrows in on their location. 

Mimi yelps as he reaches for her first, easily lifting her above the ground as she giggles out her own greeting, squeezing her arms around Daisuke’s head. In the breeze the offensively pink tassels of her coat’s sleeves rustle, shielding his head as if they were a curtain. He rights her back on the flats of her sandals and wryly Koushirou wonders how long Mimi will keep them on before she shuffles them off to some unknown corner of the beach, possibly to be swallowed up by the brackish waves. 

Koushirou doesn’t really know how to greet him, so he offers Daisuke a small smile when their eyes meet. They’ve only met a handful of times so he doesn’t know if that makes them acquaintances or friends. He wonders if Daisukes even considers him in his sphere of people and swallows, suddenly feeling like he shouldn’t really be here. 

His trepidations don’t last long as Daisuke envelopes him in a hug instead, calling him, “Iz-man!” 

It’s nice, Koushirou thinks, trying to relax against the tight grip around his midsection, arms pinned to his side, that Daisuke has a nickname for him. Or at least partially remembered some part of his name. It’s that, or the bear hug, making his head dizzy. But he does, actually, think it’s charming. 

“Congratulations, Daisuke,” Koushirou offers up when he can breathe again. 

“Thanks, man,” he gets in return. His grin is a thousand watts bright and it makes Koushirou think of a different one, a little more tamed but no less bright, and he feels uncharacteristically restless. 

Koushirou frowns. Much like Miyako, Daisuke knows  everyone.  At least, everyone knows  him . An infuriatingly symmetrical smile flashes in his mind, and he wonders how vast Daisuke’s pool of people reaches. 

He’s forgotten all week to ask Miyako for the stranger’s name, but now that he’s remembering it doesn’t feel appropriate when Daisuke pulls her into a tight hug as well, promising her into a round of shots later in the evening. He should have let Mimi ask one of them on his behalf back when she had offered, instead of insisting it would feel more organic to ask on his own. 

“You really outdid yourself, Mimi,” Daisuke whistles as she begins pulling even more tupperware out of a reusable grocery bag and a couple silver chargers to dress the tables. “I’m kind of glad Ken talked me out of the ramen stand idea. It looks so good.”

Koushirou can attest to that last bit. He’d been the guinea pig back when Mimi was putting the menu together, and the volunteer when she had needed someone to sample each batch as it came out of the oven this morning. 

Mimi leans over her work, moving some of the hors d'oeuvres out around on the platter to get them to look more presentable. Her curls slips over her shoulder, obscuring her face, but Koushirou can make out the pleased flush she’s sporting. He smiles.

“It tastes amazing!” Miyako says, suddenly beside Koushirou. She props her arm up on his shoulder like it belongs there. “Because I helped her cook all day!”

Daisuke wrinkles his nose. “So you ruined Mimi’s cooking on  my special day.”

“Hey!”

“Miyako is a great assistant,” Mimi comes to her defense, lifting her own head high again. “And her family was nice enough to donate most of the ingredients.”

Miyako grins as if she’s won, crossing one of her legs over the other and leaning deeper into Koushriou’s personal space. He thinks there might only be an inch separating them by height now, but Koushirou’s certain that makes all the difference to her. Since she gained a few inches on him early on in high school, Miyako has  never let him live it down.

“Anyone want a beer?” Daisuke wonders, lifting the lid of his own cooler. He pops a cap of one off with the bottle opener keychain Koushirou had bought for him as a Secret Santa present, at the party Miyako had hosted last year. She’d insisted he would love it and Koushirou’s chest swells with pride that it is, in some way, useful to him. 

“Later,” Miyako decides for both of them. “We’re gonna go stake a claim at the bonfire,” she relays. 

Miyako pushes one of the camping chair bags against his thigh, smiling back at him. Koushirou takes it from her, noticing the bright blue strap already fastened over her bright pink sweater, a vibrant contrast already to the bright orange binding tape along the fabric’s edges. Koushirou doesn’t know much about fashion, but somehow Miyako pulls off the oddly bright colors. Mimi always tuts that she missed her chances of making it big as a model, but Koushirou’s glad he’s got her around the office, sending him barely work appropriate emails and gossiping about their less than appetizing co-workers. 

“I’m driving,” Koushirou adds in helplessly, taking the chair from Miyako’s grip.

“You’re always driving,” Daisuke complains, tipping back his drink. “Next time I’m gonna get you to do shots with me,” he tells Koushirou with a very blatant pointing motion.

Koushirou smiles back politely. It’s a slim to none likelihood, but telling Daisuke those statistics will either fire him up, or dampen his mood— and Koushirou just doesn’t think he can do that tonight  of all nights. 

“I’d love to,” Mimi throws in, “but I can’t until after I put out the dessert.” 

Daisuke groans. “You’ll have to make up all that time,” he’s telling Mimi as Miyako drops her arm from Koushirou’s shoulder and easily loops it through his own arm, tugging at him gently. 

“Let’s go get close to the fire so we can have a front row view when all the drunks start falling in.”

“You’re going to be one of those drunks if Daisuke has anything to say,” Koushirou snickers back, allowing Miyako to lead the way. She shushes him, reaching for their third seat as they pass by it, leaning up against the buffet table. 

Towards the center of the beach someone has jammed four stakes into a large square with tape looped about each pole, framing a small hill of dry wood. Koushirou breathes in. At least tonight when he inevitably left to his own devices, he’ll be able to hide his boredom by watching the crackle of a roaring fire. 

He had meant to do just that last time, Koushirou remembers, before that had been welcomely thwarted. He doubts he’ll be quite so lucky this time. Koushirou wonders if people-watching is a solo event, if it can even be fun with just his own imagination to bounce off.

It’s weird, Koushirou thinks, to miss someone he can’t even place a name to. 

Which reminds him, “Hey, Miyako?”

She hums distractedly, dropping the two chairs on the sand to hold her hands up in an odd rectangle, surveying the scene between her thumbs and humming again, this one with less intent to acknowledge him. She takes a step forward, and then a large sidestep to the right, as if she were performing the box step for his entertainment. “Aha!” she exclaims finally, leaning over to grab for her chair without compromising her current position. Koushirou pushes it towards her with the heel of his foot.

He unfastens the drawstrings around his own chair and shimmies the fabric down to reveal the deep purple canvas seat. They used them a lot back in high school, when the old drive-in movie theatre would host a collection of nostalgic movies. He misses when they used to marathon Star Trek with subtitles, and he and Jyou and Miyako and Iori would spend the ride home discussing their favorite episodes, arguing over which roles they would have on the  Enterprise if given the chance to explore space. 

“The perfect spot~!” Miyako lilts, looking quite pleased with herself as she plops into the chair to enjoy the view she’d spent so much time scouting.

“I was wondering about your house party,” Koushirou begins when she finally prompts him to continue. Miyako watches him with her head tilted slightly. Sunset drapes lovingly over the purple hue of her hair. “There was—”

“Yo,” Daisuke calls once more, jogging his way up to meet them with another wide smile. “Can’t wait ‘til we light this thing!” He says, jumping the distance towards them, his arm sweeping wide and pointed towards the designated section, just in case there were any doubts. 

Koushirou’s not sure if his lips are frowning or smiling. Perhaps both.

“What happened?” Miyako asks, pulling the second chair up towards herself to undo the fastening without having to stand back up. “Thought you were goading Mimi into drinking.”

“She shooed me away,” Daisuke pouts. “Said I was fucking with her muse.” 

Miyako snorts. A moment later she notices, “I haven't seen your better half yet. Where's Ken?”

“He had to pick up some extra supplies and he’s gonna grab Jun from work.” 

Miyako stares pointedly at the beer Daisuke is already tipping back again. When he notices he lets out a huff, “He dropped me off first. Jun’s going to drive us home.” 

Koushirou busies himself with wiping leftover sand off the seat of the chair.  It's fine , he reminds himself. What would he even do with just a name?

"Hey!" Daisuke shouts. "What did you mean  better half ?" 

"It's an  expression,"  Miyako exhales in a way that sounds long-suffering. To Koushirou she adds, “But it’s not  wrong  in this case  .” 

He snorts. 

Daisuke makes an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat before he manages to make the accusation, “You’re just jealous!” He points at Miyako with the hand still mostly holding onto his beer bottle. She scowls back. 

“Of  what?” Miyako asks, standing to her feet. There’s not much of a difference between her and Daisuke, but Koushirou imagines she still makes an intimidating figure, hands on her hips and lips pursed as they were. 

“That Ken—” 

“That I what?” Ken interrupts them. Koushirou bristles in surprise along with his company, none of them having noticed their approaching friend. He watches Daisuke with a passive inquisitiveness, arms filled with long, wooden poles. Citronella torches, Koushirou realizes. 

“Uh,” Daisuke starts. His cheeks darken, eyes meeting Koushirou’s as if he half expects to find the answer with him. Koushirou stares back. 

“Nevermind,” Ken gives a short, airy little laugh. He shrugs his arms towards their group, adjusting the burden within them, and asks sheepishly, “Could one of you give me a hand setting these up?”

“Sure,” Miyako offers easily, lifting at least two of them from his arms. She carries them like two long staffs and Koushirou has to bite his tongue from declaring, “ You shall not pass! ” 

Miyako smiles brightly as Ken leans in to give her a quick kiss on her cheek in greeting with a gratuitous, “Thank you, Miyako!” 

“Hey!” Daisuke wails immediately, stepping forward between them. “What’s the big idea?” He turns on Ken, “You’re  my fiance!” 

“That I am,” Ken responds, mildly. Koushirou feels the air between them soften, watches as the heat in Daisuke’s expression melts, a long, dopey smile growing in its place, as if the words have just struck him. Ken returns it. 

“I’ll take these,” Koushirou offers after a moment, stepping around his chair to pull the last few torches from Ken’s grasp. For a moment he looks at Koushirou as if he had forgotten he were there at all. He’s not sure if it’s insulting, or endearing. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, his grip loosening around the rest of them. Koushirou manages to lay them across his own arms. “I wanted to set them up at the buffet table,” he explains, shooting Koushirou a gracious smile. “Thank you.”

“Indubitably,” Koushirou answers. He tries and cannot stop himself from adding, “And no kiss required.” 

Miyako laughs behind him, nodding her head and telling them, “Lets get them set up before everyone else gets here.” 

“I’ll light them!” Daisuke volunteers, running off before them to presumably acquire the lighter. Ken follows quickly on his heels, smiling over his shoulder at the two of them before quickly catching up to his fiance. 

“It’s like I adopted another brother sometimes,” Miyako lets out a long breath when they’re finally alone, rolling her eyes. She wrinkles her nose, “Does that mean my ex-boyfriend is now my brother-in-law?”

Koushirou laughs. 

“I’m really happy for them,” Miyako confesses on their walk over, her feet stepping to an unhurried beat. The edge of one of the torches smacks gently against Koushirou’s knee. He doesn’t bother to mention it, picking up his pace minutely to avoid another soft whack. Miyako makes a soft hum and continues, “In high school I thought Ken and I would work, because we were so similar, but I like them together,” she admits, her smile sincere. 

Koushirou follows her eyes, watching as the two bump back and forth into each other, almost as if they’re racing without running. He can’t stop his own smile. It’s nice to see Ken like this, he thinks. Happy looks nice on him. 

“It’s like they compliment each other, you know?”

“What’s taking so long!” Daisuke calls back to them, waving his arm over his head wildly. “Everyone’s gonna be here soon!”

“We have important cargo!” Miyako fires back, waving one of the sticks at him. Despite her words, Koushirou notices her pace quicken, his legs taking longer steps to keep up with her before it feels like they’re lightly sprinting towards an end goal together. He tries to hide how deep his next few breaths are. 

“They just have to be fairly even,” Ken instructs them as Miyako hands her second one off to Daisuke. With a concentrated effort, she successfully stakes the first of the citronella torches into the ground, kicking a healthy amount of sand up and over the base to keep it upright. “So,” Ken trails off, taking a few steps back, carefully shuffling his feet along to keep the line, “right here,” he decides, rubbing the tip of his sneakers into the ground. Koushirou pierces the marked earth with his own torch, handing the other one off to Ken who paces back further to set it up. 

Miyako finishes off with the last one as Daisuke comes down the line, lighting each of the frayed wicks. Black smokes circles along the torches head, dispelling the lovely scent of citronella and lemongrass. It masks some of the low tide, to Koushirou’s delight. 

“You have such exquisite taste,” Mimi gushes. Koushirou looks behind himself and sees the newest member of their team already organizing items onto the table. He needs very little contextual clues to deduce that she is, in fact, Daisuke Motomiya’s sister, from her bright grin, to the wild, cherry-brown of her hair.

“I’ve always had an eye for design,” she tells Mimi, empathetically. She pulls several shells from a plastic bag, laying them carefully between every platter and the votive candles they’d placed earlier. 

“I’m Jun!” she introduces herself when she catches Koushirou’s stare. She has the same high energy most people around Koushirou seem to just  exude. He wonders if, perhaps, he’s an extrovert magnet. Koushirou smiles back politely as Jun explains, without needing to, “I’m Daisuke’s sister!” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Koushirou says. “I’m Koushirou,” he adds a beat too late. Jun doesn’t seem to notice, already heading down the line of the table to place more shells. 

Koushirou looks down. He is no stranger to shame, and yet every social event has him feeling as if it is their first time becoming acquainted.  

Miyako passes in front of him, placing something new atop the table. From the back, it looks like a photo frame. She gives Koushirou a brief, assuring smile as she continues down along, placing smaller looking frames bundled against her chest. He plucks the object from it’s placement on the table. 

