Chapter Text
In retrospect, Mika had no idea why he'd thought he should wait at the airport instead of at home.
Well, no, that wasn't true. He'd leaped out of bed at sunrise, raced around the apartment a few times, scrambled to clean up the microscopic speck of dust that'd dirtied the counter, then hurried off to his idol work. It had kept him blessedly distracted for most of the day, but once he'd gotten home, Mika had thrown himself through the shower and taken the next train out to the airport.
It was the most coherent he'd been for almost a week. Without the haze of delirious excitement, Mika knew exactly why he was here: he had to see it. He had to be here when the plane landed, or else he'd start to believe that he was still asleep, still dreaming. That their promise wasn't real.
Mika sucked in a shaky breath and bounced on his heels a few more times. It did nothing to ease the excitement seizing his body.
A week ago, he'd been in France, enjoying the final day of a weekend trip. Usually, Mika would've mourned such a short visit after two months apart. This time, his melancholy had been completely and utterly eclipsed when, as they sat in the pavilion overlooking Lac de Créteil, Shu had gently touched his wrist.
“Mika. Do you remember your last visit?”
Mika had frowned. “Sure,” he'd replied, confused. Of course he remembered that trip; it'd been the first time he'd sung with Shu in years.
“Did you... truly mean what you said then?”
A thrill of the same jittery hope Mika had felt then, amplified by Shu's soft voice and the privacy of nighttime by the lake, raced up his spine. He hopped in place and only felt a touch of embarrassment when a few passers-by shot him bemused looks. What did they matter? The nearest digital clock read 19:53 P.M., and-
Mika's phone vibrated.
He nearly leaped out of his skin (this time, he did flush at the curious looks thrown his way) and hurriedly fumbled his phone from his pocket, praying to whatever god might be listening that this was the text he'd been praying for.
New message from Shu.
Oh, gods, please. With trembling fingers, Mika tapped on the notification.
Shu: I'm disembarking now. My luggage is at Terminal 12, so I'll meet you there.
Mika's body lurched into action before his brain even registered the words. Suddenly, he was flying through the airport, frantically scanning the overhead signs and directionals. Terminal 33... 32...
Gods, he couldn't believe this was happening. Mika almost wanted to pinch himself, but that would require slowing down, and there was no chance in hell he'd do that now. He was so close. So close to that secret, selfish desire he'd buried in his heart for three long years.
Terminal 27. 26.
Mika had thought their infrequent visits would've taught him patience, but the past week had been unbearable. Each day had dragged on and zipped past, giving him no time to breathe and too much time. Mika hadn't lived with anyone in years, not since he'd moved out of the Seisoukan Dorm. Back then, he'd always felt stifled and antsy, even though it was only Ritsu.
Funny how things changed.
14. 13.
He'd wanted it so badly but never dared to hope. And now...
Mika's phone buzzed again, but he didn't even try to slow down; his heart was punching through his chest. He all but skidded around the final corner and gasped in a breath. Belatedly, Mika realized he should've walked instead of sprinted so he'd look mildly presentable. But that didn't matter; he was in perfect shape and needed to make sure this wasn't a dream.
The crowd parted, and Mika's frantic heartbeat slowed to nothing. He was floating, barely connected to his body, the air punched from his lungs.
There, next to the luggage carousel, stood Shu Itsuki. He was painfully out of place in the evening airport traffic, like a model plucked off their runway yet still dressed to perfection. Pink hair swept neatly across his forehead (newly trimmed, it looked like), and dark eyes flicked back and forth across his phone. Shu only had one bag slung over his shoulder, and his whole body slumped with exhaustion.
But he was stunning, and he was here.
Mika knew he should wait, check to make sure his more obsessive fans hadn't followed him or gotten wind of Shu's return. But Mika's body was out of his control, and he flew forward on wings of desperation and exhilaration and love.
Shu looked up.
And he smiled a hello.
Mika remembered just in time not to tackle Shu, and he awkwardly stumbled a few steps before wrapping the taller man in a tight hug. As always, a voice in the back of his head hissed at him for being so physically open. He was acting like an idiot!
As always, Shu hugged him back just as fiercely, dragging Mika a step closer. Mika went without complaint, and equal parts relief and delight pierced his heart at Shu's possessive hold. For the first time since Mika had left Paris, his heartbeat finally started to calm. The adrenaline drained away; the jitters ebbed into a glow of contentment. Slowly, surely, Mika relaxed.
It was real. Shu was back in Japan.
