Work Text:
It has recently come to Ryo's attention that he is, it seems, perplexingly, a father figure to an unreasonable amount of children. Yes, that is apparently a Thing.
Ryo doesn't know who decided that all of these reckless, brave, stupid, brilliant kids should be put under his supervision but he would like a word or two with the responsible authorities. Where are these kids' parents? Who thought giving a twelve-year-old a spinning top with the necessary power to kill a man and then telling him to save the world from evil would be a good idea? Ryo doesn't actually know if any of them are twelve years old, all children look the same to him, even if one of them is his own kid. He just knows that there is no one to look out for them so he doesn't even hesitate to step up to the challenge.
Not everyone of the children immediately likes the idea of being supervised (protected). Some have been on their own for so long that they believe they can protect themselves better than any adult ever could (and he's not naming any names but he finds that Kyoya is the worst of them all). Ryo tries to respect their need for independence but- Ryo is stubborn. He'll wear them down.
Ryo knows that he finally succeeded when, one weekend in the middle of the night, he is woken by glass clinking outside of his bedroom. A glance at the too bright screen of his phone on the nightstand tells him that it is two in the morning and decidedly not the time for anyone to be surprise-visiting. He grabs Burn Fireblaze from its place on the window sill and prepares himself for whatever burglar was unfortunate enough to choose Ryo's apartment for a break-in.
When he steps into the kitchen with his launcher raised, the sight that greets him stuns him badly enough that he freezes for a good fifteen seconds. Kyoya glances at him briefly but seems to decide that he is not an immediate problem and sips calmly from his water glass. On the counter, Ryo can see two bottles of milk and the last bag of Ryo's favorite spicy sweet potato chips. The only light illuminating the strange scene is a streetlamp shining through the window and the light coming from the half-opened door of the fridge.
"Hey, dude. What are you doing here?" Ryo asks when he finally manages to unfreeze himself and lowers his launcher. He is a little embarrassed but he's not going to show it in front of the teenager who broke into his kitchen and stole his chips. He is not.
Kyoya looks between Ryo and the milk on the kitchen counter. He puts down his glass of water. "I ran out of milk," he says.
"Ah." They both pause. Ryo fidgets with his launcher and Kyoya drains the rest of his water. Ryo feels increasingly awkward. "How did you even get in?"
"The window lock is broken."
Ryo pauses, furrows his brows and throws Kyoya an incredulous look. "We're on the second floor."
"Yes," Kyoya says and doesn't elaborate further. He grabs the milk and chips from the kitchen counter and squeezes past Ryo through the doorway. "Bye. Sorry for... disturbing you."
The front door clicks shut behind him and Ryo is left staring at the wooden surface, thoroughly confused. He takes another look at the clock, sees that it's still two in the morning and decides this is a problem for his future self when he has had enough sleep and more brain capacity to think about this. He quietly mourns his chips and goes back to bed.
It doesn't take long for it to become routine.
The next time Kyoya surprises Ryo in his own kitchen, it's fortunately way past the middle of the night and Ryo is eating noodles directly out of the pot. He looks up when he hears his window sliding open and they make eye contact while Kyoya climbs in and jumps gracefully over the sink. It's not the first time Kyoya has done this since that strange two am encounter that Ryo isn't even a hundred percent sure actually happened. He knows this because in the last few days he noticed his spicy sweet potato chips going missing right after he went to buy three new bags. Kyoya stealing them is the only explanation he could come up with unless there are other people breaking into his apartment and taking nothing except for his chips and that just doesn't seem very likely.
Kyoya doesn't say anything when he opens Ryo's fridge like it's their regular Thursday afternoon, just raises an eyebrow at Ryo's noodles-out-of-pot situation. Ryo doesn't think Kyoya has room to judge considering that he's stealing from Ryo's fridge once again. Ryo is a functioning adult with adult eating habits, okay? He has to remind himself that despite his attitude and general approach to life saying otherwise, Kyoya is still a teenager. If Ryo knows anything about teenagers, it's that they're always hungry and just plain fucking weird.
He watches as Kyoya pulls out the last bottle of orange juice and chugs it straight out of the container while continuing to rifle through the fridge's contents. Exhibit A.
"I'm getting you a key," Ryo says suddenly. Kyoya barely pauses in his search for something edible that meets his standards but hums - in agreement, Ryo is fairly sure. He nods to himself, encouraged in his plans. Kyoya looks at him, sees him nodding, frowns and turns back towards his orange juice.
"You don't have any more chips, do you?"
Ryo snorts quietly at that. "No." And whose fault is that?
