Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At 17:10 local time the flight from Tokyo descended down over the Bangkok airstrip. Already the sun hung low in the sky, but a heat haze still buzzed on the horizon. To the west, the massive city itself was barely visible through a layer of smog. Over the dull hum of the plane’s engines, a bright jingle rang out. 

"This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has been switched off."

Kota Ibushi yawned and stretched his legs as far as they could go under the seat in front of him. He turned to his right and smiled when saw his tag team partner sitting beside him. Kenny smiled back.

...

Chapter Text

"This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has been switched off."

Chapter Text

"This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has been switched off."

Kota snapped awake, body jerking with the shock of the sudden reset. Juice Robinson sitting in front, turned around in his seat to see what the fuss was, peering through the gap between the chairs. Kota realized he had kicked the seat in front of him so hard that his foot hurt. His insides writhed with an overwhelming sickness and hunger all at once. It was disorienting.

His body had been crammed back in the window seat once more. Kenny was looking over at him baffled.

"Are you okay?"

"No," Kota grumbled. The cold was back, spreading over his skin and chilling all the way through to the bones.

... 

The same air hostess handed him the same mint with the same cheerful welcome. Kota accepted it glumly and exited the plane for the third time.

A clatter rang out from behind as they made their way up the jet bridge. Jay White was elbowing people out if the way to escape the plane. He pushed past Kenny and Kota, running as fast as he could through the throng.

"What was that about? Wait! Ibushi!" Kenny yelled from behind as Kota raced after Jay.

He had to find out why this was happening, and that little shit had all the answers. Kota ran at full speed through the tunnel leaving people shouting in his wake but when he arrived at the security checkpoint, Jay was nowhere to be seen. The man had utterly vanished.

"What happened?" Kenny asked, catching up with him. He had brought Kota's carry on case with him. He looked worried and Kota felt a small pang of regret for running off without a word.

"I'll tell you," said Kota grimly, "but let's get through security first."

...

Repeating the day once could have been a dream, or a freak hallucination but this was something else. Kota had never been too good with the supernatural. Ghosts were one thing, he could believe there might be ghosts. Maybe. And there were bound to be aliens out there somewhere, that was just mathematics. Though they probably weren't involved in trapping him here. It had to be a curse of some sort. That or he was going mad. Until yesterday he'd thought believing in curses was mad. Kota supposed he didn't have a choice, he could go mad believing a magic spell had trapped him here, or he could skip straight to admitting he had lost it. Kenny could take him to the hospital tomorrow. Once he got to tomorrow.

"Well if you're reliving the same day over and over can you do that Groundhog Day thing where you tell me about all the people in the airport?"

"I haven't seen Groundhog Day," Kota said testily, "and I don’t know any of these people, they’re all strangers. Why would they want to talk to me?"

"I guess." Kenny begrudged. "If you can remember, why can't I?"

Kota was finding himself getting supremely irritated with Kenny. Yesterday he had believed what Kota told him, or at least put in the effort of pretending to. Today he was turning out to be a much harder sell.

"Jay White... He uh..." Kota wavered. Divulging this was going to be akin to throwing a bomb on the conversation. He gritted his teeth and did it anyway. "He kissed me, it felt pretty weird even at the time and now I’m stuck here.”

The air got colder, and Kota couldn't pretend not to guess why. Kenny didn't speak for a while. They wove in and out of shops Kota had already looked at twice before. The worst thing was that there was a perverse satisfaction in making Kenny feel jealous. Kota stamped on the feeling as best he good.

Casting around for anything to break the silence he found a distraction in the form of Hiromu Takahashi. Noticeable even away from his companions, he was lying underneath a row of plastic chairs. Head and shoulders safely tucked away but legs kicking off into the path of people passing by.

“What is he doing?” Asked Kota.

They crept closer to see a pack of crayons splayed out in front of him on the floor.

“He’s making another of those little books!” Kenny realized with excitement, “Hey that’s a photo of Marty!”

Hiromu must have sensed he was being watched or heard their whispers because he bounced up in alarm at being discovered, and hit his head on the bottom of the chairs. He hissed and scrambled to collect his art supplies, darting off into the crowd to escape their prying eyes.

“I guess I should tell Marty to watch out,” Kenny muttered.

Kota thought it was an offhand remark not requiring a response, but Kenny was looking at him, unsure, testing.

“Do as you feel.” It wasn’t Kota’s job to get between Kenny and his friends. The less he could involve himself with the Bullet Club the better.

“Marty is really a good guy.” Kota had been under the impression that he and Kenny weren’t on speaking times. “He’s a nice dude when you get to know him.”

Kota made a noncommittal noise. Kenny was still watching him. Waiting for the sword to drop. Kota fixed his eyes on the direction they were walking.

“He’s just easily influenced y'know?” continued Kenny, unable to let a bad topic die.

“And that’s a good quality? Because he turned on you as quickly as the rest,” snapped Kota with a bitterness he found that he couldn’t keep out of his voice.  Kenny made a face like he’d been slapped. Kota didn’t feel bad, he’d been fishing for it.

Kota wasn't keen to go to the sofas again today. He and Kenny alone, both in foul moods, was a recipe for awkward silence at best and more bickering at worst. He glanced to the side, Kenny wasn't looking at him. He had choices still to make.

“In any case, I’ve figured out how to prove I’ve done this day before.”

Kota’s plan would have gone better, had he considered that Jay White was aware of the day resetting. Evidently, he had better places to be because he wasn’t at the Starbucks when Kota dragged Kenny there a little after 8 o’clock. He didn’t show up in the half hour after that either.

“Are you sure this is the right time?”

“I’m sure.”

“Do you mind if I go over there and charge the switch?” Kenny indicated a plug on the wall.

“You do that,” said Kota stone-faced. “I’m going to go walk around for a bit.”

Kenny immediately attempted to back pedal.

“It’s fine the battery still has some power left. I’ll come with you.”

“I’ll meet you at the gate,” Kota said firmly.

“Attention passengers, Flight LH304 to London Heathrow will be delayed until 22:20. We apologize for the delay."

“…In two hours.” He didn’t give Kenny the opportunity to argue, turning on his heel and striding away before any protest could be made. He needed to track down Jay White.

...

Walking alone in the vast inside space Kota felt adrift in the best of ways. He let out a long breath and walked without thought about which direction he was going. Tension ebbed away that he hadn’t even realized was there. The sun had set outside the airport and all Kota could see beyond the lit runway where the distant lights of Bangkok. No stars hung in the sky outside, above glass and steel.

The relationship between Kenny and the Bullet Club bothered him. And he wasn’t referring to Chase Owens or the Tongans, although he wouldn’t have dreamed of making that distinction four months ago. Even more than Cody, what bothered Kota were Scurll and the Jackson brothers. The appeal of the Bullet Club was lost on Kota, but Kenny must see something there. The Bucks and Cody were not travelling with them, they were coming from the other side of the world, but they would be in London.

The Jackson brothers had a lot of faults in Kota’s opinion. But their most damming was the way Kenny’s face fell whenever he saw them. The way his eyes turned wistful. 

The stale air of the airport was starting to get to his head.

Being alone did help but it felt bad to admit it. Alone he could decompress in a way not possible otherwise. He supposed that counting the three repeating days, this was the longest uninterrupted time he’d spent with Kenny in years. It had already been over twenty-four hours in his company. Over the last months something had always been there, appearances, appointments that broke up the time, forcing them to separate. Maybe that was all that was keeping them going. Kota shook his head and tried to dismiss the thought. Being overly maudlin was Kenny’s thing. It wasn’t in Kota’s nature to think like that. He needed to get his head clear, figure out how to leave the airport and then they could sit down and have a proper conversation. Right. 

Jay White wasn’t at Starbucks. Perhaps he’d tried to kiss someone else? What had made him leave the plane in such a hurry today? Kota decided to walk through the main concourse and question any wrestlers he might come across. Easier said than done, they were fewer than fifty in an airport of five thousand. Fortunately, when he did happen across them they were hard to miss. Outside a café Kota saw two familiar faces. The first wearing his signature orange jacket, the second more hairspray than man.

Hiroshi Tanahashi spotted him from a distance and waved him over. Kota considered walking on but that would be rude, besides, they could have information.

“Ibushi-san!” Tanahashi greeted him with a toss of his hair. “How is the journey treating you?”

“Badly,” he confessed. “Have either of you seen Jay White?”

“Not recently,” said Tanahashi. “Is it urgent? Come and sit with us for a bit.” Kota sat, feeling there was no way to refuse the invitation politely. Kushida ordered him a coffee. It was already close to nine o’clock.

“Do you two know why our flight got delayed?” They shook their heads.

“It’s annoying but it can’t be helped,” Kushida said. Kota eyed him critically, if there was someone to ask about his situation he supposed Kushida would be that person. The guy was a bit odd but it was worth a shot.

“Kushida do you anything about time loops?”

“What kind?” asked Kushida with immediate interest. Kota shrugged. “Well, like Terminator? Or like Groundhog Day?”

“The second one.”

“Well,” Kushida began. “That’s less of a loop and more of a reset. There isn’t any real time travel. The day resets but nothing breaks the laws of physics. The whole film might just be a dream.”

“Well let’s say it’s not a dream, how does the person escape it?”

“That’s a bit of a tough question actually,” mused Kushida. “He’s kind of a sad, angry man and he has, like, a realization that he’s finally happy.”

“That’s crap,” said Kota. “Why would that fix anything?”

“If that’s the way you feel,” Kushida shrugged. “It’s more about him learning his lesson than proper science fiction. That’s why it’s only my ninth favorite time travel movie.” Kota got the feeling that asking Kushida to speak on this subject, was akin to asking Kenny his opinion on the strengths and weaknesses fighting game characters. Once you got them going it was a one-man conversation with the potential to never end.

Tanahashi was looking over at him with pity.

“Where has that partner of yours gone?” he asked.

“I’m meeting him back at the gate,” said Kota carefully. Tanahashi’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s about him becoming a good person too,” Kushida continued. That didn’t sound useful.

“What else could cause a time loop?”

“Maybe someone with supernatural powers? Or technology from the future,” said Kushida happily, as if these happened all the time. Maybe in Kushida’s life they did.

The coffee finally came, and he took a sip. Aside from jerking awake every afternoon on the plane Kota realised he hadn’t slept properly in more than twenty-four hours. His mind hadn’t slept anyway. He felt a rush of gratitude to Kushida for the drink.

“Someone huh?”

If there was a person behind this, then the situation was easily resolved no matter the methods used to create it. Kota would find them, kick them in the face, and they would rethink their actions. He just needed to find the person in question.

“Ibushi-san,” Tanahashi nudged him and pointed. “There’s your man.” For a moment Kota thought he meant Kenny and searched the direction indicated with confusion, then he saw who Tanahashi was referring to. Jay White was outside an ice cream store talking to El Desperado and Yoshinobu Kanemaru.

Kota thanked Tanahashi and Kushida, the latter of the two seeming heartbroken the conversation had to end. Leaving his coffee half-drunk Kota sidled closer to the trio, taking care not to be seen.

“…It doesn’t matter. If the boss wants to talk you then you gonna go talk to him. Understand?”

“But why does he want to see me?”

“Who fucking knows?” El Desperado rolled his eyes. “Come while we’re still asking you nicely yeah? I got my own shit to do.”

Jay relented and followed the two Suzuki-gun members down the eastern concourse. What with the crowd and Kanemaru making two stops at bars along the way it was a good thirty minutes before they finally got where they were going. Kota was starting to feel impatient, but he stayed at a safe distance so as not to be spotted.

A phone rang, and El Desperado answered it. He must have an impressive roaming plan. Kota didn’t dare switch his phone on in foreign countries unless it was an emergency. El Desperado nodded and hung up.

“Over there.” He jerked his thumb and all three went into a men’s bathroom.

Kota waited for them to come out. He checked his watch, and he checked it again ten minutes later when El Desperado and Kanemaru came out and went on their way. Of Jay White there was no sign.

There was nothing for it. Kota pushed the door to get in, but something was blocking it. He pushed again and felt a little bit of give. He took three steps back, ran up and kicked the door off its hinges.

Everyone looked up as Kota crashed through. The two Suzuki-gun members had multiplied. Inside the bathroom were Archer, Smith, Zack Sabre Junior and Suzuki himself. Jay White was lying on the floor and so was a dark red puddle of his blood.

“Ibushi?” asked Zack in disbelief right before Kota hit him with a savage kick to the head.

“Hey!” Kota swung a second kick at Suzuki, but the crafty old man ducked and lunged forward to catch Kota’s arms. He only managed to grab one, but his grip was like steel and he yanked Kota’s arm making him lose his footing and tumble forward. Suzuki got him in a headlock and Kota had time to see Zack Sabre Junior lying unconscious on the floor.

One down at least.

Kota drove them both backwards until Suzuki was stuck between him and the wall. The old man let go but went straight for Kota’s arm again as soon as he was free. Kota dodged back to get some space and collided with Archer who wasted no time in pulling his hair and kneeing him in the back. It was a solid blow and Kota’s whole body shook from it, he spun around, a master at ignoring pain and shoved Archer back into a wall of sinks.

On the floor Jay White was stirring.

Suzuki’s arms wrapped around Kota’s neck and he was back in a headlock again.

“Why are you getting involved?” Growled the older man. “You’re usually such a free spirit. How many stray dogs are you going to collect?” Kota grappled with Suzuki’s arms, but they were hard and twisting like the branches of a willow. Struggling he managed to get a leg out in front of him and pushed his whole weight back. He stole a precious gasp of air before the arm locked back down around his neck. Smith stalked in front of him and punched him right in the gut. Taka was laughing but he stopped when he saw that Zack was still on the floor.

“Boss... Zack’s out.” Smith hit Kota in the stomach again.

“No need for us to continue.” Murmured Suzuki in Kota’s ear. “Although it would be my pleasure to do so. Give me back what this little rat stole, and I’ll gladly see the back of you both.”

Kota found some purchase on the tiles and got his knee up to kick Smith in the stomach. Then he dropped down with as much force as possible and tried to lift Suzuki up to roll him over his back. The angle was bad, and Kota was still struggling for oxygen.

Suddenly he felt another body slam into Suzuki behind him.

It was Jay, blood still streaming down his face. Kota slipped free and kicked one of the faucets on the big bank of sinks. It came off with a satisfying pop and a spout of water burst out, drenching everyone. Kota grabbed Jay White’s arm and they ran from the bathroom.

“Let’s get to the gate.” Panted Kota. Jay White nodded and they both ran down the concourse. El Desperado and Kanemaru had walked them almost the entire length of the airport. Kota checked the time, it was almost ten. They would make the gate in time. Lance archer and Davey Boy Smith were still following them.

“Wait! The kiss!” Jay exclaimed. “It did work!”

“Don’t stop! They’re still behind us!”

“You remember!” Jay White looked like seven Christmases had come at once.

“We can talk later!”

Kota chanced a look back. Lance Archer was still running after them, Smith was lagging by a few yards, probably suffering from the kick to his stomach. Kota was certainly feeling the impact of Smith’s punches to his own. They were close to the gate now. They took the escalator down a floor and rushed to the travellator. Smith and Archer disappeared out of sight. They stopped to catch their breath, letting the walkway carry them along.

“Jay. What the fuck is going on?”

Jay shrugged. “I have no idea. I didn’t steal anything from Suzuki, why would I?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kota said grimly.

“I don’t know much about that either.”

“Well you must know something,” Kota said with impatience. “How many times have you repeated the day?”

“Six.” Jay confessed, trying to check out his battered reflection in the glass alongside them.

“And you don’t know what’s caused it?”

“No.”

“Well, how did you know to kiss me then?” asked Kota, frustrated.

“I got kissed too but they put a blindfold on me. I never saw who it was. I just wanted to know if it would work on someone else.”

“Approaching the end of the walkway,”  came the automated voice.

The gate was in front of them and Archer and Smith were still nowhere in sight. Kenny was waiting next to it. He waved to Kota and then glared at Jay. Oh. Right.

“You’re soaking wet!”

“Yes,” Kota agreed. “Do you have any extra clothes?”

“I have your whole carry on case,” Kenny grumbled. “So if you have extras in there then take them.”

Kota blushed. He had forgotten he left it behind again. He did have an extra t-shirt but there was no replacement for his sodden jeans. At least he was better off than Jay, who was forced to stand awkwardly with water and blood dripping off him onto the white marble floor. He had a gash on the side of his head and it was coming out of his mouth too. Kota made a feeble attempt to wipe Jay’s head clean with his wet t-shirt. Kenny looked unimpressed.

“I let you run off for two hours and you come back like this?”

“My apologies,” said Kota with a mock bow. “Thank you for looking after my stuff.” He flashed Kenny a smile and the other man wilted.

“What happened to you?”

“It was a Suzuki-gun ambush,” speaking of, Archer and Smith had arrived at the gate, also dripping wet, and fuming. Kota glanced around. There were too many airport staff close by to risk a fight.

“I think we’re safe now.” Jay voiced what Kota was thinking. “It’s not worth it to attack us here. They think they can just wait till we get to London. Fools!” Jay sounded like he was getting some of his fire back. That was a shame, he’d been almost tolerable for the last half an hour. “But I know the truth and now you do too. We’ll never get to London!”

Kota and Kenny exchanged looks.

“Okay,” said Kenny. “I’m getting on the plane now,” and he went to join the line. Kota lingered.

“Jay you’ve been round six times, right? Do you have any idea what’s causing it?”

“I told you before! I don’t. I know one thing for sure though.”

“What?”

“You and I aren’t the only one repeating, there’s at least one other, maybe more. Some stuff was different every time, I thought it could be a butterfly effect from me. So, on the fourth loop I repeated everything I did on the third.” His eyes glinted in triumph. “On the fourth loop the plane wasn’t even delayed! It took off at nine o’clock. Even though I did everything the same!”

“Final call for passengers boarding flight to London Heathrow.”

Kota squelched into line, trying to ignore the unpleasantness of his wet jeans. Jay shivering next to him put his discomfort into perspective. Archer and Smith moved into place behind them.

“Watch your back in London. It can be a dangerous city,” warned Smith, teeth glinting.

...

Kota flopped down next to Kenny, stretching his legs, determined to enjoy having the aisle seat while he could. The engines of the plane were already starting to whir.

“You never explained why you’re so wet.” Kenny's voice was still sour. Kota found that even if he'd wanted to, he couldn’t summon any animosity of his own. Kenny was Kenny, and even after a short separation, Kota’s heart leapt to be beside him.

“We fought Suzuki-gun in a bathroom.”

“‘We’ huh?”

“Don’t be like that.” They sat in silence for a minute or two. It was going to be a long flight. Well, actually it wasn’t. He could have another go at convincing Kenny tomorrow and hopefully do better at it.

“Yesterday you believed me,” said Kota. “Why do think it’s bullshit today?” Kenny hesitated and then shook his head.

“I don’t know Bu-san, I’m in a mood I guess.”

You’re always in a mood, Kota didn’t say. Kenny looked to be on the edge of spitting something out, something important, and Kota felt powerless to help him. The plane sped along the runway, preparing to take off.

“If you’re thinking something. Please say it,” said Kota. There wasn’t much time left.

“I just...” Kenny took a breath. When he did speak the words came out small and choked with frustration. “...I don't like it when you leave me behind.” He wasn’t looking at Kota. Eyes locked on the seat in front of him, fingers clenched.

Ah.

“Then I won’t,” he promised.

Before he could think too much, or at all. Kota followed his instincts. He reached up gently to turn Kenny’s face to his own and kissed him on the lips.

Kenny looked so surprised. Kota’s heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, looking into his wide eyes, it was as if he’d gone back in time ten years.

“What-?” Kota cut him off again, if this didn’t work, he might as well make the most of the rest of the day.

Chapter Text

The apprehension coursing through Kota’s blood had not totally dispersed when time snapped him back into his seat on flight XJ702. For a moment he kept his eyes closed. Not wanting to open them and see Kenny smiling unknowingly next to him for a fourth time. Not wanting to see the sparkling prison that was waiting on the ground below. The cold was back seeping itself over his skin but his exhaustion was so overwhelming, even that eerie sensation couldn't persuade him to move. His limbs were lead weights at the bottom of a riverbed. Untouched by currents or tides. Waves on the surface of the running water as unreachable as the stars in space.

“Ibushi wake up!”

Kota blinked and opened his eyes. Kenny shook his shoulder. “Wake up! We’re back! Look we’re back on the other flight!” Kenny’s words fired out in short fast bursts of confusion and Kota felt an incredible relief swell at no longer being alone.

The kiss had done its job. Kota had kept him.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice still raspy from sleep, “I did tell you.”

“God I’m just so sorry I didn’t believe you!” Kenny positively gushing with apology. “This is crazy!”

“It’s fine.”

Kota was stuffed into the window seat again, leg room gone but his wet, bloodstained clothes were good as new. Dry and clean as though nothing had happened at all. Kota supposed that it hadn’t really. The only left over was his memory, and now Kenny’s as well.

“How? How is this happening!? Honestly I’m sor-”

"It’s fine," Kota repeated yawning wide. All he wanted was to lie back and sleep some more. Kenny's hand was clutched onto the on the armrest between them in a death grip and Kota put his hand over it, loosening Kenny's fingers to interlock with his own. His skin was so warm and Kota was shivering. He pulled Kenny's hand to his chest and hugged it close. “Let me sleep for a bit.”

“Sure, yeah! Okay!”

“This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has been switched off.” 

Kota groaned and shoved the complimentary blanket over his face. Next to him Kenny was practically vibrating with unasked questions. The man simply couldn't sit still and every time he shifted in his seat the arm Kota was hugging onto would jostle and disturb him. Sleep was unlikely. But letting go was unthinkable. Kenny's arm was warm and alive, and Kota wanted it close.

When he'd kissed Kenny yesterday he'd done so without a second thought. Now those thoughts came for him with a vengeance. He was falling down the slope again, tumbling into the trap.

He dropped Kenny’s hand back onto to the armrest between them.

Kenny looked excited, almost hopeful. Although that could be the dubious thrill of reliving the same day twice, Kota thought. This was just the sort of thing that a shameless geek like him would find enjoyment in. 

Outside the grey sky did nothing to disperse the overwhelming heat in the air. Kota missed the freshness of the outdoors. The taste of the Bangkok air as they went from the plane to the airport building was hot and stifling but Kota relished it nonetheless.

Jay White, head repaired and all teeth back present and correct inside his mouth swaggered up to them in the security hall. Kenny's displeasure was plain on his face. As Jay approached, Zack Sabre Jr bumped into him from behind. Jay paled, and his feet moved to a defensive stance, but his moment of fear was unfounded. Zack ignored him, and he and the rest of his stablemates walked on past as if Jay were no more remarkable than an ant. 

“They’ve forgotten everything!” Jay crowed.

“Why did they think you stole from them?” asked Kota, fighting his exhaustion up the ramp and onto the smooth surface of the terminal.

“Yesterday I went out of the tail end instead of the front. I thought it might be faster, but it wasn’t. I’m so sick of being in this fucking queue!” Kota nodded and yawned. “Anyway, I went right past where their gang was. But I didn’t do anything else.” Kenny was still glaring daggers at Jay who finally noticed and actually flinched a little in alarm.

“You remember too? How come? Oh. Oh...” Jay realized the answer before either of them could reply and hopped back a step. “Sorry, I... I didn’t think.”

A blush spread across Jay White’s face, but it was soon followed by a stern look of disapproval and Kota remembered Jay’s warning to him on that first day.

They all walked together over to the rightmost line. A charge was building in the air. Kota leaned against a metal pillar and stifled another yawn with his hand.

“How long has it been since you slept properly? For you I mean.” Kenny asked him.

“At least twenty-four hours.” Kota admitted. He was starting to feel slightly dizzy. “I’ll get a coffee. We have to focus on getting out of the airport.”

"I slept most of yesterday before Suzuki-gun found me." Jay interjected.

"Great. Awesome for you," said Kenny. “Any idea what we do now? What’s our next objective?”

Kota shook his head.

"There’s another person repeating the day. The one who blindfolded Jay and kissed him, we should find out who.”

“Makes sense,” said Kenny. “If I had to kiss him, I know I’d want to cover up his face too.”

“Fuck off.”

Kenny and Jay stretched themselves up to maximum height. Kota stepped back a little, as an indication to leave him out of it and bumped into a glowering Tetsuya Naito who had lined up behind. Hiromu Takahashi was chattering away next to him, swinging the Intercontinental title like a pendulum but he might as well have been talking to a haystack for all the response he was getting. The more he was ignored, the more the junior cheerfully persisted until Bushi clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him back to give their leader a bit of space. 

“Who would want to curse you specifically?” The conversation in front continued. “That’s really weird. It must be about something you did because if we’re going to be honest. That particular title? Not that much of a prize.” 

That’s not what he’d said when he held it. The cleaner had been all about his titles. Kota’s eyes shut. He tuned out of the conversation for the sake of his own sanity, letting the bickering between Kenny and Jay float past him and mingle with the chat from those around. His thoughts drifted back to what Kenny had said about not needing titles, and then at his enthusiastic answer to Okada’s challenge more recently. Kota didn’t care either way, he told himself. Kenny could do as he liked. But the inconsistency picked at him.

“Sure, it’s a title but is it worth ripping apart the space time continuum?” Kenny shook his head.

Jay looked a second away from committing murder.

The line was going slower than ever. Although that could be because Kota had already been through it four times. He tried to sit on top of his carry-on case, but it was too small to be comfortable. It tipped over and he staggered off. 

“Would you like to sit on my case, Star-san?” A voice floated from behind. Kota turned to see Hiromu’s cat-like smile, wide and white upon his mouth. Having been dissuaded from pestering Naito he had set his sights on a new prey.

A polite refusal was already forming on Kota’s lips, but the dizziness hit once more, and he swayed on his feet.

“I won’t bite.” Hiromu pushed the big suitcase closer. Kota sat down on it gingerly, not quite trusting that it wouldn’t be pulled away at the last second. He glanced at Naito in case he disapproved of this fraternisation with the enemy, but he was a man lost in his own thoughts. In contrast Hiromu circled Kota with the intense focus of an X-ray machine.

Kota closed his eyes and listened to Hiromu’s shoes pacing. He looped around and around a swarm of small noises. Tapping and scuffing the metal plate of Intercontinental belt against the floor as he circled.

"Hiromu,” came a warning voice. Deep but soft. Evil, Kota thought.

The pattering stopped for a minute, but only a minute and then Hiromu resumed his pacing. He orbited Los Ingobernables in endless circles. His hand reaching out to tag his faction mates as he went by, as if counting them over and over. Bushi and Evil both muttered half-heartedly at him to quit it. Sanada said nothing.

“Hiromu. Stop it,” came Naito's gruff voice in a tone not to be argued with. It was the first time he’d as much as looked at Hiromu since Kota arrived.

“I can’t help it!” protested Hiromu. Naito caught him by the elbow and tugged him back into place at his side. Hiromu bobbed up and down on his toes. Graduating to hopping from one foot to another on the spot.

“Hiromu!”

There were dark circles under Naito’s eyes that Kota hadn't been close enough to notice before. He’d had a rough few months, Kota reflected. Staying positive after a big loss was always difficult. Naito was a different man now, but the Naito that Kota had known before would have been heartbroken.

Hiromu stopped. Then he shuffled closer and closer to Naito until their shoulders pushed together. Naito did a sterling job of pretending that this wasn't happening right up until he was in danger of being bowled over by the weight of Hiromu's body. 

"Hiromu!"

“I need to move! I’m going to explode!”

“Then do so out of my presence.” Naito snatched the Intercontinental title and slung it across the floor at random like tossing a ball for a dog.

"Naito!"

Naito went back to ignoring him.

Hiromu huffed, tipped Kota off his suitcase and stomped his way into the line next door. Checking back frequently to make sure Naito couldn’t miss his flounce. Hiroshi Tanahashi was standing there, watching the events with a calculated disinterest. He flinched at the way Hiromu stepped on the strap of the Intercontinental title as he walked over, but he accepted him into the line nonetheless. Tanahashi patted Hiromu on the shoulder, then shot Naito a look that could only be described as smug.

He and Hiromu had been friendly before, Kota remembered. Back when Hiromu was a young lion.

Naito’s eyes narrowed, and he spat on the floor. For just a second Tanahashi’s expression flashed livid before he schooled it down to an aloof disapproval. Kota watched the ace pass the handle of his luggage over to Kushida who looked none too happy about Hiromu’s impromptu adoption into their number. 

With his seat gone, Kota swayed again as the light-headedness cut through him. What he really wanted to do was wrap his arms around Kenny’s shoulders and sleep on him like a koala, but he felt that might undercut the authority his partner was still trying and failing to assert over Jay White.

“…I didn’t realize you and Ibushi counted as a faction, unless you’ve time looped all the way back to January.”

“We aren’t a faction,” Kota cut in before anyone got the wrong idea. “We’re partners.”

“My mistake,” Jay folded his arms, glaring at Kenny. “Well, in that case you really aren’t a leader at all and I don’t see why I need to do anything you say.”

