Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rain just wouldn’t stop.

Jiro Kusano stared out of the Bureau of Supernatural Investigation’s window, watching the droplets slide and trickle down the windowpane with a hand cupping his face. Fog coated the streets, making the city’s inhabitants hard to discern from where he stood. With bad weather like that, he’d never be able to wander down the streets for a snack without getting soaked.

How frustrating.

“Oi. What are you staring at?” Muhyo asked, eyes never leaving this month’s copy of Jabin. “See anything interesting?”

Roji hummed. “No. I was just wondering when the rain would stop.”

“Feh. Worried about the weather now, are you? It’s the rainy season. This amount of rain isn’t unusual.”

Muhyo was right, of course. It always rained around this time of the year. Roji didn’t hate the rain, but he didn’t particularly like it either. Rainy days were grey and listless. He preferred sunshine, flowers that bloomed, and multicoloured rainbows that stretched over the sky.

There might have been another reason why Roji didn’t like the rain, but for some reason he didn’t know why. It had always been this way, and no one – not even Muhyo – questioned it when Roji’s mood soured over the rainy season.

The door of the Bureau slammed open, with Nana’s tell-tale high-pitched giggle announcing her arrival. School must have just ended for the day. Roji usually enjoyed Nana’s company, but for some reason her arrival today irked him.

“Roji, Muhyo! I brought cake over today,” Nana said, placing a cardboard box on the counter. Her hair and uniform were thoroughly soaked, but the cardboard box had been carefully wrapped with a plastic bag to preserve its contents. “Look, it’s strawberry flavoured. A new shop opened just down the road, so I thought we’d have some together.”

Muhyo perked up, hopping off the couch to inspect the goods.

Roji reluctantly wandered over. “Have you got another case for us, Nana?”

“Not today.” Nana looked apologetic. “It’s been raining so hard, so everyone goes home straightaway after school. And that fog out there gets quite bad once the sun goes down, so…”

Of course. That made sense.

“What about you two?” she asked. “Do you have lots of new cases coming in?”

“It’s been quiet for a few days now,” Muhyo mused, smearing strawberry icing all over his mouth as he gobbled the cake up like a starved child, “which is surprising. Spirits, ghosts, and all kinds of other nasties like the rain. The gloomy aura amplifies their emotions, so they tend to act up.”

Nana nodded understandingly. “Makes sense. If I see anything, you two will be the first to know.” She turned to Roji, handing to him a plate with a slice of cake on it. “Here, Roji, your share.”

“Thanks, but I’m not very hungry at the moment,” Roji said, plastering a small smile on his face. For some reason, the thought of eating made him squeamish. “Had a big lunch, you know?”

Muhyo paused mid-gobble, eyebrows threatening to rise into his hair. “I don’t think I saw you eat anything for lunch today.”

“Like you’d notice anything else when you’re reading Jabin on the couch like an onion lump,” Roji snorted. “Go ahead. Eat my share if you want.”

“We’ll save it for you.” Nana was already standing up, walking to the fridge.

“Shitty assistant,” Muhyo grumbled. “How are you going to grow if you don’t even eat?”

Roji grinned, deliberately towering over Muhyo as he said, “but I’m still taller than you, right?” Yes, the resounding smack that Muhyo delivered to his head was worth it. Grabbing his coat, Roji strode to the doorway. “Anyway, I’m going for a walk. Maybe I’ll get some groceries on the way home. Thanks for the cake, Nana. I’ll buy you something in return next time.”

“Wait, where are you going in this rain? I can come with you if you want!” Nana said, scrambling to get off the couch.

But Roji was already out of the door.

Nana turned back to Muhyo. The dark-haired Executor looked unfazed, save for the slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Muhyo…is it just me, or is Roji acting quite strangely today?”

“Feh, he’s always giving me trouble,” Muhyo grumbled, turning away. “I’m going back to bed. You should leave too, before it gets dark.”

“But…”

Muhyo snuggled under the covers of his bed. “Go home. There’s nothing you can do for now.” 

Dismissive as always. The teenage schoolgirl bit her lip, but said her goodbyes with a shaky voice.

Muhyo, for his part, stayed in bed until he heard the telltale signs of Nana leaving. It wasn’t surprising that she cared for that shitty assistant of his. They were good friends, and there was nobody else around the Bureau that was at Roji’s age. Yoichi stopped by once or twice a month when an errand had to be done. Kenji showed up once in a blue moon, being not as involved in the whole supernatural scene as much as Nana was. The girl had medium blood in her veins, after all.

But this issue with Roji…was something she shouldn’t interfere with.

Roji. Second Clerk, Muhyo’s assistant. Kind, stubborn, and ridiculously prone to crying. Things hadn’t been easy for him, Muhyo knew. The past month had been a whirlwind of incidents – from Enchu’s appearance at the exams to Rio’s betrayal of the Association, Roji was forced to adapt and improve at a staggeringly quick rate. The Second Clerk wasn’t a natural-born genius. Talent didn’t manifest in Roji as easily as it did in Muhyo.

But Roji worked hard and possessed a heart of gold. That was worth more to Muhyo than anything else.

His assistant also wore his heart on a sleeve. Roji was expressive, and never hesitated to tell others what he felt. He cried, yelled, and complained. So when Roji chose to stare out of a window with a rottenly closed-off expression on his face, Muhyo knew that something was wrong.

He just didn’t know what.

Unless it was affecting Roji’s job, it was not Muhyo’s place to ask. There were also no signs of foul play from any spirits that Muhyo could see. So why did Muhyo feel uneasy? His Roji-radar was going off charts, telling him that he had to go and hunt his assistant down.

Cursing, Muhyo threw the covers off and searched the Bureau high and low for his raincoat.

 ***

The rain was cold. So, so cold. Roji ran, ignoring the shocked squawks of pedestrians as he stomped up puddles on their shoes.

Why ---? Why had he felt so suffocated at the Bureau? Why had Nana and Muhyo’s presence bothered him so much? He glared at the sky accusingly. It was the rain, couldn’t have been anything else but the rain.

How worthless, Roji thought, to not even be able to handle a little rain. That was probably why he couldn’t even help Muhyo when everyone discovered that Rio was a traitor. He couldn’t draw wards properly. He always failed his tests. He couldn’t save Panza, who dedicated her everything to him. At the end of the day, he was nothing more than a burden to the other Executors. To think that Roji even dreamed of being able to stand by Muhyo’s side as an equal.

Poor Nana. Lovely, sweet, concerned Nana. Roji didn’t want her to see him like this, so hurt and upset about something inconsequential. Maybe he’d apologise to her later.

And Muhyo ---

Well. Why would Muhyo care?

He had to clear his head. Yes, that would work. The city was too crowded. The fog was making him woozy. Maybe he would go to the forest nearby. There, at the very least, he could be alone and take the time to think things through. Before Roji knew it, he was far away from the city’s hustle and leaning against a slippery tree trunk with a soft sigh. Mud coated his clothes, but Roji didn’t mind. The earthiness of his surroundings was a cool balm to his rising frustration, soothing the sting in his mind that he couldn’t quite erase.

“Are you alright? You seem upset,” a melodic voice observed.

Eyes closed, Roji groaned internally and prayed that that this helpful stranger would leave. He wasn’t in the mood to have a chat.

The voice pressed on. “Was it Muhyo? What did he do this time?”

Roji’s eyes snapped open ---

--- only to see the smiling face of Enchu, hovering just inches away from his. Violet eyes twinkled, as if he had discovered something amusing (that something being Roji, unusually far away from Muhyo’s side).

Shit.

“Don’t go,” Enchu said, sensing Roji’s sudden spike of alarm. “I won’t hurt you. Why not stay and talk? I’m in no hurry.”

Roji couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. His legs were frozen, glued to the ground from fear. Of all places, what was Enchu doing here?

“I’m just passing by, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Enchu finally, finally stepped away from Roji. Pale hair flowed in the breeze, framing Enchu’s face like a portrait. “I really won’t hurt you, you know. You can trust me just this once.”

It took several moments for Roji to find his voice again. “Like how Muhyo and everyone else trusted you?”

“You wound me, Kusano Jiro. No, they call you Roji, don’t they?” Enchu clapped his hands, a small giggle escaping his lips. He whispered Roji’s name with a roll of his tongue, as if Roji’s name was something unique to be savoured. “I like it. It makes us sound like old friends.”

What was it that Muhyo told him again? That Enchu was a master at manipulating others, trapping ghosts and humans alike in his web? Roji could see why it was possible. To begin with, Enchu was beautiful as he was enchanting. But it was more than just that. Enchu…

“Muhyo isn’t good at appreciating others, you know. There’s a reason why he hasn’t had an assistant for so long. He doesn’t need them…and he doesn’t need you.”

…Enchu knew how to strike at what hurt the most.

“I know that,” Roji snapped. “Of course he doesn’t need me. He’s one of the best Executors out there. He’s better than you.”

Perhaps it was his imagination, but for a split second Roji swore he saw Enchu’s soft, violet eyes turn flinty with rage. Then it was gone, and Enchu was kneeling down to trace Roji’s cheeks with cold, slender fingers. Roji suppressed the urge to shudder. “Does being cast aside like that not make you feel anything, Roji?”

It was like being touched by a dead fish. “W-what do you mean?”

“Muhyo doesn’t appreciate you. He laughs at you, puts you down. When was the last time he’s ever thanked you for something?” Close --- Enchu was hovering too close. Roji swallowed, unable to tear his gaze away from the fluttering of Enchu’s thick, full eyelashes. Then Enchu’s pale fingers began to stroke Roji’s swollen cheeks, methodical with every touch. “Look at that…he even made you cry.”

