Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Do not use your alice.”

There was no electricity, but there had been an announcement, something about faulty wiring or an accident that ended with a few fallen posts. But it didn’t matter. The electricty would be back up in a few hours anyway.

So, obviously, the electric stove wouldn't work but maybe they could get the gas stove to work again?

Or… They had matches in that one drawer next to the dishwasher, and if he runs to the store and buys a sack of charcoal or firewood, he could open up the dusty fireplace and start something

“Do not even consider it.”

Using his alice hadn’t been the first of Natsume’s plans at least, but even before he could trifle with the logistics, Mikan had shut him down. To be honest, it came out of nowhere, and if Natsume had been thinking about his Alice, maybe it had been as a Plan C or a Plan D.

Either way, it hadn’t been high enough on his priority list that he had had the time to entertain it.

“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Natsume said.

Mikan turned to him, her expression uncharacteristically all business. “Just covering my bases, in case you were thinking about it.”

That was far from the Mikan he had grown used to through the years, but she had every reason to be paranoid. After all, the Obon celebrations at his parents' place, and the last week boasting record temperatures in the Kanto region, had ended with Natsume collapsing on the way home from the festivities. The doctors had called it a heatstroke of all things. Upon Ruka’s insistence, he went back to Tokyo for another check up that ended in another two weeks within the four white and sterilized walls of the hospital.

That was deserved.

He shouldn’t have used his Alice to help light up anything, even if arguably all he had set up was a mere spark.

It was a lesson learned painfully and awkwardly, and Natsume would prefer to bury it in the closet of his mind, together with all the repressed memories of a very shitty childhood.

But Mikan wasn’t going to forget it.

Every now and then, she brought it up, and she was well within her rights too. She was Natsume’s constant companion during doctor’s visits. She memorized his meds to a T, and had mastered such a trivial yet helpful skill of lining them up in the pill boxes, so Natsume wouldn’t have to think twice before emptying a compartment and downing a handful of pills.

It wasn’t easy, and Natsume couldn’t help but notice those late nights or early mornings catching up with everything else, but Mikan had downplayed them all to minor inconveniences, possibly even nothing at all. She justified everything with the same phrase, that Natsume found, he liked to hold close to him like a memento.

I wanna live a long life with you.

The playfulness, the life loving part of Mikan had evolved as they grew older. In many ways, she was still that same Mikan he had fallen in love with. She still navigated life like she saw colors around her that would only ever be foreign to Natsume.

But compared to the Mikan he grew up with, the Mikan he knew then and there, the one who had graduated from Tokyo University and opened her own coffee shop, seemed a lot more deliberate with her thoughts and actions, and Natsume couldn’t help but think… Maybe it had been his carelessness with his own body that had forced her to step up, if only to make up for what he was lacking.

“Sorry,” Natsume said. “Sorry for everything.”

Mikan shook her head almost immediately, like she had read his mind and picked out precisely where Natsume’s grievances were. “I told you before. I choose to do all of this, because I wanna live a long life with you.”

Silence blanketed the room, and it was a familiar visitor that brought no discomfort. Natsume was a man of few words, and although Mikan liked to fill the room every now and then with her own ideas and stories, she had learned to appreciate the beauty of silence as well.

She turned towards the entrance of their cafe and fitted the closed sign on the door. “If there’s no electricity, we’re gonna have to close the cafe for a bit. Which means we have some time at least to clean up. We haven’t had time to clean up since we opened the shop.”

They had opened shop for the first time more than two weeks ago. In fact, they had timed their opening with the town festival, particularly when foot traffic was highest. Until the week after, the cafe had been swamped with customers.

Only in the peace and quiet did Natsume notice the aches and pains of working twelve hour days since opening. He was exhausted. He slumped back on the chair. “Yeah, it has been a while since it was just the two of us.”

Mikan was moving towards the chair, pulling it just far enough from the table to fit her slim figure through, before she abruptly snapped her fingers. “Ah, I have something I wanna give you,” she said. “Before I forget…” She dashed to their bedroom, and the sound of drawers opening and closing echoed across their small private space. She was back in a few seconds and she dropped a paper bag table. “We didn’t have time since we got back from Tokyo… but I wanted to give this to you when everything has settled down… when we could talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

Her eyes shifted pointedly at the paper bag, then she looked up expectantly at Natsume. And if that hadn’t been a hint enough, Mikan had raised her hand towards her chest, fingering the stone she wore around her neck, the one Natsume had given two years ago.

Mikan and her alice stone necklace. Those two had been inseparable since it all started.

“You didn’t want a fancy wedding or traditional wedding rings or engagement rings, and I didn’t want it either… so when you gave this necklace… I couldn’t help but think I wanted to give something too… something a little more permanent than the alice stones we exchanged as kids.”

“You went to that jewelry shop, the one in Kanda?” Natsume said.

“Shinoda-san’s?”

Natsume’s face was blank. Shit, he never did ask her name. The second embarrassment was almost palpable, that Natsume didn’t even notice himself until his own hand flew to his forehead, smacking it harder than necessary.

“The old lady right? The one who can make Alice stones?”

“There were only so many old ladies who could make Alice stones in Kanda. Natsume nodded in defeat. “That was her name…”

“The one with the alice that makes stones… the one with the information alice. She knows the nature of your Alice just by looking, and she can make these stones from them?” She removed her own necklace and held it out to the light. “I should have known this was from her too.”

“How did you find her?”

“When you were hospitalized after you collapsed, Ruka and I had some time to just take a walk around there. We were looking for a get well present.”

“When was that?” Natsume asked. Their time in Tokyo was limitless to the two week hospital stay, and Natsume could have sworn Ruka and Mikan had remained close the whole time.

Mikan hummed. “Remember when we came back to your hospital room with a big bag of tangerines…”

“Ah.” Natsume recalled it almost immediately. In the midst of those boring repetitive days that made up his mind numbing hospital stay, even the tangerines were memorable. Ruka had found a good deal in some fruit stand, apparently. At the end of the day, no one could finish that many, and three fourths of it had been donated to the nurse’s station.

Still, Natsume couldn’t at all believe that they had turned right on the same street, stopped in front of that same store and struck a conversation with the same old woman.

All alices think alike, maybe? Natsume surmised. “How is she?”

“She told me a lot about her own life, and it got me thinking about us… and with Ruka, that probably explains the paranoia.” Mikan let out a light chuckle, still Natsume noted the glumness in her expression.

Ruka had been particularly paranoid lately, and when Natsume had been released from the hospital, Ruka had taken the initiative of creating a system for the medicine box, to talk to the doctors on Alice biology developments.

