Chapter Text
There was an unwritten, unvocal rule between Naoto and Takemichi. Revolving around the older’s case of waking-up-to-a-handshake-with-Naoto, neither would say a word about it, regardless when or where.
However, for the last decade, that supernatural phenomenon never happened again.
The sensation was something hard to forget. Even so, the memory was now closer to a phantom that occasionally dusted his palm. It was slipping, Naoto knew, how the sign when Takemichi of the future leapt was actually like.
The young adult did accidentally zap himself when he brushed a wet hand against the electricity socket (don’t ask how), but the feeling, he noted, wasn’t quite the same.
Typing away on his laptop, Naoto squinted and reached for his Mega Eyes Open. The mix of carbonated water was cool in his mouth. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced down to the time.
His phone began buzzing.
Yo, Naoto! You free?
He ignored the message.
Oiiiii.
Naooootooo.
I know that you saw the message!!!!!!
Oiiiiiiiiiii.
Chucking his phone away, the first son of the Tachibana family proceeded to organize the files surrounding Tokyo’s underbelly.
Hinata and Naoto loved Gramps. He was gentle, stern, the kind and funny sort of old man. He was there more often than Dad, and sharing tall tales in bursts of joy, their grandfather became a constant. One day, out of the blue, Gramps breathed his last.
That was the first funeral the Tachibana siblings truly understood. There was only one other ceremony they had visited at the time—a distant cousin’s passing—but they didn’t know the person enough to comprehend the weight of what occured.
When Gramps passed away, Mom and Hinata were in so much tears. Hinata tried to hold it back, but covering her face, all she could do was tremble at where she stood.
Naoto might have cried as well.
Tentatively, Naoto reached out his hand. Pads of his fingers making contact with Hinata’s door, a breath was drawn in before the youth mustered up the courage and pushed.
A one centimeter wide gap creaked open.
Dark. Hinata’s room was dark.
Naoto swallowed.
“... Sis?”
Lying on top of her covers, Hinata had an arm limp over her eyes. She lied there, quiet. Only when the younger looked carefully could Naoto see her chest moving with each shallow breath.
He tried again.
“Sis?”
Five seconds passed. Barely shifting, a small, weak hum was returned.
“Hot chocolate,” Naoto tried. “And french toast. Come out to eat?”
Another five seconds.
Stiffly, Hinata nodded.
Naoto pushed open the door a bit further.
They weren’t a pair of siblings where they would tell each other everything. Respecting each others’ privacy but still fighting from time to time, they bond by playing Smash Bros with aging Wii remotes.
For the entire month since Sano Emma’s death, his sister had been floating.
Naoto listened in on Dad’s conversation with Mom. He learned that it wasn’t just Emma: a whole gang fight broke out, resulting in three fatalities. Sano Emma was one of them. Perhaps it was a reminder—the teen recalled how Hinata yelled at Dad, what did you say to Takemichi?!
Delinquency. Gang fights. The way Takemichi clutched onto Naoto’s hands that night, bowing down and crying.
One of them… Dad murmured. If I recall, he was in the same cram school with Hinata, wasn’t he? During elementary school.
Mom pursed her lips.
That boy…?
Naoto wasn’t sure why he thought of Hinata’s strange and icky friend. He heard that that guy went to a private school for junior high, and since Hinata didn’t have a phone back then, it was hard to get back into contact. Since he just disappeared from their lives, Naoto forgot all about him.
But it was strange, very surreal. Emma, who received a stuffed bear for her birthday—from that Draken who was so cool—was gone. Like Gramps, she was gone.
Hinata was floating. Naoto could tell she wasn’t sleeping well.
Naoto pushed the soy sauce closer to his sister. Today’s lunch had a fried egg. It tasted better with the sauce. A dying beat later, Hinata took the vial. Obsidian liquid poured down, drip by drip.
They finished lunch.
Thank you for this meal.
A buzz. Phone open, tired eyes gazed down at the screen. There was a moment of silence before Hinata stood up and got her coat. She buttoned it up sluggishly.
