Archive of Our Own

Shuichi rests his chin down on the dining room table, watching his aunt stir rice pudding at the stove. He’s plenty hungry and the pudding smells good, but he’s also so tired-- he stayed up really really late last night (like until eleven; he’s usually in bed at eight thirty) finishing the detective novel his uncle got for him on his last work trip and like, worth it. But also, Shuichi can barely keep his eyes open. He lifts his arms from his sides and tucks them under his face, because the press of his chin on the wooden table is a bit uncomfortable, but scoots himself back when his aunt puts a cup of orange juice in front of him.

“I told you not to start it last night,” she grins, and Shuichi pouts, sitting up to take the cup. “You’re just like your uncle, you can never put a mark in the page and come back to it later.”

After a pause to drink some of the juice, Shuichi replies, “There just wasn’t a good place to stop,” and rolls his lower lip between his teeth. He doesn’t really like orange juice, because it’s kind of really sweet and if he makes a mess of it everything gets really sticky, but he’s not gonna tell his aunt that he doesn’t want to drink it. It’s nice of her to give it to him, and he can feel a bit of energy returning to him from the sugar. He takes another sip and grabs a coaster from the dish in the center of the table, neatly putting the glass on top before he wipes the condensation off the spot where the dish was before.

Aunt Mei smiles. She’s not too fussed about getting glass rings on the table (if she was, then seeing the table in its current state would send her) but Shuichi’s so methodical about everything he does. It would be worrisome in an eight-year-old if she didn’t know him better. “I thought that there wouldn’t be, which was why I suggested you start reading it today. You look like a wilted flower,” she punctuates the remark by messing up Shuichi’s hair, and he jerks back as though burned, indignant.

“I’m not a kid,” he protests. Shuichi reaches up to try and tidy his hair. Bad enough he has that one piece that sticks up from the rest, everyone has to go around messing it up all the time… Aunt Mei laughs and turns back to the stove, and Shuichi feels his annoyance draining away. He gets mad or upset in tiny little bursts, but he can’t actually hold any anger towards anybody. It’s inconvenient maybe but it’s fine; Shuichi doesn’t like being angry at people. He takes another sip of his orange juice before he speaks again. “‘sides, I don’t have any time to read the book today,” he states.

“Oh yeah?” Mei ladles out a bowl of rice pudding, steaming hot from coming right out of the pot, and places it in front of Shuichi with a spoon. He doesn’t dig in immediately, though, instead opting to wait for it to cool down so that he doesn’t burn his tongue. “Why’s that?”

“Rantaro-kun’s coming over today, remember?” Shuichi pushes his orange juice away, moving around in his spot. A smile crosses over his face. “He said he has something he wants to show me.”

“I see,” Mei nods. “Then I guess you won’t have any reading time.”

“Nope,” Shuichi pops the P. “It’s okay, I think whatever Rantaro-kun wants to show me will be pretty cool,” he picks up his spoon, still smiling, and rubs it with his thumb. “He’s really smart, y’know? We went walking around the neighbourhood once and got lost but he found the way back without even stressing out about it.”

Mei thinks that seems pretty in-character for Rantaro, at least from what she’s seen of him. The kid’s got a lot on his shoulders, but he seems really mature for a nine-year-old. Not that Mei would ever try to dictate who her nephew hangs out with, but Rantaro’s a good choice of friend. (Shuichi has good taste like that.) “When will he be coming over?”

“Oh, probably around--”

At that moment, the doorbell rings, and Shuichi’s face lights up. Mei finds herself smiling. She undoes her apron and tosses it onto the counter, touching her nephew’s shoulder as she moves past the table. “Eat your breakfast, I’ll let him in,” she says, and Shuichi nods, using the spoon he’s been fidgeting with to eat a mouthful of pudding. Mei steps through the foyer and unlocks the door, looking down as she opens it to meet Rantaro’s gaze. Rantaro’s a sweet kid with a bright smile. He and Shuichi probably have some adventures planned, because he’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder with a full waterbottle in either side pocket.

“Good morning, Aunt Mei,” Rantaro greets, bowing. Mei hums, bowing in return. He’s got his own pair of indoor shoes, though he probably won’t be wearing them for long before he and Shuichi go running off. It would worry her, sending her kid around the neighbourhood with nobody but his best friend at his side (after all, Rantaro’s only a year older) but they’re both pretty wise for their years. Rantaro has a lot of younger sisters, and it shows in the way he interacts with Shuichi.

