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Chikage gently closed the door to the MANKAI dorms’ main entrance. It was a quarter ‘til midnight and all was silent in the usually lively dorms. Most of the troupe members were probably asleep, save for their resident night owls.
The green-haired actor sighed as he toed off his shoes and placed them on the rack. He had been coerced into working overtime once more, unable to slip away from his supervisor’s grasp.
Their department was slumped with work the past few weeks, causing him to return to the dorms deep into the night. And though Chikage was not a person who was deeply attached to his job, he still refused to do things half-baked. Unlike some who had volunteered to work overtime in hopes of a promotion, the green haired actor merely stayed to lessen his own workload for the following days.
Soft footsteps echoed against the quiet walls as he made his way to the lounge. He quickly spotted the soft glow of lights spilling from the living area, greatly contrasting with the darkness that shrouded the hallway, which meant that—
Sharp grey eyes scanned the room before his gaze fell onto the small form on the couch. As he approached the figure, his gaze unknowingly softened at the sight of their slumbering director.
She waited for him.
Again.
And as usual she forgot to carry a blanket with her, much to his chagrin. No matter how much she nagged at them, their beloved director always seemed to have no regard when it came to her own well-being.
Having no other option, the green-haired actor shrugged off his coat and gently draped it over her small form, taking great care to not wake or disturb her. Once he made sure she was comfortable, Chikage straightened his posture and moved to leave. After all, he wasn’t obliged to look after her.
Well, at least that was what he told himself.
But for some reason, he found himself stopping midway—glancing over his shoulder as his eyes trailed to her sleeping face. Her lips parted as she breathed, untamed locks of hair covered her face, and Chikage couldn’t help but smirk at the small trail of drool at the corner of her mouth.
Izumi didn’t look like a slumbering angelic goddess with tempting red lips; whose long eyelashes brushed her cheeks as her silky locks framed her face. She was far from it.
Yet, it was what made her look so peaceful to Chikage.
The green haired actor couldn’t remember the last time someone bothered to wait for him; at least not after his time with August and December. That was the only period he experienced any hint of domesticity and even then, they were on the run—under the watchful eye of the Organization.
But then again, ever since joining Mankai, Chikage found himself experiencing a variety of things for the first time in a while.
“Chikage-san?”
A soft voice brought him back from his musings and Chikage suddenly found himself staring into Izumi’s rich, hazel eyes. “Did I wake you?”
“Oh, uh no.” Chikage watched as she sat up and sleepily rubbed her eyes. Their director certainly had her cute moments. Wait, did he just think—
“I guess I fell asleep again.” Izumi murmured as she handed his coat to him. “Thanks for lending your coat to me.”
“You’re making it quite a habit to sleep at the lounge,” Chikage remarked, “Is your room not comfortable?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just guarding the fridge in case Itaru smuggles a case of sodas in the middle of the night.” Izumi rolled her eyes at him as she stood up and stretched.
Chikage shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. Izumi definitely looked like a cat as she stretched and he suddenly had the urge to pet her head. She was just so adorab—Chikage almost choked on his spit. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Have you eaten?”
Her question definitely brought him back from his delusions and Chikage suddenly realized he had skipped dinner. And lunch. Possibly breakfast as well. Did coffee even count as breakfast?
When had he eaten?
“No.”
“Thought so.” Izumi gave him a pointed stare, as if she just confirmed his unhealthy eating habits, “I put aside your portion during dinner. I’ll heat it up.”
As he watched Izumi retreat towards the kitchen, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
Izumi waiting up for him; making him dinner; fussing over him. It was all so homely. As if he was the hardworking husband and she was the faithful, loving wife.
The notion almost made him laugh but, strangely, he didn’t seem to mind it—at all. In fact, he found himself almost welcoming the idea.
If he had been his past persona then he would have probably ran away as soon as the smallest strings of attachment started to develop. Chikage was never one to indulge in ideals of “family”; deemed it an unnecessary illusion that people fool themselves into treasuring.
Yet here he was, arms crossed as he leisurely rested against one of the counters while Izumi prepared his meal for him.
Grey eyes shone with amusement as he watched her. Perhaps, it wasn’t at all bad to have someone wait up for him? It would certainly give him something to look forward to when he got home.
Home.
Did he consider this place his home?
The early morning ruckus as the troupe members start their day; the numerous complaints whenever their beloved director goes on a curry-spree; the grueling yet fulfilling hours of practice in preparation for upcoming plays; the small, simple moments that unknowingly carved themselves into his daily routine.
A small, knowing smile etched itself on Chikage’s lips.
Perhaps.
As long as Izumi’s warm smile greets him.
As long as her bright hazel eyes continue to watch over him.
As long as her soft, open hand remains outstretched towards him.
Then perhaps, maybe, he’d give himself a chance.
“Izumi.” If she was caught off-guard with the lack of formality, Chikage did not know. Izumi stood with her back towards him, patiently waiting for the microwave to finish heating up his meal.
“Hmm?”
Chikage did not reply. Instead, he crossed the kitchen in confident strides; like a graceful feline approaching its unsuspecting prey.
“What is i—“ their oblivious director turned around, just as he placed his arms on either side of her. Wide hazel eyes stared at him as Izumi found herself trapped between the counter and his slender physique.
The green-haired actor couldn’t help but smirk at her flushed face. Her adorable reactions entertained him to no end. Feeling more mischievous, Chikage slowly leaned down.
Izumi’s gaze became wary as he got closer and closer until his lips were mere inches from hers. His eyes shone with amusement as she placed her hands on his chest and leaned back, trying—and failing—to increase space between them. "H-hey! W-what are you—"
Suppressing a chuckle, Chikage finally took mercy on the flustered woman between his arms. The mischievous male straightened his posture and released his hold on the counter-top.
But before Izumi could fully relax, he grabbed her by the waist and held her in a fierce hug. As if she would suddenly disappear if he let her go.
She’s so warm, Chikage mused as he rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Chikage-san?”
He couldn’t help but feel as if she fit perfectly in his arms.
“Tadaima.”
The word slipped past his lips before he was aware.
It felt natural. It was natural.
But more than that, it was a soft whisper—a promise.
A request.
Izumi tilted her head, a perplexed expression on her face. He could see the mixture of emotions flashing through her eyes—confusion, curiosity, hope.
Do you mean it, her vivid hazel eyes seemed to inquire.
Chikage merely met her gaze, a warm playful smile on his lips.
Only if you’ll have me, his stormy grey eyes spoke.
It only took a few moments before her expression cleared. He felt her arms wrap around his waist as a familiar warm smile graced her face.
“Okaeri, Chikage.”