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The plan is a simple and painless dinner. Just three hours at a restaurant with the love of Kaito’s life, their best friends in the world, and a man Kaito has detested since high school.
…Well, that’s a bit much. Kaito doesn’t like the word detest, it always sounds so evil. Who goes around detesting people nowadays? Supervillains. And only supervillains. Kaito doesn’t roll like that. He’s as far from evil as they come.
Resents is the better word, or maybe dislikes; it’s not that Kaito wishes harm on Rantaro’s father, or anything. That would put them in a seriously awkward position as far as trying to maintain a long-term relationship. But the man is an awful person and a worse parent, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Rantaro insists on being polite about him, Kaito would’ve thrown hands—verbal or physical—with him years ago.
All of this is to say, when Rantaro’s birthday comes around and Amami Ichirou insists on having a dinner celebration, Kaito’s first inclination is to say no. Rantaro seems to want to, too, and Kaito’s not surprised. October 3rd, while being Rantaro’s birthday, is also the birthday of the eldest biological Amami child, Mina, and Rantaro makes a point of searching for each of his sisters on their respective birthdays. It’s the only right way to celebrate them, he says, after they each got lost around the world throughout the course of their childhoods.
Thus being in Japan for a massive and extravagant birthday dinner wasn’t really on Rantaro’s agenda, and it wasn’t on Kaito’s either, as he’d been planning to fly to America with Rantaro so he could help with the search. When the invite comes, Kaito tells Rantaro to dismiss his father out of hand, but he knows as soon as he and his boyfriend make eye contact that there’s exactly zero chance in hell of that happening.
It’s… not like Kaito can exactly blame him for it. Rantaro’s always had a difficult time saying no to people, and Amami Ichirou is the sole manager of Rantaro’s finances; without his support, they wouldn’t be able to continue the search for Rantaro’s sisters. At least, not without immense difficulty. The idea of Rantaro having to sail around the world because he can’t afford flights, camping out on the streets in every location he visits, is just horrid enough that Kaito agrees to go along with it, though he does manage to coax Rantaro into convincing his father to set the date on October 2nd, rather than the 3rd. It’ll be tight, but they’ll make it to San Francisco in time for Mina’s birthday. Thank goodness.
The one plus side of the dinner situation is that Amami Ichirou gives Rantaro free reins to invite as many guests as he wants, which is how Kaito ends up piled in the back of a limousine with his boyfriend and four of his favourite people in the world. Or, well, three and a half; he still feels a bit weird calling Kokichi that, but he’s Rantaro’s best friend, and he and Himiko were a package deal, so… half. Shuichi and Kaede definitely fit the bill, at any rate.
“Shuichi’s taken me to some pretty upscale restaurants before,” Kaede is gushing, leaned over Rantaro’s shoulder to look at a picture on his phone, “but when I looked up pictures of this place, it looked totally breathtaking! Your family really goes all out, Rantaro.”
“Well, we have the means for it,” Rantaro says, with a sheepish chuckle. From anyone else, that kind of comment might have made him a bit uncomfortable, but Rantaro and Kaede are close enough (Kaito’s observed) that it seems to slide right off his skin like water off a turtle’s back. “It’s my twentieth birthday, so my father thought that warranted the fancier venue… I always feel a bit weird being the center of attention like that, though.”
Shuichi smiles sympathetically. “Let’s treat this like a regular outing,” he suggests. “I would feel the same in your shoes, so we don’t have to make a big deal about it or anything…”
“Right, right!” Kokichi chimes in, leaning so far forward in his seat that his seatbelt hits the end and snaps back, locking him in place. Himiko snickers next to him, turning away with her mouth covered. Kokichi sends a pout in her direction. “We can make it a totally normal evening, except for the part where Momota-chan gets down on one knee!”
“W-Wait,” Kaede stammers, “Kaito, you’re planning a proposal?” Her eyes shine with betrayal, the unspoken and you didn’t tell me? hanging heavy in the air.