The taller man exhaled sharply, and Mika jerked back to attention, his brain finally shaking off the last of its daze. He pulled back a little, but only enough to examine Shu's face. Up close, the other man was clearly suffering from jet lag. He was trembling, too, and Mika frowned.
“Are you alright?” As soon as the words were out, he regretted it, and a hot flush seared across his face. “No, no, wait, that's not the first thing I wanna say to you,” Mika mumbled. “But I already- aah-”
Shu chuckled warmly, interrupting his rambling. “Your mouth always runs away from you when you're excited,” he noted, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Were you that anxious for my return?”
Part of Mika wanted to protest the gentle teasing, and the other part wanted to admit the truth: of course he had been. Shu's return was all he'd wanted for so long.
Mika went with the safer option.
“I know I ain't as well-spoken as you,” he mumbled, a little more petulantly than he cared to admit. “You don't hafta point it out.” Still, the fondness in Shu's eyes chased away his residual embarrassment, and Mika finally allowed his eager smile to break through. “I was gonna bring flowers, but they were kinda messy, and I didn't know how much you'd have with you.”
This time, he realized he was rambling and stubbornly clamped his mouth shut, lest he embarrassed himself yet again.
But it looked like he'd already blundered since Shu eyed him for a moment, a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth. “Flowers?” he echoed. Mika couldn't fight the blush. Oh, he wouldn't survive a week at this rate. “Well, I appreciate your consideration, but I value the sentiment more. Should we get a bouquet on the way home?”
Home.
“Yeah,” Mika said breathlessly. “Yeah, 'course.”
He suddenly remembered how they were traveling and glanced around for any other bags. There were none, save the bag still slung over Shu's shoulder. After the moment, the taller man seemed to catch on to his confusion.
“I already contacted ES and asked them to send a driver to pick up the rest of my luggage. I donated most of my things back in Paris, but I still had too much to burden you with. It'll arrive at the apartment soon.”
That made everything easier, Mika had to admit. But before he could say as much, Shu let out a quiet, shaky breath and glanced around the terminal. The tremors Mika had noticed before were visibly worsening, and his face paled with every passing second. Beneath the hubbub of the airport, Shu's breathing was almost ragged.
Right. They'd discussed this, too. It had been an afterthought but no less important, and even though Shu had made this decision himself, Mika felt a surge of guilt. On impulse, he took Shu's wrists. Dark eyes snapped back to him, a little wilder than before, and Mika squeezed gently.
“Welcome back, Shu,” he murmured.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Shu slowly shifted, resting his hands in Mika's. His fingers were cool to the touch. Just like the rest of him.
(Sometimes, Mika still couldn't believe he knew so much about the enigma that was his best friend.)
“I'm... glad to be back,” Shu returned quietly. The panicked tension in his shoulders didn't completely release, but his eyes were alert. “Are we taking a train?”
Mika responded by tugging Shu into the crowd, and the taller man went without complaint. They slipped into the flow of traffic, shoulder to shoulder, and Mika started back towards the terminal he'd waited at. He let go of Shu's hands, but to his surprise, Shu kept a tight hold of his right.
Oh, Mika was going to go into cardiac arrest. How did he always forget about things like this? The moments where Shu was so unbearably gentle? Mika didn't deserve it; he never had and never would.
But Shu had returned to Japan. Their fingers weren't laced, but Shu's thumb absently rubbed his knuckles, almost subconsciously.
Who was Mika to complain? He'd been given a miracle, and he'd be a fool to question it.
“You didn't answer my question.”
He flinched, startled out of his thoughts by Shu's dry voice. Mika quickly flicked back through his memories, then chuckled sheepishly when it clicked.
“Naw, we ain't takin' a train.” Shu tipped his head curiously, and Mika couldn't help but smile. “I still have fans, y'know,” he chirped. “It's too risky if someone recognizes us. So there's an ES car waitin' for us out front.”
Shu met his gaze with an unreadable expression. “'Us.'”
“Yeah. Lots of Valkyrie fans came with me when I started Monarch.”
It wasn't the first time Mika had said it, and he had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't be the last. He never understood how Shu had missed the fact that Valkyrie's cult following had been instrumental in Monarch's explosive success.
The rest of the journey through the airport was blessedly uneventful; not a single fan emerged from the rushing crowds. A few times, someone squinted at them, but Mika hurried along without making eye contact, which proved to be enough of a deterrent. Shu was still too pale, his eyes a little too wide, but his hands remained firmly in Mika's. Finally, they broke through Terminal 33's double doors and stepped out into the cool evening. The sun had long since set, but a few wisps of orange and gold poked over the horizon.
