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And Chiaki just glowed, like he'd been given the whole universe, his fingers trembling when Kanata wrapped his own around them. Kanata had never seen him like that, his face turning from pleasantly shocked to a genuine smile, overwhelmed tears wobbling on the creases of his eyes. Kanata wondered if he looked the same, if Chiaki could see how in love with him he was right now, but all he could do was grip Chiaki's hand tighter.
"You crybaby," Kanata mused in his usual soft, singsong voice, flicking Chiaki on the forehead.
"I'm really so happy, I really am," he breathed into Kanata's shoulder.
They rushed through dinner, thoughts full of each other, Chiaki nearly skipping up to the fourth floor of his – their – apartment. Out of habit, he reached to unlock the door himself, but on second thought he giggled and dramatically turned around to face Kanata. "Ryusei Blue, I hereby bestow you the honor of opening your new apartment door."
Kanata hummed, plucking the keys from Chiaki's outstretched hand. "Why thank you, mister Taichou."
The door slid open and Kanata peered into the small apartment room – one bathroom, one bed, a simple kitchen, a balcony, and a worn couch. The lights whirred slightly when Chiaki flicked them on, shedding a fluorescent glow over the countertops. Sheets were draped in haphazard disarray over the twin bed, a product of Chiaki's fitful sleeping. Kanata walked slowly, taking in the somehow familiar apartment smell, his shoes newly neighboring Chiaki's.
"What do you think?" Chiaki asked.
"It feels like 'home.'"
Chiaki grinned, and then suddenly he was taking Kanata by the arms, and then they were laughing and dancing and singing old Ryuseitai songs with the harmonies they knew better than the back of their own hands. Their feet were clumsy, slightly tipsy from the fancy bottle of wine they had splurged on for their anniversary dinner, and they kept tripping over each other, a whirling mess of smiles. They covered for the first years' lines with their best Shinobu and Tetora and Midori impressions, although Chiaki couldn't keep his cool when Kanata pouted and deadpanned the Ryusei Green catchphrase. They were both thinking the same thing – wondering where their kids were now, if they were singing the same songs in their own apartments.
Their silly waltz lead them into the living room slash bedroom, where they collapsed onto the creaky apartment mattress, one of Kanata's hands occupied by Chiaki's and the other still clutching the house keys. Had he remembered to lock the door behind him? He was too sleepy, too giggly to tell. He watched the harmonic rise and fall of Chiaki's chest as his laughing subsided, sprawled out next to Kanata.
"Kanata, I'm so happy," he whispered excitedly. "We can make this our home base. We can tidy up and decorate together – I've saved up money and we could get a desk or fish or whatever you want. And we can watch the tokusatsu marathons together on Sundays. And –"
Kanata had already drifted off by the time Chiaki looked back at him. He looked peaceful in his sleep, even more than he usually did, a lingering hint of a smile on his lips.
Chiaki paused, then got up, flicking off the lamp and leaving only the window's moonlight to illuminate them. They were both still in their date attire, actually, and sweaty from dancing. But those were all tomorrow morning's problems now. Chiaki climbed back into bed, pulling the covers over them both, and planted a kiss to Kanata's forehead.
"Goodnight, Blue."
–––
Falling into routine with Chiaki was easy. Like he had promised, they spent the first week deciding on home decor. Fairy lights above their nightstand; several old Ryuseitai promo posters (none from their first two years - they would rather forget); flowers; a beanbag cushion shaped like a blobfish (Kanata's decision). Due to their inability to disagree with each other, the apartment ended up looking like a terrible mesh of Super Sentai propaganda and a marine biologist's private collection. It was objectively tasteless, but it felt perfect to them, so who was to blame?
It was nothing compared to the Marine Life Club's extensive aquarium at Yumenosaki, but Kanata managed to get two small fish – two bettas, one gorgeously dark and one a brilliant yellow. Souma and Kaoru. When Chiaki asked why they couldn't be in the same tank, Kanata laughed. "'Souma' and 'Kaoru' do not get along. They are bettas... 'fighting fish.' It is true to 'real life,' don't you think?"
Finding work was hard, even with an impressive Yumenosaki transcript – employers were turned away by Chiaki's enthusiasm, and it was hard to get Kanata up and motivated to find a job. They managed, though, pooling their meager paychecks from various odd jobs to buy frozen meals and pay rent. Never broke enough to worry about putting food on the table, but never rich enough to afford luxuries. A jar of loose change appeared one day on the counter labeled Trip Funds. "One day we'll hit it big," Chiaki promised, eyes shining, "and we'll have enough to go to London, or New York, or the Bahamas!"
Kanata learned to love the weekend mornings, when light filtered through the curtains in radiant beams across their shared bed. Kanata wasn't much of a late sleeper, but no one was more of a morning person than Chiaki – his internal clock was set strictly for sunrise. The divot that Chiaki left in the mattress retained some of his warmth, and Kanata sprawled his legs across it, greedily soaking up the cozy early-morning heat of the blankets.
