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Takao drives down the highway and parks his Porsche in an empty parking lot of a small town. Found on the outskirts of the city, where not many people live or care to visit. It's the perfect place to bring his victims to and murder them, he thinks. It's not well known and there's a lake nearby where he could easily throw bodies down there and by the time the police discover it, he's already erased all of his tracks, returning to society as a normal school teacher.
It's the farthest from the centre of the city and one of the saddest-looking towns he’s ever witnessed. It wouldn't be as bad if this was the countryside or whatever- at least over there, you can appreciate the landscape, the villages, the people, the peaceful atmosphere, the fresh air. But this? The air itself felt suffocating. it's no wonder there's barely any souls in sight. Takao wonders why his friend even lives in a secluded and sad place like this.
Friend..? The word feels foreign on his tongue, he's not sure if that's the right word.
He fixes his tie and turns off the engine before exiting his car, only to be hit in the face by a gust of wind. It was particularly windy today, Takao grimaces. Cursing under his breath, he takes out a crumpled piece of paper from his breast pocket and attempts to smoothen it out as best as he could to read the words printed on the paper,
‘How are you, my friend? I trust that you are doing well!
Before you get confused, please do know that I am currently using this technology called ‘text-to-speech!’ In short, it allows me to automatically input the words I currently speak into the computer as if I'm typing on a keyboard. Though I am not sure how grammatically correct this letter is, it is already impressive for this sort of thing to be possible, isn't it? Oh, how Lady Justice would be so proud!
Anyways, my dear friend,
I would like you to come to pay me a visit to my house. Please do not be alarmed or suspicious, I truly do want to spend time with you. I am aware of our.. contradicting occupations. We do not get many chances to converse and it's truly unfortunate. That is why I hope we could spend time together properly and invite you to my estate. Please accept my invitation, I eagerly await your arrival!’
The remaining contents of the letter are the details and address of Yomotsu’s house. He should get going and search for his house before he starts complaining about coming late and going on some rant about justice, but Takao simply stands still and stares at the piece of paper in his hand.
It was a few days ago when the invitation mysteriously appeared on his desk in the staff faculty room. He had asked his colleagues– the other teachers about the letter, but all of them gave the same answer. A shake of the head and a simple "No, sorry."
Takao has told Yomotsu that while he is a serial killer, he's also a middle school teacher, but he didn't tell him where exactly he worked so he has no idea how Yomotsu was able to find out which school, let alone just where exactly Takao’s table is. he'll ask Yomotsu about that later but for now, he needed to focus on finding his apartment.
It's strange. They barely knew each other. Hell, Takao doesn't know if Yomotsu can even be called a friend . They've only met like what? A week ago? He barely knows anything about the other, nor does the blind man know anything more about him. Then again, does Takao know anything about what the hell friends are supposed to be like? The letter tried to reassure him that there was nothing to be suspicious of but if anything, it only made him more skeptical of this whole thing.
To add on top of that, Yomotsu isn't your ordinary blind guy, he's delusional . He's a “vigilante” or whatever he likes to call himself - he hunts down criminals and throws them into jail or worse cases, straight up kills them, for God's sake! Takao was lucky enough when the masked man let him go on their first meeting for some reason but every time they met after that, Yomotsu would always go on a speech about justice like his damn life depends on it.
Sure, the speeches were inspirational the first few times and touched Takao’s very fragile and innocent heart to the point of him tearing up– but he eventually got bored of Yomotsu repeating the same thing with a few words switched up every time, and well, it was kinda awkward. Yomotsu’s speech always involved catching evil deeds, pursuing evildoers, and so on.
According to him, justice doesn't discriminate (which is obviously wrong, Takao proudly notes. He's played enough Ace Attorney to know this!) and to commit any sort of injustice, no matter how small or big, is disrespecting Lady Justice and should all be punished accordingly.
And yet, his only audience that ever listens to these so-called monolouges is a criminal whom himself has committed vile acts, most notably murder.
He mumbled to himself. Maybe he's just so awkward and ordinary looking to the point that Yomotsu forgot that Takao is a serial killer in the first place and thinks he's just some guy. He can't decide whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Takao pulls out his machete and uses a handkerchief to polish it. No matter how you look at it, this is nothing but a trap. Not a very clever one, honestly. This guy introduces himself as Lady Justice's hero, determined to rid all the filth and evil and make this corrupted world a better place and in order to do that, he would need to eradicate every sinner from the face of the earth- And Takao is no exception.
