Chapter Text
“I’M GONNA KILL HER,” punctuated Shin Tsukimi’s entrance into the male counselor’s cabin, accompanied by the slam of a door and the petty stomping of feet.
Keiji Shinogi only sighed. “What happened this time?”
“That little bitch completely embarrassed me in front of the campers! I got laughed at by a kid in a furry costume, Keiji. A kid in a furry costume.”
Keiji suppressed a chuckle as he rose from his seat, crossing the cabin floor in a few swift steps. “You guys had two weeks to interact, you’re just gonna have to get used to her by now. Besides, they’re just kids, they’ll forget whatever she said in a few minutes anyway.”
Shin let out a series of grumbles verging on profanity into his scarf and Keiji couldn’t help but laugh. “Erm, out of curiosity...what exactly did she say about you?”
Shin lowered his scarf enough for the words to be clear. “We were going around doing introductions and she didn’t even let me do mine! Told all the kids that all I do is just sit around on my computer all day!”
Despite his best efforts to stifle it, Keiji let a laugh slip out. “Not really a lie, though, is it?”
Shin could do nothing but let out a sputter of betrayal. “Well, yeah, but she didn’t need to be so blunt about it! The whole point of being a counselor is so that the kids can respect me, what the hell do I do now?”
Keiji shook his head. “Shin, it was one conversation. The kids’ll think you and Sara are funny, and that’s it.”
“Easy for you to say,” pouted the young man with teal hair. He let his gaze travel meaningfully across the blond man’s body, lingering on his bulging biceps. “You’re, like, the walking definition of manly. Nobody would even think twice about respecting you!”
Keiji smirked. “Well, if you care about it that much, there’s nothing stopping you from getting some exercise, is there?”
Shin let out a squeak of derision. He’d only known the policeman charged with ensuring the campers’ safety for the two weeks of training required of the counselors, but he’d made the stupid decision to lie about how much exercise he got every day. Of course, Keiji, who was practically a mountain of muscle, had seen through his lie within two seconds and had been giving him shit ever since. “Jesus fuck, you’re just as bad as Sara.”
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“Where’s Shin?” Sara Chidouin whispered as she gestured at the gaggle of campers following her lead. After she’d poked a little bit of fun at him he’d rushed off claiming to need the bathroom, but after 5 minutes of absence, the junior counselors had decided to continue the tour of the campgrounds without him.
“I dunno,” muttered Joe Tazuna, Sara’s boyfriend, in response. He’d already managed to entertain the campers with a few silly faces and dumb jokes, but after a bit, the kids grew tired of his shenanigans. (Joe had also tripped over at least three rocks, and none of those times were intentional, but they got the kids to laugh so he played along and brushed it off like it was nothing).
Undoubtedly, such stupid behavior from anyone else would’ve produced only dismissive stares, but there was something about the energy and unadulterated joy Joe radiated that made it impossible not to be cheered up by him.
“Ya sure you weren’t too harsh, Sara?” He ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair as he spoke. A few of the kids had commented on its unruliness (with a few harsh remarks from a pink-haired girl with eyebags) but he’d brushed it off as a stylistic choice.
“Oh, c’mon, it was just a joke,” Sara grumbled. “He’s a grown-ass man, if he can’t take one little joke then he’s gonna be a pretty shitty counselor.”
A girl with bright red and blue hair (Anzu Kinashi, their fellow junior counselor) elbowed her way in between them, giggling all the while. “No way he’s gonna make it through all four weeks here. What d’ya wanna bet he’s gonna give up after two days?”
Though not quite as energetic as Joe, Anzu was far from lacking in charisma. She’d proclaimed herself to be a part-time clown, dressing up as one and going to events in her free time. As to be expected, this fascinated the children, and she’d promised to do their makeup at some point during the camp.
“C’mon, guys, he could be back any minute,” Ranmaru Kageyama reminded them, “and then all our asses are gonna be on the line. As much as he doesn't deserve it, he does have seniority to us after all.”
