Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The back of the bookstore is packed.

“Perhaps we should have arrived earlier,” Jakurai says, as he observes the line winding around the room. “Although I do feel a little guilty that they let us in without tickets.”

“What’s the point of being famous if we can’t get in places for free?” Ramuda replies, as they join the end of the line. The young woman in front of them glances back as she hears them talking, her eyes widening ever so slightly, and Ramuda waves at her.

She looks away quickly, her face flushed red.

“Maybe I should set up a line for autographs too,” Ramuda muses. A few other people seem to have caught sight of them too – Ramuda blames Jakurai’s ridiculous height – but no one’s tried taking pictures yet.

“I doubt Yumeno-sensei would appreciate it if you took over his book signing,” Jakurai says dryly, but he plasters a smile on his face as more people turn to look at them.

“I don’t know,” Ramuda replies, considering it. “He might think it’s funny.”

“Well,” Jakurai says, “I’d prefer not to risk it.”

“You’re no fun,” Ramuda huffs, but he keeps his tone light.

Before Jakurai can try to protest, though, the door to the back room opens, and one of the bookstore employees emerges, Yumeno Gentarō following a step behind her. She leads him up to the front of the room, and then turns to the crowd to announce, “Thank you everyone for waiting so patiently. It is my pleasure to introduce Yumeno Gentarō, author of Snow Country and current Mystery Writers of Japan award nominee.”

She steps aside, letting Gentarō take center stage, and he bows politely.

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting such a turnout,” Gentarō says, as he looks out over the room. His eyes catch on Ramuda and Jakurai for a moment, but there’s no obvious change in his expression. “When I first decided to try my hand at writing a mystery novel, I wasn’t sure how well I would be able to adapt my writing to a new genre, and it’s a relief to receive such a warm reception. Thank you so much for supporting me and my work by coming out today.”

Gentarō smiles charmingly at his fans, and Ramuda watches on with mild interest. He’s never actually seen Gentarō in work mode before, and it’s a little strange to see him act so professionally, instead of leading everyone around in circles with strange stories.

The signing starts shortly after. Ramuda and Jakurai are at the very end of the line, mainly because they snuck in without tickets. It works in their favor, though, because this way there won’t be anyone waiting behind them, and they’ll have more time to talk with Gentarō.

“You know, we still haven’t gotten a chance to talk about the book,” Jakurai says, breaking Ramuda from his thoughts. “How did you like it?”

“It was pretty good,” Ramuda replies absently, watching as Gentarō smiles at a fan. “I think I like the mystery in Lost Constellation better, though.”

“Lost Constellation?” Jakurai repeats, and Ramuda opens his mouth to reply, but then he stops himself.

Gentarō hasn’t written that one yet.

“Maybe I’m getting the titles mixed up,” Ramuda says, screwing his face up into a confused expression. “Did you like the book?”

“I enjoyed it,” Jakurai answers. They move a step forward as the line advances, the first fan through with their signing, and Ramuda wonders how long this is going to take. Probably an hour at least. “I read a lot of mysteries, so I was concerned it would be too similar to things I’ve already read, but I like the way Yumeno-sensei utilized the unreliable narrator.”

“He’s good at that,” Ramuda agrees, still peering around the people in front of them to watch Gentarō. “I definitely thought it was the grandfather who did it until the end.”

Well, he had the first time around. On the second read through, all of the clues leading to the brother had been much more obvious.

“I was fairly sure it couldn’t be the grandfather, because of the footprints in the snow,” Jakurai says, and Ramuda finally looks away from Gentarō and back at Jakurai. “Although I hadn’t seriously considered the brother until the notebook went missing from Koto’s room.”

“You already had it figured out by then?” Ramuda huffs, puffing up his cheeks in a pout.

“I didn’t say that,” Jakurai replies, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smile. “I wasn’t certain until the last few chapters.”

“How are you so smart?” Ramuda complains. “Next time we’re not reading a mystery.”

“Next time?” Jakurai repeats, blinking down at Ramuda. It makes Ramuda realize what he’d accidentally implied, and he pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond.

He doesn’t hate talking about books with Jakurai, actually. Maybe it’s just because it’s Gentarō’s book they’re talking about, or maybe it’s because this is their first real conversation about it, but it’s not bad to watch the way Jakurai’s face lights up, or listen to the enthusiasm in his voice.

It’s kind of like letting Dice teach him the rules of blackjack, or listening to Gentarō tell a story that probably only has about five percent truth to it.

“I let you choose the book this time so it’s only fair that I get to make you read something that I want to read now,” Ramuda huffs. He hopes that he didn’t hesitate for too long, but something about the fond way that Jakurai’s looking at him tells him that he did.

Also, he’s going to have to come up with a book now. Maybe Gentarō will have some recommendations.

The line progresses slowly, but it doesn’t feel as slow as it probably is. Jakurai prattles on about the book, and Ramuda contributes enough to keep the conversation going, and by the time they reach the front of the line, Ramuda’s almost forgotten why they’d come here in the first place.

“My, my,” Gentarō says, as they stand in front of him. “Am I correct in assuming that I should address these books to Amemura Ramuda and Jinguji Jakurai? Or would you prefer Easy R and Ill Doc?”

“Ramuda-chan is fine!” Ramuda chirps as he holds out his book, his cutest smile on his face.

“Katakana?” Gentarō asks, opening the book to the title page.

“Hmm,” Ramuda hums, considering. “English!”

“I’m afraid I can’t write English,” Gentarō laments, bringing a hand up to rest against his cheek. “Will traditional characters suffice?”

Ramuda knows for a fact that Gentarō is perfectly proficient in the English alphabet, but he makes his eyes go wide with fake surprise as he says, “You can write traditional characters?”

“It was what we learned, back when I was in school,” Gentarō replies, writing clean, precise strokes against the title page of Ramuda’s book.

Ramuda can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and he tries to ignore the giddy feeling in his chest as he screws his face up in mock confusion and says, “Really? I thought you were around the same age as me.”

“I look much younger than I am,” Gentarō assures him, finishing his signature and handing the book back to Ramuda. He smiles in a way that doesn’t quite manage to hide the slyness underneath, and Ramuda decides that if kitsune actually exist, Gentarō is definitely one of them.

Part of Ramuda wants to fling himself over the table and hug Gentarō.

Instead, he just accepts the book.

“Hey, Jakurai, what’s it say?” Ramuda asks, pressing himself up against Jakurai’s side and showing him the note. “Is it really my name?”

“Ramuda-kun, I can only read a few traditional characters,” Jakurai says, an awkward smile on his face.

“Really? But you can do everything,” Ramuda protests, peering up at Jakurai as he wraps himself around Jakurai’s arm. “You even figured out who the culprit was before the end of the story.”

“Did you now?” Gentarō asks, accepting Jakurai’s book next.

“Not until chapter eight,” Jakurai says, a little awkwardly. “I’m just used to reading mystery novels.”

“I see I’m still no match for a genius like you,” Gentarō says with a fake sigh. On the title page of Jakurai’s book, he adds, to detective Jinguji Jakurai, and Ramuda sees Jakurai’s face go a little pink.

“Well, I’m still looking forward to your next book,” Jakurai replies, accepting his book back from Gentarō. “I really do enjoy your writing style, especially in combination with the mystery genre.”

“So you’re telling me to do better next time?” Gentarō asks, giving Jakurai a look. Ramuda knows Gentarō’s expressions well enough to tell that he’s just messing with Jakurai, and he has to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he watches Jakurai flounder.

“I didn’t mean to imply – ” Jakurai starts.

“I know,” Gentarō replies, an amused smile on his face.

“I want a sci-fi novel next!” Ramuda announces, before Jakurai can try apologizing again. “With spaceships and stuff!”

“Hmm,” Gentarō says, pretending to consider the request. “Unfortunately I’ve already received a request for another mystery novel, so I’ll have to schedule you in at a later date.”

“I’ll buy you lunch?” Ramuda offers, looking up at Gentarō with his cutest expression. “We’re the last ones in line, so you’re free now, right?”

Gentarō blinks at him for a moment, looking caught off guard, but then recomposes himself and says, “I’m afraid I have a meeting with my editor after this.”