He wonders what goes on inside the vigilante’s head, does he think some kind of childish prank like this can actually work? Even a 5-year-old could come up with a better plan. If this whole little invitation really does turn out to be merely bait to lure him into a trap to be captured and thrown in jail, then well...
At least Takao can test out just how deep the waters in that nearby lake are.
Looking back on the letter, he figures it would be easier to ask a resident for the directions of the address rather than looking for it on his own; he could get information on this ghost town, too. Assuming people actually live here, of course.
There were a few cars other than his own parked inside the parking lot, but he couldn't be sure if the cars still had owners or if they were completely abandoned. The cars seemed like they hadn't been turned on for years and could fall apart at any moment, further proving his theory of this being a total ghost town.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to try searching for an open shop with the hopes of finding a working employee inside. His ears perk up when he hears the sound of a passing car coming across the street. He hastily passes through an alleyway to find the source of the sound. Just around the corner of his eye, he sees a speeding car rushing to god knows where.
Fuck..! He knows he isn't fast enough to catch up with the car itself, but he needs to know just what exactly this place is, and his only lead had already driven off into the distance, gone. He curses himself again and again. Takao grits his teeth and then sighs, he should just give up. There's no benefits in meeting Yomotsu anyways.
But lady luck pities Takao, it seems. Because before he could turn around in defeat, his eyes widen to see a person walking down on the other side of the street. A real, living human being!
He was about to bolt across the street until he finally uses his few brain cells to think before leaping - Shit, I would look fucking insane. Takao didn't want to scare the passerby and ran away from him. If he saw a random madman sprint across the fucking street towards him with a creepy-ass smile, you can bet Takao’s already got his machete pulled out of his ass. So, he takes a deep breath, and normally speedwalks (he didn't even look both ways before crossing, embarrassing.) to the other side of the road quickly enough to reach the other person.
“Excuse me, sir!” with a forced smile, Takao calls out loud enough for the stranger to hear. They turn their head toward him, finally allowing him to get a good look at their face.
“I sincerely apologize for bothering you, good sir,” He cringes at how fake that sounds, “but could you kindly help me with some directions?” He presents the piece of paper with Yomotsu’s address on it. Takao’s eye twitches at how the stranger furrows their brow, no doubt in suspicion. Whatever happened to “don't judge a book by its cover” huh?
Impatiently, he brings the paper slightly closer to the stranger's face, calm, Takao, stay calm. The stranger takes the paper from his hands into their own to read it, that is before Takao quickly uses his index finger to point at the bottom of the letter where the address is, subtly trying to prevent the stranger from reading anything else. Why was he so reluctant to keep the contents of the letter hidden? It's not like it was some top secret or some love letter or anything, no! Not in a billion years!
“Ah, the address is right here. Could you perhaps tell me the directions? I’m new around here, I’m afraid..”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” The stranger pointed to their left before continuing, “You just have to turn-”
“You can talk?”
Takao immediately puts a hand on his mouth, realising in horror the utter dumbassery that just came out of his mouth. He wishes he could just punch himself right there and then. The poor victim of Takao’s never-ending stupidity had widened their eyes slightly, who could blame them?
“Um.. I’m sorry..?” The stranger scratches their head, not sure how to respond to that question. They open their mouth but no words come out, clearly hesitating to continue his request. Though to Takao’s dismay, time must move on. “..You just need to turn on the left-”
They continued on, telling Takao the directions he needed, but he had already stopped paying attention, managing to comprehend only some of the words being spoken to him. He’s in his own little world now, regretting every single life decision that led him up to this point.
Maybe I should kill them right here. They won't be able to live to tell this embarrassing tale to others and make a fool out of me. Takao tries to reach for his machete before another voice in his head (The one with brain cells.) stops him. No, you fucking idiot! They're our only source of information right now, and that's not an excuse to fucking kill someone!
The imaginary argument in his head comes to a halt when he realises that a hand is waving directly in front of his face. "Are you okay? Did you catch all of that?" There's a hint of concern mixed with confusion in the other's tone. "Do you need me to repeat everything? If not, I'll be going now."
Takao slightly jolts, "Huh? ..Oh, yeah- no..Ahah.." He chuckles nervously like a fucking loser, "No, no. no. Tha-thank you very much, I'm grateful for you taking the time to help me." He wants to ask for more information on the town itself, but that would be far more humiliating.