And he had been one, if not the most vocal, after what had been dubbed the “lantern incident.”

“She talked a lot… about my life-shortening alice,” Natsume said. “At least when I met her.”

“She told me a lot about the life shortening alices too, and she also told me about how nullification has always been one of the best cures. It nullifies alices… the power of the alice and its effects on its user.” She pushed the paper bag closer towards him. “Are you gonna open it?”

“Ah… yeah I should,” he said. There was no way he was admitting to her that his mind wandered much farther than the paper bag, he had almost forgotten it in those few minutes. He took it carefully on one hand and unwrapped it slowly.

“She actually has a lot of experience researching life-shortening alices, and she told me a lot about them, about how life-shortening alice shapes involve large-scale creation and destruction, how they take the energy from your life force and are able to effect that change over a large area, or so, that was how she explained it…” Mikan leaned back on the chair. “And somehow, when I thought about it… I kinda got it… so alices which focus on manipulation… my nullification alice, pheromone alices, Hotaru’s ’s invention alice, Yuu’s illusion Alice or even Hotaru’s brother’s the healing and pain alice— they can never have a life shortening alice shape.”

Natsum nodded, and deep in thought, he closed his eyes. He would have liked to make some smart ass comment about how his mother’s own memory manipulation alice was technically “manipulation” not creation. He was completely aware though, at the back of his mind, that his mother had the talent of making the memories herself, and with them, manipulating her enemies to bend to her will.

The life shortening alice shape was powerful, so powerful. And even as a child, he had figured it out for himself, when he found a snap of his finger was enough to burn through a balloon that had flown three hundred feet up in the air, to burn through warehouses even under a blanket of moisture characteristic of the port.

Still, it was rare, and there were things about their conversation that didn’t settle so naturally for Natsume. “Makes you wonder why she’d even want to study something so uncommon…”

“If I had had half the brain she has, maybe I would have studied it too… if only to keep you alive. She didn’t have a life shortening alice, but she still found the inspiration to do it all. And apparently, she did it all for love. ” She paused, and held one hand over her necklace once again, feeling for the scars of the stone, and it hadn’t been a strange sight either. Mikan liked to touch the stone when she was feeling tense or uncomfortable. “He had a life-shortening alice too. He had super strength, super speed, and he was one of the academy's first operatives.”

“It didn’t end well,” Natsume said. Of course, it didn’t end well. Her lover was most likely dead already, if Shinoda-san was almost eighty.

“Did you know, Shinoda-san was studying to be a doctor? She wanted to study life shortening alices, to at least find the nature behind the diminishing lifespan. Mikan said. “When they graduated, he could have stopped using it, but he refused to stop working for the academy…”

“Or maybe he was forced into it.”

“She worked tirelessly to save him, but research just takes too much time. He eventually burned out. He died and Shinoda-san was the last one who had tried to revive him, and she used his death to advance her own work on it… but when she found out why he had been working for the academy, she disappeared… and joined the resistance, and before it even became Z, she left and went into hiding.”

“Wait why—”

“She found out, it had all been because the academy was after her too, and he had done missions, just to protect her.” Mikan flashed Natsume a wounded look, before looking away. “She would know someone’s Alice just by looking, she could make out the shape, or the power, just by touching and the academy was after an operative just like that.”

“Sounds familiar, right?”

Natsume shook his head. Of course it sounded familiar, but it didn’t mean he had to prod that part of the conversation. Having fully unwrapped it, he held the stone a bright orange, clusters of brown, subtle under artificial light but when he held it under the summer sun streaming from the window it glowed, brown.

Mikan hummed. “Now that I think about it… she could have had a stealing Alice, just like me… just like mom… But you know, when she took my Alice, when she took Ruka’s… she didn’t steal it. Or at least, I didn’t feel like I lost anything.”

Somehow, Shinoda-san had found a way to steal the alice, but at the same time, not steal it. It could have taken some level of advanced alice biology, or even a nuanced understanding of the extent of her own abilities, to figure it all out. Of course, if she was a seasoned doctor, she would know.

I give alice's shape.

And every stone will tell a story, if you let it.

Bright orange. Clusters of brown. Hints of purple or hints of blue.

And he saw red, or maybe the sun was shining a little too brightly, or maybe it had been a trick of light.

Why could he have sworn he’d seen all those shades before. “It’s Ruka’s stone color, and it’s your nullification alice… then the stealing alice… the insertion alice… and it’s my alice… and Imai’s alice?”

“Back then… I didn’t remember you… but you inserted a stone in me… right?” Mikan mustered a soft grin. “And this is all of it, our memories, our attempts to save one another… all etched permanently in our alice stones. You know, back when I thought you died… I inserted all the powers I had in you. I made the decision to use everything I had in me, just to keep you alive. I thought I lost them… but for some reason, I had just enough to make a stone, just enough to show hints that that alice had existed in me long before, if only to keep you alive.”

“Thank you,” Natsume said. There wasn’t any tone to it. To have received a similar stone, would forever be one of the happiest moments, but in the silence, it had brought back memories of another time, Shinoda’s own story had brought out its own raw memories.

And really, it made Natsume look back. How had he survived? And what had happened to Mikan’s stealing and inserting alice?

He had been stabbed. He had woken up in the hospital alone, it brought back memories of searching for Mikan, bringing her back, things he would prefer not to think about.

Still, the stone told his story as comprehensively as it told Mikan’s. His life had been saved multiple times before, by Imai, Ruka and Mikan Mikan had saved his life, and it had left its own scars on her. Mikan barely even had an Alice to work with anymore, and it was all to save his life.

Thank you. That had been his first instinct, but how many times had he already thrown a ‘thank you’ or an ‘I’m sorry’ at her direction. “I’ll be here. We won’t have to separate again…” In the near future at least. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“We’re already married,” Mikan reminded. They had tied the knot in a civil wedding only a year before. “So think of this as just a simple exchange of wedding rings, except it’s between alices.”

Natsume smiled. The mood had lightened at least over the casual banter, and maybe he should have enjoyed the peace while it was there, before the clip clop of hooves from the distance got louder and louder… and before it was right at their front door.

But everything happened just a little too fast.

There were footsteps by the entrance.

Mikan blinked back in surprise. “Ruka?”

Natsume sighed. “I’m sure it’s Ruka.”

He burst through the door of their house, a sack of charcoal slung behind him. “As soon as I found out there was an outage, I knew you might just do something stupid.” He dropped the sack on the side of the room. “I brought gas for the stove, matches, charcoal, firewood and a lighter.”