Koushirou admires the frame first. It’s simple, with wooden, engraved flowers sitting in each of the four corners. It makes the colors within the actual photograh pop, the mirth on both Daisuke and Ken’s faces palpable and stark where their hands are clasped together, the gold bands of their engagement rings small, yet bright. Koushirou thinks he might have seen it before, among their engagement photos on one of Mimi’s social media accounts. 

“Hikari took it,” Ken tells him suddenly, peering at it over Koushirou’s shoulder. His smile is more subdued than inside the picture, but no less happy. “She’s one of Daisuke’s friends from middle school,” Ken explains further.

“Well, Hikari has a lovely eye,” Mimi adds on her way past them, placing tongs and silverware next to each charger.

Hikari. Koushirou frowns. He knows the name. Perhaps Daisuke had mentioned her in the few times they had met. 

But it’s not Daisuke’s timbre in his memories. 

He places the frame back on the table in its designated spot for the evening, facing away from them both. 

“I’m really grateful, Koushirou,” Ken says softly, still beside him. Koushirou looks up, but Ken has his eyes trained on the white tablecloth instead. His gaze is too steady to be searching for the almost invisible patterns.

“I haven’t been of much help,” Koushirou feels. "Mimi put most of this together."

"That isn't wasn't I meant,” Ken says quietly. “I'm just grateful you would be here. As my friend." His pale skin is an honest canvas, the bright red on his cheeks so easily perceptible. 

Koushirou thinks his cheeks might be a perfect mirror. This directness must be a side effect from spending too much time with Daisuke. It's not an adverse one, he decides. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Koushirou admits, hiding his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants. He doesn’t know how his chest manages to feel so light, yet so heavy simultaneously. 

“Let’s get some food before everyone else gets here,” Miyako jumps up behind them, throwing her arms over both of their shoulders. Her grip is tight, but not unpleasant, where it slips and sits around Koushirou’s neck. “Come on,” she pushes, grabbing for both of their hands and tugging gently. 

“I still have a few things to attend to,” Ken says, apologetically, letting his fingers slip through hers. “But you both enjoy your time,” he tells them politely. 

“You’re still obligated to hang out with us,” Miyako says, making a show of pointing at Ken as she walks backwards, still dragging Koushirou along with her, “I won’t let  schmoozing be an excuse, you hear me!” 

“Louder than Daisuke,” Ken replies. “And crystal clear.” 

“What does that  mean?”  Daisuke calls from the farther end of the table, holding an entire box of  something for Mimi and Jun to rummage through. "What is with everyone tonight!"

The rest of their banter gets swallowed by the wind as he follows Miyako over to the coolers. She fishes out a bottle of a bright, almost enticing drink that Koushirou knows better than to test. He manages to find one of the few water bottles after shifting through mountains of aluminum and glass. 

The chill from the plastic bottles bites him even through the fabric of his shirt when Koushirou tucks it under his arm so he can use both hands to fill up his plate. He smiles, remembering how appalled Mimi had been, when Ken wouldn't budge on the practicalities of paper at the beach, just because fine china  would  look nicer. 

"I'll get half of everything," Miyako conspires with him, already scooping a large portion of wasabi potato salad onto her plate, "if you get the other half and we'll share." 

"Deal," Koushirou decides, taking a healthy portion of bruschetta off it's platter with tongs.

Over the hill by the parking lot, someone calls out to their group again. Koushirou looks up in time to see another woman standing atop one of the dunes, a camera pressed over her face as a light flashes along the top of it. She pulls it back to, presumably, check the digital screen. 

Koushirou’s heart stutters. He thinks, maybe, he recognizes her. He sucks a breath in as the tip of another person’s head crests over the hill—

But he has no idea who the other man is. 

"I'm glad we didn't miss this lighting," the woman says on a relieved breath out as she joins their party around the buffet table. She takes a quick photo of some of the trays and Koushirou feels ashamed for having taken part in ruining Mimi's masterful plating. 

"Hikari!" Daisuke shouts, waving at her from still further down the beach. It looks like he's been bathed in wires—fairy lights, Koushirou guesses. "T.M!" He calls out next. Koushirou presses down on his lips to keep from chuckling as Mimi and Jun try desperately to tame his arm, for the sake of the lights. 

"I'm gonna go see if I can help out there," the new guy says with a long smile, tilting his head over in the other direction. His white bucket hat falls over one of his eyes, but he doesn't seem at all bothered to fix it. "Then I'll get us a place at the fire,” he tells Hikari, indicating to the two chairs in both of his arms.

"Alright," the girl—Hikari— answers, but she seems more invested in her photography, squatting down before the table. Koushirou catches a small peek of the digital display, of the water and the sunset captured just over the edge of the fine set-up.

"Hikari!" Miyako squeals when she notices the other woman, dropping her plate on the table long enough to envelope her in a full body hug. Hikari doesn't return it where her hands still keep a grasp on her camera, arms pushed up against her chest in Miyako's embrace, but she looks no less gleeful. 

"Have you met Koushirou?" Miyako asks offhand, reaching for the very last item to complete their smorgasbord. 

Hikari's eyes light up when she trains them on him and Koushirou feels his cheeks burn under the attention. "Not formally," she says, sending him a half smile. She reaches over in front of Miyako, offering her hand. "I'm Hikari." 

"Koushirou," he says needlessly. Hikari drops her hand the moment her eyes notice that his own are quite full. Koushirou feels the color drain from his face. He should have put his plate down, he realizes.

"You and Takeru should come sit with us," Miyako offers, popping a cocktail shrimp into her mouth and throwing the tail out in the nearby receptacle. 

"Sure," Hikari says, her eyes drifting over towards her friend. He's got their chairs still propped up against his hip, chatting amicably with Daisuke and Ken as Mimi and Jun bustle around them. "I think Takeru's trying to get some time in before Daisuke's too inebriated." 

She shares a knowing look with Miyako. 

"Just come by whenever," she says and to Koushirou she tilts her head towards their destination and urges him to, "let's go. I'm starving."

Back at their seats, Miyako fills in him on her side of things at work, the gossip he'd missed since they last went out to lunch, and Koushirou feels, minutely, comfortable in her companionship as they knock their knees together like a makeshift table, so they can pick from each other's plates and laugh. 

"I wish Iori had decided to come anyway," Miyako laments, frowning as she scoops some of the seven layered dip from Koushirou's plate with a chip.  "I know he doesn't want to be around the,” she pauses, “ temptation,”  she finishes. “But  still. "

"Ken tried to change the date until after his birthday," Koushirou mentions. "But then Mimi would have—" he cuts himself off there and Miyako sends him a tempered smile and agrees with a quiet, "I know."

As the sun drops below the offing, so with it does the temperature. Koushirou finds himself going back to the car for the hoodie he had brought  in case , huddling over himself in the chair. Miyako seems less affected, already working down her second wine cooler. 

Chairs begin to dot the landscape around them, other guests filing in. Some of them come over to greet Miyako, a few staying for a while to talk. Koushirou doesn't know where to look. Sometimes he chances to glance up, and hopes he'll recognize a face.

He never does.

Koushirou almost wishes he had chosen to risk sand in his hard drive. He almost contemplates going for seconds, even though he's still stuffed from lunch, just for the sake of having something to do with his hands, his eyes, his mind. 

He's grateful when Mimi finally ambles her way over and takes the empty seat beside him. “It has been a  day, ” she crows, but the long smile on her perfectly pink lips speaks volumes. Koushirou wonders if she’s been draped in much due praise over her cooking all this while. 

Waves clatter along the shore, as if joining into their chatter. It’s becoming more and more difficult to discern where the beach ends and the sea begins. A few couples have begun pacing along where Koushirou assumes is the shoreline, the silhouette of their shoes clutched in their shadowed hands. He’s wondering when they’ll proceed with the highlight of the evening when Daisuke barrels between his and Mimi’s chairs, the very tip of his shoe disturbing the cup of soda she had placed between them as he skips by proclaiming, “Let’s get this thing lit!” 

Between them the dark, sugary beverage bubbles and fizzes in the sand. Mimi frowns at the tilted cup. 

“At least it didn’t get on one of us,” she concludes after a moment of mourning, lifting the cup from the sand just as Ken filters between them, less hurried. 

He mouths an apology back towards their group, before he follows his fiance along. “I thought you wanted to wait for Taichi?” 

Daisuke huffs, ducking beneath one of the ropes. “He said he’s not coming—” is all Koushirou hears before the rest of his sentence gets swallowed under new guests arriving. 

It is evident to Koushirou whose idea the bonfire had been. He presses his smile into the palm of his hand, watching as Daisuke lifts the can of fuel from its hiding space, making a show of throwing it along the kindling. Ken offers him a lighter from his pocket, the two of them burning what appears to be stuffed egg cartons before tossing them into the fire. 

“Candle wax and recycled paper,” Ken explains when they’ve cleared the area, standing on either side of their group. “I read that egg cartons ignite well.” 

Slowly flames begin to lick up from the ground, climbing and circling the wood as it rises. Koushirou does not have words to explain the sound of the fire catching, but it is as magnificent as it is terrifying, as if they had captured a ferocious dragon and confined it to a cage. Koushirou cannot look away even as Daisuke crosses in front of him, to seek out the hand of his partner. For the longest while, there is nothing but the sound of silence and fire, each of the spectators as marveled as their group. Soon it is broken by a group of cheering, the jubilation spreading as swiftly as the flames had. Even Koushirou finds himself unable to escape it, sending several quick claps into the air before his hands feel too exhausted to continue. 

“It’s quite pretty,” he hears Ken saying. 

“Not as pretty as you,” Daisuke follows up. It sounds like he means it, which is worse, and Koushirou coughs into his hand to hide his personal embarrassment. 

Miyako, less discrete and more inebriated, shouts, “Get a room!” over Koushirou’s head. Mimi dissolves into a fit of laughter and even Koushirou can only hold back so much, his shoulders trembling with the force of his own chortling. 

“You guys are the worst,” Daisuke decides with fond exasperation in his timbre. 

“You love us,” Miyako drawls, “because we’re  family.” 

Family. 

Koushirou feels himself sober at the thought of it. He wonders if any of them consider him part of that and his cheeks feel as ignited as the flames.

Daisuke and Ken stay a bit later with them before several new guests walk by, pulling them into conversations Koushirou doesn’t even try to understand. Eventually they bid them farewell, with the  promise to talk later in the evening. 

“You better come back!” Miyako shouts at their backs. Koushriou thinks they’re too far away to hear anything.

“Jyou!” Mimi shouts at one point, waving her arms enthusiastically to presumably catch his attention. Koushirou looks up from his plate in time to see Jyou noticing their camp. 

“Hey guys!” He calls, stopping momentarily to allow a small group to cross over in front of him. “It’s hard to see anything.” 

His smile is the same as it has always been, genuine and unsure, and Koushirou finds himself grateful to see it even when Jyou looks absolutely apologetic. He comes to squat beside Koushirou’s chair after they exchange quick greetings, holding himself up by perching a hand along the arm rest. Koushirou tucks his elbow close to his side to accommodate him. 

“Sorry I missed you at Miyako’s,” he offers sheepishly. Koushirou can see licks of the pyre reflected in the glass of his spectacles. “By the time I actually saw you, it looked like you were,” Jyou pauses for a moment, swishing his mouth as he seems to grapple with the exact wording before deciding, “well, you looked like you were having fun and I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

Koushirou feels his own face color again. “Quite alright,” he tells Jyou, eyes flickering towards the fire briefly. “I am grateful to see you nonetheless.”

Jyou beams at him before his own gaze crawls back over to the bonfire. He frowns a moment later. “You know bonfires can be quite dangerous. We should probably move back about ten feet.” He explains, “For safety. Maybe twenty.”

“Nonsense,” Mimi groans. “We’re perfectly safe right here.”

After they settle further back, Miyako shifts the conversation towards more pleasant territory, which for Koushirou means  work.  Eventually it leads to Jyou sharing stories of his residency, up to his plans for the summer and into the next year. Koushirou thinks most of the details are for his benefit— surely he’s already shared them with Mimi and Miyako last week. Miyako excitedly shares her upcoming vacation before the New Year, an escape to warmer climates when the snow first starts to hit.

Mimi reaches for her spilled drink, frowning when her fingers come up with the empty plastic cup. “I’m going to get another drink,” she tells them all, pushing up to her feet. “Do you guys want anything?”

Koushirou shakes his head. “I’m quite sated,” he tells her. Mimi takes his empty plate, promising to toss it out on her way. 

“I’ve actually got to get going,” Jyou admits, wiping the sand off his pants legs as he too comes to stand up. He pulls his cellphone from his pocket just long enough to check the time. “I just meant to stop by to congratulate them, but I’ve got to head over to work now.” 

“Boo!” Miyako calls, cupping her hands over her mouth. 

“We’ll hang out more next time,” Jyou promises her even as Miyako continues to boo at him. “You too, Koushirou,” he adds, smiling back down at him. 

Koushirou can’t hold back one of his own. “Indubitably,” he agrees. “Enjoy your night,” he tells Jyou as the other man starts to leave, waving back at all of them until his figure is indiscernible among the rest of the shadows beyond the fire’s reach. 

“Bye Jyou!” Mimi calls out to him regardless, still waving enthusiastically. She turns back on the two of them, shaking her still empty cup and asks, “So, drinks? Food?”

