Chapter Text
Epilogue - A Not-Insignificant Time Later
Nanjo Kojiro wasn't the type to lounge around in bed in the mornings, preferring to get up and get his day started almost as soon as he woke up. There were always things he needed to get done at the restaurant before the doors opened for the day, not to mention his morning run and going to the gym. Kaoru called him a masochist for his inability to sleep in; Kojiro argued that it was just efficient not to waste his day away.
The entire argument had become a moot point in the weeks since the Christmas Party. For the first time in his life, Kojiro was no longer in a rush to leave the confines of his bed. Probably because it wasn’t his bed he slept in these days, more often than not.
Kaoru shifted against him, seeking out Kojiro’s warmth. As prickly as his boyfriend was when he was awake — and Kojiro would never tire of getting to use that term, his boyfriend — Kaoru was a cuddler when he was unconscious. He’d known that, of course, but he’d never gotten to relax and simply enjoy it before, knowing Kaoru was liable to kick him out any minute.
Now that it was no longer an issue, Kojiro took full advantage of the lazy mornings that he woke in Kaoru’s bed to hold him and enjoy the snuggling.
Still, he cracked his eyes open only a moment later. The first thing he saw, displayed proudly on the wall directly across from the bed, was a scroll.
I have loved you longer than I’ve known how to say it.
He still remembered how nervous Kaoru had been when he'd asked if he could keep it.
It was the night of the party when they’d ended up at Kaoru’s apartment, ignoring the fact that Kojiro’s had been so much closer. It had been symbolic, he knew — Kaoru asking him to stay at his place that night — and he thought his heart might burst as he’d agreed.
Kaoru had been open and vulnerable, in a way he so seldom was, as he'd admitted he hadn’t created the scroll. Though he'd looked downright annoyed when Kojiro had responded with a smug, “Yeah, I figured that one out, Pinky.”
“How? When?” Kaoru demanded.
“When Oka unwrapped a bottle of your favorite sake. The one you buy yourself for special occasions.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Kojiro simply shrugged. “Figured it didn’t matter. Just because you didn’t create it, that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. It… it is true, right?”
“Of course, it’s true. Idiot,” Kaoru retorted before shoving a letter into his hands. The handwriting on it was nowhere near as artistic as the scroll. All it had on the front was Kojiro’s name, the penmanship neat but messy in comparison. Perfect, in Kojiro’s opinion. As perfect as the contents.
Proof that Kaoru had intended to confess his feelings that night already, until Kojiro’s Secret Santa had done it for him instead.
“So who gave me the scroll?” Kojiro remembered asking.
“Miya,” Kaoru said bluntly. “Though I believe he had help. Isn’t that right, Carla?”
“I’m afraid I cannot disclose the details of Secret Santa gift assignments, Master,” Carla replied, tone smugly pleasant. “Under Subsection 3, Paragraph 2: ‘All gift assignments and related conspiracies shall remain confidential in perpetuity, or until such time as all participants voluntarily disclose their involvement.’”
“I didn’t create that part of the protocol!”
“Miya specified the extent of the protocol after its initial creation, Master.”
Kojiro had tried very hard not to laugh. He’d failed, but he’d tried. Just like Kaoru had tried very hard to be angry, but had been grinning fondly instead.
In the end, Kojiro’s letter — with all its perfect imperfections — sat framed on his bedside table. And the scroll, with all its fraudulent beauty, hung on Kaoru’s bedroom wall.
A reminder, he had admitted, for when he got scared and thought he needed to run.
“You’re thinking too loudly, gorilla,” Kaoru muttered, nuzzling his face into Kojiro’s neck.
“No, I’m not. You’re just sleeping too softly,” Kojiro argued.
“Where’s my breakfast?”
Kojiro rolled his eyes, even though he was grinning. “How could I forget,” he drawled dryly. “You want western or traditional?”
“Omurice.”
“Coming right up, Princess,” Kojiro told him, kissing Kaoru’s temple before climbing out of bed. Despite his demands, Kaoru still protested the loss of Kojiro’s warmth, grumbling and snuggling deeper under the covers in an unfairly adorable way.
Kojiro watched him for a moment before turning away, eyes once again landing on the scroll.
