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Geiz had never known hesitation until he met Sougo.
It was honestly ridiculous, he thought. The guy would one day become the one who burned everything, who killed all the people he knew, who ruled so arrogantly and cruelly. It wasn’t as if he had forgotten his goal—every day, it was a constant in his mind: defeat Zi-O, take Zi-O out, and keep your eyes on Zi-O.
He didn’t understand this Zi-O at all. Geiz watched him closely, every hitch of his breath, every word from his lips, every shift of his eyes. Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, and Geiz still could not grasp the kind of person this young Zi-O was.
Zi-O would sometimes say things and do things that did not add up to how he would become later in life. Beyond a doubt, it confused Geiz, made him waver and doubt his goal. Admitting it aloud felt strange—not exactly much defeat, yet it was absolutely not relief, either. Perhaps, he would not become the evil overlord they knew.
(I do believe, Geiz. In you, and Tsukuyomi. That’s why I’m going to fight!
Geiz could still feel the warmth from his hands, even now, months later.)
It was harder to deal with the way this cheerful, eccentric guy would look at him, sometimes.
Geiz desperately tried not to think about it, but more often than not, it would slip through the defenses in the back of his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he would catch Zi-O staring at him, wide eyed, his expression soft, his eyes full of something Geiz couldn’t quite place. Usually, Geiz would ignore it—there was nothing between them—they fought together, is all. Comrades, if the word could even apply.
That was how it was.
But, sometimes…Geiz would glance back at him without thinking of the consequences.
His stomach would flip, his eyes would widen without his permission and a fire would burn, bright and scorching, at the back of his throat.
(Am I imagining the hesitation I see in you?
Geiz hadn’t understood—no, that is a lie. He did, terribly so, but wasn’t ready to admit it. Yet, he still said, My… hesitation…? as if he was completely clueless.
Of course, the strange guy he met in Helheim saw right through him.
Later, he had heard from Tsukuyomi that Zi-O from the three days future time had let the Ride Watch go for his sake. Geiz then found himself at the store, packaged chicken in his basket and then, his feet had guided him back to 9 to 5.)
It continued relentlessly. Geiz began wondering if the whole universe was laughing at him—if all this had been a ploy for whatever deities out there to poke fun and laugh at him.
(You’re trying to save the little overlord, and this is all you’ve got?!
That Decade guy sure knew how to press buttons.
Zi-O’s embarrassing words made it worse—how could he have said something so nonchalant in front of everyone, including people they barely knew?
Thanks for going back to fight for me, Geiz, Zi-O said, his eyes bright.
Geiz had told him to not be an idiot, that it wasn’t for his sake.
Zi-O smiled, sheepish yet no less blinding, dimples and all. Sure, he said, if you say so.)
Geiz felt his resolve shake.
With a hand on Zi-O’s bicep, he willed his voice not to shake as he says, “Today, we’re ending this.”
The younger Zi-O against him bubbled with laughter. “That sounds dangerous…” he murmurs, voice still rough with sleep. Geiz felt his stomach drop and his thoughts turned to mush. “Didn’t you help save me the other day?”
Words tumbled quickly from his lips, unwilling to come to a halt. “The situation has changed. We’ve got that pink weirdo to deal with. Before he has the chance to finish you…” you…? “I have to…” what?
Zi-O turns his head, dangerously close—enough to the point where Geiz feels the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Zi-O’s breath hits his face, his warmth seeps into his chest, his hair tickles at Geiz’ nose. “Have to what?”
He comes to find that he doesn’t know, or maybe he does but he just simply cannot find the right words, but it was clear that desperation was there. Geiz furrows his brows as he turns Zi-O around, sliding his hands down to grip at Zi-O’s elbows. His voice is softer than it has ever been. “It’s not too late.” Geiz takes a step forward, forcing the boy in front of him backwards; he blinks rapidly a few times, and comes to find that he doesn’t want to know what expression he has on his face. “Get rid of the belt! Then, you won’t become Oma Zi-O.”
Was that truly his only excuse?
Zi-O smiles at him, always too bright. He coaxes Geiz’ touch away and in return, Zi-O settles his own hands on Geiz’ forearms. “I can’t do that.”
Was that the feeling of the world crumbling?
***
“I need to face what I’ve become.”
Tsukuyomi tilts her head, eyes wide with questions.
He turns to her and can tell he, too, has his own questions in his eyes. “There’s no way he could be a despicable overlord… that is what I told myself.” Over and over, his resolve slowly changed, enough to the point where Geiz enjoyed being next to Zi-O. Geiz narrows his eyes and tries to push away all thoughts. “I was being… so soft. I need to go back to being a soldier.”