He was so young in some ways. Kota thought with an amusement he couldn’t help. The whole switchblade thing was so obvious, the black jacket, the dye job, the attitude. The similarities were too funny. Not that he’d tell either of them so right now. When Kenny had joined the Bullet Club, he and Kota had already stopped being on speaking terms, though it had taken a while after that for Kota to understand the reasons why. But he had watched Kenny, in his black jacket, with his dyed hair, with his new attitude. Watched him call himself the Cleaner. Watched him become the Cleaner. Kota shook the memories away.

He was jolted out of his dreaming by the sound of metal hitting the marble floor. Naito had thrown the Intercontinental title onto the floor with a mighty crash. Tanahashi was storming off and after taking a second to retrieve the poor belt, Hiromu bounded after him. The rest of Tanahashi’s entourage following on like little ducks. That meeting had ended as expected then.

...

The decision to split up was easily made. Jay White argued that they could cover more of the airport that way and Kenny was eager for any excuse to be rid of him. However, when Jay strode off to the east, Kenny was still twitchy, and Kota had his guesses as to why.

“So...”

“We aren’t splitting up,” Kota asserted. He grabbed Kenny’s hand and entangled their fingers. “You’re staying with me.” It came out more possessive than Kota intended. Kenny blushed pink, but he didn’t let go of Kota’s hand.

By now, Jay had claimed, he knew the movements of the airport like clockwork. Their mission was to keep track of the comings and goings of the people they saw. Jay would check through the notes and know if anyone was out of place. The actions of another time traveler would cause changes in the day as surely as ripples on a pond. But looking out for suspicious behavior was easier said than done. A guy with a suspicious nature, like Taichi, who they observed browsing suit jackets, was surely more suspicious when he wasn’t acting suspiciously. And as such, when he tried on a jacket, put his used tissue in the pocket and then put it back on the rack, they agreed it was disgusting but beneath mentioning.

The kiss also lay between them unmentioned. They had kissed since the reunion, on the forehead, on the cheek after a match. Easy uncomplicated kisses. It wasn’t the same. They hadn’t talked about those either. Kota looked up and caught Kenny staring at him. Something was shifting again between them, Kota could feel himself losing his footing. Kenny broke the moment and went back to surveying the airport. Only the tightness of his mouth betraying any awkwardness.

Kota remembered the first time he’d kissed Kenny Omega, fresh faced and desperate for it. That person was still there, buried beneath the surface of the man sitting next to him. He squinted until his vision blurred. He could almost see him. The blonde did make it easier. Maybe that’s why Kenny had dyed it back. 

“Why did you dye your hair?” he asked. Kenny played with it self-consciously. 

“Why? Does it look bad?”

“No,” Kota hurried to reassure him a little too fast. “But why?” 

“I just felt like a change.” Kenny didn’t meet his eyes.

It wasn’t the same anyway. Bleaching the dark parts had dried the hair out at the bottom and it wasn’t curling the same way as at the top. The hair was so brittle compared to how it had once been. Kota reached up and stroked his fingers through the ends. Kenny didn’t move to stop him.

He closed his eyes. Higher up the hair was same as it had been ten years ago. Thick with the corkscrew springs that never succumbed to any straightener. He lingered over the strands. They were inextricable in his mind from hot summers. From Kenny's determined phrasebook Japanese. His never-ending quests to little shops hidden on the backstreets of Tokyo. After a while, Kota stopped paying attention to what they were looking for. Some obscure game or other. He'd accompanied Kenny on these shopping trips until the novelty of his presence wore off. By then they were spending so much time together anyway that Kota was happy to let the hunt go on without him.

“Hey, are you falling asleep?” 

When Kota opened his eyes again, Kenny was there before him. Present Kenny with the lines of concern that never truly flattened out, with his tight lips and careful eyes. With his stillness. Embarrassment and hope flashing plain as day across his face. Kota dropped his hand. This was getting off track. He needed to focus.

“Almost.” Kota yawned. “Sorry, was there anything to write?” 

“Maybe you should sleep for a few hours. You don’t look…You look like you need it.” 

Kota shrugged.

“I want to get out of here.” 

“We don't need to rush,” said Kenny gently. “I can take care of this, and even if it takes another re-do to break out, we’ll end up at the same time, eventually right?”

“Wow! So irresponsible,” Kota teased, but he was in no hurry to meet with the Bullet Club either. Not only that. Kenny’s championship match with Okada loomed ahead like the end of a bridge to nowhere. Kenny had seemed so driven by it over the last weeks, running towards it with all his might. That need he had to give everything to his ambition rearing its head again. He always worked so hard. Hard not smart. Kota thought. Another thing that hadn’t changed in all the years Kota had known him. Kota got the feeling he wasn’t the only one who was tired.

“It won’t make any difference in the end,” Kenny fiddled with the pencil and paper in his hands.

Kota closed his eyes, but memories were there waiting for him again. This time with warm lips and electric touches. He opened his eyes. Better to stay in the present.

“What do those two think they’re doing?” Kenny was frowning in the direction of the F-Gates where Evil and Sanada were walking with purpose. “There’s nothing over there.” 

“There’s the ice-cream shop,” Kota remembered. “Hey! Everything sets back when we get on the flight, we could get as much ice-cream as we want!”

“How is that any different to your life normally?” said Kenny with mild resentment. He’d been on a strict diet ever since accepting Okada’s challenge. “They went past it.”

“So, let’s follow.”

Sanada and Evil finally stopped at the foot of a children's climbing frame. The structure stood nearly 20 ft high, proud and garish on the very edge of the west end of the concourse. The equipment consisted of a swing set and a lurid yellow air traffic control tower. At the top of it a long purple slide fed out, twisting and turning until it ended with a ball pit at the bottom. Below the control tower, but still connected, was a large purple plane. There were no children around right now. Evil and Sanada's presence saw to that.

Evil went to the bottom of the slide and appeared to speak into it. At first glance Kota saw nothing at the top, but after a few moments there was a rustle of movement. A glint of gold. Kota and Kenny crept forward, squatting behind a bank of leafy pot plants to keep out of view while they eavesdropped.

“Should we crawl up after him?” asked Sanada.

Both stood there for a long moment, perhaps considering the size of the entrance relative to their own enormous frames.

“No,” said Evil finally. “That would lead to defeat.”

Sanada nodded seriously and sat on a swing. The seat was far too small. 

Evil picked up a red ball from the pit below the slide and threw it up to the tower, getting it through a tiny porthole into the top section. It was a perfect throw, arcing through the air straight on target. He could have been one hell of a baseball player, Kota thought. The ball shot down the slide a minute later. It rolled all the way to the edge of the play area where Kota and Kenny were hidden. On it was a message written in scrawling black pen: ‘Keep out!!!’

Evil was looking at the tower as if sizing up a giant opponent. Sanada scuffed his foot back and forth as he swung. 

“You talk to him,” Evil said. “My words aren’t resonating.”

“Hiromu. Come down.”

Nothing.

Sanada shrugged and sat back on the creaking swing, content with his attempt. If Evil was annoyed at the lack of effort it didn’t show on his face. He reached into a plastic bag and got out a box of chicken. 

“A gift,” Evil lifted the box and waved it around in the air. For a moment a figure was visible at the top of the tower. Hiromu’s little face peeked out through the safety netting. “Come down and receive it?”

“I’m no fool Evil-san!” Hiromu shouted down. “Mr Intercontinental says you aren’t allowed up!” Evil continued to hold the box in the air and Hiromu’s voice wavered. “I guess you can send Ibushi-san up with it though. He’s hiding behind those plants.”

Giving up on the semblance of stealth, Kenny and Kota got up from their hiding place. 

“Give Ibushi-san the chicken, and back away from the playground,” ordered Hiromu.

Evil didn’t look surprised that he and Kenny had been following them. He just pushed the bag of chicken into Kota’s arms and he and Sanada did as they had been told.

A young family approached the playground. They took one look at Sanada and Evil and sped off again in the opposite direction. 

Bizarre as the situation was, Kota felt somehow compelled to follow it through. Reasoning that he owed Evil and Sanada anyway for keeping Jay away two not-quite-days ago, he set himself to the task.  

There was a safety net running up the one open side of the structure and scaling it would be the easiest way to the top. However there was no opening to get in that way. The people who built it hadn’t wanted anyone falling out. Kota would have to go up the ladder and through the little plane.

This would be no challenge to an under six, the maximum intended age for this feature. Unfortunately, Kota was nearly thirty-six and almost two hundred pounds, so it was a tight fit. Kota tried to remember at what point he had actually agreed to do this. He wriggled in between the child sized metal seats with considerable difficulty. Hiromu couldn’t be that much smaller than him? Could he? Perhaps his cat like tendencies extended to an ability to get through small gaps.

When he’d finally twisted his tired body through the tunnels and ladders and small spaces he got up to the little platform where Hiromu sat. He still had the intercontinental belt and was whipping it against the soft mat floor over and over.

Kota held out the chicken, and the junior dropped the belt and leapt up in delight. When he reached out a hand to take the bag, Kota could see the indents on his hands where he’d been gripping it hard enough to mark the skin.

“Is that the intercontinental title?” 

Hiromu hissed.

“I wasn’t going to touch it!” said Kota defensively.

“Mr Intercontinental’s been bad.” Hiromu growled. “You should stay away from him!”

For all his recent fears about his own mind, Kota was a little glad to have them put into perspective. Hiromu’s eyes were feral and his skin was shining with sweat.

“Didn’t you go off with Tanahashi earlier?”

“Only for a while,” said Hiromu. “He was looking at Mr Intercontinental.”

Kota did his best to not to look at Mr Intercontinental. Hiromu put the title over one shoulder and began to dig into the bag of food.

“Hey! Are you guys okay in there?” called Kenny from outside.

Kota leaned over to look through the net. The trio of spectators had crept closer to the climbing frame again. Kota glanced at Hiromu, but he was preoccupied with eating and didn’t make them move back.

“Yeah,” Kota called back.

“Does he still have the belt?” demanded Evil.

“…Yeah.”

Hiromu growled past a mouth full of chicken. 

Something about the belt was pulling Kota’s attention. His eyes were drawn to it with a magnetic force. It really was beautiful despite the scuff marks, Kota thought. The way it shimmered and shifted, it looked unreal in the small space. Like a black hole inside a telephone booth.  He felt dizzy again suddenly, a harsh reminder he was going on thirty hours without sleep.

“You can leave if you like Star-san,” said Hiromu, the picture of politeness as he licked a bone clean. “Thank you for bringing the food up.”

“What about you?”

“I have to stay here,” Hiromu was clutching the title to his face, his lips dragging over the metal as he spoke. If there had been sharp edges on it, Hiromu would have bled. “It’s safer.” 

Safe from what? His own faction? Kota lay back against the soft wall of the tower. It was nice up here, apart from the overwhelming smell of the fried chicken. Climbing back down would mean moving, and that didn’t feel appealing right now. With his eyes closed he could make out a faint ringing sound. It was high and musical, unchanging but mesmerizing nonetheless. Maybe Hiromu’s madness was catching because he could have sworn it was coming from the belt.

There was more conversation from down below.

“Why did you even send the chicken up? He would’ve probably come down for it.” Naito had arrived on the scene. He sounded tired too but there was an undercurrent of amusement.

“It was an act of good faith,” Evil said stubbornly. 

“Hiromu, come on.” Naito cajoled.

“No,” Hiromu called from above. “It’s not safe.”

“Don’t you trust your faction?” asked Kota.

“Something bad is going to happen,” Hiromu held the title even tighter. “Can’t you feel it?” For a few seconds Kota felt the weight of Hiromu’s full attention on him. His wild brown eyes searching Kota for an understanding he couldn’t give.

“Wait, are you talking about the time loop?” asked Kota.

“What?” Hiromu cackled. “Are you crazy Ibushi-san? Have you been talking to that idiot Kushida? No! I mean a bad feeling. Like a curse.” He pointed out of the net to the sky beyond the glass roof, it was darkening with the sunset and an army of thick clouds that gathered above.

“Hiromu come down! You’re going to miss the flight. I don’t see why you need Kota Ibushi up there either.” 

“Thank you for your concern!” yelled Hiromu. “But if it’s all the same to you I’m staying! It’s not safe down there!”

“Not safe from what?” said Naito. “It’s a fucking airport. Come down. Besides it’s safest to be together right?” Hiromu’s resolve faltered, his grip on the leather strap slackening.

“Do you promise?” he shouted down after a pause.

“I promise.” said Naito.

The whole tower lurched like it was sailing the high seas, Kota lost his balance and fell against the padded wall.

“Star-san? Are you sick?”

Kota wanted to sleep, for more than ten minutes, for hours. Suddenly a hand appeared, clutching onto the safety net on the side of the tower. Hiromu yowled and darted past Kota, scrambling out of his hiding place. The junior shot straight into the slide dragging the Intercontinental belt after him. Kota heard the two of them bump and clatter down to the bottom. 

He leaned over to look through the net. Kenny was there hanging off it, looking up at him with his clear blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Um...” Kota was momentarily rendered speechless. Kenny’s brow furrowed, and he climbed a little higher to be level with Kota. 

“Is it safe to be climbing up there?” Kota asked.

“No, we’re 20 ft up. Come down. Isn’t it ridiculous of you of all people to be concerned about that?” 

“Not when you’re the one climbing.” Kota scooted closer to where Kenny was hanging on to the netting. “You should go down.” 

“Are you coming down?” 

“Yes,” Kota agreed, making no movement to.

“Ibu-san snap out of it.” Kenny untangled one of his hands from where it was clinging on for dear life and pinched Kota hard on the arm. “Wake up!” 

“Only because it’s you.” A surge of fondness welled up inside Kota. He leaned forward and kissed Kenny’s fingers where they poked through the safety net. “You’re so handsome Kenny-tan.”

“Okay you're fine, I’m gonna climb down now,” said Kenny flushing. “See you at the bottom okay?” 

“Hey!”

He’d gone.

Kota did come down. Once he was moving again it was easier to keep everything in motion. Sitting down had been the mistake, he realized now. Once he got back on solid ground he paced back and forth to keep his pulse up. Kenny still looked a little pink. Kota flashed him a smile and he went pinker. 

Hiromu didn’t look happy to be back on solid ground but he stuck close to Naito, eyes darting around for danger. He wasn’t the only one who looked rattled. Naito wore his usual flat expression of mild irritation and Sanada was a stone faced as ever but Evil had the same eyes as Hiromu, searching for danger in every corner.

“Where’s Bushi?” Evil asked.

“I don’t know, he went to do something,” shrugged Naito. “I can’t be watching everyone all the time. Bushi can take care of himself.” Naito had a hand on Hiromu’s shoulder and was rocking him back and forth playfully.

Kota stopped moving to listen to what was going on and another steep wave of nausea caught up to him.

“Hey, let’s find somewhere you can sleep for a while,” said Kenny. He gently guided Kota away from the playground, and they walked up the concourse. Kenny's arm steadying around his middle.

“Those guys are kind of okay when you aren’t in the ring with them,” mused Kenny.

“As factions go,” Kota begrudged. “They’re all talented.”

“Yeah but it’s like, they really look out for each other.”

“Your guys didn’t do that?”

There was that expression. Kota shouldn’t have let himself get led into this conversation again. He shook his arms to make it clear he could walk without support and Kenny's hand on his waist retreated. 

“It’s not that we didn’t help each other. It’s more like no one could afford to look weak in front of the others. That’s why it was different. The Bucks and I...” Kenny’s arms were folded in front of his chest one hand gripping his own wrist in the way he sometimes did when self-conscious. “I felt like I could be myself around them. I didn’t have to pretend I was stronger than I was. We could be honest, and it was a good thing really because it meant we could protect each other better...”

Kota had stopped listening. In front of them a strange pair were carefully making their way across the concourse in the opposite direction. Headed straight for them.

Tanahashi was supporting Bushi, with a hand resting on the shorter man's shoulder. Even from a distance the trouble was clear. Bushi's arm was covered in stiff gauze and being held up in a sling fashioned expertly from a sweater.

Hiromu nearly knocked Kota over racing to Bushi’s side and the rest of the faction were close behind. The Intercontinental belt went flying as Hiromu tossed it aside in his haste.

“What happened!?”

“Suzuki-gun jumped me,” Bushi spat.

Evil looked resigned. When he reached them, Tanahashi passed the luchador over to Evil and turned to face Naito.

“You need to be on your guard,” he reprimanded.  

Naito ignored him and went to Bushi. The man was pale as a sheet. His arm was strapped tight into the sling by Tanahashi’s sweater. He wouldn’t be able to compete. Kota realized, heart dropping in sympathy. That was him out of the Best of the Super Juniors for sure.  

“That arm is fractured at best,” Tanahashi informed them. “If I wasn’t there it could have been much worse.”

Naito stone mask crumbled. Tanahashi watched it go with a palpable satisfaction. “You should always be more careful before the big tournaments. Bushi and Hiromu are top competition. You should stay by their side until the matches begin.”

“I don’t need your advice. I don't want your advice.”

Naito’s voice was composed. His face was not.

Tanahashi nodded.

“Well then.” He said and turned his back to Naito. “You can keep the pullover as long as you need it,” he told Bushi graciously. Before he left, Tanahashi picked up the Intercontinental title from where it lay on the ground and placed it in Naito’s arms.

Naito held it as he might a poisonous scorpion. It was the first time Kota had ever seen him really look at it or acknowledge its existence at all. The metal was shimmering, glowing as if it were molten. Sparks of color reflecting off it in shards of white and purple, red and green. All the light of the world looked to be contained within its heart. Naito looked at Bushi’s broken arm, at the back of Tanahashi as he walked away and finally at Evil who met his gaze with an expression of hopelessness.

Naito’s face contorted, and he swung the belt into a metal pillar. There was an unearthly crack and the strange light burned from the impact. 

“What the…?” gasped Kenny.

It didn’t look like any fire Kota had ever seen, more like the center of some white-hot star in its final moments. The title imploded in another flash and when the blinding light faded from Kota’s vision, all he could see below Naito’s foot was a pile of black ash. White sparks continued to flash behind Kota’s eyes and he suddenly was unable to hold himself up a second longer. He fell to the floor in a dead faint.

...

“Feel the mouth of the earth pulling you, let the vibrations guide your hand to obey your mental whims.”

Kota awoke to the overwhelming smell of stale smoke cigarette smoke. Over the top was a layer of incense that did nothing to disguise it. 

“I just don’t get how you’re doing this!” Kenny’s voice. 

“My connection with the temporal globe feeds my power. Go further back. In order to get the card in the hat you must rearrange the whole of reality.”

Kota didn’t want to move. He was lying on something soft and he really, really wanted to stay there. No matter how bad it smelled.  

“Don’t wake him,” the deep voice said. Too late. “Whether you board the plane or not, the temporal seal will soon activate.” 

“How much longer have we got?”

“By harnessing the potential energy in the room, I estimate the time now to be no later than 10:30.” 

“Yeah sure! You just read that on the board outside.” 

“Believe what you will.”

“It's just, it’s a lot to take in,” said Kenny, more diplomatically than Kota honestly knew he was capable of being. “Time travel, magic, wizards. It’s a lot in one day.” 

“I am not a wizard,” the voice said with tried patience. “I am the King of Darkness. My dark energy means I have power to…” 

“Yeah I know I know, I got that,” Kenny interrupted hastily. “What I don’t get is how it actually works.”

“It is not to be understood,” replied Evil coldly. 

The exhaustion still ached through his bones, but Kota knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep. He rolled over to see Kenny and Evil sitting cross legged on the floor. In between the two of them was a circle drawn out in chalk with strange symbols running around the edge. Surrounding the chalk drawings, flowers and herbs littered the floor.

Kenny dropped the sprig of lavender he was waving back and forth and bounded over to the sofa.

“Hey you’re awake!” Kenny offered to help him up, but Kota waved him off. “You dropped like a bag of bricks out there.” 

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

There was a dead rat in the middle of the chalk circle. Kenny had the decency to look embarrassed. Evil did not.

“We’re uh, we’re summoning the dead.” 

Evil shoved a sprig of rosemary at Kota, “Take this.”

Kota took it. On Kenny’s face was a wiry half-smile, clearly he wasn’t taking Evil seriously. The green finger lights did have a way of making the whole performance suspect. But in Kota’s experience he’d found that you never really knew.  

“We have about half an hour I think. Then the day will restart again. He’s uh… he knows about the whole time reset thing too.”

Evil was placing purple stones on the corners of the chalk lines. They looked identical to the ones that had been for sale in the gift shop. 

Kota rubbed his head and groaned. A headache was thrumming away behind his eyes. Kenny produced a bottle of cold water and Kota remembered how much he truly loved him.

Evil was muttering under his breath, strange words that Kota couldn’t quite hear. Kenny wasn’t helping anymore, choosing instead to hover around Kota with the bottle of water and anxious hands. Evil carried on regardless. His voice low and strange. A string of words Kota was pretty sure he was making up on the spot flowed uninterrupted and incomprehensible into the air. Maybe there was something to it though, because Kota could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped several degrees while Evil prattled on.

“Spirit! You are summoned from the dark!” he proclaimed.

“Is it an invisible ghost?” asked Kenny with amusement when nothing happened.

“It didn’t come,” said Evil, eyebrows narrowing in confusion. “I have to check something.”

Evil left the smoking room with a swirl of his black coat. As the door swung open, Kota caught a glimpse of rain falling outside. The door shut with a click, and they were alone.

Kenny settled in a heap on the floor. His back leaning against the base of the sofa. They both listened to the muffled rain in comfortable quiet until Kota woke up enough to sit up and stretch. He'd slept in a bad position and his neck was paying for it now. The room was small with three shabby couches. The one Kota was on seemed to exhale little puffs of dust and cigarette smoke as he re-positioned himself on it. He now saw that the whole floor of the room was strewn with stones of every color that glittered in the low light. Bunches of lavender had been placed in the corners. Evil and Kenny had really made a mess of the place.

“So, I was wondering,” Kenny said breaking the silence. “Do you think? Do you think you might need to kiss me again? You know, so I remember what happened today?”

He sounded so hesitant. Kota thought he would have left all shyness behind long ago.

“Better to be safe right?”

“Right,” Kenny whispered, but he didn’t move. Kota couldn't see his face and that made him nervous, though there was no one who he knew more thoroughly than the man at his feet.

“You may need to turn around,” Kota teased. Tugging at his shoulder in encouragement.

Kenny obeyed, twisting his warm body until he was kneeling up between Kota's thighs. His eyes were wide, unguarded and Kota’s nerves disappeared on the wind.

Kota leaned forward and kissed him softly. Once he'd started, Kota couldn't help but pull him in closer, wanting to feel the heat of that solid body against his own. It was so easy to pull Kenny up from his kneeling position and then down onto his lap. Even easier to bury kisses into his neck until he felt the breath catch in his throat.

He opened his legs wider to steady himself and pulled Kenny in close and tight until his whole weight pinned him in place. Pushing him down into the threadbare sofa. Kota ran his hands over the strong, firm muscle on Kenny's back, clinging onto his shirt and stretching the fabric out of shape. He wanted to hold on forever. Wanted to feel Kenny's blood racing under his skin.

He leaned back to take a breath and Kenny's mouth chased his, as if unable to bare any separation. He let out a whine, eyes half closed, and Kota couldn't help but laugh breathlessly at how unraveled he was. They'd hardly done anything.

"Do you think you'll remember now?"

Kenny's answer was to try and close in for another kiss. Kota held him off, shuffled back to get a better angle and then pulled him in once more. Kenny was pressed up against him in less than a second. Kissing him urgent and gasping while Kota's hands explored beneath his shirt. Kota felt himself losing control. Kenny's lips were undeniable. Each kiss begging Kota to take him further, to keep going. Kota bent his head down, putting his forehead against Kenny's, forcing a sliver of a gap between them. He couldn't think like this.

"Kota..."

There was no staying away. There was no safe distance. There never had been. Kota pressed another kiss to Kenny's mouth but as he did, a familiar cold began to rise around him. He held on tighter.

Chapter Text

The jolt of being snapped back into his seat wrenched through his whole body.

“Ow! Fuck!” Kenny winced.

“Yuck,” Kota agreed.

It felt like the whole process of sobering up, condensed into less than a second. Like all his bones had been ripped out, dunked in an ice bucket and then jammed back into his body slightly out of place. A raw, blistering hurt that itched into the core of every muscle. Next to him, Kenny was shivering and wringing his hands, apparently also trying to shuck off the feeling. Nothing like being ripped through time to break the mood.

“Does it always feel that bad?” Kenny rubbed the feeling back into his skin. “This is awful.”  

The thing was, Kota wasn’t sure that it had been. Yes, he’d been out of his mind with exhaustion yesterday which had made every small suffering worse. But on the first day he’d slept through the reset. It wouldn’t be possible to sleep through this.

“This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has been switched off.”

Kenny let out a long breath.

"Here we go again."

...

It was raining in little dribbles as the plane bumped down onto the tarmac, droplets stretching over the windows. The sky was overcast, and the air felt damp with more rain waiting its turn. As he disembarked the plane for the fifth time, Kota's attention was caught by a gruesome sight on the tarmac. It made him jump with the unease that comes from seeing a dead thing that’s been alive until mere seconds ago. The freshness of it alarming and terrible in a way that sterile bones lost over time.

It was a crow, or more accurately, half a crow.

Its broken little body lay dead and crumpled. Kota wondered with morbid curiosity what could have cut the unfortunate bird that cleanly in two. Its blood was pooling over the hot asphalt, soon to evaporate in the heat, leaving only feathers and bones to bleach in the sun. But that would have to be some other day. The sunlight was now thoroughly obscured by grey cloud and the air was heavier than ever.   

Jay White huffed with irritation when they met him at the top of the jet bridge.

“This plan can only work if you idiots actually follow it. Did you take your eyes off each other long enough to see anything?”

“Yes,” Kota defended. “We took lots of notes.”

“Guess what? That’s pointless if you disappear for the rest of the day and never give them to me! You didn’t even show up for the flight!” He crossed his arms petulantly.

“Forget notes,” said Kenny, smug in the knowledge that today he had more information about what was going on than Jay. “Evil knows about the time loop too! He says there’s a temporal seal that’s trapping us in here.”

“LIJ are a bunch of fucking weirdos,” said Jay unimpressed. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think I found something too and it’s a damn lot more useful than Evil’s delusions.”

“What?” asked Kota before the bickering could begin in earnest.

“I saw Miho Abe up to something.”

“Sure, you did,” Kenny grinned. “What was she up to exactly?”

“None of your business,” Jay snapped, and at this he swivelled to address Kota directly. “It was a mistake coming to you. A mistake I’m not going to waste any more time on. I thought you understood. You can’t trust anyone, not forever. You know that better than I do. So, use your brain yeah?” Kota looked at the floor. Jay glanced back at Kenny, unwilling to turn his back on him for long. “There’s nothing you two can offer me. We’re done.”

“Well, have fun stalking Miho Abe I guess.” Kenny muttered at Jay’s back, and Kota couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter.

“He’s right,” Kota said to Kenny, “I’m not sure I can trust you. ”

“I’m easily the most suspicious,” Kenny agreed. “Don’t let me out of your sight okay?”

“Right. I better keep a close eye.” Kota grinned.

No sooner had they rid themselves of Jay White than Evil appeared with Hiromu bounding along at his heels. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries either.

"The temporal seal is losing stability. You must do as I tell you." His expression was dispassionate, but Kota felt like he was starting to learn how fear sounded in Evil’s voice. Not overt. But hidden only behind a veil of smoke. You could still see the shape of it lurking beyond brusque words. His long black coat gave him an extra air of grandeur. Less in keeping with the look was the grubby plastic bag in his hand. When Kota leaned to peek inside, he saw black feathers and dried blood.

“What do you mean its losing stability?” Kenny asked.

“Will you do as I ask?”

"Yeah we'll help you." Kenny agreed. “We want to get out of here! But why is it happening in the first place?"

"You will have the details later.” Evil said in his deep deliberate way and a flash of annoyance crossed Kenny’s face at the non-answer. “For now, you must accomplish two tasks.”

Kota inwardly prayed they did not involve any dead birds. Speaking of, Hiromu had his stuffed cat out and was pretending to make it eat the unfortunate contents of Evil’s shopping bag.

“You must keep Tanahashi in conversation from now until we have entered the main hall.” Kota nodded, though he was really thinking about the way Kenny’s arm was brushing against his own. “Then you must follow Bushi. Defend him from harm.” Evil glanced over at Hiromu as he said this, but the man wasn't listening. Daryl was spitting out feathers. “I will handle the rest.”

The intercontinental title was around Hiromu's neck. Whole once more. Gleaming solid metal.

“The belt...” Kota hesitated. Trying to find the words to describe what he’d seen before blacking out. “When it broke yesterday I saw something. Is it connected to what’s keeping us here?”

Evil looked at Hiromu, seemingly unwilling to speak about it with the other man so close by.

“It would be better for everyone,” he murmured, “If the belt wasn’t broken.”

