Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There are reasons why the siblings are dubbed as mysterious. Having different surnames yet still related makes the people in the underground wonder, and soon reaches the surface above the underground. Nobody knows what happened anyway, no, not really. Not when their family was broken from the start, not when that tragedy happened , not when Haruchiyo left home, not when Takeomi abandoned his only sister, not when Senju had to live by herself, not when grandma died, and not when father did not come back no more. 

Nobody but the closest friends they only had. 

But what they do not know is that all of these start with a mother. The thing is, they never had one. Of course, how could one of them be born with no mother? She was only a child bearer and not a parent, a prostitute to which their own father chose to impregnate when he paid lots of money to get her pregnant as it was a breach of the rules set by a brothel. Never once, but thrice in various years. She was his favourite. His reason? She was pretty. Hell, he might have wanted a family as he did not want to end up alone, only for his mother to take care of all of them in the end. 

He couldn’t handle it, after all, being a solo-parent to cater his children’s needs in every aspect; physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Except for financial needs, that is the sole reason why he was an absent father in the first place. However, it’s not like he doesn’t know what his kids looked like. His eldest, Takeomi–he names it–, was a copy of him. The middle child–first time he smiled– was a mix of him and that woman still he loves. And his only daughter, youngest of three? Beautiful. Looks like the mother heavily. As if blessed with her grace.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” His mother peered over, expecting an answer from her son after putting her grandsons to sleep, “Would that be enough to stay, son?” 

He cooed at the baby sleeping in his arms, so fragile and weak, his daughter, “She just looks like her, mom.” 

“Pray she won’t end up like her,” displeased with the response she got, she deeply sighed and sat down at her chair. “I expect you to parent your kids for once. Since Senju looks like that prostitute, there’s your reason to stay.” 

A few minutes of silence filled the air before he shifted into a different topic but still related, “Takeomi. Was he helping you, mom?” 

“Diligent as he is, it makes my heart ache that most of the time your son never got a chance to be a kid. Haruchiyo is a two-year old, he already knows how to walk and speak a few words. Your children are blessed, so stay. Even for a day or two.” 

Sighing, he cradles the baby as he nods. “Just a day, just a day. Then I’ll go back to work.” 

“Glad to hear that, son.” 

The next morning, he woke up to the sounds of crying. When he came to check the source of it– quietly leaving Senju sleeping soundly– Haruchiyo wept as his diaper needed a change. At first, he was about to call his eldest son to change it for him but he figured that Takeomi is helping their grandmother to make breakfast and set up the table for them. It was a nice scenario to think of, he shushes Haruchiyo lightly as he picks him up, glad that his son did his best to calm down despite being at the age of two. 

After he cleaned up Haruchiyo’s business, all glowy and happy, “My sweet son. You are now brand new!” 

Footsteps heard approaching them, “...Good morning dad. Breakfast is ready, grandma made you tea downstairs.” Takeomi’s arms reached to grab Haruchiyo and carry him instead, not wanting to strain his father inside the house when he’s barely home, “I’ll carry Haru.” 

“Thanks, son.” a smile crept up to Takeomi’s cheeks as his hair was ruffled, finally grew enough that his buzz cut was now thicker strands, “C’mon. Let’s not make grandma wait.” 

“What about Senju?” 

“She’s still sleeping.” 

“Oh…” Takeomi trailed, patting his baby brother’s back gently, whispering to him that he’ll get his baby food once they set foot in the kitchen, “She should have her formula milk ready then.” 

For a moment, Takeomi’s father looked at his son as if he had developed a new personality, not even saying that it’s bad. Or could it be that the Sano kid– the eldest, if he recalls, Makoto’s first kid–   influenced him that much to be a good kid? A difference is present between being an individual kid versus being a sibling. Doesn’t matter if Takeomi is putting himself into a show, as long as he performs like that Sano kid, all is good. Even the possibility of it was a limited time offer. But, what can he say? Grab what you can only grab. 

Anyway, this parenting stuff is somehow hard, he curses to himself. “After we eat, is that okay?”

“...I guess so. Grandma knows better.” 

“She does.” 

A rippling sound of a kettle whistling means they already set foot in the kitchen, putting the youngest in the room on a baby chair where the older ones greets each other simply in the morning. The provider and his first son went ahead on eating while the grandparent feeds Haruchiyo some mushy wheat cereal for babies, watching the boys eat. 

Simple meals are just as fulfilling as the extravagant ones, but Takeomi knew better. He had a gut feeling that his father may have had better meals from where he was working at, whatever that is, and seeing him now made him tad doubtful of himself. He ate quickly though, because he couldn’t ignore his grandma’s glances at him. She wasn’t being mean or rude, she knew that her son left his daughter sleeping and that Takeomi has more responsibility than his father could have. 

Haruchiyo broke Takeomi’s one-sided tense atmosphere as it filled with giggles, his bib stained with cream-coloured baby food. The eldest Akashi hurriedly put his plates to the sink and prepared Senju’s baby bottle before she cried due to hunger. When his father looked at him curiously and asked him what he was doing, the response he gave was the noise emitting from upstairs. 

His father sighs, getting closer to his mom and second son. “Takeomi changed. He wasn’t like that before. We were close.” 

“You made him a parent at a young age.” Grandma replies cooly, wiping the wet crumbs at her grandson’s face before feeding him with a last bite. Haruchiyo formed baby teeth yet somehow still prefers baby food, “Why wouldn’t he change? Looking after two siblings, one who is a newborn and the other being two. And he’s just twelve.”

“...Sorry.” 

“Sorry won’t fix anything that happened,” she utters and cleans up Haruchiyo.

He stands up and offers to wash the dishes instead, it’s the only thing that he can do for his family besides financially. “...They’re good kids, right?” 

“They are.” her hands gently patting the back of her burpring grandson, “And I sure hope they would not end up like our family. Must they be blessed better for it not to repeat.” 

As soon as the sun rises for a new day, grandma Akashi and Takeomi reckon that the sole provider of the home has left the house already. He must have felt that he was no longer welcome to the same house he lived throughout the course of his entire life, and he did not blame them, no. 

