Work Text:
“...You ain’t seein’ anything out there, are ya?”
There was an edge of genuine caution to her words. Of course, anyone with remotely functional eyes would realize that there was indeed a world outside the window towards which both Miku and Toshiaki peered through at this point in time, the first from the entryway and the other with his elbows propped up on the back of the dingy old couch which he had been plenty happy to call a bed for the past few wild fucking weeks, and currently seemed content to kneel upon as he gazed upon the outside distorted through the droplets upon the windowpane.
A world with streets nearly empty but for a few madly dashing around to escape the sheets of gray rain which the sky was gladly offering up, plus what seemed to be a duo desperately grasping at the same sunny yellow umbrella. Signs for so-many businesses, some faded wooden cuts, some tarps over previous signs (and some of those already tattered), some flickering in gaudy colors with an intermittent buzz one couldn’t help but hear in one’s mind even if they were too far away to do so with one’s ears. Lights from the insides were diffused upon the glistening pavement, over puddles with rainbow film doing a sludgy waltz over its surface, and the faces of those who wished to seek shelter from the storm.
With human sight alone, it was simply a dreary day in the run-down part of town, where Miku simply lived and Toshiaki had learned to live, because of why–
–both of them knew that wasn’t what she meant. They’d had to learn all too well what lurked behind the facade of a ‘normal’ world surrounding them, and what that entailed for the entirety of it.
Perhaps for this, Toshiaki startled for a moment, putting his head on an active swivel back and forth for precious seconds before stalling, and then flipping his entire body about into the sitting position that a sofa is more designed to accommodate. His eyes brushed over Miku’s for a moment, and then darted to the nearest corner to her as he gave a sheepish smile.
“Oh–no, not this time.” He gave a mirthless chuckle as he tugged at the sleeve of his windbreaker, drumming his toes (clad in ankle-high black socks with yellow-stamped toes and heels) against the sheet thrown on the floor as meager protection against splinters from dubious wooden boards. “I just…like watching people. Is that weird?”
“You used to watch TV a lot, didn’t ya.”
“...Yeah.”
There used to be a TV in here, too, not like Miku ever watched it much. Busted-ass thing they’d bought from a neighbor so she could make rent that month–charity, really. She’d have done the same for them. But it got reception, so it was good for something. Mostly just for the weather forecast so she knew whether she should just throw on her tank top and go or if she could throw on her riot jacket without dying of heat. Not like it was right half the goddamn time, of course.
But Grandma had watched it plenty. Miku knew it wasn’t the *best* thing, but it’s not like she could get out as often as she had when Miku was a baby, and it was better than being bored. It’s not like Grandma exactly *liked* most of the stuff on TV, either, but it definitely gave Miku some entertainment to hear her yammer on about what they called ‘news’ or ‘entertainment’ nowadays.
…
“Sorry we don’t have one.”
Toshi’d totally noticed her zoning out. At this point, he knew better than to ask, it seemed. Or had she mentioned it before?
Better not to dwell on it.
“It’s fine. I can’t exactly ask for more than a roof over my head and a decent meal, can I?” Another quiet laugh, half a smile without humor. All under those eyes.
Those god-damn puppy-dog eyes he had.
…She remembered that fateful evening.
The hot night, the tension, the waves of people bubbling into the streets like a new high tide looking for a spark to ignite the whole thing–all while her boss had swindled her out of her money yet again, and she was against the wall. Rent versus Grandma’s meds, and after all that had happened. She’d just needed a few thousand yen.
In the flood of humanity, there’d never be an eye on her or one unfortunate jackwagon, she was sure. To lie in wait in an alleyway, some big old dolt trying to shuffle his way down, just one good shot would do it–
–of course she’d missed with the fucking bottle. She’d just emptied it out, after all. Liquid courage doesn’t really help the rest of you stay in step with what you wanna do. But that’s what the bat was to help with, right? As long as–
And then those eyes. Those longing, lonely, helpless eyes.
It was like she couldn’t look away from them. Was this some sort of stray animal that had been released by an owner who had grown bored of it? Should she have found some scraps to feed it? Surely, no human would have had such a pleading gaze.
One that seemed to reflect more intensely than any water’s surface, any silver mirror, any television screen–so much so that she was shocked to see anger, before realizing it was her own, rapidly intensifying at this creature who made her hesitate to act for her own certain benefit.
…Looking back, maybe she just saw something in him that she saw in herself, and hated that it was so.
She’d lunged forward as he cried out.
He said later that he’d said “Stop! I don’t want to hurt you!” as he’d taken two jerks backwards.
And then–
And then–
And then…
“Don’t forget plumbin’.”