Kyoya purses his lips unhappily, and closes the fridge. "Buy more." He leaves the orange juice opened on the counter when he (once again) squeezes past Ryo to exit through the front door. He didn't even close the window, Ryo thinks resignedly, before going to close it himself.
The next day at the supermarket he looks at the three bags of chips in his shopping cart, struggles briefly with taking orders from a teenager, and then adds five more.
About a month later, one of Kyoya's raids coincides with a visit from Gingka. It was only a matter of time until this happened, Ryo knows this, but he still feels unspeakably weird about the whole thing. It's like two worlds that shouldn't collide colliding. It's, well, weird.
Gingka is telling him about his latest fight with Kenta, his eyes alight with excitement about the close outcome, when they suddenly hear the front door open. Gingka falters in his retelling and shoots Ryo a confused look. Process of elimination tells Ryo that this has to be Kyoya because the only other person who has a key to his apartment is Hikaru and she never shows up unannounced (as opposed to Kyoya who always shows up unannounced). He doesn't know what to tell Gingka other than shrug and watch what happens.
As always, Kyoya doesn't say a word to greet Ryo or announce his presence when he enters. They hear him rustling in the kitchen for a moment before he finally pops his head into the living room. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly when he sees Gingka.
"Hey, dude," Ryo greets him in an attempt to squash any awkwardness before it can occur. "What's up?"
Kyoya's eyes linger briefly on Gingka. It seems even he knows that this is kind of weird. "You're out of eggs," he eventually says and disappears back into the kitchen.
Gingka is staring very intensely at Ryo. Ryo squirms uncomfortably under his gaze but doesn't really know what to say to explain the situation. Yes, this is normal. Kyoya, your friend that usually avoids people but his own friends especially, steals from my fridge regularly, about twice a week. No, we haven't really talked about it. Yes, he has a key.
"Kyoya has a key to your apartment?" is what Gingka decides to focus on. "I don't even have a key to your apartment!" Okay, maybe Ryo can sort of understand why this is a concern for his one and only son.
"I can have one made for you," Ryo tries even though he knows that this isn't the actual problem. Gingka just continues to look at him, obviously weirded out.
Kyoya chooses this moment to pass the doorway of the living room with six bags of spicy sweet potato chips in his arms, one of which is held between his teeth. Gingka looks frantically between Ryo and Kyoya like he can't believe that this is happening right now, trying to discern who of the both of them is more qualified to explain this to him. It probably says a lot about Ryo that Gingka ultimately turns to Kyoya and his chips and ignores Ryo completely. Ryo gapes at his son's back but only Kyoya is in a position to see it. He openly snickers at Ryo's expression, the sixth bag of chips falling to the floor at his feet. It seems everyone is a traitor in this family.
"Are you," Ryo and Kyoya both turn back to Gingka, "are you stealing my dad? Is that what's happening here?"
Kyoya is shaking his head before the question fully leaves Gingka's lips. "No. Definitely not. You can keep him."
Ryo is so offended. He has never been insulted like this before. Inexplicably, he feels the urge to clutch his metaphorical pearls to his chest like a scandalized noblewoman, but realizes that's a tad too dramatic even for him before he can completely embarrass himself.
"Then what are you guys doing?" Kyoya and Ryo exchange a look over Gingka's head. Kyoya's eyebrows are raised almost imperceptibly. Ryo raises one shoulder then drops it back down when Kyoya frowns. Gingka is looking rapidly between the two of them, incredulity increasing. "Hello? Dad?"
Ryo straightens abruptly. "Right, yes." He turns to Kyoya. "What are we doing?" Gingka's frustrated groan quickly turns into a snort of reluctant amusement.
Kyoya rolls his eyes. "I'm going home. This is getting ridiculous." His gaze falls on the bag of chips he dropped on the floor. For a short moment, Ryo thinks he's going to ask one of them to hand it to him but then he doesn't. It's a shame. Ryo would have loved the image of Gingka holding up the bag of chips and Kyoya yanking it out of his grip with his teeth. He grins just thinking about it.
"Bye, dude. Get home safely."
Kyoya doesn't reply to that, of course, but he doesn't slam the front door shut with as much force as he could have so Ryo is counting this is as a win. When he turns toward Gingka, he is frowning at the bag of chips Kyoya left on the floor. He looks up at Ryo.
"Is that the last bag of your spicy sweet potato chips?"
Ryo stares at his son for a few seconds then puts his head in his hands. Unsurprised but mourning his loss nevertheless, he says, “Yes. Yes, that's the last one.”