Thankfully, the ES driver still idled at the curb. Mika quickly ducked into the backseat, and Shu followed, closing the door behind him. The car immediately pulled away, and Shu finally relaxed.
Good. Though there was only so much he could control, Mika still wanted this to be as painless as possible. After all, Shu was only here because of him.
No, no, that wasn't true. No use feeling guilty over something that Shu wanted, too. They'd agreed – no doing this unless they were partners.
“This is quite the ordeal.”
Mika glanced over and found Shu gazing out the window, his face a blank slate.
“You didn't need to order a private car,” the taller man continued quietly. “Even as a preventative measure. Who would recognize my face in this city?”
Every fan who buys a ticket to my Lives, Mika thought with a touch of melancholy. “It's not just for that,” he mumbled aloud. “This is so you can go back if you wanna. Y'know... go home and pretend this never happened.”
Silence. The air in the car had turned stifling, almost oppressive, and Mika had the sudden, panicked thought that he should've admitted that part of his plan. He'd meant it as a safety net in case Shu's mental health deteriorated, not as a challenge to his resolve. Oh, gods, had he-
“Thank you.”
Dark eyes flicked to him, and Mika barely stifled a gasp, pinned in place by the weight of grief and fondness in Shu's gaze.
“But my home is further into the city, is it not?” the taller man added, the barest hint of a smile touching his face. Mika's treacherous heart picked up into a skipping beat, and it only worsened as Shu leaned up to the driver. “We'd like to make a stop at Hareta Hana.”
The driver inclined his head and changed lanes as they sped away from the airport, heading towards the ES campus. It took a few seconds for Shu's order to process (thanks to the overwhelming effect of the first), but once Mika caught up, he flinched.
“How did you-”
Shu waved a dismissive hand. “I couldn't move back without doing some research. I was clueless when I last lived here, and it will only hinder me now. I ought to know what's close to my quarters.”
That didn't really explain why Shu knew, by name, the closest flower shop to the apartment, but the flare of bewildered fondness in Mika's chest kept him silent. Of course Shu would do research. Why wouldn't he? The taller man had always been meticulous to a fault.
Gods, they were finally out of the airport, racing along in Tokyo's evening traffic.
It was real.
In the blink of an eye, the car stopped outside Hareta Hana. Shu stepped out first, as graceful as ever, and swept into the shop as if he'd been visiting every day for months. Mika shook his head, mystified, and trailed the taller man inside.
“Good afternoon!” the attendant called at Shu's entrance. They instantly brightened when they spotted Mika. “Oh, Mr. Kagehira! Did you come back for your bouquet?”
Sitting in his apartment, curling up on the couch as he suffered through a sleepless night of manic excitement and debilitating anxiety, a “welcome back” bouquet had seemed just the right kind of sentimental. Even collaborating with the attendant had felt reasonable. Now, with Shu's curious gaze boring into the side of his head, Mika wanted to evaporate. Oh, he was so stupid. Why had he thought this was a good idea?!
Well, back in Paris, Shu had always kept a planter near the windows. He'd changed it every few weeks, and Mika had identified them as best he could to get a sense of Shu's taste, but...
No! No excuses!
“I would like to see it,” Shu said mildly, and Mika wondered if it was possible to sink into the ground.
The attendant glanced between them (Mika could've sworn he saw understanding light up their face), then nodded and vanished into the backroom. Shu drifted through the flower stands, brushing his fingers across delicate petals with a faint smile.
Mika had only genuinely questioned his intellect a few times in his life. This situation had just skyrocketed to the top of that list.
“Here you go!”
The quiet clink of glass against the countertop made Mika's stomach lurch, and it took every ounce of self-control to force himself to look up. Gods, the bouquet was just as colorful and fragrant as it'd been when Mika had approved the design. Looking at it now, he desperately wanted to snatch it away and fix everything.
Too late. Shu stepped up to the counter, face blank, and carefully reached for the bouquet.
It wasn't that impressive since Mika had been careful with his budget. Still, he'd poured enough time into researching the meaning of flowers that it counted for at least ¥15,000 in labor. The attendant – Kohei, if Mika remembered correctly – had devised the arrangement, but Mika had chosen three flowers as the focal point: blue Gentians, purple balloon flowers, and white Gladiolus. The pre-season Summer flowers. Admiration, honesty, and faithfulness.
He'd spent hours researching each flower. Hours. And yet, Mika was still gripped by the fear that he'd missed something.