“I’m going out for a bit,” Hinata simply stated. She offered a small smile. “Takemichi called.”
Due to lethargy, her voice wasn’t all that strong, but the look that said I’m okay was still feigned. Naoto watched as the older left. Door closed behind her, he snuck to the window and watched.
There was this other guy called Matsuno Chifuyu over there. He couldn’t see very clearly what was happening, but it seemed pretty... Grave. Gathered at the park, Naoto was eventually called down. He wasn’t sure why, but when he finally arrived, realization came as well.
First, Naoto sputtered. Because—well—
Okay.
“You’re getting married?!”
“N-Naoto!! Don’t say it out loud!!!” Eyes wide and impossibly animated (Naoto couldn’t imagine her being so, bright like this, considering everything that had happened and how sad Big Sis was—), Hinata immediately yelped. Clutched in her flustered hands was a gift, a ring. A freaking ring. Naoto gaped at these fifteen years olds, a torrent of thoughts (and, really, nothing at all) raking up a typhoon in his world.
Still.
WHAT?!
Takemichi was smiling. It was a simple one, something that felt content. The last time Naoto saw him was during that night, so this was a really big change.
He paused.
… Right. Takemichi was probably involved in that incident. Takemichi, Big Sis, that Chifuyu guy, and...
But then, just looking at them. Right now.
A few more bickers were exchanged. Chifuyu commented something about being surprised as well. As serene this was—Naoto… He wasn’t exactly sure. Something about this exchange...
As if reading his mind, Takemichi turned towards Naoto. His smile was still the same—if there were any signs of somber feelings, it was well hidden and masked away.
The blonde extended his hand.
“Since we had our first handshake here, at this park… Let’s have our last one here, too,” Takemichi’s smile widened. “Thank you for believing in me, Naoto. This moment wouldn’t exist without your help.”
Naoto stared at him.
There were two other people here. The younger was aware of that. The Chifuyu guy and Hinata.
...
“... So,” hesitantly, the younger pressed on. Even though he never once spoke about it to anyone, from July 4th, 2005, to today (March 16th, 2006), Naoto pressed on.
“Does this mean… Me and my sister, we’re both saved…?”
Chifuyu and Hinata didn’t say a word. They only listened, quiet and light. Understanding, Naoto realized. Knowing.
The look on Takemichi’s face was gentle.
He grinned.
“Yup!” Smile softening, Future Takemichi continued. “Definitely.
“So Naoto, let’s shake hands.”
A beat.
The zap that had been missing pierced through at last.
“Yo, Naoto,” Naoto looked over his shoulder. Spotting Takemichi and Hinata walking towards him, hands linked and side by side, he returned the greeting with a curt nod. Unlike the previous year, Takemichi’s hair was no longer fashioned in his stupid-looking faux hawk style.
Still blonde, though. Did he continue bleaching it?
"Leaving without us? Geez, so cold!!"
Naoto stuck out his tongue.
Bursting into a small chuckle, Hinata smirked. It was the look reserved for—oh no.
“Race you guys back home!! I’m taking your popsicle, Naoto!”
“Huh?” Takemichi blinked. “Hina—?”
“HEY!! I WAS SAVING THAT!! ”
Time moved surprisingly fast. He thought it would slow down, considering that Takemichi’s power could no longer be investigated, but it seemed like that had nothing to do with the natural flow of time. Looking through the law books, seventeen year old Naoto narrowed his eyes. Some of the regulations were really idiotic. For them to be instilled…
He sighed and tossed the book aside. Takemichi, for who knew what reason, went and picked it up. Blue eyes took one look at the text before the high school senior quickly put the tome back where he found it—the carpetless ground.
“Takemichi! Come back and finish your calculus!” Hinata called. Head poking out from the gap of Naoto’s door, peach colored hair was now flowing down her shoulders.
“Ahh… A small break? Please?”