“Really?” Ramuda asks, scrunching his face up in confusion. “But I talked to your editor and he said your afternoon schedule was clear.”

It’s a lie, of course. But he’s pretty sure Gentarō’s lying too, so it’s just a matter of which one of them will fold first.

“I see,” Gentarō says, and he’s smiling, but Ramuda can tell that Gentarō’s studying him carefully. “I must have gotten the time wrong.”

“So you’ll join us, then?” Jakurai asks, with helpful timing.

Gentarō pauses, ever so briefly. There are no other fans in line for autographs, though, and the few fans who have stuck around in the hopes of talking to Gentarō more aren’t brave enough to try to interrupt two TDD members. So, Gentarō says, “Alright, but I’ll need a few minutes to wrap things up here.”

“Great!” Ramuda chirps.

It takes a little bit for Gentarō to talk with the few lingering fans, and then finish up with the bookstore employees, but it’s not long until the three of them are sitting at a table in a high-end traditional style restaurant, not far from the bookstore.

“You didn’t need to go this far on my account,” Gentarō says, looking around the private room. The lighting is low and the décor is tastefully minimalist, a suitable match for Gentarō and Jakurai’s formal clothes, although Ramuda’s multicolored sweatshirt sticks out like a sore thumb.

“But I don’t want people interrupting us,” Ramuda replies, pouting slightly.

“It’s really no trouble,” Jakurai says, smiling politely. “It’s as much for our sake as for yours.”

“We’ve gotten really popular lately,” Ramuda chirps, sprawling out against the tatami. Gentarō retains perfect seating posture. “Last time Jakurai and I went out, we got asked for photographs five times.” His grin widens, and he adds, “And I got five new phone numbers!”

Jakurai sighs, but doesn’t actually say anything. Gentarō just looks amused.

“Well, in that case,” Gentarō says, picking up the menu, “what do you recommend?”

Ramuda hasn’t actually come here in this timeline yet, but thankfully the menu hasn’t changed much. He points out a few things that future Gentarō had ordered, the last time they’d come here, and then leans over into Jakurai’s personal space to discuss the rest of the menu.

Jakurai lets him, like he always does. Ramuda tries to ignore how aware he’s become of Jakurai recently – Jakurai’s thigh pressed up against his, Jakurai’s hair brushing his shoulder – but he isn’t particularly successful.

If Gentarō thinks their proximity is strange, his expression doesn’t show it.

Once they’ve ordered, Ramuda leans forward, propping his elbows up on the table, and says, “So, Gentarō – ”

“Ramuda-kun,” Jakurai interrupts, giving Ramuda a disapproving look. “Please address Yumeno-sensei correctly.”

Ramuda opens his mouth to complain, but before he can, Gentarō says, “It’s fine.” He smiles, and adds, “As long as I can call you Ramuda.”

Ramuda gives Jakurai a triumphant look.

“So, Gentarō,” Ramuda starts again. “Have you ever tried rapping?”

“I have not,” Gentarō answers, looking a little caught off guard.

“Really?” Ramuda asks, fake surprise in his voice. He can feel Jakurai glance at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. “You should try! I’m sure I could get you a mic.”

“I’m not sure I’m particularly suited to rapping,” Gentarō replies demurely.

It’s a little strange to hear Gentarō talk like this, careful and polite. It’s probably how he talks to people he has to interact with for work, Ramuda thinks idly, as he observes the neutral expression on Gentarō’s face. And despite receiving permission to call him without an honorific, even that seems professional somehow, as if Gentarō’s trying to curry favor by matching his mood.

Ramuda decides he prefers the Gentarō who messes with him.

“You might surprise yourself,” Jakurai says, breaking Ramuda from his thoughts. “I find that rap and poetry are remarkably similar in some respects. From my amateur perspective, at least.”

“As long as your sense of rhythm isn’t completely terrible, I’m sure we could train you up,” Ramuda agrees. The door to the room opens and a waiter enters, setting their drinks on the table. Ramuda doesn’t hesitate to pick up his drink, a pinkish tea he’d chosen mainly for the color, and watches as Gentarō studies him back.

Gentarō waits until the waiter has left again, and then says, “Are you inviting me to join your team?”

“Sort of,” Ramuda replies. He takes another sip of his drink, and then continues with, “We’re mainly interested in the information you have.”

“Information?” Gentarō asks, and even though Ramuda likes to think he knows Gentarō better than most people, he can’t read Gentarō right now.

“We don’t approve of the way the current government is being run,” Jakurai says, and Gentarō’s expression falters a little as he glances at Jakurai, clearly caught off guard by Jakurai’s bluntness. “And we believe that the information you have could be used to force a change in leadership.”

Gentarō pauses ever so briefly. Ramuda only notices because he was looking for it.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gentarō says, plastering a politely confused expression on his face. “I’m not terribly involved in politics.”

“I understand you don’t have any reason to trust us, but we really do need your help,” Jakurai continues, unperturbed by Gentarō’s denial. “We know that Chuoku is engaged in a number of human rights violations, but we don’t have concrete evidence. If you were to share your information with us, we’d like to use our current social and political influence to publicize it, and we’d also be willing to provide you protection from Chuoku.”

“Human rights violations?” Gentarō replies, faking surprise. “That’s a serious accusation.”

Briefly, Ramuda wonders if this is how Jakurai feels when talking to him. Maybe he should try to be a little more honest, sometimes.

For a moment, Ramuda hesitates, but then he says, “I used to work for Chuoku.”

Gentarō blinks at him, looking caught off guard.

“So I know what they’re doing and why you don’t trust us,” he continues, propping his elbows up on the table and supporting his chin with his hands. “Talking to you like this is just as dangerous for me as it is for you, if my superiors find out.”

“Shouldn’t you have evidence of your own?” Gentarō asks. “If you work for Chuoku.”

“I don’t really have any videos or information that could be externally verified,” Ramuda says, considering the question. “And I could try to get some, but if I got caught, I’d probably be killed immediately.” He plasters a smile on his face and adds, “The Prime Minister is really strong.”

“So you’d rather I get killed?” Gentarō asks, almost uninterestedly. “If I were to release the information you think I have.”

“Chuoku already knows you have the information,” Jakurai points out. He’s already sipped his way through his first cup of tea, Ramuda observes idly. “And they can’t act against you because they don’t know where it is, I assume? For Ramuda-kun to gather evidence, he’d have to go in alone, which is much more risky than protecting you after we’ve released the evidence.”

Gentarō doesn’t respond immediately. Ramuda can feel Jakurai glance at him, probably trying to think of anything else they could try, but Ramuda just drinks another mouthful of tea, waiting for Gentarō.

“This is certainly an interesting – hypothetical – plan,” Gentarō finally says, the polite smile back on his face. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I’ll give you my phone number,” Ramuda announces, perking up. “So you can call me if you want to talk about it more, sometime.”

“Well,” Gentarō replies, digging his phone out of some mysterious pocket hidden in the layers of his clothes. “I’m not sure about that, but I suppose I could use your help figuring out how to outsmart Jinguji-sensei in my next novel.”

“I said I wanted a sci-fi novel,” Ramuda huffs, but he accepts Gentarō’s phone and puts in his number.

“Maybe next time,” Gentarō says with a smile.

---

“Should we be monitoring him?”

Ramuda blinks up at Jakurai. They’d parted ways with Gentarō outside of the restaurant, and are walking back to the parking lot where Jakurai had left his car.

“Although Chuoku has left him alone so far, he could be in danger if they realize he’s been in contact with us,” Jakurai explains.

“I’ve had Dice tailing Gentarō for a while now,” Ramuda admits, looking away from Jakurai and back at the sidewalk in front of him. “Not all the time, but enough that I’d know if he went missing. I could ask him to stick closer, I guess, but I think there’s some pachinko event going on right now, so I’m not sure he’d do it.”

“I see,” Jakurai replies, a considering expression on his face. “Is there anyone else we could have monitoring him?”

Ramuda makes a contemplative noise and then says, “We could hire Ichirō.”