Natsume frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“I was just thinking that you’d….”

No. it was starting to make a lot of sense. “I wasn’t even thinking of using my alice,” Natsume said.

Ruka narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

Maybe Natsume would have returned with a more powerful retort, if he didn’t remember just then, that Ruka had every reason to be a little paranoid, and it was all Natsume’s doing.

And maybe they would have wasted a little time over banter over how someone as busy as Ruka shouldn’t have taken the time out of his busy vet schedule to gallop across town just to keep Natsume in check.

If only they just had the time.

If only Mikan hadn’t reminded him just then, a lighter, a box of matches, liquid gas and charcoal, bunched up on one side of the room, would probably be a fire hazard, if they didn’t store it immediately.

With the chaos of all three of them in the same room in their country home, Natsume was just glad that there were no other visitors to witness this.

Still, that wasn’t how life was supposed to be lived. Visitors weren’t limited to the four walls of the hospital that had been a salient part of his existence for so long.

There were visitors that came with the foot traffic only expected of a cafe, strangers that never became more than the face, the occasional name, or the small talk that went on between them. There were visitors in the neighbors, sojourners and tourists that were regulars for only the two weeks and three weeks that made up their stay in that small town.

And notably, their old classmates took the time out to visit.

Shoda had visited once, and talked about a long term reconnaissance assignment in the US military. She wasn’t even based in the country anymore, and when she mentioned something about reasons to stay abroad, with a hint of pink in her cheeks, Natsume would bet she wouldn’t be returning to Japan anytime soon.

Ruka had visited a bit more frequently, and Hotaru had visited enough times in a year, that two to three times a year, had become the regular.

Visitors were signs. They were signs of time moving at a snail’s pace, yet, at the same time, at a rapid pace. Perceptions of time oscillated in such a frequent and sporadic pace that Natsume couldn’t help but feel that at a certain point, he had lost his own sense of time, and he was probably never getting it back.

They were signs of progress being made in society as a whole, with every visit and every long night talk over tea. Mochiage was on a business trip every month, helping with heavy construction and development of third world countries. Fox eyes was working with a traveling circus.

Kokoroyomi had visited once, talking about life working in national security, yet he had declined to disclose too much. He didn’t ask any questions, and even if it did, it would have been a mere pleasantry, and the grin plastered on his face, never wavered. Natsume liked to think that somehow, he had managed to make out secrets in those deep thoughtful eyes, so profound,maybe Kokoroyomi had the power to even look into the future.

Or maybe he just knew too much.

Time was moving at a rapid pace with each doctor’s appointment and with each visit, but it also moved at a snail’s pace, and when it was just him and Mikan alone in the room, it was like time, for a moment reminded him, life wasn’t measured in progress or outward achievements, but in moments that had him frozen, unable to breathe for a microsecond, figuring out for himself how he was supposed to feel.

“I… was gonna wait till the doctor confirmed it before I told you but… when Kokoroyomi came—” Mikan stumbled over her words, as if changing the pace, as if adding something could have softened the news, changed the trajectory of the conversation or his emotions. “Natsume, how are you feeling?”

“Why would I be angry about it? Or why would I be sad about it?” Natsume stumbled on his own words. He didn't even know if it had been a second or a few minutes or even an hour that had pissed. He was only aware of the fact that he had slumped uselessly on the chair, as his mind reorganized his own emotions into something more intelligible.

That was the funny thing about shock. It was everything at once: happy, sad, angry, scared and every other perceptible emotion miraculously fitting into a singular moment.

“It’s just…” Mikan cocked her head to the side. “I can't tell how you feel either.”

I can't tell how I feel either. Natsume bit his lip and lowered his eyes towards the table in front of him. “I think… it's just because I never thought I'd live long enough to be a father.”

“So how long are you staying this time?”

It could have come off as an attempt to make conversation,but even when the question was already out in the open, Natsume was still second thinking what he had just said.

Was that even the best thing to ask?

Hotaru, over the years, had been becoming more and more of a regular visitor, as if she had developed an affinity to their first born and now four-year-old, Emi.

He shouldn’t have been at all surprised, when Hotaru turned to him with the most nonchalant and deadpan expression, her pale face, not at all a contrast to the linoleum floors of the hospital.

“I haven't even bought a plane ticket back to Germany yet,” she answered.

“They’re expensive?” Natsume surmised. Hotaru was a cheapskate when she needed to be, and it came with the territory of having money as her one true love.

Or at least one of them. Natsume thought naughtily to himself.

“Actually, the tickets are much cheaper now,” Hotaru said. “I expect they’ll get a lot more expensive towards Golden Week.”

“Then why stay?”

“You don’t want me here?” Hotaru asked, a subtle yet sly fox-like grins. To a stranger, it probably would have come off as more incendiary than playful, especially coupled with her token poker face in every other situation.

But, married to her best friend and the best friend of her alleged flame, Natsume knew better. “Do what you want. It’s your life.”

“Because I spend too much time with Mikan… with Emi? Or with Ruka?” Hotaru pressed.

“They’re happier with you here. By extension, I’m happier with you here.”

“And that’s why I’m here too. I’m happier here. Besides, I'm not in a hurry to get back to work,” she said. “And maybe the next time, I go back to Germany, it’ll just be to gather my stuff and wrap up those last few odds and ends.”

“Did anything happen?” Natsume asked. He would be lying if he said he didn't have an inkling of an answer, before Hotaru gathered her own thoughts.

“A lot happened,”

A lot has been happening since Mikan gave birth to Emi only four years back, since they slept four hours a night only to keep their daughter nourished and asleep through the night.

It wasn't easy being a parent, and Hotaru’s visits had been the boon he didn't expect and wished he didn't need. After all, Hotaru had offered to pick Emi up from school, so Natsume could be there before Mikan was wheeled off to surgery, so he could be there for both her and their son.

The first few months since Émis birth passed by quickly, like a fevered dream, figuratively.

Even literally.

The lack of sleep and the exhaustion had Natsume developing fevers at the most inopportune times, and even Ruka had decided to cancel a trip to France to help out.

It was a routine trip anyway, or so, that had been how Ruka rationalized all of it. He had been making a lot of trips to Europe lately, to visit his mother's side, and reconnect with cousins.

Or so, that's what he explained.

Natsume and Mikan had made better sense of it themselves, slowly over phone calls and texts.

First, Ruka spent a lot of his European trips in Germany.

Second, that he'd be there for weeks at a time.

