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Chinen Miya is a talented skater. The kid skates with the fluidity and confidence of a professional skater – which he is – and he’s got an ambitious drive to practice for hours until doing a trick is as easy as breathing. Though he’s never skated against the teenager, Kojiro acknowledges his talent and skill and has always enjoyed watching whatever beefs Miya got himself into at S.
For a while, that was the extent of what Kojiro thought of Chinen Miya. Never once did he think it was going to be anything beyond his performance as a skater at an underground illegal skating experience that Kojiro himself co-founded.
Then, all of sudden, Kojiro – and by extension Kaoru – found themselves to be part of a mismatched group of skaters that consisted of a very persistent trio of minors and three barely functional adults. As it seems, Chinen Miya is one of the very persistent trio of minors.
Now, Miya is a piece of work. The kid – as Kojiro quickly learns – is bratty, sarcastic and always has a comment for everything. The kid is unusually small too for his age but that could be because Kojiro is just really stacked.
At least that’s what Kaoru says when Kojiro makes a passing comment about the thirteen-year old’s size over dinner.
“His stature is fine, you’re just an overgrown muscle ape.” Kaoru dismisses him with a sip of his white wine. Tonight, it’s chenin blanc , gifted by one of Kaoru’s many affluent clients. Apparently, the client also left a love note of some kind that the calligrapher had scowled at before he neatly folded it and tucked under the wine glass.
He didn't glance at it at once, much to Kojiro’s amusement (and satisfaction).
It’s almost 2am now, and they both had just returned to the restaurant from another eventful night at S. It was Miya versus one of the other regular skaters who held herself pretty well against the Japan's national team candidate. Miya, of course, had taken the win but not without sporting the cutest blush when his competition good-naturedly congratulated him with a pat on the head.
Miya had reacted less kindly when Reki pointed out his blush, punching the high schooler on the gut which started off a mini brawl session until Hiromi finally pulled them apart.
See? Eventful.
Rolling his eyes, Kojiro reaches over the counter and steals one of the fries served in front of his friend. Despite how he looks, Kaoru is not one to really look after his diet well and would eat even in the middle of the night. One look at him once they entered the restaurant and Kojiro immediately went to get the fries ready.
“You’re defending him because you were the same size as him at that age too.” Kojiro retorts.
“And?” His old friend raises an eyebrow. “I turned out perfectly fine, didn’t I?”
“Debatable.” Kojiro mutters under his breath, ducking in time when Kaoru grabs the rag cloth on the table and throwing it at him. He gets back up again with the most shit eating grin he can muster, cackling at the scowl etched on Kaoru’s face. It truly never gets old.
“But I’m serious though.” Kojiro insists, grabbing the rag on the floor. “Miya needs more meat in that body – that diet of his is gonna stunt his growth and he’ll be a little runt the rest of his life. No one wants that.” The kid barely reaches Kaoru’s shoulder!
Taking another sip, Kaoru contemplates the other skater’s words before he hums, deep and thoughtful. His eyes glaze over just a slight as if he’s recalling distant memories. “His diet is a little too strict.” Kaoru mutters. “He didn’t even finish your burger the other day.”
“See? You gotta talk him into eating more protein.”
“And why must it be me? I’m sure Shadow can do all the nagging – he’s basically their babysitter already.”
A sigh. “He listens to no one but you, Kaoru.” Kojiro reminds him.
That has the other man pausing. There’s a cute expression flickering on his face, a cross between surprise, confusion and annoyance. Kaoru throws a warning glance at Kojiro over his wine glass but falters when he finds that Kojiro isn’t actually joking about it, face dead serious.
He shifts on his chair, clearing his throat while his eyes land everywhere but on Kojiro.
“I’m sure that’s untrue.” Kaoru scowls. “Besides, Miya is hardly a child anymore. Surely, he can make his own decisions especially regarding what he feeds himself.”