"Please, by all means, live on with your life, and may God bless your pure soul and cleanse your life from sins!" Like the idiot he is, he starts taking off instead of just walking away like a normal person.
"Ah- that's the right! The building is on the left over there and then-"
"D-don't worry, me going in the opposite direction of what you just told me was completely on purpose!"
Takao turns around to run to the left this time, too embarrassed to admit that it was a complete lie and he simply ignored what the stranger told him literally a few seconds ago.
He runs away until he's sure the stranger can no longer see him and turns to another alley, resting his back on a wall. He tries to collect his thoughts and ignores his obliterated dignity. He can cry about this later but for now, he needs to find the way to Yomotsu's house, he reminds himself again for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
Takao tries to recall back whatever he can, if he thinks hard enough he can vaguely remember words like right, straight, and turn to the and whatnot.
He finally takes the time to look around his surroundings, there are posters plastered everywhere, and yet they’re all very distinctive from one another. They must be old, there's no way that many stores could be opened here - at least, not anymore.
He inspects the posters. Most of them were advertisements and hiring posters. Takao continues inspecting the posters when something suddenly clicks. If he racks his brain hard enough, he can vaguely remember the stranger describing a place filled with posters. They were probably talking about this. Now that he thinks about it, they were actually quite talkative, weren’t they?
He trails the walls while scanning them, searching for something else. Yes, he should be hurrying to Yomotsu's house, but what if one of the posters were advertising a sex club or hot single milfs near his area? Sure, even if there were one, it probably wouldn't exist anymore, but it wouldn't hurt to try.
Yet it was proving impossible to do. There were just too many posters, more than Takao has ever seen in his life. Was this small alley sacred or some shit? Couldn't they paste them somewhere else like an emptier wall where passersby won't be overwhelmed by the amount that was already plastered on. Takao keeps looking until his eye catches something interesting. He reaches up to rip off a certain poster from the brick wall.
It was a picture of… Yomotsus? Several of them, each one doing some kind of pose from of them having the same but different coloured masks, doing some kind of formation. Takao’s inner chuunibyou and nostalgic instinct immediately recognizes the familiar feeling of Super Sentai, something he used to watch religiously during his childhood. (Though, did he even have one in the first place? Feels as if he had popped out of thin air one day and simply went on about life sometimes.)
Takao forgets a lot of things in his life but he doesn't miss how each pose is an obvious reference to the original Super Sentai. Well, it made sense considering Yomotsu’s entire “Super Sentai” thing is not only named after the beloved children's show, but it's basically just a carbon copy except if the ink ran out halfway through. From the outfits, the poses, the theme song, (That is actually good, not that Takao will ever admit it.) everything, down to the last detail.
But.. He supposes he can make an exception. It is one of the few things Yomotsu would talk about other than that deafening cliche speech, and it was nice to hear him talk about something that he was passionate about that isn't completely delusional. Another thing Takao would never admit.
The whole poster was covered in a sort of vector dot pattern, along with small panels with some of the Yomotsus in them placed occasionally on the sides of the poster along with different variations of speech bubbles. The whole thing seemed to imitate a comic book cover, how fitting. The words on the poster reads;
‘Do Not Fret! Professional Vigilante at Your Service!’
His eyes trail down to a smaller set of words underneath it.
‘ In need of justice to be served? Fear not, Super Sentai will deliver it for you at an affordable price! Now at the Super Sentai Residence!"
“God,” Takao says with an unfortunate amount of fondness, ”that’s so fucking cringy.”
————————————––
There he is, currently standing in front of a cafe that was definitely way too cutesy looking and out of place in such an empty town like this.
Unlike most of the empty brick buildings here, the walls were made of concrete painted baby blue. The frame of the cafe is covered with flowers, fake ones, Takao assumes.
He should get moving, the so-called Super Sentai Residence should be just around the corner, so why was he just standing there? Moreover, tightly gripping the poster he had no explanation as to why he kept it. He had subconsciously taken it instead of throwing it away somewhere on the ground. It's not like he cares about mother nature.
He tries to take a glance inside through the big window. From where he stands, Takao can see display cabinets full of cakes and other desserts. He's reminded of a conversation he and Yomotsu had before, where the vigilante mentioned his poor financial status.