“I suppose if it’s a job, he would be able to make time for it,” Jakurai agrees, as they reach the parking lot. Jakurai digs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the car, opening the driver’s side door while Ramuda climbs up into the passenger seat.

“Okay, I’ll text him about it,” Ramuda says as he takes out his phone, keeping his tone light despite the subject matter.

It doesn’t take long for Ramuda to compose the message and send it off. Ichirō doesn’t respond immediately, though, so Ramuda switches to his chat with Dice, and asks him for his schedule for the week. Other than the pachinko event, he’s pretty sure he remembers Dice saying something about horse racing, but he can’t remember exactly when that was supposed to be.

It’s kind of funny, Ramuda thinks idly, how different Ichirō and Dice are, even though they’re only a year apart in age. The thought of Dice being responsible for the health and safety of two middle schoolers is kind of scary, actually.

Not that Dice doesn’t have his good points, of course. He always shows up when it matters.

Ramuda’s phone buzzes, breaking him from his thoughts. However, when he goes to check it, he has to suppress a grimace as he finds that it’s not from Ichirō or Dice. Technically, he’s supposed to be putting the finishing touches on a collection for a show coming up soon, but he’s had barely any time to check up on his assistants in the past few days. Of course, making sure everyone stays alive is a higher priority than the show, but he doesn’t really want to pull out at the last moment, especially after hiring another temporary assistant specifically for –

“Ramuda-kun?”

“Hm?” Ramuda replies, tearing his gaze away from his phone.

“Is everything alright?” Jakurai asks. There’s a crease in between his eyebrows, and part of Ramuda wants to reach up and smooth it out with his thumb.

“Of course!” Ramuda chirps, plastering a smile on his face. After a moment, though, he lets it warp into a pout and says, “Dice and Ichirō just take forever to reply.”

For a moment, Jakurai goes quiet, studying Ramuda. It makes Ramuda want to fidget, and he opens his mouth to say something to break the silence, but before he can, Jakurai says, “You don’t have to pretend around me anymore.”

Ramuda blinks at him.

“What do you mean by that?” Ramuda huffs, puffing up his cheeks in indignation.

“I’m sure it’s tiring to do that voice all of the time,” Jakurai replies, fixing his eyes back on the road. “And you don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you’re not.” He pauses, then adds, “Of course, I understand if it makes you more comfortable to act as if nothing has changed, or if you think it will take you some time to readjust.”

Now it’s Ramuda’s turn to study Jakurai.

He doesn’t get Jakurai, most of the time.

It’s not as if Jakurai never gets mad or annoyed with him. Although the tone of voice is a little different from future Jakurai’s, he’s gotten lectured by this Jakurai a few times too, for being rude or not acting properly in public.

But while Jakurai is generally willing to put up with a lot more shit than – well, anyone else Ramuda’s ever met, probably, that generosity only extends to certain things. He spent a whole year dragging Jakurai through completely pointless “special training” and Jakurai didn’t say more than, “Are you sure about this?” but the moment he hurt Yotsutsuji…

It’s not like he made any effort to reconcile with Jakurai – future Jakurai, at least – but Jakurai never gave him the benefit of the doubt either.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Ramuda asks, letting his voice drop down to its normal range.

“Pardon?” Jakurai replies, glancing over at him briefly, before looking back at the road.

“I’ve been manipulating you since the day we met,” Ramuda says. Technically, he’s still manipulating Jakurai, if omitting the whole time travel thing counts. “I’m the reason you’re involved in all of this.”

“Chuoku would have found a way to involve me whether or not you did what they told you to,” Jakurai replies, his tone mild and unperturbed. He flips on his turn signal, and then switches lanes. “And you’ve already told me the truth about the situation, so I don’t really see a point in punishing you for it.”

“What are you, some kind of saint?” Ramuda mutters, his mouth slanting down in a scowl as he studies Jakurai’s profile.

Jakurai doesn’t reply, and for a moment, Ramuda thinks Jakurai didn’t hear him, but then Jakurai says, “On the contrary, my interest in you is purely selfish.”

Ramuda blinks at him.

“I knew that you had ulterior motives from the first time you approached me,” Jakurai admits, as he maneuvers the car into the turn lane. “But I was interested in learning how to rap, and I was interested in you, so I went with you anyway.”

“Because you thought you could handle me by yourself?” Ramuda asks, considering the new information. “Well, I guess you were an assassin – ”

“I thought I could make you tell me on your own.”

The statement catches Ramuda off guard.

“I suppose it didn’t exactly work out that way in the end,” Jakurai continues, as he pulls the car up in front of Ramuda’s apartment building, “but I thought I could convince you to show me your true self. So if anything, I’m not angry because this is what I wanted.”

“So you thought you could save me or something?” Ramuda huffs, frowning at Jakurai as he puts the car into park. “That still sounds like – ”

He cuts himself off as Jakurai moves far, far too close into his personal space.

Jakurai’s mouth only brushes against his for a moment. It’s probably the most chaste kiss Ramuda’s ever received, but it makes his heart beat faster than some of the actual sex he’s had, and he can feel himself start to lean into –

“Ramuda-kun,” Jakurai says, his voice low. “Please stop pretending you don’t know why I let you lead me around like this. We both know it’s not altruism.”

Ramuda stares at him.

“I’m sorry if my feelings make you uncomfortable,” Jakurai finally says, pulling away from Ramuda and averting his eyes. “But I’d prefer if you didn’t pretend they don’t exist. I know this may sound hypocritical, after – ”

“You like me?” Ramuda asks, the words spilling past his lips before he can stop them.

Now it’s Jakurai’s turn to blink at him.

“I,” Jakurai starts, a little stilted, “did not think I was being particularly subtle.”

Ramuda stares at Jakurai again.

He’s gotten better at identifying emotions directed at him over the past few years, but sometimes he still misses things.

His brain was made fully developed, so it’s not like there’s any physical reason he should be worse than other people at understanding emotions. He’s gone on enough dates to know when someone’s attracted to him, can read it in the dilation of their pupils and the way they lean in a little too close. But it can be hard to really understand and relate to other emotions that he’s never actually felt before, or has only experienced a handful of times in the few short years he’s spent outside the Chuoku labs.

And romantic love… if the sudden too-tight feeling in his chest is what he suspects it is, it’s a recent development.

Also, he’d never imagined that Jakurai, of all people, would fall in love with him.

Maybe it’s because part of him is still conflating future Jakurai with this Jakurai. The thought of future Jakurai falling in love with him is laughable at best, and although logically he knows that his relationship with this Jakurai is very different than his future relationship with –

Ramuda’s thought process comes to a sudden halt.

This Jakurai isn’t future Jakurai, but he could be.

“Thanks for the ride,” Ramuda says a little abruptly, plastering a smile on his face. “I’ll see you at Samatoki’s on Friday.”

“Ramuda-kun – ” Jakurai starts, but Ramuda’s already pulling the car door open.

He doesn’t quite run to his apartment, but it’s a near thing.

---

Ramuda has been avoiding Jakurai.

It’s been surprisingly easy, actually. Even though they’re on the same team, they both have day jobs – ones with pretty long hours, even – and no one really tries to argue when Ramuda uses his upcoming fashion show as an excuse to miss a team meeting.

Jakurai can tell it’s a lie, probably, but whatever boldness had prompted that kiss the other day seems to have run out. Either that or he’s being polite.

Ramuda blinks as he realizes he’s lost track of how long he’s been staring blankly at his email inbox.

“Stupid Jakurai,” Ramuda groans, sinking back into the couch cushions. His face feels hot and his heart is beating fast in his chest just at the memory of Jakurai’s mouth against his own.

This whole thing would be a lot easier it he wasn’t probably in love with Jakurai too.

The door to Ramuda’s apartment opens with a soft click, breaking him from his thoughts, and a moment later he hears Dice call out, “I’m home!” from the entryway.

“Dice!” Ramuda chirps, relieved to have a distraction. He puts aside his laptop and bounds up from the couch, rounding the corner into the front hall to annouce, “Let’s go out for dinner tonight!”

“Out?” Dice repeats, his eyes brightening.

“My treat,” Ramuda assures him. “Unless you won big today.”