“You can come on in,” Mei says, moving back to let him in. “Shuichi’s just finishing his breakfast. Do you want a bowl? I made rice pudding.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Rantaro nods, stepping out of his shoes and swinging his backpack off to rest next to them. He has a little avocado charm hanging off one of the zippers. Cute. Mei closes and locks the door before moving back to the kitchen to get him a bowl.

Shuichi has a mouthful of pudding when Rantaro sits down at the table, so he covers his mouth with a hand as he waves, and smiles when Rantaro grins at him. They’ve been able to hang out a lot since summer vacation started, which has been nice. They usually walk to school together too, since Rantaro’s house is just at the end of the block, but since Rantaro’s a fourth year and Shuichi’s still in third, they don’t see each other much unless during recess, or cleaning duty. Not so much during cleaning duty, though, since they’re usually assigned to things with their classmates.

It’s okay. It just means Shuichi looks extra forward to summer vacation. He scrapes his spoon along the bottom of his bowl to get all the crushed grains of rice (his uncle told him once that every grain of rice he wastes represents a maggot he’ll be forced to eat in the afterlife and he doesn’t really believe it, because like, y’know, ick, but still, better safe than sorry) as he watches Rantaro eat. Rantaro kind of looks like a painting, or something. Is it weird to think that your best friend is super pretty? Maybe. Shuichi doesn’t know about any of that stuff, it’s just kind of stating facts that Rantaro looks really nice.

His hair is such a pleasant, soothing shade of green, and when he smiles his eyes get all crinkly and shimmery, and he wears these blobby friendship bracelets around his wrists that a couple of his little sisters made for him. It’s nice. Rantaro’s a really good big brother. Shuichi’s an only child, and Aunt Mei and Uncle Akifumi don’t have any kids, but even if he did have some other kid around the house, he doubts he’d be anywhere near as good of a brother as Rantaro is. It occurs to Shuichi that the staring is probably weird, even if calling Rantaro pretty inside his head isn’t, so he turns away and finishes his orange juice.

When Rantaro is finished eating, he turns to Shuichi and raises his eyebrows. Rantaro’s so expressive, it’s pretty easy to tell what he’s thinking. Shuichi’s chair squeaks against the dining room floor when he stands up. “Aunt Mei, we’re gonna go now,” he says. “Thanks for the breakfast,” he adds, thinking of it, and moves to grab his backpack from the doorway. Rantaro follows suit, giving a thanks a lot more warmly than Shuichi does (Rantaro’s got good manners) before slipping after him to the door.

They don’t really speak as Shuichi laces up his boots-- he was just gonna wear sneakers, but Rantaro said yesterday that he should go for boots, so that’s what he’s doing. It looks kind of hot outside, at least it looks that way, so Shuichi hopes that his feet don’t get too warm. Worst case scenario he can take off his shoes and socks and walk barefoot for a while. His uncle calls it developing their summer feet, walking around without shoes on. It hurts less after a while.

As they step outside, Shuichi pulls out his house key and locks the door, waving through the peep hole to his aunt even though she can’t see him anymore. Then he turns to Rantaro, grinning. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Rantaro grins back. He doesn’t have his backpack fully on yet. In fact he swings it over to his front, propping it up on his knee, to rummage through the big pocket, which he probably unzipped while Shuichi was locking the door. (He goes ahead and returns his key to the small zipper pocket at the top of his backpack, just so he doesn’t lose it.) Rantaro pulls out a rolled up piece of paper that’s slightly faded at the edges and hands it to Shuichi so he can rezip and put his backpack back on.

“What’s this?” Shuichi unrolls it and looks. It’s a map of the park a couple blocks away. There’s a large, forest-y area that Rantaro and Shuichi play in a lot, and the dotted line on the map cuts right through it, curving and leading to a big red X. “Is this a treasure map?”

“I think so,” Rantaro nods. “I found it when I was pushing Kikuko on the swings yesterday. By the way,” he gestures with his shoulder for Shuichi to walk with him as he starts in the direction of the park. “We have Aki to thank that Kikuko isn’t here today, she offered to play with her.”

“Hmm,” Shuichi smiles. Rantaro loves his sisters a lot, but Kikuko’s four years old and she follows Rantaro everywhere. It must be pretty annoying to put up with it all the time, though Shuichi doesn’t mind so much. Kikuko’s kind of fussy about how her things look, and he can relate to that, even though relating to a four-year-old is kind of weird, probably. Definitely not gonna say that to Rantaro, though. Besides, the one-on-one time is more fun, because they can go as fast as they want without having to worry about taking care of a toddler. “What if this map actually leads to some big secret that we shouldn’t look at? I saw that in a movie once,” Shuichi clarifies, to provide weight to his question.