Hinata pouted. “Takemichi…”
Without turning away from his workbook, Naoto kicked the back of Takemichi’s knees. The blonde immediately tumbled down, caught off guard and sputtering.
“What the hell, Naoto!”
“I want my privacy back. Stop courting each other in my room.”
“We—” Takemichi dragged his hands down his face. “Actually, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Have fun studying.”
“Have fun flirting.”
Things were relatively normal. Since that day, Future Takemichi never returned. Ultimately, that meant he succeeded—the future was finally right.
That, or it was the delay of the inevitable. He didn’t bother to entertain the idea, however.
Christmas arrived. An exchange of greetings later, Hinata and Takemichi left for their annual date. Mom would smirk at Dad whenever Sis’ boyfriend, his pudding head popping up from the door, arrived—no regrets of letting them stay together, right?
Dad’s face would get all pinched up. It was fun messing around with him, that uptight old man. Standing up, Naoto reached for the drumstick. The fried chicken was good.
2009 passed. 2010… 2011.
One night, Hinata returned home.
“Naoto,” she choked, falling onto her knees. Eyes blown wide, Naoto was caught off guard. He was already delirious having not slept for a few days, but—
“Takemichi, he’s—he’s not just going to disappear, right?”
“... I... I know almost nothing,” Naoto admitted, “about his ability.”
Holding back sobs, Hinata nodded. She closed her eyes, tilted her head down.
Sobbed again.
They watched a movie to distract themselves. Neither siblings paid attention to the screen.
It was 2012’s winter when Takemichi invited himself to Naoto’s place. It was a small apartment, something humble and affordable. The youngest Tachibana decided to move out early—a personal decision.
The older had grimaced. Glaring down at the various brands of energy drinks stocked in Naoto’s kitchen, he closed the fridge before giving Naoto a pointed glance.
Naoto rolled his eyes at that, but that might have been a mistake because—
Feet sliding, his stomach made a flip before his phone made a flip into the air, bulleting into the wall beside him before ricocheting down to the bath.
A jarring SPLASH sounded.
Plastic and metal pieces lay around Naoto’s feet. Takemichi stared bug eyed at the younger.
“... Buy me a new one,” Naoto began.
“Hey,” Takemichi quickly replied. “It ain’t my fault.”
“Aren’t you supposed to treat your girlfriend’s younger brother better? Fine, whatever. I’ll pay you back later.”
“Bro, that has nothing to do with anything. Why am I the one running errands for you?”
“Shush up, take the money, and don’t tell anyone that this happened.”
“Haha, very funny. Which, remind me,” blue eyes squinted, “how on earth are you making all this money?”
“Unlike a certain someone ,” Naoto crossed his arms. “I know how to not get into the red zone.”
Takemichi blanched.
Naoto smirked.
Unlike their high school years, there seemed to be a weight that lifted. A helium balloon, almost, that was floating farther and farther away… Somewhere distant.
There was still a string attached, though. The thin thread roped around Takemichi’s palm. The string was tight enough that trying to unravel it would be...
Pointless.
There was still that unwritten rule between them. During these kinds of days, Naoto wanted to breach that code himself. But despite the kind of person Naoto was, he was actually indecisive.
Five, he counted, six more years.
Turning away, Naoto began to reach down to reach his broken cell. Before his bare hand touched the water, however, Takemichi somehow got right by his side. He got there, and roughly pulled back Naoto’s arm.
The look within gray blue eyes was stern.
Unlike a year ago, it wasn’t a cloudy gray. Naoto saw. Takemichi’s eyes were… Clear.
A beat later, the older swallowed. Nervously.
“... Uh. Is it safe to just directly grab electronics from… Y’know,” he shrugged towards the bath.
...
“Ah.”
Naoto pondered for a moment.
“Actually, I have no idea.”
Takemichi’s grip on Naoto’s hand loosened, but he didn’t let go.
“You have rubber gloves?”
Naoto hummed.
“Probably.”
“‘Kay, go get them.”
