Archive of Our Own

I.

”Everyone watch out!”

Senkuu barely sees it coming. 

But managing to spot the spear aiming for his chest and dodging it are two completely different things.

He knows he has six seconds by the time he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. 

Five when he spots the blue eyes of the one holding it— Hyoga, Hyoga would be the one to strike first— and four when his gaze lands on the spearhead aiming to kill. 

Three, and his mind is still racing, panicking, he can’t get out of this—

Two... and a yellow cloak and hat enters his tunneled vision.

One. 

The man— he doesn’t think he’s ever met this person yet, not face to face, but he remembers the voice that called out eight seconds before from not hours earlier— Ukyo is thrown back into him, lifted off his feet and slammed into Senkuu’s chest, and Senkuu falls back into Chrome and Taiju, and they all end up in a heap on the ground, and—

Ten seconds after the warning, Senkuu’s holding a bleeding ally in his arms.

“Hey, hey.” Senkuu tries, shaking Ukyo’s shoulders, even as he doesn’t stop looking between him and the two men before him. “Hey, wake up.”

Ukyo hisses. Shifts. Opens one eye— green, emerald, they’re bright, alive— and smiles at him. 

“I’m— I’m awake,” Ukyo says, trying to move, sitting up and away from Senkuu as Taiju scrambles to his feet and Chrome stares at the new arrivals. 

Ukyo hisses and clutches at his chest, and he’s bleeding fairly heavily, and it looks like he hit his head somewhere in the fall, and he’d taken that spear for him, why the hell—

“Ukyo!” Someone calls, and that sounds like Nikki. She runs up and Senkuu can’t waste anymore time in getting to his feet and facing down his killer.

“Well, that’s one rat down,” Hyoga comments before anything else. 

It makes Senkuu’s blood boil.

But he brushes it away in favor of calming Taiju down and declaring war.

II.

The cliffside on the other side of the battlefield lights up, and Senkuu knows they’ve won. 

Until one of the dumbasses on Tsukasa’s side actually gets the bright idea to attack the people holding nitroglycerin , and Senkuu’s about to curse, mind whirling to figure a way out—because he can get out this time— and then—

The sound of a bowstring drawing back, almost purposefully audible.  

“Then how about something a bit more accurate...?”

Senkuu looks back. He spots Ukyo again, standing— is he more injured than before? Had he tried to keep fighting after someone hastily bandaged him up?— and staring down Tsukasa himself.

Emerald eyes flick to Senkuu, then back again, and Senkuu sets it aside to make his deal. 

Tsukasa agrees. 

Senkuu is just relieved that the fighting is over.

III.

Senkuu finally, finally manages to fight his way away from the others— from Yuzuriha trying to manage his and everyone’s injuries, from directing Taiju’s never-ending energy somewhere, from telling Chrome to not try touching the nitroglycerin if he didn’t want to blow the place up —

—from watching Tsukasa and Hyoga from the corner of his eye as they stayed clear—

— and find the man.

“Do you usually sit in weird places?”

Ukyo glances back and down at him, from his place sitting between the ledges of the rocks. He has a new bandage around the side of his head, and he’s not wearing the heavy cloak, instead wearing an open shirt, allowing the bandages around his torso to breathe.

How badly did you get injured?

He doesn’t look surprised to see Senkuu there.

Senkuu recalls Ukyo’s hearing. He realizes that the vantage point between the curved earth was more than just preference.

Ukyo smiles down at Senkuu. It’s that same smile from before. The one Senkuu can’t quite read, can’t quite find meaning in.

“Sometimes,” Ukyo shrugs one shoulder, and Senkuu sees his hands twitch and tense at the movement, but his smile doesn’t leave, doesn’t even waver.

Senkuu thinks he can see how someone like Ukyo survived Tsukasa’s empire for a year. 

“How’s everyone else?” Ukyo asks before Senkuu can think of anything else to say. “Was anyone badly hurt?”

“They’re all fine, kicking down Yuzuriha’s sanity to get moving again,” he huffs a laugh. “You were probably one of the worse ones.”

“That’s good,” Ukyo sighs, eyes closed as his smile softens. “I’m glad everyone’s all right.”

”Nobody dies.”

Senkuu still isn’t quite sure he understands completely.

But what’s done is done, and he figures it isn’t any of his business to ask. 

“Well, when you’re up for it, there’s going to be food tonight,” he turns on his heel, “better eat and rest up. Everybody’s got to pitch in tomorrow. We’ve got a deal to keep.”

He starts to walk away.

“Thank you, Senkuu.”

He pauses. 

He glances back, and Ukyo’s looking the other way, but his hand his clenched around his bow, and there’s relief in his shoulders.

Senkuu keeps moving, waving as he walks away.

“I’m not one for ‘thank you’s,’ just keep that to yourself.”

IV.

“Ukyo..? Ukyo!”

An armful of wooden planks hits the ground.

Senkuu’s head snaps up and glances out the storehouse as Chrome’s voice pierces the air. He spots the younger scientist catching Ukyo by the shoulders as he stumbles back. 

For a second, all Senkuu sees is Hyoga’s spear aiming for his chest and someone crashing into him and blood—

Senkuu curses and by the time he’s made it out of the door, Ukyo’s sitting on the ground with eyes screwed shut and arms curled around his torso and breaths short. Chrome supports him from behind, glancing around in a panic. 

“You goddamn idiot, what they hell were you thinking—?”

Senkuu reaches out, tries to pull Ukyo’s arms from his chest so he could check.

Ukyo’s eyes snap open the moment Senkuu touches him, and he jerks out of both of their grips. 

There’s a long, tense moment in which Chrome backs off and Ukyo steadies himself by throwing one arm out before he hits the ground. He tries to breathe. 

Senkuu bites his cheek and curls his fingers, pulling his hands back to his sides before he tries again. 

“Ukyo,” he calls out, soft but firm. “Can you hear me?”

Ukyo takes another breath, blinks a few times, and tightens his arm around his chest again before he meets Senkuu’s eyes. 

“Ah, Senkuu…” He tries to smile, but this time, it’s not possible for him to hide all of the pain behind it. It ends up a grimace, Ukyo’s breath hitching as he tries to push himself back upright. 

“Alright, Ukyo,” Senkuu moves closer, slower this time. He thinks he sees the slightest bit of red bleeding through the man’s cloak, “you’re done for the day.”

“I can keep helping—“

“And what, bleed out?” Senkuu barks back, and Ukyo snaps his mouth shut, eyes widening. “You’re already halfway there. It’s time to call it quits for now.”

Ukyo’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away. Senkuu can’t gauge anything more from him, but it relieves him to see the other sigh and nod.