The two of them shuffled off to re-join the rest of their faction. Hiromu's eyes were already locked on Naito and eager for mischief. But before he could resume his eternal campaign for Naito’s attention, Evil drew the eye of everyone in the immediate area by upturning a black velvet bag. At least a hundred tiny purple stones spun onto the floor.  

“Evil-san!” Hiromu leapt about to retrieve them.  

“Ah. My dark shadow gems,” Evil rumbled.

“Be careful!” Hiromu scolded, occupied with scooping the little stones back into their bag. “Losing these would be disastrous right? Why would you drop them like that!?”

“Ah, it was an accident Hiromu…”

The man was magnetically opposed to the concept of subtlety.

“Do you think he can get us out?” Kenny asked.

“Honestly, I think he’s talking shit,” Kota said bluntly. “But we might as well find out.”

Kenny was still looking at Evil and Hiromu, as if trying to figure something out. He’d have to do it later. If there was a way to break out of this time loop Kota was determined to do so. He would allow no distractions.

The ace of New japan was standing at ease between Kushida and Juice Robinson. He was a sensible traveller by Kota's standards, trailing a suitcase that was both compact and sturdy. As Kota considered his options Tanahashi tapped away on his phone and took a selfie with Kushida. How his hair was still in perfect shape after a six-hour flight was the biggest mystery here. But a close second was how distracting him had any relation to getting them out of the loop. All the same, Evil clearly knew more than he was letting on and if playing along with his plan would get him to spill his secrets, Kota supposed the only thing to do was to follow his directions. For now.

“How are we going to stop him from doing whatever he’s going to do?” Kenny asked. “I don’t think I can go up and just start a conversation with him. I think he hates me,” he confided.

“Yeah he does.” Kota rarely saw the point in sugar coating the truth on these matters.

“What then? You want to take a crack at it?”

“If I must.” Kota gritted his teeth. “Just stay here and try and look like a bad influence.” Kenny snorted and moved aside to let him out of the line.

“Ibushi-san hello!” Tanahashi greeted him warmly. All shining smile and regal grace. Kota elbowed Juice Robinson in the side until he budged up and made room for Kota in the queue.

“How’s the travel?”

“It’s fine,” Kota lied. “Could I talk to you for a moment?”

“Of course. What about?” Kota hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Take your time. My door is always open for you.” Tanahashi reassured. 

“I just want to ask your opinion on...” 

“Ah I understand,” said Tanahashi, taking his silence as reluctance to speak on a sensitive issue. “I think you’re right to have doubts.”

“I am?”

“Of course, throwing in with someone like that. You should always stay vigilant. It’s good to rely on people, as long as you have a person who is reliable.” Tanahashi ran a hand through his hair, swishing it back over his shoulder. 

“Hm.”

There was a break in the conversation as Kota was waved through the metal detector and waited for Tanahashi to join him on the other side.

“I wouldn’t dream to try and tell you what’s best of course,” continued Tanahashi, picking up where he’d left off. “But with a little more ambition you could be challenging at the highest level, fulfilling all your goals.”

That stung a little. On another day Kota might have tried to argue but this wasn’t the time for that. He had to keep Tanahashi engaged. From previous encounters he knew that whether he would dream of it or not, the betterment of Kota’s so far disappointing career was a topic Tanahashi was willing and able to discuss at length.

“So, what do you think I should do?”

“Well, joining a faction is a good step. It shows commitment, dependability. But the Bullet Club...”

“Ah I’m not in the Bullet Club!” Kota hastened to clarify.

Tanahashi looked at him sideways.

“You might want to tell them that. There are better places for you. You know that Taguchi Japan would have you, and Okada would be a fool to turn you down.”

A shudder moved through Kota's spine and he rallied himself to control it. Acting was not one of his natural strengths. He could imagine few things worse than being swept up in the endless faction warfare that plagued the company. Kota's own drama was more than enough to keep him busy. Having to pretend to care about other people’s problems must be such a lifeless way to wrestle. And taking orders was another area in which Kota had found he lacked natural talent.

“Not LIJ though?” Kota joked weakly. Tana looked over to the neighbouring line where Naito had also made it through security and was waiting for his cohorts to repack their bags.

“No,” said Tanahashi with ice.

As if he could feel critical eyes on the back of his head, Naito swung around to watch them. He locked eyes with Tanahashi and spat a great glob of saliva onto the pristine marble floor.

“You do know that you’re in an airport?” Tanahashi’s cold, clear voice whipped through the crowd. Even the security personnel stopped in the midst of frisking Sanada to watch. “That you’re representing us all in public? Representing the company?”

Naito’s eyes rolled.

“Relax, no one will get the wrong idea with you around. You’re shit and it’s a shitty company. It’s an accurate representation.” Naito’s hat made it through the x-ray machine and slid down the conveyor belt. He put it back on his head in the slow and deliberate way he did everything.

Evil was scowling at Kota and he realized belatedly that this was the exact situation he’d been tasked with preventing.

“Um… Tanahashi-san...”

“If you want a fight that can be arranged with the office.”

“I’m sure it can. Whatever you want it happens right? After all the company still eats out of your hand?”

“Don’t blame me for your own failures,” snapped Tanahashi.

“I’m not so fragile I need to. Besides…” He plucked the intercontinental title out of Hiromu’s arms and waved it in front of Tanahashi’s nose. “I don’t think I’m such a failure at the moment, even by your standards.”

Tanahashi took a step back, repelled.

Naito held the title in front of him and spat right on it. Even Hiromu looked mildly disgusted.

“Every time I think you won’t fall any lower you prove me wrong Naito,” said Tanahashi sadly. He swept off, Kota and all his wasted potential long forgotten.

Naito didn’t watch him go. He kicked the belt away and left it abandoned on the marble floor. Hiromu picked it up and wiped at it with his sleeve reproachfully.

Kota didn’t need Evil’s glare to tell him they’d failed at their first task.

...

Their second mission; keeping an eye on Bushi, turned out to be easier than they initially feared. Los Ingobernables began the layover at an eatery apparently chosen because of its vaguely South American theme. They took over the biggest booth in the restaurant. Naito stretched out over the cushioned seats earning looks of disapproval from the waitresses. Hiromu was drawing industriously in his sketch pad which he appeared to be hiding from his faction mates too as he hissed at anyone who tried to sneak a peek. Bushi and Sanada watched something on Bushi’s phone and Evil watched all of them like a hawk. Only taking his eyes off his teammates to check that Kenny and Kota still sat in the ice-cream parlour opposite.  

Kota spent the first hour trying to convince Kenny to break his stupid diet.

“Apart from our memories everything gets set back. I didn’t eat anything at all in the last few loops.”

“You got tired,” Kenny pointed out.

“It wasn’t my muscles that got tired. Just my mind. You can have just a spoonful if you want?”

Kenny looked to be in actual physical pain as he resisted the offer. Okada had a lot to answer for.

Across the concourse Naito was stirring and Evil had started on the card throwing game. It was possible he was doing it solely to keep Naito occupied. It certainly worked. Naito’s concentration was unbreakable as he tried and failed to toss the cards into the hat on the other end of the long table.

“How does that work? Is it a trick?” Kota asked Kenny.

“Yeah, he said he could do it because of the time loop. I think he might have been talking nonsense though, he didn’t do any real magic while you were out.” Kenny said, happy to change the topic to anything other than food. “But he got the cards in the hat every time. He let me have a go but it was kind of a bad showing on my part.”

In the cafe across Naito finally got one in. Evil took five cards from the pack and flicked his wrist. All five cards flew from his hand and arranged themselves stacked neatly into the hat. Naito’s eyes narrowed.

“To get the card in the hat you must rearrange the whole of reality.”

Kota made a face.

“I said it was probably a trick!” Kenny defended. “I spent nearly half an hour trying to do it while you were asleep and that was the only hint he would give me! It was after we lugged you up to the smoking room and Evil gave everyone inside the fright of their lives.”

“Do you mind if I get another ice cream?” The mango gelato was calling to him.

Kenny ignored the question. Evil was really showing off now. He had moved about five paces back from the table and was tossing the cards in from a distance. There was something odd about it. Not just the spooky accuracy of each throw. Evil threw the card and it landed in the hat. Kota watched him do it three more times before he saw what he had caught out of the corner of his eye.

When Evil moved his hand and released the card, it appeared back in his hand again for a split second before it flew out perfectly into the hat.

“Did you see that bubble? Around his fingers?” Kota said excitedly.

“What?” Kenny had been looking longingly at the ice cream menu.

“It was like when the belt exploded yesterday.” 

“It smashed.” Kenny conceded. “I don’t think I would say it exploded.”

Maybe he had been seeing things. He had passed out right after. All the same he was sure the bubbles around Evil’s hands were there. Now he had worked out how to see them they couldn’t be unseen. Forming and dissipating in the fraction of a second as he threw the cards.

“I’m going to try.” Kota announced. There was nothing else to do until Bushi peeled off from the group.

“We don’t have any cards.”

Kota took some coasters from the bar and aimed at Kenny’s open bag.

The first shot didn’t go in.

“I think this is the kind of thing that takes practice,” said Kenny to his obvious frustration at not getting it immediately. The third coaster made it in, but not down to any time related superpowers. Kota looked back over at Evil. There was a trick to this. Kota could see the bubble around his fingers, the blurred moment of the throws.

“Bushi’s on the move.” Kenny was right, on the opposite side of the table to Evil, Bushi was sliding past Sanada and making for the exit. Evil let him go, watching to see that Kota and Kenny got up to follow.

The overcast sky above the airport had changed the mood inside it. People moved faster, no longer dazzled by the sun. A sense of uncertainty brought about by the steady dripping rain making the masses more eager to get to their destination. Bushi was wearing a light blue shirt that easy picked him out from the crowd. Though neither Kenny nor Kota were expert tails, between the two of them they managed to follow him through the throngs down two escalators and out of passport control.

“Do you think we can follow him?”

“Why not?”

"I don’t know if we'll be able to leave the airport."

But despite Kota’s fears, no magic wall or time reset stopped them from walk through baggage claim and out of customs.

Bushi didn’t lead them out into the open air but down yet another level and along a vast lit tunnel. Rising up the escalator on the other side they were carried up into a glass atrium of natural light, filled with lush green trees. Though it made a strong imitation of being outside, the artificial cool air that hung in the room broke the illusion. The trees were encased inside wide rectangular boxes and the floor was the same hard marble that prevailed through the airport itself.   

“It’s a hotel,”  Kenny indicated the curtained windows above that looked over the atrium. “Do you think he’s here to hook up with someone?” he asked excitedly.

But after eavesdropping on Bushi’s conversation with the hotel receptionist it became clear what he was here for. He swiped a key card through a turnstile and went into a large gym that took up most of the ground floor on the west side of the hotel.

“He’s fitting in an extra work out before the tournament. He still should have taken someone with him.”

“Maybe he and Hiromu are more competitive than they seem.”

Kenny adjusted the bag on his shoulders. “I have all my gym stuff with me.”

“You’re going to work out as well?” asked Kota incredulous. “We’re in a time loop. Eating doesn’t matter! Working out doesn’t matter!”

“It builds mental strength,” Kenny insisted.

“If you say so, if you want me I'll be in the bar. Watching the entrance obviously.” Kota clarified.

But he didn’t go to the bar.

When Kota stepped out of the glass double doors the warm wet air of the outside world greeted him. It felt real and welcoming and it made Kota’s heart swell with joy. It was a comfort to see that life carried on as usual outside of the cold sterilized buildings. Cars raced past on the great winding ribbons of hot tarmac rising high above the ground. Horns blared in the distance. A line of dust covered taxis were parked at the pavement, drivers inside dozing in the shade of the building.

Jay had said he couldn't leave the airport. How far had he tried to get? And if he had tested it, how far had he made it until he was forced back?

The urge to wander hit him. To walk as fast and as far as he could. To find out how far he could get before 11 o’clock struck. Would he appear back in his seat next to Kenny whatever he did? His feet itched under him to find out. Yes, they’d promised to help Evil, but there would be another chance at that tomorrow. Kenny wouldn’t be upset, would he? Kota wasn’t sure what he’d say. It was hard to know sometimes.

Kota walked to the end of the parking lot. Where the bays turned into roads and roads into highways, just to get a feeling for what the decision would be like.

Then he walked back to the hotel.

A familiar but unwelcome figure was leaning on the top of the receptionist’s desk.

“I don’t have all the time in the world here. Hurry it up. You aren’t just a pretty face right?”

The hotel receptionist emitted the kind of embarrassed titter that means; ‘I wish I were anywhere else’ or even ‘I wish this person in front of me were anywhere else, but if I had the choice it would be the mouth of an active volcano.’ Not an overreaction when faced with fending off the perennially unwanted Taichi Ishikari.

“Taichi! What are you up to?” The dirt-bag jumped at the sound of his name and glanced immediately in the direction of the gym. He was planning to hang around out here to jump Bushi then. Or maybe in the tunnel that ran below. That was a Taichi-rank plan. As complicated as a hammer.

“None of your business asshole.”

Kota expected him to slink off now that he’d been rumbled but he’d forgotten that Taichi was, in all ways, a man going nowhere fast. Getting rid of him was like pulling off a leech.

“One for the executive spa please,” he ordered the pink faced woman.

“Ah you’ll need membership for that...” she stuttered.

“Then I’d like to buy membership.” Taichi busted out a pack of credit cards.

“Don’t bother with it,” Kota said to the receptionist. “Get out Taichi.” The woman looked between the two of them unsure, but she didn’t pick up the card that Taichi had slid over to her.  

Tachi’s face screwed up in frustration.

“You’re a fucking creep Ibushi.” He whined, lips pouting. “You get off on following me or something!? You’re wasting your time, I’m not into you okay?” Kota kept his face blank.

“I don’t care. Stay away from Bushi.”

“What! Bushi?! W-why would I be looking for that guy?” Taichi blustered, but even he knew when he’d been thwarted. He scowled at Kota and at the receptionist for good measure and snatched back his credit card, stalking off down the escalator the way he’d come.

It was another half an hour until Kenny and Bushi emerged from the gym. Time which Kota did spend sitting at the bar. The creeping feeling that he was being watched dissuading him from drinking. Above where he sat, looking down into the atrium were four floors worth of windows. Perhaps because of this, no amount of mental arguing with his instincts would shake the paranoia. More Suzuki-gun members could still be nearby waiting to pounce.

But Taichi was the end of it. Bushi came out of the gym and headed straight out of the door and onto the escalator. Kenny hurrying out after him looking sheepish.

“I think he noticed us.”

“Us?”

“Sorry Bu-san, it turns out I’m not that great at going undercover.”

Kota couldn’t summon any real disappointment, or surprise. Instead of teasing his partner for his inability not to make himself the center of attention, all he could think about was the pleasant flush on Kenny’s face. A lovely combination of exercise and embarrassment. 

“We better get after him then.”

They hurried out of the hotel and back through passport control. Now Bushi had realized he was being followed he stopped making it easy and by the time they reached central lower plaza they had lost him completely.

“Wait..."

A bathroom on the right looked horribly familiar. There was an out-of-order sign on the door. It was in roughly scrawled Japanese, which in a Thai airport Kota found more than a little suspicious.

They kicked in the locked door with a resounding crash.

Suzuki-gun were nothing if not predictable.

El Desperado had Bushi in a headlock and Kanemaru was snickering beside them, slugging back a hit of duty-free whisky. The faucet Kota had kicked to pieces was already broken this time around, cold water spurting out of it over the rim of the sink and drenching the floor with water. The mirror above it was smashed, and shards of glass littered the floor.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” yelled Kanemaru. El Desperado let go of Bushi and backed up when Kenny and Kota advanced, fists raised.

“You should keep to your own business.” El Desperado sneered at them. He made as if to punch Kota but dropped his arm at the last second. The two of them weren’t brave or stupid enough to take on three men at once.

They edged out of the door still glaring as Kenny and Kota watched them go.

Bushi was panting for breath as Kenny helped him up from where El Desperado had dropped him on the floor. Otherwise he seemed none the worse for wear although he bemoaned the state of his sodden jeans as they left the bathroom.

"Is that why you two have been following me around all day?" he asked, voice hoarse.

“Well when you say all day... we haven’t exactly been following you all day…” Kenny hedged.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong I appreciate the rescue,” Bushi assured, rubbing his bruised neck. “It’s just that you two tend to keep to yourselves. Why are you so interested in me now? Wait! Do you have a bet on me for best of the super juniors!?” He sounded quite pleased at the idea.

“It’s more like a favor to Evil,” said Kota. Intending to stay vague on the details. He didn’t know how much the rest of Los Ingobernables knew about Evil’s situation, or if they were aware anything out of the ordinary was happening at all. Perhaps Evil simply wanted to bypass the bother of explaining it every day. Even if they were aware of the problem, getting this group to do anything at all seemed to be a matter of herding cats. Evil couldn’t even get them to stay together for three hours.

"Evil asked you to keep Suzuki-gun off me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" 

"Yeah sure, okay," said Bushi. He still sounded doubtful. “What kind of favor are we talking about here? Do you owe him, or does he owe you now?” When neither of them answered immediately, Bushi continued. “…Unless it’s a different sort of favor between you guys?” Bushi nudged Kota’s arm and smirked.

“Not that kind,” Kota protested, getting his meaning.

“I mean Evil’s a good-looking guy,” chortled Bushi. “I just didn’t think he was into that… so like on the side or in a three?”

“Don’t be filthy. And don’t think he can’t understand you either,” he indicated Kenny who didn’t seem overly concerned by Bushi’s insinuations.

“Evil is a good-looking guy,” Kenny admitted. Kota gave up.

“Everyone says you guys are freaks,” Bushi said without any real malice. He bent down and pulled a shard of mirror out of one of his shoes, chucking it on the marble floor where it skidded away until it hit a wall. “It doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Kota would have been less bothered by the rumor if it had at least been true this time around. But when he and Kenny hadn’t even hooked up with each other since reuniting, let alone anyone else, it felt quite unfair.

“Didn’t you date Naito before?” asked Bushi, really pushing his luck now in Kota’s opinion.

“He was a different guy back then,” Kota said eventually. “It was a weird time.”

“He pretty much never mentions you.”

Probably because there was nothing to mention. Kota didn’t know why this information was even being presented to him. Kenny was acting casual, but Kota felt himself getting a bit of side eye. He wished it didn’t feel so exciting. There was a thin line to walk here, between good jealousy and bad jealousy. Good jealousy led to clashing teeth and kisses that took him apart. Bad jealousy grew up like a weed in the pavement and could crack solid concrete slabs in two.

...

Evil, Naito and Sanada were still in the restaurant when they got back. Which Kota now noticed was conveniently within sight of the climbing frame he had become so familiar with yesterday. Evil gave off an impassive and haughty air as always, but Kota though his expression relaxed a little in when he saw Bushi, wet and a little red around the throat but otherwise unharmed. Naito and Sanada looked bored. It was a look they generally cultivated but perhaps it was a little more genuine today. They had been corralled in that restaurant for four hours now and counting.  

“Thank you,” Evil said. “This will aid our escape from the darkness."

Bushi looked from Kenny and Kota to Evil with suspicion but before he could begin asking questions Kenny barreled in with his own.

“You’re the one making this happen!” he accused Evil. “You did it to save Bushi didn’t you? From what happened yesterday?”

“What happened yesterday?” Bushi interjected.

“Not just Bushi,” said Evil. “All of them.”

"So, is the day going to reset? Or can we get out now?" 

Evil weathered Kenny’s questioning with a scornful look. Bushi, accepting that no explanation was likely to be forthcoming, threw up his hands in defeat and peeled off to sit with Naito and Sanada.

“We helped you!” Kenny demanded. “You can’t want to be stuck here either? You said you could get us out of here!”

“Controlling the darkness is not simple.” 

“We did our part,” Kota muttered. It really went to show you couldn’t trust anyone. Alongside his annoyance there was a low satisfaction at being right all along. Listening to Evil had been a waste of time, a road leading nowhere. He hadn’t wanted his feelings of doubt vindicated at the expense of escaping, but at least it was somewhat of a consolation prize. But Kenny was looking from Los Ingobernables to Evil and back, working something out.

“Where’s Takahashi?”

Evil pointed up to the playground equipment.

“But he didn’t fight with Naito, today right? How did he end up there again?”

Evil shook his head. “Reality is like a river,” he said. “It always tries to resume its course, however it can.”

“So, he’s fated to go up there somehow?” Kenny said, gamely trying to scrape some meaning from Evil’s cryptic rubbish.

He never had promised he could break the time loop, Kota reflected. He had just come up and demanded their help. Maybe this was their fault for jumping in without thinking, but still Evil had been more than happy to let them think their troubles were over. That’s what you got for relying on magic to solve your problems.

“Once something has happened, it takes a lot of energy to make it un-happen. Once the river has cut through rock it is hard to stem the flow.” Evil wrapped a strand of his long black hair around his fingers.

“So, you want us to flush him out like last time?” Kota huffed.

Evil nodded.

Kenny volunteered to climb the netting, but it turned out to be unnecessary. Because in the next thirty seconds it became obvious to all three of them that the top of the tower was empty and had been for a while.

Tanahashi was marching over the horizon again.

Yesterday he’d had all his accusations pointed and drawn in preparation for Naito. Today it didn’t look like he’d managed to get that far.

As he approached them, struggling to lift the man in his arms, Bushi cursed low and long. Jumping out of the restaurant and racing over, the other two hot on his heels.

Tanahashi handed the limp body over to Sanada with utmost care, hands lingering over to guide the exchange until he knew his passenger was safe.  

“Who was it?” Said Bushi through clenched teeth. “Who did it!?”

A trail of blood was coming from Hiromu’s mouth. As Evil held him he stirred and spat a tooth out onto the floor. He opened his eyes and immediately started to groan. The intercontinental title was still clutched in his hands and his blood had seeped in a dark trail over it.

Naito was staring at a point to the right of Hiromu, as if he couldn’t quite stand to look at him. A charge was building, and the next small irritant was sure to feel the power of it.

“Suzuki-gun,” said Tanahashi. He turned to Naito, expression harried but firm. “You failed him today. From now until the end of the tournament, your juniors will be a target.” He looked like he had more to say but also knew that the words would be wasted.

Tanahashi took the intercontinental belt from Hiromu and in the corner of his vision Kota saw Evil’s face fall. The river had found its way back. It was over. Another bad end.

Naito’s face was barely keeping from contorting in rage, Tanahashi held the belt out loosely to him. A peace offering, or a taunt. Naito would surely take it as the latter. 

Another day another failure. Kota wasn’t having it. He leaped forward and snatched the belt from Tanahashi’s hands.

Kota sprinted without looking to see if he was being pursued.

... 

Kota ran past families and businessman and backpackers. He bounded over suitcases and trolleys. He ran from the playground, past the bathroom where he’d fought Kanemaru and El Desperado, past the central escalators that went down to passport control. 

The unforgiving marble met his ankles with a jolt on every leap.

When he dared look back, Naito and Tanahashi were twin demons pounding after him. He ran on into the east wing of the building, shops falling away until all he passed were banks of chairs and gates.

“Stop running, bastard!”

“I don’t know what you think you’re trying to accomplish here, Ibushi-san!”

Kota didn’t waste breath on a quipping back.

“Hey! Bu-san! Up here!”

Kenny was on his right a floor above. He’d had the good sense to get up high on one of the bridges that ran on the upper level. Kota threw the title as high as he could, and Kenny snatched it out of the air with perfect timing. A curse came from behind as Tanahashi and Naito changed tack and roared after Kenny instead, hurling themselves up the nearby escalator.

Up was no good in the long term. There was nowhere for Kenny to escape to. But Kota was running out of directions as well and he was thankful for the minute to catch his breath. This leg of the airport was a dead end. He needed to get back to the main terminal where he had a chance of getting some distance and losing them. But they’d block his path easily from this position.  Or maybe not.

“Ibushi!” Sure enough, Kenny was cornered now. The jackals were closing in on him. Tanahashi with his weaponized disapproval and Naito with his raw grief exposed.

Kota shouted up and Kenny threw the title back down into his outstretched arms. If Tanahashi got his hands on it maybe that wouldn’t be too bad. But it wasn’t worth the risk of Naito smashing it yet again.

Once something happened it was hard to make it un-happen, but according to Evil’s crackpot theory he only needed to divert the river for a little while longer. He could do that. The seconds ticked away on the screens surrounding him.

Most of the curved wall inner wall of the building was a smooth white shell but in places, next to where Kota was right now for instance, it was broken up by large triangular sections of windows.

The windows themselves were small square tiles held in place by a large metal framework.

Kota put the strap of the intercontinental belt between his teeth and began to climb it.

It wouldn't take him far. It only went for a few yards or so along the wall, but that would be plenty far enough for Kota’s purposes. This section extended over one of the high glass walls that separated the gates, and if he got over that, it would be enough to get some serious distance.

He reached for a piece of the framework without looking and a stretch of serrated metal sliced him across the palm. He couldn’t let go to check the wound. He was almost over the glass barrier now.

His hand was bleeding badly. Blood gushed from the gash in his palm, dripping down onto his face. The title was still jammed between his teeth, mixing with the blood of Takahashi where it had already dried on the white leather. He let go of the metal framework to wipe the blood off on his pants and almost lost his balance. He could hear the footfalls of Tanahashi and Naito, several meters below him now.

“Ibushi-san please stop this now!”

“Come down asshole!”

He was inches away from the top of the glass wall. He just hoped they hadn’t figured out what he was planning to do.

Kota stretched his foot out behind him until he felt the top of the glass barrier support the rubber sole of his shoe. With one hand still holding onto the framework of the building both his feet could just about balance on the edge of the glass.

He grinned, gave his pursuers thumbs up and dropped down onto the opposite side of the barrier. Then he set off again at a run back the way he’d come into the center of the airport.

... 

Kenny caught up to him in the smoking room with five minutes to go.

“Tanahashi is very disappointed in you,” he said closing the door behind him. “Naito didn’t say anything really. He went back to check on Hiromu. Ah! Hey-” Kota lunged for him, adrenaline from the chase still pumping through his body. He pressed a trail of kisses into Kenny’s neck, loving the way Kenny’s voice cracked as he did so. He pushed him against the sofa, Kenny’s knees buckled, and Kota followed him down, crouching over his prone body.

“Wait what happened to your hand? It’s bleeding!” Kota didn’t feel like being fussed over. The cut wasn’t important. He pulled at Kenny’s shirt.

“Let me put something on it. Wait-” Kota bit at his neck and gloried at the feeling of Kenny's body curving against him.

“It will be fine.” 

“It’s going everywhere!”

“It’s fine.” Kota halted further objections with another kiss.

Kenny stopped talking for a while apart from the breathy moans and exclamations Kota drew from him. But he wouldn’t be put off forever. And even Kota had to admit that Kenny, the couch, and everything else getting covered in blood wasn’t adding to the mood.

“Just let me put something on it,” he begged. Kota’s good hand slowly rubbing over the inside of his thighs, achingly close to the crotch of Kenny’s trousers.

“It’s going to reset in two minutes.” Kota pointed out. “It will never have happened.”

“The plane has already taken off then?”

“Yeah, too late to get on it now.” Kota said, finally moving his fingers upwards to stroke slowly over the bulge in the fabric.

“Ah! Ibushi-san!”

“So polite. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“If we’re... still looking for time travelers… ah… maybe we should be looking at who doesn’t bother showing up for the second flight tomorrow either.” That hadn’t been what Kota meant, but he had to admire Kenny’s ability to keep his mind on a problem.

“Okay. Now tell me what you’re thinking.” Kota slipped his hand under the fastening of Kenny’s jeans, but they were out of time. He could already feel the cold setting into his bones.

Chapter Text

Thunder rumbling in the distance was the first thing Kota heard after the jolt of the reset. The sky was darkening outside the aircraft. Heavy droplets streaking on the porthole windows.

Kota was sick of this.

Sick of the bone leeching cold that poured through him every time he was snapped backwards. Sick of the engine’s whining stutter. Sick of being crumpled and twisted into the small space. Squished in on both sides between the grubby plastic wall of the cabin and Kenny’s hot fidgety body.

“Are you awake? Is your hand better?”

His hand was lifted and examined for damage. It was back to normal.

Of course it was.

“Well that’s a positive at least,” said Kenny brightly. “This feels so bad though, I think I might be sick.”

“Yes.”

It had gone way past bad for Kota. He sat still as marble in his seat, unable to talk or move for several minutes. Pinned down securely by the churning of his insides threatening to become outsides. If he did vomit, he couldn’t shake the notion that it would be his own putrid organs spilling out, and that made the nausea even worse.  

The plane landed. Neither Kota or Kenny made any movement to get up.

The rest of the passengers bustled around, retrieving luggage from the overhead lockers and stretching. They didn’t know they were doing it for the sixth time in a row. Even more than that, Kota thought. Evil had been going around even longer than he had. Before he’d been woken up by Jay, Kota himself must have been like the rest of them. Stuck on repeat. Following the same steps every day. Over and over.