Face flushed, Kaito sputters, “I’m not proposing! I mean, at least not tonight!” He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And if I was, you would’ve ruined the surprise, you damn brat.”
“Nishishi! You know me. They called me loose lips back in middle school for a good reason!” Kokichi puts his arms behind his neck, cheerfully ignoring the seatbelt that gets tighter and tighter every time he leans back into his seat.
Rantaro chuckles. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I buy Kaito a ring,” he says. He reaches over to yank on Kokichi’s seatbelt, pulling it hard against the lock so it loosens. Kokichi, apparently never learning, is springing forward again immediately. “I would hate for my plans to get out early, after all, even if it means I have to choose a different best man.”
Kokichi’s eyes well with tears. “You wouldn’t.”
“I might,” Rantaro replies. Unfazed, he lightly flicks the bridge of Kokichi’s nose, and only chuckles when the other man starts sobbing. Kaito can’t help but smile at the both of them, though he’s grateful for the glass that separates them and the driver. Kokichi’s crocodile tears are annoying on a good day, but they’d probably be a safety hazard in downtown traffic like this.
Fortunately, it isn’t long before they’ve arrived at their destination. Rantaro’s chauffeur, a tall, impassive man named Daichi, comes around to open the door for them. Shuichi and Kaede both thank him politely, and Himiko does the same, albeit a bit rushed as Kokichi’s pulling her fast out of the car. Kaito waits for Rantaro to get out before he follows, snagging his boyfriend’s hand and nodding his gratitude at Daichi as they approach the restaurant.
Though Kaito did not share Kaede’s forethought, he had been expecting lavish accommodations from Rantaro’s father. It’s not his style to do things halfway, after all, aside from maybe parent. Still, Kaito somehow manages to be surprised as he and Rantaro follow their friends down the gold-embroidered carpet outside the door, ducking inside the restaurant and being greeted by shimmering chandeliers, bustling waitstaff, and the faint murmur of polite conversation.
Rantaro’s father is nowhere to be seen, but the host seems to recognise them immediately, because he doesn’t ask any questions before gathering a stack of menus and leading the six of them through the restaurant. On the way in, Kaito can’t help but look around. There’s so much to see. Everyone in here is dressed semi-formal at the sloppiest; the empty tables are set with cloth napkins with golden rings and vases with fresh flowers in the centre. He only catches brief snippets of conversation, but what he hears is all decidedly ‘rich society’ talk: primarily, gossip about affairs and under-the-table business deals.
Out of curiosity, Kaito spares a glance at Shuichi, who is grimacing as he and Kaede walk side-by-side through the restaurant. As though sensing Kaito’s gaze, Shuichi’s grey eyes flicker in his direction, and Shuichi manages a tight smile.
“There, um, truly is nothing like the atmosphere in an expensive restaurant,” Shuichi mumbles. Kaito snorts.
“That’s for sure,” he agrees. “I’ve had nightmares like this before. Where I was in the middle of a crowd full of people and things I didn’t understand. Only usually they were about aliens.”
Shuichi chuckles at that, eyes crinkling with more of a genuine smile, and Kaito rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. He didn’t like seeing that chagrined look on his sidekick’s face.
The host leads them to an oak door which opens up to a private room. Inside is a long table, lined with plates and complementary water cups and silverware, and a glass chandelier twinkles overhead. Seated at the head of the table is Amami Ichirou, perfectly refined and clean-cut as always. As the group comes inside, Amami Sr. stands, eyes crinkling with a warm, friendly smile, and Rantaro pulls his hand out of Kaito’s.
The worst thing about Amami Ichirou isn’t that he’s a horrible, neglectful parent who lost twelve girls overseas and let his eldest son take responsibility. Or, well, it is. Objectively, that’s the worst. But in this moment what Kaito finds somehow even more upsetting is how uncannily similar Amami Sr. looks to Rantaro. He has the same messy-but-stylish green curls, the same piercing eyes, even the same business smile. He lacks Rantaro’s dimples and rough edges, has no freckles and grows an ugly rectangular moustache, but even the way he crosses the room is reminiscent of Kaito’s boyfriend.