“Chrome, help me get him inside,” Senkuu asks, getting to one side of Ukyo and taking his arm. “Then go get me the medical supplies.”

“You got it!” Chrome jumps to it, helping Senkuu get Ukyo to sit on a bench inside the storehouse. Chrome disappears again, and Senkuu sits beside Ukyo, instructing the other to keep pressure over the slightly bleeding reopened wound.

Senkuu keeps one eye on him as they wait. Ukyo’s a bit paler, breathing a bit disrupted, and he hunches his shoulders.

“I know I said everyone had to pitch in, but you could have stayed behind and taken it easy, you know,” Senkuu says. “We’re just doing manual labor out here, and you’re not in any shape for that.”

Ukyo takes a few more deep breaths before he tries smiling again. It still looks strained. “I thought I’d be more useful here.”

“And how is that working out for you?”

Ukyo actually twitches at those words, and the smile melts away as he leans back against the wall. 

“... No matter if they can be saved or not,” he starts, voice low, “I still sat back and watched Tsukasa rule this place. Watched him destroy people’s statues.” He looks away again. “I can’t just sit by, now. I’ve gotta make up for that.”

Senkuu doesn’t reply. He thinks back to that phone call.

“I can’t just sit on the sidelines anymore.”

Chrome comes back before he can think of anything to say, and the two of them manage to get Ukyo bandaged back up and tell him not to move for the rest of the day.

Senkuu wonders if it’s really his place to say anything as he and Chrome go back to the search for Mirai.

V.

Senkuu watches their muscle team lift the stretcher with Tsukasa, directs the others to take Homura and Hyoga and cage them, waves most of the others ahead of him, and then he can’t hold his shoulders up anymore. 

He runs a hand through his hair— still wet and dirty— and tries not to wince at the bruises on his chest. The vest had saved him, for sure, but it hadn’t stopped the force of the blow from doing it’s damage. 

His legs and arms are shaking.

He’s pretty certain that isn’t from the bruises. 

He thinks he should be familiar with the aftermath of near-death experiences by now. 

He shakes his head, ignoring how suddenly annoying his bangs being in his face is, and starts walking after.

He makes it five steps before he trips over his own two feet. 

And only falls half a foot before there’s a pair of arms wrapped around him, followed by a hiss of pain in his ear. 

Senkuu’s head snaps up, feet finding solid ground enough to take his own weight, and he finds a wince in emerald eyes. 

“Thought I told you to take it easy,” he sighs, despite how the arm around him just tightens, and he knows it’s strong enough to keep him from falling again. 

“And you’re shaking like a leaf,” Ukyo mutters, pulling them both upright and helping Senkuu step forward, “Why didn’t you get someone to help you?”

“More important things to worry about,” Senkuu rolls his eyes. It wasn’t as if he was really all that hurt. 

Ukyo pauses. Pulls Senkuu to a stop with him. 

Senkuu looks up at him again, and the look in those eyes this time has his mouth glued shut. 

There’s something simmering, in those emerald irises. Something more determined than Senkuu’s ever seen in Ukyo.

“You’re important too, you know.”

Senkuu doesn’t know how to respond. He stares into those eyes and he’s suddenly very aware of how much weight he’s leaning onto the other, of how close they are right now, and... he doesn’t know what to say. 

So he doesn’t say anything. He looks away, takes some of his weight back, and tries to get them moving again, Ukyo complying as they start forward once more. 

“Let’s just get back to the others.”

VI.

Senkuu doesn’t know what else to do. 

His hands are shaking again, and he curls his fingers and takes a deep breath. He can hear the rushing of the waterfall, and he stares down at the cavern behind it, barely illuminated by the moonlight.

He stares at it, standing alone, running through every other option, through everything he could make or create that could help.

But he knows there isn’t any time.

His hands shake. He knows what he has to do.

He just doesn’t like it. At all.

He thinks about everything he’s seen, everything he’s gone through, that Tsukasa put him through. About the caution, the running, the terror when Tsukasa had held a blade to Yuzuriha’s throat, the fear when the man had walked past him with weapon raised.

The darkness. One he couldn’t fight, couldn’t count through, couldn’t force himself to remain awake through.

The people Tsukasa had awoken and put his trust in. Some who hated the man, some who could care less.

Even with all of this, with everything the man had done, Senkuu still couldn’t find any semblance of resentment for Tsukasa. He just felt tired of it all, tired of worrying that people would end up dead.

He’d cheated death once. Now, all he could do was put faith in the very thing that had once saved him.

He shakes his head, turns around, and starts back toward the settlement that had once been the Empire of Might.

There were more important things to be doing than hesitating and debating with his own morality.

“You’re important too, you know.”

He freezes. One foot sits halfway on the ground, and he nearly unbalances, but steadies himself.

There’s a flash of burning emerald in his mind, and he hadn’t realized how much that bothered him until now.

He bites his lip, and walks forward once more.

There still wasn’t time for this.

VII.

The moment Tsukasa offers up the information, Senkuu goes to Ukyo.

“He says he wants to help with finding all the broken statues,” Senkuu watches Ukyo’s expression shift from surprise to something he can’t make out to a careful, unreadable frown. 

Senkuu almost wants to say something. 

He doesn’t. 

“How long do we have?”

“A few days,” Senkuu holds out the bound notebook he’d put together. “So we need someone to write down whatever he tells us.”

Ukyo blinks at it. Looks up to him.

Senkuu sees something like gratitude, and something else that looks as tired as he feels.

“Thank you, Senkuu.”

“What have I said about thanking me.”

Ukyo laughs a bit, and Senkuu can almost see some of the walls fall, Ukyo smiling almost genuinely. 

The archer walks up and takes the notebook from him, “Still. Thank you. For being you.”

Then he walks past him, shoulders barely brushing. Senkuu turns and watches him go, and once again wonders what the hell is going through that man’s head.

Then he shakes his head. 

Too much to do.

VIII.

When it’s over, after he’s called the others back in and the freezer’s finally closed and he leaves Kohaku with Mirai, Senkuu walks out of the cavern and looks over those gathered.

He notices someone missing.

“We’ll find the source of the petrification,” he says, mostly to himself, but everyone else nods with him. “But until then, we need to get a move on.”

And they all dive right back into work that day. Senkuu starts directing things again, with help from Gen and Chrome, but something nags at the back of his mind through it all. 

“Have either of you seen where Ukyo went?”

He gets a negative from the both of them, and looking for Yuzuriha— still hard at work on the statue pieces— finds her in possession of the notebook.

“He gave it to me earlier,” she says, a slight frown on her face. “He said he’d be back soon, but…”

“What is it?”

“He…” She looks up, and she looks worried. “He didn’t seem okay.”