“Guess the only way to know is to find out,” Rantaro says. He acts all mature and stuff around Shuichi’s aunt and uncle, but he’s a big troublemaker. Every time they go on field trips he sneaks off and goes somewhere he shouldn’t be. It makes him a lot of fun to be around, but Shuichi gets nervous about breaking the rules sometimes. Still, looking for treasure sounds like fun. And Rantaro’s good at maps.

It’s not like Shuichi’s an expert in all things Rantaro, though. There are some things he just doesn’t get. Sometimes Rantaro just stops talking and stares off into space, his brow twitching, like he’s nervous, or kind of sad? Shuichi doesn’t know how to actually help people who are feeling sad so usually he just stands there until Rantaro snaps out of it, but… he looks down at the map, tracing over the dotted line with his eyes. “It goes off the trail,” he notes. “At least, I think so?”

“It does, yeah,” Rantaro nods, bouncing a bit on his feet. “Isn’t that fun? I’ve never taken you off the trail before!” He gets excited about such weird things, Shuichi finds himself smiling. “Just don’t trip, there’s lots of roots and stuff,” they stop at the crosswalk before the park, and Rantaro reaches out a hand as though to gesture for Shuichi to wait before crossing. The way he crosses the street is super adult-like, he leans forward and looks at the drivers and everything. Maybe it’s an older brother thing. (Or just a Rantaro thing.) “Okay, we can go,” Rantaro hums, and Shuichi keeps pace with him across the street.

They cut through the large, grassy field where there are a bunch of teenagers playing frisbee, and then the playground. Rantaro waves at a couple fifth years who Shuichi recognises from around the school, and they wave back, which like. Wow. Shuichi gets too nervous to talk to anyone outside of his class other than Rantaro, so it’s… really cool that Rantaro is friends with so many people. Nothing fazes him, though. One time they went out into a lake on a raft and Shuichi dropped the paddle, but before he could panic Rantaro grinned and jumped into the water to swim over and get it.

(He’s a good swimmer.)

When they enter the forest, Shuichi is immediately struck by the change in lighting. The trees are tall and droopy, the leaves full and green. There are small holes in the blanket they form overhead, casting little streams of golden light down on the cushiony forest floor, but aside from that it’s darker, and slightly blurry like a dream he had once. It’s kind of chilly, too, at least in comparison to the temperature out there, and Shuichi shivers, shuffling the map into his other hand to rub his arm.

Rantaro stops walking, glances back at him. “Are you cold, Shuichi-kun? I have a sweater in my backpack,” he inclines his head slightly.

“Uhm, I’m okay,” Shuichi says after a moment. He’ll adjust to the change in temperature pretty quickly. The thought of wearing a sweater right now seems unbearably hot. “Thanks, though,” he adds, smiling. Rantaro’s smile is bright despite the dim lighting underneath the leaves and he gestures for Shuichi to follow him as he keeps walking. “If you’re gonna lead, do you want the map?”

“No, you finished your geography unit back in May, right?” Rantaro glances over his shoulder. Shuichi is walking a few paces behind him, but nothing drastic. Rantaro’s natural speaking voice is relaxed, not soft by any means but quiet enough that people several yards away probably wouldn’t overhear. “I remember doing it last year, you should be able to read the map. I trust you to tell me when to turn.”

Well, now that there’s the pressure, Shuichi is like twice as sure that he’s not gonna be able to do it, but he just nods his head quickly and cherishes the smile that Rantaro gives him as they keep moving. This would be a lot easier if Shuichi could just ignore people with pretty smiles, probably. Actually that’s a pretty good statement for life in general. His aunt says he’s kindhearted but Shuichi’s pretty sure he’s just a pushover.

They walk for a while in quiet, Shuichi alternating between watching the map, his feet (so he doesn’t trip) and the back of Rantaro’s head. The path is pretty flat all the way around, though he’s not gonna be able to guarantee that once they go off the trail, but either way Shuichi’s feeling kinda good. The woods smell nice, cleaner than the streets. A deep earthy smell. The trees are all covered in pale green moss, too. It’s super pretty. Rantaro’s hair is kinda the same colour as the moss. Both equally nice colours.

“Hey, Rantaro,” Shuichi breaks the silence, even though what he wants to say probably isn’t very tactful. “Your dad got remarried again, right?”

Rantaro’s quiet for a minute. “Yeah,” he replies eventually. Nonchalant, as always when it comes to these things, but Shuichi’s pretty sure it’s not a good question. He’s not even sure why he asked, he just wanted to talk to Rantaro instead of walking in quiet. “Her name’s Miss Hamada. She’s nice.”