It wasn’t meant to be soothing, but Roji found himself involuntarily relaxing at the repeated administration of touch. “I…I wasn’t crying.”

Enchu tutted, swiping away at fresh tears. Was there nothing that Roji could hide from this beautiful monster? “So cruel, Muhyo. So, so cruel…”

“Muhyo’s…not cruel.”

“No? Then tell me something, Roji. Did Muhyo ever try to understand you?”

Roji froze, the words ringing in his ears.

Enchu’s gaze darkened with triumph. “See, I thought so. You’ve tried so hard. Don’t you think you deserve more? He’s never asked you about your past, or what it is that you’re feeling. He’s never shown any interest in what you do, what you like, or what you dislike. It’s because he’s selfish, Roji. Muhyo doesn’t care about anyone else. You are nothing more than a tool for him to use.”

Roji knew he shouldn’t be listening. Enchu’s words were poison. He tricks, he steals! But Roji couldn’t help the pain that welled up in him, fresh and raw. Everything Enchu said was true. Roji was always chasing after Muhyo’s back, running in the shadow of one of the best Executors that ever existed. Muhyo, on the other hand…

…

Ahhh.

Why wouldn’t the damn rain stop?

“Roji?”

“Ah. Sorry,” Roji said, even though he wasn’t sure why he was apologising to Muhyo’s biggest enemy.

“You were glaring at the sky,” Enchu murmured, looking puzzled. “Does the rain bother you?”

Roji turned away. “A little. Not sure why. Doesn’t concern you.”

“Come now, don’t be like that. You can tell me anything. Muhyo doesn’t listen, but I do.” Enchu looked earnest, his sincere smile dazzling in the thick of the forest.

And Roji was so, so tired. “I don’t know. I just hate the rain. There’s just something about it that I didn’t like, for as long as I could remember.”

“Hmm. Was there anything that happened which made you dislike it so much?”

“I don’t know. Why are we playing 20 questions? Weren’t we talking about Muhyo and your eternal dislike for him?”  

“Because unlike Muhyo, I am interested in you. Could it be there’s something about the rain that you don’t remember?” Enchu asked, suddenly looking every bit as intellectual as Muhyo did when he was pondering something.

Roji blinked. What did that question mean?

“See, when humans encounter something they really, really don’t like, their brains often make them forget. I guess it’s something like a defence mechanism, if you catch my drift. So whatever you’re feeling now probably relates to something really bad that happened to you in the past. But because you haven’t acknowledged it, the awful feeling stays with you – even though you’re not sure why.” Enchu’s smile grew, distorting into something that wasn’t quite as angelic. “Hey, given the chance…”

Uh-oh. Roji tried to push away, but Enchu’s grip was solid. His wards – where were his wards? Roji should have attacked Enchu as soon as he saw him, not engage in dumb, sappy, touchy-feely conversation.

“Ahaha, were you looking for this?” Enchu held up the soaked wards in his hands, along with Roji’s magic pen.

Shit. That must have happened when Enchu was too busy fondling Roji’s face. And Roji, too distracted, hadn’t noticed.

“Let – go! I thought you just wanted to talk!”

“I did,” Enchu said, voice breathy with excitement. “And you didn’t let me finish. So let me ask you this, Kusano Jiro…” Roji stilled, watching in horror as those violet eyes glowed an angry crimson, “given the chance, wouldn’t you like to remember the things that mattered – and forget everything else that hurt?”

***

“That useless assistant, making everyone search for him…” Muhyo growled, squinting to see in the rain. The weather forecast had predicted the rain would stop by nightfall, but for some reason it had only worsened. If this torrential rain continued, the city would surely flood soon. “Oi, are you picking up anything?”

Judge Yoichi shook his head. “No sign of him, and nothing from the searching spells I’ve cast. Look, are you sure you’re not just being too worried? Maybe he had an upset stomach. Maybe he went to visit Nana!”

“That idiot never skips dinner!” Muhyo barked. “And I’m hungry as hell. I’m making him buy every single copy of Jabin for the next two years with his own damn money, I swear!”

Yoichi rolled his eyes, dragging the zipper of his raincoat up so high that only half of his face was visible. “What kind of dumb observation is that? ‘That idiot never skips dinner’ --- really? God, Muhyo, just admit that you care for him already! And I’m talking about genuine affection, not the usual I-tolerate-your-presence-just-because-you-are-useful-to-me crap you pull!”

“Feh! I’ll do that when he stops being a pain in the ass!”

“Listen to how stubborn you sound…you watch over him like a hawk, Muhyo,” Yoichi said, his voice muffled from the sound of the rain. “Everyone knows what you feel for him, even if you can’t admit that to yourself.”

Muhyo resisted the urge to sentence Yoichi to Beelzebub’s Box. “Shut up and keep looking…oi, wait. Pick up your phone.”

Yoichi’s phone was ringing, the annoying ringtone loud and clear despite the rain.

“Geez, now isn’t a good time…” Yoichi muttered, fumbling around his raincoat to answer it. “Biko --- look, can you call me back? I’m just with Muhyo in this rain looking for that sprout…wait, what did you say?” Yoichi’s eyes widened like dinner plates, and the sinking feeling in Muhyo’s gut worsened. “Roji’s wreaking havoc? At MLS? You couldn’t stop him…what?! Are you sure we’re talking about the same Roji?”

Muhyo was already readying a gateway to MLS, dragging Yoichi along into it with a growl under his breath.

***

The boy before them was Roji, alright --- but at the same time it wasn’t Roji at all.

Roji looked like hell. His ash blond hair was mussed and covered in bloodstains, and there were large rips in his blue sweater that had seen better days. Those rips were accompanied with gashes that stained his entire front with red. The velvet blue ribbon and pendant that Muhyo knew adorned Roji’s button-up shirts for years were also nowhere to be seen.

More disturbing, however, was the lack of expression on Roji’s usually smiling face. The light in those amber eyes were gone. In its place was a darkened, soulless stare that would chill a regular person to their bones. 

Muhyo grinned. “Looks like my shitty assistant put up quite the fight before he turned out like this.”   

“What on earth is wrong with him?” Yoichi demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Roji. “And why are those things with him?”

Said things were monstrous blobs, some goopy, some looking like the standard varieties that ascended fresh out of hell. Varying in shapes and sizes, an assortment of ghosts, restless spirits, and poltergeists rallied around Roji. They gurgled, groaned, and screamed the way all monsters did.

Roji’s lips were moving silently, but his stare remained vacant. A trickle of blood leaked out his mouth, splashing onto his collarbone before the rain washed it away. Muhyo’s eyes tracked the movement, mentally noting the condition that his Second Clerk was in. It would almost have been a captivating sight, if not for the fact that he had never seen Roji this badly injured before.  

“Someone attacked Roji,” Muhyo responded, “that much is obvious. And the creatures are surrounding him, because Roji’s commanding them to do so.”

Yoichi gaped. “Are you serious? Can he usually do that?”

“Are you stupid? Of course not,” Muhyo retorted, surveying their surroundings. Destroyed buildings, shattered glass fragments, and torn-up roads littered the area. “Whoever got to him must have also given him the knowledge and ability to control those creatures.”

And because there were very few people who could achieve such a feat, Muhyo already knew who the culprit was.

Biko was crawling out from a rubble, unhurt even though her hat now had a large tear running through it. “Roji appeared out of nowhere with those creatures and started destroying everything. We yelled at him, called out to him…but nothing seemed to work. It’s like he doesn’t know or remember us. Is this Panza all over again?”

“No,” Muhyo said, “look carefully. He’s fully conscious and aware of what he’s doing. The people who Panza controlled became zombie puppets who only took action when their threads were pulled. I think I know what’s going on --- I just need to confirm it.”

Ignoring Biko and Yoichi’s protests, Muhyo strode to Roji with the calm and confidence that only a top Executor could pull off in the face of a crisis. Roji, who had been staring into the distance, turned as Muhyo approached. His heart sank as not even an inkling of recognition registered in Roji’s eyes.

Still, Muhyo knew he had to say something. “Yo. Looks like you’ve been having the time of your life, hm? Did you want to break the rules and become a forbidden practitioner so much?”

“Executor Muhyo.” Roji’s voice was flat and robotic. It didn’t suit him. “You came. I thought you might.”

“While your rebellious phase is amusing to watch, I don’t think you realise the strain it’s putting on your body,” Muhyo observed. “You’re leaking too much ren. That ribbon you have is a magic tool that stems its outflow. I don’t know if you ever knew that, but I did. Old man Page gave that to you many years ago, didn’t he? Where is it?”

Roji cocked his head, as if realising that his collar was bare for the first time. “It doesn’t matter.” Then he doubled over and coughed, spraying the ground with more blood. “It doesn’t hurt.” Standing upright once again so that he could look down at Muhyo with dead eyes, Roji said, “the person who should be in pain is you, Executor Muhyo.”

It was time to confirm whether his hypothesis was right. “Hee hee, all this time I’ve been trying to get you to show me some respect…and now you choose to call me by my title? How flattering, shitty assistant.”

There it was --- the faint tinge of confusion on Roji’s expression that no one else but Muhyo could have picked up. “I have no memory of ever conversing with you, Executor Muhyo.”

Yoichi and Biko held onto each other and gasped.

“He has no memory of Muhyo!?” Yoichi cried.

Biko’s eyes watered. “For him to reject Muhyo…it’s just like Rio when she turned her backs on us…”

“Shut up you two, we’re not watching a soap opera here,” Muhyo snapped. He turned back to Roji, grinning more widely than ever. Enchu had some nerve, to make such a bold move on his assistant. “Looks like Roji’s memories have been messed with. His memories of me are gone. In its place is forbidden knowledge of dark magic, and…”

Dared Muhyo speculate?