“He’s a thirteen-year-old that’s barely eating half his weight under the guise of a professional diet. It’s dangerous for his long-term growth and health, Kaoru.” Kojiro says, serious and firm.
And he means it. Kojiro has seen the food Miya eats and they could never provide the right nutrients if the young skater truly plans to go professional. It unsettles him a little because Kojiro knows if any of his nephews tried to maintain such a ridiculous diet, he’d be livid.
Kaoru remains silent, eyes downcast as he digests Kojiro’s warning. Finally, after what seems like forever, the AI skater heaves a deep sigh and nods. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”
He doesn’t move his hand away when Kojiro squeezes it over the counter, smiling down at Kaoru in gratitude. It goes unsaid anyway, his quiet your welcome when his fingers tangle with Kojiro’s before they slip free and disappear between the sleeves of his yukata.
A couple of days later when the trio stops by the restaurant before opening hours, Kaoru is already there as usual and with a stern look directed at the youngest.
“What?” Miya snaps, narrowing his eyes because he can’t exactly outrightly glare at the calligrapher unless he wants to summon Kaoru’s wrath.
(The kids, thank god, are smart enough to take Kaoru’s short temper seriously and know not to push his buttons too much. The same can’t be said for Kojiro and most importantly, Hiromi).
“I have a deal for you.” Kaoru simply announces, nodding his head at the seat beside him for Miya to take. Reki and Langa are already in their usual booth, though it’s obvious they’re listening in to the conversation. But they’re soon distracted when Kojiro drops a freshly made margherita pizza in front of them, the smell wafting through the restaurant and triggering their grumbling stomachs.
Good , Kojiro thinks, before he makes his way next to Kaoru.
Sullenly, Miya takes the seat because he knows he has no other option. His eyes are still narrowed in suspicion though because he’s never known to be agreeable.
“What kind of deal?” He demands.
“One for your benefit.” Kaoru replies. “CARLA, please send the diet plan I prepared to Chinen Miya’s contact.”
“Yes, Master.” The AI thrills, lighting up in purple hues from around Kaoru’s thin wrist.
Immediately, Miya’s own smartphone pings with a new notification which he promptly checks. The confusion on his face is so blatant that Kojiro has to bite the bottom of his lip to hold in his laughter.
“From now on, this is your new diet. It takes in account the exact calories someone your age and stature need as well as the nutrients. I recommend complete adherence to this diet as I will check the progress monthly.”
Miya, for the first time since Kojiro has known him, is speechless. He glances back and forth between Kaoru, Kojiro and his phone before a resigned sigh leaves him.
The look he shoots them both is unamused, at best. “You both do know you’re not actually my parents, right?”
Something inside Kojiro jumps at the remark but Kaoru is undeterred. He squints down at the skater. “We are still adults who care deeply for your well-being, Miya. And this diet is meticulously planned by yours truly to ensure that you remain perfectly healthy for your professional skating career. Is that not part of your plans?”
Miya pouts. “…Yes.”
“Exactly.” Kaoru smiles, smug and triumphed. It quickly shifts into softness and he gently nudges the boy with his shoulder. “But as I said, there’s a deal. If you successfully follow this diet by the end of the month, I’ll allow you one favour.”
“A favour? Of any kind?” Miya perks up.
“If it’s within my means and it’s nothing ridiculous.” The calligrapher clarifies.
It’s a fascinating thing to witness, Kojiro discovers, the way the sullen petulant slouch of Miya’s shoulders immediately shifts, and how his eyes lighten up in excitement until the smile he often hides breaks through his indifferent façade. It reminds him a lot of a younger Kaoru, if Kojiro really thinks about it.
Biting his lips, Miya’s eyes quickly dart to Kaoru’s hands. He takes a deep breath.
“I want to skate with CARLA.”
The restaurant falls into silence. Distantly, Kojiro thinks he can hear Reki choking in the background while Langa generously slaps him on the back. Ultimately, his eyes are on Kaoru, cataloguing the way his thin eyebrows raise in surprise and settling into a slight furrow.
