Chapter Text
The Riders were split between five foes, that was determined quickly. Jeanne had sent word (a letter appeared, somehow), that she and Aguilera would be facing the Himiko Crisper. It was decided that two of Mr. Kamiyama’s friends, Ms. Shindai and Ms. Sophia, would join them. Revi was facing the Edison Crisper, and he would be joined by Mr. Kadota and Mr. Kamiyama’s friend, Mr. Fukamiya. The Khufu Crisper would be fought by four of Mr. Kamiyama’s allies, Mr. Yuri, Mr. Ogami, Mr. Daishinji, and Mr. Akamichi. Up against the Leonidas Crisper was Tamaki, aided by Mr. Kamiyama’s friends Mr. Shindo and Mr. Shindai, the brother of the one who was fighting the Himiko Crisper.
That left Mr. Kamiyama and Makoto himself to fight Diablo.
While Makoto didn’t particularly like the odds of just the two of them against such a powerful demon, there wasn’t much getting around it. All the others would be needed elsewhere, and as it were, Koushiro wasn’t ready to fight.
Before they leave, Karizaki calls Tamaki over, “I’ve got something for you,”
Tamaki blinked, confused, “You… do?”
“I do,” He holds out the Driver he’s been working on to Tamaki, “Just be careful, it still needs some adjustments, but it’s good enough for something as bad as this.”
Taking the Driver, Tamaki nods, “Got it.”
Makoto would be honest that he feels a little better that Tamaki has the Driver, since there’s no getting around fighting like this. Anything to protect Tamaki even just a little more. It makes Makoto even more glad that Hana was safe and likely far away from any fights. Especially given how Hana was when it came to fights.
Yet as everyone began to file out, Makoto couldn’t help how tense he was, the nerves building in him. Fighting the Deadmans felt… easier, than a demon like Diablo. The Deadmans never seem too dangerous, to him, even though he knows they are. But if they wanted him dead or otherwise out of the way, they had plenty of opportunities. Diablo, he suspects, is a different story. Diablo, from all he’s heard, likely wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.
“We don’t have long,” Daiji declared, surveying the Riders. “Whatever Diablo’s up to, it’s going to be completed soon, that much we can tell. So, it’s now or never.”
Mr. Kamiyama frowned, “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Mr. Koushiro?”
“I think he’ll find us if he’s ready,” Makoto said, pleased that he sounded confident in that statement. He really wasn’t sure whether or not Koushiro would make his way to them. In a way, it depended on Koushiro. On if he could work out whatever was holding him back – Makoto didn’t know what it was, despite his suspicions.
“Like you said, we have the aid of Mr. Kamiyama and his friends,” Daiji reminded, “I’m sure we’ll be fine without him.”
Everyone was preparing, it seemed. Ms. Sudo and Mr. Shindo were speaking, it’s obviously something important. Makoto gets the impression the two are close, and they’re both clearly aware of the danger that Mr. Shindo was about to go into. It could easily be the last time they see each other. He notes that Daiji has found his way to where Hiromi was, just the slightest worry leaking into his expression. They were friends, that was for certain, and Daiji was concerned. Makoto couldn’t blame him.
If something does happen to anyone, though, Makoto hopes it will be him. Or even, in a more selfish way, anyone other than Tamaki. He doesn’t think their parents fully understand what they’re about to go do, and Makoto doesn’t want to be the one to tell them Tamaki was hurt, or worse. And, of course, Makoto would prefer no harm comes to his brother. It was selfish, certainly, but Makoto didn’t really care. He saw no harm in being selfish when it came to his family.
Still, the possible fate of humanity, that was a lot. Makoto is no fighter, he never really has been, so this was… a lot. More than he’d ever really wanted to take. But at the end of the day… he’d put himself in this position, and while he’ll never really be a hero, this is good enough. If his parents have at least one of their sons come home, that’s all he can hope for.
“You look tense,” Mr. Kamiyama notes.
He was a kind man, at least that was the impression Makoto got. He knew more about all of this, about being a Rider, than Makoto. Which was a strange thought, mostly because Makoto didn’t really know many other Riders. Just Mr. Kadota, and more loosely, Aguilera. In a way, it all made Makoto feel a bit bad knowing he might lie to him. Knowing that he might fudge the truth, like he did with everyone. But Mr. Kamiyama was far less connected to him than any of those other people.