Takeomi wants to ponder if his father ever regrets his decisions, if only he changes his mind abruptly at the time he paid his mother– or that prostitute, not a good word to say– to do tangling in the sheets. Perhaps there is a reason, a tingle of hope twinkled in the young boy’s eyes. Even if it was fake.

He knew better and still, the bliss of being a twelve-year-old is to cling around the only parental figure he had in life and wish him to come back for him, for his siblings, and for his grandmother.  

“Coward. Liar.” Takeomi wept, gripping his pillows. He wants to be a kid. 

Too bad. He became just like him, cowardice and dishonesty. 

-

 Afternoons. Breezy and cloudy in the late afternoon when the Akashi household got a call from their doorstep, ringing across the room, loud enough to cut themselves from their past. Who could it be that rang their doorbell that distracted them from remembering their dead-beat father? The siblings are sure that they are not expecting any visitors, not when they finished small requests for Senju— and she wouldn’t be in the question as she did not have to knock at her own household. 

But the person was waiting outside, and to give it basic respect, Haruchiyo insisted on answering the door instead. What he did not expect was a visit coming from Mikey, that alone rushes himself on instinct to kneel down and bow if not for Takeomi to stop from continuing that action by his shoulders, a firm hold to remind him that he doesn’t have to do that anymore. 

Never occurred to Mikey that he gets to live to witness Haruchiyo doing that again, not okay with that gesture as he got a bit uncomfortable, and so does the pink-haired lad. 

“...Sorry, out of habit.” 

“It’s.. fine, really.” 

The two brothers gave him a prompt smile as a welcome. Both of them did not expect him to be here, and still, they are willing to assist him whatever he needs from them. However, Mikey who has the ability to distinguish the feelings of people since a teenager could not tell if these Akashi brothers are angry towards him or not since their expressions displays neutrality. There was no malice written on their faces nor wrath, neither of it was showing. Just waiting for him to speak. Well, it is no surprise if the siblings hate him, not considering blaming them either. It was normal to be mad at someone who hurts a family member, especially when it is a girl who got broken. 

After all, who would not get pissed off if someone hurts their precious little baby sister? Mikey would if Emma got hurt as well. He understands how it feels to be a brother, so putting himself in their shoes helped him to prepare for what will happen next. As a surprise and scathing the silence, Takeomi offered Mikey to come inside while collecting his thoughts. 

“Why don’t you go inside?” the eldest spoke, “It seems like you have a lot to tell us.” 

For the blond was to ponder and astound when they let him come inside their household, “Alright. Thanks..” 

Haruchiyo motioned to his childhood friend as he led the way to the living room, chunks of memories were secluded in. The house was still the same as ever, Mikey never got to visit often here back as a teen but the place looked like it never worn out. The wooden flooring does not creak at all and the wall painting seemed that it did not fade. 

The Akashi family is prosperous because of the siblings and not the… family itself. As far as Mikey recalls as accurately as possible, this all happened because of the benefits from having a… yakuza-type gang. Brahman and Kantou Manji Gang. Prosperity existed when Senju used her body to fight, threatening fighting skills to gain money in an underworld arena where Takeomi wants her to. Also, prosperity existed when Sanzu— Haruchiyo— got his deals pegged with ‘beginner’ drugs. When years passed, they stopped, and… well, they got themselves a black card to use. 

“The house looks the same,” and he means this dearly, “In a good way.” 

“Grandma took care of it until the end.” Haruchiyo smiles when he mentioned his dear grandparent. “You remember her, right?” 

“I remember her, just not got the chance to see her a lot.”

Only a nod was taken in response and Mikey did not have the words to spew out of his mouth to continue with this conversation they had a few seconds ago. With the ambiance of the room, it does feel like he still can remember fragments of his memories here, with his big bro Shinichiro coming around and the both of them visiting here as much as they can. His mind went into a memory lane, now that he notices it, the Akashi household… filled better memories than his own. Maybe. Mikey is not quite sure yet. 

When he glanced at Haruchiyo, the latter excused himself to go to the restroom, leaving him and the living room only. If he were to start describing the room, it is far different from his home (the Sano residence, not the… shared house with Senju.) The decorations, he recalls, are a combination of modern and traditional materialistic things. Something that reflects each characteristic of this family. Senju once told him that the household was supposed to be bombarded with modern stuff because they’re ‘stylish as hell’, but they wanted to keep some of the traditional ones because it somehow reminds them of their childhood when things were peaceful. 

Like that one portrait they had with their grandmother, a picture to remember her close by as she was the only one who patiently waited for the siblings to make up until her last breath. Or another frame of the siblings altogether, seemingly struggling to stay still. They had more pictures than intricate objects like a flower vase or a marble lamp surfaced on a small, round table. It is true that a picture brings you to the past, holding onto a precious memory as if it was the only thing that can pull you back. 

Haruchiyo came back from the restroom and the first thing he saw was how Mikey’s eyes sparked when he saw Senju’s photo at the corner, a high-school version of her. Wakasa and Benkei gave it to the family when she was living within their responsibility, gaining two older brothers that treated her family more than he and Takeomi could ever treat her. Perhaps the gods were so merciful that he gave them another chance to reconcile. 

With a small smile at the sight in front of him, he sat down. “You seem to… like the photos, too. I like them as well.” 

“You see them everyday?” 

“As much as I can.” 

Mikey turned to look at his brother-in-law, but at the top of a fireplace displayed an urn and he could not help but to ask, “...Is that your..?” 

“Oh, uh, that’s the ashes of our father.” Haruchiyo scratched his head, “Our grandmother had a proper burial instead.” 

Mikey finally sat down, admiring the interiors of the house once again. He realised that Takeomi wasn’t with them in the living room, “Where’s Takeomi?” 

“Ah,” chirped Haruchiyo, “Do you drink caffeine?” 

“I guess, I think so?” 

“He’s brewing something for us in the kitchen,” he explains, “Helped him to be sober-ish. He drinks from time to time, it’s getting better now.” 