Seconds pass, maybe hours who knows. Kaoru's eyes are locked with Miya’s, both of them daring each other in a silent stony battle.
At last, Kaoru sighs. In defeat, huh.
“Fine.” He agrees. “You get to skate with CARLA but only for two hours, max. Deal?”
“Deal!” Miya beams, kicking his legs in excitement. He extends his hand out for a shake which Kaoru primly accepts and then he’s off, pushing himself to Reki’s side of the booth and reaching for a pizza slice. It’s a small size but at least he’s eating it.
Smiling, Kojiro leans over the counter to catch Kaoru’s eyes. His face is impassive but Kojiro has known him for decades and he instantly recognizes the relief and smug dancing in the other man’s golden orbs, eyes turned up into gentle crescents as Kaoru hides his smile behind a graceful bite of his meal.
Kojiro laughs softly under his breath and pours another glass of ice lemon tea for Kaoru.
It starts then, really.
Miya is a stubborn little worm at best who likes to pretend he’s too cool for people. But his cold façade melts under the presence of Reki, who seems determined to pull a reaction out of the kid with endless teases and affection; Hiromi, who screeches and nags at him but would drop everything if anything ever happened to Miya; and surprisingly Kaoru, who he secretly (or so he thinks) stare at with stars in his eyes and blushes when the AI skater compliments him for his skating.
And it’s not completely one-sided. Kaoru is, if one were to look closely, ridiculously soft on the kid. If Miya does annoy him, he’d simply smack him with his fan and move on unlike the threats he’d throw to Reki and Langa. If Miya has a beef, Kaoru chats less and observes more - eyes not leaving the skater until he reaches the finish line, unscathed.
And Kojiro definitely sees the happy glint in Kaoru’s eyes when Miya extends the same enthusiasm for CARLA's technology to him, and entertains his nonstop questions every time they meet up.
Kojiro honestly thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.
When he decided to drop by Kaoru’s place that evening, Kojiro didn’t expect to see another familiar face in the calligrapher’s living room, whose eyes widened in surprise before they swiftly turn into suspicion, narrowing when the taller man walks through the front door.
Kojiro, whistling, stops. He stares back.
“What are you doing here?” He squints, slipping off his sandals before placing them neatly on the shelves lined up against the wall.
He had sent Kaoru a text that afternoon, telling him he’d bring dinner over tonight, a meal he had been craving to make for a whole week. His mind makes a quick math if the portion he made would be enough for three people and decides, promptly, that yes it does.
Kojiro wonders whether he should be a lot more peeved that he might need to share Kaoru with someone else tonight.
One look at Miya’s peering eyes over the couch and he shrugs the thought off.
Walking in, Kojiro pauses behind the sofa, ruffling the teenager’s hair before glancing at the TV screen. It’s playing a western action flick, one with car chases and a female lead with a slit on her dress, showing off a lot of bare skin. Miya huffs at his tousled hair, pulling the hood of his sweater over his head.
He scowls up at Kojiro.
“I’m watching TV.” The young skater replies, the same bored drawl in his tone. “What are you doing here?”
Kojiro raises the paper bag in his left hand. “I brought dinner.” And it smells damn good too, if the way Miya is sniffing the air like a starving stray cat is any indication. The laugh Kojiro lets out is quiet but amused, raising the paper bag higher in the air when the teenager tries to grab it.
“Now where’s Cherry? I hope he’s aware that a small gremlin broke into his house.” Kojiro couldn't help but tease. He heads straight to the kitchen, snickering at the pure offended look plastered on Miya's face from the couch.
Angry stomps follow him through the hallway, the younger boy hissing, "I'm not a gremlin!" at his back. Kojiro cackles. It genuinely feels like being hissed by a tiny black kitten.
His friend's kitchen is of course spotless and Kojiro moves around the familiar layout, placing the bag on the counter before he opens the fridge. The heavenly breeze of the refrigerator against his skin is extremely delicious. It’s been a hot day and the ride to Kaoru’s place had his shirt sticking to his body, sweat dampening his back.