Senkuu sighs, assures her he’ll take care of it, and thanks her for her help. 

And he starts looking for himself. 

It takes him nearly an hour and a good bit of luck to stumble across Ukyo, settled at the treeline just beside the beach, hat pulled low and arms curled around his legs. 

“You used to work in a submarine, right?”

Ukyo doesn’t move, even with his question. Senkuu isn’t sure why he asked it out loud— it was simply a confirmation Ukyo likely felt more at ease near the sea. 

I’m turning into the mentalist, aren’t I?

Senkuu sighs when he still doesn’t get a reply, and walks closer. He settles himself against the same tree, a few feet away.

He could hear the gentle waves gliding across the shore, the shade pleasant in the oddly warm spring day, a breeze filling the area with a calm rustle of leaves. 

Senkuu takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes. 

He felt restless.

Too much to do. 

More important things. 

But…

… this was important, too, wasn’t it?

“You’re important too, you know.”

“What was it like?” Senkuu asks. His eyes flick to Ukyo, despite the continued lack of reply or acknowledgement.

He waits. 

Ukyo finally shifts. One finger moving to tap the brim of his hat. He pushes it up, and it’s only when he’s finally able to see his face that Senkuu notices the tears in his eyes. 

“Cramped,” is the first thing Ukyo says, a small, nostalgic smile on his face. “Cramped and quiet. I worked with navigation most of my shifts.”

“Sonar Man, huh?” Senkuu watches Ukyo uncurl more, leaning his head back against the tree, emerald eyes on the sky. 

“Yeah,” Ukyo mutters, still with that smile. “I’ve always been able to hear… better than the majority of people. It was quiet, down there…” He closes his eyes. “... but I guess my job choice only made it worse.”

Senkuu sees him take a deep breath. 

“My first time back on land after a few rotations was… really strange.” Ukyo pauses. “Everything was suddenly louder than before. Even clearer and if I focused hard enough I could… I could even pick out a person’s heartbeat. ”

How terrifying that must be goes unspoken.

Senkuu looks away. 

He thinks he knows what had Ukyo hiding way out here. 

He looks down, hands fisted in his lap, and all that questioning and doubt from that night beside the waterfall comes rushing back. 

“There wasn’t anything else I could do.”

He thinks he feels eyes on him, but he doesn’t pay it much attention, “He was dead without treatment. He’d have been dead before I could make anything that could help, we have no revival fluid for a doctor and even if we did there isn’t the right technology that can save him—“

“Senkuu—“

“— now, if we don’t find out what did this— if I don’t get my hands on the source of this mess— then there’s nothing I can do. I’ll have killed him myself if—“

“Senkuu.”

He looks up. There are hands on his shoulders, holding tight, and Ukyo’s crouching in front of him, eyes glittering and worried, and Senkuu wonders what he did to see so many of Ukyo’s walls drop so suddenly.

When, by all rights, Ukyo should be the first one to blame him. 

“You did what you could,” Ukyo says. “You did what you could, you said there wasn’t anything else, and—“ Ukyo suddenly lets go, pulls his hands away and falls back on the sandy dirt. “I believe we’ll find it.”

Senkuu bites his lip. 

“We will,” Ukyo smiles, and this time, it doesn’t look fake. “I know we will.”

Senkuu stares at him for a long moment. There are still tear tracks on Ukyo’s cheeks, but his eyes look steady, determined, like they had that night Ukyo helped him back from the river.

Senkuu takes a deep breath. Lets it out. Leans on that steadiness for once in his life.

Then, before he can really think about what he’s saying, he asks, “Want to listen to mine?”

Ukyo blinks, and the moment is broken, and he looks confused, “What…?”

Senkuu ignores any redness he thinks might be on his cheeks, “My heartbeat. You can hear it, can’t you?”

“I—“

Senkuu doesn’t give him a choice, and reaches forward, grabbing Ukyo’s collar and pulling him forward— Ukyo lets him pull him, Senkuu knows, because there’s no way he could ever overpower the other— until Ukyo’s sitting beside him, ear against his chest and Senkuu’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

Ukyo’s tense. Tense enough that Senkuu starts running his hand across his shoulders, taking another breath and letting himself think about this. There’s nothing he needs to rush back to right now, so he can let himself think. 

“You’re important too, you know.”

Slowly, Ukyo starts to relax. Slowly, he brings an arm up and winds his fingers into Senkuu’s shirt. Slowly, he starts to lean in and breathe shakily, and Senkuu doesn’t say anything when Ukyo starts to cry again. 

Ukyo doesn’t say anything when Senkuu’s hand moves from his shoulders to set the hat aside and thread through his hair.

And for a while, Senkuu lets himself relax, hold another person tight, and think instead of doubt. 

They had a lot to do. A long way to go.

“I know we will.”

We.

Senkuu wonders when it’ll stick that he isn’t alone, anymore.

How long does it take to break a near four-thousand year old habit of thinking too much?

IX.

For better or for worse— hopefully for better, Senkuu tells himself— things wind up busier. 

Gen keeps the peace as the villagers and the revived slowly start to get along, Chrome and Ukyo start running around with Kohaku a lot more for the sake of their map, Kaseki and the muscle team and the rest all end up alternating from working on the ship to building up the village to helping Senkuu with whatever new obstacle seemed to pop up. 

The addition of Ryuusui Nanami means that many more inventions and ideas and hard work to see it all realized.

Senkuu faces it all, and finds that with the five of them together, they manage to keep the projects in motion much easier than when he’d been the only modern man directing it all.

Finds that working with Ukyo is extremely efficient. Even over the phone, he explains the situation and everything they’ve discovered and put together quickly, almost like giving a report— and Senkuu knows it’s the soldier coming out in him. 

“Things should definitely be easier as soon as the balloon is finished, but we’ll try and place as many landmarks as accurately as possible before then—“

“You know,” Senkuu interrupts, even as he writes down the information and reminds himself to ask for copies of those maps later, “I’m not your commanding officer.”

He finishes writing his sentence in the moment of silence it takes for Ukyo to reply, placing down his pencil and smirking at the receiver. 

“... I mean, I know that,” Ukyo sputters a bit, “I’m just doing what I can—“

“You’re doing great,” Senkuu rolls his eyes and huffs, “I appreciate it, Ukyo. All of you guys, really.”

He clears his throat before Ukyo can reply, “How’s the village doing?”

He thinks he hears Ukyo laugh, ignores any heat he might feel in his cheeks, and wonders why he keeps saying these things around the other. 

“They’re doing well,” Ukyo says. “Everyone keeps talking about you.”

“Tell those old timers not to miss me too much, I’ll be bringing back more work soon enough,” he snarks, despite the warmth growing in his chest. 