“I almost – ” Dice starts to protest, but then cuts himself off, grimacing. “I didn’t lose that much.” He hesitates, then adds, “But if there’s any chance I could borrow – ”

“You still haven’t paid me back for the last five times,” Ramuda huffs, puffing his cheeks out in a pout. Not that he’s actually upset. All of the money he’s lent Dice is from his Chuoku allowance and not his actual income, and it’s kind of funny to imagine Ichijiku’s reaction if she were to ever find out.

(Then again, he’s pretty sure Ichijiku already thinks he’s spending it on hotel rooms and fancy dates, so.)

“C’mon, let’s go,” Ramuda says, slipping his shoes on. “I know a good place.”

“What, now?” Dice asks. He eyes Ramuda’s getup, and adds, “I don’t need to dress up for it, right?”

Ramuda’s outfit today isn’t particularly formal, but it’s certainly eye-catching, especially next to Dice’s beat-up coat and ripped jeans. Ramuda makes a quick decision, and says, “Actually, let’s find you something to wear!”

Dice grimaces.

It takes a good twenty minutes for Ramuda to dress up Dice, and only partially because most of his clothes don’t exactly fit. Dice puts up with it, though – probably because of the prospect of free food – and even manages a smile for a couple of the photos Ramuda insists on taking after.

Then, they go to the restaurant.

“I would have been fine in my normal clothes!” Dice exclaims, as they enter the izakaya.

“Yep,” Ramuda agrees cheerily, waving at a waiter.

It’s not a dive bar, but the izakaya isn’t exactly the sort of instagrammable café that Ramuda usually frequents. He and Dice stick out among the salarymen in their suits, but no one pays them much mind as the waiter leads them to a table in the back, everyone too absorbed in drinking away the stress of a long work week.

“Two beers, please!” Ramuda says to the waiter before he’s even received the menu, but the waiter seems unfazed by the order, and replies with, “Two beers, coming right up.”

“I can order what I want, right?” Dice asks, picking up a menu. His eyes are bright, tongue darting out to lick his lips, and Ramuda lets out a little laugh, a warm feeling spreading out through his chest.

“Sure,” Ramuda answers. “I said I’d treat you.”

“Do you wanna get married?” Dice replies, and part of him seems almost serious.

“Hmm, that’s a tempting offer,” Ramuda says, pretending to consider it. “But I think you’re still a little too young for – ”

Something occurs to Ramuda.

“Here are your beers,” the waiter announces, appearing beside the table again. “Is there anything else I can get for you now?”

Before Dice can reach for one, Ramuda grabs both of the beers and places them on his side of the table. Then, he smiles up at the waiter and says, “One oolong tea, please!”

The waiter blinks at him for a moment, but only glances at Dice for a split-second before replying with, “Alright. Anything else?”

“I think we need some more time to look at the menu,” Ramuda replies, giving the waiter his cutest smile.

“Okay, I’ll be right back with your oolong tea,” the waiter says.

“I thought one of those was for me,” Dice complains, once the waiter’s left again, eyeing the two beers sitting in front of Ramuda. His lower lip has pushed out in a pout and part of Ramuda wants to reach over and pinch his cheeks.

“You’re still eighteen,” Ramuda replies, doing his best to sound stern – and cover up the fact that he’d forgotten too until after ordering. He’d gotten so used to drinking with future Dice and Gentarō that it hadn’t occurred to him that, technically, Dice is still a minor.

“You’ve never cared about it before,” Dice huffs, looking back at the menu propped up in front of him. “You let me have a pack of your cigarettes yesterday and you didn’t say anything about me going to the race track this morning.”

Ramuda stares at Dice.

Then, he holds out his hand and says, “Give me all the cigarettes you have.”

“What?” Dice exclaims. “No!”

“Cigarettes are bad for you,” Ramuda protests. “They ruin your lungs and stuff! I’ll make you listen to Jakurai’s hour long lecture on lung cancer if you don’t give me all the cigarettes you have on you now.”

“Why is it okay for you to smoke and not me?” Dice huffs, but he digs into his pocket and takes out the box of cigarettes that Ramuda had given him yesterday, now half empty and a little crumpled.

“Because I’m an adult,” Ramuda says primly, confiscating the cigarettes.

“Are you?” Dice asks, eyeing him dubiously.

“I’m twenty – ” He catches himself before he says four. “ – two.”

Dice looks skeptical.

“I have a full-time job and pay rent!” Ramuda huffs, glaring at Dice. “And taxes! Which is more than you do!”

“Okay, okay,” Dice replies, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “But you can’t stop me from going to the racetrack. And pachinko’s eighteen anyway, so I’m not even breaking the law with that one.”

“It’s so hard raising kids as a single father,” Ramuda sighs overdramatically. He reaches for his beer and takes a larger sip than he probably should.

“I’m eighteen, not eight!” Dice protests. “And it’s not like you actually raised me.”

He mutters something under his breath after that, and Ramuda could almost swear he makes out, At least you couldn’t be worse at it than my mom.

“Hm?” Ramuda replies, watching Dice’s expression carefully.

“I want yakitori and eggplant tempura,” Dice says, looking down at the menu.

“Okay,” Ramuda says, not trying to push the subject. “Anything else?”

If Dice wants to talk about it, they can talk about it. If he doesn’t, they don’t have to. It’s actually a little nice to know that even if so much else has changed, at least that part of their relationship has stayed the same.

A small, quiet part of Ramuda wonders if maybe, someday, Dice will trust him enough to tell him.

As Ramuda studies Dice, it occurs to him that maybe this is what Jakurai meant about wanting to see his “true self.” He’s pretty good at seeing through people, though, and Dice doesn’t seem like he’s acting, even if it’s clear that there are some topics he’s careful to avoid.

Would there even be a point in knowing, though?

“Ramuda?” Dice asks, breaking Ramuda from his thoughts.

“There’s a super cute girl at the table behind you,” Ramuda says, forcing a smile onto his face. Dice frowns, his forehead creasing, but before he can say anything, Ramuda waves over a waiter to take their order.

He orders more than he probably should, but he’s never seen Dice not be able to finish all the food put in front of him, so it’s probably fine. Even though he’s been feeding Dice there square meals a day (well, at least two, because he’s not really sure what Dice does for lunch), it’s impressive how much Dice can pack away, and he amuses himself with watching as Dice inhales one dish after another.

It’s just when he thinks he has Dice thoroughly distracted, when Dice says, “So is something up with you and Doc?”

“Doc?” Ramuda repeats, feigning ignorance.

“The really tall guy? Jinguji something?” Dice elaborates, gesturing to indicate Jakurai’s height. “Normally you’re always hanging out with him after work.”

“Am I not allowed to spend time with my best friend Dice?” Ramuda huffs, as he polishes off his third beer.

“We live together,” Dice points out around a mouthful of tempura. He pauses for a moment, studying Ramuda, and then says, “Did you guys break up or something?”

Ramuda blinks at him.

“Jakurai and I are just friends,” Ramuda says, and now it’s Dice’s turn to blink at him.

“Really?” Dice asks, swallowing his tempura.

“Yes, really,” Ramuda answers. He glances over to see if there are any waiters nearby who he could flag down for another beer.

“But you like him, right?” Dice says, frowning.

The statement catches Ramuda thoroughly off guard, and his first instinct is to deny it, but the words get stuck halfway up his throat. He hesitates for a moment, all too aware of the way Dice’s gaze on him is making his skin prickle, and then says, “Jakurai kissed me the other day.”

“But you’re not dating?” Dice asks. He reaches for his oolong tea and takes a sip, grimacing slightly as he swallows.

“We’re not,” Ramuda answers, plastering a smile back on his face as he catches the attention of a waiter.

Dice waits until Ramuda’s ordered another beer, and then says, “Why not? If you both like each other, then you should go for it.”

Ramuda goes quiet for a moment, studying Dice. Dice doesn’t seem perturbed by it, though, just picks up another yakitori skewer as he waits for Ramuda’s reply.

“You don’t like to talk about your mom, right?” Ramuda finally says.

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Dice asks, eyeing Ramuda warily.