Being a vigilante isn’t.. exactly a real job per se, and Yomotsu says he doesn't have any other job, so the man’s source of income was extremely limited, if not basically nonexistent. He wonders why Yomotsu just doesn't get another job, but he can guess that his disability might have something to do with that.
The thought of Yomotsu starving, not being able to scrape enough to even afford food to stay alive leaves an uneasy feeling in his gut, but he doesn't know why. He isn't concerned about Yomotsu's health, that guy can starve to death for all he cares. In fact, it would greatly benefit him if that guy dies. He won’t have an annoying bug pestering him, won’t have to look at his annoying stupid mask, (Seriously, what is that even supposed to be?) won't have to listen to some annoying speech, won't have to listen to his annoying voice. He can go back to doing his work without any distractions, he can go back to being alone for all his life.
Again.
Takao shakes his head. No matter how friendly Yomotsu tries to act, he can’t risk being deceived by a literal criminal hunter. If he lets his guard down, he’s sure he’ll also fall for the vigilante’s traps. He pulls out that crumpled piece of paper and reads the contents of it once again.
After all, this whole thing is just a trap, isn’t it?
Takao doesn’t need friends, they only get in the way.
…
He pathetically throws the piece of paper on the ground and stomps on it.
The bell on top of the door rings as Takao pushes it open, the aroma of coffee beans immediately invading his nostrils. The interior looks exactly like the kind of cafes where you see in movies set in Italy or whatever. Everything in this cafe screams elegant and an odd feeling creeps up on him.
Now that he has a better look at the pastries on display, he examines each of them - cakes, cakes, macaroons, cupcakes, cookies.. more cakes. What would that guy even like? Takao doesn’t imagine Yomotsu to be very picky, but everyone’s got their likes and dislikes.
What about something chocolate, you can never go wrong with that. Or maybe something like a carrot cake, they’re not too sweet but not bitter either, it would be the safest option– or maybe a cake is a bit too much? It would be better to take a cupcake– but what if Yomotsu has diabetes? Then there wasn’t a point in coming here!
"Sorry for the wait, darling!" The sound of a door creaking open interrupts his thoughts. Takao looks up to see a young woman coming out of a door behind the counter while hastily putting on an apron, “You know how it is with business.. not a bloody soul comes around these parts anymore- well, hello there! Don't think I've seen you around these parts before."
"Ah, I'm not from around here.. I'm just visiting a friend, you see." Takao pretends to bring his attention back to the pastries, secretly glancing back and forth between them and the woman; Looks like in her mid-20s, with a pretty face, gracious long brown hair, and a decently sized chest.. Not bad.
The woman snickers, "A friend, or a date?"
Takao nearly chokes on his words, " What."
“Ooh, I know those eyes, don't be so shy! Here," She takes out one of the cakes from the display and twirls it around as if showcasing it. “You should try the strawberry shortcake then. It’s our best-seller, girls totes lo~ve this kind of design, and you're just in luck because this is the last one."
A date? With Yomotsu Hirasaka? The suggestion alone completely flabbergasts Takao. Him? With a man? No way, not in a million years. It's impossible. He could ask Deus to find a universe where he has even the slightest romantic feelings towards a man and it wouldn't exist. What kind of nonsense was this woman spouting?
"What makes you think I'm on a date?" Takao spits at the woman before she can continue, glaring at her.
"Hm, did I get it wrong? You're dressed quite nicely, smelling like a hella expensive cologne or whatever men use as perfume. Besides, you looked like ya were in really deep thought about choosing what to buy. I mean, you wouldn't want to disappoint your date now, would ya–"
“It's not a date! Who would ever want to go on a date with Yomotsu Hirasaka anyways!? That guy is loud and annoying and dumb and autistic and delusional! He's blind and his stupid monologues and his ugly mask a–and his ugly costume-"
Takao was so caught up in his thoughts that it didn't even occur to him how big of a mistake he's making. It's a shame his idiocy did not allow him to realise this much, much sooner.
The consequences of his actions finally dawns on him when he gets cut off by the woman's next words, voice suddenly so sweet
"Oh, you mean Yomoi-kun!!!"
Her expression is so bright Takao swears it could blind him, and then he would frustratingly have another thing in common with that retard. Yomoi-kun? Is that what she calls Yomotsu? What kind of dumb nickname is that!?