Third, that he was going there four times a year.

On top of all of that, Hotaru strangely knew too much about everything going on.

They had started to talk that often.

“If you're staying here for good, it's for Ruka isn't it?” Natsume asked.

Hotaru was quick and not at all hesitant to admit it. “Partially.”

“He told me he had looked into getting a vet license there as well.”

Hotaru hummed. “But he did abandon that Germany talk right? I talked him out of it, told him we’re better off starting something new here in Japan.”

“We?”

Hotaru was deliberately ignoring the gut of the question. “I just feel like I've done enough… like I'm entering a new stage of my life.”

“Really, you don't regret leaving on your own?”

Hotaru shook her head. “I worked on medical instrumentation with Hungary, with one particular project testing on Alice biology. We made the breakthroughs we needed. I've contributed enough.” She narrowed her eyes at Natsume. “And I guess that also means whatever debt my brother and I have for you saving us in that time travel loop has been paid.”

It had been years, but Hotaru still talked in debts, compensations and subsidies. And maybe she would never stop talking about money with such precision and reverence. However, she was certainly much much warmer than when he had first met her.

“Hotaru, thank you,” Natsume said. “If it weren’t for you and your brother, I wouldn’t be here today.” His mouth soured at such an uncharacteristic admission. Such a formal and dramatic line was outside of the purview of his own personality, and it grated when of all people, it was Hotaru on the other end, the one classmate whose presence had been so unsettling all those years back in the academy.

Her piercing violent eyes never changed, and back then, it was like she could read him almost as well as Kokoroyomi. With how much of a central role she played in both Mikan and Ruka’s wife, he wouldn’t be surprised if she could make those same astute observations, even while lacking that same mindreading alice.

“Back then, I went back in time, and saved you because you made Mikan happy. I wanted her to be happy.”

“Thank you for that,” Natsume repeated, still mildly self conscious at his inability to muster the most optimal pleasantries. Hadn’t he worked corporate for two years already? Was he that rusty already? It was like he was back to his awkward twelve year old self again.

Or maybe he had just never outgrown it.

Either way, Hotaru carried the conversation. “Because she saved me years before, back when I was a kid, running away from the academy.” Her expression softened to something a little more welcoming. “She saved me back when we were kids. She made me happy, so I saved you… for her. Then, you saved me. And I saved you again. Relationships are gifts that really keep giving, aren’t they?”

It could have been the first time he had felt completely comfortable revealing such a vulnerable side of him to Hotaru. Maybe Ruka had somehow thawed her, even if he had never been the type to rephrase befriending aloof people as an achievement.

What would Ruka say if he were here? If he saw us having this conversation… Maybe they wouldn’t have had that conversation if Ruka had been there in the first place. Natsume was almost grateful Ruka had a busy day at work that day. He wouldn't be coming to the hospital until late in the evening.

There wasn’t much to see anyway. Mikan would likely be out cold the whole afternoon.

The doctor who had come out a second later, had already confirmed what he, and likely Hotaru, had been thinking.

“She’s asleep, probably until evening. It was difficult labor, but she should make a complete recovery….” He started. “But, you can meet your son now.”

Hotaru nodded at Natsume to go ahead. “I’ll wake Emi-chan up.”

It was Mikan’s second birth, but her first C-section. At first, Natsume couldn’t believe how Mikan had managed to convince her best friend to take the first flight out.

Then and there, as he followed the doctor through the hallway, he couldn’t help but think how everything was starting to make a lot more sense.

Natsume had been lucky with the first, and deliberate with the second.

The third was the last. An accident they hadn’t been expecting, but an accident he had been more thankful for than regretful of.

Regret was a looming emotion that threatened to blanket him at any moment. She was a child, but Natsume had been lucky with the first two, his own alice hadn’t manifested in either of them.

Thank god it was rare.

Still, ‘rare’ didn’t mean the chances of the youngest inheriting them were zero just yet. Her birth had left one question answered, and sometimes he’d have to wait years after the birth for the answer. Alone in the room with her, his mother's voice echoed.

I’m sorry, you inherited it….

He couldn’t help but contrast the silence to his surroundings when she’s awake. The screams left him nursing a throbbing headache some days. If anything, it had been him completely abstaining from Alice's use, that had him riding through the most soul sucking and exhaustion ridden aspects of fatherhood.

“Emi-chan, go play with Toru-chan outside.” Natsume put one finger to his mouth, hoping she at least got the message.

Emi-chan was ten, toeing the lines of eleven. Unbelievably, she was already older than Natsume was when he first got sent to the academy, yet, to Natsume, she was still only a baby.

Had he been that young when he was sent on missions?

The academy had changed at least. They had gone so far as to allow the kids to go home for holidays. One very welcome change Shiki had lobbied for, and one change he and Mikan could only be thankful for.

“Daddy you don’t need hel—-”

Natsume replied with a much louder hush, hoping that wasn’t enough to wake up their youngest, Kaori. She was hard enough to put to bed as is. “Or you can help your mother,” he suggested.

Mikan wasn’t doing a lot, probably preparing some tea or coffee and a few pastries and traditional Japanese sweets, but Ruka and Hotaru had already eaten anyway.

“Mommy said she doesn’t need any more help.”

Natsume sighed and pulled the cover of the futon over Kaori’s sleeping figure, before pulling himself out of his Indian sit.

“Well uncle and auntie are coming pretty soon, so maybe we should start setting the tables soon.” Natsume took a quick peek at his messages. Ruka had sent a selfie of him and a deadpan Hotaru on the passenger's seat just a minute ago. It only dawned on Natsume at that moment how strangely the words uncle and aunt rolled off of his tongue, especially when referring to those two of all people.

“Yay! Uncle Ruka and Auntie Hotaru are coming!”

“Emi, not too loud, and don’t run in the hallways!” Natsume said, before settling for a sigh.

That conversation and that momentary lapse from reality that it gave him were both jarring and somehow, it left him exhausted.

Were they that old already? Still, referring to Mikan as “mommy” and Natsume as “daddy” had been a deliberate decision. Calling Ruka and Hotaru uncle and auntie had been another decision, if only to teach their children the importance of honorifics and respect from an early age.

“Toru! Let’s help daddy set the table.”

“But mommy needs help with the cakes.”

“It’s okay Toru-chan. I’m halfway done already.”

“If you don’t help out, uncle Ruka won’t show you any more photos of the farm animals.”

“No! He will. Daddy she’s lying right?”

Natsume was much slower, and he was starting to wonder where Emi got all her energy from, or how Mikan still managed to keep up with them. Maybe his condition was catching up to him, or maybe he was just getting older.