The flight attendants buzzed nearer as the cabin emptied out.

“We’ll just be a moment,” Kenny smiled weakly, waving them off. “He’s feeling a bit lightheaded.”

“I don’t want to be here,” said Kota, voice thick. The pain that had been thrumming through his bones was receding. Though he had a nasty feeling it was merely packing itself up into his skull into a monster of a headache.

Kenny’s hand was on his knee.

“Where do you want to be?”

“Home.”

…

They found Evil vomiting into a trashcan when they exited the jet bridge. He looked like Kota felt; sick and rotten to the heart. Pale and sweating and tangled up inside his own skin.

Kenny gave Evil a supportive pat on the back and he hurled again.

“Where’s Hiromu? Sanada?” Evil gestured vaguely ahead. “I can go fetch them?” Kenny offered.

Evil shook his head. Kota understood, sometimes it didn’t help to be fussed over.

“Have you got any water?” Kenny asked Kota.

When Evil straightened up he had tears in his eyes. He accepted the water and Kenny’s pack of tissues. Neither were returned. Even if Evil did wish to be fussed over, Kota reflected, Kenny was doing such a fine job he couldn’t possibly be wanting for it.

“I wonder how many times he’s restarted the day,” Kenny muttered sympathetically to Kota as they watched him. “Do you think that will be us tomorrow?”

“I hope not.”

...

They ditched their bags in a nook between a vending machine and a potted plant, not far from the gate they came in at.

Evil’s suitcase was extremely heavy for something purporting to be hand luggage. It was black and decorated all over with large eyes stitched into the soft casing in glittering violet thread. Kota was happy to leave his own bag, it made the thought of walking on a little more bearable. He had a tendency to leave it behind at the best of times and the loop was making him even more careless. He couldn’t actually remember if he’d even taken it off the plane the day before. Kenny, however, still insisted on carrying his backpack.

“If we manage to break the loop and you guys don’t have your stuff you’re going to feel pretty stupid,” he insisted. Kota had to admire his optimism. It never had broken easily.

It was around then, as the sickness started to wear off that Kota began noticing the dead insects littering the floor, and once he’d seen the first few, more kept appearing. Ants and moths mostly. In larger and larger amounts. There was a dead honey bee on the edge of a recycling bin and Kota couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor thing, to have wandered into this vast alien airlock and been trapped with no way out.

“These insects… is that because of what’s happening to us?”

Evil nodded. A bit of color was returning to his face. He opened his mouth again but then ran immediately to the nearest bin to vomit once more. Extended talking would have to wait.

Security was faster without luggage. They were so far behind the rest of the plane that by the time they reached the checkpoint the queues were non-existent and passing through took no time at all. The rest of Los Ingobernables were long gone.

Kenny looked affronted on Evil’s behalf, but he just shrugged. “They don’t know about any of this. I wanted to leave them out of it.” The sickness had left Evil’s face to be replaced by something else: Guilt.

“There’s some things we have to clear up with you...” Kota began.

“Did you kiss Jay White?” Kenny blurted out.

Evil’s face was an extreme negative on that one.

“So that means there’s still another person who knows about the loop running around changing things!?” groaned Kenny. “And we still don’t know why this is happening!”

“It was my power that has encased us in the temporal seal,” Evil admitted. His voice low and quiet. “That’s why it started.”

“You’re making the loops happen?”

Kota felt another wave of sickness ripple through him and was thankful for Kenny’s ability to carry their side of the conversation. He talked enough for them both. Kota sank into the background and leant his forehead against the cool glass wall.

“I’m not powering it. But I supplied the power source.”

“Well then un-supply it.”

“It’s not that simple. Imagine you are stuck inside a building,” Kota found that extremely easy to imagine. “You can’t get out by blowing up all the walls at once. The roof will crush you. That is our situation.”  

“Well, what’s stopping us from just opening the metaphorical door here? I don’t get it?” asked Kenny.

“We can open the door,” Evil agreed. “As long as the ghost living in the building doesn’t blow up the walls first and kidnap you into a shadow dimension.”  

Kenny huffed and finally noticed Kota’s silence, and also that he was several feet away pushing his face into a window for the purposes of pain relief. Kota felt Kenny’s warm hand stroke down his back. His fingertips tracing the indents of his muscles. 

“What do you need? What do you want to do?” His voice was soft.

Kota breathed deep. He hated this airport more than anywhere he’d ever been in his life. He hated its blankness and the way sound echoed through it to become muffled and strange. He hated the way it was the same around every corner.

"I want to go outside," he said.

…

As soon as they got to the hotel lobby the tension in Kota's body subsided and he felt himself relax enough to function. Just being in the atrium had a pacifying effect. Kota liked the plants, he liked the air that drifted in through the double doors. The availability of hard liquor was also a net positive. The three of them ordered their preferred drinks and sat down at a small, glass topped table for what would eventually prove to be the most normal hour of the entire day.  

“Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong on that first day.” Evil nursed his cup of black tea as he began his tale. Kota could tell it was all going to be this melodramatic and took a hefty swig of his own drink. “It really started years ago, ever since I was a young man. I have encountered dark spirits.”

Kota managed not to roll his eyes. Whether Evil had been possessed by a ghost or had the misfortune to pecked at by a radioactive crow Kota couldn’t bring himself to care one way or another. He looked over at Kenny for support, but his eyes were fixed on Evil, bright with interest. They really were so blue. Kota shivered. Once his attention drifted to them he was hopelessly locked in.

“...And I knew my path from that day forward. I would walk with one foot in darkness at all times...”

Maybe Kota could convince him to cut his hair, then it wouldn't be so brittle at the ends. But how? It was a sensitive subject. Kenny might have changed some over the last few years, but Kota was willing to bet that weak spot was tender as ever. Besides the long hair was nice in good condition. The length wasn’t the issue here.

“…On that hilltop I was given my first sacred stone. A dark object so powerful that if a normal person were to touch it…”

Maybe new clothes would be an easier sell. Kota could just buy him some. But that could be sending the wrong message. Did it have to get more complicated than: ‘I love you. Here are some clothes’? Things could always get misinterpreted. In more than one direction.

“…and so, I knew the only thing to do would be to train and become a wrestler. I came to the dojo and met with…”

The message could easily be received as, ‘You dress badly.’ Which might be true, but Kota didn’t care about it enough to engage in passive aggressive gift-giving. ‘Wear my love on your body.’ Now that would be too much.

Kenny was nodding in excitement. Evil was in the middle of explaining how Naito had picked up on his true ethereal energies and accepted him for who he was.

Kota turned the scenario around in his mind. What would he think if Kenny gave him clothes? Well if it was just merchandise Kota supposed he wouldn’t think anything of it. Non-merchandise clothes? It would depend on the clothes. They didn’t give each other clothes anyway. It would be weird, and Kenny would definitely over think it just like Kota was doing now.

 “…more than just my faction. Hiromu and Bushi have been working so hard. When they got hurt I had to do something.”

Kota’s attention flicked back to Evil. The guilt was all over his face. Kota couldn’t fault him for trying to protect his teammates. But this was more than that.

“The spirit I summoned was a powerful one. He offered a chance to change the past, and I accepted...”

A humming sound was in Kota’s ears. Perhaps the vibration of the aircon or some other electrical device prevalent throughout the building. He twisted in his seat, his energy returning through the power of boredom, and he found he couldn't sit still any longer. He needed to walk on proper ground. Even if only for a moment.

Kota banged his chair as he moved it out to draw Kenny’s attention and immediately felt childish for doing so. Kenny looked up but once he saw Kota heading in the direction of the bar he went back to eagerly nodding along.

Why did it matter if Kenny looked over at him or not? What did it matter if he cared about Evil’s life story? Especially since so much of it was clearly made up. Kota had never seen ghosts at the dojo and Evil’s boast of exorcising nine of them seemed excessive. The young lion training wasn’t that bad.

Kota walked out of earshot over to the bar, ordered a shot and downed it as discretely as possible. Then he crossed the atrium to step outside into the air. Rain drummed steadily onto a cover over the entrance to the hotel. The glass doors yet another barrier between himself and the wet heat of the world. At least this one he could escape. 

He stepped out into the middle of the road and felt the drops fall on his skin and soak into his shirt. A car beeped at him to move out of the way and he waved cheerily at it.

His spirit itched.

He wanted to jump off something.

The car beeped again.

The urge to move pulled at him, the roads away from here pulled and the need for Kenny pulled like bands of rope drawing his limbs tight in all directions.

The humming had faded but it was still there, buzzing in the back of his mind. It sounded like-

Suddenly he was hit with a wall of cold and an overpowering need to go back in through the glass doors. The atrium was sucking him in. As he passed through the entrance the humming in his ears became a hissing. Getting louder and louder until it was like an out of tune radio blaring static at full volume.

“sspt-sspt-spt-hurt-ssspt-ssss-ou.”

The noise made his skin crawl.

Kota spun around.

There was someone standing right behind his left shoulder. But when he moved there was nothing to see. He could feel its eyes crawling over him.

The noise wasn’t stopping.

“sssspt-spt-sssspt”

 He searched the windows above, certain he would see a face poking out.

“Here-ssspt-sssspt-ss,” 

There were invisible hands around his throat.

He tried cry out, but the sound couldn’t get out past his vocal chords. The hands were holding it in.

Evil and Kenny were close, but neither were facing the right way to see him struggling. The hands that held his throat seemed to travel, infinite fingers spreading up to his hairline and slowly down his body sucking tight over his shoulders and arms.

He couldn’t move his upper body. It was frozen. Even his chest could barely move out far enough to draw breath.

“sspt-Sorry for the imposition-ssspt,” the static hissed. It didn’t sound sorry.

The cold was passed his stomach now. He had to act fast.

He made it as far as the edge of the restaurant before the thing had him fully in its thrall.

With the last limb left under his control he swung his leg out and kicked out at a stool. It clattered to the floor as his right foot was swallowed completely by the cold.

“Ibushi are you alright?” called Kenny. His voice was muffled like from behind glass.

Kota’s jaw was locked tight and it was all he could do to slowly raise his head to make eye contact. Terror burning inside.

“What’s wrong?” Kenny wandered into his vision frowning. Instantly on alert. When Kota didn’t reply Kenny shook him lightly. The combination of the invisible hands holding his muscles still and Kenny moving him was rattling.

“Ibu-san,” Kenny dropped his voice to a low whisper and glanced sideways at Evil. “Are you crying?”

He thrashed desperately inside his own body, the million hands didn’t loosen, but the tears came thicker and fuller.

Kenny’s eyes widened. “Hey, hey, hey…” He said in that warm way he sometimes had. It always made Kota imagine he was trying to corral a flock of nervous chickens and that image, if nothing else, usually took Kota’s mind off his troubles.

Kota’s mouth opened. He hadn’t been the one to open it.

“I… have to… go,” said Kota’s body. His mouth stringing together the words in a clumsy, stilted cadence. Kenny frowned.

“Where? I’ll come with you.”

“No!” the invader said sharply. It wasn’t moving Kota’s mouth right. His voice came out slurred and clumsy.

Kenny shrank back, hurt, but there was an edge of suspicion there. The invader moved like a toddler learning to walk on stilts, but it whirled away making fast, if clumsy, progress in the direction of the glass doors.

“ssstt-Don’t be afraid. I’m just as sick of this place as you are. I can get us both out. We’re going to go far away from all this trouble.”

And that was when Evil hit him in the back of the head with a bouquet of lavender.

Kota Ibushi, back at the helm of his faculties fell face first onto the marble floor.

 …

Afterwards Evil didn’t look sorry exactly, but it was clear he hadn’t expected Kota’s drop to be quite so dramatic. He and Kenny both preceded to fuss over Kota in their own particular ways.

“Ghost possession is expensive on the soul,” Evil explained, handing Kota a fistful of green gemstones. “Keep these close at hand.”

“Right,” muttered Kota.  

“Is your head okay? Are you...?” Kenny made a fist and mimed hitting his own head and it was funny how that gesture was enough to knock Kota back in time again. The more demonstrative parts of their early communication had fallen by the wayside when Kenny had become fluent in Japanese. But this had clung on past most. It was always useful to be able to say ‘concussion’ without saying it aloud.

Kota shook his head. He felt better now than he had all day. His frustration had found a target.

“Whatever that thing was. I’m going to kill it.”

Neither Kenny or Evil took issue with the feasibility of killing a ghost, which Kota was very thankful for.

...

The rain was heavier now, hitting the roof of the atrium like an spray of bullets. Dark clouds winding in the sky above.

“When a dark spirit possesses someone, it becomes more powerful but more vulnerable in turn.” Evil was tearing sprigs of lavender from the restaurant’s decorative bouquets. He passed one to Kota who held it in his fist like a dagger. “A weakened spirit can be dispelled when the host body becomes uninhabitable, in this case the herbs were enough to chase it out. But without a blessed scythe it’s impossible to reap a ghost in its non-corporeal form.”

“Is that what your scythe is for?” asked Kenny in wonder.

“No. My scythe is to flash when I do my entrance,” said Evil patiently. “It looks cool.”

“O-oh.”

Checking that none of the restaurant’s staff were watching him, Evil tucked an entire lavender pot plant under his coat and rummaged in his pockets. After a moment he found what he was looking for and held up a pair of ornate travel scissors. They were green, like jade or another similar stone and felt cold to the touch. Tiny black gems glittered on the round handles.  

“These will be efficacious enough for our purpose, but we will also need a stone to anchor the spirit.” Kota got the feeling Evil was quite enjoying having a captive audience.

“Like these ones?” Kota held up the green rocks he’d just been gifted.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then where’s the stone we need?” asked Kenny, excited and frustrated in equal amounts.

“...I left it in my suitcase.”

“So, we’ll go back and get it.” Kota decided, ignoring Kenny’s told-you-so expression. He was an avenger on the war path. The feeling of his body closing in on him like a coffin all too fresh in his mind.

…

Rain poured off the curved glass walls of the airport as if off the sides of an enormous umbrella. Booming thunder echoed around the hollow building in reverberations that made it rattle and tremble. The cold was everywhere.

The escalators up to departures had stopped working. Kota hopped up the steps in twos, unable to shake the thought that the metal teeth might suddenly come to life and bite him.

When he reached the top, Kenny and Evil close on his heels, the terminal was empty. Strange because Kota could have sworn there had been a small collection of people ahead of them. Evil put an arm out to stop him going any further.  As Kota watched a hole formed in the wall of the building, a dark liquid oozing through it and pooling on the floor.

“It’s the darkness world,” said Evil.

“What?!!” Kenny yelled excitedly behind him over the cacophony of the storm.

“This isn’t the real airport. It’s an illusion cast by the ghost to fool us. But not a powerful one.” The floor was sliding away before his eyes. It was like being drunk except it was the rest of the world and not Kota who’d been drinking. The signs for the gate above were in flux, numbers rolling into the thousands. “Be careful where you step. Once you enter the darkness world, walking forwards will only bring you further into it.”

Evil took a green stone out of his pocket and slammed it onto the ground with no small amount of dramatic flair. There was a cloud of grey smoke.

Off to the right Kota could hear people, and his senses sharpened into focus once more. As they got further into the midst of humanity, the worst of the storm fell away into the background until it had diminished back into dark clouds and drumming rain.  

Kota fingered the stones in his trouser pocket. Maybe they weren’t so useless after all.

They followed the sign for the gate, staying alert for anything unusual.

“So the storm isn’t really real?” asked Kenny.

“It’s only happening because of the time loop and the ghost,” Evil confirmed. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.”

The walls stayed as they should, but Kota couldn’t help but think the way was suspiciously empty. He was about to say as much to Evil, until they turned a corner and saw a heaving crowd up ahead.

It looked unnatural even from a distance. The people stood shoulder to shoulder packing themselves in tight though there was plenty of space around them to spread out. As the three approached, the crowd seemed to stay the same size as if they were getting no closer at all.

“This is another illusion, right?” Kota asked. But when he turned around, Evil and Kenny had both vanished.

Kota took another step forward and the people exploded into a giant swarm of birds that moved as one, tearing through the air towards him. Kota put his elbows over his face to brace for the impact of beaks and talons but felt nothing.

When he opened his eyes, he was caught in a tornado of black feathers.

Shining beaks glinted but didn’t touch him.

He reached out to push them away.

Then he woke up.

Kota opened his eyes in a place that was calm and warm. Sheets tangled between his legs. Sunlight streaming through the window. He flailed around in the soft bed he had found himself on trying to get his bearings. He wasn’t wearing anything under the sheets. Of course not, his brain supplied, it was too hot to in summer weather like this. Thin sheets were more than enough. Anything heavier and you’d wake up in a puddle of sweat. Outside he could hear seagulls calling to each other over the rushing whisper of waves.

“It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

The mumbling had come from the bed.

He knew this room. He knew the soft yellow of the paint and the way the light was falling in sharp angular shapes on the wall. The thumb tacked posters.

“I can close the curtains?” the same sleepy voice from under the sheet next to him offered.

Kota couldn’t place the room in his memory, though he knew it was his.

“Kenny?”

“Mm?”

Kota pulled the sheets down and there he was in all his golden glory. The sunlight lit him up all over and he groaned and turned to hide his eyes in the covers. Kota drank in the sight.

He poked him to see if the dream would end. It didn’t.

“Are you going to take me to the beach today?” Kenny asked. “I don’t mind going early if you want to.”

Kota had never wanted to go anywhere early in his life and real or not, this was the first bed he’d come across in what felt like an age. He slumped back on the mattress and Kenny snorted in amusement.

He was so fucking cute. Kota thought. So cute. This was the Kenny Omega that had lived in his mind for three years untouched. The memory that visited on his loneliest nights.

Kota put an arm around him and pulled him in for a cuddle.

“Even if you don’t want to go, I might,” Kenny ventured, face squished into Kota’s chest. “I don’t want to skip a workout. I have to be at my best.” He smiled like Kota should know why and Kota felt his stomach start to sink. Where was he? When was he?

“How did we get out of the airport?”

“What are you talking about?” Kenny peeked up at him. Bright eyes focused. Kota’s arm readjusted to hold him even tighter and he let out a soft little sigh.

Kota’s eyes found a calendar on the wall, and yes. He knew this place he knew this time and he knew this Kenny. But they were all patched together wrong.

The year on the calendar didn’t match the rest of the dream. Kenny’s Japanese was too good. His hair too light. He reached out and ran his fingers through the blond curls. This house by the sea, Kota hadn’t lived here since he was eleven years old. This was all the best parts. The glowing memories that had survived the worst of the last few years. In the real world untethered from Kota’s memory, the cleaner had survived it all too.

“Hey Ibu-tan that’s too tight! Let me go!”

Kenny was dutifully released and wasted no time pouncing upon Kota in turn. Blond hair hanging in waves over Kota's face and tickling his nose. Rather than attempting to push him off Kota pulled Kenny down onto him and rolled, trapping him again.

"You're too easy to catch Kenny-tan."

Kota’s phone rang. He knew it was his, though he hadn’t owned a flip phone in nearly a decade. He puzzled for a moment over the tiny keys before the muscle memory cut in and he was able to accept the call. Kenny wriggled out of his grip and then turned onto his stomach. Still watching him with his startlingly blue eyes.

“Come outside.” The voice was familiar.

“I’ll be right down.” Kota got up and started looking around for something to wear.

“You’re going?” Kenny whined.

“I thought you were going to the beach?”

“I changed my mind. Don’t leave.” Kenny wrapped his fingers around Kota’s wrist and the strength of it made Kota feel as if he were being torn in two. The voice on the phone had been so clear, he had to go out to meet it. At the same time Kenny’s hand anchored him to the bed.

“Don’t leave,” said Kenny. He was changing. He looked angry. Hurt. Embarrassed.

A giant figure ripped through the painted stone wall of Kota’s childhood room as if it were made of paper. Kota’s recognition that he knew this person and it was Evil followed a second after, slightly out of sync.

But when that came back, it all came back.

Dream Kenny let him go and sat back on the bed sullen and pouting at being so upstaged.

There was shouting coming from the hole in the wall and the sound of running feet. Evil, pointedly avoiding looking at Kota’s naked body, drew a rock from his bag with haste and threw it down on the ground to dispel the illusion.

The gemstone clattered onto the floor.

Nothing happened.

“This is a dream, right?” asked Kota. “How come the rock didn’t work?”

“It should work but you’ve been split.” Evil explained, deliberately looking at the wall. 

“Split?”

“It’s a novice attempt at keeping you pinned here. It’s simple to break. The other half of you will be somewhere close.” Evil started opening cupboards and doors at random.

Dream Kenny was serene again. Clinginess gone, and he watched Kota get up and start opening cupboards with a quiet appreciation. Apart from Evil, everything had taken on a strange ethereal quality. When Kota looked back at Kenny his face was slightly different each time and the cupboards multiplied until they were covering every inch of the walls.

“You have to think,” said Evil after every empty cupboard had been opened. “This illusion has been made using your memories. Where would you hide something important?”

Kota’s eyes went to under his bed. Evil reached under and pulled out a human arm. Not just any arm. It was a perfect copy of his own body, identical in every way. Dream Kenny gasped as Evil dragged it out. 

“Touch it,” Evil commanded. The noises from the hole were getting louder. “Hurry!”

Kota did and in an instant the dream exploded into smoke.

“Another illusion,” said Evil. “This ghost is tenacious.”

That was one word for it.

The smoke cleared and Kota was back in the central plaza, flanked by luxury stores on both sides of the concourse. He remembered passing here and walking on for another few minutes before they’d hit the crowd. Evil let go of Kota’s sleeve and dusted himself off.

“Where did you go!?” asked Kenny, seizing him around the shoulders.

“What?” said Kota, pushing him off still befuddled. “You were there.”

“I’ve been here the whole time! You vanished around a corner and then Evil pulled you out of that hole in the wall!”

He pointed behind them and sure enough there was tear in the plaster of the wall big enough for two men to step through, but as they watched it began to close like a wound healing, sealing up whatever was on the other side.  

“I got caught in another illusion.”

“Are you okay?” Kenny’s hands were hovering, fighting their need to touch, to fuss.

“Yeah, it was nothing.” It was jarring going from dream Kenny to present Kenny. Kota couldn’t help but notice the differences. The bags under his eyes were so deep, his face so sharp with panic compared to the sweet smile of the young man he’d been lying in bed with a moment ago.

“We have to hurry,” Evil cut in. “The ghost is trying to prevent us from reaching the stone. That illusion will have drained its energy but stay alert for more traps.” 

They were close now. The signs above were still and though Kota kept looking up to check, remained pointing in the same direction. The only thing ahead of them was the long walk out to the same gate they’d entered at hours before. The legs of the building all looked identical and what with being turned around and pulled in and out of illusions, Kota hadn’t realised that the gate for their flight out was right next to it.

To their left, Sanada, Bushi and Hiromu were sitting on a row of chairs next to the gate, Evil switched to walking on the far side of Kenny and Kota but there was little danger of him being spotted. Sanada’s nose was gushing with blood and Bushi and Hiromu were fully occupied plying him with tissues. The intercontinental title lying on the chair next to them.

“That’s not that bad,” said Kenny as they sped past them. “It’s only a nosebleed. I thought without you everything that could go wrong would go wrong?”

 “The river will find its course,” Evil said grimly.

Evil and Kota’s bags lay undisturbed between the vending machine and the potted plant. The latter of which had browned and wrinkled even in the few hours since they’d been gone. A crowd of security personnel passed the hiding place just as they reached them.

"We made it in time," said Evil.

The walls shook. Kota eyed the time at the bottom of a nearby screen suspiciously, but it stayed at 20:23, the seconds ticking by evenly. Evil unzipped the side of the suitcase and let the contents spill out over the floor. His gear, knee pads and boots, more gemstones and green battery powered finger lights. He upturned one of his boots and a large, ink black stone rolled out. 

Thunder boomed above, and Kota heard the buzz of static in his ears. The headache was back. He took one of the gem Evil had given him out of his pocket and clutched it tight in his fist.

“sssspt-I was trying to help you!” 

It was a moment before Kota realised the voice wasn’t inside his own head.

“Well then you're doing a terrible job of it,” said Kenny.

A shape spun into sight as if it was made of smoke. A woman, but beyond that Kota could make out no more distinctive features. She could have been old or young, fat or thin and indeed sometimes she appeared to be both or neither. Her eyes and mouth flickered around her face unable to agree on size or position for more than a few seconds. It was like watching someone through static on an old TV. The signal constantly being interrupted.

“That dirty old man is the one you’re after!” The woman screeched at Evil. “You leave me be and I’ll cause no you trouble!” Evil had the heavy black stone in his hand but did nothing with it. Just held it loosely as he let the ghost speak.

“I cannot allow any ghost to possess the living unchecked.” Evil rumbled, indicating Kota. “And I don’t call your works here tonight, ‘no trouble’.

The ghost’s static became wilder. Her eyes no longer contained by her face, leaping around her whole body, flickering in and out and multiplying to fill every inch of skin.

“The old man is lying!” The ghost squealed. “He wants to bring the whole place down on top of us! He’s mad! It’s not my doing! It’s him and his slimy little friend!”

The ghost looked less and less humanoid from second to second. her head ceased to be round at all and extended into a wide flat shape that snaked its way closer to Kota. “I could have gotten out with your help!” The nearer it got to him the more Kota could feel the dreadful coldness of the air she occupied. A large eye opened on the end of the shape that had once made up the thing’s head, staring at him.

Evil smacked the ghost with his stolen pot of lavender and it reformed, abashed, back into its more woman-like form.

“He’s mad.” She repeated to Evil. “He’s going to break your gold! He’s going to break your gold and break the whole place! I don’t want to be trapped here when he does!”

The ghost continued to argue its case to Evil. But while it did so, one of its fingers began to stretch, long and thin as a noodle, creeping through the air towards Kota again.

Evil bowled the anchor stone below where the ghost was floating and spoke a few deft words under his breath.

The ghost shrieked as the tail end of its smoke was sucked underneath the stone’s weight and for a moment it appeared solid and opaque like slime. Evil stepped forward with his scissors.

Kota didn’t quite see what he did, but he heard the tiny blades snip once and the form of the ghost crumbled into dust. The dust crumbled into smoke, and the smoke blew away into particles too small to be seen.

Before Kota knew it, she had vanished completely.

The static in the air went silent.

As soon as she was gone Kota felt revived. As if even without touching him, something of her had been lingering under his skin. Kenny also seemed to bounce up from his tired stance and shake himself off. Evil retrieved the black stone from the floor and inspected it.

“Is that it?” asked Kenny. “Is it all okay now?”

The storm had died down, but the persistent tapping of the rain overhead continued. Evil didn’t answer the question.

There was a thump.

Kota looked up and saw half a dead bird splayed out on the glass ceiling above.

“I don’t think so,” said Kota.

They all stood for a moment, looking up at the unfortunate creature until Kenny came to his senses and turned to Evil.

“She said it wasn’t her. She said it was another guy.” Kenny pursed his lips. “So, is it?”

Evil shrugged. “That... wasn’t the same ghost I made the deal with,” he admitted.

“It’s the Intercontinental belt.” Kota realized. “The gold he’s trying to break. You were trying to save it yesterday.”

“I shouldn’t have used it in the first place.” Evil looked at his shoes. “It's too powerful. But the belt was the perfect thing.”

“Perfect how?” asked Kenny. “What’s the belt got to do with anything?”

Evil continued to examine a point in the air to the left of Kenny’s face. “Magic is all about sacrifice. A spell requiring this much power demand the giving of something precious, loved, venerated. People have put their lives into that belt. Their hopes, their sacrifice. So, an object like that has powerful energy.”

“…and that’s bad?” Kota hazarded a guess.

“If the belt is broken permanently then yes,” said Evil. “It’s very bad.”

"Will all passengers for flight LH304 departing for London proceed to gate B3 for boarding.”

“Hey that’s our flight!” Kenny cried. “It’s not delayed today? Maybe it will work this time!”

“That’s because we don’t have to wait while security calls the bomb disposal unit to this wing of the airport,” said Evil like this should be obvious. “The bag is quite heavy, so I do leave it here. And they normally find it around now. Sometimes it’s useful to have a few extra hours in the day.”

Kota couldn’t fault the security personnel on that one. He could have sworn the embroidered eyes on the bag blinked. 

...

They were coming from the wrong direction as they approached the waiting area. Having come out further from the main body of the building then the gate of their departing flight, they now had to walk all the way back the way they’d come down a long white walled stretch of nothing very much. Occasionally this corridor was broken up by alcoves holding water fountains and restrooms to greet passengers off the long flights.

It was the relative privacy of one of these little alcoves that Suzuki-gun was taking advantage of to beat the shit out of Hiromu and Bushi.

Kota saw into the alcove just as Bushi was being slammed onto the ground, groaning in pain as his forearm met the marble at an unnatural angle. Lance Archer stood over him, looking down at his prone body.

Against the wall, his tag team partner had Hiromu in a chokehold. He let go of him and Hiromu slid down the wall, blood pouring from the mouth.

The last of the trio, Iizuka, growled as he caught sight them.