The woman clasps her hands together, “If you’re visiting him, get the carrot cake! It’s his favourite, and he always gets it whenever he visits. He's a regular here and oh, he's such a good sport.. It makes me sad to think about his current circumstances."
The mention of Yomotsu's circumstances catches Takao's attention. And so without thinking, he asks;
"Can you tell me more about him?"
"Ah, I'm not sure if I should say this.. But oh! Recently, there's this one guy he keeps talking about. I don't remember his name though, it was Hi.. Something."
Takao stills.
"He says that this guy is always in a bad mood so much that it's actually kinda cute. I think he called him, what was it…A 'tsundere'?"
Yeah okay, he needs to get out of here immediately. He might as well just run outside the store and hope a truck magically appears and runs him over, killing him instantly. Takao needs to get away from this woman as fast as possible before she starts doing anything else to make him question his life choices again. He looks around the room, trying to find some sort of escape route or excuse to get this over with.
“Erm.. that’s nice and all, but could you please take my order? I’d like the uh, the.. carrot cake..please.” It’s slightly more expensive than some of the other cakes, and Takao really does not want to spend so much just for someone he hates , but fuck it. For now, he needed to fucking exit this godforsaken cafe as soon as humanly possible. Besides, isn’t Yomotsu broke as fuck? Sure, it costs only like 1340-something yen, but that's gotta be way outta his budget.
The woman finally starts doing her job, taking out a slice from the display and carefully packaging it inside a nice little box and tying it with a red ribbon. Even so, she continues talking anyway. What an annoying woman. “He has nice hair too, apparently, according to Yomoi-kun. And a nice voice." She puts the neatly tied box in a brown bag and places it on the top of the counter and starts operating the cash register, unbeknownst to Takao's growing uneasiness.
“You know, Yomoi-kun told me he actually invited this person to the Super Sentai Residence. He should be coming today, I think. I wonder if they'll come to the bakery today."
Shit shit shit shit. Takao hastily takes out his wallet and glances at the price displayed before taking out money and slams it on the counter. It's a little more than the price but he doesn't bother checking.
"Easy there, you good? No need to rush." The woman sighs as she nonchalantly picks up the money unbothered. Takao can’t tell whether she’s concerned, disinterested, or just wants to get this over with. It’s understandable considering her probably-first-and-only customer of the day is on the verge of having a panic attack.
But ah, Takao doesn't care anymore. He's so close to escaping this (not at all) nightmare. Which is why he doesn't understand when the woman suddenly stops as if she's frozen in time, torn between staring at the brown bag or the money in her hand, contemplating something. Takao balls his fists. He doesn't have time for this. "Ex-"
"Could you be…" Her eyes finally fall onto Takao, "Hiya-"
"Keep the change!" Takao shouts before she could even finish her sentence. He grabs the bag and makes a run towards the entrance, ignoring how harshly he pushes open the door and the deafening sound of the bell. He hears the woman call out to him, but he ignores that too.
Takao runs, he's long out of the bakery already, but he doesn't stop, he can't stop. He needs to reach Yomotsu's house, and he can't afford any more distractions. He's already come so far without breaking down even once.
—————————————
...
Takao sighs.
There he is yet again, this time currently standing in front of a wooden door. He was able to find the Super Sentai Residence but frankly, he just wants to go back home and never open that goddamn door. He’s been running around like his life depended on it, (although not for long, he already lost his breath after a while) until he had caught sight of a comically large billboard advertising Yomotsu's services.
So after a moment of hesitation, he knocks. Once, then twice, then thrice, eventually going from knocking to angrily banging on the poor, poor abused piece of wood. Silence. He spots a doorbell and impatiently presses it at a rapid pace. More silence.
What the hell!? Is Yomotsu not home, or is this actually some deliberate setup? The realisation reminds Takao that the possibility of everything being a trap still hasn't been crossed off yet, and he starts panicking.
Shit, how could he have completely forgotten already? What if he was lured and had already triggered the trap? To hell with the stupid carrot cake, he needs to leave before something bad happens, before he steps further into the bait to the point of no return.
On instinct, he pulls out his machete from god knows where, probably from his ass or something. Even Takao doesn't know at this point, but he doesn't bother thinking logically. Anything could happen at any moment and he needs to be ready to defend himself.
So when Takao turns around only to find the man that's been tormenting his life, his brain immediately goes into a circuit freeze and does a complete factory reset.
"Hiyama-san?"