Apparently, in order for the eldest Akashi to hinder himself from his addiction to alcohol, Senju suggests that he should create a new hobby where he makes beverages not related to alcohol substance. Told him that making himself tea or coffee, whatever variations there are, will help him lay off those drinks . When Takeomi behaved himself properly, Senju then permitted him to drink alcohol once or twice a month only so he would not lose himself in that path again. 

To their surprise, Takeomi could actually make himself a good barista if given a chance later on in life. But now, it is a standard practice and the latter himself admits that there are more types of drinks that he hasn't tried yet, trying to find a similar spark to actually enjoy it fully (but he does, honestly, yet he thinks that he might be fooling himself.) 

Moving on, while the elder brother is in the kitchen and cannot accompany the two of them in the living room, both Mikey and Haruchiyo had been… well, mildly awkward? They did speak to each other a few times earlier, talking about the pictures, the photos, frames… all the way where Takeomi was. They endured a little bit of silence, er, scratch that– it was Mikey who endured a little bit of silence, he did not notice how he held his breath all of a sudden.

The scarred-man asked his childhood friend, starting from square one. “How… are you these days?” 

He sensed that Haruchiyo attempted to try and not offend him, shrugging as a sign of telling him that he should not be tense because he should be the one being tensed. “I’m fine, I handle myself well, I suppose. How about you?”

“Likewise.” 

Exchanging courtesies was all they did to kill the time, Takeomi must be taking his time well creating his beverages. Mikey wanted to ask other things than the proper courtesies, he does not want to get kicked out in this household despite the chances are low, still he could not risk it. Letting it forward this conversation, the blond proceeds to ask about… hobbies instead. To think about it, no matter how blunt it may seem, it does feel like his connection and relationship to the Akashi siblings started to deteriorate like ashes. 

When he spoke, Haruchiyo interrupted him with a slight shock as Mikey’s eyebrows rose. “...Senju isn’t here.” 

“...Ah.” He saw right through him, “I see.” 

“I got that right?” asked the pink-haired man, looking up to him for any confirmation. 

“Yeah…” Mikey scratched his neck as his fingers fiddled, “I came here to ask about her.” 

That was true, but not the entire purpose why he came inside in the first place. It is not only about her that he came to ask and discuss, he also wanted to know more about the brothers. He has a goal to affirm something about the brothers because out of all the timelines he time-leapped, he never really saw or interacted with any of the two siblings at all, as if they did not exist in the first place.  

Ah, he really should remember the fact that these siblings are labelled as ‘mysterious’... 

Haruchiyo took a moment to contemplate as he asked Mikey, “Did you… love her? Senju, I mean?” 

When Mikey said yes and nodded to that statement, Haruchiyo asked again if he was really sure. 

“With all my heart.” 

“You love her?” 

 Mikey’s heart clenched, “I do.” 

“...Really?” 

The questions kept going on until Takeomi went back to the living room, carrying a small coffee tray as he placed them on the coffee table. He overheard everything somehow, and when he sat down on the couch and took a sip of his drink, he suddenly spoke to him. These words curate like an arrow shot through Mikey’s heart, a flashbang to stop every sense he has. All because Takeomi asked a sharp question, “Mikey. I do not think you understand what we meant.” 

“What..?” 

“Do you seriously love her? Or are you just being selfish?” 

It spiralled his thoughts. What does he mean… If he were to be honest with himself, replacing the word ‘selfish’ to ‘perseverance’ was more right. Manjiro Sano wholeheartedly dedicated his journey to Senju– a labour of love. Yes, it might be a bit selfish for him to want her to stay alive so he curved the instinct of nature to let go and move on, however he could not. The days without her was equivalent to days of torture, and if not for his friends and family… he sure as hell be joining Senju. 

Takeomi and Haruchiyo noted the sudden change of Mikey’s atmosphere as the eldest faked his cough to explain. Explaining it to him that if his brother-in-law really loved his sister, he would have been able to let her go. In all ways, despite hard and tough times, time may heal everything. Perhaps Takeomi would not understand if Mikey abruptly told him that the reason why Senju is alive in this particular timeline was because of him.

On the other hand, the siblings only wanted to make it up for their younger siblings, who is hurting as of the moment. Truth be told, everyone is hurting. Protection is all Senju needs, they suppose, just to let her feel joy and not agony in life. “Do you get that… Mikey? Both of you would be healing if you just let go.” 

“Did she?” implored the blond, “...Did she let go, too?” 

As much as Mikey wanted to stay calm as he should be, at first his mind and body reacted normally towards the imploding question but the realisation sets quickly. He felt guilty that it might be of him greedy as he clings to that selfishness as long as he could until he makes sure that Senju is okay. Until he felt okay.  

He wanted to make it clear. He will wash away all the doubts the brothers have of him, because that is all he could muster to do. His feelings for Senju were overwhelming yet it comforted him, the lingering of something that his entire being was finding, that he could declare it in front of them. As he had to be blind, it was only her to regain sight for him as his soul depended on her guidance. 

The stars and moon may have shone so brightly but nothing could ever beat the everlasting glow Senju brings everywhere she goes. All the horrors and demons whispering to his ears and pulling every inch of his sanity only to get beaten by a beam of light and grasping his hands to come back to Senju, his saviour. Her turquoise blending into the abyss, reminding him how it feels to be alive. Every book present in the world, she’d be the only one who he chooses to read, carefully looking at all the lines and stanzas as their story unfolds each page. 

Cold environments yet her warmth overpowers the freezing and the frost of his feelings captured by the ends of the tunnel, her presence that can ooze out springfield to etch out the echoes of shivering winds. And when she was finally his… 

Oh… she… she was the one who granted him another life. Another to experience a chance at what it felt like redemption for all sins he made. She was virtuous and he was sinful. 

The confession bewildered the siblings. They knew how Mikey loves, and the love he has for their sister was… something else. That none can be compared with, as if the poets gathered around to create a poem only for them, as if the sculptors banded together and made of what stone to justify and exemplify how love can be personified.

It was more than enough for Haruchiyo and Takeomi to be convinced, hearing the heartfelt message similar to their wedding vows to each other. And they were wrong to doubt him but he excelled well in their hidden test. “Alright.” was all they uttered. 

Mikey could only tilt his head in confusion, thinking what will happen next afterwards. 

