Chapter Text
The meeting had finally come to an end.
The large hall, once filled with overlapping voices, sharp glares, and the heavy tension of clashing egos, slowly emptied as players began filing out in groups. The atmosphere was still buzzing from the announcement of the upcoming gates and the arrival of the foreign hunters.
As everyone was dismissed, Yoichi had barely managed to take two steps before Ego’s words echoed in his mind again.
His first gate. This week.
A real test.
His stomach twisted.
Excitement, Dread, Curiosity?
He couldn’t quite tell which feeling was winning.
For now, however, they had been ordered to familiarise themselves with the foreign hunters staying on the fifteenth floor.
Just thinking about it already sounded exhausting.
“Hey, babe,” Shidou drawled, shamelessly slinging an arm over Yoichi’s shoulders as they walked down the long corridor, “my shoulder comfy or what?~”
Yoichi gave him a sideways look, expression dry.
“Comfortable?” he scoffed. “It feels more like someone strapped a jagged rock to my neck.”
Shidou barked out a loud laugh, delighted rather than offended.
“Oho? Sassy today, Yoichi.”
He grinned wider, sharp canine teeth showing as he leaned closer.
Before Yoichi could shove him off, Shidou suddenly twisted around to look at Rin walking just behind them.
“I bet Rinrins shoulder would be way softer. Probably like a luxury pillow—”
The sentence never got to finish.
Rin’s hand shot out like lightning, fingers locking around Shidou’s wrist with enough force to make the taller boy hiss.
His turquoise eyes were ice-cold.
“Shut up.”
The glare he gave him was lethal enough to freeze the hallway.
Shidou only laughed harder.
“Aw, you do care.”
Rin released him with visible disgust, brushing imaginary dirt off his hand afterward.
Yoichi snorted.
Somehow, these two managed to be exhausting in entirely opposite ways.
Shidou flashed him a wink as if nothing had happened.
Yoichi just rolled his eyes before glancing over at Bachira, who was practically bouncing beside him with his usual restless energy.
“Are all the foreign players staying on floor fifteen?” Yoichi asked.
Bachira blinked at him, then burst into a cheeky grin.
“Just the hunters, silly! Not the masters!”
He tilted his head, laughing.
“You’d know that if you weren’t mostly asleep during the meeting.”
Yoichi clicked his tongue.
“Not my fault the speech lasted long enough to age me three years.”
Bachira laughed harder, nudging his shoulder.
Behind them, Chigiri raised an eyebrow, crimson hair swaying as he walked.
“When did you two get this close?”
“Just now!” Bachira chirped.
Yoichi smirked.
“Apparently surviving one boring meeting together is enough to form lifelong bonds.”
Chigiri let out a soft, amused breath that almost counted as a laugh.
The group eventually reached the elevator.
Even though it was one of the wider ones in the building, squeezing all of them inside still felt cramped.
Shidou took up far too much space on purpose.
Rin looked seconds away from murder.
Bachira was humming to himself.
Chigiri leaned against the wall with calm patience.
Kunigami stood almost threateningly beside Chigiri.
Yoichi stood in the middle of it all, arms folded, already regretting every life choice that had led him here.
The elevator doors slid shut.
The ride up was quiet for exactly three seconds.
Then Chigiri lifted the small translation device into his ear.
“Pretty useful, right?”
Yoichi looked down at the sleek device in his own hand.
It was surprisingly lightweight, like a tiny black airpod.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Way better than awkward hand gestures.”
Chigiri glanced at him.
“Reo’s family made these.”
Yoichi blinked.
“…Wait.”
He turned, genuinely confused.
“Is Reo rich or something?”
The silence in the elevator was immediate.
Every head turned toward him.
Bachira stared.
Shidou nearly choked laughing.
Even Rin looked mildly offended by the question.
Chigiri sighed.
“Yoichi.”
“What?”
“He’s not just rich.”
Chigiri paused, as if trying to find words strong enough.
“His father practically funds this entire building.”
Yoichi stared.
Then stared harder.
“…Oh.”
Another beat.
“So rich rich.”
“Very rich rich,” Chigiri deadpanned.
Yoichi let out a low whistle.
“No wonder he acts like he owns the oxygen in every room.”
That actually got a small laugh out of Chigiri.
ᯓ
When they finally reached the fifteenth floor, they were the first group to arrive.
The corridor was quieter here, polished floors gleaming beneath the overhead lights.
Bachira suddenly spun around dramatically.
“Yoichiii!”
His eyes sparkled.
“Can you make that sushi again?”
He clasped his hands together.
“It was soooo good!”
Shidou immediately nodded.
“Made me want to kiss you~”
Even Chigiri gave a small, approving nod.
Yoichi raised a brow.
“Did I accidentally become everyone’s personal chef?”
“You’re good at it,” Chigiri said simply.
Yoichi sighed, though there was amusement in it.
“Maybe.”
He glanced toward the common kitchen area.
“I could probably make something for the foreign hunters too.”
Bachira lit up.
“Ooooh! Really?”
Yoichi shrugged.
“Although I only know a few recipes.”
Bachira tilted his head curiously.
“Where’d you learn?”
The question made Yoichi pause.
For just a second.
Then he smiled.
“My Mom taught me.”