“Beautiful,” Shu murmured, so quietly Mika almost missed it. Then the taller man looked up at the attendant and asked, louder, “How much is this arrangement?”
“¥10,000,” the attendant, Kohei, chirped.
Shu held his phone over the card reader without a word. Before Mika could remember how to speak, the attendant passed the bouquet to Shu, offered a precursory warning about the glass vase, and bid them farewell. Shu immediately left the shop, and Mika only had time to catch Kohei's bright grin and stealthy thumbs up before scrambling after his companion.
The driver raised an eyebrow when Shu settled into his seat, and Mika could only offer a helpless shrug. To his credit, the driver turned around and pulled away from the curb without question.
A few times, Mika thought he caught Shu gazing at the flowers with something almost like longing. But that didn't make any sense, and Mika's rampant anxiety demanded too much of his attention.
The first hurdle had been receiving Shu from the airport. Now came the second – and objectively more terrifying – bit: settling into the apartment. Mika had devoted literal years to improving his housekeeping habits, but the gut-twisting fear that he wasn't good enough had never faded. The stakes were even higher now. Shu wouldn't chide him and move on; they were living together.
Actually, the worst option would be if Shu decided to get his own apartment. The mere thought made Mika feel like he was drowning, so he hurriedly discarded it and latched onto the positives. Shu wanted to be back in Japan. They would be fine.
Hopefully.
Exactly a week after Mika had landed in Japan, nearly bouncing out of his skin with excitement, the ES driver pulled up to their apartment building. In a daze, Mika stepped out, scanning the street he'd seen every day for almost three years. It was different, somehow, with Shu standing on the sidewalk, holding his bouquet. A good different, though. A different that made his chest warm, curling around his heart.
In a flash, Mika remembered the driver and leaned down to the window. “Thank you,” he said, and the driver shot him a surprised look. “I know the traffic out by the airport ain't easy to navigate. Have a good evenin'.”
“You too, Mr. Kagehira.”
The driver sounded hesitant, as if expecting a catch, and Mika's heart squeezed. So many idols mistreated their drivers; no need to make this man nervous. He nodded once, then quickly strode into the building. Silently, he prayed Shu was following him, because if Mika stopped to look, his legs would seize up.
“I'm glad there's an elevator,” the taller man noted as they stepped into the car, and Mika pressed the “3” button. “It would be extremely inconvenient to drag my luggage up three flights.”
“You packed that much?” Mika asked, curious despite his nerves. Shu wrinkled his nose, and Mika couldn't stifle a giggle. “I guess you had to bring all your unfinished projects along. What happened to that stone statue in your studio?”
Shu's brow creased with frustration. “I could not finish her, so I donated her to a nearby underfunded art school. They will use her as carving practice.”
So soft at heart.
The elevator door opened, and Mika hurried to the end of the hall before he blurted something he couldn't take back. To his relief, he unlocked the door on the first try and shouldered inside.
Alright. Everything was as clean as he'd left it.
His anxiety slightly soothed, Mika slipped out of his shoes and stepped into the fluffy, white slippers Shu had given him months ago. (He'd never meant for them to be his regular inside slippers. Go figure.) Shu carefully set the bouquet on the entry side table, then pulled a pair of inside slippers from his bag. His dark eyes never wavered from the apartment, scanning it curiously.
“Oh,” Mika said dumbly. “You never saw my new apartment, huh?”
“I haven't. You were always secretive.” Shu straightened and advanced into the living room, his hands tucked in his pockets. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder. “It barely looks inhabited,” he noted with a hint of surprise. “Your room in Paris was more lived in than this.”
I always felt more at home in Paris, Mika didn't say. It was always too empty here. “I'm not around much,” he said aloud, because that was as close to the truth as he could get. “So you can redo whatever you want! It'll give you somethin' to do while ES works out the paperwork.”
Shu turned his gaze back to the living room, and Mika knew the taller man hadn't caught on. He didn't know if he was relieved or not.
“Very well,” Shu mused. “We'll be receiving several deliveries over these upcoming weeks, then.”
Good. You can make this place feel like home.
Mika didn't say that, either.
The tour was short; the apartment wasn't special by ES standards. The kitchen attached to the living room, complete with all the modern amenities, and three doors occupied the far wall – two for Mika's and Shu's bedrooms, the last for the bathroom. (Shu's new bedroom had once been Mika's office, but he'd never used it.) It was significantly more cramped than Shu's Paris apartment. Still, the taller man smiled warmly as he stepped into his new room, and Mika decided that was good enough. His phone buzzed moments later, and he picked up the call to learn that an ES driver had arrived with Shu's luggage.