-

-

He remembered the first time he moved to a new house, not too far and not too near from his old home. It was tranquil and refreshing, the smell of an empty house waiting for it to be decorated within their liking. Personalities clash and Mikey trusts Senju that she will be able to convey what the house would look like as they both dreamt. Nice and endearing, they felt. Spacious enough for them to explore and liberate everything they had in mind, it was a new start for the newlywed couple. Day after day, the house felt warm that Mikey and Senju could finally call it their home, and most importantly… The lovers are home. Within each other’s radar and touch only till then they can call themselves to be at home. 

So, when Mikey stepped right in this house that he used to share with Senju, he never thought that he would be nervous going in here again. He’s aware that before he leaped in this timeline, the Manjiro back then must have been crashing either at Naoto’s office or at the Sano family dojo. Oh, well, visiting the house again helps him waste some time to think about the discussions he had with the Akashi brothers, especially when those words are heavy enough to weigh out his shoulders. 

The house was still the same, every detail did not change at all. Completely identical from his original timeline that he could have sworn that he was taken back from time… as if the threaded fate was for him to go back already. What makes the house a little distinctive is the slight dustiness and he figures that he might have had his friends and family take turns on cleaning the house for him as his depressive state wasn’t letting him move. He appreciates them dearly, the objects inside the house never moved away from its original place. 

Sun was setting earlier and after he arrived inside, the sky looked like it would rain soon as the clouds were seemingly heavy and dark as it approached the area. Mikey was lucky and grateful that he came home as quickly as he could, otherwise he’d drench the floors wet because of the rain. He did not mind the rain but his wife hated getting wet by it, a curve appeared on his cheeks lightly as he tried to make himself home. 

It was the kitchen that he most often visited due to the nicest meals he had ever eaten with his family, including all the intimate moments he cherished together with Senju such as hugging her from behind while she waited for the water to boil. She’d giggle and would attempt to snag him off, meanwhile he would tighten his grip and kiss her wherever his lips landed on. While the blond was dozing off to a warm memory, he heard a small shuffle upstairs thanks to his sharp hearing, a faint one to be exact so who could that be? 

He could not think of anyone else, perhaps it might be a… robber? If a robber is trying to get his items, especially the ones that hold sentimental value to him, Mikey would not let that pass nor tolerate it even. And so, the plan was to carefully go upstairs in a light manner as much as possible since he isn’t too sure what will happen next if that person heard him or there is someone else inside the house. 

When he reached upstairs and was in front of his shared room with Senju, he pushed the door quietly to see who the person was inside his wide bedroom. Lo and behold, his heart softened when the person appeared to be Senju, who was packing something in a medium-sized box with labels on it. He didn’t stop in his tracks, no, what he did was to knock the door to alert her gently. 

She happened to have her messy bun tied up with visible tired eyes that carries bags which crowns around it, even with that kind of ‘socially unacceptable’ appearance, he felt himself fall harder for her. Seeing her again in the flesh should make him anxious, which he assumes from the start, but no, her presence calms him. 

His obsidian eyes caught those teal orbs, so close yet so far at the same time, like two galaxies summing to join into one. Mikey caught a glimpse of surprise from Senju’s eyes as she immediately relaxed herself. Silence only wrapped the room and the clinging of the items inside each box were the only ones that broke it, which made Mikey do the first move as his voice was slightly strained as he breathily greeted her, “Hi.” 

Not expecting a response back was normal, however, Senju gaped her mouth as she pressed her lips into a thin line before greeting him back solemnly, “Hi.” 

“Um..” It took a few seconds before Senju proceeds to continue her task, which makes Mikey scratch his own nape despite having no itch but it is a way for him to calm his nerves down from a nervous situation. “So… you’re finally moving away from our house,” he wanted to give her some space, afraid that he might disrupt Senju’s comfort and he didn’t want that, “That’s…” 

“...Yes, I am.” grimly hummed Senju, doing her best to not meet Mikey’s captivating jet-black gaze. The same eyes she got lured on only for her to curse herself that she did not change at all, could not even stop herself from taking secretive glances to his dark eyes. Still, with their current situation right now, things are taking place and well… she only chuckled lightly, “The room would be much more spacious now, you know?” 

“It’s still better if the room is full than empty at all.” 

“Of course,” she did not lose her focus on arranging her stuff. What he said churned her heart, mumbling to herself with a sad tone, “...If things weren’t like this, that is.” 

A moment or two passed by before Mikey offered to help Senju as he knelt down, assisting her whatever she instructed him to do. He insisted when she tried to refuse, saying that he does not have to, he felt that he should. All he could do right now was to cherish small moments like this before the dawn of tomorrow where he would lose Senju finally in his life. 

The woman’s heart flutters as Mikey helps her and to brush the feeling off, she rolls her eyes then teases him, “So… you finally help with chores?” 

“What do you mean?” he stretched the last words, childishly pouting at her, “I always help with chores. I pick whatever’s on the floor..” 

“Like you almost threw out your own hoodie?” 

“That’s an exception!” 

The teasing slowly died down as minutes went on, both are occupied with their tasks on hand. With all honesty? Both people felt awkward despite teasing each other earlier, it’s not something they are completely used to nor it is something they should get used to. Senju’s handiwork with the boxes are properly labelled which makes it easier for Mikey to put where things should be placed appropriately. This time, he wants to make sure that Senju will have a happier and easier life in this timeline. 

He took a quick glance from her from time to time though, hearing her suck in a sharp breath assuming that she might have brushed her fingertips on a slanted material. Few boxes are now prepared and labelled with names completely, placing it at a corner near to the doorstep so it would be easier to take it out. Time runs fast, faster than their hands combined– to pack Senju’s belongings inside the cartons. 

She planned to finish packing before sunset comes, and suppose if she were to do it alone, she’d take more than a sunset to complete her task. Too tired to begin with, the cherry-haired woman was thankful that she got to see Mikey, albeit their dreadful situation together, that provided support with her possessions. 