Ranmaru was the most subdued of all the junior counselors, a pale and bandaged boy with fluffy white hair akin to a sheep’s. Unfortunately for Shin, though, even the quietest of the teenagers was still pretty sassy. He was capable of biting remarks, and their rarity made them all the more scathing.
“So, where we goin’ next?” Joe cheerfully interjected, nonchalantly slipping his hand into Sara’s and making the girl blush bright pink. They’d been dating for about four months now, and at first Joe had been incredibly anxious about contact. It was almost funny, that the boy who’d gladly bear-hug anyone who even so much as looked like they needed a hug was so easily flustered by the prospect of hand-holding, but there was probably a decent difference between hugging a friend and hugging a girlfriend.
Of course, the two had gotten past the barrier of hand-holding and hugging, but they’d yet to kiss and were content to keep it that way, at least for the time being.
Their relationship was built off of jokes anyway; in their first year of high school, Sara had been a loner. Without a kendo club to keep her distracted and without any friends to call her own, she’d pretty much retreated from everyone and thrown herself into her studies- that was, of course, until a cheery boy slammed himself down next to her on the bench at lunch one day and peppered her with a variety of questions.
She’d done her best to try and shake him, but much like a puppy, once Joe Tazuna decided he wanted to be friends with someone he wouldn’t take no for an answer- even if getting a 'yes' meant quite a bit of teasing once their friendship solidified. Eventually, the two would befriend another girl, Ryoko, who unfortunately was tutoring summer classes elsewhere.
The three were like peas in a pod...but two of those peas were unmistakably drawn towards each other, and with a little push from the third pea (who wasn’t blind and had known those two idiots were pining for each other for the longest time) became more than just friends.
“I think we oughta take them down to the lake?” Ranmaru suggested, his calm voice snapping Sara back into reality.
“Sounds good to me!” Anzu chirped.
“Alright,” said Sara, giving Joe’s hand a gentle squeeze. She raised her free hand. “Ok, kids, we’re going to the lake now! Follow me, single file!”
As they marched along, a young boy shoved his way up to the front. He’d already seemed to single out Sara and Joe, calling them “big sis” and “big bro” respectively.
Sara had to admit she’d never seen a kid dress the way he did before- a bright orange cape, a mask obscuring his mouth, what looked like a tail peeking out from his shorts, and a stuffed cat clasped between large paw mittens whose expressions seemed to inexplicably change to reflect his mood.
“Hey, big sis Sara (woof)!” Cried the boy, Gin Ibushi his name was. “I gotta question for you and big bro, meow.”
“Go ahead,” Sara smiled, happy to be of help.
“Okay, meow!” Gin beamed. “My question is…who’s Joe?”
Sara’s blood went cold, and she locked eyes with the boy whose hand was in hers. She had a decision to make.
However, before she could entertain the boy, Anzu beat her to the punch.
“JOE MAMA!” She exclaimed, and the entire line of children burst into laughter, Gin chief among them.
Sara leaned up against Joe, already done with their shit, but Joe only chortled and patted her head.
“Goddamnit, this is going to be harder than I thought.”
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The last place Reko Yabusame had expected to end up was a summer camp for little kids, yet here she was.
Samurai Yaiba had been disbanded for years and her new band was underperforming severely, so for a little bit of cash (and under threats from her therapist) she’d signed up to help some kids improve their music skills over the summer. There was no harm to it, really, but this was nothing more than another distraction to help her run from the inevitable.
“You can’t blame yourself for what Alice did,” her therapist would constantly reassure her. “He made the decision all on his own, he knew what the repercussions would be.”
“I know all that,” Reko would reply, over and over, every time the conversation inevitably came up once every three or four sessions. “I just wish I coulda done somethin’ for him, y’know? I ain’t sayin’ what he did was right, but he must’ve had a reason! He’s my older brother, we’re s’posed to be there for each other, but whatever pushed him to kill that dude...I wasn’t there to help him or talk him out of it, or…or beat the shit outta that dude so Alice wouldn’t’ve had to!”
“Reko.” The therapist would always resort to her softer voice, which could have been soothing for most people but just had a way of getting into Reko’s head and making her grind her teeth in frustration. “You have to understand that you’re adults now. A healthy relationship between siblings is always commendable, but at some point, you can’t always rely on your sibling to take the fall. I’m sure Alice knew that.”
