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“You know we aren’t real.”
Daiki scoffs. Refuses to look behind him.
He should, of course, keep Kuuga and Kivala tucked into the back of his deck with Glaive.
A healthier person would, but Daiki knows himself better than that. He’s not a healthy person. He’s a thief playing supervillain to keep the past from eating him alive.
And yet here he is. Confronted by them.
He just had to get trapped in suit while in a moment of weakness. At least usually he can still control who he summons!
…Or de-summons, in this case.
(He thinks of Stronger, oh so recently. A man so trapped in grief he would travel the multiverse to ensure each version of his partner died, just so he could claim the death of Misaki Yuriko was necessary.
He thinks of Tsukasa, curling in on himself as he projects a being of power, a man confident and bored and morally grey on a good day. He thinks of the dichotomy of the cold gaze Tsukasa wears like a shield and the broken one he wears, alone with Daiki but looking away as though sure Daiki would run from such feelings.
He thinks of how Tsukasa is probably right.)
(He wonders how many others like them there are, and how all these grieving souls who can’t move on might rank up against each other.)
“Of course not,” Daiki says. “Unfortunately for me, I want this treasure.”
He refuses to look at them, but he can imagine the way Yuusuke rolls his eyes, the way Natsumi reaches out her hand and then thinks better of it.
These aren’t Yuusuke and Natsumi, not really, but… at least he’s going in with help.
“How are you?” Kivala asks.
“Not great, if I’m summoning you two,” Daiki says, standing back so Kivala can hand her sword to Kuuga, who shifts to purple and cuts through the vines blocking their path, his sword much more adept than Natsu— Kivala’s rapier.
“We figured,” Kuuga snarks. “Path ahead should be safe. I’d offer myself as shield, but…”
…But that’s how Yuusuke died. Protecting Daiki. And then Natsumi died protecting Tsukasa, when he went mad with grief, and now Daiki barely ever talks to Tsukasa, becoming they both blame each other (and secretly blame themselves), so all they do is fight, or they fuck each other stupid, so that they can be close without their arrogant words getting in the way of how they need each other.
(…Daiki leaves before Tsukasa can wake up and cause the arguments to start up, again.)
“Oh, go ahead,” Daiki says. “I already got the real one killed. What’s one more?”
“Daiki…”
“It’s okay, Kivala,” Kuuga says. “Let’s go.”
“I always hate how real you are,” Daiki says. They’re almost there.
“It’s because we know you, Daiki,” Kivala says. It’s as though she still has Natsumi’s eyes that bore into the damn soul and refuse to leave.
(Daiki still laughs fondly at the memory of Ichijou’s shaken expression when Daiki said Kuuga was easily the least terrifying power which lived in the Hikari Photo Studio.
Natsumi and Tsukasa’s unholy gazes full of dreaded fates were always worse.)
“I know that,” Daiki says, pausing to grab the passcode from pocket space. “Doesn’t make it less strange.”
“Just steal the curse of immortality healing potion, Daiki,” Kuuga says. “I don’t want you hurt.”
“I only need this because Tsukasa used my new Perfector,” Daiki says. “Aaaand there. We’re in.”
“Heists are surprisingly fun,” Kuuga says.
“I know, right?”
“Natsumi was the first one to do one, though,” Kivala says smugly.
Kuuga shrugs. Daiki follows suit.
“Fair enough.”
They get out, and it’s time to leave this World. Daiki feels refreshed like never before. He turns away from Kuuga and Kivala.
“Well then,” he says. “See you next time.”
“Daiki,” Kuuga says. “Wait.”
Daiki pauses. Turns.
“Please go home,” Kivala says. “Move on. Maybe with Tsukasa, if you can.”
Daiki looks away.
“Tsukasa blames me,” he says. “For all of this.”
“You know he really blames himself,” Kuuga says. “I’m sure the real ones would agree. We want you to move on.”
Daiki finally deransforms, taking them with it.
He doesn’t want to talk to phantoms about the future. Even if…
(Even if he knows they’re right.)
It… has been a bit since he visited the photo studio. Maybe he should… go care for the crypt that used to be a home.
Maybe…
Maybe he should go home.