Mika wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, exactly. Shu had never been wasteful (clearly, as he'd donated the bulk of his wardrobe), and he'd never been a hoarder like Mika. Still, only four medium-sized suitcases – the smallest of which housed Mademoiselle – seemed too little.
As they examined the pile, Shu snorted. “Don't look so worried,” he said archly. “I plan to make more clothes while I'm here and purchase items from decent boutiques. I won't touch anything of yours.”
The mental image of Shu wearing one of Mika's shirts flashed through his mind, and it was simultaneously innocent and the most enticing thing in the world. He stubbornly chased the image away, then picked up two suitcases. “If you're gonna make a jacket,” Mika mumbled, wobbling back towards the building, “I want one, too.”
Shu coughed a laugh, and Mika ducked his head to hide a lingering blush.
By 9 o'clock, the suitcases were spread over Shu's bed, thrown open as he explored his closet and dresser. Mika sat in the doorway, amusedly watching the taller man flit around. He'd been a pent-up ball of nerves for so many days... it seemed silly now.
Yes, the apartment was slightly cramped for the two of them. But Mika had always known the space wasn't meant for one, and he didn't mind the proximity with Shu.
It had its dangers, though, and Mika could already feel himself slipping. When he spent too long around Shu – or spent too long apart – his eyes drifted without his permission, and the dopey smiles he hid away peeked through. It was no different now.
Shu still moved with the assurance of someone who'd never left Japan – or even the apartment. His silk shirt rustled, and dark eyes darted from one thing to the next before jumping to a third fascination. His steps were rapid, yet there was an ease to his posture that hadn't existed in the airport.
Vaguely, Mika recalled the last time Shu had visited his residence. The taller man had disposed of his things without a thought, and if Mika concentrated, he still remembered the betrayal that'd scorched his heart.
He glanced up.
“Is there any space for my notes?” Shu asked, plucking distractedly at the paper he held. “I'd prefer to keep everything, but I can select the most important ones if necessary.”
“Naw,” Mika murmured, and his heart swelled. “I keep mine in the entry hall closet. We can stack your box in there.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
“Mm.”
Mika's phone buzzed, and he jumped, startled out of his peaceful stupor. No one ever called him past 8 P.M. unless it was one of his closest friends or an emergency from ES. He hurriedly dug it out of his pocket, then relaxed when he caught sight of the image filling the screen – a selfie of him and a woman with short blond hair and a dazzling grin.
“Hey, Arashi,” he greeted, answering the call. Shu shot him a bewildered look, and Mika pointed at his phone. The taller man's confusion cleared. “What's up?”
“'What's up?' Don't try to fool me, Mika; I know you're still a bundle of nerves.” Arashi gasped. “Wait. Is he there? Oh, my god, Mika, is he there?”
Mika made a face before remembering that Arashi couldn't see him. “Yeah, he's here,” he mumbled. Shu's dark eyes flicked to him again, narrowed with curiosity, and Mika flushed.
“What are you- oh, he's listening, isn't he?”
Arashi sounded far too delighted at the predicament she'd put him in, and Mika scrunched up his nose. He glanced back at Shu, and oh, gods, the taller man had left his suitcases and now leaned against the doorframe over him. His face was passive, but his eyes were still bright with interest.
Mika's throat was not dry. He did not struggle to breathe with Shu so close, dark eyes shining with a question.
“Mika?”
Alright. Two options, and one made this reintroduction much easier than the other.
Mika took his phone away from his ear and put it on speaker, carefully balancing it against his knees. “We can hear you, Arashi,” he said, and he was quite proud that his voice betrayed nothing of his hammering heartbeat. The benefits of years of practice.
Shu's gaze sharpened. A long-buried instinct begged Mika to shrink away, but he wrestled the urge under control and met Shu's stare evenly. The taller man wasn't angry, after all, just curious. Things were different. They were different. Not to mention that Mika had good friends now, and he would never “hide” someone as close to his heart as Arashi. Besides... maybe...
“Hello, Shu!” Arashi's voice was warm, tinged with a smile. “Welcome back to Japan!” Shu flinched slightly, and guilt pricked Mika's heart. “I hate to disturb you since I know you must be jet-lagged. But Mika asked if I could buy some groceries for him, and I was busy all day. Is it okay if I drop them off now?”
This time, when Mika glanced up, Shu was already looking at him. An edge of instability haunted the taller man's eyes – maybe even fear.