It’s unnerving. Kaito is tempted to tell him to get his own mannerisms, even though he knows logically that Rantaro would have had to have picked them up from somewhere. It’s just that with Rantaro, he knows they’re benign. Rantaro isn’t always honest, isn’t always straightforward or trusting or transparent in the slightest, but he’s well-intentioned. He’s good and kind and he takes care to make sure those around him are comfortable. Even now, he allows his father to embrace him but does so with a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes sweeping the group as though to double check that nobody got lost on their walk through the restaurant.
Amami Ichirou is none of these things. Amami Ichirou is a leech, a fraud of a father who doesn’t deserve his son or any of the outrageous good fortune he’s been blessed with. Kaito has never wanted to punch someone in the face more.
An elbow digs into Kaito’s side. Kaito snaps out of his thoughts and glances down, meeting Kokichi’s eyes, which gleam under the pale light of the chandelier.
“Bet you five hundred yen he takes out a moustache comb,” Kokichi mutters. Kaito stifles a laugh and elbows Kokichi back.
“I am not betting that,” Kaito hisses. Kokichi just winks at him before he skips past, taking Himiko by the arm and striding right up to Amami Sr.
“Amami-jiichan! It’s been soooooo long!” Kokichi chirps. “I know I asked for your son’s hand in marriage when last we met, but I’ve grown now! And I’ve realised Taro-chan’s bloodline is way too weak to susta—I mean, that Rantaro has higher prospects in life than a silly ol’ jester like me.”
Kaito, moving towards the table to sit, can’t see Kokichi’s face, but he imagines it’s drawn in a smirk, his eyes crinkled at the edges and sparkling with malice. He’s always been bad at hiding his dislike once you know how to find it. Fortunately for him, Amami Sr. doesn’t seem to catch on; he releases a good-natured laugh.
“It’s good to see you again, Ouma-san,” Amami Sr. says, voice warm. “Please sit down. You’re here with Yumeno-san tonight?”
“He’s here with me,” Himiko responses, with a jutted lower lip and a thumb pointed at her own chest. Unlike Kokichi, she doesn’t bother to look anything but openly distrustful, gazing up at Amami Sr. with sullen red-brown eyes. Amami Sr. smiles at her in response. Either he’s oblivious, or just incredibly tactful. Kaito can’t decide which one would make him hate the man more.
Kaito’s thoughts are once again derailed by someone touching him, though this time it’s a hand on his shoulder as Rantaro pulls out the seat next to him and lowers into it. When Kaito looks over, Rantaro smiles. It’s nothing like the lopsided grin Kaito fell in love with; Rantaro’s smile right now is the practised, creaseless smile that crinkles his eyes at the edges oh-so-naturally. Kaito’s seen it dozens of times before, but it rarely comes out when they’re alone, and even in company, Rantaro doesn’t often put on a facade anymore.
It’s different with his father, though. Kaito stifles another surge of indignance and takes Rantaro’s hand from his shoulder, interlacing their fingers and shoving their hands under the table. Rantaro lets out a chuckle and gives a more sincere smile at that.
“Have you looked at the menu at all? Kaede’s already decided what she wants to eat.”
“Of course I have!” Kaede and Shuichi claim the seats directly across from Rantaro and Kaito while Kaede responds, eyes bright. “It’s already super impolite to be the one who can’t make up their mind ordering… imagine if I did that at such a fancy restaurant, when you’re paying for me! Geez!”
Chuckling, Shuichi remarks, “I’m sure even if you panicked and chose something without thinking, it wouldn’t be bad. The reviews for this restaurant came in quite high.”
“Only the best for my son,” Amami Sr. interjects, coming to sit down at the head of the table. It hadn’t been intentional, but Kaito is seated immediately to the right of the Amami patriarch. Just being in such close proximity to the man threatens to give Kaito hives, but he doesn’t think it would be polite to move. Damnit. “I hope you all enjoy the selection as well. I want tonight to be perfect.”