Thank goodness he’s got some spare clothes here.
Scanning the contents of the refrigerator, Kojiro hums in approval when he sees that Kaoru’s got enough ingredients for him to make a salad to go with dinner. He turns around when Miya hops on the kitchen island, retorting, “Also, it’s not breaking in if he was the one who opened the door for me”.
“I only opened the door for you because you said you needed to use the bathroom, Miya. Not for you to extend your stay.” Comes Kaoru's deep drawl, appearing at the kitchen doorway with a raised eyebrow, still dressed in his yukata.
He also has Nana cuddled up in his arms, the Abyssinian purring loudly beneath his chin, blinking wide hazel eyes.
" You have a cat?" Miya gasps.
Immediately, he jumps down from the kitchen island to make a beeline straight to Kaoru's side, peering curiously at the feline. Tentatively, he extends a single finger out. His lips break into a huge smile when Nana actually licks the finger, giggling at the sensation.
“What’s its name?” Miya asks, softly as if he’s afraid he’d spooked her if he spoke too loudly. Which is sweet really although Nana is the least timid cat Kojiro has ever met. If anything, she’s extremely shameless.
Kaoru must have been mirroring Kojiro’s thoughts, however, because when Kojiro glances at him, he’s smiling amusingly down at Miya. “Her name is Nana. She just turned two.”
“Nana.” The younger boy whispers, completely entranced. “She’s so cute .”
“Indeed.” Kaoru replies.
Biting back a content smile, Kojiro excuses himself out of the kitchen, brushing past Kaoru with a quiet whisper. Kaoru, eyes still on Miya and Nana, nods wordlessly and jerks his head upstairs. Kojiro takes the hint.
By the time he’s back downstairs in a brand-new shirt, Kaoru has deposited the fat feline into Miya’s arms, who looks extremely pleased. It’s also a comical sight to see him trying to hold Nana, who easily weights 5kg.
He doesn’t stop his laughter this time and joins Kaoru by the sink.
"And where were you, four eyes? I was beginning to think you moved out and that midget there took over your place."
"Had a sudden phone call from a client.” The calligrapher answers distractedly. His attention is on his CARLA tablet, fingers quickly typing out a reply with a frustrated look on his face, running a hand through pink locks. “It’s the weekend and yet they still insist on calling me even though Ayumi had scheduled an appointment for next week. It’s ridiculous."
“You do have the option to ignore them, you know?” Kojiro points out.
Kaoru, predictably, ignores his sensible suggestion. He mutters a quiet fuck under his breath, glaring down at the screen and typing furiously on the keyboard. Kojiro doesn’t take it to heart – he’s grown accustomed to listen to the calligrapher complaining about his clients over the years.
He instead gets working on getting dinner ready since it’s almost 6pm already.
"Anyway, I brought dinner like I promised. Just let me make some salad to go along with it and we're set."
"Do whatever." Kaoru huffs, still focused on replying to his client until finally, his fingers hit send and the email is sent. Groaning, Kaoru leans his head against his kitchen island, hiding his face between the pink curtain that is his hair.
Kaoru wallows in his misery for a few minutes before he eventually lifts his head to squint at the floor where Miya is scratching Nana’s belly. "Miya, are you done snooping around and finally ready to leave my lovely abode?"
The teen freezes and actually pouts. "I want to play with Nana, though."
"You can play with her and have dinner with us after you inform your parents your whereabouts." Kojiro interjects over his shoulder, hands deep inside the sink as he rinses the fresh ingredients for their appetizer. "I’ve made enough for the three of us.”
“What's on the menu tonight?" Kaoru asks. He finally gets up and is moving around Kojiro to grab the plates and cups from the cupboard.
Nana has successfully escaped from Miya’s grasp, running off into the living room. Miya, bored, reaches for the paper bag on the counter to take a sneak peek of the content.