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Ukyo replies, and Senkuu wonders why it sounds almost serious. “... and I’ll be happy to see you soon.”

Senkuu’s almost glad he knows Ukyo can’t hear heartbeats over the phone, “Yeah, yeah, Sonar Man… get some rest.”

He hits the end call button and stares at the receiver, biting his lip and trying not to smile too much. 

“Senkuu, can you—“

“On my way,” he says before the messenger at the door can even finish their sentence.

If the grin on his face is a bit softer than usual, no one calls him out on it.

X.

Senkuu leans over the edge of the hot air balloon’s basket— despite his previous near-fall— right beside Chrome and Ryuusui, and grins at the cheering below.

Another moment, and he spots a Ukyo’s yellow cap, the man himself waving and smiling. Senkuu finds himself smiling wider, even as he pulls Chrome back into the basket before he leaned too far out. 

Getting back on the ground takes a slight bit longer than he anticipates, especially in the midst of the lab area, but it’s the biggest open space close enough to the village. 

Senkuu steps back onto solid ground with a sigh. He sees Ryuusui follow Chrome around to meet everyone. Kohaku greets him briefly, along with some of the village kids whom she rounds up and leads away again.

Then he’s found.

A hand slips into his, lightly, but he grips it back and turns his head. 

Ukyo’s blushing slightly, hat tilted down enough his eyes are half-hidden, but his lips still turn upward. 

“How was the ride?” He asks. 

“Eventful,” Senkuu bumps their arms, “Nearly ran into a storm, fell out of the basket and hung from the rungs for a while—“

“Wait, what?”

“— but we made it just fine, so I’d say it was a success.”

Ukyo stares at him. Senkuu raises an eyebrow back. 

Then Ukyo shakes his head, “This is normal for you, isn’t it?”

“What, it took you this long to figure that out?” Senkuu snickers.

“I mean, after the lightning story, the acid lake story, the cave-diving story—“

“What all has Chrome been telling you?”

“— I guess I should expect this,” Ukyo squeezes his hand again. “... just be careful.”

Senkuu’s grin drops a bit, and he untangles their hands and steps forward, “Don’t worry about me, Sonar Man.”

“I’m always worried about you.” He hears, along with steps following his.

Senkuu tries not to let the fluttering in his chest affect him, “You worry too much.”

He hears a sigh in return, but then he’s once again accosted by the village children and Ryuusui, who is surprisingly adept at rounding them all up. 

He manages to glance back at Ukyo watching them, standing a bit further away from the chaos and smiling once more. 

Senkuu thinks about a hand in his and feels his own shoulders relax.

XI.

“How’s it going down there?” Senkuu asks into the phone, Ryuusui’s eyes on the wind and Kohaku still hanging from the landing rungs of the balloon’s basket. 

“Keeping up with a balloon is tiring,” Ukyo says back, and Senkuu snickers at Chrome’s groaning in the background. 

“What, even the Exploration King gets tired?”

“Leave him alone,” Senkuu can hear the slight laugh in Ukyo’s voice at Chrome’s indignant squawk. “Is there anywhere else we’re going before dark?”

“I dunno,” Senkuu hums, “anywhere you want to go?”

“Oh, give me that,” Kohaku reaches over the side of the basket and grabs the receiver from him. “I see something growing over by the coast.”

“Then we’ll head there! Our last stop for the day!” Ryuusui calls out, smirking at the both of them and taking the reigns and directing them toward where Kohaku pointed. Senkuu sticks his tongue out at her and takes the receiver back.

She smirks and ducks back over the edge. 

XII.

“I thought I told you not to push yourself.”

Senkuu glances up, still filling in spaces on the map even after the rest have gone to eat and sleep. It was overcast tonight, and the light from the lamp in the corner of the desk makes it look that much darker outside. 

Ukyo’s standing in the door, wearing a shirt and pants more relaxed than his usual high collar and hat. There’s a slight frown on his face, furrowed brows over emerald eyes, a cup of something steaming in each hand.

Senkuu twirls the pencil in his hand before pointing it at the other, “What is that?”

“Just some soup I managed to snag from dinner,” Ukyo holds both cups up and tilts his head, smiling again. This time it’s entirely too cheery, even if it looks almost natural on him, “Put the maps down and we can go sit somewhere.”

“Why not just in here?” Senkuu twirls the pencil some more. Ukyo doesn’t say anything else, though, and he doesn’t drop that smile. 

“... what if I say I’m not hungry?”

“Then I guess I can go tell Chrome you’re working on the maps without him,” Ukyo’s lips twitch a bit more, and Senkuu’s lips thin as he imagines Chrome’s betrayed look if he found out.

Eventually, Senkuu sighs, dropping the pencil to the table, “Alright, alright, you win.”

Ukyo’s fake smile turns into a grin and a laugh and Senkuu wonders where this playful side keeps hiding.

He stands up, grabs the lamp and follows Ukyo out the door. 

They end up settling at the edge of the village, away from the louder areas. The soup is warm and he appreciates the different tastes and meat, thanks to their expeditions. 

Ukyo sits shoulder to shoulder with him, and when they finish eating and set the bowls aside, Ukyo leans his head onto Senkuu’s shoulder. 

Senkuu sighs and wraps an arm around Ukyo’s waist, turning his face into the other’s hair. 

“You look tired,” Ukyo says, quietly. He reaches out a hand and takes Senkuu’s other, grip gentle and calm.

“I’m always tired,” Senkuu snarks back, words muffled by Ukyo’s hair. 

Ukyo just huffs and rubs his thumb across Senkuu’s knuckles, “Do I need to make you rest forever then?”

“I’d go crazy if I stayed still for that long.”

Did that once, don’t particularly want to do it again. 

Ukyo’s thumb pauses. 

Ukyo shifts, sits up, but instead of pulling away, Senkuu finds their foreheads rested against each other. 

He feels vulnerable this way. Ukyo looks just as he feels, any walls he still kept up around Senkuu fallen away. 

Senkuu thinks his heart beats a little faster, this close, this open. He tightens his grip on Ukyo’s hand when he notices the smile the other wears. 

It’s small, soft, calm, at ease, totally relaxed and directed at Senkuu, and he almost can’t fathom why. 

But he stops that train of thought before it could spiral, and blinks, and feels simultaneously nervous and exhausted. 

“There’s just so much to do,” he admits, tightening his grip on Ukyo’s hand. His voice is so low he thinks anyone else wouldn’t be able to hear him. “There’s a long way to go and I don’t want to get behind.”

Ukyo lifts their hands, up to his cheek, and Senkuu watches Ukyo’s lips brush the back of his hand. 

“You won’t get behind, Senkuu,” he says, breaths light against his hand. “You need to take care of yourself.”

