Work Text:
The contact that lights up his phone is far from strange, but no less of a surprise when Kazuha glances at the brightened screen.
Shikanoin Heizou reads in clear white letters, accept and decline flashing in green and red below that. Kazuha’s hand pauses for the briefest moment where it had been moving to place down his chopsticks.
Across the table, Mona glances at him through a mouthful of strawberry shortcake, perceptive as always. “Everything alright?” she asks as his phone buzzes again, rattling against the wood noisily. Kazuha glances towards her briefly.
“I’m not sure,” he answers carefully, setting his chopsticks down on his plate with a soft clink. His phone buzzes again and this time turns both Aether and Ayaka’s heads, to which he offers a reassuring smile and picks up the device.
Heizou doesn’t typically contact him while at work, unless it’s a slow day and there’s little else to do; which, even then, always occurs through texts and never phone calls. Actually, now that Kazuha thinks about it, Heizou hasn’t texted him for a couple of days now. Even though he had notified him of his return to Inazuma as soon as he got off the plane, there had been no response—which he hadn’t thought anything of, figuring he was probably just engrossed in a case again.
He swipes the green button to accept and presses the phone against his ear. “Heizou?”
There’s a crackle, a bit of a scuffle, then a voice that he vaguely recognizes but cannot place crackles through the line. “Kaedehara Kazuha,” it says.
Immediately, Kazuha is on guard. “Who is this?”
“Kujou Sara,” the voice answers. Kazuha relaxes slightly, though the tension doesn’t seep completely from his body. If Heizou’s boss is the one contacting him from Heizou’s phone, then that can’t mean anything particularly good. “Are you currently in Inazuma City?”
“I am, yes. Why?”
“Good.” There’s a bit of noise in the background, then a loud bang. When Kujou speaks again, her voice is further away, as if she had pulled the phone from her ear and is shouting in the other direction. “Shikanoin, touch that coffee maker even once and it’s desk work for a week! Uesugi, get him back to his desk before he breaks something.”
There’s a brief chatter, then Heizou’s familiar voice in the background, talking so fast that Kazuha hardly deciphers each sentence. “Oh come on, Madam Kujou. What are you, my babysitter? I’m fine! Hey, is that my phone? Why do you have my phone? Who are you talking to? Aw, I totally forgot to claim my daily rewards from Candy Crush today! Give that back!”
“Uesugi!” Kujou snaps. There’s a bit more shuffling and lots of noise. Kazuha can hear shouting in the background, Heizou’s voice mixing with that of another, deeper one. Her voice returns, closer now. “Apologies. Seeing as you are the first on Shikanoin’s emergency contact list, I found it fit to call you. Please come pick him up.”
“What—” Kazuha starts.
There’s a shout, then Heizou’s voice rises above the rest of the chaos. “Hey, are you drinking this?”
Kujou hisses in annoyance, the noise coming out distorted and crackled over the line. “Shikanoin!” she shouts again. The call ends abruptly.
Kazuha pulls the phone away from his face and stares at the screen blankly.
“... Everything okay?” Mona asks again, a little more hesitant this time. Briefly, he wonders how much she’d heard, before smiling apologetically and rising from his seat.
“I have to go,” he announces to the group. Ayaka doesn’t question it, only waves with a pleasant smile as he rifles through his wallet for some bills and places it where he had sat. “Thank you for the food, I’m sorry to cut our time short.”
“Be safe,” Aether calls as Kazuha grabs his coat off his chair and strides out the door. He waves over his shoulder in return, and the door shuts behind him with a soft jingle of bells.
The drive over to Heizou’s precinct should be around fifteen minutes from the restaurant he had been in. Kazuha makes it in seven.
Kujou Sara is waiting near the entrance when he steps foot into the building, her arms crossed and irritation etched into her scowl. Relief relaxes her expression when she catches sight of him. She uncrosses her arms and nods, and Kazuha nods back in return.
“Is Heizou alright?” he asks once he stops in front of her.
Kujou’s expression betrays nothing but vague irritation and the barest hint of concern, and he notes the faded bags beneath her eyes that tell of busy days and sleepless nights. “He’s done it again,” she says simply with an out of character grimace, and that single sentence says everything that Kazuha needs to know.