“Oooh, stop here, I think we’re supposed to go off the trail now-- and, she has daughters, right?”

“Dad has a type,” Rantaro stops walking and turns around, a weird smile on his face. It’s been four years since Rantaro’s mom died; Shuichi didn’t know Rantaro back then but he’s heard about his mom before. She was nice. But most adults are nice. That’s kind of a weird, simple way to describe something that isn’t so simple. Shuichi fusses with the map. At least with his parents, he figures they’ll come back to Japan someday and take him to California. Even if it’s been… a while, since he’s seen them. Rantaro lost his mom and with the rate his dad remarries, it’s kind like he lost his dad, too. “Which way do we turn?”

Ah, right. The map. Shuichi looks down at it, “Uhm, left,” and peers down the hill. “It’s kinda steep, is it gonna be okay?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Rantaro nods after a moment. “If you’re worried about falling, you can hold my hand,” he offers, glancing over at Shuichi. So earnest, except that Shuichi’s hands are really sweaty and he’s sure that Rantaro will notice. In fact he doesn’t think that Rantaro’s ever had a sweaty hand in his life. Still, it is, really steep. Shuichi bites his lip.

“Can you take the map?” he asks. Rantaro nods. He’s so nice about these things, he never makes fun. Shuichi had a friend back in first year who used to call him a chicken a lot. Rantaro tucks the map into his pocket, careful not to crease it too bad, and then offers Shuichi a hand. Since it’s being extended, Shuichi feels weird refusing, and so reaches out to grasp at his friend. Rantaro’s hands are bigger than Shuichi’s, though not by too much, and, true to form, definitely not sweaty. Maybe he should’ve wiped his hand on his pants, first, but Rantaro doesn’t seem to notice.

“Ready?” Rantaro squeezes his hand, and Shuichi bobs his head up and down. They walk carefully and slowly down the slope, though admittedly Rantaro is supporting a good amount of Shuichi’s weight. Despite how nervous he is about, y’know, the sweat situation, Shuichi’s glad to have the support, because he’d definitely fall down the hill and break his neck or something otherwise. Rantaro stops them part of the way down to look at the map again, humming to himself and then nodding.

An easy silence settles over them. Shuichi finds this happening a lot. Rantaro’s great for conversation but they spend a lot of time in quiet for some reason. Maybe it’s because Rantaro knows Shuichi hardly ever knows what to say. It’s not that people make him nervous, it’s just difficult to think up real good words and sentences on the spot. It’s not so much like that with Rantaro, since with Rantaro it’s like there’s no expectation to say perfect things all the time, but Rantaro also seems to be comfortable in quiet. Which is nice. He has such a good smile when they go on adventures like this, determined and excited, even if what they’re gonna find will be super lame.

“Hey, Shuichi-kun,” Rantaro whispers. Shuichi raises his eyebrows. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Shuichi huffs, nudging Rantaro with his shoulder, but it only makes his friend laugh, which would be annoying if Shuichi didn’t really like Rantaro’s laugh. He finds himself smiling anyway, his cheeks awfully warm despite the chill from the trees. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?” Rantaro gives another brilliant smile, and Shuichi thinks that his eyes are the exact colour of the foliage overhead, but brighter, and prettier. Shuichi hesitates, but then he squeezes Rantaro’s hand.

“You. I’m glad you’re friends with me, Rantaro-kun. I like it when you take me on adventures.”

For some reason, Rantaro stops walking when Shuichi says that, his eyebrows shooting up on his face. Shuichi stops too, a second later than Rantaro does, and worries for a minute that what he said was somehow too much, too embarrassing. It certainly seems that way, because Rantaro’s face reddens, and he covers his mouth with the palm of his other hand. Shuichi opens his mouth to apologise, but-- “Uhm, thank you, Shuichi-kun, I-- I really--” he clears his throat, a lot more flustered than Shuichi’s ever seen him. “I like taking you with me,” he says quietly, avoiding eye contact.

It’s sweet. Shuichi smiles, maybe a little bashfully, and looks away. He’s never seen Rantaro at a loss for words before. “Where are we in relation to the treasure?”

“R-Right,” Rantaro clears his throat again and pulls the map from his pocket, looking down at it. “Uhm, just a little bit more this way and we’ll be at it-- I have a shovel in my backpack, you don’t have to do any digging though I can just do it.”

“How did you fit a shovel in your backpack?” Shuichi asks as he and Rantaro start walking again. “Your backpack isn’t that big.”