Yomotsu is standing there with a confused expression, holding a plastic bag filled with groceries in each hand. “Is that you, Hiyama-san? Or am I mistaken?”
Takao would have already lunged at the unwanted company if not for the fact he instantly recognises Yomotsu’s voice. Even so, it takes Takao a while to register the fact that yes, the man standing just a short distance away from him is indeed The Yomotsu Hirasaka. The voice belongs to him, no doubt, but this was the first time he had ever seen Yomotsu’s true appearance and not the silly autistic creature in the usual geeky outfit.
Takao doesn’t know what he was expecting, but Yomotsu looks…More ordinary than he thought. He properly takes in Yomotsu's appearance. Instead of dressing up like a clown, Yomotsu is wearing a black shirt with a simple white overcoat.
"Hello? Please answer me. I can't recognise you if you don't speak."
"..Yomotsu."
"Ah! So it is you, Hiyama-san!" Whatever suspicion the other man has disappears in the blink of an eye as he happily walks up to Takao. "I didn't think you would actually come. How delightful."
Takao huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “Tch, serves you right! You should be grateful I, the great Takao Hiyama, even considered coming here! In any case, don’t you think it’s disrespectful to keep me waiting like this? What kind of host isn’t there to open the door for his guest?”
“Yes yes, my apologies. I was getting groceries, see?” Yomotsu lifts up both of his hands to gesture to Takao the plastic bags. “Now, we must make haste! Help me carry these bags and come inside. Justice waits for no one, after all!”
Before he could say anything, Yomotsu dumps the bags onto the other man, forcing him to catch them. He loops his arms with Takao and drags him into the small building. Despite Takao's protests, Yomotsu grins at the lack of resistance.
——————————————
Takao hums as he wipes the blood off his machete with his newest victim's handkerchief. It has a cute cat-patterned design on it, and he actually considers taking it for himself. Affectionately gliding a gloved finger across the curved blade, he gazes at his reflection in the steel of his trusty partner-in-crime. He can’t see his own face in his own image, covered by the mask and visor that’s always kept his true identity shrouded in mist.
He puts his machete back into its sheath and tucks it hidden into his overcoat. Fix his coat, wipe the imaginary dirt off it, fix his hat. A routine he developed whenever he's working in his "part-time" job. He takes out his flip phone and walks over to the fresh pool of blood.
Squatting down carefully so as to not touch the blood, he takes a picture of the lifeless body that's been adorned with crimson. Takao looks at the photograph and smirks. A pretty darn high-quality photo if he does say so himself. Bet he could become a photographer and make all the other professionals jealous with his natural skill.
He'll need to print it out later and send it to the police anonymously just to fuck around with Keigo. Oh, how he loves imagining the detective's face twist in anger and frustration seeing the mysterious killer he’s been desperately searching for spit and laugh at his face by leaving a blatant clue and still hitting a dead end with no leads.
In an effort to relieve some kind of boredom, Takao scrolls through his contacts and comes across Yomotsu. The events of last week's events flash through his mind. Right, he visited the 12th's house. He didn't hate it, at least he got it over with in the end.
Oh, but he didn't enjoy it either, of course.
"No words can express the utter bliss I am currently experiencing! Lady justice must be truly content with my services to bless me with such a wonderful day.." The vigilante cheers, dancing around with the plate of carrot cake.
"H-hey! Stop dancing or you're gonna fucking drop the goddamn cake!" Takao tries to take the plate away from the other man, but he avoids his attacks as if he could read his every step.
Yomotsu's grin grows wider as he deliberately steps out of the way just in time to evade another one of Takao's futile attempts and sets it down on the table. A childish satisfaction fluttering inside as he hears the man stumble and try to balance himself.
"Wh..why the hell do you even love carrot cake so much!? I don't get it at all.." Takao pants, obviously very much annoyed.
"You don't understand, Hiyama-san. Carrot cake was once my saviour. I haven't gotten the chance to eat it in so long because I had to save up for groceries." Yomotsu takes the two plastic bags from the floor and places them on the kitchen counter. "Come, help me take out the groceries and cook. The curry isn't gonna make itself."
Surprisingly, Takao doesn't protest and does what he's told. "Saviour? That doesn't even make sense… Besides, you really put off buying a single slice for that long just so you could cook curry for this occasion?”
“Of course, I don’t have a stable income in general so I had to be careful about what I spend.”