“It’s lamb chops." Kojiro proudly announces. "The Nanjo family version. Which is the best lamb chop version ever existed, by the way.” He informs this to the youngest in the room.
Kaoru hums in appreciation. “It's true."
He gets Miya to feed Nana her dinner while he sets the dining table ready, and then prepares a jug of cold water while he’s at it. Once the salad is done – which really took 10 minutes for Kojiro – the lamb chops are served and the three of them find themselves seated and ready for dinner.
It’s a surprisingly nice dinner even with the unexpected guest. As Kaoru laughs at a snide remark Miya makes about his schoolmates, Kojiro realizes that yeah, he doesn’t mind sharing Kaoru at all if it meant he could see more of the content glow emitting from Kaoru.
He wonders, idly, if this is what the future looks like.
“Oh, Nanjo-san! Are you here for Sakurayashiki-san?” One of the nurses greets him when he steps inside the unit, smiling up from the clipboard she’s got in her hands. Her tag displays the name Yuri and Kojiro recognizes her as one of nurses that’s been attending to Kaoru’s needs since he was admitted five nights ago.
Kojiro grins, warm and naturally flirtatious, as he jerks his head at the empty bag in his hand. “Here to pick up his royal highness once and for all.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” the nurse laughs, “But I’m afraid you need to wait a little longer. Sakurayashiki had to do some final check-ups with the doctor. Once that’s settled then you’re both free to go, okay?”
“Oh, I see. Well then, I’ll just wait inside his room, is that fine?”
“Of course! But I believe there’s someone else waiting too.” She smiles mischievously at his confusion but before she could explain herself, another nurse calls for her attention and she leaves with a quick wave at Kojiro.
Well then , Kojiro thinks. He shrugs it off and strides towards Kaoru’s room, situated at the farthest end of the corridor. Even though it’s been days, the smell of antiseptic is still a little jarring for his sensitive nose.
He genuinely cannot wait to not return to the hospital more than necessary.
Finally, Kaoru’s room comes into view. The moment Kojiro enters the room, though, his steps immediately falter.
He blinks, once, twice - gaping at the sight. Because across the doorway right beside the hospital bed, a certain thirteen-year-old is curled up on the couch, his game console laid forgotten on the floor.
Ahh, that’s what she meant.
Leaning against the doorway, Kojiro lets his eyes settle on Miya, who is completely passed out. His chest rises and falls with every breath and his head is tucked against his knees. The couch is by no means a large one but the way Miya is curled up on it, it looks somewhat big since his position is barely taking half of it.
Kojiro wonders how long the kid has been waiting like this.
He has no idea how long he stood against the doorway, eyes never leaving the innocent sleeping figure on the couch when the familiar thrum of CARLA stops right behind him, jostling Kojiro awake from his reverie.
He looks down and there he is. Kaoru, bandaged up and pale and sitting on the wheelchair version of CARLA, but sporting that familiar scowl. As always.
"Kojiro." Kaoru greets, wheeling at the doorway of the room with the help of one of the nurses. He gives a quiet thanks to the nurse before turning back to Kojiro, eyes demanding for questions. He isn’t surprised that Kojiro is here, since Kojiro did text him prior to arriving.
“It seems like you’ve got a visitor already.” Kojiro simply comments, glancing at the couch. He knows Kaoru finally has his questions answered when a quiet surprised exhale slips past his pale lips, eyes following Kojiro’s gaze.
Glancing sideways, Kojiro notes the way the lines on Kaoru’s eyes immediately soften, wheeling himself into the room and stopping just at the edge of the sofa. Slowly, he picks up Miya’s game console from the ground, dusting it off with a sweep of his hand.
He hands it wordlessly to Kojiro who places it on the small bedside table.
"What a stubborn brat.” The calligrapher sighs. “He arrived right before I had to see the doctor so I told him not to wait up. And now look who's fallen asleep on the couch…"
“Can’t blame the kid. That couch is damn comfortable.” This Kojiro knows from experience.