He inhales sharply and releases the breath in a sigh. “Thank you for calling me then,” he says softly.
Kujou purses her lips and makes no response to that other than another terse nod. She turns and begins to lead him further into the precinct. Kazuha follows behind quietly, the back of his neck prickling uncomfortably.
He still isn’t completely comfortable inside the building, not after the short period of time where he had been the prime suspect of a murder case that had made its way onto the news. Heizou had, thankfully, proved his innocence (which in turn led to their meeting), but it doesn’t change the discomfort from prickling his skin.
What’s past is past, though. Kazuha has moved on from that time, traumatic as it had been, and doesn’t like to linger on it.
When they emerge from the hallway and into the office area, Kujou veers right. They hardly get ten steps in before a familiar head of velvet pops up in Kazuha’s peripheral vision, bee-lining towards them at light’s speed.
“Kazuha!” a delighted call echoes through the precinct.
Beside him, Kujou sighs.
Kazuha barely has enough time to turn before a body comes flying at him. He raises his arms in reflex and stumbles back, nearly tipping over from the force of the momentum, but manages to stabilize himself as firm legs lock around his waist and arms curl around his neck.
“Kazuha!” Heizou chirps again, talking so fast that he doesn’t even pause for a breath. “You’re back, you’re home! Why didn’t you text me? Oh, you were the one that Kujou called, weren’t you? I knew it! When’d you get back? Did you come to help me with my cases?”
“I did text you,” Kazuha replies calmly, glancing at Kujou Sara out of the corner of his eye. She gestures for him to follow and he does, still letting Heizou cling to him and ignoring the stares from the other Doushin as they stroll through the offices. “I got back two days ago.”
“You did? Oh, I didn’t see. I must’ve forgotten to reply. Ah, wait, that’s not right, I’d never forget to reply. I’ve been busy! I haven’t checked my phone. Sorry!”
There’s an apologetic peck on his cheek. Heizou is so jittery in his arms that Kazuha can feel him vibrating, and when Kujou stops at the desk that he assumes—correctly, judging from the lack of organization and the sheer amount of paperwork strewn over the surface—is Heizou’s, he grimaces at the countless amount of empty mugs scattered around, coffee brown rings staining the top of most, if not all of them.
“It’s alright,” he responds. He pauses, then asks carefully, “How much coffee have you had?”
“I don’t know, I lost count after the sixth cup!” Heizou answers cheerfully. “I’ve been busy, you know? Solving cases, doing things. Ah, there’s been so much work lately! I went to Watatsumi island a couple of days ago, do you wanna see my pictures?”
“I’d love to see them later. When was the last time you slept?”
There’s a long pause. Heizou seems to be thinking rather hard about the question, which says enough on its own.
“He’s been here for three days straight,” Kujou says when the silence stretches on too long.
“Oh, that’s right, huh,” Heizou says. “I was about to say that, actually, but it’s fine. I feel great! I can do another case or two! Or three!” He starts to wiggle in an effort to get down, but Kazuha doesn’t release him.
“You may complete them after you sleep,” he says firmly. “For now, we are going home, okay?”
“Ah, but—” Heizou begins to struggle.
“You’re cleared for the rest of today and the next two,” Kujou says without skipping a beat. She looks relieved. “Take him home, Kaedehara.”
He sends her a thankful smile and makes a mental note to buy a gift for her in thanks. What would a hardworking person like her enjoy? She’s only ever been stoic and professional every time he’s encountered her. Oh, actually, according to Lumine, she’d once encountered her in a boba store near the city center. A week's worth of boba gift card, perhaps, Kazuha muses as he strolls out the precinct, Heizou still curled around him like a koala.
He bundles Heizou into the passenger seat of his car, locking the seat belt around him securely. Heizou complains all the way, talking about how he could definitely do a bit more work. Kazuha shushes him gently with a hand through his hair as he shuts the door and loops back around towards the driver’s side, sliding into the seat and patting his bouncing thigh reassuringly.