“I’ll go with you, actually,” Miayko decides, struggling out of her chair with both of her hands still full. Koushirou eventually takes her mostly empty wine cooler until Miayko rights herself. “You don’t mind watching the stuff, Koushirou?” She stops to ask him. Koushirou hums in the positive as the two girls thank him. “Oh, so back to Iori’s aunt—” Miyako starts as they, too, become nothing more than shadows. 

Koushirou leans back in his seat. His neck feels cold where the fire light does not touch it, an odd contrast to how warm it feels when he leans in closer. He checks the time on his phone and frowns. It’s still quite early in the evening, but he already feels drained. Koushirou considers imploring Mimi to place out the cupcakes early so they can begin packing away the essential items and be one step closer to making it home. Or perhaps he can persuade her to let him leave early, if he promises to come back in time to pick her and Miyako up at the end of the event. 

He could feign a weak stomach, if needed.

Koushirou heaves out a long sigh, letting his eyes fully slip closed. 

Something taps along the canvas backing of his chair, a cool shadow passing over his face where the fire had still been keeping it warm. 

“Hey, you!” 

Koushirou startles at the proximity of the voice. Above him is a face he recognizes, from the dimpled smile to the untamed brown hair. 

“Mind if I sit with you?” He asks, gesturing towards the seat Mimi had once occupied. Dazed, Koushirou nods. His companion from last week’s party looks him over once and has the nerve to look disappointed when he notices, “You’re not in uniform tonight.” He gestures along his own neck until Koushirou remembers the gaudy keychain holder and snorts.

“Took a different car," Koushirou explains. He lifts an eyebrow at his companion, doing his best to seem actively concerned. "But if you'd like, I'm sure Mimi wouldn't mind lending you her lanyard for the night."

“No,” the man laughs, “I think it looks best on you.” He plops heavily into the seat and wonders, "So does that mean you're drinking tonight?" 

Koushirou looks down to the ground, where his still unopened bottle of water sits, waiting. "Still the," he stops, trying to remember the acronym that his companion had coined last week, "D.D." 

"Oh man," the guy whistles, rubbing his hands together for what Koushirou assumes is an attempt to warm them. He leans closer towards the fire. Light caresses gently along one of his cheeks as he sends a grin back in Koushirou's direction. "Is this a case of the short straw?" 

"It's more or less voluntary," Koushirou admits. "I'm not particular to drinking, so logically I make the best choice." 

"That's pretty cool of you," his companion says, genuinely smiling at him. Koushirou isn't sure if a single other person has come this close to calling him  cool  before, especially in response to his aversion to consuming alcohol  .  His cheeks feel anything  but  cool  , so he turns away, watching the fine sparks of embers bursting and popping before them, hoping the light of it will mask the color dawning on his face. Koushirou can still feel the other's eyes on him. “Oh,” he starts after a beat, “I’m Taichi, by the way.” 

“Taichi,” Koushirou repeats the name without meaning to. It feels nice on his tongue. When his eyes meet Taichi’s, the other is already grinning back at him and Koushirou tries his best to return it. “I’m Koushirou,” he adds in. 

"I'll remember that," Taichi promises with a short laugh. “So, uh, which side of the aisle do you fall on?” 

"Mostly Ken’s.” 

"Cool," Taichi nods. 

Silence passes between them before Koushirou ventures to ask, "How about yourself?" 

"I guess I kind of fall on both sides," Taichi decides, tilting his head so the light shifts briefly from one cheek to the other. "Daisuke and I have been friends forever, you know? He went to school with my little sister—"  Hikari , Koushirou's mind supplies "—and we were both really into soccer so I guess we kind of clicked." 

Taichi pulls a water bottle out from the pouch of his black hoodie, uncaps it, and scowls the second he tips it back. “Yuck,” he sticks out his tongue as if to drive home how truly disgusting he finds the drink. “Warm water is just the worst.”

“There’s water in the coolers,” Koushirou mentions. He reaches down for his own, fingers slipping over the condensation that’s formed around the plastic now that it’s been sitting out for so long. It is nowhere near as cold as it had been when Koushirou took it from the coolers, but he offers it towards Taichi, hoping it will be a better alternative. 

“Nah,” Taichi says, but Koushirou pushes it towards him once more. He smiles and asks, “You sure?” before taking the bottle from Koushirou’s grip. Taichi takes a few, long gulps out of the bottle and tells Koushirou, “Much better.” He frowns at the bottle he’d brought along with him. “I have no idea how long this has been in my car.” 

Koushirou considers the clues and ventures to guess, “You’re also the D.D. this evening?”

Taichi hums in affirmation as he places the two water bottles between their chairs, gently ripping the label off from one of them. Koushriou assumes this is to keep track of the less desired one. Taichi meets his eyes as he leans back up and says, "It somehow just ended up that way. My luck, I guess?" 

A couple pulls up somewhere to Koushirou's back, their chatter lending itself to the festivities around them. It is a stark contrast to the early evening that he had spent with his close friends. Most of these people are strangers. Koushirou hears the crackle of the fire, but the sound of waves has been lost to the evening now. 

"So how do you know Ken?" Taichi asks, reaching again for one of the water bottles.

"High school." Koushirou frowns, wishing his social sphere had been a little more diverse as he tells Taichi, "We met in computer club. We also attended the same undergrad." 

"Oh," Taichi says immediately, eyes cutting directly back towards Koushirou. "Are you still in school?" 

"I got my doctorate in computer engineering a couple of years ago," he confesses. Koushirou stares measuredly at the fire. His heart feels like it wants to escape his chest. 

"Oh," Taichi says again, this time with a careful slowness. Koushirou notices him cap the bottle, also slowly. He wonders if Taichi needs the time to make up an excuse, to get himself away from the brainiac buzzkill without sounding rude. Instead he wonders, "How old are you now?" 

"Twenty-four." 

Taichi whistles, the edges of his eyes slightly wider than Koushirou's come to know them. His heart picks up the pace, hammering away. His hands feel clammy. It shouldn't matter to him that this once, perhaps still is, stranger is off put by Koushirou's achievements. He should be used to it. It’s  fine. 

"I'll be twenty-six at the end of next month," Taichi says. He barks out a laugh. "You're something else," Taichi comments vaguely. Koushirou's too afraid to inquire as to what that  something is, so he looks over to the sea instead. Wind whips across his nose, a chill just outside the border of the fire's focus.

"Oh, anyway," Taichi continues after a short while. "You remember my friend Yamato, right? He's the entertainment tonight so we needed a big enough car to fit some of his set, which narrowed it down to me and Takeru. But see Daisuke used to like my kid sister, uh," Taichi hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching along the edge of the fire, as if searching her out. Koushirou wonders if he counts as a stranger now, or if knowing Taichi's name has sealed some sort of acquaintanceship. "I think you saw her at the party, right? Hikari." 

Ah. So he'd been right. Koushirou can't stop the self congratulatory smile crawling on the edges of his lips. 

"Well she's super close with Takeru, grew up together and stuff, so even though Daisuke's got Ken now he's never fully warmed up to Takeru. Jealousy, you know? Anyway when he gets drunk he's always kind of picking on the guy." 

There are a lot of actors, but Koushirou does his best to follow, watching the way Taichi's eyes brighten with no assistance of the pyre, relaying bits of his life so easily. 

"...And," Taichi trails off there, catching Koushirou's stare with his own curious gaze. "What?" He asks. 

"Nothing, you're still—" Koushirou pauses "—talking." He stops himself from finishing his sentence with an incredulous,  “To me.”  Instead he adds, "I'm just listening." 

"Oh," Taichi says back. His grin is wide and sweet when he turns it back towards the fire. Embers shifts in the reflection of his golden brown eyes and it reminds Koushirou of a rich whiskey, the sort Mimi's dad would always try to pour for him when he would visit their house. Taichi stares hard at the fire for a minute before asking, “What was I talking about?”

Koushirou doesn’t think it’s a test, when Taichi asks. He’s not even sure it’s directed at him, but he remembers, “Daisuke is a belligerent drunk.”

Taichi stares back at him and this time Koushirou asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” Taichi starts, an odd expression crossing his face. “Just,” he tries again, sending Koushirou a charming half grin. “I guess you were listening,” he laughs lightly. 

Koushirou frowns. He wonders if people often don’t. Ignoring Taichi seems like it’d be a hard task to pursue. 

"But right, they get along for the most part, just Daisuke gets rowdy after a few shots and Takeru figured he should leave early to preserve the peace, so I ended up as the Chauffeur to his highness of the Teenage Wolves. Ah, and then Hikari came with Takeru since there wasn't much room in my car with Sora, too, and, so yeah." Taichi considers the ground for a moment. Koushirou can't place his expression. "Sorry, that was a lot." 

"I had no qualms listening," Koushirou tells him. Taichi cuts his gaze back up to meet his, looking almost uncharacteristically relieved. "How do  you  know Ken?" Koushirou changes the subject. 

Taichi's face brightens even more. "Oh, well, you know Ken plays soccer, right?" Koushirou nods even if he doesn't think it's a question needing an answer. "Yeah, we're on the same team. Kid's a beast."

Koushirou raises a brow. "As in the same university team?" 

Taichi hums in the affirmative. "I think I only got in because of my soccer skills," he laughs disparagingly. "But it's got a great master's program for polisci and some great internship connections." 

Koushirou stares. "I wouldn't discredit your achievements," he puts in after a short moment. "It's not a particularly easy school to get in, even on a sport's scholarship." 

"Yeah?" Taichi says. His eyes are back on the fire, but there's a sheepishness in his smile. Koushirou wonders if the lighting were better, if he might be able to tell if Taichi were blushing. "You know you should come watch us some time. We’re pretty good. If you want?” 

Soccer in itself sounds incredibly unappealing, but Koushirou finds himself offering a, “Perhaps,” despite himself. 

"Hey," someone calls out, approaching them from the other side of the bonfire. He recognizes Hikari as soon as she steps into the ring of light, the camera that had been stuck to her face a few short hours ago now lax about her neck. To Koushirou, it looks heavy. “I seem to have lost Takeru,” she confesses, gesturing back to what Koushirou assumes is the banquet area with her hand holding up a dark, glass bottle. “And our chairs,” she laughs, taking a long swig of the bottle as if she just remembered the liquor existed. “Miyako said I could sit you with guys,” she addresses Koushirou with a disarmingly sweet smile before taking another quick chug. 

“Slow down, girlie,” Taichi cuts in. “Or I’ll find you on the stairs later and have to heft you up myself.”

Hikari makes a face at him. "Why are you like this every time we go out?" 

"Big brother privileges."

“It sounds preferable to the need of dissimulating cat waste," Koushirou puts in.

Taichi gives a full, hearty laugh, throwing his head back over the canvas backing of his own chair. 

“You two should take your act on the road,” she suggests, taking what can only be considered a defiant sip of her beer, “and  leave.  Speaking of,” she adds, switching her weight from one foot the other. Koushirou worries for the overfilled plate in her other hand. “Daisuke requests your presence at the buffet table, Taichi.”

“Such is the burden of being popular,” Taichi says. He makes sure to tell Koushirou, “I’ll be back,” as if it was somehow a concern he might have. Koushirou refuses to humor the thought, just sending Taichi a crooked half smile back. 

“Insufferable that one,” Hikari scoffs jestingly, falling into the newly unoccupied seat. She balances the full plate of food atop her lap and throws back her dusty purple shawl from her shoulders, then hangs her camera strap along the back edge of the chair. 

"I'm sorry," Koushirou says. His cheeks feel hot and shame fills his stomach. "I hadn't meant to—" 

He catches Hikari mid-sip, but she's already batting her hand towards him. When she finishes she reassures him, "It's fine. I know Taichi's a bad influence." Koushirou presses his lips together, unsure how to proceed, but Hikari adds, "I did think it was pretty funny. Just don't tell him that." 

Hikari smiles at him and Koushirou returns it. 

"He has a way about him," Hikari continues out of nowhere. Her expression is fond when she tells him, "he's a little overbearing at times, but it always feels like his heart's in the right place."

Koushirou swallows. He doesn't quite know how to compliment her confessions so he settles on saying, "It must be nice to have so many friends in common." 

She hums, "Sometimes." And then lets out a soft giggle. "It's hard to keep to secrets that way, though." Hikari smiles at him, something sweet yet conspiring. "Which means this is all between us, got it?" 

He has never really had to keep a secret before. Mimi and Miyako are open books, and if even they weren't he doesn't quite know who he would share such gossip with.

Hikari holds up her hand towards him, this time only her pinky extended. Koushirou catches it with his own and when she grins at him it feels as if it transfers through their bond and he cannot stop himself from returning it.

Hikari is a comfortable presence, even in the interims of silence that passes between them. "I can't believe you've known Miyako all this time," she breathes out, taking a healthy bite of Mimi's famous barbeque brisket. "I wonder if we met before somehow." 

"Perhaps," Koushirou humors the thought.

Over the humdrum of other guests, a few, strong musical notes drift through the night. Around them people start cheering, the excitement electric in the air. Hikari seems to perk up at the first sign of them, dropping her beer bottle at the base of her chair and hurries the rest of her meal into her mouth. 

"Sounds like they're starting," she surmises, reaching behind her for the camera she had retired not too long ago. "I'm going to take some pictures of the band," she relates to Koushirou, stretching as she stands to her feet. 

She barely takes a step before she rounds back on him. Koushirou finds it hard to tear his eyes away from hers. "You wanna come with me?" Hikari asks, tilting her head towards the source of the festivities. "I bet desserts out, too!" 

Koushirou has never really been one for a great many sweets, but it’s also not often someone asks for his company and so wordlessly he follows her back. 