And so Makoto answers, it’s not a lie, but it doesn’t feel like the whole truth. “Diablo is a bit different than what I’m used to fighting.”
“Unlike Captain Kadota there, or even your brother, you haven’t trained for this.” Mr. Kamiyama nodded, “so having the weight of protecting people isn’t an easy one to bear. Isn’t something you’re prepared for.”
It’s almost a surprise that Mr. Kamiyama had described it so easily. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s a little out of my league.”
“Maybe not that. You seem to be doing pretty well, and I can see you’ve made an effort to improve yourself. To make up for the lack of preparation.”
“You’re giving me too much credit,” Makoto insisted. The last thing he wanted was for Mr. Kamiyama to get the wrong idea. “I just want my family to be safe. I really don’t care about much else.”
“And that’s reason enough to fight,”
“There are plenty of people who would disagree, Mr. Kamiyama.”
If one was going to fight, it would probably be better to have some big goal, or at least some desire to help people. Like Tamaki, who wanted to protect people. Makoto had no desires like that, no big goal to save anyone other than his family. It didn’t bother him, really, but he didn’t want anyone to think he was better than he was.
It didn’t matter much, anyway. Soon they’d be too busy fighting to really focus on that. Really, Makoto preferred it that way.
---
Hana could only wait on the Riders who were aiding Fenix, out of sight of the Himiko Crisper with Sakura. She really hoped that whoever was coming were people who didn’t know her – keeping quiet around her brothers especially wasn’t easy. But there were other Riders involved, now, and they didn’t know her, so she wouldn’t have to worry so much about not saying anything if it were them.
Then the two appear, one red and one purple, out some strange portal that Hana rather quickly decides not to question. Sakura smiled at the sight of them – not happy, exactly, more a smile of relief that they’d arrive and a smile to help her slip into her persona as Jeanne. The two’s arrival just made Hana happy to have to stop hiding.
Standing, Sakura hurries over to the two, as they’d caught the Himiko Crisper’s attention anyway, with Hana hurrying behind. “I hope you’re ready for a fight,” Sakura says to the two, only slightly hesitating to place herself behind Hana. “Aguilera will be your main aid, but I’ll do what I can.”
The other two nod and all four dodge out of the way of the attack, Sakura keeping her position behind Hana. While Sakura was perfectly capable of fighting, Hana had seen that for herself, she was obviously being careful here, when it came to the Himiko Crisper. Then again, the only thing remotely like a demon Hana knew Sakura had fought before was Tamaki.
Pushing the red Rider away, the Himiko Crisper attacked, the red Rider already just barely out of the way, the purple Rider was off to the other side and safe. Hana and Sakura were a different story, Hana grabbing Sakura and letting her wings bring them up and out of the way. When they land, regrouped with the red and the purple Rider, Hana lets go of Sakura.
“I really don’t like her,” Hana said, resting the back on her hand on her hip.
Sakura sighed, “I think it will be best that I leave this to you three,” she didn’t seem too pleased. But the look she gave Hana filled Hana with a certain confidence. “Still, I’m sure you three can handle it. You have the aid of my queen, after all.”
Hana nodded, “I won’t lose!” Quickly, she decided it was time to test out the Vistamp that Sakura had gotten earlier, pulling it out and activating it.
Sounding curious, the red Rider asked, “What will that do?”
“We’re about to find out,” Hana declared, pressing the Turtle Vistamp against her Driver. Then her kunai morphed into a bazooka. “ooh,” She couldn’t help but laugh a little.
Barely, she can hear the purple Rider say, “Oh dear…”
And then Sakura laughed.
---
Ikki only recognizes one of the Riders that arrives to help fight against the Edison Crisper, that being Demons. The other one was yellow, and he must be one of those other Riders that was aiding in the fight against Diablo. Well, with something like Diablo, Ikki was pretty happy to have the help, anything to make sure this gets dealt with.
Not that he thought he was going to avoid the consequences of this, there was no way something this big avoided notice, and since Diablo’s awakening was Vice’s fault… yeah, Ikki wasn’t looking forward to that. But they had to deal with Diablo and the Crispers, first.