At this point, he was lucky he got older, when the alternative had been dying at the age of thirteen, then dying in his early twenties.

He walked the hallway of their house much more slowly than his own kids, those same hallways that opened up to a living area, a kitchen then a dining room.

“Uncle Ruka won’t.” He ruffled Toru’s hair. “Besides, you’re already doing a good job helping your mama.” He flashed his daughter a stern look, then shifted towards his son. “You two, no fighting okay? It’s not every day we’re all together. Toru, help mama finish frosting the cakes. Emi and I will set the table.”

“Papa, uncle Ruka will show me the pictures of sheep right?”

“He will, promise.”

At the ripe age of six, Toru was at a phase where he was unnaturally obsessed with farm animals, and Ruka had been his outlet.

Hotaru admittedly spent a lot of her time in Tokyo, while Ruka just did not have a lot of free time with the amount of work he had which involved driving around Japan. With splitting holidays with families and compromising with partners and their families, meetups with just the four of them were few and far in-between and they were only lucky, Ruka had messaged them about a bottle of spiced wine they had received as a Christmas gift and Mikan lightly suggesting a joint Christmas and birthday celebration.

November 27 and December 25? 

Too far away from each other, but if not for any of that, maybe they would have settled for only two meet-ups that year.

“Visitors! Visitors! We got visitors.” Emi made a song for herself in some weird recapitulation of the happy birthday song, as she pulled open the cupboard, and stood on her tippy toes, reaching out for the top most shelf, and Natsume knew exactly what she was looking for.

“Hey, be careful,” Natsume called out from behind her. “Daddy will get it for you.”

They had the “nice plates” and the “normal ones.” The nice plates were for ‘when we have visitors’ or so that was how Mikan first explained it to Emi, when she was first old enough to climb up on a stool and help Mikan in the kitchen with at the least, the child-friendly tasks like mixing the eggs and the cheese for the scrambled eggs. The normal plates were pastel-colored pieces of ceramic that found their way to the drying rack every day. The nice plates on the other hand were porcelain pieces, with hand painted flowers on the edges. MIkan had found them years ago in a farmer’s market and since then, she had never let them go.

Emi and Toru had somehow inherited that same taste for art at a young age. Natsume had never understood it, yet he indulged in those small things, if only to see his family excited.

Natsume stopped behind Emi and hefted her up on his shoulder. He strained at her weight. She wasn’t heavy at all, but she was growing at a much faster rate than he was expecting.

And she was still singing. “Visitors. Visitors. We got more visitors.”

“You really get excited for visitors huh?” Natsume commented. Likely they didn’t get a lot of new visitors in the academy.

“Visitors means nice plates, gifts, and new stories.”

New stories… huh?

He didn’t prod. “Emi-chan, We only need the dessert plates, okay? Also, be careful with the plates. Hold them tightly.” When he was satisfied she had gotten enough, he set her back down on the ground.

Emi was eleven years old. Yet, she was so small, and Natsume couldn’t believe he had ever been that small and innocent when he was running mission after mission. He had been light enough to be propped on shoulders, and had been young enough that a father or mother would have been a little doubtful about trusting them with a few pieces of porcelain.

Still, she had completed her own mission without a hitch, placing the plates carefully on the table.

“I wanna help!” Toru bounded into the dining area.

“Are you done helping mommy?” Natsume asked, taking a quick peek at the kitchen, where Mikan had started putting dishes into the dishwasher. “Give me a minute, I’ll help you with it… Let me help your sister get the tea cups and the saucers first.” He hefted Emi up on his shoulders again. “Be careful…”

“Daddy, I’m fine. I’m already eleven.”

How many times had Natsume said the same thing? To him, eleven was too young to be left in the kitchen unsupervised. Hell, eleven was too young to have been doing any of those things Persona had made him do.

And Emi was humming that song again, albeit a little more softly.

Visitors, visitors, we got more visitors.

At the age of eleven, Emi saw visitors as something worth singing about. She saw visitors as nice plates, as gifts… as new stories.

New stories.

Where did she learn that?

Back when he was her age, he was of the firm belief that visitors were a waste of time, relationships were a distraction and consequently, he had been avoiding any chance at a visitor, trapped in the hospital room, and he thought it almost a miracle that somehow, they had managed to raise a daughter that believed the complete opposite.

No, if anything, it was also Mikan’s doing.

“Okay, let’s set everything. He propped Toru on the chair. “Okay can you two do it, we need a saucer, a cup, and a dessert plate. Then we get the utensils from the kitchen,” Natsume said.

The kids both nodded, and Emi continued to sing. A few lines later, Toru had gotten the melody and the very simple lyrics.

Visitors visitors. We got visitors.

VIsitors Visitors. We got more visitors.

They were singing in some out of tune unison, still when it was his own children, he could convince himself it was a world-class performance. Mikan seemed to think the same way.

Natsume dug through the drawers while Mikan washed some of the other plates on the sink right next to him. “There really is a lot to learn from a bunch of classes, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Natsume said, stifling that small grin that played on his lips. He didn’t look up, but he heard it in the humor in her tone, and he noted in the way that she was a little bit faster aat scrubbing that one plate that didn’t fit into the dishwasher.

They were both stifling the stupidest grins.

“Wait, why did you bring…”

Within an hour, Hotaru and Ruka were at their door, lugging 3 brown bags with the signature ‘M’ over them. Natsume bit his lip, as his mouth naturally formed the word.

Mcdonald’s…

If Emi and Toru heard him, they might just…

“Mcdonald’s! Mommy there’s McDonald’s!”

“Uncle Ruka, is that Mcdonald’s?”

Their house was still small enough that anyone that passed through the front door of the house was everyone’s business. The kids were swarming around Ruka and Hotaru, their eyes completely boring into those brown bags.

Don’t answer. Natsume refused to say it aloud. No he couldn’t. If it were up to him, those kids wouldn't be getting fast food, save for the occasional treat or for the occasion that they had no other choice, like when they were driving through the US countryside visiting Shoda-san only a year or two ago. At that moment, the last thing he wanted was the kids getting Mcdonald’s without a little vetting beforehand. They had cake just that morning, and they had already finished half of the container of mochi Mikan had brought home from the store.

Ruka, fortunately, met his gaze, before looking down at Emi, and he had decades of living with Natsume to understand those piercing glares. Natsume didn’t need to say anything else.

“Wow, Emi-chan, Toru-chan, you two are much bigger now!” Ruka’s eyes were wide with genuine surprise, but all of Ruka’s emotions were genuine anyway.