The broken cell phone was retrieved.
July 1st, 2017, was arriving in quick steps. He had written the date in that old notepad, but the numbers were burned in mind. Taking a week off, Naoto went to find his sister. He took all the precautions he could think of—kept a lookout on everything and everyone. When he arrived at Hinata’s place, Takemichi was already there. The couple was chatting with bright smiles on their faces.
Naoto was going to close the door before Takemichi quickly pulled him in. His hair for some time now was fully black—his natural hair color.
“Oi,” Takemichi squinted, “you seriously gonna just dip like that? At least say hello! Geez, you’re so cold, man!”
“Shut up,” Naoto elbowed him away. Hinata chuckled and poured a cup of tea.
July 1st ended. Three days later, July 4th, Naoto stuck with Takemichi as the older man raised his eyebrow. No one pushed Takemichi off the station platform. Good.
With that, another week passed. A week, a month…
It was easy to forget, actually. Twelve years were that long—and in the face of life and other priorities, the notion that it had been twelve years might have completely slipped.
Rather, there would be times when Naoto jolted, abruptly remembering the supernatural power that circled around Takemichi like a rope to his hand, but as quickly as the thought would come, it fled away as the family ate and drank.
Soon-to-be-family. Takemichi chugged down some beer as Naoto grimaced at the taste.
The young detective decided that he’d only drink for pleasantries. The wine from Sendou Atsushi’s wedding was already pretty bad. Who in their right mind would enjoy this kind of stuff?
Says the person who has energy drinks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Takemichi once chided back. They often bickered like that. Normal, everyday thing. Naoto enjoyed the night breeze.
When that phone call came, he was unsuspecting.
They were well into their mid-twenties when it happened. Takemichi, the name flashed, and the young detective picked up the call. He was on his way back home, the summer night cool.
“Naoto?” Came the older’s voice. Naoto hummed in response.
The next line was like a bucket of ice, falling straight down above Naoto’s head:
“You know about the time leaps, right?”
His heart stopped.
Then it continued, the muscle thudding in his ribcage.
“... Yeah,” mouth dry, Naoto replied. “I theorized.”
Takemichi’s voice was calm as he spoke. He talked as if discussing the weather, like their unwritten rule and promise never existed. No… It never did. Like the stupid rules Naoto read bout in that law book, this was…
The younger of the two lowered his head. Above him, the street lights flickered, blinking.
“Mm,” because of the device, Takemichi’s voice sounded different. “You were my trigger, and my future-self leapt by shaking your hand. Future you and I worked together to fix the future.”
“... I didn’t know that,” Naoto didn’t know that his own future-self was an accomplice of Future Takemichi. “But that sounds about right.”
It was odd hearing his theories becoming true.
“Yeah,” Takemichi replied. “But from the way Chifuyu put it, it seems like your future-self retains your memories, regardless of which future it is.”
Retaining… Memories.
“Is it the same with you?” The words came out a lot more confident than what Naoto expected. He waited anxiously for Takemichi’s answer.
“... Probably not.”
Ah.
“Oh.”
The line went silent again. Tired eyes suddenly found the pebble on the concrete sidewalk interesting. Distantly, he recalled Hinata—they had a similar conversation before. During some year’s Christmas…
He’s not just going to disappear , right?
“Naoto, I have a favor. Even though Hina is safe, you still became an officer.”
“... Yeah.”
Takemichi’s tone turned more serious.
“Once the future-me returns and you regain your memories, if this is the future that you two were looking for, keep the future-me from doing anything stupid and get himself hurt.
“Don’t tell him that I know, too. He doesn’t need to think about that. Just make sure that he’ll be happy.”
A pause.
“Sorry for asking you for such a favor.”
Naoto, nearly, raised his hand to his lips. He forced the urge away. Shaking his head, he gave his answer.
“Yeah,” came the quiet, understanding response. “It’s okay. Of course.”
The detective could hear Takemichi smiling.
“Thank you, Naoto.”