Senkuu sighs through his nose, and he can see how much worry he’s causing the other, “I know. I’ll try.”

“Good,” Ukyo says, squeezing his hand one more time before he lets go and starts to pull away. 

Senkuu doesn’t let him. 

He curls his hand around the back of Ukyo’s head and leans in. 

Ukyo’s lips are soft, warm, and after a moment in which he thinks he must have surprised the other, they return the kiss almost cautiously, carefully. 

Senkuu pulls himself closer to Ukyo’s side, arm still wrapped tight around the other. He feels one of Ukyo’s hands move to his neck, the other to his thigh, and Senkuu melts into touch. 

He pulls away, just slightly out of breath, and can’t help but laugh at the blush in Ukyo’s ears. 

“What?”

“You’re just surprisingly cute.”

“Wha—“ Ukyo’s cheeks get redder and Senkuu laughs and turns, leaning back into Ukyo’s chest.

“I think our first kiss took a lot outta me,” he says, taking Ukyo’s arms and wrapping them around his shoulders. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”

Ukyo tenses for a moment before he laughs, almost incredulously, “You’re hilarious.”

“Thanks- hey,” he squirms a bit when Ukyo pokes his side, but then Ukyo tightens his grip and pulls him into his lap, dropping his head to Senkuu’s shoulder. 

“Then rest, Senkuu.”

“Yeah, yeah, Sonar Man,” Senkuu says, though it turns into a yawn halfway through.

He wonders when the last time he felt this comfortable being this close to another was.

XIII.

“You’re a terrible cook,” Senkuu hears from his place at the table, the taste of char still in his mouth. He lifts his head as Ukyo sits down across the table and gives him a flat look. 

“If you know how to make bread, please, step up,” Senkuu gestures to the oven in the center of the clearing. 

Ukyo laughs a bit awkwardly, “I’m not actually that much of a cook myself.”

Senkuu snorts and crosses his arms, watching the other villagers give the thing another go despite their previous failures— alongside baking more fish, which Senkuu isn’t opposed to. 

“Ryuusui’s dragged Chrome and a few others off to look for his cook,” Ukyo mentions. 

“Maybe it’ll pan out,” Senkuu says. Them he glances across the table to find Ukyo staring at him. “What?”

“They’ll probably all be out this afternoon,” Ukyo says, glancing away even as his ears turn red, and Senkuu blinks. “I was just wondering if… you wanted to do something together?”

“... like a date?” Senkuu can’t help his smile, nor the laugh that escapes him.

“I just thought we could go for a walk together,” Ukyo pouts, “I think I know a place you haven’t got to see up close, yet.”

Senkuu catches Ukyo’s eyes and smiles, “I’ll bite.”

XIV. 

Ukyo humorously offers to carry him twice before Senkuu sits down against a tree to catch his breath. 

“Look, I just don’t want to be touched today,” he says, hands up in surrender and brows furrowed in annoyance at his own lack of endurance. 

“Ah,” Ukyo bites his lip and crouches down a bit away from him. “Sorry, Senkuu.”

“What for?”

“Making you uncomfortable,” Ukyo watches him, and his eyes are once again dark and serious. “Guess I should have told you how far it was, too.”

“... I’m not uncomfortable, Ukyo,” Senkuu starts slowly. “Well, beyond not being much of a hiker. There’s just days I can’t stand close contact. It doesn’t have to do with anyone else but me.”

“Still…” Ukyo starts, trails off and looks away. 

Senkuu crosses his legs and leans his arms on his knees, watching the other as his breathing finally comes back under some semblance of control. 

“Does it bother you?”

Ukyo’s head snaps up, “What?”

“That I don’t—“ Senkuu cuts himself off with a sigh, scratching the back of his head and not meeting Ukyo’s eyes. “I told you I was ace. Then there’s this, and I’ve had a couple of relationships before and they were cut pretty short because I’m not touchy-feely the majority of the time.”

He stops, makes himself look Ukyo in the eye, “Maybe this isn’t the time for this, I just… don’t want it to be something that makes this hard.”

“... Senkuu, I don’t know what happened before, but I’m certain that I’m not going to get upset for respecting your boundaries.”

Senkuu presses his lips flat. Stares into honest emerald green. Looks away. “You’re too nice.”

Ukyo snorts, stands up and waits for Senkuu to climb back to his feet as well before they keep moving. 

Ukyo walks ahead of him, slow enough Senkuu can keep up, and they make it up another slope in silence. 

“I was in a long-term relationship once.”

Senkuu looks up as he grabs a branch to help pull himself forward.

Ukyo pauses and looks back at him. “We ended up breaking up after I joined the navy. He didn’t want a relationship where I wouldn’t be there most of the time, and I didn’t want to force him into one. It… hurt, but he wasn’t going to talk me out of my decision and I wasn’t going to convince him to wait on someone that wouldn’t be there.”

He looks back up the slope, one finger tilting up the brim of his hat, and laughs a bit, “That’s… probably not the best example, considering we broke it off, but I’m just trying to say…” He glances back again. “Maybe I can be too nice sometimes, but I respect you enough not to force you into anything you don’t want. It’d hurt me more to know I hurt you, so stop me if I ever end up too much.”

Then he smiles, and it’s not quite the honest one, but Senkuu thinks Ukyo’s allowed that privacy after talking about a past relationship. 

On the other hand, all he can really do is stare at the other. 

“You really are too much.”

Senkuu feels bad about the momentary panic he sees in the other’s eyes, but he pushes forward and waves a hand before anything else could come of it, “Not what I meant. You’re too selfless.”

Ukyo blinks. Opens his mouth.

Senkuu cuts him off, “And all of that goes both ways, you know, you soft idiot.”

Ukyo closes his mouth and smiles, and it’s significantly more real this time. “I’m a little more selfish than you think.”

“And I have flat hair.”

Ukyo actually laughs out loud, and Senkuu catches up in time to slap him on the arm and walk ahead, “How much farther, Sonar Man?”

Ukyo calms himself down and catches up again, “Not too much farther.”

“Whatever you brought me out here for better be worth—“

Senkuu reaches the top of the slope and pauses. 

He realizes that for the past couple of minutes, he’s been hearing the slight hiss of water in the distance. 

That he can feel a breeze from up ahead. 

And he glances back to Ukyo. 

“You’re such a sap.” He grins. “Waterfall date?”

“You haven’t actually been able to see it from the ground yet, right?” Ukyo’s lips curl up innocently. “I know a good spot,” he hefts his bag, “and I brought food.”

Senkuu grins and shakes his head, “Well, show me where we’re heading so I can finally stop walking.”

Ukyo smiles and leads him the rest of the way. 