Could he?

“…something else that Roji never wanted to remember.”

Muhyo allowed himself to speculate, but only because he had never been wrong on anything that concerned one of his own before.

It seemed like Muhyo was right, because Roji’s eyes began to glow an angry red --- the same kind of murderous look that Enchu took on when things didn’t go his way. On command, the ghosts surrounding Roji lunged. Their wails and ghoulish cries increased to a bloodthirsty crescendo, limbs and monstrous claws extending to tear Muhyo to pieces. But Muhyo was a top Executor, so all it took was a well-aimed execution to send many of them straight to Hades.

Muhyo flipped into the air with a smirk, magic book clutched under his arms. “Is that all you have? Come on, you were far better when you were being my assistant.”

“I just need to wear you out. You cannot execute ghosts and spirits forever,” Roji replied simply, sending another wave of spirits over. “Sooner or later, your ren will run out.”

“And you’re hurting yourself. Honestly, do you think the ability to control spirits comes without a price?” Muhyo muttered. “Yoichi, Biko! Get moving. We’re going to restrain him.”

Snapping out of their stupor, Yoichi and Biko rushed forward. Biko, unable to use magical tools, tossed Yoichi a long, gleaming coil of rope instead. “I’ve enchanted these with a strengthening solution --- they should hold, but it’s probably better if we knock him out instead!”

“Could we put him to sleep?” Yoichi suggested, grimacing at the rope and what it entailed. “I’d rather do that than wrestle Roji to the ground.”

“If we did that, we risk putting ourselves to sleep too,” Biko wailed.

Muhyo snorted. “And I have a magic law for sleep but that requires extreme precision. It’ll never work on Roji, not when he’s surrounded by all those spirits. We’ll have to overpower him. It’s the only way.”

“This feels so wrong,” Yoichi moaned, slapping some wards on two angry spirits.

Muhyo couldn’t help but grunt in agreement. The idea of restraining Roji didn’t sound fun.

“We should act quickly,” Biko urged. “Roji’s not looking good.”

Biko was right. Roji looked like a walking corpse. Muhyo had no doubt that the strain of controlling so many spirits --- coupled with other injuries Roji had sustained from resisting Enchu --- was putting the Second Clerk’s life in danger. They had to act fast. Why were they hesitating? Why was he hesitating?

--- no.

There could be no hesitation. Not when Roji’s life was at stake.

“Magic Law, Article 1742 --- for the crimes of attempted mass murder, destruction of property, and illegal stay in the world of living…” Muhyo chanted, the pages of his magic encyclopaedia flapping wildly in the wind, “I pronounce the sentence of the Magic Train!”

Roji blinked. “Magic…Train?”

Biko and Yoichi cheered. The Magic Train was one of the most powerful sentences an executor could pronounce. With its steaming locomotive and multiple carriages, the Magic Train’s hands swept up all the creatures the Executor wanted to sentence in one fell swoop. Muhyo had only used it once in his life, in his previous fight with Enchu at MLS. Roji had been there, witnessing the sentencing with astounded eyes.

Would Roji remember? Said assistant collapsed to the ground with glassy eyes, chest heaving in exertion.  

“Muh…yo?” Roji murmured --- voice scratchy and broken --- before slumping into an unconscious heap.

Well, that was that. Sighing, Muhyo moved so that he could lie against Roji’s side. Pronouncing two judgments in a short span of time was exhausting. He missed Roji’s piggybacks. Those were warm, comfortable, and always relaxed Muhyo after a long battle.

“Get away from him, Muhyo,” Yoichi hissed. “He’s probably still dangerous.”

Muhyo groaned. Why wasn’t anyone giving him a break? “Roji could never be more dangerous to me than a fly.”

“Are you kidding? He made you use the Magic Train!”

“Enchu made me use the Magic Train.”

Yoichi and Biko regarded each other cautiously, looking unsurprised that Enchu’s name was mentioned. Yoichi said, “I don’t think Enchu’s spell would wear off that easily. The next time Roji wakes up, he’ll no doubt attack gain.”

Biko piped up, “I hate to say this, but Yoichi’s right. We need to put Roji in a cell. The only reason why this place isn’t decimated is because we had you, but we don’t know what else Roji might try to pull while you’re resting.”

That made sense. Reluctantly, Muhyo allowed Biko and Yoichi to tie Roji up and haul him away. His side felt far colder without Roji leaning against him. Ignoring the fact that he was still outside, Muhyo closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him. 

***

Roji woke up in what looked like a dungeon, knowing only the fact that he had failed in his mission to kill Executor Muhyo. The power that had previously surged in him was muted, most likely by spells, wards, and the enchanted chains binding his hands that were specifically designed to suppress magic.

Still, his body screamed in relief, if only because it no longer burned from the surging power that had scorched his veins and sizzled him from the inside. A quick inspection under his shirt showed that someone had also carefully applied bandages and medicine to his injuries, which served to quell the pain.

He supposed that kind of pain was a necessary price to pay to get the supernatural to obey him. All to defeat Executor Muhyo. Executor Muhyo…

…was standing right in front of him, glaring at Roji with large, navy eyes.

“Executor Muhyo,” Roji greeted, ignoring the fact that the name was beginning to sound more and more familiar the more he repeated it, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Roji thought he heard the Executor mutter something like “God, when will he stop addressing me like that” before he loudly said, “yo, shitty assistant. Are you ready to end your rebellious phase now? This whole act’s tiring me out. I’m ready to sleep for another three days.”

“I am not your assistant,” Roji said automatically.

“Alright, alright, Enchu messed with your memory. I get that. But enough is enough.” The Executor plopped himself down to sit in front of Roji buddha style. “We’re going to fix this, so let’s start with the easy questions. What do you remember?”

What did he remember? It was a haze. He remembered rain. A lot of rain. A painful memory, from a long time ago. Confusion. Frustration. Sadness. A few flickering silhouettes. But apart from that, all Roji could recall was static.

He received a disappointed huff in response. “Nothing helpful, eh? Well, looks like there’s only one way to fix this. Prepare yourself, hee hee.”

Then Executor Muhyo was crawling onto Roji’s lap, forcefully pressing his lips against Roji’s.

***

“It says here that restoring memories isn’t as easy as removing them,” Biko said, looking up from a thick text book. “Returning someone’s memories requires a high degree of intimacy. You need to enter that person’s mind, and trigger the return of the memory that was lost.”

Yoichi balked. “What on earth does that mean? How do you even enter someone’s mind? What, do people just stroll in and say ‘hey, what’s up’? And how are you meant to ‘trigger’ the return of a memory?”

“Hmm…” Biko flipped a few pages. “The book doesn’t explain how that works. But I guess it relates to the whole section here on intimacy. The chances of restoring a memory is higher if it is done by someone who the affected person trusts.”

“Done by someone who the affected person trusts…” Yoichi muttered. Then he blinked. “Wait, what about this whole thing on intimacy? How are you meant to be,” he air-quoted, “intimate?”

“Calm down, you two,” Muhyo murmured, rubbing sleep from his eyes. In the aftermath, Yoichi and Biko had moved him to a much more comfortable place to sleep on. “I’ll be the one doing it, so I’ll figure something out.”

Biko and Yoichi rushed to him and began to fuss, but the gears in Muhyo’s brain were already turning.

***

***

It was raining, and Roji wasn’t sure why the strange boy standing before him felt so familiar.

While the boy looked young, he possessed a piercing set of navy blue eyes that looked like they had seen the best and worst of what the world had to offer. He also looked out of place with his dark robes, red shorts and suspenders, emitting a strange glow in a world that was devoid of colour.

“So this is your memory, huh?” the boy muttered, kicking slops of wet mud off his shoes. He looked around, analysing their surroundings with careful eyes. Roji and the boy were in a little village centre, with old, scattered, crumbling houses and one old, moss-covered well. Puddles formed on the gravel road, and next to them was a rusted iron gate separating the village from the local graveyard. “Did you live here as a child or something?”

“I did.” The words came easily to Roji’s lips. For some reason, he trusted this boy.

The boy looked contemplative. “Hm. Not the liveliest place, is it?”

“…it was my fault, I think. That the village turned out this way.”

“Oh?” the boy arched a curious eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

Roji smiled, not seeing a problem in telling him. “Spirits come to me. For some reason, I attract them. Some of the superstitious villagers called me a cursed child. The spirits caused so much trouble that many villagers left. Some people…” at this, Roji’s gaze flitted to the graveyard, “…even got hurt.”

“…I see,” the boy murmured. “You were prone to releasing ren. It was your encounter with old man Page afterwards, and his gift to you, that stopped it.”

While none of these words made sense to Roji, for some reason he knew that the boy was correct. “Yes.”

The boy deftly climbed over the iron gate, landing onto the graveyard’s soft soil. “These people. Did they mean much to you?”

“Not all of them. But some…” Roji followed, uncertain why the boy cared.

What even was this boy’s name? How did he make it to such a desolate place?

The boy’s gaze was fierce. “Show me.”

“Some of them…here…were my friends. I don’t remember. I don’t know. Burials and rituals happen quite quickly, you know? And our village, we mourn and move on. We don’t like superstition. But these here…” Roji paused, stopping at two marble graves covered in twining weeds, “are mum and dad. They died in a car crash, on a day when it rained just like this. I screamed. I cried. Mum and dad were gone, just like that. But do you know what people said? They said that with all the spirits I attracted, I may as well have been the one to kill them. They blamed me. Said the car crash was the doing of a spirit.”