And yet, his heart pounded profusely in his ears.
Was that truly what he meant?
Was this now his resolve?
Geiz bites the insides of his cheeks and tastes iron. He doesn’t see the way Tsukuyomi looks at him.
*
Countless times, Geiz had seen firsthand Zi-O’s kindness; but sometimes, Geiz thinks that Zi-O’s kindness could often be something more of stupidity than not.
He stumbles toward Zi-O, belt in hand. There is no hesitation in his choice, which would have shocked him months ago. Geiz offers up his belt, his resolve solid. “Here. Take this.”
Zi-O looks at it as if it’s a nightmare in disguise, his eyebrows drawn together and his eyes full of hesitation and fear. Geiz wants nothing more than to wipe the look off the guys face, because this person in front of him was surely only meant to smile and laugh. Zi-O finally looks away, breath coming out quick.
Geiz takes another step forward, angry. “Are you going to let them get away with this?”
“But—“ Zi-O stumbles through his words, voice cracking in odd places. It hurts something, deep inside Geiz, but he shoves it aside in favor of watching the way Zi-O’s lips form every word. “If I take that… I’ll become Oma Zi-O…”
He can’t take it anymore. Geiz rushes forward, hands curling around Zi-O’s forearms as he forces Zi-O backwards. “I thought you were going to be a good overlord?!” Geiz reminds him desperately, lifting the belt and pressing it to Zi-O’s chest.
Was this just an excuse to touch him?
That train of thought is dangerous, and so he pushes it aside.
Zi-O looks up at him with wide eyes, and Geiz tries not to watch as droplets of water slides down the side of his face. This moment would surely wreck him.
“If that’s true, then we’re good,” Geiz tells him, yet he finds that his words held nothing for Zi-O. He watches the guy in front of him blink rapidly, and then suddenly, Geiz is on the ground, water splashing everywhere, pain running down the arm he fell on.
“I can’t!”
Geiz lifts himself hurriedly, his mind only focused on one thing. “If you turn out to be evil after all—!” He grabs a fistful of Zi-O’s shirt in his hand, slamming him against the wall. Geiz can see the shock in Zi-O’s eyes, and maybe the sight and feel of him would stay with him for the next hundred years, and maybe he would think about it when he absolutely shouldn’t, but—“I’ll take you out. I’ll kill you myself. I promise.”
This close, with the back of his hand curled against Zi-O’s chest, Geiz can feel the rapid beat of his heart.
“Trust me.”
***
Geiz comes to find that feelings are difficult.
It stings, the way he has to turn his back on this younger, brighter Zi-O, but the stronger the guy becomes, the more Geiz feels pressure, the more Tsukuyomi wavers.
If you dig too deep into this, you might run into Sougo.
That didn’t sound like a terrible idea, honestly.
Can I trust you to defeat Zi-O?
His hesitation to answer was more of an answer than the actual response that left his lips. Or, maybe it was the fact Geiz could not awaken the power of Geiz Revive. Although it responds to his will eventually, something about it still felt off.
It looks as though you have developed a fondness for my overlord.
Geiz tries not to think about Black Woz’ words.
*
Stumbling to the Saturn Parking lot was truly one of the most idiotic things he’s ever done—his whole body hurt, his heart felt heavy, and he wasn’t certain if he wanted to do this or not, but knew he ultimately had to. Geiz lets himself fall to the ground, the scent of blood filling up his nostrils, the uncomfortable feeling of it dry and flaky too close to his eyes for comfort.
Zi-O wasn’t there.
A short, huff of laughter that wasn’t really laughter escapes him. “I figured as much,” he says to no one, and yet—footsteps become his answer. The sudden burst of energy allows him to push himself up and off the ground, stumbling to the sound of shuffling footsteps.
Zi-O limps toward their promised, arranged battlefield.
Geiz crashes into the chain link fence, almost wishing he had hurdled over it and collided with the other.
“Geiz…” Zi-O looks over to him, a smile tugging the corners of his lips upward. He strides forward messily, and Geiz makes the effort to meet him halfway. “Guess I’m late, huh?”
Using the chain link fence as a crutch, the two of them try to make their way to each other. There is something strangely, stupidly poetic about it—the fence, their need for it as a crutch, the emotion bubbling in Geiz’ chest, the emotion he hopes is scorching hot in Zi-O’s own.
“You’re beat to hell, Zi-O.”
“So are you.”
Hopefulness erupts in the pit of his stomach, warming his entire body although the snow danced downward and blanketed the ground, although the wind whistled past and chilled one to the bone. “Why did you… even bother showing up, in that state?”