Heizou talks the entire drive to his apartment, jumping from topic to topic with hardly a breath in between. Kazuha lets him ramble, and it doesn’t take long before he's parked the car and they're heading up the steps to Heizou’s apartment.
Once he digs up the spare key that he knows Heizou keeps under the potted plant there, he unlocks the door and steers Heizou towards the couch, setting him down with a new round of Candy Crush before heading off to the bedroom. The place is a mess for the most part, nothing too bad but not exactly neat. It’s clear that no one has been here for a couple of days, judging by the droopy state of the plants by the window in Heizou’s room. He tugs open the blinds and digs through the drawers for clothes, folding each article into a pile that he places in the bathroom.
When he peeks back into the living room, the owner still looks entirely engrossed in the task of playing Candy Crush.
“Heizou,” he calls, and the guy’s head snaps up fast enough to get whiplash.
“Oh, Kazuha!” Heizou says brightly. “You wanna see my score?”
“Sure.” Heizou bounces up from his seat and practically skips over, shoving the phone into his face so enthusiastically that Kazuha has to lean back just to see the large number written below a large colorful banner that says ‘COMPLETE’ in cartoony letters. “Well done,” Kazuha praises, even though he has no idea what the numbers mean, and Heizou beams wide. “Will you come bathe now?”
He hums and thinks about it for a bit before agreeing, thankfully, and so Kazuha fills up the bathtub for him, helps him undress and wash his hair. He finally seems to be calming down now, if only a bit, humming happily and rocking side to side as Kazuha sits on the side of the tub and rubs shampoo into his scalp, the water sloshing with the movement.
It’s almost a routine by now. Kazuha would honestly prefer it if it was not—not because he dislikes taking care of Heizou—but because these periods of Heizou overworking and depending so heavily on sugar to function properly is unhealthy.
He may seem like a carefree spirit at first glance, but he’s incredibly hardworking and cares a lot about his job, and this often bleeds into a habit of not taking care of himself the way he should be.
Not that Heizou is very good at doing that in the first place. And there are lots of factors that go into that particular habit; again, like his sense of justice, an undercurrent of self-hate hidden beneath an egotistical exterior, constant thoughts like if I wasn’t fast enough to save him I can be fast enough for someone else and every second I’m not working someone in Inazuma is suffering.
Of course, Heizou has never openly confessed to any of this. But Kazuha is nothing if not observant, adept at reading people due to his constant traveling to other nations.
By the time he steps out of the bathroom to let Heizou dry and dress himself, Heizou has begun to look much less hyper than he had before, probably from the calming effect of the warm water. The beginnings of what will be a brutal sugar crash, Kazuha muses as he makes his way towards the kitchen. Rifling through the fridge and pantries produces little else but a small tray of raw meat, some scallions, cilantro, and other vegetables.
After a bit of thinking, he decides on fried rice. An easy dish to make with the limited ingredients in Heizou’s kitchen. After setting the rice cooker up, he moves on to preparing the rest of the ingredients, washing and chopping up the scallions, then frying the meat.
He hears the door to the bathroom open and shut, then a sound of one of the chairs at the table sliding out. When Kazuha turns around after scooping the steaming fried rice into a bowl, Heizou is slumped over on the table, head buried in his arms. The sugar crash must be kicking in, then. Kazuha smiles fondly as he slides the plate across the table with a spoon.
“Eat, please,” he says softly.
Heizou groans, but after a moment lifts his head out of his arms and reaches for the spoon. As he eats, Kazuha sets about cleaning up the kitchen, putting away all the utensils and washing the dishes.
A mumble from behind as he’s setting the last of the dishes into the dishrack to dry makes him pause, turning his head slightly to peer at Heizou out of the corner of his eye. “Hm?”
There’s a beat, then a thud as a forehead makes contact with the wood table. “M’head hurts," Heizou mumbles, voice so quiet that Kazuha has to listen carefully to hear them.
“Did you finish your food?” he asks, wiping his hands dry before making his way over. A soft ‘nuh-uh’ is muffled out and when Kazuha peers into the bowl he sees it’s half full. Deciding that the rest can be saved for when Heizou wakes up from his inevitable nap, he picks it up to put it away.