He smiled at it before heading towards the kitchen.
It might not be the way he was used to starting his day, but it was infinitely better.
*************
Reki was sitting on the floor of Dope Sketch, stocking shelves, for a good twenty minutes before Oka walked in.
“You’re late!” he told his manager without even looking toward the door, which was how they started most days that Reki had an opening shift.
“Guess that means you don’t want the lunch I brought you,” Oka said casually.
Reki’s head snapped up. “I didn’t say that!”
He scrambled to his feet just as Shadow walked in behind Oka, carrying several bags of takeout from Dairy Queen.
“Oh, hey Shadow,” Reki greeted. “What’re you doing here?”
“What’s it look like? Having lunch,” Shadow said gruffly, setting the bags on the counter.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work or something?”
“It’s my day off. What’s it to you?”
Reki grinned. “Aw, you’re spending your day off hanging out with your boyfriend at work. That’s so sweet.”
Shadow bristled. “You got a problem with that, brat?”
“Weren’t you here all day yesterday with Langa?” Oka interrupted, amused. “Remind me again: which one of you was actually on the schedule?”
Reki flushed. "That was- it was different! I was helping him with—"
His phone buzzed, keeping him from having to think up an excuse. He pulled it out to see a text from Langa.
'Done with chores. Skate?'
"Actually," Reki said, looking at his manager nervously, "Since Shadow’s here with you, do you think I could have the afternoon off?"
"Uh-huh," Oka said, smirking. "Tell Langa I said hi."
Reki quickly dashed into the back room to grab his skateboard and his backpack.
"We're still giving you a ride to S tonight, right?" Shadow asked as Reki ran towards the door.
"Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you at eleven!" Reki yelled over his shoulder, already halfway out the door. He doubled back, planning on snatching one of the bags of burgers, knowing Langa was always hungry, but Oka was already holding it out for him.
“We bought extra because I figured he’d be here by now,” he explained.
“Thanks, Oka!” Reki called out.
‘Meet you at the park. Got food. Bring drinks,” he texted Langa as he jumped on his board, being careful not to drop the bag of food.
Langa was already at the skate park by the time Reki made it there, skating the halfpipe. The afternoon sun caught in his blue hair as he flipped, board moving like an extension of himself.
Reki's heart did that stupid flutter thing it always did now when he saw Langa skating.
"Hey!" he called out.
Langa's face lit up — that smile that was just for Reki — as he veered towards him, kicking his board up into his hands as he got close.
He took the bag of food from Reki and then grabbed his hand, tugging him to sit on the bench next to him as he immediately began pulling burgers from the bag. “Did you bring me any poutine?”
His eyes lit up as he pulled the container of fries from the bottom of the bag.
“Sometimes I think you love that stuff even more than you love skating,” Reki said with a laugh, unwrapping his burger.
“I love both,” Langa said happily as he dug into his food. “I love you.”
Reki promptly choked on his hamburger.
"Dude." Reki's voice came out strangled. "You can't just— you can't just say it like that!"
"Why not?" Langa asked, genuinely confused. "It's true. I love you."
Reki's face was on fire. His heart was trying to escape his chest. Langa just said— Langa just—
“You should see your face right now,” Langa laughed. “Also, you’ve got ketchup on your cheek.”
Reki quickly wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You just said that to freak me out, didn’t you?”
“No. I said it because it’s true. I love you, Reki. I love skateboarding with you. I love just spending time with you. I love watching you in your workshop. I love—”
“Okay, you can stop now,” Reki interrupted before he died of embarrassment.
"Okay," Langa agreed easily, like he hadn't just turned Reki's entire world upside down.
Reki stared down at the half-eaten hamburger in his hand, feeling his heart racing in his chest.
"But for the record," Reki said quietly, not looking at Langa because he couldn't, he'd combust, "I love you too."
When he finally risked a glance over, Langa was smiling — that smile, the one that made Reki's chest feel too small — and reached out to grab Reki's free hand.
"I know," Langa said simply.
"You're impossible," Reki muttered, but he was grinning too.
“Wanna race to the pier after we finish eating?”
“Loser has to buy us ice cream.”
“You’re on,” Langa agreed as they both dug back into their food.