The boy sucked in a harsh breath. “Was this when you decided to move to the city, and learn about magic?”

Roji blinked, surprised to see at the anger on the boy’s young face. “Yes. I decided to put everything behind me, and leave.”

“Well, what happened next?” the boy demanded. “Who did you meet while you learned everything about magic?”

…Who? Roji frowned, feeling like he was missing out on something --- or someone important. Someone who was worth following to the ends of the earth for; someone who he trusted with his life ---

“I met someone…I think,” Roji said, choosing his words carefully. “He…was good to me. But I got angry, and scared.”

“Why?” the boy asked, frowning.

Why, indeed? Roji didn’t know. His heart felt heavy, burdened with an emotion he couldn’t name. But the boy before him was waiting patiently, giving time for Roji to think.

Then a flash of darkness overtook him, and Roji found himself stumbling into the boy’s arms. The sound of static overwhelmed Roji so much that for a moment, he had forgotten how to breathe. “I don’t know. I don’t know. My head…everything’s messed up. I can’t remember anything else but the fact that everything was my fault.”

Understanding dawned on the boy’s eyes, even as his knees buckled to support Roji’s weight. “This was the memory you forgot. This is the reason you dislike rainy days.”

“I guess. I hated the rain, because it reminds me of the day my parents died. Even when the funeral happened a few days later, the rain never stopped. It was a reminder that I was the bearer of misfortune, that all I could do was hurt those close to me.”

The boy’s grip tightened. “Enough. When are you going to stop with this self-pitying shit?”

Roji’s head snapped up. There was something familiar in that harsh tone that Roji couldn’t yet place. “What do you mean?”

“I meant exactly what I said. You blame your parents’ death on yourself, when you know damn well it wasn’t your fault. Isn’t it about time you step forward and fully accept that?” The boy’s blue eyes were blazing with a fire that Roji interpreted as anger. “You left this place. You learned magic. What was all that for? Was that all just a ploy to distract yourself from this past of yours?”

Roji shook his head vehemently, despairing at the accusation. “No. Never! It wasn’t that. I wanted to learn magic. I wanted to see the world. I…wanted to use my knowledge to help others. Magic law was meant to be used for helping others, not to hurt them. That’s what…he taught me.”

“He?” the boy asked, scoffing. “What was so good about him? Wouldn’t you say that he was useless, to not even realise his very own assistant was suffering?”

“Don’t you dare call him that,” Roji snarled, hauling the boy up by the front of his dark robes. The boy didn’t resist, didn’t even bat an eyelid. “I won’t tolerate anyone who tries to hurt him!”

“Hee hee, that’s an interesting reaction. Why do you even care for him that much?”

“Because I want to stand by him. Help him fight his enemies. And yet…” Roji uncurled his fingers, dropping the boy to the ground. Static once again filled his head. “…I can’t even remember who he is. Not his name, not his face. I must have done something to mess up, I know it. I think I hurt him, and some other people. There was something dark and powerful, and I lost to it.”

There was something old and sad in the boy’s expression. “You did. But it wasn’t your fault.”  

“You don’t know that.” Roji crawled over to the boy, ignoring the cold mud that smeared his limbs. “Hey, can you tell me what I’ve forgotten? You seem to know me. I don’t know how you’re here, but please…”

The boy laughed bitterly. “God, you have no idea how I just want to tell you everything so that we can get this over and done with. But unfortunately, if I do that, we’ll never undo the spell. You have to do the remembering yourself, Roji.”

“I’m scared of what will happen if I do remember.” Was it just Roji’s imagination, or was the rain falling harder? Was the static growing stronger? Instinct told Roji that he had to run and escape from this prying boy and his persistent questions.

A warm hand shot out, grabbing Roji by the shoulder. The boy’s expression was stern. “Oi, stop that. No more running away, Roji. You’re confronting these fears today. I’m not going to let this happen again. I swear it.”

Just like that, the static stopped. The dark edges that had been dotting Roji’s vision faded, and suddenly Roji found himself being able to think a little more clearly than before.

“You want to stand by this person’s side, right?” the boy asked lowly, turning away so that Roji couldn’t see his face. “If that’s the case, then what are you so scared about?”

Tears welled up in Roji’s eyes. “I’m scared that he’ll no longer have a use for me. He’ll tell me to leave, to go far away, and to never return. I want to be so much more for him…and I want the two of us to always be together.”

“To always be together…” the boy mused. “You’d accept his flaws and all the wrong he’s done unto you, just to be with him?”

Roji felt the corners of his lips pull into a smile. “Yes. After all…I…I think I love him, you know?”

But the boy froze, mouth hanging open. “What?”

“I love him,” Roji declared. “I’ve never been more certain. Yes, he has flaws. He’s grumpy. He complains about everything. Sometimes he hurts the people around him without realising it. But you need to understand just how much he means to me.” The words were coming naturally to Roji, as if he had known them his entire life. “He taught me what it was like to use magic. He’s kind, even if others don’t see it. He cares deeply, even after he was betrayed by the person who was closest to him. He’s strong, and he helps others be the best version of themselves.” Roji’s voice increased in volume. “Of course I love him. How could I not?”

The boy continued to gape, standing stiffly in front of Roji. His expression was disbelieving, as if he couldn’t quite process the fact that Roji had just put his entire heart out there for the taking. Then the boy started cackling, laughing so hard until he doubled over in mirth.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it,” Roji said with a frown.

The boy continued to laugh, pounding a fist to the ground. “Ahh, no. It’s not that. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…” the boy lifted his gaze to meet Roji’s squarely, “…that you’re really something, you know?”

Roji’s lips parted, unsure of what to say.

“Hee hee. Don’t look so shocked. We have a lot to talk about. And honestly, I don’t want to do it here. It’s cold. It’s kind of gloomy. If I’m going to kiss you again, I’d also prefer that I do it under less stressful circumstances.” The boy grinned, and Roji’s heart did a little backflip. There it was again --- that familiarity, that squeeze of affection that Roji couldn’t name. “So come back to me…Roji.”

***

Roji sucked in a harsh breath, feeling the chains tug and pull at his chafed wrists. His head pounded with the force of a hundred drumrolls. Memories were flooding back --- running away from the Bureau, meeting Enchu, attacking MLS, fighting against Muhyo, Muhyo kissing him, Muhyo slipping into Roji’s memories…

…Muhyo, who was sitting on Roji’s lap with an impatient glare on his face.

Oh, god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. There was no running away this time, and Muhyo seemed extra-determined to have a Proper Conversation.

“Uh.” Roji was off to a good start. “Hey, Muhyo…?”

Muhyo brought his fist onto Roji’s head, worsening Roji’s splitting headache. “HEY yourself! Shitty assistant, do you even realise how much trouble I had to go through just to bring you back to normal? You left a huge mess behind! We’ll be owing MLS so much just to have them overlook this!”

“I’m sooo-rry!” Roji wailed, quaking under Muhyo’s explosive anger. “I tried to fight back, I really did! But Enchu…he…!” 

“I know EXACTLY what he did,” Muhyo said, twitching in irritation. “Which is what pisses me off even more! Do you know just how close we were to losing you? You could have lost your memories forever! You could have been locked up in this dungeon for the rest of your life, not knowing who you truly were!”

Roji reached a finger out to tap at the frown lines that were marring Muhyo’s grumpy face. So Muhyo had been genuinely worried. “But I’m here, aren’t I? I’m right here with you.”

Then the magnitude of his confession registered, and Roji felt his face flush. He hastily buried his face into Muhyo’s hair, hoping the short Executor wouldn’t notice.

But of course Muhyo was more observant than that. “Oh, now you choose to be shy? Hee hee.”

“…‘m not.”

“You are. It’s adorable. That confession of yours, it wasn’t bad. I enjoyed it.”

Hearing such words from Muhyo made Roji squirm even more. “Shut up, Muhyo.”

“No. We’re going to talk about everything, remember? Hm. Maybe when we’re at home, with warm beds and a good meal.” Muhyo stood up, dusting himself off. “We should get these chains off you first. I think our spies have listened in long enough. Isn’t that right --- Yoichi, Biko?”

Roji watched in astonishment as Yoichi and Biko tumbled into the cell, looking embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping.

“ROJI!” Yoichi bawled, leaping into Roji’s arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Biko unlocked Roji’s shackles, her eyes red-rimmed from tears.  

“You guys were the ones to patch me up, right?” Roji said, gesturing at the bandages under his shirt. Truly, he owed them both. “Thank you for doing that.”

Biko and Yoichi sniffled a little more, until Muhyo interrupted with a loud yawn. “Alright. Home. Now. Let’s go.”

“Okay…” Roji wiped his tears away, feeling more relieved than ever. “Okay, Muhyo.”

Biko and Yochi watched the odd duo leave from an exit portal, Muhyo all the while smacking Roji on the head even as Roji whined and complained.

“Hey, Biko…” Yoichi murmured. “What do you think happened when Muhyo was in Roji’s memories? Didn’t Muhyo mention something about a confession?”

Biko smiled. “Who knows? We have Roji back safe and sound. That’s what matters.”

The judge nodded. “You’re right.” Feeling the heat of something on his back, Yoichi turned to see the sun’s rays shining through the window. “Ah, Biko….”

“Hmm?” Biko hummed absent-mindedly.

Yoichi smiled. “Looks like the rain has finally stopped.”

Chapter Text

Being possessed by weird and most-definitely-evil entities thanks to the archenemy of your boss sucked.

Being injured sucked.

But having to survive the aftermath of all of that doubly sucked.