After a few hours, they finally concluded themselves with the boxes, much to their relief. It is getting late and she needs to go home– home to her brothers– plus carrying her most important belongings to her car. She does not plan to bring all these numerous cartons since the moving company she hired a few days ago are the ones who will carry the rest for her tomorrow or as soon as Mikey and Senju sign their divorce papers. With an intentional look as she reached for her pockets to find her car keys, she did not have the strength to view Mikey’s obsidian eyes because she knew she’ll get pulled in a matter of seconds. When she could not sense her keys, she could only think of two possibilities: she either lost it or accidentally packed it with her boxes. 

Labelled with names, true, but the problem is which of the cartons held the keys? With visible frustration, Mikey stepped near her as he awkwardly offered help. “...Do you need help finding them?” 

“Yes, please… Please do.” she gave up, sighing in exhaustion to ever tackle the problem anyway, and as much as she wants to go home and rest there, she can’t. The skies rattle with thunder, darkening as it echoes through the land. If she had to go downstairs with her boxes, the belongings inside might get wet. She herself dislikes getting wet either. Massaging her temples, she groaned. “Great. It’s going to rain.” 

She was prompted to close the windows yet she left a small space so the cold air would pass through the shared home. Senju took a deep breath, sitting on the carpeted floor. Meanwhile, Mikey halted hunting for his wife’s keys, taking notice of Senju’s mood. Not wanting to give her any discomfort, he decides to sit on the floor at the same side as her, far enough to value their own personal space. 

The room was awfully quiet, both adults separating from the same floor both are sitting at. This type of day was not expected at all, that getting stuck inside the room with your soon-to-be ex husband while raining heavily outside is not planned in Senju’s mind. She whispered loud enough that she immediately covered her mouth instantly, mumbling apologies towards the blond, “Why are you here, Mikey…?” 

It still hurts for the both of them, truth be told. However, what can they do when both individuals are not as compatible as before, the mental state not on the proper side.

There is no answer coming from the man in front of her, which pumps a beat or two, unsure what to feel from the silent response he gave her. Of course Mikey lives in this house, she thinks, we’re still married and share the same house. 

Instead, in return, Mikey replied with: “Have you been well, Senju?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Me too.” 

“...” 

“I don’t buy that bullshit,” admits Mikey, tilting his head to the side to face the woman, “Everything went shit.” 

Senju stared at him, “I agree. Right.” 

“Can you believe that I almost burned the kitchen downstairs?” 

“Oh, so that is why I saw a burned tray downstairs!” 

Both of them laughed at the tragedies and struggles they had experienced without each other, seemingly harsher than the times they had been together in the middle area where things went downhill. The conversations were brought up as was returned swiftly albeit the thunderstorm outside as the cold wind managed to insert itself to breeze the whole room, and luckily for them, they can still hear each other. 

They kept doing this until Senju’s eyes flickered with a pained expression, pausing their chats in the middle, “...Have.. have we really been like this, Manjiro?” 

His name. His real name was called instead of what everyone knows him by. There is a slight shift of his posture from sitting as his eyes lowered, not knowing what to say next. Speechless, he was. The question takes him aback and the guilt crept up to his nerves, unable to seem to find the right and exact words to tell her as she waited for a response that felt like ages. Averting his gaze, Senju told him to look at her eyes sincerely and tell her his answer. “Look at me, ‘Jiro. Please…?” 

“..I.. I don’t know. Have we?” 

He shot her a question instead of a declamation response. The answer made Senju lift her head up towards him, clearly not satisfied upon hearing him say that. She has mixed emotions as it scattered all around, a bewildered expression. She was about to say something to him then stopped herself from doing so, afraid that she might pour all her unsolicited feelings, and so she collected her thoughts then glanced at him again, getting absorbed into his jet-black eyes. 

She parted her lips, staggered. “I… I am so confused about you..” 

Mikey’s attention perked from the woman’s brusque exclamation, seeing her clenched fists tightly into a ball and a tormented display on her facial features. His gaze observed how her body language shifted, stress coming through as a bead of sweat trickled down from his chin. 

“You… you look like you do not know anything and all of a sudden, you act like–” Senju stands up abruptly. She scrutinised him, her chest tightens as she sat down on the floor again, inhaling deep breaths as much as she can, “You know what… Nevermind… it’s…” 

“No, no.” Mikey did not let that one pass by, carefully sliding his hands against hers not wanting to trouble her, holding them gently as he pressed it lightly. “Tell me.” 

She pores over the hands that are enveloped with hers, of course the reaction was not something that Mikey would expect her to do: comfortable. Senju flinched with the sudden touch, trying to untangle her fingers from his calloused hands, she mumbled “Let go… let go of my hand.” 

Her eyes glistened, the corners of her eyes crinkled as it started to water down. Mikey could only hold his grip with her hands, watching her fret around with words that came out of her mouth that sounded like whispered weeping, “Why are you like this? Why are you doing this to us– why-” 

“Senju..” 

“Let go, Manjiro. Please. ” laments the pink-haired woman, “...Why do you keep pretending that you do not know anything?” 

She finally pushes him off from his chest, jabbed a finger on it as well, “You..! Why do you act so kind and warm now… then, then.. Go cold and distant?” The last words are a strained, down-hearted voice. Senju does not get him at all, so lost and confused like a lamb that got separated from its mother, a wail and cry to call. Mikey’s adam's apple bobbed up and down, gulping as he felt his mouth going dry as he witnessed Senju’s real feelings. 

It was nerve-wracking, he finally understands. Moreover, he captures everything that his other self did in this timeline before he arrived here– all the negative impact he and Senju made was all brought to fruition. Senju continued on her rambles, which was something that Mikey had to hear for some reason. 

What made it click for Mikey to freeze led to the culprit in front of her. A word that stopped the world from spinning was when Senju conceded, “How did this even happen in the first place… as if a curse was…” 

“Did I miss, Manjiro?” a question, genuinely. “Did I lack something, Manjiro?” 

Speechless. Mikey was speechless. Somehow, the question reminds him of how self-hatred was earned and that the conclusion for everything that ended miserably was to initially blame herself for what happened to them. Never to him, always her. A sinner, liar , cursed must she be one to internally describe herself at the moment. 