“I had to,” Zi-O tells him, his smile so soft and innocent, open and bright, enough to the point where Geiz feels wrong just to witness it. “A promise is a promise,” he says it so simple, as if it were a universal rule. Geiz watches as Zi-O walks without a crutch, every grimace of pain on his face, every heavy step. “Besides… with the way things are…” Zi-O comes to a stop, eyes focused on the winter sky. “This was the only way I could see you.”
Geiz’s stomach drops. “What?”
Zi-O turns to him, his face cut and oddly colored due to an upcoming bruise, but Geiz cannot help but think he looks breathtaking. Zi-O’s eyes are clear, and his smile is so welcoming. “Before… I met you and Tsukuyomi, you know… I didn’t really ever have any friends.”
“Don’t be stupid!” Geiz growls, stomach dropping further. This was dangerous territory—the talk of how they think of each other, how Geiz thinks of Tokiwa Sougo. Heat bubbles up in his chest, engulfing his heart. Geiz chooses to say cruel words. He steps forward and grabs a fistful of Zi-O’s shirt. “We aren’t friends! We are about to have our final battle!”
Zi-O’s smile is still there. He does what he often does, smiling a sheepish smile and humming, mm. “That’s fine.” He wraps his fingers around Geiz’ wrist, gentle and warm, despite the cold. “Remember what I told you?”
But, if I choose the wrong path, and it looks like I will become Oma Zi-O… I want you to take me down. I trust your judgment, both of you.
“I trusted you back then,” he says, but there is this underlying meaning here that Geiz cannot quite place. Sougo looks up at the one in front of him—his narrowed eyes, the dried trail of blood running down the side of his nose, and can’t help the impulse that tells him, wipe away the blood. His fingers twitch, but he is able to stop them from moving further. “I knew… you could take me down.”
Geiz pushes him away gently while Zi-O—Sougo—looks at him with resolve.
“You’re convinced now, right?” Sougo asks.
Geiz hesitates—of course he does. He stares blankly into space, can feel his eyes move out of their own accord, his brain coming up empty. All his resolve, all of the anger that he had tried not to let turn into something softer, ultimately softens, quicker than little caramel drops dropped into a pan.
Feelings are difficult.
(He can see, so clearly, the unwavering trust in Sougo’s eyes.)
Choices are just as horrible.
(He does not wish to fight, having long grown tired of it. Instead of connecting a fist to his face, Geiz finds that he wishes to collide…)
The warmth he feels so deeply embedded in his chest gradually, slowly, oh so steadily, blooms, until it is no longer deniable.
“I…”
The two of them wait for the hesitation to dissipate until it’s too late.
Another Zi-O barges in, haughty and raging with murderous intent.
Sougo goes falling backward, rolling into the snow.
“You can stand back and wait,” Kakogawa tells him. “I will kill him, right here and now!”
It all happens so fast—Geiz is barely able to keep up with Kakogawa’s movements as well as his own. One second, Another Zi-O is rushing forward, picking Sougo up from the ground by his collar, forcing him to his feet before bringing his fist back, and that would surely break Sougo’s nose, or a cheekbone, something, if all he does is stand there and do nothing, and—
Geiz wraps his arms around Another Zi-O’s, putting all his weight on the arm.
“What is this?”
“Don’t touch him!” Geiz grits out.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sougo’s head pop back up.
“He is your enemy. He’s going to become an overlord!”
“Zi-O? Become the overlord?” Geiz scoffs, suddenly lifted from all his doubts and hesitation. “There’s no way that’ll happen! He—he is… the kindest… most—trustworthy person I have ever known!” Here, the butterflies that he had denied for so long begin to flutter profusely, his ears burn, and he hopes to whatever deities are out there that the guy behind him, the one he is protecting, can’t tell the difference. “He’s my friend!”
The term did not hold the amount of emotion he felt, nor was it what he wanted to say, but for now Geiz supposes it’ll do.
In the end, they defeat their enemy but do not make it to their final battle, laughing it off as Tsukuyomi rushes frantically to stop them.
Instead, they make their way back home.
Geiz had been hesitant, at first—going back to 9 to 5, as if it was all already so deep in the past… yet, when Sougo told him, I want you to move back in, Geiz couldn’t find it in him to decline.
They are welcomed back with open arms and promises of a feast—especially with the addition of Black Woz, Junichirou was sure to cover the table. Sougo is over the moon, chanting sukiyaki, sukiyaki! as he makes his way to the kitchen. It’s then, when Sougo is out of earshot, that Geiz turns to Tsukuyomi and vows that they would change the future, that they wouldn’t allow the guy who resembles the sun to become some evil overlord who was despised by everyone.