Roji slept for three days straight, waking only in delirious fits of fever and pained moans. Day four finally greeted him with the sound of chirping birds, warm light streaming through the windows, and a sense of clarity he hadn’t possessed in a while. Pushing several thick blankets off him (strange, when had he been lucid enough to grab the flower-patterned quilts from the closet?), Roji staggered into the bathroom to freshen up.

Urgh, he looked gross. Roji couldn’t remember the last time he looked that monstrous. His hair was sticking up in different tufts from having slept in the same position for so long, and there were dark shadows under his crusty eyes that indicated he still needed more rest.

He had no idea how he would take a shower, thanks to the numerous swathes of bandages that were tightly wrapped around his torso. It hurt to even move, much less take them off. But it was okay. Roji would manage. 

The fresh roll of bandages in his hands chose at this very convenient moment to slip and roll under the sink. Cursing softly, Roji bent over to retrieve it. A fresh stab of pain that shot through made him pause. Ouch. Maybe if he tried again, this time v-e-e-e-ry, very slowly…

Knock, knock.

Roji jumped, the image of Enchu and his sickly laughter momentarily resurfacing. But Roji forced himself to remember that he was back in the office. There was no one else who could be here but Muhyo. And true to his word, Muhyo barked, “are you done? I need to wash my hands.”

“Uh, yes!” Roji responded, hand already flying to the doorknob. Obeying Muhyo was always a reflex. But he was naked, save for the hastily-wrapped towel around his waist. Walking out right now would mean showing to Muhyo the ugly, angry-looking wound that still looked like a gaping hole on his chest. He could put on his sweat-soaked, filthy, slept-in shirt, but…

He could hear Muhyo tapping his foot impatiently outside the bathroom.

“Actually…” Roji said in a small voice, “if you’re just washing your hands, could you use the sink in the kitchen?”

The tapping stopped. Muhyo’s disbelieving “huh?” was followed up with, “I want to have a shower too, you idiot. You’ve been in there for half an hour. What’s the hold up?”

It seemed like there was no way of getting out of this one. Relenting, Roji twisted the doorknob and swiftly stepped aside so that Muhyo wouldn’t see.

Muhyo sighed sharply, gesturing at the fresh bandages that had unravelled and now littered the floor in a sea of white. “Oi. You forgot those.”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, get them later,” Roji babbled, hobbling over to his room and shutting the door before Muhyo could say anymore.

Phew. That was close, but Roji was in the all-clear. Muhyo would take his shower and be so distracted by what they would have for lunch that he wouldn’t notice how weird Roji was being. Roji winced. Lunch. Did they even have any food left in the fridge? After getting dressed in a loose, airy white shirt, Roji hobbled into the kitchen to inspect their pantry.

He heard the shower running as he walked past the bathroom, which meant that Muhyo was truly having a shower. Good.

“As I thought, we don’t have anything that’d be good for lunch…” Roji murmured, disappointment mounting at the bare pantry that met his gaze. He would have liked to be able to have food for Muhyo on the table as soon as Muhyo walked out of the shower, but that probably wouldn’t happen unless he managed to make it to the market and back in ten minutes.

Just as Roji pondered over the mysteries of how he would make his way to the market without falling over and making a fool of himself, Muhyo called out, “oi, Roji. I want pizza for lunch today.”

“Pizza?” Strange. Muhyo rarely ate pizza. Roji was more of a fan, slobbering and drooling over the cheesy goodness whenever Nana brought some over. “Are you sure?”

“What, can’t I have pizza when I want to?”

Roji sighed. “Okay, pizza, alright. What kind?”

“I don’t care. Get something you’d like. Pepperoni, or whatever.”

“Sure.” Dominos was only a ten-minute walk from theirs. It was easier to make it there than to the market.

Muhyo’s next words were even more puzzling. “Get the pizza delivered.”

“Delivered? Pizza’s only a few blocks away from ours, Muhyo.”

The sound of the shower stopped. “I’m aware. But you can’t walk far with those injuries, can you?”

…Oh. 

Roji rang up Dominos, ordering two of his favourites and requested for it to be delivered to the office. Having nothing else to do, he walked over to Muhyo’s desk and began sorting through the pile of paperwork and letters that were delivered to them in the past few days. Plenty of mail came to the office. Muhyo was a popular Executor, after all.

“Roji.” Fresh out of his shower, Muhyo’s dark hair was wet, droplets trickling all over his face. His hands held the roll of bandages that Roji failed to pick up earlier. “Go sit on the couch.”

Confused, Roji obeyed.

“Take off your shirt,” Muhyo ordered.

…What.

The Executor snorted at the scandalised look on Roji’s face. “That wound of yours needs to be re-bandaged, right?”

Flushing, Roji shook his head. “No, I mean, yes, but I can do it myself.”

“You’ll trouble me even more if you do a shitty job. It’s hard to wrap these around yourself when you can’t reach around your back,” Muhyo said. Blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s the problem? It’s not like I haven’t seen you shirtless before.”

“Wouldn’t it…gross you out?” Roji asked timidly.

Muhyo bristled in irritation. “Gross me out? You’ll have to be more specific, Roji. I’ve seen the depths of hell, blood, death, and plenty of things that would disgust the regular human being. So what exactly do you mean when you ask if it’ll ‘gross me out’?”

Roji gestured to the area where he knew the gash inflicted on him was at its deepest, eyes downcast. “You heard what Yoichi and Biko said before we left, right? Because this wound was caused by magic, it won’t heal for a long time. And even if it does, it’ll probably leave a scar.” A really ugly, disgusting, monstrous scar, Roji finished wordlessly.

Muhyo blinked in realisation. He set the bandages down, picking up the copy of Jabin that was lying on the coffee table. Before Roji could question what the dark-haired Executor was doing, Muhyo brought the magazine down on Roji’s head so hard that Roji yelped in pain.

“Ow, ow, ow! Muhyo, that was mean! What’d you do that for?”

“Are you,” Muhyo began, eyes blazing, “seriously worried about that right now?”  

Roji gawked, offended. “What? I’m serious! It looks ugly, Muhyo.”

“Do you think I care? Shirt. Off. NOW.”

“Nooooo, Muhyo, you’re never going to make me…eek!” Roji flailed as Muhyo, the sneaky little bastard, crept up from behind and yanked Roji’s shirt off in one swift, fluid motion. For someone of that stature, Muhyo was ridiculously strong when he needed to be.

Roji didn’t squeal like a little girl. He definitely didn’t.

Muhyo towered over his assistant with crossed arms, smiling smugly. “Hee hee. There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“…I feel violated. Horribly, horribly violated.”

“You were being stubborn. Sit up so that we can get this over and done with.”

With a grimace, Roji obeyed. Even in the haze of pain, the embarrassment at being in such a vulnerable position before his mentor and the person who he held dear the most made him flush. His skin itched, the urge to cover himself up now stronger than ever.    

Despite his snappish demeanour, Muhyo’s hands were surprisingly gentle. He began looping the bandages around Roji, before pausing to say, “oh, wait. I forgot the ointment.”

The what? If Roji hadn’t been short-circuiting, he certainly was now. Muhyo returned a few seconds later, a small pot of ointment labelled “BIKO’S MEDICINE” and a small line of handwriting that said “apply before bandaging” in his hands.

Muhyo unscrewed the lid and dipped a finger into something that was most definitely custom-made gooey, magical paste. Wait. Wait. Wait…

“If you run and make me chase you around the office, I’m going to be very annoyed,” Muhyo threatened, before reaching over to smear the paste on Roji’s skin.

Every single inch of bare skin that Muhyo touched burned. Either the magic medicine was doing a fantastic job, or that was Roji’s poor heart threatening to leap out of his chest. If Muhyo noticed (and there was nothing that escaped Muhyo’s notice), then he certainly didn’t let on.

The gash wasn’t large. It was about the length of a small ruler, a diagonal slash just between Roji’s stomach and his chest. But the gash had cut deep, and the surge of power that Roji experienced while commandeering a horde of angry spirits had worsened its effects. Biko had stitched it up, methodical as she was, but with the lingering effects of dark magic those stitches constantly frayed. Biko’s solution was to custom-make an ointment that made sure the stitches were steadfast and strong, allowing the cut to remain closed while Roji’s body did its job.

Wait. If Roji had been unconscious for the past few days, then that meant…

“Muhyo…” Roji began, the realisation dawning on him, “have you been applying this…medicine…and changing my bandages for the past three days?”

Muhyo snorted. “What do you think? You were out of it. Someone had to make sure that injury didn’t kill you.”

“Why didn’t you just leave me at the Magic Law School?” Surely that was the easier option. Muhyo would have been exhausted after using so much magic, and having Roji to take care of wouldn’t have helped.

“Hm…” Muhyo seemed to contemplate this, manoeuvring Roji into a more accessible position so that he could get started on the bandaging. “Guess I just didn’t want to.”

Up this close, Roji could see the purplish bruises beneath Muhyo’s eyes. It looked like Muhyo hadn’t had much sleep, himself.

“Why?” Roji asked, a sudden wave of shame overtaking him, even as Biko’s ointment did its job and began easing the pain. There was no need for Muhyo to watch over him at the office, not when Muhyo had already exerted his magic to the limit.

Now that he thought about it, Roji vaguely remembered glimpses of Muhyo’s worried face hovering over him every time he woke from a fitful sleep. 

Muhyo finished bandaging Roji’s wounds, tugging at the bandages to make sure they were secure. He hmphed softly at the look in Roji’s eyes.

“You never stop thinking and doubting, do you, Roji?” Muhyo asked, holding Roji’s gaze with a challenging glint in his eyes. Their faces were close --- close enough for Roji to feel Muhyo’s warm breath over his face. “Oi. Have you already forgotten the words that we spoke to each other when we were in your memories?”