Davey Boy Smith Jr and Lance Archer visibly weighed up their options, but their only exit was blocked and there was no choice for them but to fight their way out.

“Piss off if you know what’s good for you,” Smith warned.

Hiromu’s blood was travelling in a slow wave over the marble. It lapped at the sole of Smith’s boot and Kota felt Evil tense beside him.

On his other side Kenny took a step forward and Iizuka was on him like great bear. In the same second, Evil threw a punch at Smith making a smacking sound so loud Kota thought the people at the gate couldn’t help but hear it and would soon come running.  

That left Kota with Archer. Easy enough.

Kota spun a quick kick into the man’s leg, but his second attack was caught by arms as thick as tree trunks.

He pulled Kota’s leg towards him by the knee and struck him across the chest. Kota twisted out of Archer’s grip. They traded blows evenly until Kota chopped the hulking man across the chest and his hand came back dripping red.

They both stopped, staring at Kota’s hand nonplussed.

Archer looked down at his chest in alarm. But it wasn’t his blood.

The gash was back.

But that had happened yesterday? It hadn’t really happened at all.

Yet there it was, carved into top of his palm deep and red. The walls were swirling as if the ghost was back but there was none of the cold Kota had come to expect from the supernatural.

Kenny ploughed sideways into Archer.

“Ibushi! What happened!?” Kenny yelled just before he got nailed in the jaw by a nasty forearm.

Kota staggered back, his vision blurring. He could see Evil struggling on the ground. Archer was kicking Kenny in the stomach.

After that Kota blacked out. It couldn’t have been for long though, because when his brain kickstarted, Kenny, Evil, Hiromu and Bushi were all in the same prone positions. Suzuki-gun long gone.

There were two men standing at the entrance of the alcove. Kota couldn’t quite make them out, but he knew their voices straight away.

“Ah. That arm is broken again I see,” came a familiar drawl. “Poor Los Idiotas. To be stuck with such a worthless leader. Although I do think noodle-head over there gives you some stiff competition. Let’s say you’re the worst leader who’s still actually recognized as one.”

“You’re a cockroach Taichi.”

“And you’re predictable. You make this way too easy.”

Naito moved to deck him but Taichi moved with uncharacteristic speed, slipping out of the path of the fist.

“You’re losing your touch Naito. Whatever little you ever had. I’ve destroyed your family and now I’m going to take your title.” Taichi said. “It’s the only thing you’ve got that’s worth anything.”

He stepped over Hiromu’s unmoving body and picked up the blood encrusted belt.  

“If I were you, I’d ditch the deadweights and focus on what’s really important.” He shoved the title into Naito's hands.

“Is that really why you did this cabrón?”

“Why else would I do it?” Taichi leered.

Naito looked at the belt. Long and hard. Then he looked at Taichi. He didn’t move. The moment lengthened and Taichi paled, his foot tapping on the marble. Kota wondered what he was so worried about.

Naito blinked and came out of his reverie, glared at Taichi and raised the title high. He slammed it once against the wall and the world shook on its axis. Every atom shaking with the force of it, every electron swinging off its obit at the impact of the blow.  

But Naito was raising it again as if he hadn’t felt the earthquake at all.

Kota watched the metal gleam as it was brought down to the ground. There was a terrible crack. The world faded into darkness.

Chapter Text

To the passengers for whom 17:09 rolled easily over to 17:10, the darkness must have seemed come on in the blink of an eye. They had no way of knowing that the storm circling the plane had been building for the better part of a week. A week they had lived but did not remember. There were exclamations of amazement when the sky changed. Amazement with an edge of fear. The passengers nudged one another and peered out of the porthole windows like timid mice through the air holes of a cardboard box.

The man in 32B was no such mouse. Taichi Ishikari smoothed back his hair and viewed the other occupants of the cabin with customary distain.

When the snap happened, he had instinctively flinched, the back of his skull hitting the headrest with a thud. He checked around to verify no one was laughing at him and was thankful to be ignored for once. Today he could relax. Today Jay White would not thrust his seat backwards and break Taichi’s nose as he had in the first seven loops.

Tachi rubbed his face absently at the memory. No matter what an irritation the man had made of himself since, the nauseating practicalities of waking him up to the time loop had been worth it.

And Jay White had turned out to have other uses. The seat directly in front of Taichi was empty now.

Taichi didn’t care for Jay, and even if he had, having his nose shattered seven days a row would have purged Taichi of his affection for anyone. Despite that, a shiver still ran over his skin. The other man’s fate was surely unpleasant. 

Better not to wonder about it too much. There was no point dithering over decisions already made.

Taichi flicked to the back of the book that was open in front of him on the tray table. It was a biography of some idol’s sordid exploits he’d borrowed from Miho. Taichi was no great reader but he’d found it quite compelling nonetheless. When setting off he had expected the thick paperback to last him the entire trip, instead he'd read it all in a single flight. In twenty minutes, if you wanted to be precise, and in this, Taichi figured he might as well be.

"You've read that fast,” said Taka from across the aisle. 

"Only for someone who can read."

Taka shook his head and returned to his game of solitaire as the plane descended for the sixteenth time.

Miho slumped over in the seat beside him, soundly asleep and gradually leaning further into his lap. Taichi re-positioned her gently, taking care not to wake her. She had experienced the plane landing safely just as many times as he had, but she still jumped at every click and mechanical whir. A few loops back, Taichi had gone to the trouble of explaining that if they did crash, Suzuki-gun had the highest chance of survival as they were at the tail of the aircraft. Miho was not comforted by this. Some people were just naturally ungrateful, he supposed.

She woke only after the plane was safely on the ground and immediately turned to gaze at him in adoration. The look of love tempered slightly when she realized where they were. Again. She pouted, her big red lips like two pieces of juicy tuna stuck to her face. 

"Babe, how much longer is this going to take?"

"Not too long. Are you getting bored?" 

"Uh, Yeah!"

Taichi stroked the side of her face with his fingers and squeezed a round cheek, making her mouth look even more fish-like.

"It won't be much longer." 

The pout intensified.

"Miho this is for the best. It’s going to pay off in the end I promise. Besides I could never do this without you." Her expression turned soft again.

A layer of her makeup came off on Taichi's hand. He wiped it off on the airplane seat discretely. 

“Here,” Taichi dug out his wallet and handed it over. No matter how much money she spent, it all ended up back in his account at the start of the next day. “Amuse yourself and stay out of my way. I’ll call you when I need you.”

Miho pouted again but didn’t argue. She gave him a peck on the cheek and squirreled the wallet away into her bag. That was her taken care of.

As soon as the seat belt sign was switched off, Taichi got up and began handing down Suzuki-gun’s bags from the overhead locker. As per usual, not one of the bastards even muttered a thank you. Taichi subconsciously added the slight to the ever-growing pile of grievances life had dealt him. He unloaded all but one of the bags, and when his faction mates were safely on their way out of the tail exit, Taichi took the last item out of the overhead locker and stuffed it inside his own large roll bag.

...

Getting up the ramp was no hassle. When Suzuki cut in line, people tended to let him by gladly and so the security checkpoint was swiftly passed. Taichi wiped Miho’s lipstick off his cheek, made his excuses to the rest of the group and headed for the hotel to see how things were coming along. 

It hadn't even been a week and the plan was progressing better than Taichi could ever have imagined. It was too bad golden boy Okada and his golden belt were elsewhere, or Taichi would have really gotten lucky. Naito was so easy to manipulate a child could play him, and Jay White had gone loopier then the time line itself. No doubt being a champion meant a larger pay check. Though Taichi didn’t know exactly how much larger. Hell! Even if all he got his hands on was the shitty US title, every company over there would be clamoring for him. Maybe he could even make the jump like that swindler Nakamura did and get paid even more.

These were Taichi’s thoughts as he swaggered into the hotel and up to the room the dead creature had reserved. Today and all days. It was open when he arrived. Jay White was pouring over himself in a mirror.

Except it wasn’t really Jay White. An smoky, distorted face leered at Taichi in the mirror’s surface.

“So what? You’re possessing him now?”

“What? Would you rather I take you instead?” The ghost grinned. “Didn’t think so. This young man is perfect. He’s so… hungry. His body is such a good fit, it barely notices the difference!”

Maybe not but Taichi could. Jay White’s face had always been pinched and pasty but now it was that of a corpse. His skin was as white as paper, almost luminescent, stretched tightly over the bones of the skull in some places, hanging loose and crumpled in others.

“You better hold your end of the deal up soon! I’m the one who’s been doing the heavy lifting here.”

“You’ll get what you deserve,” the ghost assured him. “These things take time, I’ve waited years.”

“I can tell,” Taichi muttered. Having a living mouth was clearly a point of confusion. Every sound the ghost expelled from Jay’s mouth was being given full, wet, attention. The saliva flooded out in two gross little streams out of the corners of his mouth. It made Taichi want to take a shower.

The ghost examined the dexterity of Jay’s hands, curling and uncurling the fingers.

“Only a few more loops and I can give you all the success you could ever want.”

“That’s what you keep saying,”

The ghost stuck out his tongue, checking it thoroughly in the mirror. Black spots mottled the flat of it.

“More life force would be a great deal of help,” it said, turning to Taichi expectantly, wobbling on legs it hadn't quite gotten the hang of yet.

“No way!”

“What about your lovely companion? Where is she?” 

“Even more not happening,” Taichi said firmly. “I’ll call her when I want to, worry about your own business.”

“My life force levels are my business. The possession has helped but I’m already running low, look!” 

It opened Jay’s mouth again to show off the rotted spots.  

Taichi backed towards the door, trying to breath in as little as possible. Jay’s breath had something of a graveyard’s stench, mud and rotting leaves.

“I’d better go and make a start then,” Taichi said hurriedly.  

“Like you said, there is no more time to waste, so I’m coming with you today.”

“Like hell you are!” Taichi protested, “How am I going to explain this to the guys? You look… well… How am I meant to explain why I’m hanging out with Jay White of all people? He’s not in my faction! We aren’t friends!”

“You’ll think of something,” said the ghost. It was getting pushy now it had a physical form.

Taichi watched it gaze out of the window that looked out on the hotel lobby. Through the glass walls of the atrium the outside world was still visible.  The ghost stared longingly at the sky above where the storm was escalating minute by minute. It was a persistent little creature. It would have to be, Taichi supposed, to hang on here in the living world for the years of monotony. He gathered it wasn’t the way these things usually went. Taichi had never been too interested in the philosophical stuff. And if he’d been living life for the day a little more since meeting the ghost, it was only because the one day was all he’d had.

…

“You sure it’s okay to talk in front of him?” El Desperado asked, giving Taichi some serious side-eye.

“I said it’s fine didn’t I?”

“Is he alright?” murmured Kanemaru as Jay White spilt beer down himself.

“No, he’s feeling a bit under the weather. But it’s not your problem is it? Your problem is taking out those LIJ juniors and doing it soon, no messing around, okay?”  

“Where’s the boss?” El Desperado folded his arms across his chest. “What does he think about you palling around with Chaos members? Shouldn’t he be the one giving us orders?”

“He delegated it to me. He’s at the spa. You know he doesn’t like to be bothered. Besides, this is to help you in the best of the super juniors! You should be thankful.”

“Thankful? For you telling us to go do our own dirty work?”

The problem with bringing more members of Suzuki-gun into this plan was that Taichi was unfortunately limited to manipulating the members of the faction who were easier to manipulate. Since El Desperado and Kanemaru were morons, they were perfect.

“I don’t have time for your bitching. You’ll do it right?”

El Desperado nodded unhappily.

“Yeah okay, but don’t think you get to boss us around anytime just because you put rocks in your pocket the last time you weighed in.”

God, he hated El Desperado.

The two juniors left without paying for their drinks. Bastards. Having given his wallet to Miho, Taichi hadn’t any method to pay even if he’d been inclined to. He waited until the staff were looking the other way and took off, the ghost wobbling along in tow.

“In a year those worthless scrubs will be begging for a scrap of your attention,” said the ghost cheerily. “All the rest of them too. They won’t disrespect you the way they do now.”

“They don’t disrespect me.”

The ghost grinned.

It wasn’t that Taichi couldn’t get the more senior members of Suzuki-gun onside. Of course he could. But it did take extra time and effort that was all. Taka could see right through a lie, Zack wasn’t the type to pick a fight with no benefit to himself and Suzuki was Suzuki. That limited Taichi’s strike team to Smith and Archer, if he could make himself understood in their boorish language; El Desperado and Kanemaru if he could get their heads out of their beer glasses for five minutes and Iizuka, who was only ever as effective as the person who aimed him at the enemy.

“They treat you like you don’t have a spine. But just think of how much better it will be from now on, you’ll be twice the fighter any of them are. You’re going to win Taichi.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Taichi bitterly.

“Because no matter how worthless they think you are, you’re going to have me, and I don’t lose.” 

It wouldn’t stop staring at him in that birdlike, piercing way it had. It put Taichi on edge.  

“Hey, so what happened to Jay White?” Taichi asked more to distract the ghost’s attention from further discussion of his own perceived inadequacy than anything else.

“What?”

“Jay White? The guy whose body you’re in? Did you send him to hell or something or is he in there with you?”

“Oh, he’s in here,” it said, “but don’t worry, he isn’t important anymore.”

Something clattered off to their left.

A rack of postcards had overbalanced and been knocked to the floor. Kenny Omega was standing over it, frantically trying to right it and put the postcards back on the rack. He rushed the job and the bumbling idiot only succeeded in knocking the display down a second time.

Huh.

An alarm bell rang in Taichi’s head.

He was about to bring up when-

“Taichi!” The voice cut through Taichi like a clap of thunder. Suzuki was stalking towards him on a direct collision course.

“Boss!”

Taichi shoved Jay’s body into a shopfront out of view.

“What are you doing lurking around here?” Behind Suzuki’s back the ghost was struggling to extricate himself from a rack of fur coats. “You up to something?”

“No Boss.”

“Good.”

Suzuki drifted to the store opposite, Taichi, not having been formally dismissed, followed along as Suzuki carefully compared the prices of the duty-free colognes. The ghost scowled at Taichi from the shop across the way but had the sense not to reveal itself.

“In that case I have a job for you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s pretty important Taichi, you won’t let me down, will you?” Suzuki’s teeth gleamed. He wasn’t looking at Taichi now but at a costly bottle of single malt whisky.

“Whatever it is I’ll get it done!” vowed Taichi, puffing up his chest.

“Really?”

“Of course, boss!”

“Okay then. Go pick me up some extra spicy seaweed before we leave here. The good kind. Zack tells me it’s hard to find it in London.”

Taichi’s face burned.

“I’ve got a taste for it,” continued Suzuki, putting down the whisky and looking Taichi in the eye, “And let’s get one thing straight. I know you’re up to something, but I don’t really give a shit what it is. Just tell me now, is it going to give me any trouble?”

“No boss!”

“Good.” Taichi imagined this was what it must feel like to have a shark swim past you without taking a bite. But his relief was premature, “You don’t have my small bag, do you?” Taichi felt the scrutiny of Suzuki’s eyes on his back.

“No boss. El Desperado has it.” It was easier to lie when Suzuki couldn’t see his face.

“I see. Don’t do anything stupid Taichi.”

Taichi hoped fervently that he would not.

Suzuki swam on, Taichi left behind him. Already forgotten.

The ghost reappeared at Taichi’s side its expression a mixture of amusement and disgust.

“What are you looking at?”

“Spineless,” The ghost sneered. “I told you, he doesn’t think you’re worth much… but is he wrong?”

Taichi forced the anger down. How dare it look at him like that. He was alive, wasn’t he? He was still in the game, still with everything to come. He’d waited and watched and bought seaweed and carried bags for long enough. Been ignored and bypassed for long enough. Watched others come and go and rise and fall, debut and retire, and through it all he’d clung on, hadn’t he? Taichi had tried playing by the rules, and then he’d tried chairs and sticks and hammers and even that hadn’t done it. This would work though. This was it. The US title was before him for the taking, the ghost had taken one look at it and deemed it garbage, not like the intercontinental. Not worth the effort to break. Taichi still wanted it.

“There is something you should know,” Taichi said. “I think there’s another person aware of the time loop. He’s not a friend.” 

“Oh? Who?”

Up until now only circumstances had prevented him from sharing his concerns about Kota Ibushi. Now he was glad for that. The information could prove to be valuable. Taichi always liked to keep a few high cards close to his chest when possible.

“You don’t know him,” said Taichi imperiously. “I’ll tell you when you need to know.”

The ghost frowned. Outside, the dark clouds swirled.

…

Taichi had only been dealing with magic for a week but he was already thoroughly sick of it. No matter how he laid out the chalk spell circle and stones there was always some detail the ghost found to nag him about. It was trying his last nerve. Taichi had half a mind to throw down the chalk and make it do its own dirty work. Surely now it had a physical form it could just draw the spell circles out for itself.

Then again, the ghost was still struggling with controlling the finer motions of Jay’s body, the fingers and the delicate balance of standing on two legs. Maybe drawing the lines to the kind of detail it was demanding of Taichi was still beyond its abilities.

“You need to and get the belt,” the ghost reminded him from its chair.

“There’s only so many things that I can do at once,” Taichi snapped back at it, wiping chalk off his fingers. The circle and its infernal lines were done. He dug Suzuki’s small bag out of his own, and then the lavender oil out of that. It was a dangerous theft but a necessary one.

The ghost got up and moved away when Taichi began dripping it around the circle. Its face scrunching in revulsion.

 “You could call Miho to finish this and complete the rest of the tasks now?” the ghost suggested.

“I’ll decide when to call Miho.”

“Then work faster. The belt has to be broken for me to be free!”

 “It's been broken eight times now!” complained Taichi.

“Yes, but then the spell resets reality, and it becomes whole again. It is not enough that the belt might break or will break in future. Its brokenness must be a temporal certainty so strong that the belt is broken at the beginning of the day, not just the end.”

“You need it to be broken before it breaks? That makes no sense.” Taichi muttered. The ghost waved Taichi off like he was a gnat in the air and Taichi felt his anger reach boiling point.  

“Hey! You think you’re my boss or something? I’m not going to run around like a dog for some dead creep for no reason. How do I know you’re going to hold up your end of this bargain? I’m not going to go chasing after Naito just because you tell me to. There’s more than enough time for me to take a break.” Taichi threw the oil bottle back into the bag and flung himself down on a chair.

The ghost didn’t say anything.

Taichi was congratulating himself on settling the matter assertively, when the air around him went ice cold. The temperature dropping as suddenly as if he’d just walked into a meat freezer. Taichi pulled his jacket tight around himself.

It didn’t stop there. The white walls of the terminal seemed to decay in flash, swarmed over with mold and black ooze that dripped down from the ceiling vents. Jay White’s face was barely recognizable now, so warped by the ghost that it hardly appeared human at all.

“There isn’t time,” it said in a low, menacing voice that Taichi had never heard it use before.  “There’s only my will and the opposing will of the spell. This day you are determined to waste is measured not in time but in my stamina.”

Taichi doubled over in pain. His stomach cramping.

A sharp splintering hurt ripped through his body. His flesh was tearing itself in two, coming apart at the microscopic level. Bones threatened to crack open, organs to shred themselves where they sat. Taichi could feel his skull splitting two, the halves divorcing from each other.

“This time sickness is one of many effects of the temporal seal. I have been shielding you from it out of respect for our allegiance. So, will you continue this pointless delay, or will you fulfill your end of our bargain?”

Taichi nodded and felt the two halves of his head nod at different speeds. He tried to scream but he couldn’t breathe. Blood was pouring from his nose.

Suddenly it was over as quickly as it began. The airport was back to normal. The ghost stood grinning its horrible skull-like grin before him.

“Good,” it said. “I died once already in this airport Taichi. I don’t intend to let it happen again. Go and fetch that belt.”

Jay White was taller than him, Taichi hadn’t noticed that before now. He collapsed the floor and crawled sideways like a crab, trying to stand up to preserve what dignity he could. When he finally dared to turn his back on the ghost, Miho was there, mouth gaping open and phone held loosely at her side.

“I came to find you…”

Taichi wished desperately that she hadn’t. The air crackled and for a moment fear overcame him. He grabbed Miho's hand. Not looking back, he ran from the gate, Miho clutching onto him so hard her acrylic nails left little red half-moons on his skin. They finally stopped running, long after they had they had passed from of the ghosts view and Miho wound her arms further up his shoulder.  

"How much longer?"

"Not much."

"He's so creepy like this."

"I know."

"Are you hurt?"

Taichi scoffed, "No! it was just trying to scare me. Which it didn’t obviously! It can't do anything without us! It's useless!"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Taichi lied through gritted teeth.

Miho squished her face into a quivering pout, her long black hair falling freely over Taichi's shoulder. Her eyes were pleading, but Taichi had long developed an immunity to their persuasive powers.

“Well… If you think it’s worth it…”

“It will be worth it.”

Taichi kept his voice steady and looked away from her as his thudding heartbeat began to settle.

“Okay then. Whatever you want to do, I’ll help.” Miho smiled up at him; her loyalty absolute.

Taichi gently pried her hands off his arm.

"We have to fetch Naito, and the belt too. Hopefully the idiot brigade didn't get side-tracked today."

…

They hadn’t, and when Taichi and Miho caught up to them, they already had Bushi smeared across the bathroom floor.

"Well done. You've been very industrious," snapped Taichi.

Miho handed him her phone and he took a photo, making sure to get an angle that captured the unnatural bend of Bushi's arm as well as the puddle of blood on the bathroom floor. "Now, get him to the gate."

This set El Desperado off whinging again, but Miho looked at him with those big wet eyes of hers, and there was nothing a worm like him could do in the face of that.

They manhandled the groaning Bushi out the door, switching position to support his semi-conscious body in a way that made it look to casual observers like they were helping him.  When Taichi followed them out a few yards behind, he found himself face to face with what had proven to be the only wrinkle in his otherwise completely perfect plan: Evil.

Evil, who had ruined his efforts to destroy the belt two loops ago. And done it by manipulating Kota Ibushi of all people! Still, Taichi had won yesterday hadn't he? Evil looked like he might just burst a blood vessel watching Bushi being carried away, but he must have finally caught on that it didn't matter, because he stayed in front of the bathroom door, arms folded and glaring. He'd have another chance to save Bushi tomorrow. Of course, he'd likely fuck it up again.

"Taichi. Why are you working with a spirit of the darkness? You're involving yourself in magic you don't understand.”

If Evil thought the black trench coat bejeweled with purple glitter was impressive he needed to think again. Taichi was doing black coats with glitter when Evil was still washing underwear in the dojo seven nights a week. 

"I understand enough. Let just say that at this year's G1 I’m going to have quite the deadly weapon on my side." Miho latched onto his arm and beamed in solidarity.

"You're doing this just to win the G1?” Evil’s eyes widened. “If this spirit gets its way, none of us are going to escape this airport, let alone enter the G1! This is powerful magic, it shouldn't be used to win wrestling matches."

Now Taichi knew he was lying.

"Don't give me a lecture on cheating. I overheard you, see? That's how I met our dearly departed mutual friend." Evil's face paled and Taichi felt a curl of satisfaction in his chest at the man's discomfort. "'LIJ can't keep losing.'  I think that's what you said right? On that first day?"

"It's not the same," Evil protested. "Hiromu got hurt, the best of the super juniors is in a week. I couldn't let that happen."

"I don't care," said Taichi. "Don't pretend you're any better than me. I'm not going to tell anyone anyway so don't shit your pants over it. The ghost is in my pocket now; that's what matters. I saw you do the summoning spell on that first day, you didn't notice Miho and I watching you, but it did. It asked for my help."

"The ghost offered to help you cheat in exchange for freedom?"

Taichi nodded.

"Taichi it's using you!"

"It told me you'd say that, I'll meet you in the G1 Evil. Save your pitiful powers for then. You’ll need them."

With that, Taichi swirled off before Evil could get another word in. Miho swinging off his arm making the whole movement even more dramatic. The two of them flounced away triumphantly.

"You're so brave," Miho cooed when they were out of earshot, "Standing up to a guy like that even though he's so powerful."

"I'm powerful," Taichi reminded her.

"Of course you are babe.”

 Taichi's thoughts turned to Naito.

 …

Taichi had never been able to learn LIJ’s schedule completely. Not like he had the others. Most of the wrestlers, and indeed the ordinary people coming through the airport, walked the same trails every day. Taichi could tell the time by them. Juice Robinson always ate the breakfast special at the bar straight after he got through security and was always finished at exactly 18:47. Tanahashi and Kushida were always at the French Café from 20:34 to 21:10. Kenny Omega and Kota Ibushi always wandered through the shops along the exact same route until they disappeared without fail at around seven thirty. Taichi had never bothered to check where they went after that, not wanting to have to bleach his eyeballs afterwards if he did come across them indulging their mutual fetish for depraved exhibitionism.

But in keeping with their name, Los Ingobernables had been unpredictable even from the start. Evil’s actions sent them off in different directions every day like a snooker break. Then there was his own influence to account for. Taichi’s actions were slightly different every day, he sent Suzuki-gun in different directions. They had taken Bushi out early this time. That would have a knock-on effect on the actions of the remaining members of his faction.

Taichi checked the Brazilian cafe first, but it was empty. They searched the chairs near the southern gate where he’d sometimes seen Naito and Hiromu together, sleeping and drawing respectively but no one was there either. Taichi checked his watch. The day was moving on. He was loath to split up with Miho but unless they found them soon, they would have to start considering it.

If neither Bushi or Evil were with the group, where would Hiromu, Sanada and Naito go? There was no harm in checking the playground he supposed. Hiromu often ended up there on those lucky days when fate deigned to separate him from his team mates.

Scratching sounds coming from the top of the climbing frame confirmed that today was one such lucky day.

“Babe, could you?”

Miho rolled her eyes, but she was already removing her high heels.

Taichi watched her scale the netting in her socks, she was getting faster at it every time, he noticed admiringly. Each time climbing with more confidence.

There was a muffled squawk from the top of the climbing frame. Hiromu and the intercontinental belt rattled down the slide like a couple of pachinko balls. Taichi pounced on them as they hit the bottom. He tugged the title out of Hiromu’s hands and got clawed in the face in return.

“You scratched me!”

Hiromu growled and launched himself up like a feral cat, wild and uncaring of his own vulnerability. But this wasn’t the first time Taichi had drawn him out this way and he was ready with a hard kick that blew Hiromu out of the air with practiced timing. He lay on the floor groaning as Taichi and Miho made a swift escape with the belt.

“Gosh you must have got him really hard today. He’s not following us.”

Taichi preened, “Feeling sorry for him?”

“Of course not! Look what he did to your beautiful face!”

In a moment of inspiration, Taichi wiped the blood off himself face and smeared it over the metal plating of the belt. Miho took the picture, and that was another task done. So where would Naito go now? He was either alone, or with Sanada, and if he was with Sanada that left only one place to check.

…

The suit shop Naito and Sanada were in boasted several racks of formal jackets and trousers just perfect for hiding behind. Taichi and Miho crouched behind one, peeking through the gaps in the coat hangers, confident of going unnoticed by their quarry.

"This is gorgeous," said Miho pushing a white lacy cravat in his face.

"It is," Taichi agreed "But we’re not here to shop."

Miho pouted at that, but she stopped shoving accessories under his nose, pausing to reapply her lipstick in the mirror.

In the center of the shop two elderly ladies were trying on shoes. They were small and frail but commandeered the only seat in the place with an iron will. In the face of this unconquerable force, Tetsuya Naito slouched against the wall with a look of abject misery and watched Sanada stare at himself in the mirror.

"Did you decide?" asked Naito. There was no reply. "Hey Sanada?"

"Mm?" Sanada examined the cuffs of the suit jacket.

"Are you going to get it? Did you decide?" Naito waved his hand in front of the other man's face to no avail.

Miho put the cap back on her lipstick and ran her hands through her long black hair. "How do I look?" she asked Taichi.

"Lovely as ever, now go!"

Miho swirled out into the floor of the shop. Naito looked relieved to have his boredom alleviated, no matter if it was by the appearance of an enemy. Taichi felt immense regret at causing even this small positive event in the wretched man’s life.

She slid her phone out of the pocket of her coat and showed he and Sanada the photographs of Bushi, of the bloodied belt. All Taichi could see was Naito's back, but he knew the man well enough to watch for the stiffening of his shoulders, to notice the way Naito shifted his body weight onto both feet. Preparing for a fight.   

"Be at the gate in ten minutes if you want them back," Miho told them, and scampered out the door while Naito was still gathering his wits. The trap was set.

The thing that really tickled Taichi was that there was no need for pretense, there was no trick. They had Naito over a barrel, Taichi knew it and Naito knew it too. But he had no choice but to fulfill his role as the world’s biggest sucker if he wanted Bushi and the belt back. In his anger, Naito had already broken the belt eight times in eight different loops. The odds were good it would happen again. 

Taichi slipped out to join Miho and ran straight into a flustered looking Kenny Omega for the second time that day. 