“Revi,” Kadota greets.
“Demons,” Ikki doesn’t see the point in wasting much time on pleasantries, pulling out the T-Rex Vistamp. “The Edison Crisper is very… well electric, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
The yellow Rider that stood beside Kadota responded, “Well so am I.”
An electricity-based Rider, then. Well yellow was a fitting color, in that case. Not that Ikki thinks learning much about these Riders will do much good, since it would probably be unlikely that they’d ever encounter them again. Certainly, at least, they wouldn’t be fighting against them, the only place where it would likely be all that important to take note about them now.
“You know, you could let me out and I could help,” Vice suggested, hovering nearby and sounding a little too eager.
“No, it’s your fault we’re in this mess.” Ikki was quick to answer, then stamped himself with the T-Rex Vistamp, transforming into the T-Rex Deadman.
Though he can no longer see Vice, and Vice’s mouth was hidden anyway, Ikki just knows he’s pouting. “Aw…”
---
Though Tamaki had used a Driver and the Wolf Vistamp to transform before, this would be the first time he actually did anything while transformed, let alone fight. Still, he tells himself it won’t matter, because he’s trained plenty, and he’s fought enough with the Vistamp that even with the difference of the Driver being involved he thinks he’ll be okay. Besides, he has Mr. Shindo and Mr. Shindai fighting with him, so it would be fine.
That didn’t change that he may or may not be a tad tense. Being stressed was not an uncommon state for him, but it still didn’t make it any more pleasant. To some degree, though, he found that being transformed like this did comfort him, not entirely, but enough.
And then they go through the weird portal thing and find themselves in view of the Leonidas Crisper. He noticed the three quickly, leaving Tamaki little time to think too much about his feelings, and next thing they knew they were fighting. Quick enough, Tamaki finds himself focusing on the fight more than his own worries.
There was, after all, a lot to focus on that mattered far more than his skill at messing up.
---
Makoto and Mr. Kamiyama were the only ones who didn’t have to travel somewhere far to confront Diablo. Diablo and the center of his star were at Mt. Fuji, so while not just down the street, was at least in the same country. Not that Makoto really cared how far it was, the only real important part was that they knew where Diablo was and were ready to fight.
And sure enough, upon their arrival, there was Diablo.
“Are you ready for this, Makoto?” Mr. Kamiyama asked, sending a concerned glance towards Makoto.
Already reaching for his Driver and the Squid Vistamp, Makoto answered, “Ready enough. Worst case scenario, I die.” That was a lie. As it were, him dying – and only him – was the best-case scenario. Worst case was… well a lot worse.
“Don’t say that,”
Shrugging, Makoto placed the Driver on his waist, “I’m afraid I don’t have a very good sense of humor.” He activated his Vistamp, “Now, it’s probably best we get on with this.”
He didn’t have high hopes for their fight against Diablo. They hadn’t fared particularly well before, and nothing really had changed to give them an advantage. Still, they had to do all they could to defeat Diablo, unlike the demons Makoto had faced before, he would certainly cause a lot more damage. If Koushiro was right, he’d pretty much end humanity.
The two transformed, Makoto let the armor settle over him with the knowingly vain hope that it would make much of a difference, let his weapon appear in his hand. Mr. Kamiyama holds his sword, ready to fight. And now they’ve gotten Diablo’s attention.
“I see you’ve come to fight me again.” Diablo said. There was this energy gather around all of them, the energy Diablo was obviously trying to get from whatever he was planning. Who knew what would happen once it was done.
“This will be the last time,” Mr. Kamiyama responded, and Makoto really couldn’t argue with that. Either they defeat Diablo or they die.
Diablo didn’t seem all that concerned, “Because this will be your last fight.”
And then the fight begins. It’s all Makoto can do is manage to keep up, despite limbs that were already sore from the previous fight and the exhaustion that was setting in from getting into multiple fights in one day. He wasn’t really a fighter, he couldn’t take this much exertion. Mr. Kamiyama, at least, seemed to be faring better, though he certainly had more experience.