And if Senkuu is honest with himself, seeing Ukyo look so refreshed and excited upon spotting the enormous waterfall and Mt. Fuji —a beautiful scene, really, Senkuu could appreciate nature and how it’s changed— he thinks a hike to get here will always be worth it. 

XV.

“Doin’ alright?”

Senkuu watches Ukyo glance up from the equipment on the boat, perfectly calm despite the fact that Senkuu had only spoken up when he was standing behind him, on the shore, never once in his line of sight.

He kind of wonders what it’s like to never be snuck up on.

It’s late enough he can see stars reflecting off the surface of the water, and Ukyo’s eyes are somehow darker with just a quarter of a moon to light them.

He’s smiling. It’s an honest one, Senkuu thinks. But there’s something off about it.

“Yeah, just…” Ukyo glances back down to their rig, prepared to go back out on the water tomorrow, though Ukyo’s pulled the protective covers off for now. “Thinking, I guess.”

Senkuu watches him sit down in the driver’s seat, take off his hat, and stare out over the water.

Senkuu sighs and climbs into the boat.

Makes it to the front before he over balances and tips toward the edge.

And then he’s being pulled back in, crashing into the seats, an arm wrapped around him and practically sitting in Ukyo’s lap.

“You know, you could have just asked if you wanted to cuddle,” Senkuu remarks, and he knows Ukyo’s ears have gone red, but he shifts off anyway. He could tease him later.

“I guess you haven’t actually been on boats that often,” Ukyo mutters.

Senkuu slides into the passenger seat and throws him a grin, “I spent most of my time in a lab.”

“So I’ve heard,” Ukyo laughs, and Senkuu thinks the darkness lifts just a bit.

“... So, what does it take to know what ‘just thinking’ means?”

Ukyo laughs again and Senkuu’s glad he didn’t ask wrong, even as the other turns away and silence falls for a few moments.

“Have you ever stopped to think about how different things are now?” Ukyo says, continuing. “There’s no more countries, no more borders, no more military or wars or…”

He pauses, shakes his head, “Well, I guess mankind’s still working on the war part.”

“Wasn’t much of a war we had, to be honest,” Senkuu shrugs his arms and looks up to the stars. “But… yeah, I see what you mean.”

Silence falls between them. It’s a bit heavy, but not suffocating, and after a moment, Senkuu feels Ukyo’s hand slide into his across the seat.

He glances down, slips his fingers between Ukyo’s and holds the other’s hand tighter. 

“What’s bothering you, Sonar Man?”

“... I’m a coward, Senkuu.” Ukyo doesn’t look at him. Keeps his face turned away and grip stiff. “I’m not brave, I’m not charismatic or… even honest with myself a lot…”

Senkuu watches Ukyo’s shoulders tense. Feels Ukyo’s hand tighten around his, and he squeezes back just as hard.

I’m here.

“But thinking about it, I’m… afraid,” he says. “Afraid things will just go right back to the way they were.”

He tries to pull his hand away. Senkuu holds it tighter.

“And what else?”

Ukyo’s head snaps around, eyes wide, and without his hat, his hair flies around a bit in the breeze that follows up.

Senkuu returns his stare until Ukyo grits his teeth and faces front, shaking his head and taking a breath.

“I’m afraid,” Ukyo says into the night air, “that if anything happens, I won’t be able to protect you. I won’t be good enough.”

For you. To help you.

Senkuu lets him sit there for a moment. 

Then he slides closer. Until he can pull their linked hands into his lap and bring his other up to turn Ukyo’s head to look at him.

Ukyo doesn’t fight him on it. But he doesn’t meet his eyes.

Until Senkuu leans in and kisses him.

Ukyo pulls away, but he looks at him, and he really does look afraid, and it makes Senkuu want to hit himself for not noticing.

“Ukyo Saionji,” he says, and Ukyo almost snaps to attention at the use of his full name. “I’m not asking you to be good enough.”

“Thank you. For being you.”

“All you have to do is be you, and I’ll have everything I ever wanted right here,” Senkuu holds his gaze, looks that fear in the eye and doesn’t look away. “You don’t have to protect me, because I’m not letting you fight alone.”

He stares for as long as Ukyo lets him. Until Ukyo closes his eyes with a huff and a pained smile, pulling his hand out of Senkuu’s grip to wrap both arms around Senkuu’s shoulders.

Senkuu does the same, burying his face into Ukyo’s shoulder and holding him tight.

Ukyo’s shaking.

“You’re ridiculous,” he hears, muttered into his hair.

“So I hear,” Senkuu replies, and when Ukyo’s grip slackens, he pulls away enough to lean against his shoulder and twine their fingers once again.

Senkuu spends the majority of that night pointing out constellations to Ukyo and listening to Ukyo tell submarine stories, and thinking maybe, maybe he’s getting there. 

Maybe together, they can stop thinking so much.

XVI.

Until it all spirals once more.

“Senkuu—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Ukyo.”

He keeps walking, the others having run on ahead after docking the boat. Ukyo’s behind him, for once, instead of walking ahead, and Senkuu wonders how much of that is his anger spurring him on and how much of it is Ukyo trying to stay out of his way.

“Please, Senkuu, what happened back there—”

“Just leave me alone,” he hisses, turning around and glaring at the other and he knows where all this anger is coming from, knows what he’s doing with it.

Knows he really shouldn’t be doing what he was.

But he doesn’t know what else to do but lash out.

“Back the fuck off, Ukyo.”

Ukyo freezes. Looks him in the eyes. And Senkuu sees the exact moment he falls back on that smile and that look, and it just makes him angrier.

“Okay,” Ukyo says, softly, “Okay, I’m sor—”

“Stop that.” Senkuu clenches his fists, and Ukyo blinks, and the smile disappears, and the blank look he’s left with is almost more infuriating.  “Stop hiding like that, damnit, I’m sick of that—”

Senkuu clamps his mouth shut. Turns away. Shut the fuck up right now, Senkuu Ishigami, or you’ll regret it.

“Just… leave me alone, for now.”

He walks away.

Why? Why? Why? Why?

That’s what I want to know. You aren’t getting away from me, bastard.

“You’re important too, you know.”

Shut up.

Nothing, right now, was more important than the person that caused this mess.

The person that left six astronauts up in space.

The person that separated him and his dad by nearly four thousand years.

Senkuu was angry.

Because he knew that there wasn’t much he could do right now.

XVII.

Ukyo doesn’t look him in the eye.

Senkuu doesn’t say anything about it. He still feels entirely too angry and he hates, hates that this is what he’s doing with it, so he keeps away, and doesn’t say anything when Ukyo avoids his gaze and his path.