Perhaps as some sort of power play, Kokichi sits down at the foot of the table, directly across from Amami Sr., leaning back so the front legs of his chair leave the floor. Frowning, and in the position to because she’s seated next to him. Himiko puts a hand on Kokichi’s knee and pushes his chair down flat.
“You’re no fun,” Kokichi tells her. Himiko rolls her eyes. “Buuuut, I don’t think Amami-jiisan has anything to worry about! Taro-chan only chose the most well-behaved group of people, after all.” His eyes crinkle, but Kaito doesn’t bother glaring at him. Kokichi would never try and cause trouble here when he knows how important it is that Rantaro stay on good terms with his father. There’s a reason Rantaro invited him and not Miu, after all, and they’re equally as close.
“Right.” Amami Sr. smiles again, his usual placid smile. “Well, I wasn’t worried about you all, at any rate. I trust that you know how to conduct yourselves.”
It doesn’t sound like a veiled warning, but Kaito still has to consciously keep from bristling, looking down at his menu for something else to do. He hasn’t peeked over it yet, after all. He’s decently hungry, having eaten little throughout the day out of nerves, but just looking at the menu doesn’t do much for him. If it weren’t for the fact that Amami Sr. is a billionaire and otherwise just someone Kaito can’t stand, he’d almost feel bad; the menu is stock-full of delicacies like pufferfish and wagyu, just the sort of thing Kaito would feel immensely guilty if Rantaro were the one paying.
Of course, it all comes from the same account, but it’s just the principle of the thing. Kaito hastily flips to look over the appetisers and finds that, to scale, they’re not much better.
Rantaro lightly nudges Kaito’s arm, leaning in close to mutter, “How about I order something and we share it?”
Geez. Kaito’s neck warms, and he wonders if he’d really been being so obvious, or if Rantaro just picked up on it because he’s naturally astute. Probably the latter, or maybe it’s just that they’ve known each other for so long, but either way, Kaito decides that there are worse people at this table right now who could’ve noticed.
“I like that idea,” Kaito agrees. “What’re you thinking?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had matsutake…” Rantaro muses. “I try not to eat at upscale places like this without a good reason, and it’s not common that I see it on the menu.” He glances at Kaito. “Want to give it a go? I heard the matsutake rice here gets good reviews, and it should be a pretty generous serving. We can share an appetiser, too.”
Rantaro has always avoided heavier foods like red meats, so it’s no surprise to Kaito that he’s eyeballing the mushrooms. Still, like the wagyu and the pufferfish, matsutake gohan is a delicacy. It’d be a little stupid not to agree to at least sample it.
“Let’s do it,” Kaito says. He offers a grateful smile, hoping Rantaro will understand what he’s trying to communicate. Rantaro smiles back, leaning over to plant a kiss on Kaito’s cheek before he returns to flipping through his menu.
The quiet as everyone mulls over what to eat—aside from Kaede, who has already chosen, and thus devotes herself to helping Shuichi brainstorm—is a nice break from all the weighty emotions Kaito was experiencing on the drive here. It helps that Amami Sr. isn’t talking and reminding Kaito of how miserable of a person he is, of course, but the quiet itself gives Kaito some time to breathe and clear his head, sipping on his water and decompressing. He just needs to take it easy. It’s one evening. One dinner. And they’re here for Rantaro, who Kaito loves, who Amami Sr. arguably loves too; he can be normal about this for a few hours.
Kaito’s temporary reprieve is ended when the server arrives, going around and asking everybody what they want to eat. Kokichi, naturally, orders the pufferfish, which on a menu full of delicacies still manages to be the most expensive item. Even Amami Sr. seems impressed. Himiko goes more conservative and asks for a plate of tempura, though that might be out of pickiness, and Kaede and Shuichi both order the same thing, one of the mid-range items that Kaito was eyeballing. After the Amamis have ordered, the server bows and walks away, leaving the group alone once again.