“It’s foldable,” Rantaro replies proudly, apparently having recovered from his embarrassment. “Miss Akamine gave it to me, I guess she had one in her shed before moving in with us,” he hums, tilting his head to the side a little bit. “It’s really cool but it’s kind of hard to use, I’ll show you in a-- oh, here,” Rantaro stops, a bit less abruptly than before, and Shuichi stops with him. “Uhhh, wait,” he lets go of Shuichi’s hand to unfold the map with both hands, his eyes flickering between the paper and the ground beneath their feet. “Okay, I think it’s… here,” he kicks at a spot in the ground, moving away seed pods from the trees and a number of pinecones. Clearing the spot for his shovel, no doubt.

Shuichi crouches down to look at the spot. He reaches out and feels the slightly damp soil, rubbing it between his fingers. It smells rich. “How can you tell?”

“Instinct,” Rantaro grins, shrugging off his backpack and tossing it onto the ground. “Are you thirsty? Here,” he grabs one of his waterbottles without waiting for Shuichi’s reply and hands it to him. Shuichi fumbles with the lid before getting it open, because even if he wasn’t thirsty he’d probably drink it, and takes a long sip. The water is cold, still, small ice cubes bumping against his upper lip, and tastes fresh and clean. It’s from the water filtration system in Rantaro’s kitchen, it’s super fancy because Rantaro’s dad has a lot of money. “You might wanna step back so I don’t spray you with dirt.”

“Ah, okay,” Shuichi nods, scooting back, and crosses his legs when he’s a fair distance away. Rantaro’s smile is soft, but shifts into a look of concentration as he unfolds his shovel, clicking the pieces into place so they’ll stay, and digs it into the dirt with the heel of his hiking boot. He’s so strong, Shuichi thinks as he watches Rantaro dig. Shuichi definitely isn’t that strong, he’s so skinny even though he eats a fair amount and it takes him a lot of energy even to do very trifle things. It’s annoying. Not that Rantaro’s not skinny, because he super is, it’s just that he does things like this effortlessly.

It’s not long before Shuichi hears the clink of Rantaro’s shovel against something hard. They exchange an excited look, and then Shuichi carefully rescrews the lid of the waterbottle, resting it on his backpack before crawling over to help dig with his hands. Now that Rantaro’s presumably reached what they’re looking for, he puts the shovel to the side and slides down to his knees to push dirt away at Shuichi’s side. It’s cool down here, and the buried soil is wet, but Rantaro kind of radiates body heat. He’s really nice to hover next to in the winter. Their hands brush each other a few times digging, but they just exchange laughs and keep going.

There is dirt underneath Shuichi’s fingernails by the time the box is exposed. It’s not so big maybe the length of Shuichi’s forearm, but it’s still exciting. Rantaro is the one who reaches in and tugs it out, smoothing out the pile of dirt they made next to the hole and plopping it down. He reaches out with one hand to brush the mess off of the box, revealing a polished brown surface. There isn’t a lock on it, so Shuichi’s expecting Rantaro to open it, but instead he turns around and meets Shuichi’s gaze.

“Here, you open it,” Rantaro says, gesturing at the box. Shuichi blinks at him, but then shuffles over, smiling for no real reason. He chose to wore shorts today because of the weather and he can feel the cool, damp soil beneath his knees when he sits next to the box. Rantaro scoots next to him, his expression expectant, and hums.

Without much else to do, Shuichi reaches out and opens the lid.

It’s dusty inside the box, hinting that it’s probably been buried there for a really long time. Cushiony on the inside, too. Before even looking at the contents Shuichi reaches out a dirty finger and runs it along the squish of the interior. Unsurprisingly, his fingertip comes away dusty. Shuichi wipes it off on his shorts before looking at what’s actually inside.

There are two small objects on the cushions inside the box, about a quarter of the size of Shuichi’s palm. They’re bronze, and dirty. Aged, it seems, but not rusted. Rantaro picks one up, holding it in a sunny patch to look at it. It certainly gleams. Shuichi lifts the other one. It’s round, and bumpy on the edges, like a gear, sort of. Shuichi wipes it off on his shirt, and it comes kind of clean, but not really. He’d probably have to wash it with soap and water. There’s a hole in the middle, too.

“Y’know what,” Rantaro says after a moment. He’s smiling. “I think this would make a great necklace. Can I see the one you’re holding, Shuichi-kun?” Shuichi passes it over, nodding, and Rantaro holds them both up next to each other. “They’re pretty much identical-- this is such a weird thing to bury, but they must’ve meant something to somebody at one point,” he hums. “Hey, how about I take these home and clean them and then put them on chains? Then we can both wear them as necklaces.”