He doesn’t want to hurt Ukyo more than he already has.

This is his problem, one that’s been simmering in the back of his mind for thousands of years, and he doesn’t want to drag the people he cares about down with him.

This is stupid. He thinks. Why the hell did I say that?

But the guilt just simmers with the anger and he realizes just how much he’s fucked up by ignoring it all this time.

He notices the glances he gets. The small questions from people. He thinks Ukyo probably gets them too. He realizes just how much of his free time had been spent looking for the other.

Ukyo was quiet. Ukyo was calm. Ukyo had opened up to him, and Senkuu had thrown all his promises down the drain.

I’m an idiot.

Except his feet are still restless and his fists still clench and he still can’t forget Ruri’s story. Can’t forget standing at a grave. Can’t forget the voices over that record that he hasn’t played back the beginning of since they played it several months ago.

But he also can’t forget a hand in his, calloused in different places than his own. Can’t forget that smile, looking out over the rush of a waterfall. Can’t forget lips on his, talking over the phone, holding the other in his arms, being held, and if Senkuu cut out the thousands of years of seconds, he could say that three years ago, he wouldn’t have believed he’d fall for anyone.

That him... wouldn’t have been wrong.

Because Ukyo was less like falling and more like slipping right into place.

“You’re important too, you know.”

You’re important to me.

“Please understand, Senkuu… Don’t forget that I’ll always… always…”

He rubs a hand over his face. Forces a smile to his lips and laughs at himself.

He wishes, just a bit, that his father didn’t know him so well.

He’d always hated leaving things unfinished.

And it wasn’t as if Senkuu could finish his father’s sentences for him, no matter how much he thought.

XVIII.

An empty flask crashes into the floor, and Senkuu knows better than to think he can just ask Kaseki for a new one, despite knowing the old man wouldn’t mind at all.

They’re all too busy for little things like this.

Papers and pencils clatter to the ground.

Senkuu’s hands are shaking.

All the shelves are wiped clean as random items and smaller contraptions they’d built and some of his own material stash fly off of them.

Nothing too important or dangerous gets damaged. He knows better than to create a hazard in his work station that goes beyond the equivalent of stepping on legos.

This is stupid. What the hell am I doing?

But he can’t stand looking at it all.

This is what he left me.

This isn’t what I want.

I can’t have what I want.

Why? Why? Why? Why?

That’s what I want to know.

He eventually collapses against the leg of the table, the chair already tipped over and too much trouble to right. 

Good thing Chrome’s out rock hunting.

He pulls his knees up to his chest, curls his arms around his legs, hides his face from the mess he made.

Like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

His breath catches.

His face feels wet.

Knock. Knock.

He doesn’t pull his head up. He doesn’t have the energy. He knows who’s at the entrance, anyway.

The curtain is pulled aside.

There’s a pause. Silence.

Then steps, slow and careful, though he thinks he hears a shoe crunch over some broken glass, and he worries that he might have hurt him again, how dumb was he—

Senkuu doesn’t move when a person slides down to sit beside him.

He doesn’t react when a hand reaches around his shoulders and he’s pulled into the person’s side and he hates to admit he kind of missed this.

He cries.

This isn’t like back at the graveyard. It isn’t like back when he’d had only a few moments to mourn before he was forced back into the thick of things, before he had to protect everyone his father left for him.

There isn’t some impending disaster, enemy to prepare for, immediately necessary invention to be had.

So he sits on the floor, full of the broken pieces of everything he lives for, and leans into Ukyo’s side and cries.

XIX.

“I haven’t… told you much about my dad, have I?”

Senkuu leans back against the wall of one of the storage sheds out near the shoreline, where he can see Kaseki and Ryuusui playfully arguing over schematics for the ship. 

Ukyo stands beside him, against the same wall. Senkuu doesn’t get a reply, but he can feel the look directed toward him.

Senkuu takes a deep breath.

“He was embarrassing, he worked on a teacher’s salary, he spent way too much money on his son,” Senkuu crosses his arms and tries not to look too vulnerable, despite knowing no one would look their way. 

He could tell there was some unspoken rule to give them some privacy. It was almost funny in an annoying way.

“He didn’t let being a single dad get in the way of his job or doing what he wanted. He was obsessed with space and being an astronaut, and he made it up there. I’m pretty sure he took some bagged ramen from the local shop with him too,” Senkuu smirked. “He thought it was the coolest thing. Wouldn’t shut up about it for a few days.”

He takes a deep breath.

“He… didn’t move on for however long he lived after that day,” Senkuu swallowed. “And didn’t forget about me even once.”

He trails off, and he wonders why that’s the part that means so much to him. Why thinking about his dad, living out his life and finding someone he cared about and having kids and yet never once leaving Senkuu behind was what stuck out among all the other shit his father had done for him.

He drops his arms and sighs, suddenly feeling tired, not really knowing why he said all that in the first place.

A hand slips into his, tight and steady and there, and he clings back and wonders how Ukyo ever managed to get him to be this vocal without saying a word.

He wipes at his eyes with his other hand, and it comes away dry.

He stares at it for a moment. Drops it back to his side and stares at the ground.

“... I’m sorry,” he says. “For… all of that. I shouldn’t have said what I said, back then.”

There’s silence once more, and Senkuu’s ready to pull away and let this be the end of it, to get back to work and… and he doesn’t know what, but he’d already fucked up once.

Then he’s being pulled along. Senkuu blinks, looking at the back of Ukyo’s head as the other drags him around the corner of the storehouse, where the only witnesses they had would be the forest and the sky.

Ukyo pulls off his hat.

And there are lips on his.

Senkuu doesn’t have time to think about returning it before Ukyo pulls away, resting his arms around Senkuu’s waist and Senkuu sees tears.

Tears and pain and even now, Ukyo’s walls fall between them, and Senkuu still can’t understand what he did to get that trust.

How he still had it.

“I’m sorry,” Ukyo starts, and then he doesn’t stop. “I pushed you when you told me to stop. You were upset and I wouldn’t leave you alone, and then I was too much of a coward to say anything else, and I’m sorry, Senkuu, you were upset and I didn’t do the right thing and I’m—”

“Apologize one more time and I’m hitting you.”

Ukyo’s mouth clicks shut at the empty threat, but Senkuu can still see the words in his eyes.

He sighs. Lifts his hands to Ukyo’s cheeks. Wipes away the tears and leans in.

He keeps the kiss brief, but he thinks he gets the message across.

And just in case he didn’t, he looks Ukyo in the eye and smirks, “We screwed up, but I missed you.”

Ukyo blinks. And the next thing Senkuu knows, he’s being pulled into a hug, Ukyo’s mouth right beside his ear.

“I’m here if you need me. I missed you, too.”