In the distance the reception area looks, quite honestly, like a dream. Flames atop the tiki torches dance in the wind, accented by the fairylights pinned to the table. The cupcakes he had spent the afternoon decorating now sit atop their silver charges, but to his chagrin no one has seemed interested. He hopes it's not because of his lack of skill. 

Not too far from the buffet a makeshift stage has been erected; fairy lights drape between several poles stuck into the dirt, something that looks like a rug has been rolled out along the sand for the band members to stand on with their equipment. 

A very large group of people has already gathered before them, obscuring most of the view. It only gets more crowded as the band actually starts up, the vocals almost drowned out by the belting of guitar strings, of the pounding on the drum set. 

Koushirou stands back with Hikari, closer to the buffet table. Every so often she holds the lense to her eyes and a rapid fire set of clicks sound off. Wind rushes past them, blowing Hikari's hair this way and that. He has to hold her camera at one point when it threatens to dislodge the little red clip fastening her bangs out of the way of her eyes. 

"Koushirou!" Mimi finds him, dispersing part of the crowd as she rushes to his side. Her cheeks are flushed and her smile wide, the sand perhaps only partly to blame for her uneven gait. He notices that her sandals are missing and frowns. He really hopes they weren’t too expensive this time. “Come dance with me!" She urges him, pulling on his wrist with a gentle force.

"I—" his gaze catches Hikari's momentarily and she beams at him encouragingly, until he shakes his head.

She considers him for a moment, then carefully slips the camera’s tether from around her neck and pushes it into his hands. “I’ll dance with you,” she volunteers in his stead. 

Mimi is fast to switch targets, excitedly taking Hikari’s hand in her own. Over her shoulder, Hikari makes a motion with her pointer finger.  Take photos, is how Koushirou interprets her signal. He can hear the two of them cheering just over the music as they venture further onto the dance floor. 

His fingers tap gently along the odd buttons and switches adorning the camera. He can find his way behind a firewall just fine, but operating one of these fills his chest with dread. Koushirou has no doubts that if given an hour or two he could divest the instrument of it’s secrets, but he knows he doesn’t have the time and the thought of failing Hikari, even a stranger he barely knows, is almost devastating. 

“Just look through the little viewfinder," someone instructs him. “I know there’s a live feed switch somewhere but it doesn’t like to work for me.” Their weight against him is warm and Koushirou looks up to be greeted by one of Taichi's smiles. His companion taps a little raised button at the top of the camera and tells him, "Then you just click this." 

Koushirou sends a wary look back at the camera. It’s digital screen is dark and gives him no help. He offers it up with a quick, "Perhaps you're more qualified," but Taichi backs away with both of his hands up in surrender. 

"The only machinery I'm qualified to operate is my cell phone." 

Koushirou quirks an eyebrow. "And your car, I presume?" 

Taichi narrows his eyes in a not unkind way and agrees, "And my car. As far as anyone needs to know." 

Koushirou considers his options for a moment and then lifts the camera up to eye level, finding the little window and surveying the crowd through it. He doesn't have the right skill for this, the equipment heavy despite being held up with both of his hands. The button at the top is almost completely unyielding against his attempts to press it that he almost drops the whole thing to the compact earth several times. 

"These are horrible," Taichi laughs as they thumb through each of the photos after Koushirou manages to take a dozen or so. He groans. Taichi's right. Every face is a blurry mess, the torch lights a fuzzy glare across the screen. 

"Hikari looks like she's on fire," Taichi cackles when they stumble on one of the few Koushirou managed to take of them dancing, with Mimi raising both of their arms high in the air, twirling Hikari on the unstable floor. The fire behind them has blurred across the screen, making it look as if it has consumed most of her hair. 

Koushirou huffs a laugh. 

She had slipped not a moment after the trigger had gone off. Koushirou smiles at the next image, of Mimi hovering worriedly over the other woman as Hikari merely laughs, the mirth bright and alive on her face even in the still image. 

Taichi had found the scene uncontainably funny, his laughter belly deep and contagious. Seeing it again does little to temper the humor, and Koushirou finds himself laughing along with Taichi again as the fire settles lovingly in his wood-brown eyes, burning brightly. His fingers where they overlap Koushirou's own to view the screen better are welcome, the warmth they harbor traveling up his body and into his cheeks. 

The music comes to a soft end, the last notes as crisp in the air as the wind brushing over them. This time it does not fade into another song. 

"We'll be back after a short break," the lead singer informs the crowd. He looks a little like the guy who Hikari had come with, but Koushirou can’t fully discern most of his face from this distance. "We’ll keep the mic open if anyone would like to say a few words."

Taichi relinquishes his half of the hold on the camera, telling him quickly, "I'll be back." He flashes Koushirou a quick thumbs up as he runs towards the makeshift stage. 

A majority of the crowd disperses over the news, lines of dancers making their way back over to the bonfire. 

It is colder now, where Koushirou stands by himself. He teeters on his feet, wondering if he should hazard some photos of the speakers, if he should have perhaps not turned down the invitation to say something when Ken had first requested it of him. 

Hikari comes to his side at just right the moment, her smile pushing out both of her prominent dimples. "Taichi's going to take the stage soon," she informs him, gently taking back her camera. “So let's grab some dessert and leave before he goes ham," she adds with a wicked laugh.

“Shouldn’t we stay?” 

She wrinkles her nose. “He’s going to do an encore at the actual wedding, trust me. Besides I’ve been his test audience  all week, I’ve got it memorized.” She reaches for a plate and fills it with several cupcakes. Koushirou wonders if it’s for their group, or just a personal serving. “I can give you the low down as we walk back,” she offers with a wry smile.  

Koushirou can't decide either way when Hikari loops her arm through his and pulls him, not unwillingly, back in the direction of their camp for the evening, only stopping by the coolers to get another drink.  

"These are awful," Hikari cackles, echoing her brother once they've settled back into their seats. Her face lights up at what Koushirou assumes is her devastating fall on the dance floor. She grins at him, her flush highlighted by the glow of the pyre. “But I think you captured the feeling of tonight pretty well."

Koushirou's certain he's done no such thing, but he chooses not to argue, hiding his slight smile with the bow of his head. 

Across the way Koushirou can barely make out any distinguishable sounds aside from the occasional feedback on the mic. He doesn't know if Taichi is still speaking, or if he's probably joined the crowd by now. Maybe he'll stay over there for the rest of the evening and find a more suitable partner to hang around, who prefers to dance the night away instead of tucking into corners and playing antisocial party games. 

Koushirou huffs at the thought. 

“I won!” Mimi declares as soon as she returns, throwing both of her hands up into the air as if she has stuck a particularly flawless landing. Clutched in one of her fists is a distinctively red cup. Hikari claps on her behalf which only seems to fuel Mimi’s ego as she strikes several new vogue-like poses in victory. Miyako ducks beneath one of her arms with a pointed snort.

“What precisely did you win?”

“Daisuke goaded us into a drinking game,” Miyako explains, falling into the only free chair left. Mimi doesn’t hesitate to fall atop her lap, keeping her solo cup safely unrattled over both of their heads. “Results are debatable.”

“No they aren’t,” Mimi argues, drawing out every syllable. “ I won. I just said that. Where’s the debate?”

Miyako snorts, resting her forehead against the broad of Mimi's back. "Alright," she says appeasingly, "you won." 

When Mimi dips her cup back to take a nice long sip after a final self-congratulatory  whoop , Koushirou suspects it is no longer soda. About them the scent of alcohol has become thicker, rivaled only by the sweet smell of burning oak and just the right hint of smoke. Koushirou breathes it in, not missing the low tide in the least. 

"Your hot friend is here," Mimi pipes up a moment later. Koushirou wants to assume she's not talking to him, with her eyes taking on that distant glaze as if she's not really looking at anything, but then she follows up with, "You know the one. Bush hair boy." 

Miyako cackles into the crook of Mimi's arm where her head still rests. "Taichi," she corrects her. 

"Mimi," he whispers harshly. He tries to motion with his eyes, over his head, where the other girl can no doubt hear them.

"What?" She snaps, the absolute vision of drunkenly defensive. 

"Hikari is his sister," Miyako explains with little tact. 

Mimi sits up straighter to look over Koushirou's head at the other member in their party. "Oh!" She says, settling back down, this time throwing her legs over the arm of the chair until her bare toes wiggle just barely out of reach of Koushirou's elbow. "Then what does she care if he's hot?"  

"I love you," she adds, crunching herself up in Miyako's lap to wave at the girl. "We should dance more later." 

"I'm good for the night," Hikari says. When Koushirou chances to look at her, she's pressing her lips together as if to contain her own trembling laughter. "Maybe another time?" 

"With less sand," Miyako complains, rolling her head back. "My thighs are  killing  me  ." 

"My butt is going to hurt in the morning," Hikari adds, taking a swig of her new beer. 

Koushirou's just glad they've changed the subject from— 

"Koushirou's hot friend!" Mimi greets him as soon as Taichi slips into the light. He gives her a funny look before finally greeting her back with, "Lanyard girl!" 

Mimi doesn't hesitate when Taichi offers up his fist to bump her own against it. She even imitates his impression of an explosion when they pull apart. Koushirou smiles fondly at her as she settles into giggles. 

And,  oh, Koushirou falters. Taichi hadn't corrected her when she declared that they were friends.

"Up," Taichi directs his sister, motioning her to move with both of his hands. "I was sitting there first," he reminds her. 

"I was sitting there first!" Mimi puts in, raising her arm like she’s waiting to be called on in class. Both of the siblings send her apologetic smiles but Mimi doesn’t appear bothered as she reclines back into Miyako laps and hums around her cup.

"Finder's keeper's," Hikari says defiantly, exchanging one leg over the other as she sits up straighter. Her smile is sweet, yet coy. "Besides, Miyako invited me to sit with everyone." 

Miyako says something, but even next to her Koushirou cannot discern any words. Her glasses have been displaced from over her eyes, just barely sitting on the rounded part of her forehead, suspended only by where she's slumped against Mimi's forearm. They shift precariously whenever the other woman moves around. He almost thinks to grab them off for her before Mimi plucks the spectacles from her head and rights them on her own, as if they were sunglasses. 

Hikari beams up at her brother, as if somehow she’s finally won. "There’s plenty of other seats to choose from," she suggests, sweeping her hand above the sand at her feet. 

Taichi frowns at her. 

"You can sit here," Koushirou offers instead, gesturing to his own seat. He has no qualms with standing, or even taking some part of the dirt. 

Taichi looks as if he'll decline before his gaze shifts over towards Mimi and Miyako and he seems to reconsider the offer.  "You sure?" He asks. Koushirou thinks he should be weary of the way Taichi tries to press down a very obvious grin. 

But he still says, "Of course," and lives to regret it when Taichi takes the chance to settle right into his seat—with Koushirou still occupying it. He mirrors Mimi's position, throwing his legs up and over the armrest and has the audacity to give Koushirou the widest, sweetest grin imaginable. 

"Am I too heavy?"

And that's—  well.  It's unfair, really. What is Koushirou supposed to say to that?  Yes? 

“No,” is what his mouth decides on without his consent.

"On guard!" Mimi calls, wielding her feet to smack against Taichi's as if they were fencing with swords. Taichi takes the cue, leaning back a slight bit to tap against her until Mimi is no more than snorts and giggles, her curls almost sweeping against the dirt as she sways back in Miyako's lap. 

The arm of the chair groans against the excessive weight as Taichi finds a comfortable position. He grins up at Koushirou as if nothing were amiss, but it feels to Koushirou as if the whole world has been turned on its axle, the blood pooling in his cheeks almost enough evidence to prove his theory.

"Let me know if it gets uncomfortable," Taichi tells him. 

Koushirou won't. He knows this about himself. 

"We can switch later," he offers.

"I'm fine," he answers politely. 

But he's not. He's really not. His head is spinning. Where does he put his hands? 

Koushirou decides to leave them where they are, along the arm rests, though it almost makes it feel as if he's carrying the man princess-style and he doesn't know how to digest this information. 

Taichi grins at him as if he is privy to Koushirou's every thought, leaning deeper against the armrest. His weight against Koushirou's arm is almost pleasant. "How's work been treating you?" 

"Fine," Koushirou answers simply. Swallowing feels unnecessarily difficult.

"Yeah? Not getting accosted by any aliens on your way home?" 

Koushirou squints at the man in his lap before he remembers. He levels Taichi with a dramatically withered expression. "I'm not their intended target, sir." 

"You're right," Taichi looks briefly aghast. "I should have been more careful lately, huh?" 

"I know a former Russian agent who may agree to shifting careers toward mercenary work." 

Taichi wrinkles his nose. "Does that include fighting aliens?" 

"Indubitably." 

"Sounds like an amazing movie idea," Taichi comments after he sobers up from a quick burst of laughter, giving Koushirou a lopsided grin. "We should sell the rights to a film company. Make millions." 

"Invest heavily in Cranberry juice?" 

Taichi laughs. "It all comes full circle, man." 

Hikari snorts at them somewhere to his right. "What are you two talking about?" 

"I don't want to be left out either!" Mimi makes it known, scrambling to sit up straighter by clutching at the arm of her shared seat with Miyako. She tosses back another long sip of her drink and frowns at the cup, tipping it over haphazardly. "It's gone," she informs Koushirou, miserably. 

"There's still more to drink," Hikari says over his and Taichi's head. "With Daisuke involved, I'm certain of it." 

Mimi stares in the direction of the fire, several clips in her hair glinting like stars in the night where the light catches them. She makes a clicking sound with her tongue, still trying to decide if it’s worth it to take the long trip.  