“Of fuckin’ course he did, he’s always been the smart one!” This was when Reko would explode. “But I did jack fuckin’ shit and now he’s gonna rot away inside a goddamn jail cell!”
“Reko, what he did was wrong. Do you understand me? Alice messed up, but you have to accept that he did that of his own volition. You are not to blame for this.”
And so Reko resisted at first. She didn’t want to believe her therapist, didn’t want to believe that Alice could murder someone, no matter how horrible. He’d always had a flair for the dramatics, but the minute anyone called him out on anything he was reduced to a sniveling and apologizing mess. Certainly not the type to murder anyone.
But after a while, the therapy sessions and the lack of contact got to her.
Maybe Alice was capable of murder after all.
Maybe Alice was in the wrong.
She should hate him for what he did to her, to the family, to Samurai Yaiba.
And as the months turned into one year, then two, Reko gradually lost her connection to and faith in her brother, and as a result in the rest of the world. She threw herself into finding a new band to work with, into her songwriting, but nothing was seeming to work and the few people she let in beyond surface-level were commenting on how lacking in spirit she was.
So, eventually, she walked into her therapist’s office only to be greeted with her therapist spinning the desktop screen around to show her an employment listing for a music instructor at a summer camp.
“You need a break,” her therapist had declared. “A new environment, surrounded with other people, is gonna improve your mental health tons.”
At first, Reko had complained, but eventually, she gave in, took the required courses, applied for the job, and was accepted.
She didn’t regret it, either; all the counselors were cheerful and friendly (though the gaudy kid who seemed to glow as a result of his bangles and hairclips got on her nerves at times), particularly Nao Egokoro, the young college student who was serving as the art tutor. She leaned toward the nervous side, but she always had a bright and chipper smile for Reko and would engage her in conversation whenever given the opportunity.
All things considered (especially Nao), this summer camp might just be exactly what Reko needed.
Suddenly, a gentle knock sounded from the door. “Um, Reko, excuse me?”
The sweet voice was unmistakably Nao’s, so quiet and kind in comparison to Reko, who couldn’t help but sound loud and brash no matter how hard she tried to pipe down.
“What is it?” Reko hollered in response.
“Sorry to bother you, but there’s someone up in the front who wants to see you? I think they might be a new counselor or something.”
Reko was perplexed, but she sprang away from the box of instruments she was still busy unpacking and opened the door. Nao’s round, smiling face, framed by fluffy pink hair, grinned up at her. Nao, kind soul that she was, had been trying to make herself useful wherever possible, running small errands for everyone at the camp. This hadn't gone unnoticed by Reko, who welcomed any new opportunity to chat with the art student.
“Someone here to see me, eh?” Reko asked, striding out of the room with the shorter artist in tow.
“Yeah, they just showed up all of a sudden. Very insistent for some reason, dunno what their deal is.”
“Any idea what they look like?”
The two hurried through the winding hallways, headed for the lobby of the rec center where the smaller classes were taking place.
“Oh! They had really weird hair, it’s like...split down the middle?”
“Split...down the middle?” That sounded oddly familiar.
“Yeah, one half of their hair is blue and it’s completely covering their right eye, and the other half is...yellow and pink stripes? Much more shaved, though. I swear, people these days have the weirdest hairstyles…”
Reko wasn’t listening to Nao anymore, as much as she loved the sound of her voice. That hairstyle was way too specific for it to be just anyone, but there was no way he could be there. No fucking way in hell.
The two women rounded the corner and Reko stopped dead in her tracks, paralyzed at the sight of the man standing before her. His hair was exactly as Nao had described it, and somehow exactly how Reko last remembered it. And the smirk on his face, bitchy but with self-consciousness underneath, was all too fucking familiar.
The smirk disappeared quickly, though, replaced by an awkward unease. “Erm...I...hello, Reko.”
Reko was at a loss for words, quite a rare sight. She stuttered and stumbled, finally getting out only a name.
“Alice…?”