It was unfortunate, really, that it was only the two of them fighting Diablo. Makoto could already tell that they weren’t going to be able to defeat him, let alone keep fighting for much longer. From Diablo’s attacks, Makoto knew he’d be covered in bruises and cuts, a familiar problem to be dealt with later – provided he even survived. Not that Makoto had high hopes for that, even with Mr. Kamiyama’s aid.
What good was defeating the Crispers when they couldn’t even defeat Diablo?
They’re knocked down by one of Diablo’s attacks, sending both of them out of their transformations. Not a good sign. Especially not as Diablo loomed over them. Well, it wasn’t like he’d expected to live.
Then a dark purple blur shoves Diablo away, and standing in front of Makoto and Mr. Kamiyama was Koushiro’s demon, wings spread as though to further protect the two. Running up beside him came Koushiro, looking at Diablo with a new fervor in his eyes. “Good job!” He cheered, raising a hand in the air. It held a Vistamp, though it had a different appearance to Koushiro’s Dragonfly Vistamp.
“We’re here to defeat Diablo, after all, and it would be unfortunate for any other Riders to fall at Diablo’s hands,” His demon said.
Koushiro nodded, “Right!” He turned to look at Makoto and Mr. Kamiyama, “We’re here to help.”
Pulling themselves up off the ground, Makoto commented, “You seemed to have figured it out.”
“Thank your mom for that – she’s really amazing you know.”
“I know,” Makoto laughed a little, though his lungs were frankly still heaving a little from the fight. “though I think we have more important concerns.”
“Oh, right,” Koushiro turned his attention back to Diablo. “I think we can take him for a bit, but if we’re going to defeat him, we’ll probably need your guy’s help.”
Mr. Kamiyama nodded, “Of course, we’ll do what we can.”
Then Koushiro cheered, pulling out his Driver and placing it on his waist, “Great!” then he activated the Vistamp – the Emperor Dragonfly Vistamp, Makoto was right that it had changed. As the two transformed, both gained armor – the demon had already had some, effectively, but now his matched with Koushiro’s, similar to before but different. Particularly, Koushiro’s own wings were present, and seemed to function in someways as something of a cape. “Now… it’s time for the Riders created by your own actions, Diablo! Kamen Rider Hawker!”
“Kamen Rider Tombo!” Koushiro’s demon, apparently named Tombo, declared alongside him. The two hurry to fight Diablo.
Makoto reached for his Vistamp again, “Well, I think that’s our cue.”
Mr. Kamiyama nodded, “I think so too.”
Like Tombo and Koushiro’s own appearance, though far brighter and harder to miss, there’s a flash and a different sword comes flying to Mr. Kamiyama’s hand. Unlike the sword he usually had, red and at times burning, this one was blue and seemed to sparkle. It had come from the sky, it seemed, and were it not for the fact he’d seen so many transforming sword wielders today, Makoto would probably have questioned where it came from more. But he wasn’t so crazy as to try to question magic swords.
Around them, that building energy dissipated – Makoto’s best guess was that the others had managed to defeat the Crispers. He wondered if that had something to do with the appearance of this new sword, perhaps whatever the Crispers were doing was blocking it.
Well, anything to stand a better chance against Diablo, though Makoto’s hopes were a bit higher now that they had Koushiro and Tombo’s help. Transforming, he and Mr. Kamiyama begin to aid Koushiro and Tombo in their fight. Makoto was certainly the weakest of the four, between his exhaustion and that both Koushiro and Mr. Kamiyama had gotten a form stronger than what they were using before. Though he’d likely never say it out loud, he didn’t mind letting them take the lead.
Soon enough, Diablo seems suitably weakened and Makoto can recognize the movements that the other three make as preparing to finish him. Thus, he figures he should probably help them, just to be safe. Besides, he thinks he has enough energy to do that much, at least.
So the four of them launch into the air, Koushiro and Tombo first, followed by Mr. Kamiyama and Makoto. Then they kick, an action just familiar enough Makoto doesn’t question it, but foreign enough he wonders if Koushiro’s instinct for it comes from stories.
Even Diablo couldn’t survive that, it seems, as he explodes and then there’s nothing left.
Knowing he’s gone, their armor disappears, Tombo along with it. Koushiro stares at where Diablo once was, Emperor Dragonfly Vistamp still in his hand. “It’s… over. Diablo’s… Diablo’s gone.”