“Nothing,” Ramuda says, his tone light. A waiter places another beer in front of Ramuda and then rushes off towards another table, and Ramuda picks it up to take a sip. “There’s just some stuff I haven’t told Jakurai, and he’d probably hate me if I did.”

Now it’s Dice’s turn to go quiet.

For someone as easy to read as Dice usually is, on rare occasions it can be scarily difficult to tell what he’s thinking.

“I don’t think I can tell you about my mom yet,” Dice finally says.

Ramuda sips at his beer and waits for Dice to continue.

“I used to think it didn’t matter,” Dice says after a beat, “because I don’t want it to define me. But I don’t like feeling like I’m lying to you all the time. So even though I can’t tell you now, I wanna be able to tell you someday.” He fiddles with his yakitori skewer, jaw clenched tight. “Is that selfish of me?”

“I’m not sure if it’s selfish,” Ramuda muses, licking the foam off the edge of his beer glass. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he asks, “So are you saying you’re scared of gambling on my reaction?”

“That’s – ” Dice sputters. His mouth twists into a scowl. “ – different.”

“Uh huh,” Ramuda replies, smiling outright now. “You weren’t scared of gambling on whether I was gonna sell your organs or not, but you don’t wanna risk me hating you because of your mom?”

“I said that’s not – ” Dice starts to retort, but then he cuts himself off. He scowls at Ramuda for a moment, but then says, “Fine. If you tell Doc about whatever it is, then I’ll tell you about my mom.”

“Really?” Ramuda asks, a little caught off guard.

“Really,” Dice confirms, and there’s a certain glint in his eyes, as if he’s daring Ramuda to follow through.

“Deal,” Ramuda chirps, and then downs the rest of his beer.

How many drinks is he on now?

---

Ramuda’s not sure what time it is.

All of the lights in Jakurai’s house are off, though, and he and Dice are the only ones staggering through the streets of the quiet residential district.

Of course, that doesn’t stop Dice from banging on the door.

“Diiice,” Ramuda whines. He’s clinging to Dice’s shirt, but the only thing actually keeping him upright is Dice’s arm around his waist. “Dice, what if he hates me?”

“You can’t go into a gamble thinking about losing,” Dice says, his voice firm. As if he’s not an eighteen-year-old who’s only allowed into the gambling dens he frequents because most of them are already breaking the law anyway. “He’s gonna accept you because your past doesn’t define you.” A pause, and then, “As long as the statute of limitations is up.”

“What did your mom do?” Ramuda asks, looking up at Dice. “What do you think I did?”

“I dunno,” Dice says cheerily. “We can talk about that later, if you don’t chicken out.”

Ramuda opens his mouth to protest, but before he can, the door swings open, revealing a harried-looking Jakurai.

“Ramuda-kun, did something – ” Jakurai starts, but before he can finish, Dice dumps Ramuda into his arms. Jakurai staggers slightly, but he’s quick to catch Ramuda before he falls, and Ramuda finds his face pressed up against Jakurai’s stomach.

“He has something he needs to tell you,” Dice announces, and then promptly abandons them.

“Jakuraaaai,” Ramuda slurs, his voice muffled against Jakurai’s shirt.

“You’re drunk,” Jakurai sighs, brushing back Ramuda’s bangs to study the dilation of his pupils and the flush of his cheeks. Ramuda makes a noise of confirmation and Jakurai sighs again, before saying, “Let’s sober you up and then I’ll take you home.”

“Dice has my keys,” Ramuda mutters, half distracted by the warmth of Jakurai’s body pressed up against him.

Jakurai pauses for a beat too long, and Ramuda pulls his face away from Jakurai’s stomach to look up at him. There’s an awkward, uncomfortable look on his face, but before Ramuda can ask about it, Jakurai turns away and says, “You should drink some water.”

Ramuda lets Jakurai lead him down the hall and to the kitchen. Part of him wants to demand that Jakurai carry him, like he normally would, but the uncomfortable way Jakurai avoids looking at him makes him refrain. For a moment, he has enough clarity to wonder if maybe this wasn’t a good idea, if maybe he should just leave and find Dice again –

“Ramuda-kun?”

Jakurai’s voice breaks Ramuda from his thoughts, and he looks up to find that Jakurai’s expression has shifted from awkward to concerned.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Ramuda says.

“It’s fine,” Jakurai replies, his tone carefully neutral in a way that seems to say it isn’t really fine. He turns away from Ramuda to take a glass down from one of the cupboards. “But Yotsutsuji-kun is still sleeping, so I’d appreciate it if you tried not to make too much noise.”

“I can try to call Dice and see if he can come give me my keys back,” Ramuda mutters, watching as Jakurai fills up the glass with water. “If you don’t want me here.”

Jakurai goes quiet for a moment, and then says, “It’s not a problem with me if you’d rather spend the night here, but I’d assumed you wouldn’t be comfortable with that.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Ramuda replies, as Jakurai hands him the water. He takes a sip and studies Jakurai’s face, the tight press of his lips and the shadows under his eyes, and wonders if telling Jakurai the truth will really help anything.

“I want to apologize,” Jakurai starts, a little abruptly. “For kissing you the other day.”

Ramuda blinks at him.

“I was frustrated because I thought you were purposefully ignoring my feelings,” Jakurai continues, not meeting Ramuda’s eyes. “Which, of course, is still not a valid excuse to – ”

“It’s not your fault,” Ramuda interrupts. It finally makes Jakurai look at him again, and Jakurai opens his mouth to protest, but before he can, Ramuda says, “I still haven’t told you everything.”

Jakurai hesitates, then says, “I don’t see what that has to do with the fact that I kissed you without your consent.”

Ramuda shakes his head, reaching out to fist a hand in Jakurai’s shirt again and willing the words to come out of his mouth. The thought of saying it had seemed easier when Dice had proposed the idea, but even with the alcohol loosening his lips, all Ramuda can manage is, “You wouldn’t like me anymore if I told you.”

“I highly doubt that,” Jakurai replies with a soft huff of a laugh.

Ramuda shakes his head again, clenching Jakurai’s shirt even harder in his grip.

“We should get you to bed,” Jakurai finally sighs, when it becomes clear that Ramuda isn’t going to say anything more.

He coaxes Ramuda into finishing the rest of his water, and then leads him down the hallway, further into the house. Ramuda’s never actually been back here, but they pass an office, and what he assumes is Yotsutsuji’s room, before finally stopping at Jakurai’s bedroom.

“I’m afraid I don’t think I have anything that will fit you,” Jakurai says, examining Ramuda’s clothes. “And I don’t want to disturb Yotsutsuji-kun.”

“That’s okay,” Ramuda replies absently, as he strips off his jacket and his socks. He’s not unaccustomed to sleeping in just his underwear or less, but the thought of wearing that little in Jakurai’s bed seems ill-advised at best, considering the situation, so he settles with his shirt and shorts.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything,” Jakurai says a little stiffly, and then turns towards the door.

Ramada grabs his wrist.

“You should stay,” Ramuda mutters, looking up at Jakurai.

“Ramuda-kun – ” Jakurai sighs.

“The bed’s big enough,” Ramuda protests, and he feels his lower lip start to push out into a pout, an almost conditioned reaction at this point. “You’ll hurt your back sleeping on the couch.”

“Ramuda-kun, this is what I meant by – ” Jakurai starts, but he doesn’t actually try to pull away from Ramuda’s grip.

“Jakurai,” Ramuda whines, warping himself fully around Jakurai’s arm.

Jakurai wavers for a moment.

And then gives in.

It’s almost laughably easy, and Ramuda’s absolutely sure future Jakurai would hate it. As he falls asleep, he wonders if tomorrow Jakurai will too.

---

Ramuda wakes up with a headache.

He groans as he peels his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the window, and wills the sun to turn off. The sun doesn’t cooperate, though, and so he turns over onto his other side, putting his back to the window.

And comes face to face with Jakurai.

For a moment, Ramuda thinks that Jakurai’s still asleep. He must have been disturbed by Ramuda’s squirming, though, because his face twitches, and a second later his eyes blink open.