“Maaaan, it’s been ages since I’ve had pufferfish! I’m totally excited.” Kokichi beams.
“You’ve had it before?” Kaede asks. Towards anyone else, she probably would’ve sounded significantly more awed, but Kokichi she merely eyes with suspicion, a knowing smile on her face. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me…”
Kokichi giggles. “Nooope! Not at all. Not when I’m the supreme ruler of all the world. I even have Amami-jiichan under my control! Ah, but that’s a lie, of course. I could never dream of puppeteering such a wildly successful company.”
“It isn’t so difficult,” Amami Sr. says, chuckling. “It does take some soft skills, but you strike me as the type to have those covered, Ouma-san.”
“Oh, I do!” Kokichi beams. “But I’m not actually interested in—”
“He wants to be a party clown,” Himiko interrupts, perhaps sensing that Kokichi intends on insulting the CEO of Amami Corp. to his face. “That’s why he couldn’t run a business.”
“H-Himiko?” Kokichi sputters, eyes welling with tears. “I thought I asked you to keep that a secret?”
Because Kaito is sitting near the head of the table, he is able to watch as everyone else turns their heads away, politely averting their gazes from Kokichi’s theatrics.
“Um,” Shuichi starts, fidgeting with a strand of his hair. “Amami-kun is actually going to be taking over as head of the company soon, isn’t he?”
For the first time in the outing, Amami Sr.’s smile seems a bit tight. Rantaro, to contrast, sits up straighter, his eyes bright with something like defiance.
“I have a few things I want to get done before that happens,” Rantaro replies. Shuichi looks at him, an eyebrow raised, but his expression quickly relaxes with understanding. Kaito doesn’t speak, but he runs his thumb over Rantaro’s knuckles. “It’s definitely in the plans, though, you’re not wrong… I just think my father’s a bit too spry to be stepping down right now. I have a lot to learn.” Rantaro winks, smiling cheekily, and Amami Sr. has the tact to chuckle.
“That you do. But I’ve always thought you learned more through doing than watching.” Amami Sr. thumbs the rim of his water glass. “To be truthful, I was hoping to get to talk to you about that tonight, Rantaro, though I hadn’t anticipated that we’d be doing it…” His eyes move, unsubtly, to the other seated around the table. They notably don’t land on Kaito, but maybe that’s fair, given that Kaito has been Rantaro’s travel—and other things—partner for the past four years.
Amami Sr.’s meaning is obvious nonetheless. Rantaro doesn’t seem to acknowledge it, again straightening his spine and meeting his father’s stare steadily.
“It’s alright. I trust them.” The words are cordial enough, but paired with the look in Rantaro’s eyes, it sounds more like whatever you can say to me, you can say in front of them.
It’s a bold move, and a smart one too, or at least it seems to give Amami Sr. pause. His smile doesn’t falter, but his gaze sweeps the table again, as though calculating what he can say. This time, his eyes do land on Kaito, and they linger for an uncomfortable amount of time. Kaito has always struggled to find a balance between assertiveness and aggression—he’s nothing like Rantaro, who is patient even when trembling with rage—but he tries to walk the line anyway as he meets Rantaro’s father’s eyes. Tries to convey, that’s right. I’m not going anywhere. Anything you say to Rantaro, you say to me too.
Eventually, Amami Sr. looks away. His smile relaxes into something more serious.
“I was thinking about your future,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “Today is a day for celebration, of course. You deserve to relax and enjoy your transition into adulthood. But because you are turning twenty, I thought it would be appropriate to talk about how things should change going forward.”
Rantaro’s brow has begun to furrow, though his expression remains placid for the most part. Kaito squeezes his hand either way, hoping to remind him that he isn’t here alone.
“We can talk about that,” Rantaro says slowly, though from his tone, it’s clear he isn’t quite so open to negotiation. “What did you have in mind?”