Family and friends, by extension, were invited to Hayashida Haruki’s wedding. Because Takemichi was close friends with the groom, Hinata was brought along. Since Naoto was Hinata’s younger sibling, naturally, he prepared a suit as well.
It was a busy week. Naoto watched as Takemichi and Hinata laughed, poking at each other as Chifuyu hooked his arm around Takemichi’s shoulder. More people gathered. Naoto watched. Their hands, as always, were linked.
When the wedding day arrived, it was only mere minutes before the reception began that Naoto felt it.
Something akin to electricity struck. Right hand tensing up with this searing pain, eyes were blown wide as his knees buckled.
Almost, he couldn’t breathe. A torrent of images washed through him, memories and feelings alike—
It burned. Scalding. Suffocating.
You are my pride.
He gasped.
Heart thudding, the young adult tried to catch his breath. Eyes closed, he had his left hand grab his right wrist.
It hurt. Phantoms of a bullet wound ached at his abdomen.
It hurt.
Each and every one of Hinata’s death.
Lifetimes’ worth of information—seeking out informants, allies.
The heavy weight of a pistol, concern and frantic haste as he pulled the trigger—
But not strangely. Not out of place.
It felt normal.
Natural.
…
Putting strength into his legs, Naoto walked.
The soles of his shoes rubbed against carpet ground. Walking past other guests, he found his seat—sat down.
Waited.
When the wedding cake was finally cut, he got back up.
Walked.
“Takemichi.”
The time traveler looked back—
“The day has finally come, I knew you could make it.”
He smiled.
Takemichi stared. He stared, and then—
A weight crashed into Naoto.
“NAOTO!!! ” Takemichi of the future cried out, arms wrapped tightly around Naoto’s shoulders and voice so, so—
Glad.
Naoto nearly teared up.
“YOU’RE ALIVE!!!”
Before Hayashida’s wedding but some time after that phone call, Naoto opened the glass door to the CD rental store. Wrapping up his umbrella, he walked in and crossed some aisles.
“Tell me. What exactly do you see in my sister?”
Blue eyes blinked.
Keeping his gaze on the rows of CDs, Naoto waited for his response.
“... Well. At the beginning of our relationship, we hung out a lot. Then… One time, she told me: I’m sure you’ll succeed.”
Rain pelted the ground. Pausing for a moment, a grin formed.
“She probably didn’t know how much those words meant to me, at the time. Or, maybe she did. Hina’s amazing that way. We hung out more afterwards… From then on, I just love her.”
… Succeed, huh.
The CD store Takemichi was managing was small and humble. Before this store, it was a collection of various part time jobs.
“Heck,” Takemichi continued. The old clover necklace around his neck dangled. “I even managed to get a high school diploma thanks to your sister! I never thought I’d get this far, realistically speaking.
“So don’t worry.”
Naoto froze.
Eyes meeting, the younger was met with the other’s somber yet relaxed gaze. A small smile reached Takemichi’s lips.
“I’m content with where I am, Naoto. But… If there’s just one more thing.”
Reaching out, he tapped the younger’s shoulder.
“Sorry for leaving you behind.”
In a brand new world where the timelines morphed, the could-have-beens vanished permanently like they never existed to begin with. Alternate futures were void the moment Takemichi changed the course of fate. Versions of their beloved, many of them. Futures where they never existed, worlds where they were different. Naoto replayed the memories in his mind: what he presumed to be the original timeline—where he himself died as well—could probably never be touched. Naoto held no recollection of what he was (could have been) had he never met Takemichi on July 4th, 2005.
The only memento from that timeline was Hanagaki Takemichi himself. He was the only one who could stay constant—which ultimately meant that his alternate self and only him, like everyone else in other timelines, would cease to exist.
… Scary, really, how everything would change at the shake of two people’s hands.
Naoto retained his memories. Surprisingly, he wasn’t overwhelmed. This happened multiple times already, he recalled.