If only the emotions weren’t strong, perhaps she could’ve… stopped. She might have asserted things to a conclusion, left the house after packing despite the rude thunderstorm outside, and… lived on. She can’t and much more she won’t. Mikey knows how she feels, hits too much like home that swam through his veins, and when Senju did not get any response from her husband, that is all she needs as an answer. However, for Mikey… There is no way that he thinks that Senju lacks. Never. “So, I lack…” 

“Don’t say that ever again,” he moved to cup her cheeks, sensing drops of tears as it stained her face. Mikey means it, “...I think that I lacked a lot.” 

She could only listen to him, letting him touch her cheeks as she felt herself calming down for a little. Meanwhile, Mikey was careful not giving her any discomfort– and he knows her too well. Reading her body language made it so much easier for him, an impact to let himself freely express his feelings with actions that might change everything. 

Senju observed him, eyes glistening as her hands tinted with his, caressing it lightly as if it was a feather gracing it. She pressed her lips to a thin line, “...I missed you. Where have you been?” 

“I know,” Mikey lifted her hand and rubbed it softly, “I’m sorry.” 

A pull for a hug, hands reached for it as Senju murmured to his ear, asking where he had been once again. Or as to why he differs every time, which made her own heart clench, still she deserved to hear an explanation coming from him. From warm to cold, so close and yet so far, acting like a stranger then acting like a husband at the same time. Sano Manjiro thinks of a response carefully, the locks of his hair being untangled by the same hands he used to rub earlier. 

The hug made it swift for him to avoid thinking too much, only giving him time to come up with something. He does not want to lie to her, his grip tightening a bit; Mikey remembers what he heard from Senju’s brothers. Because, the thing is, Senju is cursed from the start. 

Funny. He used to think that he was a cursed human being and that no one should be able to go near him, afraid that he might hurt them and turn into a monster– those impulses reigning once again. He never thought that someone was also cursed, yet the contrast was so strong this time that he could not distinguish the real definition of being cursed, that a person like Senju beams like the sun, never letting the curse conquer her life as she made the road on her own to walk by. 

How she was able to do it will always fascinate Mikey. He broke the hug slightly and let his eyes get absorbed into hers. 

(“Senju is a cursed baby,” Takeomi started off. He sighed deeply, “Because of our mother.” 

“Mother?” Mikey asked.  

Haruchiyo nods, “Our mother was a prostitute, as we mentioned. There are a lot of things that we don’t know about her since our father was reluctant enough that he wouldn’t let us see her. He said that we’re too young to understand, which is… hard to counter-attack, understandable even.”

“It was not too long when we decided to come and see our mother a few months ago.” continued by the eldest, “Though we never said that we were her children, seeing as though she had her own. Still…” he handed the blond a picture, “Even if we deny, her features strongly resemble both Haruchiyo and Senju.” 

“It was a good thing she agreed to answer every question coming from us since we are only strangers in her eyes.” Haruchiyo added, “...A surprise, too, when she suddenly told us that she has other children other than the ones she has. Her memory is strong for someone who looked like it was easy to forget things and pretend that it didn’t happen– she remembered the names of her first children, even joked if we– me, Takeomi, and Senju– were her children.” 

“After she realised that we are those children,” said Takeomi, “Her mood shifted. So, we had to take it straight. I asked first if she ever regretted meeting our dad, she told us that she didn’t as long as she received money in the end and never took responsibility for whatever comes next after giving birth.” 

Mikey, stunned, thought that the story behind these siblings are tragic as well. What comes next out of Haruchiyo’s mouth makes his eyes pop open, “Then she told us that giving birth to Senju was the most vivid memory she remembers.” 

“...Why?” 

“Senju got a hold of that woman’s curse.” 

“What?” 

“She admits that a shaman cursed her due to her behaviour before, too vigorous of a personality– it had nothing to do with her being a prostitute.” Takeomi pointed out a quick sip from his drink as his right leg bounces up and down. “That the shaman once told her that if she ever gave birth to a first daughter, till then the curse would be lifted and be permanent to that child. Sometimes, I wonder if blaming her for everything bad happened would just alleviate problems for the time being. Hearing that made me hate her instead of trying to put myself into her shoes.” 

Haruchiyo testifies that the curse lasts for a thousand entries. That may be the reason why Senju’s name means ‘Thousand Curses’ as it means she will live a doomed life with curses for a thousand times before she could actually live a normal life.) 

“...I lack, there are a lot of things that I want to catch up with you, to make it up to you.” Mikey choked, holding out the sudden strain in his voice. Seeing her up close, now that he knows everything, made his heart squeeze; painful yet endearing. “So many things to tell you… I missed you so much.” 

Listening to him lets Senju be more vulnerable around him, agreeing that she wants to make it up to him as well, she is not perfect but she is willing to try again. Her eyebrows curved, a worried expression plastered to her face, “Our signing of divorce papers will be tomorrow, Manjiro…” Part of her trusts this ‘version’ of her husband, and with quick wit, her mouth turned wide open as she called him out for being a different ‘Manjiro’. 

The mentioned blond froze in place, his other hand caressing the woman’s cheek fell down, “..Huh?” 

“You… you’re a different Manjiro, aren’t you?” 

Slowly, Mikey bobbed his head yes as he cut his gaze with her only to feel a small pull, her lips on his. Her hands cupping his cheeks, feeling the redness creeping to his ears and neck, he analysed what was happening before he gave in, joining the lapse of sweet kisses. She cradled him, having her arms around his shoulders as she pulled from the kiss. Their forehead resting against each other, breaths overlapping as their eyes are locked onto each other. 

“What-” 

“I’ve been waiting for so long,” she says, “For you to come back.” 

Somehow, he felt the weight on his shoulders lifted. He apologised to her quietly that he took too long, that he had to make her wait this long for them to tackle the situation. She mumbled that it was fine, assuring him that the both of them didn’t know. Mikey’s voice quivered, a sudden feeling surged, as he asked her. “You knew everything?” 

“I knew.” Senju hushes, her nose tickling with his, “Someone told me.” 