Mika hated it. Arashi was safe to him, but he had the benefit of three years spent growing alongside her. He refused to subject Shu to an uncomfortable situation so soon after his return, even if that meant-
“Yes,” Shu said slowly, and Mika flinched in surprise. “Thank you.”
For a moment, the room was silent. Then Arashi's soft laugh drifted through the speakers.
“Well, I'm glad you said that, because I'm outside.”
A sharp knock sounded on the front door, and Mika flinched again, accidentally jerking into Shu's leg. The taller man grunted, annoyance and amusement flickering in his eyes, and he planted a warning hand on Mika's hand.
“Be more aware of your surroundings,” he chided.
“Sorry,” Mika mumbled. He was just abashed enough to offer a sheepish smile, but nothing could dim the fresh wave of warmth in his chest. He pocketed his pocket and scrambled to his feet.
When he opened the door, Arashi beamed. “Oh my, someone looks happy,” she noted, and Mika couldn't help a giddy laugh as she pulled him into a hug. (It wasn't as tight as Shu's, though. It never was.) Just as quickly, Arashi released him, picked up the groceries, and gracefully swept into the apartment. “It already feels smaller in here!” she laughed. “Are you sure you didn't overestimate this little space, Mika?”
“It was more crowded in the ES housing,” Mika protested, closing and locking the door. “We'll be fine.”
Arashi paused halfway through unloading a bag – by this point, she knew where he kept everything – and shot him a knowing smile. “Mm. I'm sure.”
Mika inhaled to defend himself, but Arashi had already turned to the man hovering at the edge of the kitchen. Oh, gods, Mika had almost forgotten Shu was there. His gut twisted, wracked with guilt, and it only tightened at the tension in Shu's shoulders and the discomfort written across his face. Gods, what if Shu had just left the apartment?
Alright, that was probably just his anxiety talking. Still, Mika lurched forward, padding over to Shu and settling at his shoulder. The taller man shot him an unreadable look, and oh, hm, Mika really should've thought of an excuse.
Ah, what did it matter? Arashi knew of Mika's mental health struggles, and she was smart enough to realize that Shu had his fair share of issues.
“You moved in quickly,” Arashi piped up, flapping a hand at the boxes piled in the corner. “Unless you've already hidden everything away, it looks like you didn't bring much.”
Shu's shoulders were still tight. At the implicit question, he swayed towards Mika as if trying to steady himself without actually reaching out. But Arashi simply waited – she'd always been good at diffusing tense situations – and eventually, Shu spoke.
“I didn't. It would've been too expensive. I left most of my belongings in the capable hands of a Paris charity organization.”
For a single heartbeat, Arashi's bright smile slipped. It wasn't that she'd been faking it; her eyes flickered with newfound respect. Maybe it was Shu's actions or that he was making an effort to hold a conversation. Either way, Arashi glanced at Mika and offered a more genuine grin.
He really has changed, her eyes said.
Mika just bit his lip to stifle a beaming smile.
“Well, whenever you're settled, Ensemble Square awaits,” Arashi added lightly. Her voice was somehow more open than it'd been a moment before. “Are you two stopping by any time soon?”
Shu was still too pale, too unlike the man who'd left Japan three years ago, but his voice came out steady. “In a sense, yes. Mika and I must complete all the paperwork before any action can be taken.” Shu glanced over, and a smile lifted the corners of his eyes. “Though, if I remember correctly,” he murmured, “Mika already took care of as much as possible.”
Biting his lip couldn't completely hide his stupid grin, but Mika still tried to withstand it.
“He did,” Arashi agreed, amusement lacing her voice. “He kept asking me about technicalities since I've dealt with so many 'unit scares.' Ah, I wish Izumi would make up his mind.”
Shu frowned slightly. “Is Sena causing trouble?”
“Mm. He always does. He and Leo are having another one of their spats, and-” Arashi shook herself, and the storm brewing around her head faded like clouds chased away by the sun. Mika made a silent resolution to talk to her later; she always got anxious when Knights had internal issues. “Well, I'm sure we'll be fine,” Arashi finished, a little weary. “But back to you two. I heard about your apartment in Paris, Shu. I imagine this place isn't quite your style.”
Mika knew the surprised stare was coming before Shu even turned to him, but that did nothing to dim his embarrassment. Yes, he probably should've told Shu that Arashi knew a lot about his visits beforehand. But Mika had never found a suitable moment to say, “By the way, I'm always bursting with joy when I get back from visiting you, and that makes me a chatterbox.”