“Oh!” Shuichi smiles. “Okay, I like that,” he doesn’t have any jewelery, though he’s always thought that it looks really good. Rantaro has his ears pierced, and he wears a lot of rings on his fingers, too.

“I have some pretty chains at home that’ll probably work,” Rantaro hums. “I’ll come by tomorrow and give them to you! But for now do you wanna go back to my house and eat lunch? Hiromi said she’d make something nice,” Hiromi being Rantaro’s father’s chef, because again, his dad has a lot of money. Shuichi nods. He doesn’t go over to Rantaro’s house very much, but he likes it. It’s always so loud and full of laughter with all his sisters running around. Shuichi’s kind of scared of Rantaro’s dad (he’s tall and intimidating, despite looking a lot like Rantaro) but his sisters and step-moms are nice. It’s fun going over, and Rantaro’s funny when he’s exasperated, which happens a lot whenever they’re at his house because Kikuko’s always clinging to him.

“Okay,” Shuichi says, in case the nod wasn’t enough, and Rantaro beams. It’s a nice, warm smile, and Shuichi memorises it, the way his eyes crinkle and his cheeks pinch, in the hopes he’ll recognise it if he sees it again.

---

Rantaro disappears from Shuichi’s life two years later. A trip to the Philippines turns into a trip out of existence, apparently, because for some reason Rantaro never returns to their block. And it’s fine, sort of, except it really isn’t, since Rantaro was his best friend and it feels like Shuichi was the lesser half, the less impressive, the less kind, the less brave half of the whole, but he keeps going because he doesn’t really know what else to do.

He doesn’t exactly confide in his aunt and uncle; there wouldn’t be much to say. What? He misses Rantaro? He wants his best friend back? Silly thoughts and silly feelings and his aunt and uncle already deal with so much from him, keeping him alive and all that, they don’t need to deal with his meaningless insecurities on top of it all.

It’s not like he wore the necklace every day while Rantaro was still around, because that might’ve been a little embarrassing. But when Rantaro disappears, Shuichi finds it, buried in his dresser, and slides it around his neck. The gear is shiny and clean after Rantaro took care of it, and the chain is long enough so that it rests on his heart. He stops taking it off. It feels like carrying a piece of his best friend around with him everywhere, even as the years pass and other people, Kaede Akamatsu and Kaito Momota and just, other people, take that title.

And Shuichi keeps busy. There is a lot to do. Lots of people to meet, lots to learn. He helps out at his uncle’s detective agency, although he doesn’t really want to be a detective-- he’s more interested in being a mystery writer, because he likes conceptualising the murders, not solving them-- and it’s nice talking to people, feeling like he’s helping out. His friends Kaito and Maki take him on a camping trip in their third year of middle school and they stare up at the stars, and Shuichi wonders (silently, in his head) if Rantaro is looking up at them too, wherever he is and whatever he’s doing.

There are so many people to meet, to make friends with, Shuichi finds himself overwhelmed when high school begins, but it’s okay. He sticks to the familiar, comfortable people, like Kaede and Gonta, and doesn’t take risks, doesn’t go on adventures, because any adventures he could go on would feel empty without Rantaro there to hold his hand as they make the trek down steep slopes.

(It’s stupid and childish to hold on to someone whose face vanishes from his mind whenever he’s not looking at a photograph, but for some reason Shuichi thinks that if he stops holding onto those things, their childhood adventures and his necklace and all the rest, Rantaro really will turn into someone who never existed in the first place, and then even in Shuchi’s dreams, he’ll never get to see any of those smiles again, not the polite ones or the annoyed, pinched ones, or the bright, excited smiles he always wore when they were going on a new trip.)

High school is long, maybe because of the people in it, but Shuichi finishes it just fine. He’s not top of the graduating class or anything, but that was never really his aim in the first place, so it’s okay. He gets into a nice enough college, the same one that his friend Maki is attending, and that’s pretty cool. He also gets a job, working at a busy cafe near the university, and moves into a college dorm so he doesn’t have to mooch off his aunt and uncle any longer. This has the unfortunate downside of him no longer getting to spend very much time on the block where he and Rantaro grew up, but it’s fine. It’s not as though he can really go to that park anymore without remembering the time they spent together, and that’s really painful so he tries to avoid it.

(He still has the box they dug up, though. Shuichi took it home and Uncle Akifumi helped him spray it down with a garden hose. It lives in his dorm room, full of random objects that Shuichi has kept over the years, and it’s the one thing in there that he’s ever expressed real anger over his roommate, Kokichi, messing with. Well, the necklace is the other thing, but he wears it under his shirt and only takes it off when he’s sleeping or bathing, so there’d be no way for Kokichi to get to it anyway.)