He didn’t bother asking who that someone was, the feelings were overwhelming in a way where the two of them shared the mutual emotion, and could not think of anything else anymore. Cherishing the moment, Mikey finds home to her lips and pulls Senju closer to him, words disappearing from the tip of his tongue as all he wanted was to be with his one and only. 

The thunderstorm rumbled on as they occupied themselves with Mikey carrying Senju to their bed, bringing comfort to their emotions that they could not control anymore. When he saw Senju’s face up close once again, tears dripped down on his face as he felt a hand wiping them away, finally telling that he loves her. 

(Upon hearing those words coming out from the brothers, there was more information that surprised him. Absorbing those meant changing what he experienced fully. He wonders if Naoto knew these things or if Takemichi did. Senju’s brothers aren’t close with them either, not saying as friends-type of close, it was more like an acquaintance level.

What Hanma pointed out was true, that he and Naoto haven’t thought of consulting her siblings. Just because they are family does not mean they should be not included in the suspect list. No wonder that the reaper knows endless knowledge about this kind of matter. The household shared the same ambiance as before, however, some parts of it felt off. 

Takeomi and Haruchiyo shared a look before facing Mikey as they stood, “Come with us. We… got something to show and tell you.” 

He followed them to a room– specifically, it was Senju’s room. Her childhood room, one that held lots of memories. After all these years, it felt like Mikey was stepping into a room that he shouldn’t be allowed in, the first time seeing what her room looked like before. Her brother-in-law offered to take a seat on her small bed as Takeomi pulled something from the drawer. 

While waiting for him, Haruchiyo mentioned something to Mikey. “We know you want to ask something else.” 

“...Yeah, I actually do.”

“Say it.” Takeomi chimes, dusting off a small storage box that he is highly familiar with. “Because I don’t think you’d be able to react well when you find out that we know almost everything.” 

Mikey frowned, “I’d like to hear differently, unfortunately.” 

“Did that Tachibana officer tell you to come see us?” 

“Yes.” nods Mikey, eyeing the box that Takeomi was holding, “Hanma is the one that advised us, though… ironically.” 

“Oh,” a tone of bitterness echoed in Haruchiyo’s voice, “Him.” 

“Ah, right, well, here you go.” Takeomi steps in front of Mikey as he hands him the box he took from the drawer, “...I assume that you remember what she wrote in that letter.” 

A normal reaction would be getting the same shock as he did as before, a wave of curiosity and confusion surges through as Mikey tilted his head to the left, his grip to the storage box a tad tighter, “...How did you–” 

“Let’s just say our family has been too involved with this supernatural stuff,” chimes Haruchiyo as he slides in two keys for Mikey, “Even if us siblings don’t want to integrate with it… It can’t be helped. I think this time it benefits; a little birdie told us everything.” 

Seeing the complete requirements in the blond’s hands, if he wants to, he could finally open the storage box that Senju mentioned in that letter back in the original timeline. He feels as if it is not the right time yet, a strange force that tells him to wait for a little longer before revealing what Senju was keeping inside the locked box that needed three keys. 

“We didn’t open it, by the way.” added the eldest Akashi, “Senju wants you to do that instead. If you’re ready, as she wrote.” he hummed, sitting on a rolling chair. “What are you going to do now?” 

“Keep these for a while…” Mikey mumbled, pertaining to the objects he was given by the brothers. “I don’t think I can accept this for now. There are things that I need to accomplish… Until then, please take care of it.” 

The strawberry-haired lad promptly took the storage box from Mikey’s hands, putting it beside him. He took a deep breath, aware of what comes next, “I know it’s strange to say this but I hope you complete whatever task you engraved on your mind.” 

All Mikey could do was to nod before he thanked them by letting him come inside their house once again then leaving the house as he hurried to his shared house with their little sister. When their Sano brother-in-law left, Takeomi lit a cigarette and Haruchiyo didn’t utter a single thing about it. The sun is going to set in a few hours, declaring the day coming to its temporal slumber as the moon abides by the sky for the same duration. Standing by the doorstep, Haruchiyo stared at the storage box, “I wonder if he realised something during his stay here.” 

“He will be fine,” Takeomi interrupts his little brother’s thoughts. “...Let him take his time today. Go inside and rest, we won’t get some tomorrow anyway.”)

Around two in the morning, Mikey found moments of peace when he watched Senju sleep beside him, blankets that curved and wrapped around their bodies. The thunderstorm stopped an hour and a half ago, leaving the sound of crickets chirping outside their window. It was accompanied by a chorus of frogs that found joy with wet puddles despite being cold and dark, the city lights calmed down as the stars that twinkle in the sky reappeared. 

Her soft snores remind him that things might be okay in the end. Mikey grants himself the view of his wife’s face, looking all calm contrasting the emotions that bursted through moments before. As if it pulled him further, continuing to watch her sleep and he will do this until morning, never getting bored. He missed this kind of feeling– all warm and fuzzy. But, the woman in the topic had her skin bore sensitivity as it felt the breaths of the man that glazed over. It was the reason why she fluttered her eyes open, attracted to his eyes once again. 

“You’re not sleeping?” she whispers, cuddling herself to him more as she feels warm again by the man’s body temperature. They were close yet the distance between them is just right as she places her hands delicately to the structure of Mikey’s face with her frilly eyes doing all the talking instead, admiring his beauty as she pressed weight to his jawline; the man next to her was beautiful. 

Hands enveloped her body suddenly, pulling Senju to an embrace as Mikey nested his face at the crook of her neck. He didn’t cry or anything despite being emotional yet the sound of his question poured more feelings than what he intended to do, like a plea. “...Senju?”

“...Yes?”

“Do I still have to continue?” muttered the blond, an erratic breathing as he asked, “Can’t we stay like this forever?” 

Senju is aware. Aware that her lover is tired from all what was happening, it was the reason why her heart strings pulled in agony. She feels pain for him, she knew what he was talking about in the first place so she hugged him back tightly in response, Mikey’s current position directly at her beating heart. Fast, rapid, thumping, hurting. 

A soft cry present yet Senju held herself from being heard even though she knew that Mikey could hear her with how small their distance are from each other, eyes betraying her as it stings, a steady stream of tears flowing down her face. “We can’t,” she gulped down her audible cry, “...We can’t.” It was all she said for the night. 