The first two days Kaoru was admitted, he had practically been living on the same couch, only leaving the room if he needed to get some food or check up on Kaoru’s business and his restaurant.
Thankfully, Kaoru’s gotten the green light to discharge by tonight. They had agreed, albeit with a lot of resistance and reluctance from a certain pink haired skater, that Kojiro would be staying with Kaoru for a couple of days. Just in case Kaoru needed help.
Like hell he’d let Kaoru depend on some machine when he’s right there, he had argued two nights ago, glaring and unmoving against the other man’s frosty look. Eventually he won because as stubborn as Kaoru usually is, he also knows Kojiro well enough to know when to give up on a fight.
And if Kaoru kisses Kojiro’s tears away as an apology, well, it’s only between them and them only.
Grunting, Kojiro takes a seat on the edge of the hospital bed. The longer he looks at the kid, the sadder he feels. Besides himself, Miya has been the most faithful visitor of Kaoru’s. The kid even drops by after school, shy but stubborn, holding a small bouquet of carnations and Hiromi by his side the first day he visited.
But as much as it sucks for Kojiro, he knows Kaoru feels even worse. The wheelchair bound patient is now staring out the window. He looks deep in thought, and Kojiro fears they’re not the good ones. The downturn of lips confirms it.
Kojiro clears his throat. “He’s worried, you know? We all are but no kid should have seen what happened that night. I think he might be a little traumatized."
Shoulder tensing, Kaoru stiffly shifts in his seat. He still won’t really talk to Kojiro about the stunt Adam pulled, still closed off and reluctant. And in truth, Kojiro understands. Talking about things makes it real, and when it’s real, it opens a chasm of betrayal, hurt and anger that they’ve worked so hard to keep a tight lid on.
They say they’ve moved on but who are they kidding? They’re skaters after all and skaters have always been known to be idiots.
Taking a deep breath, Kaoru rolls his eyes rather dramatically as if to dismiss Kojiro’s explanations. He waves his left hand, and says, “Regardless, a boy his age shouldn’t concern himself over me. I’ll be fine.”
I have to be , his tired eyes say.
Kojiro hums. That night had been rough, he doesn’t blame Kaoru for refusing to indulge himself in those memories. Kojiro himself had been frazzled with the situation and he owed it to Hiromi for helping him get Kaoru to the hospital, Miya catching up as soon as he could after his race against Snake.
His lips curl into a sad smile at the memory of Miya holding tightly to a certain AI skateboard, standing helplessly in the middle of the hallway. It slips out before he could stop himself. “Did you know he took good care of CARLA?”
A pause. “Did he?” Kaoru cocks an eyebrow.
“Yep. Didn’t let go of her once until we could finally see you. Even then, I don’t think he wanted to leave her unattended until you woke up.” Kojiro chuckles, the image of the young skater stubbornly pouting down at CARLA when Kojiro told him to go home, still fresh in his mind. “He looked like a tiny skinny bodyguard.”
When Kojiro glances at Kaoru, the other man is silent, eyes locked on his young visitor. He hums in acknowledgment at Kojiro’s story, a tired smile at the corner of his lips. Using his uninjured hand, Kaoru slowly and gently cards his long fingers through Miya’s dark locks, reminiscing of the gentle sway of his brush on a parchment.
His eyes are bright, brighter than they've ever been the entire time he’s been trapped in the hospital. When Kojiro looks closely, he recognizes that Kaoru’s golden eyes are burning up.
It’s the same fire that flared up when Kaoru first succeeded his Ollie when they were younger, the same fire when he got that scholarship to Taiwan, the same fire when he grabbed Kojiro’s hand on the balcony of their hotel in Vienna and Kojiro squeezed back.
It’s determination and hope, rekindled in the gold molten of Kaoru’s soul, small but burning nonetheless. A whisper settles into the crown of Miya’s hair. “Good boy.”
Kojiro smiles. Yeah, we’ll be alright.