His voice softened.
“She was a great cook.”
For the first time that evening, his usual sharpness faded.
“She made the best desserts.” He smiled fondly, looking back at those memories in his head.
Bachira’s smile widened.
“Then she has to teach me sometime!” He grinned, “I want to learn how to make the sweetest treats!!”
The hallway went still.
Yoichi’s expression didn’t change.
His voice came out flat.
“She passed away a few years ago.”
Silence.
The kind that lands heavy.
Bachira froze.
Shidou’s grin disappeared.
Even Rin, who had just stepped out of the elevator, glanced over.
Bachira’s face fell instantly.
“Oh.”
His voice was small.
“I’m sorry, Yoichi.”
Before Yoichi could respond, Bachira threw his arms around him in a tight hug.
Yoichi let out a startled sound.
“Oi—”
But then he sighed.
“It’s fine.”
His smile returned, smaller this time.
“It happened ages ago.”
The words were light.
Too light.
And for a moment—
the memories came rushing back.
ᯓ
(Seven years ago.)
The apartment smelled warm.
Freshly baked bread.
Vanilla.
And the faint floral perfume his mother always wore.
“Yocchan,” his mother said gently, crouching down to his height.
Her smile was bright enough to fill the room.
“Me and your father are going on another work trip.”
Ten-year-old Yoichi looked up at her with wide eyes.
“You’ll be staying with auntie again.”
She brushed his hair back lovingly.
“Be a good boy for her, alright? My sweet Yocchan.”
He nodded eagerly.
“Okay!”
His grin was huge.
“Have fun, Mama! I’ll be waiting!”
His father ruffled his hair with a warm chuckle.
“There’s the spirit.”
Yoichi stood by the door, waving both arms as they left.
He remembered how proud he felt.
How excited.
His parents were amazing.
That’s what he believed.
Later that evening, seated at his auntie’s table, Yoichi swung his legs beneath the chair as he ate.
“Auntie?”
She looked up from serving rice.
“Yes, darling?”
“What do Mama and Dad do exactly?”
She smiled sadly, though he was too young to notice.
“They’re hunters.”
Yoichi’s eyes widened.
“Hunters?”
“They protect people.”
Her voice was soft.
“Your mother is D-rank. Your father is C-rank.”
To Yoichi, that only made them sound stronger.
Cooler.
Like superheroes.
He smiled so brightly his cheeks hurt.
ᯓ
(One week later.)
The knock on the door came early.
Too early.
Yoichi still remembered the sound.
Three sharp knocks.
His auntie answered.
And everything changed.
A police officer stood there.
Hat lowered.
Expression grave.
“I’m sorry.”
Those words, even now, they still echoed.
“They didn’t make it.”
His auntie gasped.
No.
More than a gasp.
It was the sound of a heart breaking.
“They both passed early this morning.”
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“No…”
Tears spilled immediately.
“No, please…”
Her voice cracked.
“You’re lying.”
She began to sob.
“They can’t be gone—”
Yoichi stood by the hallway, confused and scared.
“Auntie?”
He tugged on her sleeve.
“What’s wrong?”
The officer looked down at him.
His expression softened.
Then he bowed his head.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
And then he left.
The door shut.
His auntie collapsed into tears.
Yoichi stood frozen.
His small hands clenched into fists.
No.
That wasn’t possible.
Heroes didn’t die.
Superheroes always came back.
Always.
“…they can’t…”
His voice trembled.
“They can’t be gone…”
But they were.
And from that day on—Yoichi hated hunters.
Or maybe not them.
Maybe what they represented.
Loss.
Death.
The cruel reminder that even heroes could disappear.
ᯓ
(Four years later.)
“Happy birthday, Yocchan!”
His auntie smiled warmly.
“You’re fourteen already.”
She sighed dramatically.
“Where did the time go?”
Yoichi laughed softly.
She had been everything.
Guardian.
Family.
Home.
“Thank you, auntie.”
In the middle of the room sat a large box tied with an oversized ribbon.
Yoichi blinked.
“That’s suspiciously huge.”
His auntie only smiled.
“Open it.”
He knelt onto the plush carpet and carefully tugged at the ribbon.
Something moved inside.
He froze.
“…Wait.”
His brows furrowed.
“Is this alive?”
He tore the lid open.
And then—
golden eyes met his.
A tiny, fluffy kitten stared up at him from inside the box.
Its fur was soft and pale, ears twitching as it let out a tiny meow.
Yoichi gasped.
For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.
“You…”
His voice cracked.
“You got me a kitten?”
His eyes snapped toward his auntie.
She nodded, smiling through misty eyes.
“You’ve been lonely.”
That was all it took.
Yoichi threw his arms around her, “Thank you!”
The kitten climbed clumsily out of the box and into his lap, tiny, warm, alive.
A small piece of comfort.
“A name?” his auntie asked.
Yoichi looked down at the kitten, who was pawing curiously at the ribbon.
A smile slowly spread across his face.
“Puz.”
His auntie blinked.
“Puz?”
He nodded.
“Like puzzles.”
His favourite thing.
Something he could solve.
Unlike grief.
Unlike loss.
Unlike the ache that still lived in his chest.
And from that day on, Puz became his little shadow.