As if I could forget, Roji thought. Even if he wasn't quite himself, the soft press of Muhyo’s mouth on his had been real. 

“That not everything has to be your fault. That you were going to stay by my side,” Muhyo recited, one hand pressed against Roji’s chest, “and so much more. Surely all of that meant something.”

Muhyo was so, so close. If Roji tilted his face and closed the distance, then…

DING DONG.

Roji jumped. He wasn’t the only one - Muhyo jerked away, almost kneeing Roji in the stomach.

“Pizza delivery. One pepperoni and one double cheese, for a Kusano Jiro!”

***

Several days later, Nana, Kenji, Yoichi, Biko, and some other members of MLS threw them a surprise party.

Roji should have known. Nana’s texting had been strangely cryptic, making various references to ‘secrets’, ‘good food’, and ‘happy times ahead’. Even Kenji had been curt and evasive when interrogated.

All this meant that Muhyo and Roji returned one evening after a small, easy case (Muhyo took great care in accepting manageable jobs that didn’t take too much of a toll on Roji’s body) to find their office decked in brightly-coloured balloons, neon streamers, and a disco ball hanging precariously from the ceiling. The couch and coffee table had been moved to one side, leaving everyone with room to sit. The scent of delicious food wafted through the office, and Roji soon discovered that a magnificent spread was laid out in the kitchen. There were fancy-looking Western canapes, Japanese-styled stir-fried tofu, shrimp and pork dumplings, spring rolls, and an assortment of colourful desserts.

A big “WELCOME HOME ROJI” sign with Yoichi’s awful handwriting was propped up against Muhyo’s desk, complete with signatures from various names that Roji recognised as people from MLS. It looked like Nana had attempted to brighten the sign up with glitter and felt pen, but the combination made the sign look like it had been churned through a defective toy-making factory.

Roji loved it.

“Guys…no way, really?” Roji asked, grinning in disbelief. 

Yoichi’s responding grin was mischievous. “I took the liberty of sending you two on that case just to make sure no one would be home. Knew Muhyo wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“…And I got everyone organised!” Nana cheered. It was a change, seeing her dressed in something other than her uniform. Her miniskirt fluttered as she hopped around, obviously pleased with herself.

Kenji groaned. “More like, yelled us into submission. She’s like a drill sergeant.”

“Wait, it was you?” Muhyo balked, pointing an accusing finger at Yoichi. Roji and Muhyo had received their job request as an anonymous letter, printed, unsigned, and roughly jammed under their door. “You sent us on this case?”

“Hey, it was a real case! Someone out there needed that help,” Yoichi said, holding his hands up in defence. Then his grin turned sly. “I just took the liberty of…setting you guys up, if you catch my drift.”

Muhyo twitched. “…The next time someone attacks MLS, I’ll leave you all to die.”

“Aw, so mean,” Yoichi said, though he didn’t look the least bit upset. “At least I’ll have the ever-lovely Nana to keep me company!”

Nana scoffed. “You keep your hands to yourself, Yoichi.”

Everyone made their way to the kitchen, grabbing all kinds of food to sample. Everyone had brought a plate of something to share, although some of it was restaurant-bought. Roji complimented Nana’s spring rolls, while Biko shyly listened as Kenji enthusiastically explained to her everything about his baseball achievements. Yoichi chatted with Muhyo, who had wondrously not exploded in anger at all the pink glitter that was coating the carpet (Roji wondered if they would ever be able to get rid of it all). The other judges (was that Judge Imai sporting a new hairdo?) mingled, seated in a huddle with plates of food balanced on their knees. Pop music thumped in the background, courtesy of a set of speakers that no doubt belonged to Kenji.

Everyone was in a good mood.

Roji couldn’t stop smiling. Having the company of his friends here, together…there was nothing more that he could ask for. Even Muhyo seemed at ease, even if it didn’t outwardly show.

“How are your injuries?” Nana asked. “Kenji and I heard that you were attacked at MLS last week…it must have been awful!”

So Nana and Kenji didn’t know the truth. That was probably for the best. He’d have to thank Yoichi and Biko for keeping Enchu’s involvement a secret. “They’re getting better,” Roji said, and at the very least that wasn’t a lie. Roji was strong enough to walk and run. The pain had also mostly faded, although sometimes he still felt the phantom ache right where the gash was.

“I see! That’s great to know.”

“Thanks for organising this, Nana,” Roji said gratefully, nodding at the food and decorations. “This was…really nice to come back to.”

Nana beamed. “But of course!” Then the kindness in her face morphed into the sly smirk that Yoichi often wore. Roji swore the two of them were spending far too much time together. “That’s not all we have in store for you and Muhyo, by the way.”

Roji couldn’t help but inch away. A sly Nana was one to be feared. “W…what do you mean?”

“I meaaaan, you and Muhyo. Yoichi told me that you guys were going out!”

“Wuh --- what --- ” Roji said, choking on his mouthful of spring rolls.

From across the room, Yoichi gave Roji a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

Nana looked confused. “What do you mean, ‘what’? I thought it wasn’t a secret.”

“Yes. No,” Roji babbled. He and Muhyo hadn’t finished whatever it was they were talking about last time before they were interrupted by the pizza delivery boy. There were several times where Muhyo looked like he was about to bring it up, but Roji was quick to change the conversation just because he wanted to. “I mean, Muhyo and I…we haven’t really discussed this yet. So while he, uh, knows how I feel, he hasn’t said anything about what he wants…and look,” he laughed nervously, “the time just isn’t right…”

The teenage girl rolled her eyes before saying, “oh my god, Roji. Yoichi was right. You and Muhyo are truly on another level of dense. The two of you do everything together --- ”

“Yes, Nana, but I’m his assistant,” Roji explained with exaggerated calm.

“ --- and everyone can see the way you look at each other. The connection between you and Muhyo…look, I can’t describe it, but it’s different. There’s a kind of intensity in it; the kind you won’t find in two people who just respect each other. Trust me on this, okay? Whatever this special bond is, I can sense it. So can Yoichi, but that’s because he’s known Muhyo far longer than any of us have, and would know when his best friend has feelings for someone else.”

Roji blinked. “…Okay…”

“I’m not done. Look, Muhyo’s not the kind of person who’d let others stay by his side if he didn’t want them there. The fact that you’re still here means that he wants you to be,” Nana said, “and really, you two just need to nip this in the bud and make things official, because watching the two of you dance around each other makes me suffer.”

The flaxen-haired boy laughed weakly. “I’m not sure Muhyo is the kind of person who ‘makes things official’.”

“Pft! What do you know?” Nana huffed. “Just watch. Yoichi and I have a secret weapon up our sleeves.” Then she sauntered off to Yoichi, leaving Roji standing in a corner with bewilderment.

It turned out that Nana and Yoichi’s secret weapon was, in fact, alcohol. Plenty of it. There were stockpiled bottles of wine, beer, and --- Roji paled --- a full bottle of crystal-clear vodka. It looked deathly. It looked dangerous. What was something like that doing here?

Kenji whooped. “Way to go, Nana! You’ve got some good stuff there!”

“Nana…” Roji said faintly, “we’re underage.”

Nana scoffed, holding up the bottle of vodka triumphantly. “A sneaky drink here and there never hurt anyone. Plenty of high school kids do it. I’ve done it myself.”

Roji’s protests felt weak and feeble. “But…the other Judges and members of MLS are here…”

“We’ve seen worse,” one Judge said.

Judge Imai shrugged. “Yeah, doesn’t bother us.”

“If you put her up to this, Yoichi, I swear to god…” Muhyo muttered, glaring at the alcohol like they were his sworn enemy.

Yoichi scratched his head nervously. “I may have aided and abetted by procuring the alcohol, but this was all her idea.”

Nana stuck her tongue out like a rebellious teenager.

Muhyo sighed. “Fine. Do whatever you want. We’re all already here, so what more can I do to stop this? Don’t blame me if you get a shitty hangover tomorrow morning.”

“Ooh,” Biko interrupted with childlike eagerness, “do you know that Muhyo can really hold his alcohol?” 

“Wait, he can?” Nana and Roji asked simultaneously, not knowing what to do with this newfound knowledge.

“Of course,” Yoichi said, sounding scandalised at what Roji and Nana were missing out on. “Muhyo gets invited to events, functions, parties and fundraisers by the MLS all the time.”

To prove Yoichi’s point, Biko shoved a shot of vodka under Muhyo’s nose. Sighing at the offer but looking resigned, the dark-haired Executor downed it without flinching. None of the other Judges reacted, clearly having seen something like this happen before.

Roji could only gape at the bizarre scene before him. Holy shit. This was a side of Muhyo he had never seen before.  

“There we go,” Nana crowed, “now the real party can finally start.”  

Heart thumping in excitement, Roji waited to see what drinks everyone was having. Muhyo popped open a bottle of red wine, pouring a generous amount into his glass. He still had that resigned, suffering expression on his face. Yoichi and Kenji were grabbing beers. Nana made herself a vodka mixer with copious amounts of orange juice. Biko turned away the alcohol, looking perfectly content with a glass of lemonade.

That left Roji to ponder over the confusing selection of alcohol on the table. He had no idea what to start with.

Then Muhyo, of all people, slid over a small plastic cup with clear liquid in it with a smirk on his face.

“Oh-ho, what do we have here?” Yoichi asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is the great Executor Tooru Muhyo looking to corrupt his innocent, delicate assistant?” 

“I’m not delicate!” Roji protested, picking the cup up and grimacing at the strong whiff of vodka.

Catching Roji’s expression, Muhyo rolled his eyes and said, “I was teasing you, idiot. You don’t have to drink that.”