When morning came, the decision was made between them; what comes next must be left alone, the divorce papers had to be signed no matter what. Mikey squeezed her hands before letting her go. The next thing that happened was her death after he let go, witnessing it once again as he turned around, going to Naoto’s office for the last time. 

The papers weren’t signed after all. 

-

An electric buzz pinched Mikey back to reality, assumingly time-leaped to his last and final timeline. He checked his surroundings first, familiarising it then realised that he was inside the Sano family household. His childhood home, stepping inside with the tatami mats. The texture of what he was holding framed a metal tray, seemingly carrying some type of food that was still hot, fresh out of the oven.

The atmosphere felt like he was brought back to his original timeline, instead of a murky and depressing aura, it was replaced with lighter feelings– the warmest, as if all negative energy got sucked into Pandora's box then a rainbow erupted in place. Mikey notices how the people inside the house consists only of his closest friends and family members, a relief since he prefers it that way. 

As he stepped into the kitchen after placing the tray from the table across the living room, he could see some of his friends lounging there. Mitsuya looks like he is assisting with the cooking, Draken and Keisuke help with the setting of the table, and Kazutora helps with washing the plates. Mikey was unnoticed though, he didn’t mind, but the scene sets a curve on his lips as he roams around the place more. 

At the left side, where the front porch sits, he can see Izana entertaining the others with Chifuyu and Kokonoi. He can guess that Inupi must have been checking over the place if one of the guys gets rowdy, although that will unlikely happen. Come to think of it, what is this special event that everyone gathers around? Right. If his friends are here, Naoto and Takemichi should be here as well. He hears Emma at the back, speaking on a telephone. 

“Is that you, Mikey?” 

That voice…

“Takemichi?” 

Mikey turns around, a small shock present from his voice. He tilted his head enough that he saw Naoto at his back, “Naoto, too.” 

“Welcome back..!” He could not help but to hug the two. When he pulled back, Takemichi held a strong grin and Naoto had his lips softly smiling, welcoming him from his latest timeline. 

From an instinct, Naoto offers to go somewhere with fewer people around the house as he asks about the recent activity that Mikey experienced. When they found a space, the brunet policeman began to ask, lightly as he did not want to startle the man in front of him. “So… how did it go?” 

Seeing that Mikey hesitates to respond, Takemichi fills in the answer as his memories get rewritten and retrieved what happened, “He’s fine, Naoto. I think he needs to process things first.” 

Understanding, Naoto nods and apologises for the sudden question. 

“No worries,” Mikey said. “Anyway… I want to try something. Takemichi, can you shake hands with me?” 

“Sure.” 

They shake their hands for a little while, a lot of times actually. There was no electric feeling elapsed on their palms, not at all, and after trying handshaking with Takemichi, Mikey concludes that he is now unable to leap through time. “...No changes happening, huh.” 

“You’re still here.” Takemichi retreats his hand. 

“The goal must have been achieved then,” Naoto declares, “Probably… Or either you both have the same thoughts. More like satisfied with the… results.” 

A few seconds passed before Mikey asked a different question, having no reply to what Naoto had said earlier. “What’s the occasion here?” 

The ex-time leaper and the police officer shared looks as they chorused, “It’s Senju’s death anniversary.” 

-

Mikey thinks that happiness derives from him, that it should stem from him rather than trying to find the roots from other people. His happiness is like a codependent plant, cannot achieve without those people that he heavily loves and cherishes. When he reappeared from the lounging area where Emma and the others are located, Mikey received a big hug coming from his siblings. 

“You worked hard, Mikey.” said softly the sandy blonde, “Welcome back.” 

“I’m not going anywhere anymore,” he hugged her back, “I’m back, Emma.” 

Everyone in the room surrounds him as they cheer him on, grabbing the light atmosphere as it cascades through everyone. The event went on for the loving memory of Senju— it seems that Mikey leaped a year afterwards, as the occasion being the first death anniversary. At the corner of the room, he caught a glimpse of the Akashi brothers as he approached them warmly. 

Days later after the occasion, Manjiro Sano had the opportunity to properly grieve and mourn for the loss of his beloved wife– a widower. The ring on his left ring finger never was removed, and it was something that all his close connections understand but now different as it is unlike the first time grieving coming from the original timeline. When Draken told him to stop working for a while and focus on healing, Mikey developed other hobbies that reminded him of Senju, seeing as though what she would do if she were alive. He mourned just like that, he promised that he would not develop self-destructing habits. Mikey had to stay alive for other people, too, not wanting to see his family crying or his friends blaming themselves. 

As days passed by, Mikey had the routine of visiting Shinichiro and Senju’s graves twice a week. It was his way to communicate with them by sitting on their graves— Senju’s burial pit was placed by the Sano family grave since she was part of them. So, it did not tire Mikey at all to shift from one grave to another. He placed two bouquets of flowers and lit their scented candles, sitting down as he popped a can of root beer. 

“Emma and Ken-chin finally had their firstborn,” he grinned. “Izana and I had to fight for the uncle title even though we’re both uncles in honour of their son. There’s this time that Emma threatened me by throwing a frying pan if I get too loud with the guys.” 

Mikey continued as his hair flowed with the wind, “I wonder how are you guys? Have you been talking to each other? I hope that you guys don’t share too many embarrassing moments with me, I will go there myself!” he joked, laughter dying down as his phone beeped with a small alarm. 

He dusted off their nameplates before standing up, staring at his deceased loved ones. “I am living well now. Do not worry about me anymore because I know that someday… I’ll meet you guys again. Continue watching us from above, okay?” Grinning, he left the scene as he fished his phone, dialling a phone number. “Hey, Haru? I think… I think I’m ready. Will you give it to me?” 

It was in front of him, a small object that was given to him by someone he loves dearly. Mikey sat on his bed, taking the keys with him so the box would open finally, urging to see what was in store for him since preparing himself to open it willingly after mourning properly. Twisting the lock, his hands carefully lifted the attached lid as it creaked, his eyes filled with a slight surprise. 

He did not expect this at all…