Senkuu laughs, and a weight lifts off his chest as he pulls Ukyo away again and smiles, “I know.”

Then he leans in once more, and the kiss is longer and slower and lasts until he hears a crack and a squeak from the bushes.

He snaps his head up just in time to spot a flicker of green and blue dart into the trees.

“... that was Suika,” Ukyo says, and Senkuu looks over to see him blinking bemusedly.

“... you mean she snuck up on you?”

“... yeah,” Ukyo says plainly.

They share a glance.

And Senkuu has to admit, laughing with Ukyo until they’re both leaning on each other, red in the face, is one hell of a I love you, too.

XX.

“I miss him,” Senkuu admits, staring up into the starry night sky while he listens to the sound of waves pushing against the shore.

He feels Ukyo’s arm tighten around him.

“I miss him, for thousands of years I missed him, and then I come back and find him gone?” He wonders if he’s speaking too loudly. If he sounds as incredulous as he feels. “Meanwhile, the rest of the world keeps sleeping. Then there was that message, and I just…”

Ukyo leans his head forward, chin resting on Senkuu’s shoulder, “It’s okay, Senkuu.”

Senkuu leans his head onto Ukyo’s and sighs. “I blew up. I was… I still am livid at the thought of finding whoever’s out there.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“You don’t have to face this alone, you know.”

“Yeah,” Senkuu sighs, “I know.”

Maybe this time, it’ll stick.

XXI.

Senkuu feels tense. 

“I don’t like having him onboard.”

“Neither do I. But we may need him.”

“I hope we don’t.”

He just keeps thinking about the cell underneath his feet. A spear aimed at his chest. A nick on his finger and the promise of more pain.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You keep scratching at your chest.”

“... oh.”

It’s been over a year, and he remembers thinking he should be used to near-death experiences, but this one just seems to stick.

It’s been over a year, and Senkuu’s still searching out the other. 

He takes the stairs without much more anxiety. He holds onto the steep railing, still not quite used to the bump and sway of the waves, even on a huge ship like the Perseus. 

He can’t help but huff and smile as he reaches the top and makes his way to the comms room.

It’s been over a year, so he doesn’t even bother knocking before opening the door, knowing if Ukyo wanted to stop him, he would have done so while Senkuu was still at the bottom of the staircase, headset or no headset. 

“Senkuu? What’s wrong?”

He spots Ukyo sitting in the chair beside the console, hat tilted up and headphones resting around his shoulders, and shuts the door behind him.

“What? I can’t come visit my boyfriend without a reason?”

Ukyo rolls his eyes. “You do that, too, even if you keep making excuses,” Ukyo says, and Senkuu purses his lips and looks toward the ceiling. 

He waits, knowing Ukyo’s gaze has turned serious again. 

Senkuu looks down and notices Ukyo’s scratching at his chest again. 

“Does it ache, any?”

Ukyo pauses. Blinks at him. Glances down and realize what he’s referring to. 

“... not really,” Ukyo says.

He doesn’t mention why he’s picked up that habit. They both know it’s the same reason Senkuu walked through the door while the rest of the crew was resting. 

Senkuu steps forward, crosses the room, and watches Ukyo pull his hands down and watch him. 

Senkuu reaches him and sits down on the floor beside him.

He holds out a hand and raises an eyebrow, “Well?”

Ukyo smiles— it’s wider than it was a year ago, he thinks, hesitation gone— and takes his hand, letting Senkuu pull him to the floor in front of him. 

They sit facing one another, hands still linked, and Senkuu reaches out with his other. 

He presses it against Ukyo’s chest. Ukyo follows him with his eyes, but doesn’t stop him.

Senkuu glances up, into emerald green. “Can I see it?”

Ukyo looks at him, lets go of Senkuu’s hand and reaches up to pull his other away, and for a moment, there’s an apology on Senkuu’s lips. He’s seen the scar before, of course, but never on purpose, and he wonders if Ukyo kept scratching at it because of the memory. 

But Ukyo pulls off his hat and his cloak, then his shirt, and Senkuu stares as Ukyo sets the clothing neatly aside. 

Splayed across his chest is a stretch of raised skin. It’s pale, and long, and looks like it must have been entirely too painful. 

Senkuu doesn’t move until Ukyo reaches out and takes his hand. He looks him in the eye, and he can see Ukyo’s a little less serious, smiling somewhat subdued.

He lifts Senkuu’s hand to his chest, but doesn’t press forward. He pulls away. Senkuu hesitates a moment before he reaches out.

He touches the top of the scar, lightly as he can manage. He traces the edges, careful and delicate, as if he thinks he might hurt Ukyo if he presses too hard. 

He knows that isn’t the case. And he knows that if it was causing any pain, Ukyo would say something. 

But he doesn’t, so Senkuu finishes tracing the edges, and rubs his knuckles along the thickest part of it. 

“I jumped in.”

Senkuu’s eyes snap to Ukyo’s. 

He sees that simmering in them again. He sees determination. He sees a smile that means so much to him, that’s completely real and completely open and it still shakes Senkuu to have directed at him. 

“I don’t regret it.”

Senkuu’s hand stills. He shakes it off and keeps tracing the scar, “That was a dumb move, Sonar Man. Couldn’t think of anything else to do?”

“I don't think I was thinking,” Ukyo laughs, reaching up and taking Senkuu’s hand once more. He lifts it higher, until his palm is pressed against the left side of Ukyo’s chest. 

Until Senkuu can feel Ukyo’s heartbeat under his skin. 

“I’m still alive, though,” Ukyo lets go and leans forward. Senkuu leans in with him, until their foreheads are touching and he can see every fleck of dark and light in Ukyo’s eyes. “We both are.”

Senkuu huffs, smiles back, and he can practically hear the promise there. 

I’d do it again for you.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, blowing his bangs out of his face. “Don’t go dying on me yet.”

Ukyo laughs and leans in, and Senkuu returns the kiss slowly, feeling Ukyo’s heartbeat pick up under his hand, and wondering if Ukyo was listening to his right now. 

Ukyo pulls away, enough he can mutter against Senkuu’s lips, “I promise I’ll try not to.”

“Make that try not to a definitely won’t and we have a deal,” Senkuu whispers, and Ukyo kisses him once more. 

“Okay,” Ukyo smiles. “Then I definitely won’t try to die on you.”

“Smartass.”

Ukyo just grins and Senkuu laughs and leans in again, throwing his free arm over Ukyo’s neck and keeping his other hand on Ukyo’s chest. 

He feels content, and he feels at ease, and he doesn’t know how long this will last, but he doesn’t let it stress him.

Come what will, Ukyo is the one person he’ll walk beside for the rest of his life.