"Get out of my way,"

Taichi muttered and pushed past him. Only a few minutes later did it strike him that this wasn't right. Omega didn't walk around the shops alone, certainly not this late in the day, and if he was alone where was Ibushi? But by the time he spun round to look, Omega was hidden behind the crowd.

Miho met him by the ice cream store. She took his arm and they set off; preparations complete. Taichi tried not to slow his strides as they returned to the gate, but as they got closer his skin prickled and he couldn’t suppress a shudder at the memory of how the darkness had felt. Miho was latched on his arm, a warm and comforting presence. He swallowed his doubts. He'd told her it would be worth it.

It looked like the ghost had finally gotten the hang of staying upright without wobbling while they'd been gone. It held Jay's head high and his shoulders back proudly but when they drew closer, Taichi saw Jay's feet weren't carrying him at all. They hovered a few inches off the ground, legs swinging in the air as if from the gallows as it floated back and forth in front of the magic circle. The scent of the stolen lavender oil was overpowering even from several yards away, and the ghost was keeping a healthy distance from it. 

"I got the belt. Naito is on his way now, he'll be here any minute."

Taichi wasn't fool enough to expect thanks from the creature. The ghost gave him a cursory nod.

“I’m running low on life, if you wouldn’t mind, a kiss is in order. I’m not fussy, either of you will do.” It looked expectantly at them both.  

The black spots were starting to show around Jay’s mouth. Gross.

“You can make it through the next spell,” Taichi said tightly.  

“Maybe,” the ghost wheedled, “but it uses up so much of my power every time. Besides, there may be trouble from your enemies.”

“My enemies? You mean Evil?”

“It was another, he was lurking around earlier.”

Taichi frowned.

“Wait… stupid hair? Big white t-shirt? Good looking if you're a simpering idiot?"

"Yes! He was exactly like that!"

"Okay," Taichi hedged, "Okay. Well I don’t think he’ll be too much trouble."

There was the sound of boots on the marble behind them.

It was Naito, and he wasn't alone. To his right was Bushi, his face bloodless and pale and his arm in a sling. Bushi was being steadied by Sanada but walked under his own power. To Naito's left were Hiromu and Evil. Hiromu had a glare locked onto Taichi, alternating it with concerned glances towards the captive intercontinental title. His cheekbone sported a dark bruise from the toe of Taichi's boot. Evil flanked Hiromu's other side, striding forward with determination. Naito smirked despite the injuries to his fellows. Smirked like Taichi had been the one caught in a trap.

“Oy letch? It seems like you’ve been causing trouble. And with the knife pervert too?” Naito’s arms hung loosely at his sides. “That’s no good Taichi.” He shook his head.

There was a clatter nearby and Taichi spun around to see Kenny Omega running for the ghost, a stone as black as coal nestled in his arms.

"Hey!"

Before Taichi could take a step, the ghost dived at Omega with full force, as if in lieu of any technical fighting skill it had opted to simply throw Jay's entire body at the enemy, taking itself along for the ride.

Omega wriggled out from the tangle of limbs in time for Ibushi to appear and kick Jay sideways into the lavender oil laced edge of the spell circle.

"Stop them! Get that stone away from here!” the ghost screeched at Taichi, smoke rising from Jay's skin where the oil had touched it. Taichi moved to obey but was shoved off course by Ibushi.

Taichi moved to knock him down but Naito was there, grabbing him in a bear hug and tackling him to the floor. Taichi never had a chance.

Backed up against the edge of the painful circle, surrounded by Omega, Ibushi and Evil on all sides the ghost began to flicker, it's true face spilling out from behind Jay's.

“I’ll curse you all!” howled the ghost. “Don’t send me back! I can do so much for you! I can make you powerful! All of you!”

Evil nodded to Kenny who carefully rolled the stone in the ghost’s direction and then took a step back. The ghost blistered in rage, its smoky being vibrating at the force of its anger.

It was barely able to keep itself in Jay's body. The grey tendrils wrapped themselves around Jay’s arms and legs, their only protection from the magnetic pull of the stone which was sucking them in like a black hole.

So distracted was Naito by the bizarre sight in front of him, his grip on Taichi loosened. 

“He was the one who summoned me?! Did he tell you that?!” the ghost yelled, pointing at Evil with a smoky, shifting appendage.

Evidently Ibushi and Omega were aware of it, because they didn’t bat an eye. The three of them stood firm, waiting for the ghost to be pulled clear from Jay. It alternated between threats and bribery, twisting desperately more and more tendrils of smoke thrashing in the air around Jay.

Evils fingers twitched and a small scroll of paper fell from his sleeve into his hand. He unfurled it and began to read the spell, and at the sound of his low steady chanting, more of the ghost’s matter ripped out of Jay and was sucked towards the stone.

The ghost wailed.

“Taichi! Help me!” it gurgled.

Taichi stepped forward, prompting Naito to grab him again. He made a token effort to get out of Naito’s grip and then gave up.

“I can’t,” Taichi protested. “I can’t help you.”

“Useless!” the ghost howled. “You’re a spineless failure! Disgusting!”

Taichi felt his face turn red. He bent his head and the ghost laughed a bitter wet laugh.

“You’re never going to be any better than what you already are. A worthless mediocre underling. You’re going to work and work, and it’s never going to be worth it!”

Miho had been standing next to him, but when the ghost said this she stepped away. Taichi’s heart sank in shame.

“Your allies know it. Your rivals that surround you know it. They aren’t bothering to hold you back. They know you’ve given up.”

A tear rolled off Taichi's chin and splattered on the toe of his shoe. Naito wasn’t holding him anymore, his arms were still looped around Taichi, but it was more of a hug than a hold now, there for pity. He didn’t want to be pitied by the likes of him. 

“There’s nothing I can do.” Taichi told the floor.  

“There is!” the ghost urged. “But you already gave up! You aren’t even trying to finish what you started. This was your last chance to be somebody!”

Evil’s voice droned on under the ghost’s words, his banishing spell knitting into existence.

Taichi closed his eyes.

What happened next came so fast not one of the spectators could move quickly enough to stop it. Miho leapt forward and grabbed the stone from the floor, swinging it at Evil’s head and catching him on the side of the skull, sending him to the floor like a bag of bricks.

She went to where the ghost was flailing in agony and pulled his rotten mouth into a kiss. As she did, a black hole seemed to emanate from them, sucking in light and color. Jay’s skin became alive again, his hair glossy and the ghost was able to contain itself within him once more. It looked strong, almost alive. 

Miho locked eyes with Taichi. Her face was red and wet with tears like his own.

“Don’t give up.”

Taichi’s hopes ran bright across his mind once more.

A wave of raw power exploded from the ghost, knocking back everyone but Taichi and Miho back, sending them down to the ground as easily as a line of dominoes.

“This is more like it!” The ghost was crackling with life force, filled to the brim with terrible energy. It grinned at Taichi who returned the expression hesitantly. “No hard feelings?”

“Our deal is still on?”

“Just as before,” the ghost assured him.

“But the circle is smudged.”

“It can be fixed,” the ghost patted Taichi on the shoulder with strength to break bones. “And anyway, with enough raw life force at my fingertips, the rules of the spell casting aren’t so important.”

A piece of chalk flew past, floating in the air that was thick with magic. It drew over the breaks in the chalk lines and the circle glowed with the energy of the spell. 

Ibushi groaned a few feet away, struggling to get up. Miho smiled over at Taichi and he felt a wave of excitement and apprehension rising inside him.

The ghost raised the belt above his head and slammed it down on the marble floor. 

Crack

Metal chunks of the belt exploded off into all directions. The ghost twirled its fingers and time whipped around all of them in its irresistible whirlpool.

Taichi hoped desperately that he wasn't doing something incredibly stupid.

Chapter Text

"THOSE CHEATING ASSHOLES!" Kenny yelled. “THOSE- oh! uh.. sorry... um...it’s nothing," he stuttered at the sharp disapproval radiating from their fellow passengers. "I just...uh... I got caught up in a game, you know how it is. Video games.”   

They were back on the flight. Again.

Kota clicked his seat belt open and stood up, craning his neck to search the seats behind them for Taichi and Miho. 

"This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has been switched off."

Kenny ignored the remaining nasty looks being sent his way and stood up as well. "They’re at the tail somewhere, right? With the rest of Suzuki-gun? I can see Suzuki over there."

"They’ve got to be," Kota agreed. The familiar sickness was curling through in his bones in horrible waves of aching cold. It made it hard to think, hard to move. He swayed and ended up leaning against Kenny, whose warm hand moved up to rest between Kota's shoulder blades. 

"I can't see them anywhere."

A flight attendant clicked down the aisle on her polished heels. "Excuse me gentlemen,” she asked with frosty politeness “we're about to begin landing procedures? Please return to your seats."

Kota had never paid much attention to layout of the plane, but from what he remembered of the last seven loops, it looked as though everything was as it always had been. The wrestlers were spread out over the back sixteen rows of the aircraft, broken up by people Kota had paid even less attention to; lone office workers, gaggles of holiday makers and the occasional weary family. Tanahashi was sitting two rows back, glaring at them to sit down; a few seats along from him Kushida was watching them with a concerned expression; Taka, ten rows back, was smirking at the flight attendant who was asserting again, more firmly this time, that Kenny and Kota sit down at once. The rest of Suzuki-gun were dotted around him, all except for Taichi and Miho.

"Maybe they’re hiding?"

"Evil isn't here either," Kenny said, twisting around to check the rows in front. "He usually sits with Sanada, right? It’s empty now."

"Then where…?"

Bang! 

The airplane jolted and Kenny was knocked into the aisle.

Kota pulled him to his feet in time for the plane to swoop and shudder. This time it was Kota who fell into Kenny and almost sent them toppling over again.

"Sit down!"

The flight attendant was holding onto the seats with a white-knuckle grip, her teeth gritted. Kenny and Kota finally obeyed. She stalked off up the aisle muttering, holding her arms out like a tightrope walker and steadying herself on the seats as the whole cabin swayed wildly.  

"What are we going to do without Evil?"

"I don't know. Will the plane be able to land in this weather?"

"Probably,” said Kenny, “It will probably be okay. It depends how low the storm clouds are."

Bang!

This couldn't be an ordinary storm. The rain was so thick it rolled over the windows in great curtains of water. It did feel like they were descending, but the airport, if it was out there at all, was completely hidden by malicious grey cloud. The wind shook the aircraft again suddenly, making Kota bang his elbow on the armrest. The hurt barely registering against the background pain of being pulled through time. His whole body ached like it was being stretched apart and crushed together simultaneously. It was the same way Kota had felt when the intercontinental belt had been about to break. The atoms of the universe quivering with the promise of it. 

"Hey, you’re all wet!" Kenny pulled at Kota’s t-shirt.

"What?"

“You’re soaking! Look!”

Kota felt cold sliminess on his skin and looked down. He was drenched, head to toe.

“Is it leaking through the window?”

Before Kota could find out, he felt his palm slice open and gasped at the pain. Kenny winced beside him; his blue eyes wide. A cut was carving itself onto his head. It was the one he’d got from Iizuka two loops ago.

"Your hand!"

"Your head!"

Crack!

Chapter Text

The whole plane lurched. Flinging them forward and back against their seats.

Kota checked his hand.

The blood was gone. His clothes were dry. 

“Was that the belt breaking?!”

“Did we just go back in time again?”

“Yeah,”

“But how was it so soon after the last one?” Kenny rubbed the back of his skull where it had collided with the headrest.

Kota unbuckled his seat belt and sprang up, stopping dead at what he saw.

The cabin was empty.

The small persistent haze of noises, of people rustling their backpacks and chattering in low voices was silent. Nothing layered over the uncomfortable sounds of the aircraft’s hidden machinery and the storm churning outside. As far as he could see, they were the only ones on board

"This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has been switched off."

"Hello?!" Kenny shouted into the empty cabin.

Clang

The sound rang through the metal body of the plane.

"Do you think there's still a pilot?"

They looked at each other in alarm.

Kenny scrambled to beat on the door to the cockpit, while Kota searched up and down the vacant rows. There were no bags on or under seats. No sign that anyone apart from the two of them had ever been on board at all.

The plane swayed to the right and the lights of the cockpit flickered off and on.

In the darkness, Kota caught sight of something outside the window, or someone.

It was a man. He was on the wing tip of the aircraft, unperturbed by wind and rain. Unaffected by the speed at which the plane was hurtling through the air. He hung in the air like a hummingbird; blurring at the edges.

He waved at Kota.

"Kenny! There's someone..."

Kota blinked and the figure on the wing vanished.

"Hey!"

There was a yell from behind.

Kota twisted round in time to see Jay White phase through the shell of the aircraft, wet with rain and stained with blood from the waist down. A knife flashed in his hand. Kenny was backed up against the cockpit door.

Jay raised his hand above Kenny's head.

Kota ran too slowly towards them.

The knife came down.

Crack!

Chapter Text

Kota's body was snapped back into his seat. He grabbed for Kenny’s arm, but he wasn't there. The seat next to Kota’s was empty.

He clicked his seat belt open and hurried to the tail end of the plane and back up to the pilot's door again, just to check the plane was as it appeared to be, completely empty.

He was alone.

Kota knocked on the door to the cockpit.

No answer.

He tried not to panic. 

"Kenny?"

Nobody spontaneously reappeared when he wandered back to the center of the plane. He searched the empty rows anyway.

“Hello?” His voice came out dry and brittle.

An automated bell rang clean in the silence.

"This is a passenger announcement. Please remain in your seat until the seat belt sign has  been switched  off."

Out of the window there was only grey, no way to tell if the plane was coming into land or not. Could it land without a pilot? If no one was there to control it would it just keep flying on in a straight until it ran out of fuel? Would the wind pull it down before that? Kota didn’t know the answers. He hated flying.   

The sight of the ghost’s knife coming down replayed in his memory. The sound of it carving through flesh and bone.

He was going to be sick.

Boom!

The walls of the cabin swung around like the drum of a giant washing machine. Kota was sent sprawling onto the ceiling, banging his shoulder on the side of the overhead luggage compartment.

The cabin stilled, and Jay White appeared before him, his knife now the length of a his forearm and dripping with fresh red blood. In his other hand he held the strap of the intercontinental belt.

Jay advanced slowly, his face unnaturally pale, glowing an unearthly light.

"Hold still."

He swung the knife and Kota dived away. The blade caught the edge of a headrest and sliced a corner of it clean off.

“No need to resist. Death is inescapable. And if it isn’t then I will be the first.”

The knife spun in the air. Droplets of blood flew off and splattered on Kota’s face.

Kota made to kick the Jay’s legs out from under him, but he hovered upwards an inch above the ground, face twisting into a blood-soaked grin.

Jay whipped the intercontinental title against the floor of the plane and there was another boom that vibrated through Kota’s bones. Charge was building in the air. Kota felt his clothes start to drip with water from another timeline, felt his hand sting as the gash carved itself back into his palm.

Jay jerked the knife forward and Kota scrambled away, tripping over his own feet in the cramped cabin and landing hard.

The figure looming over him barely resembled Jay White anymore. It had a human shape, but that shape was accentuated by a fuzzy mist of black smoke that quivered around his outline. When Jay spoke Kota could see more mist behind his teeth and down his throat. It leaked from his nostrils when he breathed.

“Rest easy and let the flow of the river take you.”

The ghost beat the intercontinental belt against the floor again and advanced closer. Kota shrank back, feeling the back of his head bump the cockpit door. There was nowhere left to escape to.

On instinct he kicked again to sweep Jay’s legs out from under him again. The ghost hovered for a second and then descended, one of Jay’s boots resting heavy on Kota’s leg.

“Now why would you be fool enough to try that twice?”

It brought the flat of the knife next to Kota’s chest and wiped it clean on his t-shirt. The fabric caught on the edge of the blade and peeled away.

The ghost raised the knife to bring down a killing blow and Kota cringed away from it, rolling on his side out of the path of the blade. That was when he felt something hard and round in his pocket. The gemstones Evil had given him. Not in this timeline, but in another.

He pulled one out and threw it at the ghost’s feet. The world around them didn’t dissipate into smoke and Kota felt his last hope die.

“Those vile little things cannot banish me. You are strong, there are stronger, but I have already dealt with them. It would try my energy to bind you as well, I think. And though strong you may be, you have very little natural magical ability.”

The ghost kicked the stone away where it had fallen in its path and the black membrane of smoke shrank away from Jay’s foot as it did so, not wanting to touch it more than necessary.

 “You’re only awake because this body awoke you.” The ghost was looking at Kota with amusement. “He looks upon you with so much respect. I wonder why? You seem perfectly boring to me. Content to live life caught on the tide.”

Kota slipped a second stone into his bloody palm. He would only get one chance.

“I like this boy,” the ghost continued. “He knows what is important. To live and be strong and to make the world see it. When I am alive again, he will watch me from behind these eyes and he will be glad that his body is mine.”   

The ghost bent down, bringing his face close. Kota could see the smoke on his tongue.

“Lay down and die.”

Kota brought his fist to its lips and forced the stone into them. Cupping his hand over Jay’s pallid face until he saw his throat swallow. The ghost began to scream and gurgle, grey smoke pouring everywhere.

Jay’s arm moved to cast a spell and Kota felt time begin to whirl around them.

Chapter Text

Back in his seat. A knife raised above his head.

Kota tore open his seat belt and rolled into the aisle. The ghost was draped over the back of the chair in front of him, heaving out loud wet breaths, oily black sweat pouring off its forehead. The knife meant for Kota's heart had been plunged into the chair, cutting through it like cake until it was buried to the hilt. The ghost ripped it out.

Kota’s clothes were already damp. His palm already starting to sting. The ghost slithered out between the seats. The black substance of its smoke turning to thick sludge that congealed over the seat covers as it brushed against them. Snapping time back had removed the gem from the ghost's insides but the damage had been done. 

The plane dipped and bounced; Kota stumbled backwards in the direction of the plane’s tail.

“Another trick... I will not fall for twice,” the ghost oozed. As it spoke a string of dark, slimy saliva escaped its mouth and dribbled down to the end of its chin. Its tongue swung out like a pendulum to reclaim it but only succeeded in smearing more of the tar-like spittle around Jay’s face.

The floor bounced. The nose of the plane pitched lower than the back now. It was coming in to land one way or another.

The ghost threw itself towards Kota, pouring smoke into the knife which grew into sword, slashing at thin air with all the skill and precision of jet turbine. He whipped it left and right, taking off the cushioned tops of seats. Kota dodged backwards and felt the cabin tilt further. The incline of the floor becoming steeper and steeper, sending Kota tumbling back towards the point of the blade.

He grabbed onto one of the rows of seats, climbing onto the back of them. The plane was nearly vertical.

The ghost waited at the bottom, standing on the door of the cockpit and sucking in heavy, rattling breaths around the dark blood spilling from its mouth.  Jay’s face now even more sickly than it had looked before Miho’s kiss had refreshed its energy.

The ghost began to cough, and the plane shuddered.

The cut on Kota’s palm had opened. His pocket was heavy again.

Kota tossed a green stone down onto Jay. The ghost screeched when it hit its face and flickered for a second before vanishing.

The nose of the plane swung up. Kota looked out of the window and saw the ghost back on the wing.

Kota ripped open the emergency exit door, gems in hand. He stepped out onto the wing and took aim.  

His first throw would have hit it square in the head, but the ghost, expression angry and terrified, was already whirling his fingers around in a horribly familiar action. The static in the air built and-

Chapter Text

This time around, the air was different from the first breath. Kota barely had time to notice as he threw off his seat belt and leapt up. The ghost was hovering at the center of the cabin, spilling its strange light over walls which were leaking slimy black ooze.

Kota walked towards the ghost. Somehow he was no longer wearing his jeans but the last few stones were clutched tightly in his palm. The ghost saw him coming and phased through the side of the plane and onto the wing, Kota wrenched open the emergency door and followed it.

Outside everything was dark; the only steady light came through the porthole windows. The plane was still but it had landed on uneven ground and was tipped forward slightly.

“I’ll take you back to your friends, that’s what you want right?! You can have that, who ever said you couldn’t? This fight is unnecessary for both of us!” Dark inky blood was dripping from the ghost’s mouth. All that magic it had used had come at a cost. “Come with me and you can be with everyone else. You want to see your friends again, don’t you? You can! I’ll take you to them.”

The navigation lights at the end of the wing blinked and illuminated the knife in Jay’s hand.

Kota threw two stones at the ghost’s face and it howled when they impacted. It flew down from the wing of the plane and hovered below, knife outstretched. Kota drew his last stone from his pocket, nestled it in his fist and dived off the edge.

His fist hit something soft and wet. The stone slipping out of it and touching against something that started to sizzle.

The ghost screeched in agony and whipped away into the darkness.

Kota landed hard, shoulder first in a bank of snow. He waited to see if the darkness around him was going to spiral and become the plane again, or perhaps disappear into a cloud of smoke and reform itself into his bedroom. It did not. He sat up, cradling his naked shoulder.

There was a dripping sound coming from somewhere out in the darkness.

The plane had landed nose first into a mound of snow, half of it submerged under a drift. Something inside it had caught fire and the plane was beginning to burn. Kota scrambled away, sliding down the slope, his feet meeting flat ice just as an explosion shook the wreckage.

The light given out by the fire showed glass walls in the blackness, shimmering with the fire’s reflection. Was he still in the airport? How had the snow gotten in? Kota wandered away from the burning wreckage, head buzzing. He wasn’t wearing jeans or a shirt anymore. The latter had been cut off in a previous loop, he remembered, but that wasn’t the strangest thing. His clothes had been replaced by his ring gear. At least he wasn’t completely naked. Another illusion then? Why else would there be snow in Bangkok? 

Something was moving out in the darkness. There was the sound of metal knocking against metal. It rumbled like thunder through the empty skeleton of the building. Then voices, echoed and distorted. There were footsteps on marble, so far away they were almost lost in the silence.

Kota started picking his way over the ice, ears straining for more sound.

The air was wet and his sweat clung to his back despite the cool temperature. His boots crunched on more ice underfoot and he slowed down, wary of slipping, trying to shake off the twinge of pain of his shoulder. Nothing seemed to change as Kota walked, the light of the burning plane getting fainter and fainter, until he could barely see at all. There was no sign of civilization, no sign of anything at all. He was considering going back the way he’d come to wait by the plane wreckage until sunrise when he collided with someone.

“Sorry!” he said reflexively, “Are you okay?”

No answer.

It was definitely a person. Kota’s hand found a shoulder and shook it.

“Hello?”

The stranger wobbled with Kota’s movement but did not respond. Kota’s hand slipped onto their neck. It was damp like everything here and cold as the snow. Kota jumped backwards; suddenly certain he was touching something that should be in its grave.

He navigated blindly past the body and shuffled further until he hit another one. This time he kept his hands to himself past the first bump.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

If his voice trembled there was no one to hear it.

The body offered no reply.

Kota stopped asking after that, afraid of the tremble in his own voice, but he bumped into many more as he walked onward. All frozen, standing upright. Though they swayed slightly when he collided with them, they never fell. Like buoys on the ocean, knocked by waves but never sunk. Off in the distance a source of light twinkled, and Kota felt a rush of relief. He was shivering badly now, and he began walking faster through the figures. His outstretched fingers catching on hair and clothes, shoulders. An ice-cold face.

The light, whatever it was, was coming from a front pocket on one of the bodies.

Kota fumbled with it. Trying to think about the usefulness of having a light in the darkness and not about the cold flesh lurking under the shirt. He closed his hand over the little object and stole it out.

It was one of Evil’s green stones. The kind he’d thrown at the ghost. It was the size of a broad bean and it gave off no more light then a firefly. Kota held it between his thumb and forefinger and its meager light illuminated the face of its owner.

The eyes of Tetsuya Naito moved.

Kota sprang back, hitting another cluster of bodies behind. They swayed but didn’t fall. Upright and solid as gravestones.

“Naito?”

He held the glowing stone up to Naito’s face, but the eyes didn’t move again.

Maybe it had simply been a trick of the light. Naito was as cold and still as the rest of them had been. On his left shoulder was a spreading crust of ice that clutched onto his skin. There was ice growing up his legs too, out of the frozen ground.

Could he try to wake him up? How would he even go about it if he could? He spent a few minutes trying to break the ice on Naito’s left shoulder but only succeeded in chipping off a tiny chunk, the cut on his own palm partially reopening in the effort of it.

Though terrified, Kota now found himself lingering, trying to think of excuses not to leave Naito, but in the end the only way forward was clear.

“Please excuse me. I need to take this,” Kota whispered, clutching the glowing stone.

The ice crystals swelled further across Naito’s chest like a terrible scab, slowly sealing in his whole body. It was the urge to get away from that sight which finally drove Kota on. He looked back after a couple of steps, but now the stone was in his hand it no longer illuminated Naito, and the shape of him fell away into the blackness with the rest.

The ice shifted and cracked as Kota stepped on it, and by the light of the stone, he saw that it covered an ocean swirling underneath.

The other bodies he had passed, what if he had known them too? He stopped. Terrified at the thought he might have left Kenny behind somewhere, frozen in ice. From then on Kota checked, but the next few bodies he encountered were all strangers.

Besides, Kenny hadn't been frozen in ice. He hadn't been frozen in ice because he'd been on the plane with Kota, because the ghost had... Kota ended the thought before it could overwhelm him, and marched forward.

The first break in the silence was the sound of running water, and the first light of dawn soon followed it. In the grey light Kota could see the white skeletal frame of the airport to the south, whether it extended all the way over the frozen sea Kota couldn't tell. The shell of the building wasn't intact, it hung in the sky cracked and scattered like everything else.  

The beach at the edge of the ocean was spotted with airport debris; broken chairs, suitcases and various machines unplugged from their purpose and dumped here. There wasn't much natural beauty to be spoiled. The sand, what little there was of it, was a dull grey, the waves that broke on the beach were sullen and sickly. Black cliffs rose up above the bay, split in two by a single steep valley, and it was from that valley that the running water poured into the silence. A flat path to the right of it was the only way forward. Kota walked up it for about half a mile when he heard a shout.

"Hey! Star-san! Hey!"

"Hiromu!?" Kota shouted back in delight. He ran up a bend in the path and came face to face with a makeshift barricade, constructed from airport debris and driftwood. Hiromu stood on top, clad in his fluffy ring jacket. "Hiromu how did you get here?"

"Me? How did you get here?"

Sanada and Bushi climbed up onto the barricade next to Hiromu, peering down in their usual enigmatic fashion. Kota had never been happier to see any of them.

"The plane crashed, I think. It's back there." Kota gestured back the way he'd come. “Is Evil with you?"

Hiromu shook his head. Kota wondered how he'd gotten all the way over here. He hadn't been on the plane when it landed and yet he, Sanada and Bushi all looked to be present and unhurt. 

"Have you seen anyone else?"

"Tanahashi-san actually," Hiromu informed him with a wicked grin, "He was just here, but we sent him back up the river, didn't we?" Sanada nodded silently. 

Kota walked up to the door in the front of the barricade but Hiromu didn't open it immediately. He peered down at Kota's face, examining him.

"You have nice eyes Ibushi-san," he remarked.

"Um... thank you?"

"Very nice eyes," Hiromu's own eyes watched Kota from his perch, unblinking. "I think I shall let you in. But you need to come through security, that's the rule. We are in an airport after all."

"Security?"

The door opened and Kota got his first look behind the barricade. Perhaps, despite all appearances, Hiromu was right and they were still somehow inside the airport. Where else would they have found the plastic trays and the conveyor belt? How else would that conveyor belt be running when the end of the power cable was buried in the ground? They didn’t have everything however, in place of the x-ray machine there was only a cardboard box with a hole cut roughly in the side.

Hiromu hopped down from the barricade, Bushi and Sanada following him. They were both wearing their masks.

"Put all your belongings in the tray in front of you! Liquids go separately, empty your pockets!"

Kota tried to figure out if Hiromu was joking. 

"I don't have any pockets." 

“No pockets huh? What about what is in your hand? Put it in the tray!” called Bushi, his voice unusually hoarse and croaky. Sanada nodded in solidarity beside him. There was something sinister about those masks.

“Go ahead Ibushi-san,” said Hiromu sweetly. “Don’t mind those two, they listen to me.”

Kota surrendered his green stone with some reluctance and put it on the plastic tray. It was carried by the conveyor belt through the cardboard box. Hiromu paced around them all, stopping to study Kota through the 'metal detector', which was a piece of driftwood balanced between two tree branches.

“This magic stone is stolen,” Bushi concluded.

“I didn’t steal it,” Kota protested. 

“Stealing precious treasure huh?” Hiromu tutted, “I had a feeling you couldn’t be trusted. Step through the detector then Ibushi-san.”

Kota stepped under the driftwood.

“BEEP BEEP BEEP!” Hiromu yelled at the top of his voice. “Oh dear! Do you perhaps have any weapons on you that you have not declared?”

“Hiromu, please just let me past. I’m sorry I took the stone,” Kota pleaded. “I needed it. I have to find Evil. Have you seen him?”

“Search him.”