Ramuda holds his breath as he waits for Jakurai’s eyes to focus. He can tell the moment Jakurai registers the situation, because his sleep-relaxed expression vanishes, replaced by something that suggests he’s bracing himself for the worst.

The two of them stare at each other for a long moment.

“Good morning,” Ramuda finally says.

Jakurai hesitates for a beat, and then says, “Good morning.”

The two of them fall into silence again.

“I’m sorry,” Ramuda starts, a little haltingly, “about last night.”

“I suppose I’m glad you came to me, instead of making Arisugawa-kun deal with the situation,” Jakurai replies slowly, the set of his jaw tense. “Although I can’t approve of you allowing yourself to become that intoxicated around a minor.”

“You never say that when we bring Ichirō along when we go out drinking,” Ramuda huffs, puffing his cheeks out in indignation.

“That’s because I’m also there to handle the situation,” Jakurai sighs.

“Well I couldn’t ask you this time,” Ramuda retorts, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can think them through properly. The moment he registers what he’s just said, though, he freezes.

“I,” Jakurai says haltingly, “suppose that’s true.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry about – ”

“Stop apologizing,” Ramuda huffs, his mouth twisting into a scowl. “I’m not mad at you or anything. I just – ”

He cuts himself off, unsure how to continue.

Jakurai studies him for a long moment, and then says, “I love you.”

It’s the first time Jakurai’s actually said it, Ramuda realizes.

He says it simply, like a fact. There’s nothing awkward or uncertain in his tone anymore, just a steady sort of confidence, as if he’s certain of what he’s saying, and he’s willing Ramuda to understand that.

“Why?” Ramuda asks.

Jakurai blinks at him, looking caught off guard.

Jakurai goes quiet for a moment, his expression shifting to something contemplative, and Ramuda almost wants to take back the question, but then Jakurai says, “I am aware that I am not the easiest person to be around.”

Ramuda’s forehead creases.

“I had a childhood friend,” Jakurai continues, choosing his words slowly, “who I was quite close with, and also considered a rival.”

“Hitoya?” Ramuda asks, his mouth slanting into a frown as he wonders what this has to do with anything. Jakurai blinks at him, and he adds, “You’ve mentioned him before.”

“Yes, Hitoya,” Jakurai confirms. He pauses, then says, “He was the first person I truly thought was interesting, and things were always more fun when he was around to compete with.” Jakurai goes quiet. “I didn’t realize he didn’t feel the same way.”

Truth be told, Ramuda doesn’t really know much about Amaguni Hitoya. He’d read the file Chuoku had given him before they’d sent him to Nagoya, but they’ve never battled, or even talked for that matter, and it’s strange to hear Jakurai talk about someone like this.

“He said being around me was suffocating,” Jakurai says. His tone stays steady. “So I am aware that, despite my intentions, I can come off as arrogant, and my accomplishments can be intimidating.”

“That’s not your fault,” Ramuda huffs, trying not to think about how he’s said things uncomfortably close to that before, to future Jakurai.

“Hitoya had also recently lost his brother at the time, and I wasn’t able to help him the way a friend should,” Jakurai tells Ramuda placatingly. “It wasn’t his fault for feeling the way he did.”

“And?” Ramuda asks, studying Jakurai’s expression. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“I’ve received similar comments from colleagues and friends since then,” Jakurai says, and he smiles in a resigned sort of way. “People generally don’t have any issues with me as a mentor or a boss, but it’s hard when we try to be equals. So when you asked me to form a team with you, I assumed it would turn out the same.”

“It is kind of annoying how quickly you pick up on things,” Ramuda grumbles, but there’s no malice behind it.

“But you still gave in to my requests for special training every time,” Jakurai replies, his smile turning into something more genuine.

“You know that wasn’t actually training, right?” Ramuda says, frowning at Jakurai.

“I do,” Jakurai agrees. “You could have just taught me how to rap and left it at that, but instead you actually spent time with me. I enjoyed it. It’s been a long time since someone pushed me out of my comfort zone like that.”

Ramuda stares at him.

“You like me because I made you go bungee jumping,” he says flatly.

“I like you because there aren’t many people who would make me go bungee jumping,” Jakurai corrects, and there’s something so fond about the way he’s looking at Ramuda now, it makes Ramuda’s chest feel too tight. “I can’t say I particularly enjoyed the bungee jumping itself.”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Ramuda mutters, trying to ignore the heat on his cheeks.

“I love you,” Jakurai says again, softly.

“You shouldn’t,” Ramuda huffs, breaking eye contact.

“Because of whatever it is you haven’t told me yet?” Jakurai asks. Ramuda doesn’t reply, so he continues with, “It will be difficult for me to fall out of love with you if you won’t even tell me what it is you think I’d hate you for.”

For a moment, Ramuda’s quiet.

There’s no reason he has to tell Jakurai, technically. Unlike his connection with Chuoku, he’s probably the only one in the entire world who knows about his time travel mishap, and he doubts there’s any way anyone would actually guess it. And unlike the clone thing, he doesn’t even have a way to prove it, so there’s no guarantee Jakurai would believe him anyway.

Really, the best thing to do would be to forget about it. He can move on with his life, one where that future doesn’t even technically exist, and Jakurai never has to know about the disaster they avoided.

Instead, Ramuda says, “I’m from the future.”

Jakurai blinks at him.

“I suppose that would explain why the cloning technology – ” Jakurai starts, a considering look on his face.

“Not like that,” Ramuda interrupts, giving Jakurai an annoyed look. “I’m Ramuda from two years in the future. I switched out with my past self a couple of months ago, when I accidentally set off some weird Chuoku technology.”

Jakurai studies him for a long moment.

Ramuda can see him mentally putting everything together, and part of him wants to bolt, but instead he waits until Jakurai says, “That’s why you suddenly took an interest in Ichirō-kun’s brothers and Samatoki-kun’s sister.”

“Two years ago,” Ramuda says, “I followed Chuoku’s orders and broke up TDD.”

“You killed their siblings?” Jakurai asks, his voice low.

“No, everyone’s alive, but – ” He cuts himself off, hesitating. “I told Chuoku that Yotsutsuji knew I was a clone, so they used one of the experimental mics on him. He’s in a coma, and no one’s been able to bring him out of it.”

“I see,” Jakurai says. He goes quiet again, and Ramuda braces himself for – “So you’ve been trying to fix it.”

The statement catches Ramuda off guard, and he unconsciously looks up at Jakurai again. Instead of the anger he’d expected, though, the anger he remembers from two years ago, when Jakurai had come to confront him about Yotsutsuji, he finds that Jakurai looks entirely unperturbed.

“I put Yotsutsuji in a coma,” Ramuda repeats, watching Jakurai.

“Yotsutsuji-kun is not currently in a coma,” Jakurai corrects him. “Do you plan on letting Chuoku harm him again?”

“No,” Ramuda admits, begrudgingly.

“Then I can’t hate you for something that hasn’t even happened,” Jakurai says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reaches a hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind Ramuda’s ear, and Ramuda feels himself shiver at the touch.

“You hated me then,” Ramuda mutters. His heartrate increases at the feeling of Jakurai’s fingertips against his cheek.

“And I could probably hate you again if you were to purposefully hurt Yotsutsuji-kun,” Jakurai agrees, withdrawing his hand. “But considering everything you’ve been doing recently to keep Yotsutsuji-kun and everyone else safe, I doubt that’s going to happen.”

“I don’t really like him,” Ramuda huffs. It’s the truth, even, but Jakurai doesn’t look put off by it.

“He doesn’t particularly like you either,” Jakurai says, and he looks amused, if anything. “But I think that’s something that could be fixed if you actually spent some time together without accusing each other of things.”

“You’re so weird,” Ramuda sighs, the last of the tension draining out of him. “You know, your future self would hate this.”

“You’re not going to change my feelings for you that easily,” Jakurai says and –

And Ramuda makes a frustrated noise and pulls him in for a kiss.