“He is,” Mr. Kamiyama agreed, “You did it.”
“You did what you set out to do, Mr. Koushiro.” Makoto nodded. “Though I suppose the question for you from here is: now what?”
Koushiro laughed, joyful and sad and bitter all at once. “It really isn’t a question, Makoto. It never was.”
That didn’t sound right. “I don’t follow.”
“The reason why I was always so single mindedly focused on Diablo, on defeating him no matter what happened to me… was because no matter what, I wouldn’t live past today. Not really.” Koushiro looked down, staring at the Vistamp in his hand. “If I died, that was that, but if I lived… well, sooner or later I’ll disappear.”
“Oh,” Makoto’s eyes widened, realizing what Koushiro was saying. “your timeline doesn’t exist anymore.”
He nodded, “Exactly. Even if I’m still born… removed from Diablo and the hellscape created, from his life raised by my Kari-papa… that Koushiro wouldn’t be me. And he’d never travel back in time like this, for this specific event.” Koushiro sounded resigned. Then again, it sounded like he’d known for a while that this would happen. That he’d accepted it regardless of how he felt.
Makoto could understand that feeling.
“No matter what, you’d effectively die.” He can’t help but sigh, “so now it’s only a matter of time.”
“Only a matter of time.” Koushiro repeated with a nod. He glanced at his own hand, which began to shimmer and fade. “Though it seems that time is already upon us.”
Taking a step towards Koushiro, Mr. Kamiyama said, “You did good.”
Koushiro responded with a smile, “Thank you.” Then he turned his attention to Makoto, “Makoto, if I could… I have a couple favors to ask of you.”
Since this was the end for Koushiro, Makoto felt an obligation to at least hear him out. “I’ll do my best.”
Digging through his jacket pocket, Koushiro began, “Firstly, I’d like you to give this to Karizaki. It’s from my Kari-papa.” He pulled out a crinkled and slightly torn envelope. Makoto took it, curious but not willing to pry. It had no label of any kind, but maybe it didn’t need it.
“I take it there’s something else, too?”
“Secondly,” Koushiro held out the Emperor Dragonfly Vistamp, “I’d like you to hold on to this, since it’ll be of no use to me. If possible, I’d like it to go to the me of this timeline, maybe it could help him one day.”
Taking that too, Makoto regarded it for a moment, “That one might be a little harder. I’ll have to find you, and I don’t even know how old you are.”
“About forty… uh, forty-eight, I think. If I’m born around the same time, it should be in the next year or so.” Koushiro answered, “And as for finding me, well… You won’t have to look far. Thanks to you… I got to meet my parents, and my big brothers too! I got to meet family that I hadn’t dreamed of meeting in a long time.”
Brow furrowed, Makoto began, “You mean…?”
The fading and the shimmers have grown, Koushiro was nearly gone at this point. He smiled, bigger and more genuine than Makoto had seen him smile. It looked like it might hurt his cheeks to hold it for too long. He might even had begun to cry. “Now, Koushiro Igarashi can disappear, and he can be happy. Thank you, Makoto.”
Koushiro Igarashi fades away, shimmering out of existence. Any further words that Makoto might have had were stuck in his throat.
Mr. Kamiyama stands beside him, “So he was your brother.”
“So it seems,” Makoto choked out, “I… wasn’t expecting that.”
“That’s understandable. We should probably head back, though.”
Makoto regarded the Vistamp he held in one hand and the envelope he held in the other. “Yeah, I guess we should. Ah, thanks for the help, Mr. Kamiyama.”
“Of course,” Mr. Kamiyama smiled.
---
“Aguilera and Jeanne told us to return this to you,” Sophia (Kamen Rider Calibur) said, as Reika Shindai (Kamen Rider Sabela) held out the Turtle Vistamp to George. Obviously that they were talking to them and the crisis now appeared to be averted was alone enough to make George nearly vibrate with excitement. He needed to get as many autographs as possible.
Of course, there was also the Vistamp they had gotten back from Jeanne and Aguilera, something that George was a little surprised by. “Oh, they actually gave it back. Well, that’s good.” He examined it for a moment before asking, “What did it do when Aguilera used it?”