Amami Sr.’s head tilts to the side. He looks like he’s contemplating the best way to word something. The silence isn’t nearly as tense as Kaito thinks it should be, but that’s only because he’s pretty sure he knows exactly what Rantaro’s father wants to say. It’s never been any secret how Amami Sr. has felt on the matter of Rantaro’s sisters, after all, or how much he really cares about bringing them home. It’s nauseating to think about—those are his children— but to try and ignore it would be ignoring the fundamental reality of Rantaro’s situation.
“I was hoping you would spend less time overseas,” Amami Sr. finally says. “I feel it would be in our family’s best interests if you devoted your attention to the business, going forward.”
And there it is. Kaito has to look away, unsure of what kind of face he’s making as anger boils inside of him. He’s never been good at masking his emotions. Across the table, Kokichi’s features have gone completely blank. Himiko stares at Amami Sr. with her jaw slacked. Kaede is scowling, looking about ready to go over there, and Shuichi rests a hand on her shoulder, though his own eyes are hard. Seeing their reactions stirs something in Kaito, and he has to look away, staring down at the table and taking a few deep breaths.
In Kaito’s grasp, Rantaro’s hand is shaking.
“You say less time,” Rantaro starts, in a tone which sounds determinedly level, “but when you say you want me to devote my attention to the business, it sounds like you don’t want me to spend very much time out of the country at all.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Amami Sr. denies. “After all, as my heir, there will still be plenty of travelling involved as one of your responsibilities. But the frivolous trips—”
“Frivolous?!” Kaede exclaims. She stands so quickly that Shuichi is apparently unable to stop her; when Kaito looks over, she’s affixing Amami Sr. with an ugly look. “Those frivolous trips your son is taking overseas aren’t for pleasure, Amami-san! You have to know that—”
“I understand my son’s intentions,” Amami Sr. interjects, lifting a hand. He seems unbothered by the interruption, though his brow his furrowed slightly as though in annoyance. “But life moves on, Akamatsu-san. Those who refuse to move with it will be swept away in the currents.”
It’s such a flippant way of putting his lack of care towards his daughters, Kaito is almost stunned. The room falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop. For a moment, it’s almost not a question of whether someone will snap, but of who will do it first.
“Ah—well.” Shuichi’s voice cuts through the silence. He stands, putting a hand on Kaede’s quivering shoulder. “W-We should really, um. Go. I’m sorry, it isn’t our business to sit in on this kind of conversation.”
“Nnn… us too.” Himiko rises, sending a nasty look over her shoulder before taking Kokichi by the arm, tugging him out of his seat. Kokichi lets her, but he’s watching Amami Sr. with a dangerous expression, a smile frozen on his face as one of his eyes twitches. He’s probably about a few seconds away from snapping completely, so Himiko is wise to get him moving.
Rantaro doesn’t speak. His gaze on Amami Sr. is stony, but not distraught. If anything, there’s a quiet resignation to him, a resolution in his eyes and in his posture, like he’s been waiting for this for a long time.
“I understand, Father,” Rantaro says, voice flat but quiet. “I’ll—”
“Hey, Amami,” Kaito finally speaks, tearing his gaze from his boyfriend and focusing it on Amami Sr., releasing Rantaro’s hand. “Clench your teeth.”
Kaito barely even feels in-control of actions after saying that, barely registers anything but the chair clattering behind him and his fist whizzing through the air until it collides with something solid. There’s a sickening thunk, and then a clatter, and when Kaito can see again, he sees that he knocked Amami Ichirou flat on his back.
The utter shock and disgust in Amami Sr.’s face, previously so put-together even when taken aback, is almost gratifying for a second until Kaito’s other senses return too. There are arms around his chest, holding him back from doing it again, and someone is shouting. Someone is laughing, too, though that at least Kaito can identify as Kokichi; no one else in here would laugh so openly at Kaito committing actual assault.
The realisation should horrify him. It’s horrified in him in the past, when he’s come back to reality after losing his temper, but right now all Kaito feels is an odd weightlessness. Somewhere in there, he identifies concern for Rantaro, but none of it really feels real. Kaito is barely even here, only tethered by the arms wrapped around him, just about to float off into space.