Tsukuyomi looks at him and nods, but there is this strange, knowing look in her eye that Geiz chooses to look over, for now.
*
It’s when Junichirou suddenly hushes everyone gathered around the table that the festivities end. The three from the future turn to where he’s staring, and ultimately understand.
Sougo lays on the little daybed in the corner of the dining area, his eyes closed as his breaths begin to gradually even out. It’s something… serene, and strange, yet the sight makes Geiz’ heart tug. Woz tiptoes out first, sending pleasant dreams toward his Overlord’s way with Tsukuyomi following behind, hushing him, and Junichirou chuckling behind them, mumbling about how humorous Sougo’s friends were.
Geiz lingers behind, and surprisingly, no one takes a second glance.
He thinks about the reason behind it for split second until it becomes too embarrassing for him to handle, opting to push it from his thoughts. Instead, Geiz sets his elbow against the table and rests his jaw in his palm, eyes skimming over Sougo.
He looked… quite peaceful. Upon that revelation, it is even more shocking to see fresh blood seeping into the fabric of Sougo’s shirt. Geiz jerks upright, eyes wide as he begins to say, “So—!” only to clamp his mouth shut. After all this time, of only cruelly referring to the boy made of rays of light and sunflowers as Zi-O, how could he so casually call his name? Geiz can feel his heartbeat in his ears, the course of his previous actions all too fresh in his mind.
Geiz knows how he had been—up and down, a comrade and then an enemy, yet a particular emotion stirred nonetheless, leaving him hesitant and confused. He knew, all too well, what the butterflies stampeding against his chest meant, and what the dryness in the back of his throat signified when Sougo stood too close, or looked at him for too long.
“Idiot,” he tells himself, and then walks the few steps it takes to stand in front of Sougo. Geiz hovers there for a moment until he finally lays his hand on Sougo’s knee and shakes it, muttering, “Hey, Zi-O.” When he gets no response from the other boy, Geiz narrows his eyes, an irritable sigh leaving him before leaning forward, his hand outstretched to pat at Sougo’s cheek, and it is then, when his hand is mere centimeters from touching Sougo, that the guy opens his eyes.
“Ah.”
“Geiz?” Sougo mumbles sleepily.
It is enough to make him want to curse. Geiz quickly retracts his hand, only to raise it again hesitantly, index finger pointed to the blood seeping through Sougo’s shirt. “You… you’re hurt.”
Sougo startles, blinking rapidly and then cringing once the pain in his shoulder hits. He laughs as if it were nothing though, much like always. “Oops… I could have sworn I patched it up pretty well earlier, too…”
So that’s… Geiz thinks, recalling when Sougo had excused himself shortly after excitedly chanting about the sukiyaki they were promised. He remembers how odd his smile seemed and how he deliberately stood with his shoulder away from them, and Geiz definitely wants to curse now, because he had not connected the dots.
Geiz isn’t sure where the words come from, but as, “You want me… to help you, Zi-O?” leaves his mouth, he most certainly starts to internally curse himself.
Idiot. Big damn idiot. Stupid, why did you say something so damn stupid?
Yet, Geiz does not receive the denial he thought he’d get.
“You are offering to help me?” Sougo hums mischievously, and if it wasn’t for how Geiz’ eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, he probably would have missed the smirk curving Sougo’s lips.
“I can always take it back,” Geiz tells him with a scoff.
“You definitely won’t, because I accept! Now you absolutely can’t take it back!” Sougo declares proudly, scrambling backward to make room for Geiz to sit. Geiz rolls his eyes with very little ill-intent as he turns on his heel, fishing the first-aid kit from a cabinet in the kitchen, and comes to find that it is difficult, making his way back to sit beside Sougo.
Geiz tries not to watch too closely as Sougo unbuttons his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders and letting it fall somewhere on the floor to his right as he tears off the poorly taped gauze on the tender place where his shoulder and collarbone meet. He focuses on opening the first-aid kid, laying the gauze and medical tape in his lap and keeping the cotton ball and antiseptic in his hand. He absolutely does not want to look up, because seeing Sougo from the corner of his eye is enough, but Geiz reminds himself that he is an idiot, and he is the one that offered.
As he tilts the tiny bottle of antiseptic to a cotton ball, the thought comes back to him once more, that perhaps this was just an excuse to touch Sougo.
Which, in all honesty—
“Geiz? Is something wrong?”