Kanata could hear the dull patter of water from the shower coming from his left, accompanied by an embarrassingly loud singing. Chiaki needed no instrumental for his acapella shower covers, belting out the lyrics with a practiced confidence. Kanata assumed – no, he knew that Chiaki made equally embarrassing poses with the showerhead during his performances. Giggling to himself at the thought, Kanata turned on his side, letting his bangs drape over his forehead.
When Chiaki emerged from the shower, a puff of steam followed him out from the bathroom doorway. Kanata snuck a peek from just behind the comforter, watching Chiaki ruffle his damp hair and pull on an overshirt. When Chiaki turned towards the bed, Kanata closed his eyes quickly, pretending to still be asleep. His breathing slowed, matching the quiet steps of Chiaki's slippers on the carpet.
He could feel that Chiaki was close to him now. Even with his eyes closed, Kanata could imagine his gentle smile, the one reserved just for him – the way he leaned down and studied Kanata's eyelashes. The silence was unusual, but not unappreciated.
A moment passed before Kanata could feel Chiaki's slightly chapped lips press a light kiss to his forehead. It tickled, a little bit – he was never good at keeping a straight face, his own mouth curling up in a smile.
"You were awake, weren't you?"
Kanata could feel pricks of water from Chiaki's still wet-hair hit his cheek. He cracked his eyes open and smiled wider at his roommate leaning over him. "Yes."
"You little..." The brunette poked Kanata's cheeks playfully. "Divine punishment! Squish, squish, squish..."
"Nooo!" Kanata lightly batted at the assailant's hands. Then he pouted. "Ten more minutes, Chi~a~ki..."
"Fine, fine. I'll go make breakfast – Kanata?"
Kanata's laugh sparkled as he pulled on Chiaki's arm, beckoning him back into the warmth of the bed sheets. "It's 'cold,' Chiaki, sleep with me."
"What am I going to do with you?"
Despite his protests, Chiaki did end up snoozing the extra ten, burritoed under the covers with his boyfriend. Kanata buried his face in Chiaki's chest, his shirt still damp from residual shower water. He could feel Chiaki's heartbeat.
(He might have imagined that it sped up when Kanata held him tighter. It turns out Chiaki was only a confident hugger on the giving end.)
–––
Kanata had had this kind of dream before. The kind where the waves lapped at his feet urging him to come back; the kind where he'd shed a biolescent scaly skin to become human; the kind where oxygen wasn't enough to breathe, where he suffocated in the unfamiliar hallways of the school. He always woke up slightly dizzy, slightly sad, maybe even a little anxious, a disturbance in his tranquil mental pond.
It was always hard to rein reality back in. He took a second to feel his own breath on his hands, to squint at the alarm clock, to wiggle his toes, and to listen to Chiaki's light snoring next to him. Then he got up, stepping lightly and following a trail of fairy lights to the bathroom, where things felt much safer.
The bathroom window sufficed as a source of light, he decided – anything brighter would have been harsh on the eyes. He stared at himself in the mirror, playing with his reflection and stretching the bags under his eyes, still heavy from sleep. Looking back briefly to make sure Chiaki was still sound asleep, he drew a lukewarm bath, stripped down, and stepped in.
The relief was instant. The water was so calming, so inviting – nothing like the persuasiveness of the ocean, but close enough. Kanata had to stop himself from completely submerging, reluctantly content with the water up to his neck. He danced his fingers along the surface, creating hypnotic rings of ripples. He could get lost in those patterns forever.
He stayed like that for a while, knees tucked up to his chest, his breathing steadying to its normal rhythm. It was only when he heard a drowsy grunt from the other room – Chiaki getting up, he supposed – when he dared move.
It was as he suspected. Chiaki peeked into the doorway, eyes clouded with both fatigue and confusion. "Kanata," his voice was raspy with neglect, “what are you doing up so late? It's, like, 2AM..."
"I'm sorry if I woke you up, Chiaki. I just wanted to be 'in the water.'"
Chiaki's eyes suddenly softened. "Bad dream?"
Kanata nodded. "However, it is 'fine' now... there is no need to worry."
The other boy fell silent, sitting down on the cold tile floor next to the bath. Kanata didn't mind seeing him like this – tousled hair dappled by the moonlight, a gentle expression, collarbone slightly exposed from his loosely-fitting nightshirt. It was the exact opposite of what Chiaki was supposed to be – bright, firm, the fire that lead everyone forward.
"Kanata," he began again, voice more clear now, "I'm sorry. I was being selfish again when I asked you to move in with me. I don't really understand, but, you're a long way away from home, aren't you?"
Amber eyes bored into green, searching for an answer, but there was none to be found. He had always tried to understand Kanata's enigma of a personality, and honestly, if Kanata knew what he was or why he felt like he did Chiaki would be the first person he'd tell.
But he didn't know. All he knew is that he didn't regret it one bit – as long as he could sleep cuddled up to Chiaki in their half-Sentai, half-fish-flavored apartment 200 feet above the ground, he wouldn't need water to breathe.
"Chiaki, you silly." He karate-chopped Chiaki's forehead. "I'm already 'home.'"