That is, until Amami Sr. speaks and he comes crashing back down to earth.
“You…” Amami Sr. touches his cheek. It’s already starting to turn purple. “To think that my son would bring someone like you to a place where people eat.” His eyes narrow and his gaze lifts, focusing squarely on Kaito. His face is contorted, ugly, but not in the way where Kaito wants to hit it again; he recognises that look well enough that he only feels a shiver run down his spine. “Momota-san… you’ll come to regret doing that.”
That one, Kaito recognises as a threat. He swallows, opens his mouth to say something cool and defiant in response, but Rantaro beats him to the punch.
“He won’t.” Rantaro’s arms leave Kaito, but only so he can step around in front of him. “You’re going to leave him alone.”
Amami Sr. blinks, frowning up at his son. “And why would I?”
“Because Kaito didn’t hit you. I did,” Rantaro responds. “I got tired of you spewing shit about my sisters, so I hit you. There are four witnesses here who can testify.”
“Hmmm… yup! That was definitely Rantaro,” Kaede chimes in. “And I can’t really blame him. I would’ve hit you too.”
“What a pain…” Himiko sighs. Kaito imagines her pulling down on her hat. “When I get upset at my parents, I always just go back to my room… but maybe that wasn’t an option in a place like this.”
Kokichi giggles. “Now me personally, I love a good ol’ familial beatdown! Which one of you is gonna throw the next punch? Are you going to take it home, Rantaro-chan? Or maybe Amami-jiichan is going to show you what’s what?”
“Amami-kun could get in serious trouble for hitting his father, Ouma-kun,” Shuichi chastises, though it’s hard to take the stern tone seriously when he’s lying too. “I would lay off the jokes for now.”
“Boo! None of you here are any fun.”
Rantaro ignores the last part, leering down at his father. “See? So you and your lawyers can’t do shit to Kaito. It was me.” He pauses. “If you want to pursue legal action, go for it. I might as well not be your son anymore after today, anyway, because you’ve lost it if you think I’m giving up on my sisters.”
He grips Kaito’s wrist, turning around and starting back out towards the door without so much as a glance over his shoulder. Kaede, Shuichi, Himiko, and Kokichi all file out of the room ahead of them, but Kaito slows, turning back to look at Rantaro’s father.
Amami Ichirou remains prone on the floor, seeming almost… bewildered. Kaito can’t really blame him, not after a speech like that from his son, who to Kaito’s knowledge has never stood up to him before, but… well, it’s not like he feels bad. Not even for the hitting, though his knuckles are a bit sore.
The six of them pile out of the restaurant. Nobody speaks until they’re about three blocks away, at which point Kokichi throws back his head and laughs, walking backwards so he can look into Kaito’s face.
“Oh man, Momota-chan! I dunno why I didn’t expect you to hit him!” Despite his strict anti-violence policy, Kokichi seems more gleeful than anything. “That was great! Did you hear him sputtering? Like nobody’s ever hit him before!”
Shuichi cups his chin. “Well, I would imagine they hadn’t… it takes a special kind of recklessness to stand up to a person like him.”
“Or courage!” Kaede points out, beaming. “Kaito, that was awesome. I wanted to hit him too, so I’m really glad you did it!”
The praise—from Kaede in particular—makes Kaito blush, ducking his head and rubbing his neck. “Uh… well, thanks, but…” He glances at Rantaro, frowning. “I dunno if I actually ended up doing anything good. I just… got so mad, listening to him talk to you like that, and then you having to play nice like he wasn’t insulting everything you’ve ever worked for…”
Rantaro meets Kaito’s eyes. A crooked smile comes onto his face. “Don’t worry about it,” he says quietly. “I was impressed by your restraint, really.” His free hand comes around to cup Kaito’s cheek. “I doubt he’ll let me disown myself. He needs me as much as I need him, no matter how much he likes to act like he holds all the cards. In a few days, he’ll reach out, and things will go back to how they were before… though maybe we’ll have to avoid putting you two in the same social function for a while going forward.”