It’s not a particularly elegant kiss, partially because Jakurai clearly wasn’t expecting it. Ramuda’s confident in his kissing skills, though, and he presses himself close, waiting until Jakurai starts to kiss back. Jakurai’s mouth is warm and wet, and a shiver runs down Ramuda’s spine as he feels Jakurai slide a hand around his waist, pulling him in to –

There’s a loud knock on the door, followed by a, “Jakurai-san?”

Jakurai pulls away immediately, his face flushed redder than Ramuda’s ever seen it.

“Jakurai-san, are you awake?” Yotsutsuji asks through the door. “I’m making breakfast.”

“Thank you, I’ll be there soon,” Jakurai calls back, pushing himself upright. Idly, Ramuda wonders if Yotsutsuji will notice how Jakurai’s voice is slightly strained.

Apparently he does, because he pauses for a moment, before asking, “Jakurai-san, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Jakurai answers, but his breath hitches slightly as Ramuda presses in closer to him again, eyes widening in a way that makes Ramuda have to bite back a grin.

It’s quiet on the other side of the door again, but finally Yotsutsuji says, “Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen. If you decide you’re not feeling well, I can save your food for later.”

“Thank you,” Jakurai manages.

There’s the sound of footsteps disappearing down the hall, and Jakurai breathes a sigh of relief, a bit of the tension draining out of his shoulders. He looks kind of cute, actually, Ramuda decides, with his face still a little flushed and his hair in disarray.

“So,” Ramuda says, sliding himself into Jakurai’s lap. “Do you think Yotsutsuji will hate me more or less if we start dating?”

Jakurai stares at him.

“Ramuda-kun,” Jakurai starts, a little haltingly, “I didn’t confess to you with the intention of forcing you to – ”

“You’re not forcing me,” Ramuda huffs, puffing his cheeks out in a pout. “I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t really know what it’s supposed to feel like, but – ”

He cuts himself off, suddenly embarrassed with the realization of what he’s saying. He peers up at Jakurai from under his eyelashes, his heartrate increasing as he finds Jakurai looking at him with wide eyes, and –

“I think I love you,” he says.

---

“Good morning!” Ramuda chirps.

Samatoki just grunts, but at least Jakurai gives him a proper, “Good morning,” and Ichirō follows it up with a slightly belated, “Ah, good morning.”

“We should get a projector,” Ramuda muses as he pulls a set of files out of his bag.

“Hah?” Samatoki says, looking up from his phone to glare at Ramuda. They’re meeting in his office, which has become increasingly frequent, as it’s the place Chuoku is least likely to try to intrude on. Although yakuza may have lost some influence under the new government, they’re not an opponent Chuoku takes lightly.

“It’s a pain to print out everything all the time,” Ramuda huffs. He holds out a file to Samatoki, who eyes it for a moment, but then accepts it.

“It’s not like we’re having an annual budget meeting,” Samatoki snorts, flipping open his file. Ramuda ignores him, and instead hands the next file to Ichirō, and the final one to Jakurai.

“Do yakuza not have budget meetings?” Ramuda asks, tapping at his chin as he thinks about it.

“None of your business,” Samatoki replies. He looks up from his file, and asks, “What’s this about?”

“They’re your next target!” Ramuda says with a grin.

“Target?” Ichirō asks, looking up from his own file.

“For recruitment,” Ramuda clarifies. He takes a lollipop out of his pocket and peels off the wrapper before popping it into his mouth.

“Is this for those subgroups you were talking about a while ago?” Ichirō says, his expression turning curious as he flips through the first few pages of his file.

“I’m still not letting Nemu battle,” Samatoki says, but he looks interested now too.

“I know, I know,” Ramuda huffs around his lollipop. “I found some other people who I think look interesting, so you don’t have to worry about me dragging your siblings into this anymore.”

Of course, judging by how quickly Nemu, Jirō, and Saburō are picking up rapping, he’s pretty sure they’ll get themselves involved on their own soon enough, whether he interferes or not.

“Some of them might take some convincing, so I want to assign everyone a few people to recruit,” Ramuda continues.

Part of him expects someone to protest him taking the lead on this, but Samatoki just says, “Ex-military, huh?” as he inspects the first profile.

“Rio Mason Busujima,” Ramuda announces, as everyone turns to look at the first profile. “According to the information I have, he actually has a prototype mic, from when the military was doing their initial tests with it.”

“But he hasn’t joined a team yet?” Samatoki asks, taking a drag off his cigarette.

“Apparently he’s really reclusive,” Ramuda answers.

“What makes you think he’d join us, then?” Jakurai answers, and he’s looking at Ramuda in that interested way that makes Ramuda’s skin prickle. Ramuda narrows his eyes at him, trying to silently communicate time travel, and he sees Jakurai’s mouth twitch in amusement.

“Well, he wants to restore the military,” Ramuda says, looking away from Jakurai and back to the profile. “Or at least bust his buddies out of jail, so he’s not really a fan of Chuoku. I’m pretty sure he’d help if we told him we were trying to bring down Chuoku.”

“I’ll take him,” Samatoki announces, making Ramuda blink at him.

“Okay,” Ramuda replies, flipping to the next page in the file. “I was actually hoping you’d take the first three.”

Samatoki turns to the next page too, and then pauses for a moment, before he says, “Why’d you draw bunny ears on his picture?”

“Hmm, because?” Ramuda offers, shifting his lollipop to his other cheek. “Plus, he has ‘rabbit’ in his name.”

Samatoki sighs, but apparently decides not to press the issue.

“I think I’ve seen him somewhere before,” Ichirō says as he examines the picture, his forehead creasing.

“He’s a dirty cop,” Samatoki snorts, taking his cigarette out of his mouth to blow out a mouthful of smoke. “I’ve heard about him, but we haven’t had any direct dealings. Seems like he’s pretty good with a mic, though, so he gets dispatched to a lot of out of control territory battles.”

“I think you know more about him than I do,” Ramuda says with fake surprise.

“You sure he’ll join?” Samatoki asks, ignoring Ramuda’s comment.

“It depends on if you can convince him,” Ramuda replies, smiling.

Samatoki makes a grunt of acknowledgement, but when he turns to the next page, he pauses, his eyes widening so minutely that Ramuda only notices because he was looking for it.

“You want to recruit Sasara-san again?” Ichirō asks, instead of Samatoki.

“The brainwashing should have worn off by now,” Ramuda answers, and he keeps his tone light, but he’s watching Samatoki’s expression carefully. “And even though Chuoku seems to be fine with leaving him alone now, they might try to use him later, so I’d rather we get to him first.”

For a moment, it’s quiet, but then Samatoki says, “Are you sure you want me to go recruit him?”

“Either you or Ichirō,” Ramuda confirms. “But I think it’ll go better if it’s you.”

“Fine,” Samatoki says, after a beat.

“Great!” Ramuda chirps. “That means Ichirō gets Kūkō.”

“What?” Ichirō blurts out, and Ramuda says, “Next page!” as they move to the next profile.

“What did you expect, if we’re recruiting Sasara again?” Samatoki snorts, and Ichirō shoots him a glare.

Before they can devolve into an argument, though, Ramuda says, “Don’t worry, Jakurai can go with you. There’s someone I want him to recruit in Nagoya.”

“Is there?” Jakurai asks, his forehead creasing.

“Next profile,” Ramuda says, and now it’s Jakurai’s turn to pause.

There’s nothing particular in his expression that changes. His face goes a little blank, maybe, but he recomposes himself fairly quickly, skimming the information on the document, before saying, “I doubt Hitoya take well to me trying to recruit him.”

“You know him, Jakurai-sensei?” Ichirō asks, he and Samatoki looking over at Jakurai curiously.

“I’ve known him since middle school,” Jakurai confirms. He glances over at Ramuda, studying him for a moment, and then asks, “Is this because we need a lawyer?”

“We do need someone who knows more about the law than us,” Ramuda says. He pops the lollipop out of his mouth for a moment as he adds, “But I also think he has potential.”

“He doesn’t have any experience rapping,” Jakurai points out, his mouth slanting down in a frown.

“So we can train him,” Ramuda replies, looking back up at Jakurai.

Jakurai studies him for a moment longer, and Ramuda’s not exactly sure what Jakurai’s looking for in his expression, but apparently he finds it, because he nods and says, “Alright.”