*************
Tadashi had always found the quiet tap-tap-tap of his fingers dancing over the keyboard at a steady pace to be a soothing sound. He often lost himself in it, the day flying by as he typed up notes for Ainosuke-sama or sent emails on his behalf. He was always a bit shocked by how late in the evening it had grown, though that was happening far less frequently in the weeks since the Christmas party.
Ainosuke-sama had decided that Tadashi worked too hard, and he'd ordered him to stop at a reasonable hour, though there was still some debate on what time, exactly, that was.
Today, though, he was almost finished with his work, having only one last email to send. He’d been putting this one off, partially because it made him anxious, and partially to savor it. There was nothing particularly complicated about the email itself. A simple RSVP to a fundraising gala the environmental committee was hosting, informing them that Ainosuke would be in attendance and would be bringing a plus one with him.
The fact that Tadashi was his guest for the gala caused his stomach to twist, however.
They weren’t going public with their relationship — not yet, at least, according to Ainosuke-sama, who refused to even entertain discussions on how doing so at some point might be damaging to his career — but he still wanted Tadashi there as his companion. And therein lay the difference. Tadashi was used to attending events with him. As his secretary, as his dog. Unnoticed and hidden in the background.
Not sitting beside him as an equal.
Part of him still thought it was wrong, that he didn’t deserve such a place of honor. Every time his thoughts veered in that direction, he found himself glancing at the glass apple that now sat on the corner of his otherwise pristine desk.
It is the Snake who tempts Adam. It isn’t a sin to be happy.
It was a reminder, if nothing else, that Ainosuke wanted Tadashi at his side, that having him there made him happy, even if Tadashi still, at times, had his own reservations about it.
The soft sounds of classical music coming through the wall from Ainosuke-sama’s office let him know he had finished his own work for the day, and Tadashi’s typing picked up the rhythm of the music. It was the record Tadashi had given him for Christmas. Another reminder, in a way, that Ainosuke wanted more than just duty and service from Tadashi; he wanted the connection that Tadashi had always denied himself, thinking to allow such closeness was improper.
Tadashi was typing the last couple of sentences when the music grew suddenly clearer, the door between their offices having been silently opened. He glanced up, briefly, to see Ainosuke standing there, looking devilishly handsome as he watched Tadashi work with a small smile of amusement.
“Aren’t you done yet, Tadashi?” he teased when he caught Tadashi looking.
“Almost, Ainosuke-sama,” Tadashi assured him, skimming the email one last time before hitting send. “Done,” he said, closing his laptop.
“Then come dance with me, puppy,” Ainosuke ordered, holding his hand out expectantly.
He rose from his seat, smoothing down his shirt. “Of course, Ainosuke-sama,” he said as he rounded his desk.
Ainosuke made a small noise of disapproval. “Where are we, Tadashi?” he asked, voice firm. Commanding.
“We’re in our private offices,” Tadashi said with a flush of embarrassment at what he knew was a reprimand.
“Indeed, we are. And are we alone?”
“We are. My apologies. Ainosuke.”
The name leaving his lips felt incomplete without the honorific, Tadashi thought, as he slipped his hand into his master’s. Of all the changes to their relationship since the party, that one was still a struggle. However, if sacrificing that small act of subservience caused Ainosuke to smile as he currently was, then Tadashi was willing to make an effort to do so.
“Good doggie,” he praised as he pulled Tadashi into his arms and began waltzing them around his office.
Dancing with Ainosuke was both familiar and new at the same time. Tadashi had learned how to dance back when they were children, after Ainosuke had started taking lessons for it. He’d taught Tadashi the steps after every lesson, the pair of them dancing around the garden together, getting familiar with the footwork before figuring out how to translate that into skateboarding instead.
Though it had been years since they’d danced together, following Ainosuke’s lead was as easy as breathing.
“I got a text from Langa this afternoon asking if we would be at S tonight,” his master told him as he spun them around the room, holding Tadashi as closely as the waltz would allow. “I told him we would be.”
“Would you like me to inform the helipad that we intend to use the helicopter?” Tadashi asked.
“Hmm, no. Not tonight. There is no need for a grand entrance, and I would prefer to have my dog with me. Would your Capmen be willing to run S tonight without you so we could race?”