"Sora's still over there," Taichi mentions. Koushirou perks up at the unfamiliar name. "I'm sure she'll dance some more." 

"That's right!" Mimi shouts. "I forgot about dancing!" 

She takes a few minutes before rushing off to try to coax Hikari to join her, but it's to no avail. 

"She sure has some energy," Taichi comments with a shrill whistle. 

"I heard she made all the food tonight," Hikari adds in, humming appreciatively around her first bite of a cupcake. 

"All morning," Koushirou confirms.

Miyako mutters something, leaning over to one side now that there’s no one keeping her up. Her eyes are just barely open and her gaze is straight on the fire. Koushirou thinks her glasses might still be on Mimi's head and he frowns, hoping they don't end up as the same fate as Mimi's sandals. 

When Taichi wonders if she's fine, Miyako just waves them off. 

Drunk , is what Koushriou deems her. She's always the most quiet when she's had enough to drink. He smiles at her, ready to offer if she wants a ride home when someone else walks up to them with a casual, "Hey guys!"

Koushirou recognizes him from earlier, when he came down to the beach with Hikari. Takeru, if his recollection doesn’t fail him.

"Sorry, I totally spaced," he says to her. She only smiles back at him and motions to the open space next to her chair. Taichi leans his neck all the way back to look at their new member, waving his greeting at the blond who returns it without question. "I got caught up talking to Daisuke and Ken and then helping out my brother with the equipment," he titters. Takeru places the two chairs down along their line of seats already, positioning them on a slight tilt so when he finally sits down Koushirou can still clearly see his face. 

Mostly . Even with the additional seating, Taichi does not relocate a comfortable seating arrangement. Koushirou thinks he'll need the rest of the week to process this. 

Takeru catches his stare under the brim of his hat, smiling up at him. "I'm Takeru," he introduces himself with a long wave and an equally lengthened smile that sets Koushirou at ease. 

"That's Koushirou," Hikari says offhand, taking a large bite of the cupcake on her plate. Koushirou almost takes the chance to tell her of the frosting sitting on her cupid's bow, but Takeru pulls back his attention with an enthused declaration of, "I owe you my life!" 

Koushirou stares. 

Takeru stares back up at him where the lawn chairs he'd carried don't stand quite as tall. Taichi in his lap let's out what can only be described as a cackle after a spell of silence. 

"No," Takeru pushes on, "you don't understand." 

Koushirou doesn't. He's no longer sure of what he does understand. 

"Plan 9 From Outerspace is now my favorite movie ever." 

"We rented some of the movies you recommended to me last time," Taichi explains. He rests his head on the canvas backing of the chair. Koushirou can feel the ghost of Taichi’s laughter just along the shell of his ear. All he can manage to do is look forward. "Takeru really likes bad movies." 

"He's watched it at least 3 more times afterwards," Hikari adds, licking away all of the evidence of pink frosting from one of her fingers. "So thanks for that." 

“Just doing my civic duty of spreading the gospel of execrable science fiction,” Koushirou finds himself adding in his own defense. A moment later his cheeks color. The only person he knows with any certainty is Miyako, and he’s not entirely sure she’s awake anymore. 

But Takeru just asks him with a definite shine in his eyes, “What else have you seen?”

“You don’t have to worry,” Taichi tells him softly. Koushirou makes the mistake of turning to look at him, because Taichi is just far  too close, his eyes ((disgustingly)) soft for anyone’s good, but least of all for Koushirou and his poor heart. “Not with them.”

"Have you seen  The Brain from Planet Arous? " Takeru wonders, calling Koushirou's attention back. 

"Absolutely,” he manages. “Easily in the top ten." 

They fall into a pattern then, of going back and forth on their favorites. Takeru even takes out his phone to jot down some of the new one's he's never heard of. Koushirou keeps his notes mental, rather than bothering trying to reach for his cell phone in the pocket of his cargo pants. 

"You know the truly wonderful movies are only found when you deep dive into the dollar bargain bins," Takeru says, sagely. 

"Just like all quality items," Hikari deadpans. 

" Listen,”  Takeru insists.  “Kung-fu From Beyond the Grave  is cinematic  genius ." 

"You can't even see the whites of anybody's eyes," Taichi adds with a roll of his own. "There weren't even any zombies." 

"Not every good movie needs—" 

“TJ!” Daisuke’s voice calls across the distance, the feedback from the microphone deafening even all the way across the beach.

Immediately, Takeru’s on his feet. 

“That’s my cue,” he says, giving everyone a calm smile. Hikari picks herself up, throwing her dusty purple shawl back over her shoulders. “It was nice meeting you,” Takeru says. It takes Koushirou a moment to realize he’s talking to  him, which, well, of course he is. Koushirou’s the only stranger in their group. 

“Likewise,” he manages. His cheeks burn. He hopes no one’s noticed the timelapse. 

“It was fun,” Hikari adds in. Her eyes meet Koushirou’s when she says, “We’ll have to do something like this again soon.” Lovely smiles must be hereditary, Koushirou discovers, when she turns one on him. 

“Indubitably,” Taichi answers on his behalf.  

"We can rent Flash Gordon!" Takeru offers, snapping the second chair up. 

Hikari takes it from him with an exaggerated, "Again!" But her long, fond smile tells Koushirou she doesn't mind the idea of it. 

"Indubitably," Koushirou answers for himself this time.

And then they're gone. 

Koushirou's eyes watch the fire, unbelieving. It's not that he expects to see them again, that either of them will make good on their promise. It's just— Koushirou's never made plans with complete strangers before. His friend group has never branched out from school or work. It’s the second time in one evening that it feels as if the entire world has been uprooted and turned on its head. 

Taichi adjusts himself momentarily, asking Koushirou, "Still alright?" as he slides more into a sitting position, his rump not quite directly in his lap anymore. Koushirou manages to nod, even if he's not sure what the question is pertaining to. 

Taichi tucks both of his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and breathes out a quick laugh. "So  any  cool adventures this week?" He wonders. 

"Do you mean more fulfilling than saving Japan?" 

Taichi laughs. "Yeah, cooler than that." 

"Nothing," he answers honestly. Then he remembers to ask, "And you?" 

Taichi hums. “Definitely not anything that cool,” he titters. The fire looks brighter when Koushirou catches the embers sparking in Taichi’s gaze as he turns his attention directly towards the bonfire. “But I guess vigilantism is hard to compete with,” he tacks on, pursing his lips in consideration. Koushirou moves his hand once Taichi starts to bounce both of his legs along the chair’s armrest, tucking it into the space between the both of them and across his stomach. 

Taichi just  exudes  warmth and Koushirou feels it like a salve on his tensed muscles, relaxing into Taichi's offhand stories about his week; regaling him in adventures that involve skirting his coursework in favor of midnight milkshakes or tag at the local park. They involve more extracurricular activities and less extraterrestrial lifeforms than Koushirou would prefer, but he thinks, perhaps, Taichi could spend the rest of an evening explaining a sandwich he made, and Koushirou would still find the tale no less intriguing.  

"What are you doing to him?" 

Koushirou looks up to see the lead singer of the band from before, regarding them with a critical eye. 

Taichi swings one of his legs exaggeratedly and simply tells the other man, "Nothing. We're hanging out." 

" Right ." He plops into the seat Hikari had been occupying not too long ago. "Blink twice if you need help," he instructs Koushirou in a harsh stage whisper. There's nothing discreet about it and Taichi tells him just as much. The blond seems unbothered, lifting a bottle up to his lips.

"Where's Sora?" Taichi wonders into their newfound silence, bouncing his legs again. Aside to Koushirou he explains, "Sora is Cannibal A." 

"Ah." He vaguely has a face in his stored memories to pull upon.

Although Taichi can't see him, the other guy shrugs. He takes another sip, eyes entranced with the pyre before them as he relays with a heavily distracted tone, "She was hanging out with some new friend. Said they were going to collect sea glass."

"This is Koushirou by the way," Taichi introduces him, straining his neck back to look at his friend. "This is cannibal B," Taichi tells him a moment later, shooting Koushirou a secretive smile. “Or just Yamato, I guess.”

“ You ,” Yamato starts, pointing directly at Koushirou with his beer hand, “owe me six hours of my life back.”

"Plan 9," Taichi explains. "He's not so much into the bargain bin movies." 

"Time is a non-refundable currency," Koushirou answers before he can stop himself. He’s starting to think this might be all Taichi’s influence, especially as the other man follows up with a firm, "Should have read the terms and conditions, man."  

Yamato shoots them both a withered look. 

Taichi rolls his head back once more to look at Yamato directly and wonders with a vague sense of sympathy in his tone, "Did Takeru make you watch it twice?" 

Yamato scoffs in answer. Koushirou can hear the whistle of his breath through the hollow of the bottle just before he takes another chug. "Solaranite, though? It's too contrived." 

"Yamato's training to be an astronaut," Taichi adds in as if he's bragging of his own accomplishments.

"It wasn't even funny," Yamato continues, sounding absolutely offended. He makes a face at the fire. "Fake science always takes me out of the plot." 

"I prefer more preposterous science," Koushirou argues. "I find it preferable to spreading false information that sounds credible."

Yamato takes a short sip of his drink, the furrow in brow enough to indicate to Koushirou that he’s considering the point. Finally Yamato concedes, “I guess that’s better.”

Eventually the fire before them begins to dwindle with the absence of anything more to consume. It is the only indication of time passing that Koushirou has for the evening and he is bewildered by it when Yamato halts them in the middle of discussion on the poor science in fiction to ask, “Is she alive over there?”

Koushirou looks to Miyako, still slumped in the chair beside him. He hadn’t noticed her lightly snoring away since earlier in the evening. The fire cracks atop one of the logs and Koushirou feels his cheeks burn. Around them, everyone else has packed up and left.

"I should take her home," Koushirou says. Regret seizes in his chest the moment the words spill out and Taichi’s lopsided smile falls into a frown. 

"Yeah," he agrees, but makes no move to reseat himself. 

Oddly, Koushirou doesn't mind. 

"Yeah,” Yamato repeats. “I should start getting the equipment back in the car," he tells them, sounding very much like that is the last thing he wants to do. He takes a final gulp of his beer and wrestles his way up to his feet. 

"Here are the keys," Taichi says, pulling them out from his jean’s pocket and dangling them blindly over his head. 

Yamato snatches them briskly. "Let Sora know we're heading out soon if you see her first." 

"Aye, aye," Taichi salutes the blond. "And if you see a nice pair of sandals, I think Mimi's missing them!" He calls to the other's back. Yamato just throws a thumbs up to indicate he heard. 

"She kicked them off as soon as the music started," Taichi explains to Koushirou's curious gaze. "I was helping move some of the equipment and they nearly smacked me in the face. Never saw where they went." 

Koushirou can't help it. He can see the image so clearly in his mind, can imagine what it might be like if one of them  had  made their mark on Taichi’s face, that the laughter bubbles up from his chest, throwing his head back against the canvas backing of his chair. 

Taichi beams at him. "You have a nice laugh," he comments, bouncing his legs once more. It’s enough to sober Koushirou up, and he is so very grateful for the diminished light of the fire now.

Ken finds them not too long after Yamato's departure, Taichi still spilled across his lap. His friend sways lightly where he stands, squinting at them as if trying to solve a puzzle. A bucket clatters against his hip as he stares. 

"Closing up shop?" Taichi asks.

Ken looks down. "Yes," he says, unsure. His eyes settle in Miyako’s direction. “Is she alright?”

In answer, Miyako snores. 

“I was just about to take her home,” Koushirou says, smiling sheepishly up at his friend. Ken nods, every dip of his head far too deep and long. He almost offers to put out the fire himself before Ken finally douses the embers, blanketing them in an unnatural, unadjusted darkness, a pillar of dark, gray clouds rising against the muted sky. In his lap still, Taichi seems to hold his breath. It smells aggressively of smoke and soggy wood and the same cologne Koushirou’s certain Taichi wore last weekend. 

“I should get her to the car,” Koushirou continues, turning an apologetic look in Miyako’s direction. She looks so at peace. 

Taichi lets out a long suffering sigh, but he complies and rolls his way off the chair. Without the other's weight atop him, Koushirou's lap feels unnaturally cold, and the sense of relief he had been predicting earlier in the evening feels, strangely, like  remorse. 

It doesn't last long. His thighs ache when he attempts to stand, feeling like rubber and prickling with numbness. He winces at the first step. If it counts as a step. 

"You okay?" The very reason for his problem asks. Koushirou frowns back at him and Taichi only grins, shoving his hands through the pouch of his hoodie. In the dark the color is almost indiscernible against the night sky.  

"I hope the aliens get you," he says. Taichi laughs. 

"Come on, Miyako," Koushirou urges his friend. She only answers with a defiant groan, falling deeper against the side of the chair. Koushirou shakes her shoulder gently, calling to her once again. It’s to no avail.

Taichi laughs heartily. Ken chuckles besides him.

Koushirou glares. 

"Miyako~" Taichi coos, coming up on her other side. He reaches gently for one of her arms, coaxing her to sit up further. Miyako makes a garbled noise, huffing as Taichi places a hand across her back to keep her from slouching back into the seat. Her head rolls over on to her own shoulder and she blinks up at him. 

Koushirou has no idea what she says next, but Taichi laughs. "Koushirou's going to take you home now. To sleep in a real bed, okay?" 

Miyako nods. Or she's drifting back off. Koushirou isn't really sure, but Taichi somehow manages to convince her to stand. Miyako rubs at her eyes, giving several hard blinks before she starts to attempt to walk forward, her gait unsure. She slurs out a quiet, “Sorry,” when she sees Koushirou watching her. 