Sanada stepped forward and patted down Kota’s arms and neck, as if he could be hiding anything under his bare skin. When he got down to Kota’s legs, he looked back at the other two and shook his head.

“Dangerous weapons,” said Hiromu with glee, and all three of them were on him in a flash. Bushi and Sanada seizing an ankle each and Hiromu sitting on his arms, pinning them into the mud.

“Sorry Ibushi-san, I’m sure you’ll agree your knees are just too dangerous! You’ll have to leave them here with us.”

Sanada retrieved a long, jagged piece of metal. Kota struggled to escape but Bushi’s hands were unnaturally strong, their grip so tight it threatened to crush his bones. It didn’t feel human.

“Give us your postal address and we can mail your belongings on to you!” Hiromu said cheerily. “It might hurt a bit, but it’s safer for everyone this way.” The two of them pulled at his arms and legs, on the verge of wrenching him apart.

But though freeing his legs from Bushi was impossible, Hiromu’s grip on Kota’s arms was at least human. The mud let Kota slip his right hand free and grab a handful of Hiromu’s long hair.

“Hey!”

Hiromu rolled off Kota’s arms, stumbling away and knocking the cardboard X-ray machine off the table. The contents of it fell out and landed on the ground. 

Kota scrambled for the stone and closed his hand over it.

He lifted himself up on his elbows in time to see Sanada raising his makeshift surgical saw. His mask had come off in the fray and there was something very wrong with his eyes. They were blank. Pure white.

Kota hurled the stone and as soon as its green surface hit Sanada’s chest he exploded into a pillar of smoke, and vanished on the air, the saw clattering to the ground.

Kota kicked Bushi in the face with his leg. Bushi didn’t react at all to it, but the force of the blow was enough that Kota could twist free of him. He picked up the stone again and threw it at Bushi. Another plume of grey smoke and only Kota and Hiromu were left, panting on the sand.

“You puffed my friends into smoke!” Hiromu yowled.

“Don’t try and cut my legs off!”

Hiromu deflated at that and the sides of his mouth twitched, his mood shifting from murderous to amused, as if the whole thing had been a hilarious joke Kota had failed to see the funny side of.  

“I was only playing. You actually are still you, aren’t you?” he said, “the real you.”

“I think so...? Listen, we really need to find Evil, so if you know where he is-”

"I know where he is," said Hiromu haughtily, "he's upriver with the rest. What I want to know is where you got that stone from. You stole it from Naito-san! What did you do to him?!”

“I didn’t do anything to him! He’s back there somewhere on the sea. There’s all these... these bodies…”

Hiromu grimaced. He picked up the green gemstone from where it had fallen and examined it. “I thought I was the only one left for a while. I’m glad to be wrong. Always be yourself Star-san, it’s the only way to be.”

And with that he waved and strode off the way Kota had come.

“Wait!” Kota called after him, but he didn’t stop. Kota climbed atop the abandoned barricade and watched him run off over the short horizon onto the black gloom of the ocean. The little glow of the stone only visible for a minute or so before it was swallowed up by the blackness.

…

Upriver more airport debris were scattered on the barren land among sharp black rocks and driftwood. Kota passed rows of chairs, recycling bins; even an arrivals screen hanging from a tree branch diligently showing the incoming flights from Paris, Moscow and Hong Kong. Like Hiromu’s conveyor belt it wasn’t plugged into anything, its wires trailing into the river where they were buffeted back and forth on the swell. The river was shallow, but it widened steadily. It continued up into the horizon as far as Kota could see.

As he rounded a bed, he sighted a figure standing at the edge of the water, cleaning mud and blood off his face and white coat. Kota tried to quell his disappointment at who it wasn’t and be content to have found an ally who would undoubtedly be helpful.

"Hello?" Kota called from a safe distance, somewhat wary after his meeting with Hiromu. "Tanahashi-san? Is it you?" 

"Ibushi!"

Ibushi stepped closer, “Yes it’s me.” Tanahashi drooped in relief and then winced, clutching his chest. There was vertical gash running down it. A straight shallow cut all the way from his throat down to the top of his stomach.

“Did Hiromu cut you?”

“Him?” Tanahashi chuckled and shook his head, "No, he didn't do this. There's worse here than him." Despite the shallowness of the wound, the blood had gotten everywhere, even the ends of Tanahashi's golden mane were matted with it. "If I told you how I got it, I don't think you would believe me."

"I might. Who else have you seen here? Besides Hiromu?"

Tanahashi gritted his teeth and winced. Kota moved closer and Tanahashi leaned on him gratefully, closing his eyes tight until the pain passed.

“Never mind that now. There’s something important…” Tanahashi reached into his pocket with one shaking hand and pulled out a dirty handkerchief. He opened it carefully to reveal Evil’s travel scissors, their glowing light betraying their magical nature.

"How did you get these?”

“Ibushi…this is going to be hard to hear…”

 A splashing noise from downriver made both of them start. Was Hiromu following him after all? Or someone else? The sight of Sanada and Bushi’s blank eyes, white as cue balls wouldn’t leave Kota’s mind.

"Come on, we have to keep going. Evil is upriver, he'll know how to get us out of here." Kota tugged Tanahashi along with him. "Who else have you met exactly?”

But Tanahashi didn’t seem to have heard him. There was a cut on his head and the blood from it was trickling down into his eyes. He wiped them with his sleeves, keeping them shut tight against the pain.

“The scissors…” He was still holding them out, still wrapped in the handkerchief, Kota tried to take them but Tanahashi took them back. "Listen... you need to be careful. Can I rely on you?"

"Of course,"

"Be alert."

"Okay."

"Really be alert."

Kota was wondering if it was worth stopping to let Tanahashi recover for a few minutes when he heard splashing from downriver again. Louder and closer than before.

Tanahashi cursed at the sound.

“Don’t be concerned with me. You have to hurry. I’ll survive. In fact, it may be safer for you to leave me here.”

That only made Kota hold onto him tighter, practically dragging him up the path now. Tanahashi didn’t fight him, though Kota could feel him trying and failing to take his own weight.

They reached a fork in the river, the water rushing loud and white around a scattering of large black boulders. The bulk of the water was coming from the leftmost stream, which was coming down a rocky but fairly climbable looking waterfall. The stream on the right was flat and slow moving, marshland draining off slowly into the river. As he tried to decide which way would be best, he felt Tanahashi let go of his shoulder and finally stand up under his own power.

“Ibushi…”

“Which way do you think it is?”

WHAM!

A savage blow caught Kota on the back of the head. He was thrown into the river, landing badly on his ankle and feeling it roll sickeningly underneath him. Kota ignored the pain and pushed himself up, fighting to get out of the water.

Tanahashi pushed him back down. His eyes wide open and glowing white,

“What!? Hey!”

But Tanahashi’s face had turned hollow and strange. His cheekbones protruded and his blank eyes were soulless, just like Bushi and Sanada’s had been. He came for Kota again, hitting him in the side of the chest and dragging him back into the water by the hair so forcefully Kota was afraid he would tear it out of his head. No longer was he weak or in pain. A supernatural power behind his movements made them stronger and more precise than ever.

Kota kicked the him in the stomach as hard as he could. If Tanahashi felt any pain from the impact he didn’t show it. Kota waded out into deeper water, trying to get distance. He felt the current try and pull his legs from under him and he half hopped, half swam to the opposite shore.

He didn’t dare look back to see if Tanahashi was following.  Kota reached the bank and hobbled to the rocky cliff. He climbed it quickly, trying to avoid putting too much weight on his weak ankle. Loose rubble shifted behind him and he glanced back to see Tanahashi was back on his feet and climbing after him, white eyes glowing with fury, barely a yard behind.

“Ibushi!” Tanahashi roared. His voice was croaky and raw, it barely sounded like him at all.

A rock slipped under Kota’s hand and he slid down just far enough to feel Tanahashi’s hands grasping for his boots. He felt a sudden stabbing pain in his thigh and a spurt of warm blood gush down his leg.

He kicked backwards desperately, connecting with Tanahashi’s face and buying himself enough time to scramble over the top of the ledge.

Then he was back to hobbling forwards, the bones in his ankle grinding together worse and worse with every step, the pain flooding his brain until he couldn't think of anything except the torture of walking.

Tanahashi arms came from behind once more. Catching him and plunging him down into the clear cold water.

Kota felt the round stones of the riverbed press against his back.

Sharp fingertips gripped his collarbone, pushing him under the surface. He screamed and watched his last breath of air bubble up away from him through the clear water.

He dug his fingernails into Tanahashi's arm scratching great gashes into the flesh. All to no effect.

Kota's own strength began to leave his arms, flowing away with the water. He stopped trying to force himself upwards and felt the back of his head touch the riverbed. 

He couldn’t fight anymore.

His vision began to fade.

And then the hands were torn away.

Kota splashed to the surface and heaved in breaths. He wiped the water from his eyes in time to see a black shape whip through the air, barreling into Tanahashi and tossing him over the side of the waterfall into the churning current.

Kota shut his eyes.

Two hands settled on his shoulders.

He couldn't look. He couldn't bear to.

Kota was aware of being lifted and placed carefully on the riverbank.

Pain was shooting up from his ankle which felt like it must close to falling off. He couldn't keep back a sob at the intensity of it. He shouldn't have trusted Tanahashi, shouldn't have turned his back on him. It had been Hiromu all over again. Why did he have to be such an idiot? And now...

He didn’t want to look.

The fresh pain of his ankle was muted by a wave of dizziness as his body’s painkilling chemicals finally kicked in and numbed him. He was light-headed with it when he finally opened his eyes and snuck a glance at his rescuer. It only confirmed what he had already guessed. What he’d hoped.

But the others had appeared to be their usual selves at first, right before they attacked. People weren’t what they seemed here, and Kenny’s eyes were conveniently hidden behind his sunglasses.  

Kota crawled on three limbs to peer over the edge of the cliff where his rescuer was watching Tanahashi try to get back up. However, the rocks had been loosened by their first climb, and what had been possible before was a treacherous path now.

“Is he going to get back up?”  

“Not right away,” said Kenny, kicking a few more rocks down for good measure. “But yeah, he’ll find another route eventually.”

Kota pushed himself into a sitting position against a dead tree trunk, ignoring the fresh pain shooting up his leg. For a moment he thought Kenny might offer to help him, but the other man’s hand veered off at the last second and went to rest on his own sleeve instead.

Sunglasses and the black jacket. It was a perfect recreation of how he’d looked when...

“I’m not falling for this again,” Kota said firmly. “You aren’t really you, are you?”

“Hey, you’ll hurt my feelings like that! I’m me! Of course, I’m me! Who else is there for me to be?”

“You aren’t the same person I was with yesterday,” Kota countered.

“Which yesterday?” Now he was just being obtuse on purpose. “It doesn’t really matter anyway does it? I know what you want.” Kenny took off his jacket and wrung the water out into the river. “You want to know how to escape this place right? I know you.”

“Anyone would want to know how to get out of here,” Kota bit back, “and it does matter who you are. Tanahashi seemed normal at first. He talked to me. I thought I could trust him. That he was real." 

“Then he’s a tough old bastard, I’ll give him that.”

They both watched the bottom of the cliff in silence as the white-eyed Tanahashi monster lost his grip on the rocks and fell again.

Kota grabbed the bow of the tree, pulled himself up to standing, trying to hide the way his left leg shook under him.

“Take off your sunglasses.”

Kenny grinned but it was a grin that didn’t spread past his teeth. “Are you scared of me Ibushi-san? Do you think I’m going to try and hurt you?”

The cleaner stepped forward and Kota nearly slipped. He stuck out his good leg before the cleaner could get any closer and kicked him hard in the shin.

The cleaner tried to grab him, but Kota tumbled forward and they both fell off the bank and back into the shallow water. Kenny landed on his back. Kota ripped the wretched sunglasses off his face and dropped them into the current where they were whisked away downstream.

Kenny’s full blue eyes glared up at him.

“I would have explained! I’m 100% pure Kenny Omega. I’m just not 100% of Kenny Omega,” he spat out around mouthful of river water.

 Kota’s arms gave and he collapsed onto the other.

“If you aren’t what Tanahashi was. That’s enough for me,” he mumbled into Kenny’s shoulder.

“Is it? He and I are in very similar situations. Don’t think that you can just let your guard down Bu-san.”

Kota splashed him deliberately before pulling himself to his feet and staggering to the river’s edge. The person who might be just be Kenny after all, made no moves to retaliate. If he was a threat, Kota judged he was not an immediate one.

Kota sat back against the tree to examine his injuries. The cold water had numbed his ankle, but he knew it wouldn't support him far on dry ground. He could move it, but it hurt so badly it put him on the verge of throwing up. His left shoulder was aching from the plane crash, but the arm had full movement at least. Blood was trickling steadily from the cut on his palm and even more urgently, from his leg where he discovered it was Evil’s jade scissors that Tanahashi had stabbed deep into his thigh. They were buried up to the handle. His gear was drenched and bloody. His boots well and truly ruined. Not that it mattered, he had thrown this pair away four years ago.

The dawn was still stuck behind the peak of the mountains, giving out more light now than when Kota had started walking upriver. When he tried to think about how long he'd been wandering for, he found it was difficult. It couldn't have been longer than an hour, right?

Kenny’s voice cut into his wondering.

“...are you just going to sit there until you run out of blood? Hello?”

Kota watched in a daze as Kenny wandered out of view, muttering under his breath. He came back with three blankets, more wreckage from the aircraft, still dry in their sealed plastic bags. He set about tearing the soft blue fabric into strips.

He bandaged Kota’s hand first, his hands cold as ice after being dunked in the river, or maybe Kota was the one burning up.

With the black jacket off, drip drying on a tree branch, Kota could almost pretend this was his Kenny. Almost. The dark streaks in his hair the only thing that broke the illusion.

“So, if you aren’t 100% of Kenny Omega, where’s the rest of you?”

The cleaner was eyeing the scissors stuck into the side of Kota’s leg, but he left them where they were for now. He shrugged, uncharacteristically reticent. “A good question that I’m not at liberty to answer right now. What else is hurting? Besides the obvious.” Kenny gestured to the scissors.

“Everything.”

“That’s not helpful Bu-san. Why aren’t you walking properly? Is it your knee? Ankle? Both?”

“Ankle,” Kota admitted. “I wouldn’t be walking on it if I had a choice. It’s bad. Are there other versions of you wandering around?”

The cleaner grimaced.

“No. I can wrap it up, but it will still hurt.”

“Okay,” said Kota, wanting those cool, steady hands back on him more than anything.

Kenny tore more of the fabric into strips while Kota carefully removed his boot from around his bruised and swelling ankle, emptying water and stones onto the dry grey earth.

“Do you know how long we’ve been here?”

“Time isn’t really passing, but it wasn’t for the last week either.”

“How long has it felt for you then?”

“Before I found you? Too long Bu-san. It’s always too long.” There was a flash of real smile and for moment Kota thought Kenny might kiss him on the cheek, or smooth his hair out of his eyes, but the cleaner scooped Kota’s injured ankle up onto his lap instead, making him yelp. “So, what’s your plan?”

“My plan?”

“To defeat the ghost, to rescue everyone?”

“Well Hiromu said Evil is upriver,” Kenny nodded. “And then…um…” Kota had been relying on Evil to come up with the actual plan part.

“Evil is going to need the magical objects to cast the banishment spell, you do realize that, right? You stumbled onto these thanks to Tana.” Kenny pointed to the scissors currently sheathed in Kota’s thigh. “What about the anchor stone? Do you know where it is? How to find it?” Kota shrugged and then winced when Kenny tied the first strip of fabric tight around his foot. “No, you don’t. Okay. So, in short, you can barely walk, you have no plan and you’ve just been wandering aimlessly for the last god knows how long we’ve been here! Great! I’m so glad everyone is counting on you to get us out of here.”

“Counting on me?”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed but you are all of you,” Kenny said in an openly jealous tone as he wrapped the bandage in a coil around Kota’s ankle. “No one else is, no one I’ve met. They are just scraps of themselves, like me. It’s how the ghost is…he has part...I can’t...” He trailed off and frustration passed over his face at Kota’s confusion. “Evil explained it yesterday! I knew you weren’t listening!”

Kota fought a strong impulse to push his partner back into the river.

“I’m listening now,” he said quickly. “We need to find the stone then? That’s what you’re getting at?”

“Too little too late Bu-san,” the cleaner said cheerfully, tying the ends of the bandage in a final knot that was tight but not painfully so. Kota pulled his boots and knee pad back over it, fumbling with his one hand also wrapped. “I’m going to take the scythe out now, but it’s going to bleed. If you lie down this will be easier on both of us.” 

Kota obeyed. Glad not to have to watch it happen. He felt a twinge in his leg, and when he looked down the scissors were already out and safely wrapped up in a piece of blanket. Kenny used another wad of it to stem the flow of blood. The scissors, though sharp, were less than an inch long and the wound wasn’t deep.

“Hold this down,” Kenny instructed, putting Kota’s hand over the fabric and looping another strip around to secure it. His expression was so focused. Kota’s thoughts drifted as he watched him. This person was only part of the whole Kenny. Why did it have to be this part? The cleaner part? It made Kota think of things he’d rather not.

“Well it’s been fun! Great to catch up with you Ibu-tan. No need to thank me.”  

“What?”

Kenny was doing something else with the last length of fabric, Kota struggled to hold himself up on his elbows in time to see his legs being tied together at the knees. The cleaner wiped Kota’s blood off the jade scissors and held them up in triumph.

“I’ll be taking these. Good luck with your non-plan. I’m sure it will go great.”

“You…!” Kota couldn’t find the words.

The cleaner shrugged on his jacket, damp but no longer dripping, and slipped the blanket wrapped scissors into his pocket. “It’s not personal, I just have other obligations right now. We’ll see each other before long.”

Kota struggled to slip his legs out of their bindings, but Kenny had tied them with a double knot. Anger and hurt rushed through him.

“Don’t bother hurrying. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself. And you chasing after me isn’t how this partnership works anyway is it?”

“Wait!” Kota pleaded and for a moment the cleaner paused. His mouth thin.

“Good luck,” he said finally, “we really are all counting on you,” and with that he disappeared off into the forest.

...

It had to be a nightmare. Kota curled himself into a ball, closed his eyes tight and pressed his forehead into his knees. But when he lifted his head, the trees and the river and his ruined ankle were all still there. By the time Kota had extracted himself from the knotted strip of blanket, Kenny, or whatever part of him had been there, was long gone. 

He was both irritated and relieved to find that not-Kenny had done an excellent job wrapping his ankle and if he was careful, he could hobble on it without too much pain. But where to go? Every direction looked the same. The mud was so waterlogged it hadn't preserved Kenny's footprints. A familiar loneliness rose around him, flooding back to the places it belonged. Kota picked a path at random and set off between the gnarled trees.

This had to be a nightmare, but it felt too real for that. The bark on the trees was rough to the touch, Kota could smell the mud and rotten leaves around him, could hear the creaking of the gnarled branches above his head. But how could it be real? Everything about it was ridiculous, the ghosts, the spells, the time loops. Kota shook himself in a last-ditch attempt to wake himself up. He would just have to wait it out. When he woke up, would he tell Kenny about it? That he dreamed about him tying Kota up and abandoning him in this dark dead forest? That would be a cheery conversation. 

He kept walking vaguely uphill, hoping not to be led around in circles, examining marks that might possibly be footprints in the mud. They looked fresh but Kota couldn't see any other signs of another person. He compared the print with his own foot, it was too small.  

"Oy you! Hey!"

Kota started and nearly lost his balance. Up ahead, a flickering light was casting sharp shadows through a line of dark branches.

“Hello?” Kota called.

“Over here idiot!”

The voice was frantic.

Kota skidded further down through the thicket into a muddy hollow. A piece of plane wreckage, an engine or fuel tank of some kind, was burning merrily on the other side. Strapped tight into an airline seat a few yards away from the inferno was Taichi.

“Taichi!? Are you okay?”

“No! You absolute airhead! Don't just stand there! Help me!”

Kota’s helpful urges lessened considerably. Looking at the way the brittle trees were scattered, Taichi had a few more minutes before the fire spread further in his direction. Sweat already dripped from his forehead. Several strips of familiar blue fabric bound Taichi to the chair which was slowly sinking into the mud. 

"Untie me you shit! Come on! Hurry up and help me!”

"I'm having a nightmare," Kota calmly informed Taichi as he tested the mud with his bad foot. “You aren’t real.”

"You brainless dolt! Of course it’s real! Your fucking loser partner was the one who put me in here! Take some responsibility why don’t you and HELP ME!"

"If he trapped you here, why should I let you out? How do you know we aren't working together?"

Kota folded his arms and Taichi looked at him like he'd managed to hit a new level of stupidity hitherto undiscovered by humankind. 

"Because you're you and he's not him," Taichi explained slowly with the tone one might address an uncooperative photocopier, "Did you hit your head extra hard on the way here? This isn’t that hard to grasp! And here I thought you two were meant to be close!"

Kota ignored the barb and slogged through the mud to tug at Taichi's restraints. The cleaner had done a much more thorough job of tying Taichi into his seat than he had on Kota’s legs. Taichi wriggled and the whole chair sank another couple of inches into the mud.

"Explain what’s going on and I'll help you," Kota relented.

Taichi let out a long breath.

"This might be hard for you to understand but… I think that ghost might be thinking about screwing me over."

"You think?"

"Ever since it got its clutches on Jay White! The bastard is going to try and usurp me and go back on our deal I’m sure of it!"

Kota stared at him. Taichi's face was quite serious. 

"Usurp you? Taichi at what point were you ever in control of this situation!?"

“None of this would have happened without me!" Taichi seethed.

"Yeah. And that really makes me want to help you."

Kota felt the heat of the flames creeping closer. The knots holding Taichi were too tight to pick apart, he looked around for something sharp. “Where is the ghost right now?”

"At the top of the river, he’s got your man, and Tanahashi too, I think. Some stupid magic shit as usual."

"Tanahashi's downriver," Kota corrected, “I ran into him not long ago.” 

"Maybe bits of him."

Kota picked up a thin rock and ran his finger over the sharp edge. It would do with enough force behind it. He began sawing against the fabric strapping Taichi’s torso to the chair.

"Careful! What are you doing with that!?"

"Helping. What about Kenny, what happened to him? How can I… How do I get him back to normal?"

"Honestly you’re better off forgetting about him. He’s not that important in the grand scheme of things.” The sharp point of the rock poked into Taichi’s stomach. “Ow! You’re going to stab me doing it like that!”

"You were saying?"

"I meant there isn't anything you can do for him right now," Taichi hastened to clarify as Kota readjusted his grip on the rock. "The ghost has him under a spell."  

Kota finally cut through the fabric and Taichi flung himself out of the chair. He staggered forward two steps, boots squelching in the mud and threw up in a bush.

“God. I feel awful.”

“Yes.”

“So, what’s your plan for getting out of here?” Taichi drawled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“My plan? This is your fault!” Kota snapped gesturing at the plane wreckage and the dead forest that surrounded them. “We’d be done with the tour and home again by now if it wasn’t for you! You got us into this mess!”

“Well I didn’t know, did I?” Taichi had the decency to look embarrassed, if not to actually apologize.

“What about Evil? Have you seen him?”

“He’s up there too but he can’t help us. The ghost has him imprisoned. All of him. It’s not taking any chances. If Evil was freed, then maybe…” Taichi tailed off, rubbing his arms where they’d been tied tight and watching Kota with a cagey expression.

“What is the ghost even trying to do?”

“You don’t know? You really don’t win any awards for critical thinking do you?” Kota glared and Taichi sighed. “Things break down in time. Like your hand.” He pointed to where the blood from the cut on Kota's palm was already starting to seep through the cleaner’s wrappings. “It starts bleeding even in loops when nothing cuts it now, right? And it happens quicker each time?”

Kota nodded.

“The ghost is doing the same thing to the intercontinental title. Once something has happened in one loop, it takes power to make it not happen that way again, and after enough loops, things start breaking on their own, even if the event that originally broke them doesn’t occur.” 

Taichi swept his hair to the side. Like everyone else Kota had met here, Taichi had apparently appeared in this place in full ring gear. His flashy embroidered coat was covered in patches of dried mud, and he scraped at them as he spoke with an expression of disgust.

“The spell that created the loop - and it was Evil’s spell not mine so lay off! - used the intercontinental belt as its power source. So, if the power source of the spell is destroyed then poof! The spell will be broken.” 

“Then what will happen?”

“Well about that…”

Taichi wouldn’t meet Kota’s eyes. His index finger scraping against a particularly stubborn mud stain.

“You don’t know,” Kota realized. “You don’t know what will happen.”

Taichi pursed his lips.

“What will happen is we’ll break out of here. I’ll use the ghost’s power to help me win the G1 and then I’ll finally receive the respect I deserve from pitiful chumps like you!”

“If you really believe that, why are you telling me all this?”

For a moment Taichi didn’t answer. He looked down at the state of himself, splattered all over with the dark, oily mud. Then he looked back up the mountain, as if afraid he would see the ghost zooming over the landscape towards them. The fight had gone out of him.  

 “I… I’ve got something I should probably give you.”

Taichi launched off into the woods without waiting. Kota might have had trouble keeping up with him, but he didn't go far. After checking all directions like a paranoid squirrel about to dig up a prize nut, he reached under a large shrub and pulled out the anchor stone.

Its black sheen was only just recognizable under a thick layer of mud. Taichi wiped it off as best he could on a tree trunk and stashed it under his coat. 

“That stone! We have to get it to Evil.” 

A branch creaked. There was a black shape in the canopy above them. Kota should have known this was too straightforward. He had a fraction of a second to react and he used it to push Taichi forward.

“Run!”

So of course, Taichi just stood there, rubbing his arm and already opening his mouth to complain about being shoved.

A horribly familiar voice floated down from the tree.

“Wow! You found the stone for me too? You shouldn’t have! That ghost was right not to trust you huh Taichi? You sold it out to the first sucker you came across. That eager to give up huh?”

Kota gritted his teeth.

“That was too easy!” the cleaner mocked, “we really make such a great team Ibu-tan, even when you aren’t trying! You can’t help it!”

Kenny landed on the ground and immediately lunged for Taichi. Kota moved in between to block. 

“You aren’t real,” Kota said. The cleaner’s mouth twitched.

Kenny feinted to the right and then ducked left trying to get past. Kota grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tackled him to the ground.

“Stop Ibu-tan! Get off! I don’t want to fight you!” Kenny shoved him off and made for Taichi and the stone again. This time Kota was flat on his back in the mud and could do nothing to stop him.

Taichi dodged back but not quickly enough to evade Kenny’s unnaturally strong and brutal movements. He plucked the stone from Taichi’s hands easily.

“I thought this would be more difficult,” he drawled. “I expected more from you Ibushi. Much more from you.”

Kota kicked him hard in the gut and the stone spun out of his hands.

“Get it away from here!” Kota yelled at Taichi.

Taichi looked at Kota and then at Kenny.

Face pale with terror, Taichi scrambled off between the trees, abandoning the stone to sink down into the mud. Kenny immediately went to pick it up, but Kota was in his way.

He weaved to the side and Kota matched him step for step.

“You want to hear something really stupid?” Kenny’s laugh rattled around the forest. “I used to be so afraid of fighting you. I knew I wasn’t good enough. I’ll admit that, you can have that.” Kenny wasn’t looking at Kota, his sights fixed on the stone behind him. “Now? I don’t think that’s the reason anymore. Do you?”

He made another attempt to duck past and Kota grabbed him by the arm, Kenny twisted them until he had Kota wincing.

“I’m stronger than you now, I’m more interesting than you, I’m more successful than you! Can you believe that!? Crazy right? Who’d have thought?”

Kota got his wrist free and threw a low kick. Kenny evaded it and targeted Kota’s good shoulder.

“I bet that was a bitter pill to swallow. I knew you’d try and come crawling back to me. I hoped you would! Of course you would now I’ve got you beat.” He twisted Kota’s elbow up into a painful knot. Their arms interlocked. “You couldn’t stand it.”

Kota felt his feet start to slip on the mud.

“But you kept ignoring me for so long! First, I was too far below you, but then when I finally surpassed you, you still didn’t come back!  You sure know how to keep a guy guessing Bu-san!”

A well-timed push and Kota landed in the mud again. Kenny retrieved the anchor stone and tossed it around in his hands.

“I was so confused! But being like this again helped me work it all out. You wanted to come back to me, but you were too afraid. So you had to wait until I was alone, didn’t you? Until I had to take you back. I didn’t have any other choice, did I? Coward.”

Kenny didn’t attack now he had the stone, just watched as Kota dragged himself back to his feet.

“I really don’t want to fight you though; I promise that’s the truth. You trust me, right?”

Kota tackled him, slamming him into a tree trunk and darting back again before Kenny could grab him, wincing as his foot caught on a tree root.

“Wow that almost hurt! By the way how is that ankle Ibu-tan?” Kenny sang, “Get out of my way and maybe I won’t snap it like a twig.”

He lunged at Kota but only hit the air. Kota used the momentum to send Kenny sprawling into a pile of rubble. The anchor stone went soaring off into another puddle.