Takao opens his chat message with Yomotsu. No, he doesn’t enjoy it. He doesn’t even like Yomotsu.
The vigilante drops a heavy stack of books on the table with a loud thud.
“What are these?” Takao takes the book lying on the very top of the pile. There’s no words on the cover, only dots in a messy and unorganised way. A quick flip of the pages makes him realise that this is a braille book made for the blind. Of course. That’s obvious, he thinks. Yomotsu can’t fucking read.
“Its how I read! Braille books are expensive and cost a hefty, however, so I don’t own many…” He takes one of the books and proudly shows it off to Takao. “This is the entire Herlock Sholmes collection! It’s my treasure!”
“Isn’t it Sherloc-”
“Sholmes-san is my inspiration, you see. His sense of justice is of utmost admirable, always not one, not two, but more than three steps ahead of the villain. For this world to be pure and rid of filth, it needs people like him, people like Sholmes-san. And so, I’ve decided that I will definitely be the Herlock Sholmes of this ugly world!” Yomotsu strikes up a strange pose that Takao can only assume is supposed to be a reference to this.. Herlock guy.
He shifts a little on the couch he’s sitting on. “Okay.. can I leave now?”
“Of course not. The reason I brought you here is so I could tell you the entire Herlock Sholmes lore!”
Takao chokes. “I-I you know, I think I’ll pass-” But alas, Takao Hiyama does not have a choice.
He scrolls through the text messages and eventually lands on their most recent conversation. Yomotsu had asked him if they could hang out again and Takao scoffs. No sane person would willingly be around that fucking retard a second time, so he naturally declined the offer, of course.
Or so he would say, yet..
Yomotsu carefully pours tea into both cups. “And this, is my top secret special Super Sentai blend!” He places down the teapot and gently pushes one of the cups towards the man sitting opposite of him. “Come on, try it, hurrryy.”
“Oi, ever heard of fucking patience? You didn’t give me a chance to even touch the cup!" Takao harshly snatches the cup and brings it to his lips.
"So? It's good right!?"
"..It sucks."
Yomotsu pouts. "Hiyama-san, it's bad manners to lie, don't you know~? I can tell by the tone of your voice."
"No..way, y-you're lying!" Takao likes to consider himself a man of wits, but here he is crumbling and stuttering on his words because of Yomotsu Hirasaka of all people.
"It's okay, Hiyama-san~ You can be honest with me."
Takao looks to the side, trying to hide his blush and miserably failing. "It's… Really good. What did you even put in it?"
The vigilante puts a finger on his lips and smiles. "Secret."
Takao sighs. Really, what's gotten into him, actually accepting Yomotsu's invitation? They agreed to meet up again on Saturday, but he wonders if they even have time. They are currently in a death game , after all.
Takao still hasn't figured out the true purpose of this game and he isn't taking any shit from that awful abomination that calls himself the God of Time and Space or whatever other bullshit Deus spouts out. He knows Jesus Christ is the only true divine.
Even so, he'll still need to play by the rules if he wants to survive, that much Takao knows. And according to the rules, there's only a tragic end waiting for either of them.
Is it really possible to have another cup of tea together or read the entire Herlock Sholmes collection, knowing at least one of them is bound to kick the bucket sooner or later?
A scenario suddenly invades his mind against his will. The two of them being the last two players alive and thus, forced to pit against each other. Who will come out victorious in the end? Will the 3rd reign supreme and become the god of the new era, or will the 12th succeed in his goal of purifying Earth?
A fascinating fate, isn't it? Takao doesn't mind entertaining it. He stands up and stretches his arms to relieve his sore muscles. Fascinating indeed, but he has other matters to take care of at the moment. Winning the game means to survive in a eat or be eaten world, even if he has to eat his very own students.
Yukiteru Amano and Yuno Gasai. The 1st and the 2nd, he has no doubt about it. He needs to get a move on.
Perhaps, in another world, there is no death game, and there is no serial killer or vigilante. Perhaps, they were given a second chance. Takao and Yomotsu could have simply lived fulfilling and normal lives. Perhaps they could have been good friends who met under normal circumstances, and perhaps, they could have drank tea together again.
But there are no perhaps or second chances because in a cruel world such as this, dreams are merely a privilege. Takao wonders if deep down, Yomotsu knows this too.
He opens his diary to check the date.
April 28.