Emi pouted at him. “Everyone says that.”

“Because it’s true!” Ruka responded playfully. He had this very natural twang to his voice that came out when he was talking to the kids, which somehow had the kids gravitating to him with every visit. Maybe it came with the animal pheromone thing, Natsume felt, although he didn’t completely understand it himself.

Natsume turned to Toru and Emi. “You two, help your mother?”

“But daddy—” Toru turned to his father, one hand already halfway to the paper bag.

Sighs.

“If you don’t help your mother, no Mcdonald’s.”

Mcdonald’s wasn’t the most ideal carrot to hold over them, but it worked at least, and for a good few minutes, Natsume found himself alone with Ruka and Hotaru for just long enough to set the record straight.

“So what made you decide that Mcdonald’s would be a good idea?” Natsume asked. “Didn’t we agree we weren't having dinner tonight? That you two would probably be eating on the way.”

Ruka grinned sheepishly. “That was the plan…” He shifted his gaze quickly towards Hotaru.

“We both got off pretty work pretty late tonight, didn’t have time for dinner… and… Ruka—”

“Hotaru.” Ruka’s tone suddenly sliced through the thick of the conversation. “Mcdonald’s was your idea.”

“We were hungry.”

“We could have stopped by a convenience store…”

“And we bring rice balls?” Hotaru raised one eyebrow at Ruka. “Besides, it’s a special occasion right?” She looked expectantly at Natsume, with the most confident tone and the most no-nonsense of expressions.

It was Christmas, but in a country that channeled all its energy into the New Year’s that followed a week later. If it hadn’t been for the Christmas Balls they had every year back in the academy, Christmas would have been just another day, and if it wasn’t for the surprise parties that usually preceded the balls, maybe he would have also forgotten it was his birthday.

That was a miserable childhood, really… It was, at least, if he put up a strict comparison with the so-called normal ones his children were living.

“Natsume… sorry… we were planning on just getting for the two of us, but it didn’t seem right to come all the way here without buying anything for you or the kids.”

“Relax, it’s your birthday,” Hotaru said. “You can go back to feeding them miso soup and natto tomorrow.”

Ruka was the only one showing any hesitance at surprising them with Mcdonald’s. Yet, Hotaru made a good point, and she rode with whatever conclusion she made for herself, as she sauntered towards the table, set the brown bags on it and brought out the paper-wrapped burgers, and the piles of large fries.

“Happy Birthday, Daddy!” His eldest was calling out from the kitchen, and she proudly marched in with a white cake, decorated with the largest and juiciest strawberries.

Where did they even hide it? But Natsume wasn’t the type to check any suspicious box or compartment in the fridge. After the kids were born, Mikan had taken over the kitchen, a natural progression after working years in a cafe.

“Where is Kaori by the way?” Ruka asked.

MIkan followed behind the two kids. “Should we wake up Kao-chan?”

Natsume hummed. “Let her sleep for a bit…” He kept the later part to himself, but Mikan understood at least, Kaori had the worst post-nap temper among all their children. “Let’s just make sure to split the strawberries evenly.”

“Are you sure? It’s your birthday. You can ask for more,” Ruka said.

“You’re the visitors.”

As the others sat around the table, Emi stood up, and she turned to MIkan, then to Natsume expectantly. “Can I? I learned how to control my alice, promise.”

“Go ahead,” Natsume said. He turned to Mikan and stared long enough for her to meet his gaze. Be ready to nullify it, if anything happens.

She’d get it.

Emi had a fire alice, just like Natsume, but luckily, she had gotten the intermittent alice shape, similar to Aoi’s. Natsume’s relief at finding that out was a palpable and euphoric type of relief he probably would never shake off.

As she held her finger over the wick, Natsume couldn’t help but speak up. “Emi-chan, be careful with the flame. Don’t make it too strong or I won’t be able to blow it out— and only your mom will be able to—”

“I got it daddy! Don’t worry!”

She put one finger over the wick, and a flame seemed to rise out of the white tendrils of the wick, like a phoenix forcing its way out of the ashes.

When it wasn’t his energy or his flame, a fire alice looked like magic. Natsume couldn’t deny that strange out-of-body experience, seeing a flame that wasn’t his, yet carried a similar power.

And when he blew it out, he couldn’t deny the rasp in his throat either, or the ache as he puffed his chest. Alice fires were really something else, and they required a little more extra force to burn out.

And as soon as the flame went out, it was like the room exploded, even with just the voices of the two girls.

“I want a strawberry!”

“I want one too!”

Their kids at least, had gotten the same berry sweet tooth their father and his younger sister had.

“Wait, we’re having dessert first?” Mikan glanced over at the burgers on the table.

“Well, we had dinner already,” Natsume said, looking pointedly at both Ruka and Hotaru. At the least, the excitement over the cake had taken over their excitement over the Mcdonald’s. If it lasted a bit longer, he was convinced he could put off Mcdonald’s until the next day.

“Here! Strawberries.” Mikan deliberately picked the largest one and the juiciest one for both kids, as if it would be enough to distract both of them.

“How big do you want yours?” Mikan asked, as she reached out for Ruka and Hotaru’s plate.

“Whatever you’re willing to give, but the strawberry… give my share to Natsume.”

Mikan wore the goofiest grin. “Best friends will always be best friends huh?”

Blood rushed to Natsume’s head, and he found himself putting his hand to his forehead. He was blushing and he hated it, and the way Ruka had widened his eyes, and suddenly looked away, his own face a beet red. He didn’t know why Ruka was blushing, and he didn’t know how it had been such a damn contagious thing. It wasn’t cool at all.

“You’re the one who pretended you hated strawberries so Aoi could have your share every year,” Ruka said in defense.

“Mikan,” Hotaru interjected calmly. “Give my strawberry to Natsume too.”

“Well, I guess I’m giving my strawberry to Natsume too,” Mikan said.

“Wait, daddy likes strawberries?” Toru asked.

“Oh, he loves strawberries,” Hotaru had been the first to answer, and the most eager at least to ruffle Natsume’s feathers.

“But daddy always told us he hated strawberries… so when he did it to Auntie Aoi it was—” Emi interjected.

“Your dad loves strawberries,” Ruka said, a lot louder than Hotaru had, before he glanced accusingly at Natsume.

“I thought you outgrew that.”

“Old habits die hard,” Natsume admitted.

A few minutes later, his plate was a pile of strawberries, the two from his own kids half-eaten. Still, it was a kind gesture Natsume couldn't help but blush slightly over.