“No,” he says immediately, and finally lifts his head. Geiz finds that looking at Sougo’s bare torso wasn’t as nerve wracking as the thought of extending his hands and touching him. “Nothing’s wrong,” Geiz tells himself more than Sougo, and forces away all his nervousness as he scoots closer. “This, uh, might sting, okay?”
Sougo nods with a smile that is almost blinding. “Mm.”
Geiz extends a hand, resting his palm against Sougo’s bicep before bringing his other hand closer, swiping the cotton ball gently against the gash on his skin. Sougo sucks in a breath, one that definitely goes straight through Geiz, and he shakes his head, gritting out, “Told you it would sting, Zi-O,” as he cleans the wound a bit more.
Sougo laughs, carefree and boyish, much like how he should always laugh. “I know,” he sighs, then shrugs with his unharmed shoulder. “Guess I just…wasn’t as prepared as I thought.”
His tone sounds teasing. Geiz struggles to not search for an underlying meaning as he tosses the bloodied cotton ball into the trash bin behind him. He keeps his gaze down, focusing on cutting the gauze to cover Sougo’s wound, and it is then that Sougo catches Geiz off guard.
“Say, why don’t you ever call me by my name?”
Geiz freezes for a millisecond before recovering quickly, dropping the tiny pair of scissors back into the first-aid kid. He takes his time, deliberate in the way he closes the kit, placing it on the tiny table in front of them. It is then he has no other choice but answer. “You… are Zi-O,” Geiz says, quite lamely.
Sougo laughs softly and then hums. “Well, sure, but aren’t I also Sougo?”
Geiz lifts his hands, applying more pressure than he ought to when he sets the section of gauze on the cut, and it makes his stomach twist in knots, the way Sougo doesn’t even cringe backward. Is this a challenge, his mind sparks up the thought, and Geiz has to quickly stomp it down.
“You… are,” Geiz agrees carefully. He tears off medical tape from the roll with his teeth, keeping his eyes focused on his task. Gentler than before, he smoothes the tape over the edges of the gauze, securing it over Sougo’s wound.
“I wonder if I should give you an order, as King…”
“What?”
“To me, you are Geiz,” Sougo tells him honestly, his eyes wide as he holds Geiz’ stare. “To you, I would also… like to be… Sougo.”
“That’s—“
“It’s fine though, you know?” Sougo interrupts him, once again catching Geiz off guard. “I know why… you’ve done what you’ve done, and it’s fine.” Here, Sougo laughs, leaning forward, as if the closer he got, the quicker his words would make it through the process of Geiz’ mind. “The fact you are here beside me, patching me up, is proof, don’t you think?”
“I…”
I have to…
The rest comes to him suddenly, knocking the breath out of him, leaving him too see stars.
…connect.
Geiz looks away only to look right back up again. He takes in the brightness of Sougo’s eyes, the upward curl of his lips, and the gentleness of his expression. Surely, such a soft person could not wholly accept him for all he’s done, but—Geiz recalls how, over and over, the boy beside him had accepted him, again and again.
It’s soft, the first time he says the other’s name, but it tumbles off his tongue steadily, nonetheless. “S…ougo.”
“Yeah?”
“Sougo…”
“Yes?”
“You—uh—“
Sougo leans forward and bumps his forehead against Geiz’ temple. “Geiz.”
He has millions of things to say on his tongue, but with Sougo’s warmth seeping in through his clothes, Geiz can’t find it in himself to disrupt the tranquility he feels. They stay like that for a while—the clock on the wall ticks and ticks, but time seems to stand still as they lean against each other, their breaths surprisingly shallow. It is when Sougo extends a hand and grazes his fingertips against the back of Geiz’ hand that the silence around them is broken.
“Do you… know what I’m trying to say?”
Geiz bites the insides of his cheeks so abruptly that he could have sworn he’d broken skin. “I…” he inhales deeply, hating the hesitation he still felt, in the pit of his stomach. Instead of words, Geiz flips his hand over, palm-up.
“Geiz?”
He adjusts his hand accordingly, coaxing Sougo’s fingers to fan out before slotting his fingers between Sougo’s own.
“I… know,” Geiz whispers the words and tries not to sound as wired as he felt. This was the first time his hands had not been aimed to hurt Zi-O—but, that’s wrong, Geiz tells himself quickly. After all, the one beside him, who is all but pliable and warm and humming sleepily against him, is Sougo.
Geiz finds that he would not mind to just stay like this, especially as Sougo leans fully against him, his head drooping down onto Geiz’ shoulder, and his mouth parted open in a snore.
He does not know when he drifts off to sleep, but when he does, it is next to the sun.