“Let’s go to the car,” Taichi suggests, throwing his arm around her shoulder as they start towards the parking lot. Koushirou isn’t sure if it’s to keep her upright, or just a friendly gesture as he asks the girl, “Did you have fun tonight?” Miyako nods. 

"Incredible," Koushirou breathes out.

Taichi back at him, grinning. "Just your local drunk whisperer hard at work." 

 "I’ll help," Ken offers, “with the chairs”. Koushirou just about tells him to not mind it, but the other man is already folding up one of their seats and stuffing it into the respective bag and so he merely says, "Thank you," as he follows suit with his own. 

They meet Taichi and Miyako at the pavement of the parking lot. Miyako’s eyes are barely open as she rests her head against the side of Taichi’s shoulder. 

"Which one?" Taichi asks. Koushirou points out his mother's SUV, it's lights blinking at them from where he had parked it earlier that evening. 

He tosses the chairs into the back, and then leans out of the way for Miyako to crawl into the middle seat, her eyes bleary when she takes one quick look back at him before dropping her head onto the seat. 

“On your side,” Ken prompts her over Koushirou’s shoulder. He sounds tired and on just the right side of gone as he expresses the concern, “Don’t want you sick.”

She mumbles a little something, but complies regardless of her words, shifting over onto her side. Koushirou wishes he could fall asleep that easily as her light snoring recommences. He pulls the scratchy, old blanket his mother always keeps draped atop the seat back and lays it across Miyako. 

"Have you seen Mimi?" He asks Taichi and Ken, peering at the parking lot around them in case he can see the silhouette of other party goers. Koushirou wouldn’t put it past her to have found another group to weave herself into, but there's only two other cars in the lot now. 

Taichi shrugs, turning his own head as if to survey the area as well. Ken looks pensive at the question. 

"Jun," he starts, then stops as if he's forgotten that he was talking at all. 

"Your hangover is gonna suck tomorrow, buddy," Taichi snickers. Ken opens his mouth and then glares at his teammate instead. 

"What about Jun?" Koushirou presses. He makes sure Miyako's legs have been sufficiently scrunched out of the way of the door as he slams it shut. 

Ken snaps to attention. "Wanted to know what to do," he says. At Koushirou's confused stare he remembers to add, "With your stuff." 

Koushirou feels his gaze turn in the direction of the reception area on instinct. They hadn't come up with a plan after everyone started drinking. 

"Jun was forcing Yamato to help," Ken continues, "with our stuff. And the band. Di’you?" 

Koushirou stares. "Did I what?" 

Ken presses his lips together, clearly finding the activity of speaking with sober people  very  frustrating when Taichi guesses, "Have Yamato load the car?" 

"Yes," Ken says, pointing at Taichi. 

He shrugs when Koushirou raises an eyebrow at him. "It's a superpower." 

Koushirou considers it for a while. He’ll never get all the items up by himself, or with a drunk Mimi alone. Not before sunrise. It would be a great help, but Koushirou finds it hard to balance against his overwhelming need to apparently suffer. 

"I would appreciate it," he finally says, dropping the keys into Ken’s awaiting hands with a smile.

Ken heads down the long slope of the hill first, his feet catching momentum on the incline. Somewhere near the bottom Daisuke halts him with an enveloping hug, the two of them swaying in something almost akin to a lumbering box step. Koushirou can just barely hear the cadence of their laughter on the wind and it brings a smile to his lip. 

"I've never seen Ken so drunk before," Taichi titters beside him, warm and steady.

“Yeah,” Koushirou agrees, peering along the beach as well, hoping to find a familiar silhouette. Although the beach is almost as empty as when they had first come mere hours ago, looking upon it now feels  different, as if an imprint has been left on the canvas even though so little evidence still stays. 

“I think I found our missing persons,” Taichi says, pointing just further down the opposite end of the beach, where two shadows hazard along the rocks. 

Koushirou lets out a huff. “Of course.”

“You know Ken used to refuse to drink at our club parties all the time,” Taichi says, shaking his head. Moonlight is their only guide down along the shore, but it seems to favor Taichi, illuminating his face, his smile, in a way that makes Koushirou's heart flutter. He kicks up sand with his now bare feet, sandals clutched in his hand. Koushirou takes to the higher shore, not willing to get water logged into his sneakers. “I tell you that Daisuke is a poor influence,” Taichi scoffs, clutching a hand over his heart in mock offense. 

“I don’t believe so,” Koushirou finds himself speaking out loud. Taichi hesitates on the sand for a moment, and as if there is some invisible thing connecting them, Koushirou finds himself coming to a halt as well. “Not that I condone excessive consumption,” he feels the need to explain, “but in recent years I’ve observed Ken laughing more.” 

“Yeah?” A wave licks up along the edge of Taichi’s foot. Koushirou imagines it must be freezing this time of night, but the other barely flinches. “Daisuke’s been a little more mature,” Taichi tells him, “since he met Ken. I went to visit him the other day and  he cleaned the house for me.” 

Koushirou laughs at the way Taichi says it, his eyes slightly widened as if it were relaying a horror story instead. 

Taichi lets out a short laugh of his own. “It’s like they were made for each other, I guess.”

Koushirou wrinkles his nose. “I’m not quite sure I believe in any such providence.” He looks up for a moment, trying to decide on the right words. Stars wink back down at him. He never sees them in the city. Koushirou almost forgets to continue, but Miyako’s words come back to him. “I simply believe they compliment each other.”

He catches Taichi's eyes on him. "What is it?" 

Taichi's gaze lingers for a moment longer before he trains it towards the farshore. A grin brightens his face as he tells Koushirou, "Nothing." He picks back up on their previous pace, settling one of his hands into the pouch of his hoodie. Koushirou falls into step beside him. “I think you’re right.”

Just as the beach erodes into rocks, Koushirou pauses. "Mimi," he calls out to her silhouette. The tassels on her jacket wave in the wind, an easy tell even as the woman pivots atop one of the rocks to look back at him. "We have to go home," he explains, hollering it over the wind as it whips past them.  

A different voice calls back, "We're looking for sea glass!" 

"I want to be a mermaid princess!" It’s clearly Mimi who declares this, speaking as if it explains absolutely everything. 

Taichi shares a look with Koushirou. 

"You won't procure any up there," Koushirou tells them. In the dark he can see a soft light glowing as one of the women turns it in his direction. It's not Mimi's silhouette and so he suspects it must be Sora. The light goes out once more and he realizes she must be tapping open her homescreen, instead of the flashlight app. Taichi snorts beside him. 

"Who are you?" Sora calls back. 

"Koushirou?" He responds, unsure. 

"Koushirou!" Sora repeats it back. He watches as she stumbles along the rocks as carefully as he assumes someone with enough to drink can manage.

Koushirou frowns as Mimi's shadow disappears behind the far off landscape and he means to call for her when instead Sora greets him with another enthusiastic, "Koushirou!"

She leaps down from the nearest rock and with little warning envelopes him in a tight, warm hug. Koushirou feels his shoulders tense. She smells heavily of liquor and a flowery perfume. "I'm so glad to meet you," she coos. 

When she pulls away, her eyes are as warm as kindling doused only by the intensity of her inebriation. "Likewise," Koushirou says in answers and she beams back at him. 

"I'm still sorry we had to leave early last time. But you know Taichi's—"

“Yamato's probably waiting for us,” Taichi cuts in with his lips half quirked up, laughing humorlessly. She opens her mouth as if to continue but then presses her lips together as if she's thought better on it. 

"We'll talk more next time!" Sora assures him, with a light, sweet smile. She passes Koushirou to encircle her arm through Taichi's, tugging him away instead. Both of them send Koushirou a quick wave overhead but before he can return it they’re already locked into another conversation. He almost thinks he hears Sora requesting, “We should stop for ice cream!”

Taichi scratches the back of his head and Koushirou hears him tell her, "I think you'll regret that tomorrow." 

But mostly  next time is ringing in his ears. Koushirou wonders if any one of them will think of him after tonight.

He'll probably never see Taichi again. And that's just as well.

"Sora!" Mimi's voice hollers over the wind. Her silhouette slips back into view over a formation of rocks and Koushirou beckons her to continue back towards him. She leaps off the nearest edge, but doesn't quite have the grace Koushirou usually expects from her and ends up dropping to the sand on her rump with a small yowl. It reminds him of when she and Miyako would jump from the swingsets and miss the landing, on late nights when there was nothing else to do in town but haunt the local elementary school playground.

"Where did she go?" Mimi wonders, looking around wildly after a quick recovery. He wonders if she's drank enough to cushion the pain. "We have to find Sora," she tells Koushirou, her eyes large with alarm when they settle on him. Tears pool in the edges of her eyes.

"She's safe, Mimi," he assures her, reaching for one of her hands to help pull her up. Mimi gives him no help, keeping all of her weight there on the sand. "Taichi's taking her home," Koushirou explains further.  "We should be going home, as well, Mimi." 

Mimi looks up at him, her vision cloudier than the last time he had seen her, but something in his words must have struck a chord because she sniffles, biting at her lower lip. Her hand slips through his old and she crumples onto her back, throwing an arm over her eyes as her hair fans against the beach. In the dark the light pink blends almost naturally into the beach. 

"I want to stay here," Mimi says suddenly. The giddy, intoxicated energy in her timbre has dissipated for a softer, somber note. "With you," she chokes out.

Koushirou isn't sure which  here she means. He sits beside her on the beach, just far enough to keep his shoes from being touched by rogue waves as they roll up along the shore. 

Mimi hiccups into the silence. Koushirou only sees the track of tears rolling down the side of her cheeks where moonlight catches on the droplets. 

He runs a hand along her hair in imitation of the way he's seen Miyako combing through it, on the few occasions Mimi is anything but a perky drunk. 

"There's sand in your hair," Koushirou tells her to dispel the moment when the grains filter through his fingertips. Sand has already crawled up her feet, clinging in patches to her ankles. She throws her arm off and away from her eyes to look up at him, her expresion twisting and pulling in a show of agony. His heart feels as if it pulls right along with it. "Mimi—" He tries, but it's too late. 

Mimi chokes on another sob, the tears on her cheeks rolling much swifter now. Even in the dark he can see where they dampen her hair that clings to her cheeks. She rubs at her eyes with the full, plump of her palms and snuffles. "I promised—I wasn't going  to—" 

Koushirou isn't sure what she means, but he tries again with a soft, "Mimi," before the woman slaps both hands to either cheek and sits herself up. 

"I'm not going to be sad," she tells him, resolutely, puffing her cheeks up in the same way she always does, when Mimi wants to show how determined she is. 

"It's alright—" Koushirou tries again. 

Mimi shakes her head, and true enough sand drops from every curl. She frowns. 

"I'm going to sober up," she informs Koushirou, getting up slowly to her feet. "And wash my hair." 

He looks up at her, "Where?" 

"In the water," she says simply, and before he can do anything, she's already splashing into the brackish water, just far enough to throw her head beneath the surf without actually diving in.

"Mimi," he manages to call after her, ready to scramble up to his feet after her.

Over the waves Koushirou hears a distinct chiming noise. He used to follow the same sound when he would lose his mother in stores, back when she insisted he accompany her on errands when he was too young to remain home on his own recognizance. 

When he looks behind him, half expecting to see her now, to tell him it's time to head in for the day, it is Taichi instead, smiling back down at him. "Hey," he says, dropping to the sand beside Koushirou. He indicates to Mimi with a tilt of his head. "Still on that quest to become a mermaid princess?" 

"No," Koushirou deadpans. He breathes in, reminding himself Mimi should be fine if she stays close, that the current is sedentary enough he could pull her out if he needs to. Koushirou breathes out, heavily through his nose. "Washing her hair." 

Taichi laughs instead of asking anything further. Koushirou supposes he's used to these drunken activities. "I'm a good swimmer," Taichi assures him as if he knows exactly what Koushirou had been thinking. "I'll wait with you until she gets out."

Koushirou stares. It does, in some way, make him feel better. He falls back into sitting, crunching his legs up to his chest and cutting his gaze back to Mimi, tossing water against her face to wash away what he suspects is any trace of her crying.

“I thought you were heading home,” Koushirou says. Taichi holds up the set of his mother's keys between them, the metal clattering in that familiar song. Koushirou takes them back and stuffs them into his pocket, eyes still watching his new companion. 

“We were,” Taichi admits with an easy-going smile. His fingers dig into the sand between them, his eyes locking onto Mimi as she kicks up another wave on her way back in. “But Daisuke was adamant someone made sure you got your keys back.”

“Daisuke?”

“Yeah. Ken and Jun kept insisting they could just leave them under one of your tires, but Daisuke kicked up a huge fuss. Said he didn’t want you to think he was irresponsible.” After a moment Taichi adds, “I kind of think he might be trying to impress you.”

“Me?” Koushirou looks down to his lap. “How peculiar.”

Taichi leans forward, resting his cheeks atop his knees as he regards Koushirou. In the slim lighting his lashes appear longer than Koushirou remembers them being. “I don’t think so.” He hums in thought. “Ken seems to think pretty highly of you, you know? Makes sense Daisuke would want you to like him." 

"No part of that is sensical to me," Koushirou says. Ken is far more unique— a perfect blend of athletic and genius without compromising either talent. Daisuke is sharp wherever he chooses to lay his attention, be it on sports or cooking ramen, and his personality is radiant, bordering on charming.