Sophia paled and Ms. Shindai answered with a slight hesitance, “It… gave her a rocket launcher.”
“Oh,” George blinked, “well, it worked as it should have, then. Still, we should probably try our best to keep this one from her.”
The only Riders that hadn’t come back were Makoto and Touma Kamiyama (Kamen Rider Saber, the Kamen Rider Saber!), but since it appeared Diablo was defeated, they should be back soon. George would be excited to hear how the fight went.
Tamaki had already returned the Driver to George, it seemed even he was able to notice that the Driver wasn’t quite finished – then again he’d helped George with testing the Driver Makoto had. George would put the finishing touches on after all this had settled down and then Fenix would have three Riders.
Finally, Makoto and Mr. Kamiyama return, looking a bit worse for wear and tired – or downright exhausted in Makoto’s case – but otherwise more or less fine. Daiji greets them first, “Congratulations on defeating Diablo,”
Mr. Kamiyama gave a smile, “We couldn’t of done it without Koushiro.”
“Speaking of,” George noted the absence of said person with them, which was strange if he had been fighting Diablo with them. “if he helped you, where is he now?” George was curious as to if he would try to keep up his time travel story.
“Gone,” Makoto answered, an unusual tone in his voice. He sounded… perhaps a little sad. “with Diablo defeated, his timeline doesn’t exist anymore, so he disappeared.”
A silence falls, a degree of uncertainty in the air. Tamaki glanced around before asking, “You mean that… he was telling the truth about being from the future?” he looks between Makoto and George, as though to try to verify the thought.
Thus, George groused, “I guess if he was from the future, then yes, he wouldn’t exactly exist as he was anymore,” he still didn’t fully believe the story, though.
“We saw him disappear,” Mr. Kamiyama said, “I think that’s answer enough.”
From there, everyone begins to settle down and leave, particularly Mr. Kamiyama’s friends. George is in a hurry to get as many autographs as possible – a quest that was being interrupted by Daiji insisting that his behavior was going to give everyone second hand embarrassment, not that George cared. Though as the last of them leave, Mr. Kamiyama himself alongside Mr. Shindo and Mr. Fukamiya, Makoto approached George.
Maybe it’s to gloat about being right to believe Koushiro. Even though Makoto played the role of quiet and mostly obedient, George didn’t believe that’s how he truly was. He was certain that Makoto was a lot more like him than he let on.
“Mr. Karizaki,” Makoto said, and that sadness hadn’t quite been shaken from his voice. How foreign. He produced an envelope and held it out to him, “Koushiro asked that I give this to you. I believe it’s from the version of you from his future.”
George may be skeptical still, but he can’t deny that he’s curious, so he takes it. Though instead of asking about it further, he asked, “Something’s changed, what’s got you so sad about that Koushiro?”
Makoto’s expression shifted and he looked uncertain, for a moment, before he answered. “Well Koushrio was- is- will be our brother.”
Overhearing that, Tamaki pulls a face, “Wait, our brother? You mean – like adopted, right?”
“He didn’t say, but I don’t really think so…”
“You mean mama and papa- ugh nope! I don’t want to think about that!” More than a little redness creeped across his cheeks. Makoto laughed, clearly amused by this reaction.
Interrupting, but giving Makoto and Tamaki a small smile, Hiromi told them, “You two should head home, now, we’ll finish up here. Get some rest, especially you, Makoto. You look almost as bad as Daiji can get.”
Daiji made an indignant sound, “I don’t get bad,”
It didn’t even look like Makoto believed that statement, but he and Tamaki leave anyway. Soon enough Hiromi and Daiji leave too, to finish all the paperwork left over. That left George alone in the lab, as usual, though this time he wasn’t too focused on his work. Instead, his focus was on the unlabeled envelope that seemed to have come from Koushiro. From the future.
His curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the envelope, pulling out a worn and crinkled paper with smudges of dirt. It looked old, perhaps written a while ago.
“To my younger self,”
The handwriting certainly looked like George’s own, that much was certain.