Stupid! He should've made a moment!
No, no, he wasn't an idiot. Well... in this case, it was kinda true.
Then Shu smiled, faint but genuine, and Mika's thoughts evaporated. “Mika gave me free rein to redecorate.”
“Did he?”
“Shut up, Arashi,” Mika muttered, still fighting a flush, and she had the audacity to snicker. If Mika wasn't amped up on adrenaline and terrified of blurting something in front of Shu, he probably would've tried to tickle her.
Unfortunately, Arashi knew him too well, and she swept towards the door with a smug smile. Even teasing him, Arashi was beautiful. Mika didn't think he'd ever understand how she always looked so put together.
“Well, I'm off!” Arashi said, wiggling her fingers in farewell. “Don't forget, Mika; we're meeting at ES tomorrow. I know you'll be busy, but we need all of Pretty 5 together! I heard Aira and Tori chewed you out for missing last week's brunch.”
Mika blanched at the memory. He'd always been a little scared of Tori (the shorter man just oozed money), but Aira Shiratori's wrath was on another plane of terrifying. He had no idea how Hiiro was still alive.
“I won't forget,” he mumbled, barely stifling a shiver. “Thanks again, Arashi.”
“Anything for you. Oh! I almost forgot.”
Mika frowned, but he obediently trotted forward when Arashi waved at him. Why was she being dramatic? She never forgot things. Then Arashi produced a small paper bag from one of her coat's inner pockets, and Mika's heart lurched.
“Your special request,” Arashi whispered. Mika tried to thank her, but nothing came out. All he could do was stare at one of his best friends with wide eyes, and Arashi chuckled, gently squeezing his shoulder. “You look happy,” she murmured. “Goodnight, Mika.” Then, louder: “Have a good evening, Shu!”
With that, Arashi swept out the door and vanished into the evening darkness. Mika closed the door behind her, still grinning, and turned to find Shu wearing a slightly incredulous expression.
“I don't recall her being so animated the last time we met.”
“She's always been like that,” Mika giggled. “You probably weren't interested in talkin' before.”
That... sounded much harsher than Mika had intended. He winced, silently cursing his inability to form sentences, but Shu lifted his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug.
“I wouldn't doubt it. What is that?”
Ha. Yet another sentimental “homecoming” gift that seemed unbelievably stupid now that Mika had to present it. But he'd walked the line of embarrassing himself all day, so what was one more? He inhaled deeply, then offered the bag. Shu took it, visibly confused, and Mika resolutely forced back a wave of anxiety.
“That pastry shop you always liked is still open,” he explained, offering an uncertain smile, “so I bought you a croissant. I know they ain't the real thing, which is why I didn't get a case or anythin', but... it's a taste of home.”
Shu stared down at the bag as if it held a live animal instead of a pastry. Fueled by lingering exhaustion and adrenaline and the fear that this beautiful dream might come crashing down around him, Mika began to panic. Had he pushed too far with this? He'd finally started to think that he had a good handle on their boundaries, but-
The taller man exhaled sharply, and the sound cut through Mika's mounting panic like a knife. Then he was engulfed in a hug, pulled against a cool body, and held close by one arm. It wasn't as tight as usual since Shu protected his croissant with his free hand, but there was still something desperate about his hold. Needy, Mika would call it, if he didn't know better.
But the description didn't matter, because Shu was hugging him here, in their apartment in Japan, his face buried in Mika's shoulder.
Mika only lasted a second before wrapping his arms around Shu and hugging him back.
“Thank you.”
The words were so quiet, Mika almost didn't hear them. He tilted his head, a question on his tongue, but Shu let out a soft breath and effectively shut his brain down.
“Thank you for making me feel at home.”
Anythin' for you, Mika thought, dazed. I still can't believe you came back to him.
Caught in the hazy embrace of exhaustion and adoration, Mika nearly blurted the sentiment aloud. He clamped down on it just in time. Shu stepped away a moment later, allowing Mika to frantically rebuild his filter. He shook his head slightly (gods, that had been too close), then refocused on Shu, who examined the paper bag with a faint smile. Mika grinned, inhaling to tease Shu about liking Japanese croissants.
His phone vibrated.
Mika frowned, fishing it out of his pocket. Odd. Maybe Arashi had left something behind? He tapped the screen, then blinked, startled, upon seeing a notification from Kohaku. The younger man usually turned off his phone by now. Worry flared in Mika's chest, and he hurriedly opened the message in Hold-hands.