Days passed since Hayashida’s wedding. In three months, Takemichi was going to become his brother-in-law. Recalling that comedic yet emotional day Takemichi proposed to Hinata again, but this time both in their mid-twenties...
… Ah.
In some way, maybe.
Maybe, Naoto was… He trying to see any signs of him , the Takemichi who couldn’t be, within Takemichi.
Guilt.
Perhaps there was guilt.
Something in him twisted.
The twelves years of him—
Twelve years worth of everything.
The price for this world.
“I want to return to the past.”
Once the future-me returns and you regain your memories, if this is the future that you two were looking for, keep the future-me from doing anything stupid and get himself hurt.
“I want to meet Mikey in the past.”
Don’t tell him that I know, too. He doesn’t need to think about that.
“I want to know what his true intentions are.”
(At this rate, if he leapt any more—)
Just make sure that he’ll be happy.
(He’d be completely destroyed, wouldn’t he?)
It was in a heat of desperation.
“Please get a hold of yourself!! ” Clutching the other’s shoulders, Naoto found himself yelling.
Takemichi wasn’t looking him in the eyes. Naoto couldn’t stop—
“You already saved my sister, the goal has been achieved!! You just met Sano Manjiro along the way! Who cares about what happened to him! Please, just—Takemichi, please continue living in this future!! ”
Lifetimes worth of memories flashed in the back of Naoto’s head.
The screams when his friend, Sendou Atsushi jumped—the time when Takemichi became the perpetrator who sent Atsushi and Hinata to their deaths—
The time when Naoto was the one who pulled the trigger, terrified (Takemichi can’t die. He can’t let Takemichi die) —
The time when they died.
Dying is really scary huh?
“Naoto,” Takemichi’s voice was small. Tears held back, blue eyes continued to glare at the ground.
“I wouldn’t be here… If it weren’t for Mikey.”
His hand… Was shaking.
The same words were repeated, from the earliest time leaps.
“Please. I’ll come back as soon as possible.”
…
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry, Takemichi.
“Alright,” Naoto’s shoulders slacked. “But… Please. Come back as soon as possible, okay?”
Blue eyes looked up. The moment their eyes met, Naoto could only wonder—
“Thank you, Naoto.”
What did you even go through, just with that last time leap?
The afternoon light hit the streets. Naoto laughed, weakly.
“... I can’t win against you.”
When their hands connected and like that night, twelve years ago, the zap never sparked, relief came crashing in.
Naoto admitted. Seeing how upset Takemichi was over this.... To be so relieved—it was a guilty feeling.
But at the very least, the naïve thought came, Takemichi would be safe.
(But for the last dozen of years, a voice hauntingly asked, weren’t you chasing after that sensation, like some sort of gross obsession? )
The electricity socket. The phone. Pressing the nail of his thumb against closed lips, Naoto lowered his head.
(How can you say the same for him? The one doing the leaps in the first place?)
(Why else did you still keep tabs on Bonten, nevertheless giving that information to him?)
“Takemichi has been up in the clouds,” Hinata mused. Tying her hair back, the band made a snap before getting snug in place.
Naoto blinked slowly.
“Up in the clouds?”
“Mmhm,” she sighed. “I do get him, though. Emma and Mikey, those two… They did so much for us. Takemichi just came back as well. It’s like they hadn’t left that long for him, right?”
That was true.
“Admittedly, though. I am worried,” fingers knitted together, a small, sad smile came to be. “We had over a decade to grieve and come to peace.
“But what about Takemichi?”
A while ago, when he was still in high school, Naoto had a thought. Maybe this was just the delaying of the inevitable. Maybe… It was truly all for naught.
Because Naoto was a detective: amongst everyone in this circle, he was the first to know.
So ironically, it felt as if time really stopped.
Three bullets, the report said.
Held loosely within Hinata’s hand: a broken necklace.
There was—
He had grinned under the expected rain.
Sorry for leaving you behind.
Knees hitting the ground, something burned in his lungs.
Naoto—
Cried.