“Stop talking,” Kota panted.

“Ha!” Kenny threw a handful of gravel and dirt at him. “You really should have listened to Evil, stupid. Then you wouldn’t be wasting your time on me.”

“I’m not stupid.”

Kota closed the distance and took more dirt to the face. The cleaner launched himself off the rubble and slammed Kota backwards into a tree trunk. Only now was he starting to look even slightly out of breath.

“You’re right,” the cleaner admitted, “I was just being a dick. You aren’t stupid. You aren’t a coward. You just don't care. You couldn’t give a flying fuck about anyone.”

Kenny pressed his weight up against Kota, crushing him against the tree. Kota had to find a way to knock him back, had get the stone, had get out of this awful place, away from the things that Kenny was saying.  

“You don’t care about me. You never really cared about me.” Kota could feel his hot breath against the side of his neck as he spoke. Kenny was holding on so hard his fingernails were digging into to Kota’s biceps and something hard in his jacket pocket was pressing uncomfortably into Kota’s ribs.

“I couldn’t keep up, so you left me behind. That I’d understand except that you threw me away for your career and then you didn’t even try. That’s how little I meant to you.”

“Don’t!” Kota scratched and clawed at any patch of exposed skin he could reach. “How can you say that!?” The cleaner took a step back and let Kota stumble forward, his expression dark. “I didn’t throw you away!” Kota edged around Kenny, trying to avoid being closed in against the cliff face while remembering to keep himself between Kenny and the stone. “It wasn’t about you.”

“Of course not, why would it ever be?”

“Stop twisting what I say!” Kota said in exasperation, “This isn’t the time!”

“I’m not twisting anything. You aren’t that hard to understand Bu-san, what you do speaks for you. I wasn’t important enough to you, and you didn’t want me. That’s what it comes down to. That’s the truth of it. Isn’t it?”

He came for Kota again and slammed him down into the dirt, crushing Kota’s arm between their bodies. Kota struggled, and felt the object in Kenny’s jacket against his wrist. He slid his hand into the pocket.

“Admit it.”

Kota closed his fingers around a blanket-wrapped parcel.

“Admit you didn’t want me!” Kenny’s eyes were wild, pupils and irises disappearing and re-appearing with every blink.

“No,” said Kota. He rolled them, putting his weight over Kenny’s prone body. Kenny’s eyes were completely empty now, he curled a leg around Kota’s ankle and twisted, the pain whiting out Kota’s vision.

There was only one choice left. Kota pulled the scissors out of Kenny’s pocket and stabbed them into the side of his stomach. Kenny hissed in pain as like the scissors were iron hot. He tried to wriggle away from Kota, but Kota moved with him, keeping the scissors pressed deep into ice cold flesh until the cleaner’s arms dropped limply to his sides. He pulled them out and strange, oily blood ebbed from the small gash on Kenny’s side.

The wound didn’t look that bad, but the scissors were made of the same shining green gemstone that had turned Sanada and Bushi to dust. The contact with them seemed to have sapped away all Kenny’s unnatural ghost given energy. He slumped against the ground groaning in agony while Kota stood up and staggered back. He felt exhausted, hollowed out. His face was wet with more than mud, and he wiped the evidence off with his forearm.

“I always wanted you,” Kota told him. “I’ll always want you. So just… just... shut up okay?”

Kenny’s pupils were back but he didn’t spare the breath to answer. His chest heaving up and down, eyes fighting to stay open. Fixed on Kota.

Kota rescued the stone from where it had been left sinking into the mud. It was slightly smaller than a brick, its surface round and smooth.

Before Kota could examine it further, there was the sound of scrambling behind him.

He whipped round, ready to fend off another attack but the cleaner was running away. Kota grabbed the back of his jacket.

“Wait!”

Kenny straightened his arms and slipped out of it, making Kota stumble back onto his ankle, and collapse to the ground letting out a shout of frustration. By the time he was on his feet again, Kenny was gone, leaving only a trail of dark blood behind him.

Kota didn’t have the energy to chase him. What good would it do? He wanted to stop, to get his bearings and think but resting for too long would also be a mistake. He had to keep himself moving.

Wandering further along the trail of blood Kenny had left behind led him to the base of cliff. With the stone in one hand, scissors in the other and one leg barely usable the climb would be impossible. He bemoaned his lack of pockets and then had an idea.

Tracking back the way he'd come, he picked up the cleaner's abandoned leather jacket and slipped it on, trying not to think too hard about the decision. It was a purely practical one. He put the scissors into the right pocket and the stone into the left. The top half of the latter poked out, but it left Kota’s hands free to climb.

The sky was light grey now, Kota climbed the face of the cliff carefully, testing each handhold before trusting it with his weight. Halfway up, he looked back and saw the way he’d come illuminated. The shell of the airport extended to the sky in some places but was totally absent in others. The ancient woods littered the land all the way down to the ocean’s edge, the river cutting its winding valley through the grey landscape. Kota put one shaking hand in front of the other, one trembling foot forward at a time and thought carefully about nothing.

…

Taichi’s day was getting worse every minute, and frankly it had been dire to start with.

Wading through the freezing lake he waved to get Miho’s attention. When she noticed him, she almost smiled, until the grim weight of their situation settled back on her shoulders. The ghost paused in its relentless attack on the intercontinental belt to spare Taichi a look of pure disgust.

“Are you okay babe?” Miho called.

“Did you find the anchor stone?” the ghost demanded.

“No and Yes. But I don’t know why you even sent me after it if you were going to send them as well.”

Taichi indicated the giant icicles at the center of the lake, each one pointing straight up like a trio of great glass teeth.

“You were taking too long,” said the ghost.

“I would have gotten it done quicker if you hadn’t sent them! They did nothing but get in my way!”

There was a hairline crack on the leftmost icicle. As Taichi spoke there was a loud popping sound and the crack grew little wider.

The ghost spun around and spoke a spell. He held his arm out and a new patch of ice grew over the crack. Miho stepped closer to Taichi, slipping her hand into his.

“So uh… when you break the belt… what will happen exactly?” Taichi asked.

“Who have you been talking to?” the ghost snapped, “I told you already, we’ll be freed, I’ll help you win the F1 and you’ll have all the success your petty little mind can conceive of.”

“It’s the G1.”

“Whatever,” said the ghost. “Where is the stone? I will break it along with the belt and then there will be nothing anyone can do to stop me.” Miho’s hand tightened on Taichi’s.

“I buried it in the forest. I thought you wanted to keep it far away?”

Before the ghost could tell Taichi to go back off and fetch it, someone else emerged over the edge of the cliff and limped into the shallow lake. He was clutching at his side and he’d lost his stupid black jacket out somewhere in the wilderness.

“You’re back? Where’s the other one?”   

The Omega of a few years ago grimaced and shrugged. “We had a disagreement, the further downstream we got, the more he started saying we needed to go against you. I did what I could.”

The ghost frowned and beat the belt against the rock in its displeasure, it was battered and dented but still intact for now. When it came, the next break would be the last.  

Omega looked over at Taichi, as if daring him to speak up and report what had really happened. Taichi could do it, could tell the ghost that Omega had tied him up, had taken out Tanahashi who he was meant to be working with, and had by now probably given the two objects necessary for the banishment spell to one of the last people able to use them. Omega wouldn’t be able to defend himself, not this close to the ice that held the other half of his soul. Taichi was surprised he was strong enough to lie to the ghost at all and credited it to Omega having a naturally duplicitous nature.  

“What about the scythe? Did either of you manage to get your hands on it?”

Omega shook his head. Lips closed tight.

“I couldn’t find it,” Taichi said.

But the ghost had noticed Omega’s face, the muscles of it creased with the effort it took to resist the ghost’s spell of compliance. 

“You know where it is.” It was a hopeless lie anyway. The gash on the side of Omega’s stomach was bleeding into the lake. As far as Taichi was aware there was only one weapon that could have made it. Normal rules of nature, the laws of life and death didn’t apply in the darkness world. Especially not to a servant tied to the ice. It would have taken the scissors to make that wound. “Tell me.”

Omega tried to shake his head again but screamed instead, the thrall of the ghost too strong and painful to resist.

“Useless.”

The ghost slapped him sideways. Omega flew until his body thumped against the black rock and he slumped down unmoving.

Taichi looked at Miho. Miho looked at Taichi. Her hand was crushing his fingers. He had been so terrified of disappointing her. She deserved someone better, someone successful. It all seemed so unimportant right now.

“I’m sorry,” Taichi whispered, “This hasn’t worked out the way I thought it would.”

Miho let out a bitter laugh, “Really? You don’t say.”

There was another loud crack from the leftmost ice block, but this time the ghost was too consumed with anger to hear it. It was pelting the belt face against the stone again and again, swinging it with more and more fury every time.

Taichi took a deep breath.

“Miho, we’ve established my decisions are fucking awful. Whatever you think we should do, I’ll do it.”

Miho stared up at him, her beautiful brown eyes tired, miserable and full of love.

...

A storm was crackling in the air.

There were noises up ahead. The sound of metal striking stone.

Clang. Clang.

The river broadened the higher Kota climbed until he reached the edge of a vast shallow lake. The water spilled over the rim, smooth and clear like a sink overflowing, before plummeting down into the river. The lake surface was flat as a mirror and stretched for about half a mile until it met another stretch of black dead forest. Sandbanks rose above the waterline and in the center of the lake on the largest of these was a rocky island hosting strange assortment of figures.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Jay White was easily identifiable, after all he was the only one flying. He had his back to Kota, hitting the intercontinental belt against a mound of sharp black rocks.

Clang. Clang.

It wasn’t a storm in the air after all but a spell. Kota knew the difference now. Every impact the belt suffered shook the earth like thunder.

Taichi and Miho were shivering near three huge icicles. Kota could see the dark outlines of people locked inside them, suspended like insects in amber. The ice was so thick that the details were blurred. Kota couldn’t make out their faces, but the one in the leftmost block was wearing a hooded robe.

Kota crept up, taking cover where he could behind the treeline.

How useful Taichi might be was debatable, but after their earlier conversation Kota was at least hopeful he and Miho wouldn’t immediately alert the ghost to his presence. Kota stole closer to them, trying silently to get their attention.

Clang. Clang.

Kota was only a few yards away when Miho finally looked his way and nudged Taichi’s arm. They both looked terrified.

“Ibushi!” Miho whispered. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get us out. Will you help me?”

“Of course!” said Miho.

“If we must I suppose,” said Taichi.

“Is that Evil inside one of those blocks of ice?”

Miho nodded grimly.

“We need to break him out, if- “

Suddenly they were both springing back, wide eyed with alarm like Kota was about to attack them.

The clanging had stopped.

“It’s a good job you’re so slow witted, or I might have been worried when you evaded my blade before.” A knife scraping against stone. Kota whirled around.

The knife held loosely in Jay’s hand unfurled into a sword. The ghost swung it down and Kota hopped sideways.

"You will not escape again. No matter how many lucky shots you get. A kiss is a magical thing.”  The ghost nodded over to Miho and Taichi. “Not enough to bring the dead back to life of course. That’s fairy tale stuff, but a kiss is life giving, in its way."

Kota wasted no time bowling the anchor stone at the ghost’s feet. It didn’t connect but rolled wide, bumping into the intercontinental title where it lay abandoned on the sand.

The ghost eyed the stone disdainfully, "Without the spell a rock is just a rock," it said, though it made sure to hang back at safe distance.

Kota moved to pick it up the belt, hoping to get it out of harm’s way, but the ghost pushed more power into the sword until it stretched to seven feet long, able to slash and stab at Kota without compromising the ghost's distance from the stone. Kota wobbled to avoid it, wincing when his full weight fell on his weak ankle.

“You’re already falling apart,” commented the ghost, “Unsurprising. This place sucks at your life force over time. It is where I have languished for the last twelve years. Before your wizard’s spell brought me into the living world.” 

Kota dodged another clumsy swing.

“By now you must have noticed we aren’t in the airport any longer. During our encounter on the plane I had a revelation; Why bother struggling to keep myself in life, fighting you with the small power that I could muster there, when I could just as easily pull you all into the darkness world instead?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kota spotted Taichi and Miho shuffling closer to the pillars of ice. He would have to keep the ghost’s attention on himself and trust that they were on the side of staying alive.

Kota stayed close to where the stone had fallen, feet either side of it.

A fluke swipe caught the meat of Kota’s shoulder. The end of the thin blade stuck there, pressing down into muscle. Kota fumbled the scissors out of his pocket and when the blunt edge of the scissors touched the blade, they cut through it like warm butter.

The ghost wailed over its broken weapon.

Kota gave the anchor stone a soft kick and felt it roll forwards.

The wailing turned to screams.  Smokey tendrils began to appear at the ghost’s mouth and nose, pulled towards the anchor stone. It tried to charge towards Kota but was jerked back by the pull of the stone like a dog on a leash. 

“Miho!” it yelled, “Taichi! I need you!”

But they had vanished. They hadn’t even broken Evil out before fleeing. Kota berated himself for trusting them to help and it appeared the ghost was doing the same thing.

The charge around it crackled, making Jay’s hair stand on end. Smoke and static whipped around it in furious little spirals.

“Taichi thought he would use my power for his own petty successes! Maybe he if he’d learnt a little more magic, he would have gotten his wish,” the ghost spat, face contorted with rage. “To walk in the living world again is all I want, but if you are so determined that I should remain trapped in this place, it’s only fair that you keep me company.”

Now healing wasn’t an option, the ghost drifted as far out of reach as the stone allowed. Its smoky tendrils still anchored. It hung in the air boiling with rage, darting to the ground to grab up the intercontinental title before swooping back up again, away from Kota and his scissors. 

Kota clutched them tight, his left shoulder bleeding freely.

“Have something to keep you busy while I finish the breaking.”

The ghost raised an arm in the direction of the icicles and a pillar of liquid rose from the lake. It shimmered and spiraled, hanging over the water until a dark shape formed inside it and the cleaner stepped out.

What remained of the ghost’s sword melted into liquid and reformed into a hammer. The ghost floated down behind the cleaner and placed the belt on a rock.

“Don’t let him touch me,” the ghost ordered. It raised the hammer and brought it down on the belt.

Clang.

Even without his jacket and glasses there was no confusing this silent version of the cleaner for the real Kenny. His eyes were pure white.

He leaped at Kota, his fists like iron pendulums swinging for Kota’s face.

Clang.

The punch hit Kota’s jaw; he was pushed back, away from the ghost.

Kota launched forth again and caught a knee to the face. Kenny lifted him up and dumped him back in the lake.

Clang.

Kota still had the scissors. He jabbed forward experimentally, catching Kenny in the bicep and made another run for it.

He didn’t get far before Kenny grabbed him out of the air and shoved him sprawling back into the sand.

Clang.

Perhaps judging that this was far enough away the ghost’s orders could be considered to be being obeyed, the cleaner ceased all movement. His blue eyes were back, and he watched but did not attack as Kota struggled to stand. He shook his head.

“Stop getting distracted. You won’t win this way. Trust me.”

“Trust you? How can I possibly trust you?” said Kota, and for second Kenny stared despairingly at Kota before his eyes flickered white once more.

Clang.

The ground was vibrating with every hit. The belt wouldn’t survive much more.

Kota ran forward again kicking with his damaged ankle. It was a stupid, desperate move. Kenny caught the ankle and twisted it brutally before shoving Kota and letting him fall back into the water. If the ankle hadn’t been broken before, it certainly was now.

Kota’s whole arm was covered in the blood dripping down from his shoulder. The light blue strips of makeshift bandage around his hand had turned red. The bandages.

“Why did you help me before if you were being controlled!? You bandaged my leg! Try and think! Wake up!” Kota demanded.

Kenny’s irises blinked back, he looked as dazed and confused as Kota felt.

“You were fighting it before! Please fight it now!”

The scissors were hot in Kota’s hand.

He lurched forward on one leg in a last-ditch effort to take Kenny down. He thrust the scissors forward but at the last second, he hesitated, rotating them to press the handles against Kenny’s skin instead of the point. Kenny chopped his hand with disgusting force. There was a splash as the scissors spun through the air and into the water.

Kota’s first feeling was a guilty relief that he hadn’t been given the chance to push the scissors in a second time. That relief was overtaken by pure despair as he collapsed onto the sand, onto Kenny. Kota's blood was leaking out into the lake. He felt Kenny lying there under him, the brief contact with the scissors enough to sap him of his strength. 

Clang.

Kota balanced on his elbows, lifting his broken body to look at Kenny. His eyes were blue again, face pale as ice apart from the blood smeared over it.

“I’m sorry,” Kota whispered.

Clang.

“If you can get there. It’s not over. You heard... I have to stop you from touching the ghost. Nothing else.”

Kenny pointed, hand shaking to the three icicles. During the fight Kota and Kenny had moved around to the side of the lake and could see the central island from an angle the ghost could not. Something was poking out of the side of the leftmost icicle.

“Please trust me,” Kenny whispered again.

Kota had never been able do anything else. Something inside him was probably broken. He scrambled off Kenny and towards the icicle. His arms ached. His injured ankle would take no weight at all. He crawled forwards, dragging it along across the sand until he reached the island.

The thing sticking out of the ice was a hand, the black embroidered sleeve marking it as Evil's. Taichi and Miho had made some progress before they'd fled after all.

Evil's fist was stiff and cold but as soon as Kota touched it the fingers sprang open. The fingers flicked and a slip of paper dropped from the sleeve.

Kota didn't understand the words written on it, but he read them out anyway as best he could. Bizarre sentences stuttering out of his dry mouth. At the end of the first line the ghost began to feel the spell changing and screamed with rage. At the end of the second the threads of its soul were ripped from the body of Jay White and locked into the anchor. The smoky matter that made them up solidifying into a grey mud. The abandoned vessel crumpled to the floor with a soft sob.

Kota's felt himself getting more and more lightheaded with every word he read. The writing was swimming in front of his eyes, he looked away from the page and saw the blood from his shoulder dripping down his body and swirling out into the clear water. He tried to focus on the words again, making it through one more sentence before he had to close his eyes from relief from his spinning vision.

There was a splash behind him. Kota tensed for an attack.

A warm hand rested on his good shoulder. Soft lips kissed the back of his neck.

"You can do it."

The dizziness faded, Kota looked back at the paper and kept reading. The ghost wailed with rage.

"The scythe!" Kota went to take the scissors out of his pocket and remembered in panic that Kenny had slapped them into the lake. “I don’t-”

Jay lurched up, scissors in hand and threw himself at the ghost, stabbing deep, fast little cuts into the muddy gelatinous creature.

The ghost began to shrink, becoming denser until it was the consistency of clay, denser again until it turned to ash and began to flake away.

As the ghost’s power dissipated, the ice around Evil exploded with an awesome crack. He shook himself to dislodge the little shards that clung to his hair and shoulders. He lent his voice to Kota’s and the spell strengthened until the ghost vanished entirely.

Jay white flopped to the ground, mumbling a string of expletives.

The other two icicles were melting rapidly. Though there had been figures inside them, these faded and melted into the water in a glittering stream. Kota watched Tanahashi's light flow off down the river to re-join its other half while the rest raced to meet Kenny and engulf him, draining into him until he was solidified somehow. When he opened his eyes, Kota knew he was whole again.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t-! I didn’t mean the things I-” Kota put his arms around him and hugged him close. “I’m really sorry,” Kenny mumbled.

“It wasn’t you,” said Kota, stroking his hand down Kenny’s back.

“Yes, it was. It was part of me.” Kenny pulled back; expression tortured. Kota wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, to argue that now was a bad time. Couldn’t they just be thankful for escaping the darkness world for one moment before engaging in pointless self-flagellation? He wanted to explain that he loved Kenny no matter what he’d done. Things were different now.  

“I…”

Around them the darkness was melting, the dull sky vanished and the whole cold, wet world around them dripped away into white floors and clean glass walls with blue sky beyond. The sound of the rushing river faded away and the chatter of voices took its place.

The airport was bright and warm, and Kota had never been happier to be in it.

Kenny’s arm was still looped around his waist. When it began to slip off Kota put his own hand over Kenny’s to hold it there. All pain left him. The bones in his ankle clicked back into place, the cut on his palm knitted itself away.  

People materialized along with the airport, filling the space around them like air rushing back into a vacuum. They had their heads bent over their phones, checking their boarding passes, staring dully the departure board, as if nothing unusual had occurred at all.

Those who had been at the lake remained in the same positions they had been in the darkness world. Evil stood upright, so stiff he might have still been frozen. Jay drew strange looks as he panted on the marble floor, closing his eyes and groaning.

Evil didn’t say a word to Kota. Instead he strode off towards where Naito, Sanada, Bushi and Hiromu lolled on a bank of sofas. Kota knew better than to keep him from them.

Jay White made no movement to get up. He sat on the floor, examining his own hands. Kota approached him and Kenny followed, keeping close beside him.

Jay glared up at them, eyes red, face bloodless and wet with sweat or tears.

"I won't apologize for getting you involved," Jay snapped before Kota could say anything. "It was the right decision."

Kota didn’t argue.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"What do you think!?" 

"Calm down, jeez he's trying to be nice!" interjected Kenny.

"If either of you honestly think, there is the slightest chance that I am okay on any level after all of that then you're more brainless than I thought!" Jay’s cheeks puffed as he let out a long breath. The anger was an improvement over the blankness, Kota thought, it made him look alive.

"Is there anything we ca-"

"NO! I want nothing from you! I need nothing from you! If I see either one of you talentless, incompetent fucks again it will be too soon. So, piss off!"

"Talentless!?"

"Well thanks for helping with the scythe anyway," Kota blurted out.

"That was for me, not you," Jay bit back, and then he was lost, staring at his own fingers again.

Kenny gently tugged at Kota. 

“If he doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t want to talk,” Kenny said.

In Kota's experience, you couldn't always count on people to ask for what they needed. However, he agreed that their presence was doing nothing but upsetting Jay more, and perhaps, after everything the ghost had done, he deserved to be left in peace for a while.

Kota even didn't remember putting his passport and boarding pass into the side pocket of his case. It felt like it had been years since that had been important. As the clear robotic voice played over the announcement system and invited them to begin boarding, Kota still found it hard to believe this clean bright world was actually real. It was hard to trust that they weren't about to be snapped back in time again. He didn't think he was alone in this feeling. Kenny was being uncharacteristically quiet. Kota slid his hand over his partner's wrist. Stroking until Kenny let go of his waist and took his hand instead.

“Thank you,” said a familiar rumbling voice.

Evil had appeared behind them. The rest of LIJ stood off at a short distance, all of them appeared to be in perfect health. Naito was staring daggers at Tanahashi on the opposite side of the room who was returning them with enthusiasm. Bushi chatted with Sanada, who nodded silently at regular intervals. Hiromu’s sketchbook had been secured under the weight of Evil’s suitcase to discourage prying eyes, but the man himself was not with the group.

“Hiromu is fine,” Evil assured them when he saw where Kota was looking. “With the spell I was able to encourage the most favorable outcomes for those who weren’t woken to the temporal seal.”   

Kota nodded, pretending he understood. He turned away from Evil to see Tanahashi giving him a strange look. Did he remember getting thrown off the waterfall? Maybe it was associating with Evil that was the reason for his concern? Then Kota remembered that he and Kenny were still holding hands.

“He doesn’t remember,” Evil confirmed. “Only those who were awakened to the temporal seal will remember the darkness world, and Tanahashi was not kissed. Ah! thank you Hiromu.”

“Always happy to help!!” Hiromu skipped up, hands full with the intercontinental title and Taichi who was being dragged over with considerable force. Miho, refusing to let Taichi be taken from her, clung onto his other arm.

“These two have something to say to you," Evil informed them.  

“T-thank you Ibushi.” Taichi said through gritted teeth looking at the floor “...we’re sorry for the trouble."

Miho flashed Kota a grateful expression. Between the two of them, it added up to one sincere apology. Kenny was crowing with satisfaction which probably didn’t make it easier.

“It’s fine. It's over now," Kota told them.

“Sorry I tied you up and left you to drown in quicksand,” said Kenny, matching the tone of Taichi’s apology for sincerity.

Taichi didn’t dignify it with a response. Hiromu released his arm and he and Miho strode away off into the jet tunnel without looking back.

…

When the plane was over the ocean, Kota finally let himself start to relax. Evil had assured them it really was over, vowing that he wouldn’t use magic this way again. Kota didn’t believe him for a second, but he hoped Evil would make every effort to keep he and Kenny out of it in future. They had enough of their own problems to deal with. Though the solving of this one had left Kota feeling lighter than before.

Tanahashi had stopped him at the top of the jet bridge. Kenny, at Kota’s request, and Kushida, at Tanahashi’s request, waiting a short distance away as they talked.

“How’s the journey treating you?” Tanahashi had asked.

“It’s fine.”

“I wouldn’t dream to try and tell you what’s best…” Tanahashi hesitated. A rare occurrence. Kota looked at him and could find no anger, no scorn in his face. He just looked worried. “But I want you to know that there are better places for you. You’re so special Ibushi. You have so much potential.”

“I know,” Kota said, “but this is where I want to be right now.”  

He had re-joined Kenny to find him engrossed in a lively conversation with Kushida that appeared to be about the finer points of the game, 'Turtles in Time'. As Kushida reluctantly waved them goodbye, Kota thought, not for the first time, that the strict factional divides in New Japan had a lot to answer for.

The silence between he and Kenny, broken only by practical conversation over how best to fit their bags into the overhead lockers, persisted until they were in the air. Kota wondered if it would be presuming too much to take Kenny’s hand again, wanting to feel connected, to feel the warmth of Kenny's skin.

“We should talk, I know you don’t want to hear apologies…”

“You were being mind-controlled by a ghost,” said Kota flatly.

Kenny fiddled with his armrest, sucking in breath to bolster what he was about to say.

Kota considered putting the conversation off again. He could say one of a thousand things to shut Kenny up, or nudge him onto a different track. But Kota was coming to the realization that it wasn’t going to be any easier to do this when they were alone, or back home, or even in bed when they inevitably found themselves there together again. It would be no easier tomorrow, or next month than it had been last year. The conversation that Kenny had been trying to start, ever more desperately, might as well be had now, in this strange in-between place; in this time that still didn’t really feel real.

“I’m not good at telling you things,” Kota blurted out. “Of course I want you. I always did. I just...” Kenny’s mouth twisted, and Kota hated the terrible blankness that started to spread over it. “I should have said it.”

Kenny didn’t reply immediately and it felt like being left to drown. “Help,” Kota said weakly, when he couldn’t bear the wait any longer.

“Okay, but you have to listen to me apologize.”

Kota swallowed and nodded.

The cabin lights dimmed, and the flight attendants moved through the aircraft requesting that the shades be closed. Kenny obliged and then turned to Kota again, his face now in shadow. This time he was the one squished in his seat between Kota and the wall of the cabin. It was only fair to take turns.

Kota shifted, stretching his legs out into the aisle to give them more room. It was less uncomfortable than usual. There was something to be said for the small sizing of airline seats and the physical contact they forced. His thigh couldn’t help but rest against Kenny’s, their bodies snug.

“It isn’t really about today. I need to apologize for what I did before.”

Before January. That felt like another lifetime. Even less real than the dimension they’d just escaped. Kota didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to think about it. But it was like a splinter buried under skin, and the only way to get it out was by digging for it.

"I wanted to hurt you," Kenny said, "Last year and before that... I wanted to make you upset. In my head I twisted it all, so that every little thing you did was some kind of slight against me, because that was better than you just totally ignoring me.”

“I think I knew that,” Kota admitted. “You were just doing what you needed to do to protect yourself.” Kota took a breath. “But even knowing the reason why… it was… painful.”

“Bu-san!” Kenny exclaimed mournfully.

The person sitting behind Kota kicked the back of his chair and muttered for them to keep it down.

“Bu-san!!!” Kenny repeated in a theatrical whisper.

Kota elbowed him in the stomach.

“I’m sorry I hurt you!” Kenny continued, all seriousness again. “You were just doing what you needed to too! I knew that, but I let myself pretend. I’m sorry that I did, it just made everything more difficult in the end.”

Kenny pressed his forehead into Kota’s shoulder, hiding his face. Kota let out a long breath and put an arm around him.  

The sky around the plane turned orange as they flew further into the evening. They were over India now and had been for a while. Kota was thankful for every mile put between them and Bangkok, finally feeling the last of the tension he’d been holding onto slip away.

“I always want you with me,” Kota said. “I don’t want this...” he gestured between them, “to happen again.”

Kenny looked up and smiled back at him, but it had a cynical bent to it Kota didn’t like. “Sure, but, you know, what you did back then, following your dreams… it wasn’t wrong. I wanted you to be happy, to get what you wanted. I still want you to have all that,” Kenny murmured.

Kota found his mouth in the darkness and kissed him gently.

“All talked out huh?” was Kenny’s response.

“For today.”

The day rolled over unnoticed by either of them. The plane flew on, taking them towards more enemies, fights and friendships. But that was for tomorrow, and it could all wait until then.

 ...