Tadashi felt his eyes widen as he looked up and met his master’s crimson gaze. “You want to skate with me?”
“I have for quite some time,” Ainosuke admitted. “Though I suppose we should decide what we intend to wager?”
Ainosuke brought their dance to a stop, though Tadashi remained in his arms. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other until Ainosuke dipped his head, kissing Tadashi gently.
“I can’t think of anything more that I might want that I don’t already have,” Tadashi admitted.
“Good,” Ainosuke said, kissing him again. “Neither can I.”
*************
It was a night at S like any other, really. Oka had driven them all up to the mountain, forcing them to cram into his car instead of Shadow’s flower shop van. It meant Miya had to squish between the lovebirds in the backseat, but even Reki and Langa making gooey eyes at each other over his head wasn't too bad since Oka had brought Sketchy with him, and the fennec fox had spent the entire car ride curled up on Miya’s lap.
Shadow and Reki had raced because the slime wanted a rematch against the clown. He'd still lost — which Miya knew was going to happen — but he had at least finished the race this time. The big event for the night was the beef between Adam and Snake, which everybody was hyped about, but Miya figured would just be the pair of them flirting their way down the track.
The way the two of them were acting might have been cute if it wasn’t so disconcerting seeing Adam genuinely happy. All lovey-dovey and gross, which was true about how all of his friends were acting. Reki and Langa kept smooshing their faces together for selfies, since Langa wanted to make another scrapbook of the two of them. Miya had watched Cherry end an argument with Joe by simply grabbing him by the necklace and kissing him.
So they were still being dumbasses, but at least they were happier dumbasses, which was what Miya wanted, what he'd schemed for. So why did he feel so… so…
“There you are,” Cherry said, joining him by the fence where he’d been standing so he could watch everybody.
“Yup. Here I am,” Miya said, trying to sound bored instead of like he’d been thirty seconds from tears for some stupid reason.
“I haven’t forgotten what you did at Christmas, you know?” Cherry told him conversationally. Too casually.
“Finally going to yell at me about it?” Miya asked with a smirk, rolling his eyes slightly.
“Not exactly.” Cherry thrust a small box at him. It was unwrapped, but taped closed. “I got you something.”
Miya looked at the box in his hand nervously before giving Cherry a suspicious glance.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
He glanced around them. Joe was hovering nearby, watching, obviously being clued in on whatever was going on. None of the others seemed to be paying attention.
Carefully, Miya unstuck the tape and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled inside was a small circle made of dull, black metal.
“Is- is this what I think it is?” Miya asked, the words almost sticking in his throat.
“Try it on.”
Eagerly, Miya slipped the bracelet onto his wrist. It immediately lit up. Purple with thin bands of bright green.
“Hello, Miya. I am Carla-kun. Your personalized AI assistant,” a familiar chipper voice chimed from the bracelet.
Miya felt tears stinging his eyes as he looked up at the man next to him. “Carla-kun?” he questioned.
“She won’t have access to all the information my Carla has, such as my business information, but she will be able to communicate with the other Carla systems.”
“And… she’s really mine?”
“She missed you.”
“I enjoyed our conversations, Miya. I’m looking forward to conspiring with you more,” Carla-kun told him.
Miya gave out a watery laugh before throwing his arms around Cherry’s waist, hiding his tears. Cherry made a disgruntled noise before resting a gloved hand on the top of Miya’s hand.
The moment was interrupted by Langa’s voice as he said, “Hey, guys… I've been thinking…”
Miya looked up to see the Canadian dragging Reki towards them. The rest of the group was slowly converging towards Cherry and Miya as well.
“Valentine’s Day is in a couple of weeks,” Langa continued in excitement, glancing around the group at everybody. “We should have a party!”
“No,” Joe and Cherry said in unison.
“Fuck no,” Shadow added emphatically.
Snake glanced at Adam — who nodded almost imperceptibly — before politely saying, “I believe we will decline as well.”
“I think it sounds like a splendid idea!” Carla-kun chimed in cheerfully.
As one, the entire group groaned in resignation.
Miya just glanced around him, at the dumbasses he’d helped bring together, and simply smiled.
*************