“Hopefully you’ve gotten this letter from Koushiro, or he somehow found a way to get it to you. He’s a good kid, even if he sometimes gets a little single minded. I think he learned that from me. Us. Anyway, I know you probably won’t believe that he’s from the future, I know I wouldn’t have, back before all of this, but it’s true. He was entrusted to me by Yukimi and Genta Igarashi, so I did all I could to ensure that he stayed alive. I knew, after a certain point, that it wouldn’t be me who could stop Diablo, no matter how much I wanted to, that it had to be Koushiro. He’s an Igarashi, after all, and I think if anyone could do it, it would be him.
“Thus, I hope that now, when you’re reading this, you’ll never see the future I’ve seen. But that’s not exactly why I’m writing this. What I have to say is simply that you should cherish what you have, the people who do in fact care about you. When everything went to hell, I realized I’d lost more than I thought. And while I wouldn’t trade Koushiro for the world, I do hope that you don’t have to raise a child on your own during an apocalypse. I hope that you still get to be a part of the life of the Koushiro of your new timeline.”
As if the Igarashi family would want him anywhere near their child, if they weren’t left with any other option. That was, of course, assuming they even had another child in this timeline.
“I think, even in the new timeline, he’d adore you. Us. Or however you feel like calling it.
“Now, moving on, while there’s a lot I could try to say… I think this is enough. So much has happened, but none of it will ever really happen to you. I hope. Which means I think it should be about time for my closing statements… wait there is one thing. Keep an eye on Makoto Igarashi, I saw what happened when he snapped.
“Other than that, I think my letter has come to a close.
“Your future self, George Karizaki.”
Clipped to the letter was a picture, somewhat faded but clearly well cared for. He recognized when it was taken, a week or so ago when he’d stopped by Happy Spa to pester Makoto and Tamaki. It was him, with the Igarashi family, Tamaki barely hiding his annoyance and physically holding Hana back from launching herself at George, though to anyone who didn’t already know it would look more like a hug.
His future self kept it for so long, clearly did his best to keep it in the best condition he could. George wasn’t really sure what that said.
Pulling a drawer at his desk open, he returned the letter and the picture back into the envelope and shoved it in the drawer.
---
“I can’t believe you got to meet our little brother!” Hana lamented loudly, something of a pout on her face.
Makoto did wish she’d have saved it for a later time, preferably when they didn’t have a group of Riders at Happy Spa that day. They’d invited Mr. Kamiyama and his friends over. Still, he could understand why Hana was at least a bit upset, since she was the youngest.
“You could have stuck around,” Tamaki answered, “though really I think I preferred you being with Sakura and far from any trouble.”
Hana rolled her eyes, but moved on, slipping through the room before stopping to stare at Mr. Yuri, who sat in one of the chairs in the lobby. “…Why do you have a cactus?”
“Because he does,” Tamaki responded again, “Don’t you have something better to be doing?”
“Don’t you have that comic to get around to reading?” Hana shot back.
A slight blush comes to Tamaki’s face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
With a sigh, Makoto comes out from the counter, broom and rag in hand, “If you two would prefer, you can both clean.”
In response, Tamaki sighed and took the broom. Hana recoiled a little and crossed her arms, huffing something about how she’d been asked to run to the store for Mama anyway and left. Well, that got the two to calm down pretty easily, Makoto found that it usually did.
Since Tamaki was out front, Makoto didn’t feel too bad about slipping into the house for a minute. He stops at the shrine for the missing Igarashi children, now with a new addition. There, nestled next to the picture of the three children, was the Emperor Dragonfly Vistamp. Though they’d barely known Koushiro, and all Koushiro had asked was that Makoto give the Vistamp to the version of himself in this new future, Makoto had thought it would be a good place to keep the Vistamp, in the meantime. Besides, Koushiro deserved to be remembered, even if the future he was from may be better left forgotten.
---
In a future not too far away, a little boy runs up to the shrine, now absent of any items save for the Emperor Dragonfly Vistamp. The boy has dark and messy hair, a pair of slightly too big glasses on his face. He stares up with curiosity.
“Big bro! Big bro George!” He called as footsteps approached. “Why is there a Vistamp there?”
Beside him, George arrived, answering, “It belonged to someone very brave, but he never knew his family,” He reached down, picking up the boy, who couldn’t help but giggle. “So we remember him here. After all, this is the family that will take anyone in, Koushiro.”