“Uncle Ruka, can you share me more pictures of the animals you’re taking care of?”

“Oh, if you wanna see more cows, I visited a farm back in Nagano just last week, and when I was in Tochigi last month, they had…”

“Is that an alpaca?”

“Wow, you do know your animals.”

“Toru, finish your cake, before you go to Ruka please,” Mikan said.

The boy had jumped out of his seat, and was soon standing behind Ruka, as the latter had been half way through pulling out his phone, before he turned to Mikan and Natsume for permission.

“After we eat,” Natsume added.

“Sorry Toru, Daddy said not yet.” Ruka said with a helpless grin.

Toru sighed in disappointment. “Fine.”

“Ruka seems good with kids,” Mikan commented. “Toru looks for you when you’re away.”

Ruka looked away sheepishly. “Maybe it comes with working with animals every day, sometimes you start craving human companionship.”

“Isn’t Hotaru enough?”

It had been years since their relationship had become more an obvious truth than a mere speculation, yet Ruka still navigated each conversation about it like he was denying the existence of a crush. At the least, shutting up had been a big improvement. “No comment,” he said bluntly.

And Hotaru grabbed the reigns of the conversation. “Mikan, you’re curious about… our future?”

MIkan shook her head. “I just thought that… Ruka might just enjoy kids… but of course, don’t think that it’s something you should be pressured to do.”

Hotaru’s smile widened almost uncharacteristically. “Maybe… in the near future. But when we’re both working jobs that take up a good 80% of our week… there isn’t much time to…”

“So you and Ruka do… ” Natsume glanced accusingly at Ruka, and if anything, it was only to see his friend frazzled, speed eating a burger, and almost choking on the meat. He recovered quickly. “Emi-chan, how’s life at the academy?” he asked.

Emi, at least, didn’t notice the trajectory of that last conversation. “Oh! Our math teacher told us to send his regards.”

“Jinno-sensei?” For a second, the eleven year old Mikan was back.

He’s still there?

Emi shook her head. “No…. Jinno-sensei teaches the middle school department now. Our teacher’s Tobita-sensei.”

“Iinchou’s still there?” Ruka asked.

“Well he doesn’t look like the type to leave either,” Natsume added.

“Iincho… class president. He was your classmate?--- your class president?” Emi asked. She turned to each of them one by one. “I thought Natsume was the class president—-”

A snort from Hotaru of all people cut throough whatever Emi-chan had been half way through saying. It devolved into coughs. Hotaru had been half way through sipping a cup of tea. “Excuse me… Natsume— class president? You think he would have been a good example for anyone?”

“What Hotaru is saying here, is that Natsume was a bit of a rebel… couldn’t even be bothered to tie the ribbon on his collar.”

“You didn’t wear it either Ruka…”

“It was in solidarity.”

In solidarity of what? Natsume bit his lip, prodding any conversation like that would open a can of worms, they weren’t ready to discuss yet, not on a day like this of all days

Emi could have read their mind though. She was their age, when they first entered the academy. If Natsume wasnt’ stupid or cynical then, then Emi, being his daughter, would likely have the same capacity at his age to make sense of the sudden lull.

“The other kids were talking about rumors…That long ago, there were people who had really powerful Alices and they had to do missions for the school.”

Mikan sighed. “Who told you that—”

“There were.” Hotaru was no nonsense with her response. “But what does it matter? They don’t do it anymore right?”

“Some students still choose to do it, but choose to pursue that path when they graduate,” Natsume added. He noted that Persona, Nobara and the others had moved on to working for the military and even Tsubasa had started working with the police stations after graduation. Good compensation was still good compensation.

“Daddy, why didn’t you decide to work in the military too?” Emi asked. “Tobita-sensei said you had a strong alice.”

Had?

Technically he still has it.

“Was it like mine?” she asked. “Did it run out when you were in the academy? Were you forced to leave?”

“Emi-chan, we all graduated,” Mikan clarified.

“But you know… now that I think about it… we never saw daddy’s alice… right?”

Toru nodded. “I see mommy’s nullification alice, when she puts out Emi-neechan’s flames. I see Uncle Ruka playing with the wild rabbits outside, and oba-san’s weird inventions… but.” Even the six year old was turning expectantly towards him. “Is daddy’s alice that powerful? I wanna see!”

“Daddy, can we see?”

Ruka stood up. “Toru-chan, you wanna see the alpacas?”

“After we see daddy’s Alice?”

All eyes were on him, and Natsume couldn’t ignore that pang of guilt. By choosing to hide it, was he betraying anyone? And if he did, of all people, had he betrayed his kids?

Was it wrong that he had pretended it never existed for so long? Had he ended up hiding it from his children against his will? Was it wrong to have hidden it for so long, to not even bring it up to Emi as part of a conversation?

Right, she had been learning the alice shapes at school. If anything, Natsume was a coward. A hand had dropped on his shoulder, and squeezed hard, digging onto bone.

“Mikan…” he muttered, just loud enough for her to notice.

Mikan, should I tell them? Regardless, he needed the support.

“Emi-chan…maybe we can have this conversation for another day?” she suggested.

Back when he was Emi's age, he was doing missions for the academy. Granted, times were different, but she's smart, eventually she'll figure it out. 

“Emi-chan, Toru-chan, do you know the four alice shapes?”

Intermittent

Diffuse

Childhood

Emi was a bright child, and she rattled them off in seconds.

“There’s one more, right?” Natsume asked.

Emi looked towards the ceiling, deep in thought. “But they said it was very rare.”

“But what kind of shape is it?” Natsume pressed. On a worst case scenario, he’d prefer his daughter figured it out herself, the way all of them had.

“It’s a shape that shortens a person's lifespan every time they use it…” Emi was a very bright child, and Natsume didn’t have to say anything else, for Emi’s jaw to drop, and for her expression to something of disbelief and horror.

“But Emi-chan it isn’t something we have to worry about— don’t worry!” Mikan scrambled and hurried to Emi’s seat, pulling her in a close hug.

How much should he tell Emi? How much would she understand? At her age, Natsume had known everything, because back then it had been so simple. It was his disease. He was gonna die, but this was a bit different, it felt like a much more complex conversation.

This isn’t your problem. It’s your father’s.

A life span shortening alice is a disease, but it’s a disease which they’ve been working hard to cure.

Mikan intervened almost immediately. “This is why daddy has a lot of medicine… And it’s why he can’t show you his alice, no matter how much he wants to show you… This is why he gives a lot of good advice on how to use your alice… You learned how to control it a long time ago, right daddy?”