Koushirou's eyes fall back on the water. Mimi's hair is dripping wet now, and Koushirou suspects it's still full of sand, only clinging tighter now than it had been. Tomorrow she'll complain it smells of salt, but right now she's laughing again and Koushirou finds his heart singing along to the melody of it. 

In a year from now, he wonders, if she'll be laughing on a different beach, with other friends who like all the same things, and Koushirou will be nothing more than a fond memory. 

If he'll even be  that. He's never quite understood, why she even bothers with him. Koushirou's always chalked it up to some whim of hers, and he's been skirting by on her kindness all this time, always waiting for the day she'll correct that one mistake. 

Koushirou rests his forehead against his own knees. She would never do it to be cruel, he knows that. Somehow it makes the possibility worse.

Beside him, Taichi shifts closer. His presence is warm, as if Koushirou were on the beach nearing midday, rather than midnight. "Makes perfect sense to me," is all he says for a while. Koushirou looks up at him, but Taichi is watching the waves. 

He doesn't know why this stranger puts up with him either. Camaraderie, Koushirou is certain, has already run its course somewhere on this beach. Perhaps as far back as Miyako's living room floor. 

“You're really impressive," Taichi admits. "So of course people want you to like them." He relaxes his legs a bit, pushing his bare feet through the sand and leaning back on his arms. Taichi deserves to grace the cover of one of those teen heartthrob magazines Mimi used to tape on her walls, back when reading magazines was an acceptable hobby outside of waiting rooms. "I mean who else can say they've saved the world just by drinking cranberry juice?" 

A joke.  Of course . Koushirou huffs out a laugh despite himself. "When did it become the world?" 

Taichi hums. "Just now." 

"I had assistance in that endeavor you know." 

"Still," Taichi says with a short shrug. Koushirou wishes he could pin a name to the way Taichi looks at him, something soft and winsome. "You should give yourself more credit. I barely know you and I think you're amazing." 

And,  well , "You are truly overestimating me," Koushirou assures him, but his cheeks burn from more than embarrassment, his own smile overwhelming as he tries to hide it against the fabric of his cargos. 

Taichi hums goodnaturedly. "Probably not." It must be a talent, to sound so unperturbed when saying such incredulous things. 

"Taichi!" Mimi waves the moment she notices their newest member. He gives her a curt wave back just as Mimi slops her way up through the surf to meet them. She hesitates along at the cusp of land just before the shore. Her white dress pants are darkened up to her knees, curls stuck to the angles of her sharp face. She doesn't look any more sober.

"My feet are going to get—" Mimi starts. She frowns down towards the sand, her toes wiggling as another wave comes up behind her, curling about her ankles as if beckoning her to return. "Dirty again," she finishes, miserably. 

"Would her majesty like a chariot?" Taichi offers, getting to his feet and bending slightly forward just before her. 

Mimi sways on the sand, considering the offer with a far off gaze. 

"Jump on," Taichi urges her and it seems to do the trick. Mimi's face brightens and she leaps forward, throwing her arms over the man's shoulders and hopping until Taichi loops his arms under her knees. He bucks her up higher when Mimi begins to slide back, squealing and laughing and being of no immediate help. Koushirou presses an uncertain hand to her back when they make it further up the beach.

"You ready?" Taichi asks, tilting his head back as if to see her directly. Mimi cheers her consent, lifting one arm up into the air. She returns it quickly around his neck the moment Taichi begins to move down the beach, his still bare feet kicking up dark water and sand as they go, his heels leaving heavier imprints along the ground. Koushirou holds back a few paces, watching warily for any signs that Mimi might fall, but Taichi is usually quick to adjust, and Mimi howls with laughter every time he hoists her back up. 

By the hill up to the parking lot, Taichi hesitates. Koushirou falls right behind him. 

"Think we can run it?" He asks Mimi. She immediately points up toward their destination and shouts, "Onwards!" as if commanding a loyal steed. 

Taichi complies, sand and dirt kicking up behind him as they race toward the top. All Koushirou can hear is the sound of Mimi's delighted laughter. 

He makes the decision to not run after them. The most exercise Koushirou is used to in a single day is the long trek between his desk and the copier down the hall. His thighs burn as he trudges up the hill after them. Tonight has been the equivalent of him participating in some iron man marathon and his body will not be happy with him come morning. 

He's surprised, and proud, that he isn’t heaving when he makes it to the top of the hill. 

"What took you so long?" Mimi asks, hovering at her side of the car. Taichi looks back over his shoulder where he had been leaning on the car's hood. Koushirou levels her with a look. 

"I didn't procure a ride on the express route." 

"Maybe next time," Taichi offers cheekily. Koushirou says nothing to that as Mimi moans about how cold it's become. 

On the foot rack underlining the doors, Koushirou spots a familiar pair of sandals sitting there, waiting for him. Wordlessly Taichi takes them from him across the car hood and drops them into Mimi's lap the moment she clambors into the passenger seat, still dripping wet. She stares at them, as if they had just materialized from thin air. 

Taichi slams the passenger door closed. 

Koushirou's opening the door to his own side when it startles him by opening wider. Taichi grins at him, his fingers sitting over the top of the door as Koushirou feels himself plop back into his seat. Taichi leans partially in through the door, his cologne tickling Koushirou's nose in a not unpleasant way. 

"Eat a little something when you get home," Taichi tells Mimi, "and drink some water. Double that for her," he points to Miyako in the back seat. Koushirou looks to Mimi's head and feels himself wince when he notices the glasses aren't tucked nicely over her head anymore. Most likely they're nestled between some rocks or lost in the sea somewhere. He hopes Miyako still keeps spares. 

Mimi grins back up at them .  "Roger, roger," she says, giving Taichi the gesture to say  okay.  He laughs as he pulls back. But he doesn't leave. His hand remains on the door, swinging it slightly. Koushirou looks up at him, feeling suddenly shy. "You too, okay?" Taichi says, his grin melting into some sort of smile that has Koushirou's heart stuttering to a halting beat.

"I'm not inebriated." 

"I know," Taichi laughs. "But it's good advice either way."

Koushirou isn't quite sure what to call the emotion that sweeps through him in that moment, his lips not sure themselves if they want to settle into a smile or a large, toothy grin. Instead Koushirou offers the same  okay symbol Mimi had thrown up and repeats, "Roger." 

Taichi's smile brightens even further, as he bids Koushirou a goodnight, shutting the car door after a quick check to make sure his limbs are tucked safely inside. Koushirou hears someone shouting in the distance, the words muffled on his end through the glass of the car, but he presumes it must be Yamato calling for the other man to hurry up. Taichi waves at one of the cars still in the lot, jogging over to it and disappearing around the other side. 

"Are we leaving?"

Koushirou rests his head on the steering wheel for a second. His chest feels light and heavy all at once, a dizzying combination made worse by the thundering beat of his heart. 

Despite the brisk summer evening outside, the car has kept some of the earlier warmth. It smells stale and too much like  new car , even though his mother's had it since he was in highschool. 

"Can we at least turn on the radio?" Mimi's looking at him with eyes still drowned in liquor. 

He breathes out and turns on the engine. Mimi cheers, plugging her phone into the auxiliary cord and filling the silence with the most blaring song she has on her playlist, belting out the lyrics all the way home. 

Koushirou doesn't mind. It keeps him from thinking about other things as he unconsciously mutters along, letting his spatial memory lead them to soft beds and floors that aren't made of dirt and sand. Miyako stays asleep even when they accidentally drop her on their way in the door to his place— mostly because Mimi tips over trying to slip off her sandals and takes them all down in a domino effect. At least she had something to break her fall, Koushirou thinks wryly, but he’ll take the darkening bruise on his elbow as a souvenir.

"God," Mimi groans after Koushirou gives her the full rundown the next morning. He knows her well enough that when she clutches at her head, it is not from the hangover, but mortification. "I can't believe this." 

"You've done worse," Koushirou says, comfortingly. 

" No,  " she hisses, hunching further over in her misery. Beside her on the sofa bed, Miyako groans and tosses the thin blanket over her head in a huff. Sand jumps off the sheets and pools between every crevice. It makes Koushirou's skin itch. "Not me!  You!  He sat in your lap for  hours  and you  still didn't get his number?" 

"That's what we're taking away from last night?"

"I raised you better than this, Izumi!" 

#digimon adventures #taishirou #taishiro #sparkle garbage #tw alcohol #Odaiba Day 2020 #It's literally 11:30 pm #Also no I didn't make a mistake on that word count #tho the whole thing is arguably a mistake lol #all the emphasis is gone again #gdi tumblr

[sloanerisette]

Jyoumi Challenge Day #27: Anniversary

Whew, this one is kind of late but still made it in time! I’ve been rewatching 02, and Mimi being in Odaiba for the anniversary had me wanting to do something a little different than just a traditional anniversary bit. I hope y’all enjoy!

---

“Can you believe that its already been three years?” Mimi asked as the two sat in the small fast food restaurant, looking out at the street and the people walking by while eating.

“Yes and no,” Joe shrugged, grabbing a fry to chew away at it for a moment, before he looked at her, “Yes because, well, we’re older now, but no because it does sort of feel like things have gone by so quickly.”

The group had arranged a memorial in a few days at the Fuji TV Station, to commemorate the defeat of Myotismon and the loss of so many friends, but Mimi had made sure to visit earlier to get a little extra time with her friends.

Plus, August first was the anniversary of the day they went to the Digital World for the first time, and for Mimi that day had come to hold significance for a lot of reasons.

“It feels like we’ve grown up so much since then…” she mused, pursing her lips as she absently dragged some fries through ketchup.

“You have, for sure,” Joe nodded, offering his girlfriend a warm smile.

“Oh? Well, that makes sense, you did fall for my womanly charms, after all,” Mimi said, flipping her hair and resting her chin on her palm, a sly, flirtatious grin, following with a wink.

Of course, that did it in an instant, and she was elated with his reaction: one leaving him bright red and flustered.

“I-I-I— I mean, I meant that—”

Each time he knew she was messing around, but each time he also couldn’t stop his brain from just about shutting down.

She placed her hand on his, patting it gently to calm him down.

“…I meant that you really grew up and matured during your time in the Digital World…” he sighed, shaking his head.

“You are the sweetest. You grew up, too. Into such a brave, caring guy,” she nodded.

Making him flush from complimenting him to no end was even better than making him flush from teasing him. Both, though, were her some of her favorite things to do.

“You know what one of my favorite things about today?”

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he laughed softly.

“Oh yeah, then what is it?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

“It was our first night in the Digital World. Together.”

“And we were both so terrified. And miserable,” she sighed, opting to take a large bite of her burger so as to not worry about all of that horrible, restless night.

“I mean, I wasn’t terrified,” he said with a huff, looking out of the window and scratching his cheek.

Of course he was, but he had tried to be strong for Mimi that night. He didn’t want all of that to be seen as some kind of… farce.

“Its ok that you were,” she said with a slight frown, “We were all scared that night. Plus the most important part was that you were there to help comfort me.”

“R-Really?” he asked, his head whipping back to look at her. The very notion of his question and surprise left her laughing.

“Of course. Even if you did bug me about that first aid bag, it still helped me feel better. Probably the only reason I was able to sleep that night.”

It helped his chest and throat feel less tight, and he exhaled softly.

“I mean, it was your duty to carry the bag…” he said, tapping his chin in thought.

Mimi stuck her tongue out at him, “Here I am trying to reminisce and you’re blaming me for that stupid bag!” she said, now pouting.

The way that his thoughtful expression turned into a small, cheeky grin though left her bewildered.

“Oh my gosh, this is a first,” she laughed, “You made a joke!”

Joe started laughing, too, placing his hand over his stomach and trying to stifle his laughter as best he could so as to not pull too much attention to their table.

“I’ve made jokes before! I make plenty of them! You can just ask Gomamon,” he told her with a simple nod. Granted, it was usually from him being on the receiving end of Gomamon’s own riffing.

“If you say so, sweetie,” she cooed sweetly and teasingly.

With smiles on their faces, they continued to eat, enjoying having each other around when that was such a rare occasion now. Something to be treasured and cherished when they were able to have each other close. Thanks to the Digimon Emperor, it was hard to get the Digital Gates working right, the things being fickle and opening and closing on what seemed like a whim. Bringing Mimi out to Odaiba for the three year anniversary was a stroke of luck that none of them— least of all Joe— took for granted.

Lunch was finished, and the two went to walk through Odaiba, enjoying an activity that they hadn’t done for so long now, and were glad to be able to do, even with as mundane as it was.

“What was your favorite time there?” she asked curiously as they crossed the street to head into a park.

“Well, that is pretty tough, what with all the times we had to fight dangerous and evil monsters…” he mused. Mimi playfully swatted at his arm, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, yes, I was wondering if you preferred to fight Etemon, Myotismon, or MetalSeadramon,” she said, leading to the two laughing. To the both of them, it felt so strange, to be talking about Digimon and the Digital World, while still being able to be a normal couple, even if they were anything but.

And that wasn’t even counting the fact that she was cool, calm, and composed, compared to him being tall, gangly, and, well, a dork.

Thinking on that, though, and how she had cooed and complimented him near endlessly whenever he brought it up, left him realizing how lucky he was.

She nudged his side with their arms, looking up at him, “Well? Which was it?” she asked.

“Honestly? I really did enjoy that time we went to Gennai’s house. It felt… normal,” he paused, “As normal as it can be visiting an old man in an alternate world, of course. I mean, that was our first normal night there. We had a huge meal, nice futons to rest on… it was nice.”

“That dinner was really nice,” she nodded, Joe looking to her.

“What about you?”

She smiled sheepishly, “Well…”

He tilted his head curiously, “Well?”