The cafe Shuichi works at is so constantly loud, usually when he has to get homework done he’ll go sit at a smaller, more quaint cafe at the edge of town. It’s nice, easy to bus to, and the owner has good taste in music (that is to say, really edgy, so Shuichi’s thing) and nobody says anything if he goes in and orders a black coffee and sits down with his laptop for several hours. It’s getting closer to summer time again, which is annoying. He liked summer vacation a lot in elementary, but nowadays summer rolling around means he either has to retire his all-black or dark blue ensemble and wear something lighter or suffer. And Shuichi’s not a quitter. At least not in that respect.

It’s not so warm out today, though, so he’s comfortable enough wearing a turtleneck. He likes turtlenecks especially because they completely conceal his necklace-- not that he’s embarrassed to be wearing it, it’s just that he’d rather not have people ask questions about it, if he can help it. He’s almost finished with this assignment, so he’d probably better start thinking about heading back to his dorm. It’s not like his campus is particularly far, it’s just that Shuichi doesn’t like busing in the dark, and it’s getting closer to seven. Thankfully this cafe is open until nine, but he doesn’t want to push his luck.

He saves the assignment when he puts in the final period and gently closes his laptop, packing everything up into his backpack and removing the lid of his cup to recycle it, then tosses the rest into the compost. Drinking coffee so late is kind of a bad thing for him, as in, he’ll be up all night, but it’s not like he’ll be sleeping anyway. Probably browsing memes in the dark, his blanket tented around him. Kokichi says he can still see the light from his phone anyway, but he’s also a pretty deep sleeper, so Shuichi’s not losing any sleep over it. Or, well, he is, but not as far as Kokichi is concerned.

Shuichi waves goodbye to the barista on his way out, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he starts down the sidewalk. He’s calculating the bus fare in his head-- and like, it’s fine, but he should probably keep an eye on it. Busing everywhere is expensive. Maybe he’d better invest in a bus pass, but the upfront cost is kind of an issue for him right now… his uncle would definitely be willing to help but there’s no way he’s calling on Uncle Akifumi unless it’s a dire emergency. Akifumi and Mei have already helped him enough.

A block away from the bus stop, Shuichi sees the bus pull up. He curses under his breath and grips his backpack strap, breaking into a sprint to try to catch up to it. He dodges thinning crowds of people to try to get there, even going so far as to run across the street despite the light being red, and thinks that maybe he’s going to make it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpses a flash of green. It’s enough to make him stop cold, but there are a lot of green things in Japan, and besides, the bus is--

Well, on second thought… his necklace bounces against his chest as he skids to a stop and turns on his heel, panting a bit from the exertion. There will be other buses. Shuichi looks around wildly, seriously considering the possibility that he was just imagining it, and is now going to miss his bus for nothing, but then he sees what he saw, across the street.

And he’s so tall now, but that’ll happen; it’s been a decade since they’ve seen each other, after all. He might be wrong, it might be someone else, but Shuichi doesn’t care. He cups his mouth with his hands and yells out, “Rantaro-kun!”

It’s weird yelling. He hasn’t done that in so long, and for a minute there’s no response, and Shuichi’s thinking, was I wrong? but then the man turns around, and Shuichi sees the furrow of his brow even from this distance, and his entire expression unfolds in surprise.

He always was, so, so expressive.

“Shuichi-kun?” he calls back, and Shuichi feels the depth of his voice slamming into his gut. Puberty must’ve hit him hard, though now there isn’t a bump or a stumble in that voice at all, just a low, velvety richness, and Shuichi swallows, nodding his head more dramatically than he would if Rantaro were right next to him and raising a hand above his head to wave. “Wait-- wait, I’ll come over, hold on,” Rantaro’s yelling, and Shuichi remembers how frequently he did that growing up, immediately volunteered to be the one to do something so that Shuichi wouldn’t have to, and he has to blink away tears because it would be stupid, really, to start crying on the street corner.

Rantaro crosses illegally, deftly moving between cars as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. He steps with purpose, just like he did before, moving quickly and determinedly until he’s standing just one yard away.

His skin is darker now than it was when they were younger, likely from time spent in the sunshine. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles, striking in the orange glow of the setting sun. He’s covered in piercings, a ring on his eyebrow and along the cartilage of his right ear, way more than those hoops he wore in his lobes as a kid. Shuichi has lobe piercings now, just black studs because he hasn’t put too much thought into it, but the contrast is startling. Rantaro’s hair is shorter-- does he have an undercut? But it’s still as wavy, unruly, almost windswept as it is in Shuichi’s memories.