“After a dinner like that, I dunno how anyone’d wanna go to dinner with your dad…” Himiko mutters.
“Fair point,” Rantaro admits, shrugging. His smile falters. “If anything, I… should apologise to you all.” He looks down. “I shouldn’t have let you hear any of that. But I knew he was going to ask, and I knew if we talked about it alone, I’d end up getting talked into something I didn’t want to do. I—” Rantaro winces. “I know it’s ridiculous, but he’s still my father, and I—”
“Hey,” Shuichi says, gently. He reaches over to touch Rantaro’s arm. “It’s not stupid. It’s impossible to stop loving a parent on command, no matter what they do.
Some of the tension eases from Rantaro’s shoulders. “Right,” he agrees, albeit quietly. “But he made me so angry back there, trying to threaten Kaito… it gave me the courage to actually give an ultimatum.” He offers Kaito a wry smile. “I shouldn’t have put you into that kind of situation, though.”
Kaito hums. He leans over, kissing Rantaro’s upper lip and mumbling, “Don’t be sorry. I’d sock your dad for free. I just didn’t think it’d help anything.”
“That still remains to be seen, I think,” Kokichi snickers. “But at least Taro-chan’s home free for the moment. You know, if you’re tired of sleeping in stinky Momota-chan’s bed, you could always crash at our place for a couple days.” He nudges Himiko’s shoulder. “We have a guest room.”
“Mm.” Himiko nods. “But you’ll have to share with my tiger.”
She (and Kokichi) both refuse to elaborate on whether it’s a real tiger or a fake tiger whenever the elusive creature comes up in conversation. Kaito wouldn’t take his chances, and from the look on Rantaro’s face, it’s clear he’s thinking the same thing.
“That’s alright,” Rantaro says, chuckling. “I like how Kaito’s bed smells.”
“Ooookay, this is getting gross,” Kaede decides. “Let’s just keep it moving here! We should still go out somewhere to eat—I mean, we’re all here, right? We’re all even dressed up!” She does a little twirl so her pink skirt will flare. Shuichi applauds politely.
“I’m game for that.” Kaito grins. “What about somewhere cheap and not too greasy?”
Shuichi reaches for his phone. “I’m sure we can find something relatively nearby…”
As the others discuss food options, Rantaro hangs back, keeping Kaito back too by virtue of their joint hands. When Kaito looks at him, he sees that Rantaro has a pained smile on his face.
“I’m sorry for all the trouble,” Rantaro says quietly. “You warned me, and I didn’t listen. I just really thought this dinner would pass smoothly, but if I’d known…”
Kaito shakes his head. He stops walking, letting go of Rantaro’s hand in favour of cupping his cheek, his other hand moving to pull him in by the waist. He keeps the kiss brief, not wanting to lag too far behind their friends, but still holds it long enough to get his message across.
When he pulls back, Rantaro’s self-deprecating look has been replaced by a softer smile, his eyes gooey in the way they often get after Kaito kisses him. Nailed it.
“No trouble’s too much when it’s you,” Kaito responds. “Like I said, I’d do it again for free. I’d do it a thousand times if you asked.”
Rantaro laughs. “Well, maybe we don’t have to go that far.” He cradles Kaito’s jaw in his hand and leans back in, kissing him sweetly, and Kaito sighs into it, his eyes closing. Their noses brush as they both pull away. “But thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Kaito whispers. “More than anything.”
“Mmmm. Alright, sap.” Rantaro’s eyes twinkle. “Let’s go catch up with our friends before they ditch us here, yeah?”
Now laughing too, Kaito lets Rantaro pull him along, speeding up a bit so he won’t drag. He feels warm and tender inside, stomach full of happy, relieved butterflies. Even with all the uncertainty of tonight, Kaito… can’t help but feel a bit hopeful, too. Maybe things will be better for Rantaro now, as far as his dad is concerned. And if Amami Sr. decides he truly doesn’t want to talk to his son again…
Then they’ll figure it out, together. Just like they always do.