Like hell he wouldn’t. Bracing himself, Roji shut his eyes and tipped the liquid back. The bitterness burned his throat, but quickly settled as a warm pit in his stomach. Well. That was nasty, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Roji stood triumphantly and basked in the glory of Nana and Kenji chanting his name.

Take that, Muhyo.

Muhyo looked…surprised. Then he grinned. “Trying to outdo me already, shitty assistant? You should take it easy. It’s your first time with alcohol, right?”

“It’s not so bad,” Roji said, nodding at his empty plastic cup. And truly, he felt good. A little warm in the face, but good. The non-assuming plastic cup seemed to nod back at him, as if giving Roji a mental high five.

Muhyo chortled in amusement. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“Anything else you want to try next?” Nana asked, waving a hand freely. “My mixer here isn’t too bad, if you want the kick of vodka without the taste.”

“Hmm.” Roji leaned over, trying to have a sip from her straw.

A bottle of beer was abruptly shoved under his nose. Roji almost went cross-eyed looking at it. “Beer,” Muhyo announced. “No more vodka for another fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, yes.” Nana backed away, holding one hand up in surrender. She shot Roji a look that said --- see, what did I tell you?

Beer, Roji decided, was more tolerable than vodka. He took small swigs, savouring the chatty atmosphere and the dimmed office lights. The disco ball looked less out of place this way, spinning slowly with the thumping music. If this was a party, then he definitely enjoyed it.

One drink turned into two, and two turned to three. Three drinks resulted in Roji being goaded into having another shot, dared again by Nana after Muhyo’s allocated fifteen minutes had passed. When she tried to goad Roji into having one more shot on top of the shot Roji just downed like a champ, Muhyo swiped the shot and downed it himself with an exasperated expression on his face.

“How charming,” Biko observed, trying not to laugh but obviously failing, “it’s like a prince coming to the rescue.”

Nana asked, “if Muhyo was a prince, then would Roji be the princess?”

“But it’s Roji who carries Muhyo the way a prince carries a princess. I say Muhyo’s the princess,” Yoichi argued.

The teenage girl looked unsatisfied. "Screw gender roles. They can both be princes!" 

"Or princesses," Yoichi agreed. 

Nana nodded. "Or they can, you know, just be Muhyo and Roji. The unbeatable duo." 

“What the hell are you guys even talking about?” Muhyo grumbled, swatting Nana and Yoichi over the head.

Roji laughed, the mental image too much to bear. The fuzziness that had been creeping up on Roji since he downed his first shot officially fogged over his mind, turning shapes into blurry blobs. He was having an incredible time. He felt warm, safe, and content. It was like…like…

“…a burrito,” Roji slurred, feeling his eyes slip shut, “like the burrito that I had a few daysss ago.”

Yoichi cackled. “Oh boy, here we go.”

Muhyo shot Yoichi a dirty look. “If he pukes, you’re cleaning up.” Then Muhyo strode into Roji’s view, stopping to kneel in front of his wilting assistant. “Oi, Roji. Get a hold of yourself.”

Roji stared at the blob that looked like Muhyo, and decided that the best option was to squish Muhyo against his chest. He needed Muhyo close to him. Right now.

Muhyo, surprisingly, didn’t put up a fight. He patted Roji’s back awkwardly, as if understanding Roji’s need for human contact.

“Roji looks like a tomato,” Nana whispered to Yoichi.

That, Roji definitely did. “C’mon,” Yoichi whispered back, “I think it’s time we end the party.”

“Eh, so soon?”

“We’ve done what we came here to do. Operation Get Muhyo and Roji Drunk So That They Can Be Closer is a success. I’ll ready the portals so that I can transport these people back to MLS. You and Kenji pack up the food.”

“…and the decorations?”

“We’ll leave them. I think they need a disco ball in the office. Really makes the place look festive, you know?”

Nana grinned. “I like the way you think, Judge Yoichi.”

“Likewise, fair and lovely Nana.”

Yoichi offered her his arm, and Nana huffed but took it anyway. The rest of the crowd dispersed through the portal Yoichi had created, giving their thank-yous and goodbyes to Muhyo.

When Roji next opened his eyes, the office was quieter, and the bass-thumping music had ceased. His eyes found the grandfather clock ticking not too far away. Eleven at night. That wasn’t too late, but he must have nodded off for about…half an hour. What an odd position he was in, all slumped against a wall and half-drooling down his chin. Where was Muhyo anyway? He needed Muhyo. He missed Muhyo.

“Muhyoooo,” Roji sang out, coming to the realisation that he was very, very drunk, “Muhyo, where are you?”

“Right in front of you, drunk assistant. You get incredibly clingy after a few drinks, don’t you?” And Muhyo was indeed right in front of Roji --- in Roji’s arms, to be exact. Roji should have been embarrassed, but the alcohol was working its wonders. Right now, Muhyo was swaddled protectively in his arms, and Roji couldn’t care about anything else. “Well,” Muhyo continued, “not like I mind. You’ve been funny to watch all night.”

“…'M not funny.”

“You are. I think that Nana girl took some photos. I’m sure you’d like to see them once you’re sober.”

“Hmmmprh.”

Muhyo gave a short bark of laughter. “Was that even a word?”

“You sound nice, when you laugh,” Roji murmured, all filters escaping his mind. “Do it more.”

“Huh. You’re also very honest when you’re drunk. I think I’m beginning to understand why Nana and Yoichi set this all up.”

“I’m alwaysss honest, Muhyo.”

Muhyo tutted. “Not as honest and open as you could be with me, silly assistant.”

Roji reached out, fingers curling into Muhyo’s robes. “…I just don’t wanna worry you. You know, that question you asked me a few days ago, about whether I remember the things that we said to each other when Enchu attacked…”

“I knew you remembered,” Muhyo murmured. “I just wanted you to reflect on it a little more.”

“Reflect?”

“Yeah. I know what we need to talk about, Roji. I’m just not sure if you do.”   

Even drunk Roji knew this was something he didn’t want to discuss, so he rested his head on top of Muhyo’s and chose to marvel at the softness that was Muhyo’s hair and the heavenly smell that was Muhyo’s shampoo. “Hmm.” A loud yawn escaped Roji’s lips. “I’m tired. Why am I so tired, Muhyo?”

If Roji didn’t know better, he’d say that Muhyo’s answering sigh was almost disappointed. “Alright. You know what, I’m putting you to bed. Let’s get you some water. Then you can brush your teeth and sleep.”

By the time Roji staggered to his bed, Muhyo was reaching into the closet and pulling out a pair of Roji’s pyjamas. He tossed them to Roji, who clumsily caught it.

“Here. Get changed. You’ll be uncomfortable if you slept in your jeans.”

“Uh-huh.” With the grace of a bumbling elephant, Roji managed to peel his clothes off. The sight of bandages wrapped around his torso caught his eyes. “Can these come off?”

Muhyo hummed. “Probably, but let’s check to make sure.”

“Uhhhh,” Roji said, because that was all the elegance he could muster before Muhyo swooped in to remove Roji’s bandages with Executor-like efficiency.

What remained of the wound was a puckered scar, raised above his skin in faint pink. Muhyo lightly ran his fingers over the scar, and Roji shuddered.

“…Sorry,” Muhyo muttered, moving his hand away. “Does it still hurt?”

“No, no, not when you touch it. Sometimes it does, when I think about it…or when I wake up at night.”

Muhyo raised an eyebrow. “Has it been waking you up at night?”

“Dreams, sometimes…nothing too serious.” Really, alcohol made Roji far more receptive to Muhyo’s questioning than usual.

“Huh. Alright.” Muhyo looked contemplative, but didn’t question further. Putting the bandages away, he said, “in that case, let’s do this.”

“Do what?” Roji slurred.

Muhyo clambered into Roji’s modestly-sized king single bed, patting the empty spot next to him. “This. Get in, drunk assistant.”

Roji had to take a few experimental blinks to check that he wasn’t hallucinating. Even his alcohol-fuelled state realised a life-changing situation when he saw it. Muhyo almost never slept on anyone else’s bed other than his own if he could help it. Oh, well. He wasn't going to complain. 

It was a bit of a tight fit, but Muhyo’s small size meant that Roji still had plenty of room to move. He pulled the covers up, double-checking to make sure he wasn’t smothering Muhyo with them. They weren’t touching, but Muhyo was close enough that Roji could feel his warmth.

“Goodnight, Muhyo,” Roji whispered, unable to stay awake to hear if Muhyo said it back.

***

When Roji had nightmares, he truly had the worst of them. They never came often, but being possessed and brainwashed by Enchu ignited the scared, terrified part of Roji whenever he was asleep. Roji tried to train his brain into recognising what nightmares were; what was real and what wasn’t. On most times it worked, and Roji was able to startle himself into wakefulness before he woke up with a scream lodged in his throat.

Tonight, Roji felt the phantom dregs of dark magic wash over him again. Except this time, there was no one to stop him. 

Roji watched with wide eyes as the demon plunged its talons into Muhyo, spraying bright red all over the muddy ground. Muhyo tipped backwards, eyes rolled to the dark sky, hands dropping the magic encyclopedia that he no longer had the strength to hold.

The rain fell in a ceaseless, mocking rhythm as the light in Muhyo’s eyes began to fade. Roji couldn’t move a muscle, even as Enchu stood next to him and doubled over in laughter.

“You killed him,” Enchu giggled, throwing his hands up in the air, “you did it, Roji! You killed him! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Yoichi and Biko were screaming their throats raw, their faces contorted in anguish. Nana stared up at Roji with horror in her eyes, her camera snapping photo after photo to witness this crime. Rio stood to one side, looking pale but resigned. 