Then, he jogs over to the bathroom and begins rifling through the cabinets. Thankfully, there’s a small, nearly empty bottle of Tylenol there that he finds.
Heizou is still in the same position when Kazuha returns, cheek mushed up against an arm covered by soft gray hoodie sleeves and eyes shut, breathing out slowly.
Dark eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones when Kazuha lays a gentle palm on his back and he stirs, rising up to let the medicine be dropped into his palm.
Kazuha had been about to retrieve a glass of water when he dumps the pills into his mouth and swallows easily. “M’tired,” he sighs immediately after, resting his head back on his arms, and looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.
He smiles softly. “Let's get you to bed, then,” he suggests, and Heizou lets himself be picked up without any protest, hooking his legs around Kazuha's waist and curling his arms around his neck and burying his face into his neck. Warm breaths are breathed into Kazuha’s skin and soft lips brush against his collarbone.
As gently as possible, he sets Heizou down on the bed, watching as he instantly relaxes into the mattress and presses his face into a pillow, another sigh—this one sounding content instead of exhausted—leaving his lips.
Kazuha straightens and is about to walk away when a hand catches his sleeve. He stills and looks back and Heizou is staring at him.
“Stay,” he asks, and it's a question phrased like a demand, breathed out with poorly disguised uncertainty.
The hand holding his sleeve is shaking, Kazuha notices then. From the sugar crash or something else?
“Stay,” Heizou repeats, when the silence draws on too long. “Please.”
“I was never planning to leave,” Kazuha murmurs, reaching down to brush hair out of sharp green eyes. “I just need to get some things first, okay? It won’t be long.”
Heizou peers at him, scrutinizing and calculating in the way that he always gets whenever he's working on a case, a long moment passing before the fingers curled into his sleeve release and his hand drops back down to the bed.
“‘Kay,” he mutters into his pillow. Kazuha smiles fondly and swipes a thumb over his cheek, just under the mole that lays beneath his eye, and watches as he closes his eyes and leans into the touch.
No noise is made when he finally draws away. Kazuha gazes at the sight for another moment before slipping out into the hallway.
When he returns, it’s with a glass of water in one hand and a book stolen off Heizou’s shelf in the other. He plops himself down on the other side of the bed, adjusting the pillows to his liking, then opens the book in his lap.
Beside him, warm breaths fan out across the side of his thigh when Heizou shifts a tiny bit closer, so subtly that if he were anyone else perhaps he would hardly even notice.
“Sorry,” Heizou mutters, eyes shut, so low that Kazuha almost misses it. “M’sorry.”
He is quiet for a bit, then shifts his book to his right hand so that he can settle the other in Heizou’s velvet soft hair. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything,” Kazuha tells him gently. “It’s alright.”
“No it’s—it’s just…” He breathes out a frustrated sigh, shifts a little more forward so that his forehead thuds against Kazuha’s thigh. “You shouldn’t… have to take care of me like this. It’s—embarrassing. And a waste of time.”
“Being with you is never a waste of my time,” Kazuha says. He brushes his thumb above Heizou’s brow and watches as one green eye cracks open to peer at him, most of his face hidden into his pillow. “I’ll be with you whenever you need me. I just wish you’d take better care of yourself.”
“Mm,” Heizou grunts, for lack of better words. He shuts his eyes again and turns his face into his pillow completely, and Kazuha pretends like he doesn’t notice the dusting of red that has begun to stain his cheeks.
Instead, he just smiles, pats Heizou’s cheek fondly, settles his hand back in his hair and lets silence fall over them.
Heizou falls asleep quickly after that. Kazuha listens to them even out and slow. He combs gentle fingers through his hair and smiles at him fondly and thinks again, whenever you need me, I’ll be here.
Judging by the way Heizou subconsciously clings to his hand when he attempts to draw it away, bringing it close to his face close enough for his lips to brush against Kazuha’s knuckles, he doesn’t quite understand this yet.
Thankfully, Kazuha has all the time in the world to reassure him.