(It’s soft in them, too, but that can be found out later, maybe, if Rantaro doesn’t flicker away like a figment of Shuichi’s imagination.)

He’s got rings on his fingers and hairbands on his wrists. His fingernails, like Shuichi’s, are painted black. Around his neck hangs his necklace, the one to match Shuichi’s, and Shuichi swallows thickly, wanting to reach out and touch it and not daring, and finally he’s sized him up just well enough to look up and meet his eyes.

His eyes have always been a piercing green. They were intelligent and bold when they were kids, full of humour and warmth. And that’s still present, in a sense, but what overwhelms Shuichi looking into Rantaro’s eyes now is a deep, deep sadness, lining his face (even though he’s still so young) and hanging heavy in his gaze. It’s too strong, too present to be a result of time and age. After years of helping out his uncle with his detective work, Shuichi’s looked into the eyes of countless people, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen someone with such a truly… sorrowful resting face. Or maybe Rantaro is looking upon Shuichi with sadness, in which case…

Against his better judgement, Shuichi reaches out a hand to caress the side of Rantaro’s face. His skin is warm, and soft, and by brushing his fingertips over his cheek, Shuichi ascertains that Rantaro really is here.

And he… doesn’t know what to say. When his parents left him, he used to fantasise about them showing up at his door to take him to America. Used to dream that they’d come and save him from this life, whatever it’s supposed to be, and let him be a part of theirs. He dreamed up a thousand things to say to them, ways to react, things to do, and… nothing came of it. He ended elementary school with the heavy, sinking realisation that they were never going to come back for him, ever. It was different with Rantaro, because he knew, at that point, what it meant when people took off. He didn’t bother dreaming, hoping, what-have-you. He just tried to move on, cherishing the memories that he could still bring to mind at will.

He feels utterly, out of his depth, and there are more stupid tears springing to his eyes. A look of alarm appears on Rantaro’s face, and he opens his mouth to say something, but all Shuichi can manage is, “What happened to you?”

Rantaro closes his mouth, and opens it again, and then closes it. He bites his lip. When he reaches up, resting his hand over the back of Shuichi’s (which still rests on his face) Shuichi feels the warmth radiating from his palm, too, such that his hand-- which remains cold and clammy as it’s always been-- is sort of… enveloped in heat. “Grew up without my best friend,” he answers after a minute, and Shuichi looks away, because if he starts crying now he’s never going to get over it. “Sorry-- I owe you an explanation, I promise that I wasn’t trying to just--”

“Rantaro-kun, I still,” Shuichi reaches into his shirt with his free hand, feeling around for the chain of his necklace and pulling it out to show. It’s warm, having been resting against his chest all this time, and Rantaro’s eyebrows quirk when he sees it. “I was, ah,” he offers a smile, just a little one, and meets Rantaro’s eyes. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

He wasn’t counting on it. That would imply that Shuichi’s an optimistic person, and he’s not. He never has been. He’s not a realistic person either though; typically, if the worst can be assumed, he will. But, somewhere, in his heart, Shuichi was waiting for him to come back. That’s the honest, real truth-- why Kaede and Kaito are his best friends but not his best friends, and why he only went on one date with Korekiyo even though he could’ve gone on dozens more probably, and why he doesn’t wear any other necklaces and he doesn’t touch or move that box unless he has to and why he doesn’t go to the park anymore because he wouldn’t want to go without Rantaro to lead him--

And now Rantaro’s eyes are so old, so sad, but they’re still his eyes, and Shuichi’s are smarting for what feels like the thousandth time. Rantaro blinks, and Shuichi catches the tear that escapes on his thumb, rubs it away, moves just the tiniest bit closer.

“Sorry,” Rantaro says breathlessly. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”

Shuichi shakes his head and tucks himself into Rantaro’s arms, the kind of hug he was always afraid to take when he was younger, the type that made him feel like he was overstepping his bounds, taking too much-- this time it doesn’t feel like he’s taking at all, but rather, when Rantaro curls his arms around his waist, face burying in his hair, it’s an equivalent exchange, a necessity, even. Rantaro smells like pine needles and smoke and minty aftershave and Shuichi breathes him in, feels the solidity of his person in his arms. Later they’ll talk about the other stuff, where Rantaro went and what’s happened while Shuichi has stayed, but for the moment, just for this moment, nothing else has to matter.

(Rantaro’s so tired of adventures, tired of seeing new places and discovering hidden treasure and searching for the things that he’s lost, but blissfully, wonderfully, Shuichi’s arms feel like home.)