Magic in its evilest, most forbidden form slithered over Roji and crawled under his skin --- right up to his neck, where something alive and monstrous pulsated and took shape.

Wrong, wrong, wrong! None of this should have been happening. This wasn't right. Roji should have been safe. Roji should have been able to protect Muhyo. Why couldn't he scream? Why couldn't he move? 

And Muhyo was dead. Gone forever, a light never to return.

There was no one who could save the world now, much less save him. Roji knew he would forever be haunted by this despair, his mind eroded by the knowledge that he had murdered the person he cared the most with his own hands.

 “Aren’t you glad that Muhyo will never be around to bother you again? We can work together, Roji. Think about how amazing of a team we will be!”

No, Muhyo --- he only ever wanted to be Muhyo’s partner ---

“Roji…”

 Maybe Enchu was right. Maybe there was really nothing else left for him but ---

--- Why

  --- Why

    Why ---

       ---

Why was it so hard to remain by Muhyo’s side?

“Oi, Roji!”

The stinging sensation on his cheek made Roji suck in a deep breath, and realise that all the screaming he heard had been his. Roji's fingers had been digging and clenching like claws into the scar Enchu left, the sharp pain lancing alongside the racing of his heart.

And oh, how his throat burned from all the screaming. Roji coughed and hiccupped as awareness returned --- only to come face to face with one of Muhyo's most concerned expressions that Roji had ever seen. The Executor had a hand out, as if unsure whether he should strike Roji across the face again or not.

“Good,” Muhyo breathed, “you’re awake. What on earth was that?”

Oh. Oh.

“My bad,” Roji rasped. Using his voice felt difficult. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s…fine,” Muhyo said slowly. “I’m here because I wanted to keep an eye on you. I thought if I stayed, then you wouldn’t be alone if something kept you up. And I’m glad I did. Nightmare?”

Trembling, Roji nodded.

Muhyo leaned over to turn on the small, ornate lamp that Roji had by the bed. Dim orange filled the room, casting shadows over the Executor’s face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Roji opened his mouth to say something, but faltered. He wasn’t sure how he would even begin. He didn’t know how Muhyo would react if he told the truth.

“I know it’s about me,” Muhyo pressed, ignoring Roji’s flinch. “You were screaming my name.”

Roji pressed into his scar. He had no idea why it hurt so badly tonight, more so than the past few nights. “…Oh.”

“Stop that. You don’t want to do anything that’d give you an infection.” Muhyo’s hand grabbed at Roji’s, not strong enough to hurt but with the kind of firmness you’d use to stop a misbehaving child. “It was Enchu, wasn’t it? You were having a flashback to that day.”

“…Except that you really died this time,” Roji said, the words echoing too loudly amidst his laboured breathing. The fear made him want to be a little more honest, and the sensation of Muhyo’s palm --- warm and gentle against his sweat-soaked one --- was firm and grounding. “You died, and it felt like…a part of me died inside too. Losing you…it was so, so scary. I was terrified. I killed you with my own hands, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Enchu just stood by and laughed. Said I would work well as his partner.”

A sigh, then the sound of rustling sheets as Muhyo brought his free hand to poke at Roji’s cheek. “Silly assistant. As if I’d go around dying so easily. It’d take more than a two-rate clerk, even with dark magic, to take me down. The reason that Enchu’s trying so hard is because he knows just how good I am. Now, I’m not saying that I’m immortal, because no one ever is. But…” Muhyo said, all traces of sleepiness gone from his face. “…Don’t you think that you should have a little more faith? Ideally I’d like you to have more faith in yourself, but if not, then at least believe in me a little more.”

“I've never doubted your abilities, Muhyo.”

Muhyo snorted. “That’s not what quite I meant. What I meant was that you should always have faith in my willingness to bring you back home. That’s the one thing you don’t quite believe in, don’t you? You don’t think I’d save you, if you lose control again like that.”

Roji looked away, biting his lip.

“And that’s not the full story,” Muhyo said, a strange look crossing his face. “I’ve been thinking about this for the past few days. Your reluctance to take care of yourself, your unwillingness to rely on others…you don’t see yourself as someone worthy of attention or care, especially when it comes to me. Why is that?”

There was nothing Roji could say to that. He didn't think it was possible to answer a question he had no answer to. 

Muhyo seemed to understand Roji’s silence, because he asked, “Roji, have I ever lied to you?”

Roji blinked at the abrupt question. “No.”

“Exactly. I don’t lie, because I always mean precisely what I say. So every word I’ve ever said to you, every single thing I told you while we were in your memories --- I meant every bit of it. When I said that I wouldn’t let something like this happen again, I was making a promise to you,” Muhyo pointed at Roji, “and myself.”

“I believe you,” Roji said automatically.

Muhyo nodded. “I know you do. But you find it difficult to believe in yourself. You can't see how much I value you. You don’t think you deserve nice things. And because of that, you fear that I would leave and never come back for you --- even when the rational part of you knows I would never do that.”

“So you’re saying…” Roji said, eyes squinting in confusion, “that I’m being irrational?”

“No, Roji. Your feelings are valid, and they always will be. What I wanted to do was to acknowledge them, and have you realise that.” At this, Muhyo reached up to ruffle Roji’s hair. “It’s something I’d like to do more, if you allowed me.”

“Acknowledging feelings?”

“Yeah.” Muhyo’s expression was bitter, almost haunted.

Heart no longer racing from adrenaline, Roji flopped back onto the bed and gently tugged at Muhyo to do the same. “You’re thinking about Enchu.”

“I didn’t acknowledge his anger,” Muhyo admitted, voice so low that Roji had to lean forward to catch everything the dark-haired Executor said. “He was distrustful. He was scared. He yearned for so much, and broke when the whole world refused to look at him the way it acknowledged me. It was my fault for not realising sooner. For all the brilliance I had, I didn’t have the strength to see --- or stop --- what definitely was something I had the power to put an end to.”

“Neither did Yoichi,” Roji whispered, his heart aching, “neither did Biko. Neither did the other Executors, even Executor Page. It wasn’t your fault, Muhyo.”

Muhyo snickered. “Well, what would you know? It seems like we’re quite similar after all. Look at how we’re practically giving each other the same advice.”

Then the both of them were laughing, their voices echoing softly in the depths of the night.

“Oi, Roji. Do you remember what else I said I wanted, when we were in your memories?” Muhyo had turned so that he was face down on the pillows, his words muffled.

Something that Muhyo wanted? Huh. Roji paused to think for a long moment, mind sifting through the words that Muhyo had spoken back in the pouring rain. 

Then it hit him.

“If I’m going to kiss you again, I’d also prefer that I do it under less stressful circumstances.”

The both of them on the couch, faces so close that they were almost touching, Muhyo’s hand on Roji’s bandaged chest.

Roji smiled softly, wondering why it took them so long to finally get to this. “Yeah. I want the same thing, too.”

“Hmph.” Only Muhyo had the ability to mask his embarrassment with irritation. He peeked up, blue eyes darting around almost nervously. Roji thought it was the most endearing thing he had ever seen. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Sorry to have kept you waiting. A good assistant should always know what their Executor needs,” Roji said, cupping Muhyo’s face with his hands before leaning in.

It wasn’t quite like Nana’s romance mangas. There were no erupting fireworks, no dazzling cherry blossoms, and no summer festivals and yukatas. Roji’s pyjamas were damp with sweat, and Muhyo still smelled a little like alcohol and fried tofu. Both of their lips were dry, Roji’s no doubt a little chapped from all the biting. But Roji was winding his hands around the small of Muhyo’s back, and Muhyo had moved to sit on Roji’s lap. The kiss was soft, warm, and peaceful.

It carried an understanding that only the two of them could have, and a solemn promise. 

They parted almost too quickly, and Muhyo smirked. “Well, I guess you’re not too bad of an assistant then.”

“I’ll get better before you know it,” Roji said, pleased to see the humour dancing in Muhyo’s eyes.

Muhyo scoffed. “A two-rate clerk trying to outdo me? Not happening.” Then his expression transformed into something gentler, something less mischievous. “But you’re good enough for me, anyway. I don’t need any other assistant but you.”

Coming from Muhyo, that was nothing short of a declaration of love. Roji’s heart soared, fluttering like a bird in a cage. Their words faded into silence, and Roji was beginning to doze off when Muhyo said, “you know what would be good? A vacation.”

Roji stirred. “A…what?”

“A vacation,” Muhyo repeated. “It’s what people do when they leave their homes and go away for a while to see new things and people. For fun.” 

“I know what a vacation is,” Roji said blankly. “What I don’t understand is why we’d need one.”

Muhyo yawned. “You need to heal from Enchu’s attack. Being in this office or the MLS isn’t the best place to do that. And I’m tired. I don’t want to see paperwork for at least another week.”

“But a vacation,” Roji protested, even as the boyish part in him whooped and cheered at the idea of having a break. “Where would we go to? Do we even have that kind of money?”

“It depends. Where would you like to go to, Roji? I know I’d prefer seeing some other places outside of Japan. I’ve done enough jobs all over the country, so I’m feeling adventurous.”

A trip overseas? Now they definitely didn’t have the money for that.

“Come on,” Muhyo wheedled. “What are some places you’ve always wanted to see?”

“I mean...this is unbelievable,” Roji said, shaking his head. Maybe he was hallucinating. The clock next to their bed said it was five in the morning, so maybe he would wake up tomorrow and find that everything had been just a dream. “I didn’t think we’d end the night with a decision to take a vacation.”

Muhyo merely shrugged, looking unperturbed. "What can I say? I can’t let my assistant outdo me, after all.”