Natsume nodded. “Yeah, I had a lot of practice.” He noted though, there were other things he need not explain to the kids yet, particularly what the ‘practice’ really involved. “So when I tell you to do something Emi-chan, please listen.”

And somehow, that conversation had lowered the temperature of the room by a few degrees, and for a moment, Natsume’s attention was on his eldest, as tears appeared at the corners of her eyes.

“Is daddy gonna die?” she said with a hush.

We’re all gonna die right?

We’re working on it every day.

There were so many ways to answer that question, but Natsume didn’t wanna lie, and nobody else believed that saying a “no” would have constituted some reasonable representation of the truth.

Natsume was still at the doctor’s office three times a year. The cupboards were still brimmed with every other experimental pill known to man.

Yet…

Yet…

“Where’s Toru?” Natsume was ready to stand up, and search the room, when hands came up from behind him and held him back.

“Daddy’s not gonna leave us right?”

“I won’t,” Natsume said. If I can help it. He kept that part to himself. He helped Toru onto his lap, and fed a strawberry to the young boy. “I’ll be here for a long time.”

It was funny, how the tension in the room could thicken so quickly, how a once talkative Ruka and Hotaru were suddenly munching silently on the burgers, and how quickly the kids had forgotten that Mcdonald’s had been on the table for a while.

He hated the idea of Mcdonald’s but Natsume hated how the dinner conversation died to something so unnerving, but maybe it had been his fault for never bringing it up. When had his own mom brought up the conversation… when he was two or even three? He could have sworn that for so long, he had known his mother’s condition, but maybe only because it had been so inextricably related to his own.

HIs mother couldn’t hide it at all, when that same condition almost killed her son.

Still, admittedly, it had been unfair to have never brought it up, and maybe he had gotten away with it a little too lightly, merely punished by a ruined birthday celebration.

“Ah! Toru-chan!”

A pile of strawberries only inches from the edge of the table had been a bad idea, especially when everyone had been distracted with their own thoughts. Natsume’s senses however, were much sharper, honed by his years as an operative, that when his son had attempted to fall over and catch it, Natsume had pulled away and bent over, in an attempt to catch the ceramic plate, before it hit the floor.

Pieces scattering on the wooden floor.

“Ah.”

Natsume didn’t notice at first.

“The strawberries!”

“Toru-chan, you okay?”

A hand clutched his. “We need to get this cleaned up.” He turned to see Mikan right next to him, her hazel eyes were serious, no-nonsense, and Mikan had adopted that same attitude only in times of stress.

There was a lot going on. There was a broken plate on the floor. His two children were confused, stressed, and grieving.

“I’ll get the first aid kit. You two take care of the rest.”

Ruka appeared right next to him, with a tissue holder. “Clean it up first. Is it deep? Does it need stitches?”

“I’m fine you too… The priority right now is keeping Emi and Toru safe.” Natsume grabbed two wads of tissue and pressed on his hand. “I’ll get the first aid kid.”

The cut stung, but not enough to force a whimper or even a scream out of him. He’d been through much worse.

He entered the room and let out a sigh of relief. It was a miracle how their youngest had slept through all of that.

Where was the first aid kit again?

First drawer of the dresser… He guessed. They hadn’t needed it often enough, fortunately.

He sighed. Although he had planned to wake her up somehow, so she could eat the strawberries, the last thing he wanted was for her to see what had just transpired. Maybe it was a boon that she had slept through all of that.

He scolded himself as the relief of something so questionable had somehow blanketed him and comforted him. What happened was a lesson in itself, Natsume shouldn’t have hidden anything.

It was a struggle, rifling through his belongings with one hand, but the first aid kit was a cold box in a sea full of socks, handkerchiefs and mittens, and he found it within seconds. Pulling it out by the handle, without spilling out the other contents of the drawer was another struggle altogether, and when it smacked the edge of the drawer, Natsume bit back a curse.

“Daddy?” Kao’s soft voice had been ironically been much more startling, than smacking the drawer on the door.

“Kaori-chan go back to sleep.” He pressed the gauze on his hand, a little bit harder, as if that could have done anything to stop the blood that had seeped through the tissue.

“Daddy. Good night? Tuck?”

A good night tuck? A bedtime story?

“Daddy’s busy.”

In the darkness, he heard the racked sobs. The moon was a pretty bright night. How much did she say? Did she see the bloodied tissue? Did she notice any venom in his voice?

Had he been a little too cold.

One thing was for sure, that night, he hadn’t been the best dad to any of his children. And that was what had him kneeling on the futon, careful not to stain the blanket. If he could make amends, he would.

At the least, her sobs died quickly when he was right next to her. “Daddy what’s that?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“I got hurt.” Natsume turned towards the side, holding his hand closer to him.

At that moment, a two year old was much stronger than he was. She grabbed him by the hand, and although the sudden force hurt, Natsume couldn’t pull away.

For fear of hurting her? Maybe.

Or maybe because her hand had been warm, an all too familiar feeling.

“Kaori-chan, what are you doing?”

It happened in a few seconds, too short of an interval to even notice that he had suspended his disbelief, and he had been right in doing so.

Kaori looked at him. She didn’t speak, or maybe she hadn’t known the right words to say just yet. After all, she was only a few months past two, but she looked at him expectantly, her eyes the same deep brown as his mother's.

“Kaori-chan, thank you.”

And he looked at the door, he heard hushed whispers, the clatter of plates and Emi and Toru’s chirping voices. At least, Emi had stopped crying.

Was it the same Alice as Subaru’s? What was the shape? Would it kill her in years? At the least it wasn’t an alice of destruction.

Still, the more he thought about it, the sooner he realized, he could rest knowing no one had inherited his alice.

It was likely Subaru’s alice stone inside him that had given her such an alice.

Life shortening alices are limited to alices that have potential for large change or destruction. But even if she gets diagnosed with a life shortening Alice, it would be a different world. No one would force her into missions, coop her up in some hospital until the next mission.

Hell, there was no way he was letting anything similar happen to anyone he knew.

Would it be the same for her?

He would never know.

Still, he couldn't help but just feel it in the way her healing alice coursed through his veins,.

Her Alice wasn't destructive or powerful. It was a warm hearth that emitted its energy in tempered bursts.

A diffusion Alice maybe? A few seconds later, he was still staring at the white line over his palm.

Her Alice was healing.

And he could only thank the gods out there, that whatever he and his mother had, really was that rare.

Maybe in the end, his curse and his disease really will just die with him.