Kohaku: i can't believe you actually bought the flowers
Kohaku: you're absolutely hopeless
Kohaku: what did i say when you were working on the bouquet? make it simple so you don't blow out your budget.
Kohaku: you might as well have flown him back from Paris yourself
Ah. No emergencies. Mika couldn't help but roll his eyes as he typed a response.
Mika: it wasn't that expensive and he bought it himself
Mika: how do u even know about the flowers
Kohaku: only after you made a sad face at him right?
Mika: no!!!
Mika: and u didn't answer my question!!
Mika: did Arashi tell you??
Kohaku: liar
Kohaku: you pouted and you didn't even notice
Mika huffed, a little miffed, and Shu looked up from his snack. His brow furrowed when he noticed Mika's phone – and probably his irritated expression.
“Is something wrong?”
“Naw, it's fine,” Mika sighed. “It's just Kohaku.” Confusion replaced Shu's concern, and Mika added, “Y'know, Kohaku Oukawa. Suou's cousin or somethin', former member of Crazy:B. Did I tell you he's with Freebirds now?”
“No,” Shu said mildly. “You're quite popular.”
Mika hesitated. That wasn't... entirely true. More importantly, he heard the waver of fear hidden in Shu's voice, the expectations buried beneath an impassive expression. Mika had friends, yes, good friends. Arashi had been supportive in everything for almost three years; he loved her wholeheartedly. Kohaku was infuriating at times, but he was still loyal and kind. Not to mention-
Well. They'd cross that bridge later.
The point was, Mika loved his friends, but his relationship with Shu still owned most of his heart. He'd spent a long time trying to make it otherwise before realizing that it was okay to care about Shu so deeply. He could prioritize the taller man so long as he still cherished his other friends.
But how did he say that without admitting the depth of his affection?
Shu snorted, and the sound broke Mika from his swirling thoughts. “Sit down, fool,” he ordered. Mika did without question (oh, Kohaku would've mocked him to hell and back if he'd seen that), and after a moment, Shu fixed him with a more serious look. “It will take me time to acclimate to being here,” the taller man said quietly. “While that is happening, please do not hide away anything of your life. I will find another apartment before forcing you to accommodate me.”
Technically, this is your place, too, Mika thought, torn between exasperation and overwhelming fondness.
“I don't have anythin' to hide,” he said aloud. “You've already met Arashi, and I talk to her and Kohaku the most.” That wasn't strictly true; the third most active conversation on Mika's Hold-hands was titled “Nii.” But that could come later. “Don't worry, Shu. It ain't hard to 'accommodate' you when I want you here.”
Oh. Oh, shit-
Dark purple eyes met his over the table, and a spark of electricity raced up and down Mika's spine. He was paralyzed, held in place by Shu's inquisitive look, and his heartbeat started to skip. Gods, he'd almost forgotten how hard it was to breathe when Shu looked at him like that, searching for something Mika didn't know how to give.
“I'll make dinner,” Shu said abruptly, and he took a healthy bite of his croissant. All Mika could do was gape at him, still trembling. The taller man swallowed, then rolled his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? I am the superior chef in this household.”
It was a peace offering. Mika knew that; they'd worked out this mechanism a long time. A way to table the conversation until they were both ready for it.
“You're jet-lagged, Shu,” he protested, and the taller man scoffed. “You should be sleepin', not preppin' dinner. What if you cut your fingers or somethin'?”
“That won't happen. What do you want to eat?”
Mika stared at Shu a moment longer, incredulous. The taller man met his gaze evenly, the hint of a pleased smile lurking around the corners of his mouth, and... gods. They'd come so far.
“Soup,” he mumbled. “You choose the ingredients.”
Fifteen minutes later, Shu had total dominion over the kitchen, juggling three pots and a ladle that never got dirty. Mika had been banished to clean his mini-office so Shu could have space for his projects, but he was a little distracted. Two weeks ago, he'd been making dinner by myself, eagerly awaiting his flight to Paris.
Now Shu was here.
A lovestruck smile finally broke through. Mika was safe in his corner, hidden from Shu's too-observant gaze, so he buried his face in his hands and let the ball of emotion in his chest explode. His heart was ablaze; it had been all day. Disbelief and delight and so much love swirled through his veins, rushed in his ears and encircled his chest. Mika had no idea if he wouldn't be sleeping tonight or if he'd passed out immediately.
Three days of paperwork, completed between other projects. It had been horrifically tedious and exhausting, but Mika had done it without hesitation. And now, as soon as those final documents in the COS PRO offices had his and Shu's signatures...
Valkyrie would return.