“I can always come with too,” Ramuda adds, leaning over so that his shoulder brushes up against Jakurai’s. “I wanna see Nagoya castle.” He looks over at Ichirō and Samatoki and says, “It can be a team trip!”

“I’m not going to Nagoya,” Samatoki snorts around his cigarette. “I have work to do.”

“You’re no fun,” Ramuda huffs. “Ichirō’s gonna have to go to Osaka with you, though.”

“I thought you didn’t need me to help recruit Sasara-san,” Ichirō says, blinking at Ramuda.

“Next page,” Ramuda replies.

Everyone flips to the next profile, but they haven’t even had enough time to read the first sentence before Ichirō says, “We shouldn’t recruit him.”

“Why not?” Samatoki asks, and he sounds more curious than combative.

“I don’t trust him,” Ichirō says simply. His voice is firm, though, and when he looks at Ramuda, it’s as if he’s daring Ramuda to argue.

“If we can get him to work with us, we’ll be able to plan a lot better,” Ramuda replies, sucking on his lollipop as he studies Ichirō. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure Rei actually was Ichirō’s dad until right now. He didn’t have any proof, other than the time he’d seen Rei without his glasses, and one brief comment he’d made about having kids, but it’s easy to confirm from Ichirō’s reaction.

“Who is this guy?” Samatoki asks, a crease appearing in between his eyebrows as he reads through Rei’s (minimal) profile.

“Hmm,” Ramuda says, pretending to think about it. “My dad?”

Samatoki chokes on a mouthful of cigarette smoke.

“He was one of the lead scientists on the cloning project,” Ramuda explains, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watches Samatoki try to cough the smoke back up. “And apparently he also invented the hypnosis microphone.”

“I suppose I understand Ichirō-kun’s concerns, then,” Jakurai says, frowning. He’s diplomatic enough not to ask how, exactly, Ichirō knows about Rei, and a bit of the tension relaxes from Ichirō’s shoulders. “If he works for Chuoku, what makes you think he’ll help us?”

“I wouldn’t really say he works for Chuoku,” Ramuda replies. He finally gives into the urge to bite down on the remainder of his lollipop, breaking it off the stick. “He’s more of a freelance contractor.”

“So there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t just sell us out to Chuoku for his own gain,” Ichirō retorts, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

“Which is why I want you to go see where his loyalties lie,” Ramuda says, smiling at Ichirō. He can feel Samatoki looking between the two of them, his eyes sharp in a way suggests he’s trying to read the unspoken conversation they’re having, but thankfully he doesn’t ask about it out loud.

“If he worked on developing you and the other clones, is there a chance he could find a way to fix some of your heath problems?” Jakurai asks, looking interested.

“Maybe,” Ramuda answers.

For a moment, Ichirō’s quiet, studying Ramuda, but finally he says, “Can we talk about this later, in private?”

“Sure,” Ramuda says easily. He knew it was a long shot, but the fact that Ichirō is even willing to discuss the idea is honestly more than Ramuda had expected. He turns to the next profile, and continues with, “The last two are for Jakurai.”

“A host?” Samatoki says flatly, his mouth twitching slightly as he takes in Izanami Hifumi’s profile picture.

“I don’t know a lot about him,” Ramuda admits, watching as Jakurai reads through the information on the page. “But I know one of the higher ups in Chuoku has a weird obsession with him. And she’s ranked high enough that Chuoku doesn’t really keep a tight leash on her, so she can pretty much terrorize who she wants. He might join us if we told him we could teach him how to defend himself.”

“He doesn’t have any rap experience?” Jakurai asks, looking over at Ramuda again. He looks curious, and Ramuda wonders if he’s caught on.

“I don’t think so,” Ramuda answers. “I only know about him because I’ve heard some of the gossip at headquarters.” He turns to the last page in his file, and adds, “And the last one here is kind of a set with him.”

“A host and a salaryman,” Samatoki says, in the same flat tone as before. He doesn’t sound impressed. “And neither of them have rapped before.”

“I can see why you want to recruit everyone else, Ramuda-san, but I don’t really understand these two,” Ichirō agrees, his forehead creasing as he goes through the last two profiles. “Wouldn’t it be better to try to recruit people from other established teams? Or at least people who have some experience?”

“I just think they have potential,” Ramuda huffs, puffing his cheeks up in indignation. “And the reason we haven’t tried recruiting from other teams is that there’s no way they could keep up with us anyway, right?”

“Maybe we just need to try actually training – ” Ichirō starts.

“I’ll talk to them,” Jakurai interrupts, and Ichirō blinks at him, looking caught off guard. “They seem interesting.”

“If you say so,” Samatoki snorts. He flips back to the first page of his file, and asks, “Do we have a deadline for this?”

“Not really,” Ramuda answers. “But the sooner, the better, probably.”

Samatoki makes a noise of acknowledgement, and then says, “Hey, kid.” Ichirō looks up from his file and over at Samatoki. “You free to go to Osaka this weekend?”

“I haven’t agreed to go yet,” Ichirō retorts, the corners of his mouth tugging down in a scowl.

“Then decide by Saturday,” Samatoki says. With that, he stands up from his chair, looking over at Ramuda to add, “I’ll see if my contacts can dig up anyone else who might be useful.”

“Ask Sasara if he knows anyone!” Ramuda calls after Samatoki as he heads for the door. Samatoki makes a grunt of acknowledgement, and then leaves, the door closing with a soft ‘thunk’ behind him.

“We should see if Harai-kun has found anyone too, when we go to speak to him,” Jakurai says. “Ichirō-kun, I’ll check my clinic rotation schedule and then send you a list of dates when I’m available to go to Nagoya.”

“Okay,” Ichirō answers. He hesitates for a moment, glancing at Ramuda, and then says, “Ramuda-san, could we talk more tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Ramuda agrees easily. “Text me when you’re free, okay?”

Ichirō nods, and then stands up from his seat, muttering a goodbye before leaving Ramuda and Jakurai alone in the room.

For a moment, the two of them are quiet.

Then, Jakurai says, “In the future that you came from, if you broke up TDD, I assume we formed new teams?”

“Yep,” Ramuda answers. He gives into the urge to lean up against Jakurai, relaxing against his side.

Jakurai hesitates for a beat, then asks, “Did you include Hitoya because he was on my team?”

“No,” Ramuda says truthfully, watching as the anticipation on Jakurai’s face dims a little. “But he and Kūkō formed a team, and you guys battled a few times, so I don’t think he’s given up on competing with you entirely.”

“I see,” Jakurai replies. He flips to Izanami Hifumi and Kannonzaka Doppo’s profiles, and asks, “These two, then?”

“Yep,” Ramuda answers.

“What are they like?” Jakurai asks, curiosity clear in his tone.

“I don’t really know,” Ramuda says. He rests his cheek against Jakurai’s arm, and Jakurai lets him. “They weren’t my team.”

“Who was your team?” Jakurai asks, looking away from the profiles and down at Ramuda.

Ramuda hesitates, then says, “Dice. And Gentarō.”

“Are you going to ask them to join again?” Jakurai replies, his tone soft.

“I’m going to ask Dice tonight,” Ramuda answers, taking his phone out of his pocket to check if Dice has replied to his last message. There’s nothing new, though, which probably means Dice has holed himself up somewhere without cell reception again, or he’s so caught up in whatever bet he’s making that he’s forgotten to check his phone.

“Have you heard anything from Yumeno-sensei?” Jakurai asks, and –

And Ramuda’s phone buzzes with a new message.

This is Yumeno Gentarō.

A second message pops up.

I’ve thought about your proposal, and I’d like to talk to you about a manuscript. Unfortunately, it’s not the sci-fi novel you were requesting, but I believe it might be of interest to you.

Ramuda straightens up, his heart beating fast in his chest as he unlocks his phone to type, Sure! When are you free?

He sends off the message and then just stares at his phone screen for a moment, trying to ignore the giddy anticipation building in his chest.

“I think,” he says slowly, looking up at Jakurai, “we might actually be able to do this.”

“Well, then,” Jakurai replies with a smile. “We should get to work.”