“I… really liked when we went to go find our friends.”

Joe seemed confused, “Really? Even with as stressed as we were?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I mean, I felt safe… well, once MetalEtemon was gone, of course. Ugh, I can’t believe we had to deal with him twice,” she sighed.

“No kidding.”

“It just… felt like we had come so far. You and me. You know, from that first night,” she nodded, “We went from being scared kids who didn’t want to be there to kids who grew up and had to find friends to help save the world.”

The sounds of cicadas droned on and on as Mimi fell silent. Joe looked down at her, worried, giving her hand a light squeeze.

“You ok?” he finally asked, voice soft and shaky. Mimi nodded.

“Mhm. I just… this day feels so important, you know? Everything changed. I know that the big day was when we defeated Myotismon, but we wouldn’t have gotten there in the first place if we weren’t all there at camp.”

Joe smiled softly, “We really did grow up, huh?”

“More than we probably wanted to,” she grinned, a soft laugh bubbling from her.

Their walk through the park had led them to a spot by the water, where the rebuilt Big Sight was visible off in the distance.

“…Kind of wild that after all this time, now there’s some new kids leading the charge to save the Digital World,” Joe said, staring out at the site of such a major event in his relatively short life.

“It lets us relax more,” she said, already expecting Joe’s reaction, and her lips turned upwards as she saw the completely, utterly exasperated look on his face.

“Relax? You do know who you’re talking to, right?” he asked, looking at her. Mimi wasted no time and leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

“My favorite person?”

That exasperated look faded as quickly as it showed up just because of that one simple gesture.

“”I don’t regret a single moment of any of this,” he told her.

“Me, either. No matter how hard it is. We got to meet our best friends, we got to meet each other again after so long. We wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for this day.”

The thought had occurred to Joe a few times— how they wouldn’t be here if not for the Digital World— but the way Mimi put it had him understanding the gravity and the importance this day held for her. For all of them.

For the two of them, specifically.

She took his hands in hers, squeezing them tight, “I know its not our actual anniversary, but… happy anniversary?”

“Happy anniversary,” he said back, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead.

She was so ecstatic, the pink tinge on her cheeks matching her hair, smiling wide.

“By the way,” she said suddenly.

“…Yeah?” he asked, tone clearly wary.

“Dinner tonight? Yolei wants to hear all about our story so we’re getting sushi.”

“Hearing you talk about all of our old times together? Sounds perfect.”

#jyoumi challenge #digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #jyoumi #joe kido #jyou kido #mimi tachikawa #kido jyou #tachikawa mimi

[dark-raven-world]

Thanks @earlgreymon for these templates

Let's start with why Terriermon. When I was a kid (10/11 years) I had an imaginary friend called Tirumon, who was like Bayleaf and Terriermon were mixed together. And I used to love saying "Momantai" all the time.

I have the Friendship Crest (even tattooed in me). Friends are one of the most important things in my life. And I will not measure efforts to help them.

I will always have my glasses, a necklace, a spoon (Joey tribianni taught me that) and a lighter in my backpack.

My ships were a little messy but very ponctual. Except for Sora/Taichi/Yamato one because they are my poly ship otp forever.

I choose to put just one Digimon each level to be prettier to see.

That's it. HAPPY ODAIBA MEMORIAL DAY

#digimon #ship #i love one Takeru and Hikari #give me my ship

[digimonadventuretimelines]

[07- Meeting the Alternate World’s Chosen Children]

“So you came from another world…?” Takeru asked the wandering trio “But why are you here?”

“Uhh…” Daichi had yet no idea how to answer that question, but tried to not reveal much details “We were travelling through Space-Time network and we ended up here by accident.”

“Hm, he does seem like Motomiya but does not speak like Motomiya” Miyako shrugged.

“At least he helped us to recover that area” Iori mused, “thanks anyway.”

“I’m Daichi. These are Ulforce and Natsu, they’re traveling with me.”

“Nice to meet you, Daichi” Hikari smiled “I’m Hikari, and these are Takeru, Iori and Miyako. We’re part of the Chosen Children group.”

“I noticed it” the boy nodded “Say, why is mr. Motomiya Daisuke against you all? Weren’t he part of the group too?”

“Pff like that birdbrain would’ve been on our side” Miyako snorted and commented with disgust “He’s a bully! That’s it.”

“Um…” Natsu avoided looking at the group “The Daisuke from our world is nice and caring. Not like this world’s Daisuke.”

“... He was like that here too” Hikari said with a sad tone of voice “But everything changed, he says he’s trying to protect us but… He’s hurting the digimon now.”

“May I ask what happened?” Daichi frowned. Something must have changed from his world’s timeline.

“... Three years ago, my brother and our friends had been summoned to save the Digital World from the evil forces, but they had to return and find the eighth Chosen Child. But with them, a strong enemy named Vamdemon came before and took the entire Odaiba as his hostage, with the power of his nightmare army.”

“Hmm, and...?”

“Many children had been taken away from their families, and Daisuke was one of them.”

“We assume he had been convinced to join forces with Ichijouji Ken, the Digimon Kaiser” Takeru added “Because before that, he was willing to help to beat the Kaiser.”

“Makes sense-- Wait you said ‘Ichijouji Ken’ ?!”

“Yes, the prodigy boy” Miyako pouted “He’s pretty but crazy! He acts all as a god-like figure, but he’s a dummy!”

Daichi glanced at Natsu. So, all the kids he had met right now are part of the friend circle of his parents. He would assume things are like that because it’s an alternate world or he could expect to all of them being related to the legend of the Chosen Children.

“... But why did he do that?” Daichi wondered “Why would he join the villain’s side?”

“We don’t know…” Iori shook his head “But that’s unforgivable. We will stop them no matter what happens.”

Hikari silently gasped. Natsu noticed that though, same about Daichi. Ulforce punched the palm of his hand and smirked:

“Oh? Then it’s a deal! We’re going to stop’em!!”

“Hikari…?” Tailmon seemed concerned.

“I’m okay… Don’t worry.”

“... my dad and mrs. Hikari were close to each other as much mrs. Hikari and mr. Takeru” Daichi thought, having a few memories of him witnessing a couple of encounters and parties before, “She must be suffering because of having to fight a friend…”

===========

After returning to the base...

“Motomiya.”

Daisuke looked at Ken, “Huh?”

“Who’s that kid and why does he look like you?”

“And ya think I know!? He was watchin’ the fight and said you were in trouble.”

“Then, why did he try to stop us, you airhead?!”

“Okay, you need to stop callin’ me like that. And second, I have no idea why that kid did that. Maybe he thought I was with the Chosen Children. Like if I would join the side of those losers heh.”

“That kid will be a nuisance if we don’t discover how to handle him and his digimon.”

“... He has a V-mon too… Very powerful. I haven’t seen a digimon catch Fladramon like that before.”

“... I will have to research about that digimon and take precautions against it.”

“I wonder how could he evolve that V-mon with a Dark Tower stopping the rest from evolving.”

“The same process of the Digimental perhaps…?” Ken began his research on the computer “No, it’s impossible… My digivice was supposed to suppress evolution and keep them under my control.”

“Yeah but we have school tomorrow, better we go home--”

“I have no time to think of school when there’s a new meddling kid ruining all of my strategy!”

“Your family don’t know yet and no one else but us and them. If we vanish from out of the blue they will call the police and then all our hard work will be in vain. No one believe those digimon are real, only us and the Chosen Children.”

“Fine, you won. I’m going home, but after school we will continue the research.”

 ============

Daichi felt conflicted: Should he stay and discover what made Daisuke join forces with the Digimon Kaiser? Or should he leave…?

“Daichan, we need to go.”

Natsu would vote for the latter option. She waited for the 02 team walk away to whisper to the boy:

“You cannot mess with this world’s timeline.”

“I… I understand. Then, let’s go home.”

She nodded and got the pendant, but the pinky sand inside had disappeared. That wasn’t a problem in their minds, so when Daichi pointed the digivice to the crystal…

“Huh?”

… Nothing happened. No gate opened. It was like that…

“I guess this means we’re stuck in this world ‘til we discover how to recharge the pendant” Ulforce commented with a shrug.

“Is it what should happen, Natsu?” and the boy found that troublesome, but he had to ask.

“I think so… I didn’t expect to use all power in one row” she muttered “Oh! I think we will have to stay for a while, maybe until it is ready again.”

“And how much time it will take?”

“Um… Maybe days. Or weeks.”

“I hope I can go home in time…” Daichi felt defeated. The imagination of his mother calling officer Ichijouji all again caused him goosebumps “... Or I will be in trouble, again.”

“Hey Daichi, won’t you come?” Miyako had returned and stood in front of them “Hey, what’s the problem?”

“We’re stuck here” Natsu answered “At least for a while.”

“I see… Hey Takeru! Can Daichi, Natsu and Ulforce stay with you tonight?”

“I don’t see why not, but why?”

“They’re stuck in our world. It’s temporary but I don’t think it’s safe to leave them here.”

 ==========

“Say, how’s your world?” Once they arrived at the Takaishi household, Takeru decided to prepare something for themselves to eat “Ah, don’t worry. My mom is coming late today, I will phone her later to tell about you’re staying here today.”

“My world is… pretty much like yours, except you’re friends with mr. Motomiya” Daichi answered “And I may say, with mr. Ichijouji too.”

“... I wish that were like this here too” that sounded a bit sad…? “Daisuke’s not a bad person, at least not how Hikari, Taichi and my brother said. For some reason he hates me because he thinks Hikari and I are a couple” he chuckled “But… I wish we had been friends.”

Daichi looked down, it didn’t seem a nice story. So, according to those people Takeru mentioned, Daisuke isn’t a bad person despite him being in the wrong side in this world.

“Do you… Tried to talk with him before?” and Takeru’s guest spoke “Or ms. Hikari?”

“We tried” he turned the stove off, opened the instant ramen cups and poured hot water inside to prepare them “Daisuke said it was for everyone’s sake, but… We don’t know what Ichijouji had told him. Unlike Miyako and Iori, I think he needs to snap out of it.”

“I see…”

“Why were you space-time traveling, then?”

“... I’m not sure if I can…”

“He’s trying to save an important person” Natsu said with a serious voice “That’s all.”

“And then you ended up in this world instead.”

“Yes, exactly that.”

Daichi carefully looked at the goggles on his neck, under the scarf. Unlike Miyako and Iori outfits, Daichi’s blazer and scarf didn’t vanish once he went to the human world of that alternate timeline. It was strange, but… At least the scarf can hide the goggles.

“It’s done” Takeru smiled and then put the cups on the table with the chopsticks “Sorry I’m not a good cook, so sometimes I rely on instant food.”

“It’s okay” Daichi chuckled “my father has a restaurant so I know a few tricks.”

“Lucky you!” he laughed “My parents are divorced, but they let my brother and I visit each other. Sometimes I go see them, we had recently moved to Odaiba. I think this is a good signal… That maybe mom and dad being at least acquaintances now.”

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.”

The silence fell upon them, quite awkwardly. Daichi had so many thoughts and questions but felt it wouldn’t be appropriate for that moment. Not when he was sure it’s hard to deal with divorced parents. Him, a child with no experience on it… Also Takeru’s son in his world does not share this same fate either. Maybe no one Daichi knew has divorced parents.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Takeru’s question made Daichi look at him.

“How is my family in your world?”

Daichi couldn’t answer that. Not that he knew, but even if he did he couldn’t answer it properly. Instead…

“Look, things may be hard but I can assure you that it’s the same as here” Natsu said with a serious voice “But you and Yamato are happy at least by seeing each other.”

“I see…”

“I never had seen a digimon like you before,” Patamon was looking at Ulforce, now on a lower form -- Chibimon “I mean… You look like a Plotmon with that Holy Ring on your neck.”

“I feel insulted. How can you NOT know another of my species!?” and he snorted.

“We do. But he’s working with the Kaiser.”

“But why?” Daichi mused “Why would they do the opposite of protecting the digimon?”

“Hmm…” Natsu seemed thoughtful.

“Do you know something?” and he asked her “Anything that could help…?”

“Let’s ask him after school tomorrow” she decided “I’m pretty sure he’s still living on the same place here.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Daichi got surprised by that “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that…!”

“He leaves school in the first instance the class is over, but we don’t know where he goes” Takeru spoke “If you be lucky enough you can try to meet him.”

“Then it’s settled” Natsu replied with a nod “Once the class is over, we will meet Daisuke and ask him directly why he is doing that.”

 =========

In the mysterious palace connecting each world and time, Skuld watched carefully Daichi’s steps, with ClavisAngemon behind her. He couldn’t read her mind, and kept questioning himself what was she thinking. Shouldn’t they intervene and bring Daichi, Ulforce and Natsu back?

“Master Skuld…”

“No, let’s see what he will do. This is his first trial.”

#datl text chapter #daichi arc phase 1

[dragonandtiger]

Today on Odaiba Day, my thoughts turn to him who gave his life so that we might live. I'm speaking of course, of Wizardmon. Perhaps it was mentioned at some point earlier in the story and my memory fails, but what is the official word on Digimon that die on Earth instead of the Digital World? Obviously we're not seeing any old friends while the Village of Beginnings is still borked, but does Wizardmon, or even Gotsumon and Pumpkinmon have a hope at reincarnation?

Happy Odaiba Day to all our fellow Digimon fans out there!

Don't worry, we haven't forgotten about those poor unfortunate souls who got killed in the Real World. Their part in the story is coming.

#Ask #Digimon Adventure #Spoilers #Odaiba Day #xer0sama