This sparked a much more mirthful laugh from Toshiaki, raising a hand to his head as if to assure that he wouldn’t overwhelm himself with the resultant chortle. “Oh, absolutely. As long as I’m here, I’m not gonna go a day without showering. Or drinking a tall glass of water. Or, y’know…”
“ Not shittin’ in the bushes or somethin’, I getcha.” She drummed her fingers on her arm, with them having been folded across her chest since Toshiaki first turned about to see her. She hadn’t quite realized it when it happened–it was just a fairly natural stance for her to take.
…That dweeb with a camera said that it was a guarded stance, or something. If she really wanted to guard from anything, she’d have something to bust some heads in her hands, or at least her dukes actively up. But, again, dweeb with a camera. Probably had some different ideas about how human vs. human went down.
“Yeah…or wiping with leaves, hopefully.”
That was admittedly a warranted ‘hopefully’; most of what was stocked in the bathroom to wipe oneself with were napkins pilfered from Miku’s job as a waitress, which she’d been telling herself before and after the incident that she’d be walking out of any goddamn day now.
“...Yeah. Just don’t overdo it. Bills to pay.”
“I know. You–know I’d really love to get a job and all, but…” His gaze drifted away again, after previously having been relatively centered on her.
They knew.
“Don’t worry about it. We’re all goin’ through it together, dammit, and I ain’t gonna let you back out there on any kinda regular basis ‘till we’re sure things aren’t two minutes to boiling.”
“I just–”
“You feel bad. I know. You’ve said it before, and I’m tellin’ ya that you don’t need to. Again.”
…Toshiaki gathered his hands into his lap, seeming very focused upon them.
Miku was tempted to state the simple facts, again again. That a high-schooler shouldn’t be expected to dig into the history of the History Club, that there should be no possible way that something called the History Club should be full of not dweebs who are interested in old crap that doesn’t mean anything but rather freaks who want to bring forth some absolute bullshit, that he didn’t know he was a cog in an apocalyptic machine and he shouldn’t have been in a situation where he’d have to figure it out.
But…now wasn’t the time to bring him back some bad memories.
She’d learned that a while back.
So.
“Even if I did hit a bump again…those other bastards have some spare change, don’t they? They and their parents. If it’s for you, they’d be happy to toss a few yen in. It’s not a big deal.”
He was still focused on his hands. Biting his lip now. This was getting worse. Shit.
“...You know we wouldn’t have helped if we didn’t like ya, yanno?”
…Toshiaki looked up, finally. Still askance, but it was progress.
Miku leaned against the doorway. Thinking of that dweeb’s words…what was his name, again?...she let one arm fall to the side.
“Even if you hadn’t been as much help to everyone as you were–and obviously I signed on late, yeah, but I can figure by the way everyone yaps about ya that you pulled your weight and cracked some shit open–you’re just good company.”
Toshi’s gaze darted to the corner. “Good…company?”
“Yeah. You’re like… dammit…”
Her brow furrowed as she snapped her fingers a few times.
What was that thing?
She’d done a damn project on it in middle school. It was the last one picked because she hadn’t been there the day everyone else did because the bus just didn’t fucking show up, and she thought it sounded lame-o at first, but the more she read in the school library–
“Capybara!”
“Ca-pi…ba-ra?” He scratched at his scar briefly.
“Yeah! It’s a big fuckin’ rodent that lives in Brazil–biggest rodent in the world, apparently! And while they’re totally capable of fucking someone up–”
She’d woke up on the ground. Just trying to remember what he’d said after he stepped back was giving her a throbbing headache, which didn’t exactly go well with what she could feel was a black eye and a busted lip. (And the hangover.)
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She liked to hunt giants, when it came down to this. Almost her specialty. Bigger guys fell harder. Guys in general, especially ones from ‘nicer’ places, were hesitant to hit a girl. And if they got their asses whupped by a woman smaller than themselves, well, they probably wouldn’t want to share the story, even with the pigs.
This guy hadn’t looked that strong at all. Maybe it was hidden by that bulky windbreaker–again, the perils of liquid courage–but he just seemed like a tubby boy. Not someone who could juke her so hard that she’d be coming to grips with how to feel it.
Even once she’d gained her bearings, she was confused by how little she remembered. She couldn’t remember him bringing out any kind of weapon, or wearing something that could conceal one, or even reeling back to hit her.
…No, he’d reached down and…just grabbed a fucking stick.
Shit, was she gonna have a splinter in her fucking eye? This sucked so much ass that it made her flash back to her grandma raving about that Broadcaster B replacing Broadcaster A and being so sure it was because B had been a brown-noser–
Grandma.
She’d shoved her hand in her pocket at the very thought, and her heart sank. There seemed to be some piece of paper, but definitely not the packet that comprised the prescription that she needed. Shit. Shitshitshit fucking shit. If I lost it, she’s–
She grabbed the slip and pulled it out. It was a small note, written on a brittle, yellowed, warped scrap of paper. It was definitely older than her. Maybe it was older than Grandma.
The handwriting was shaky.
[Sorry. I got scared and attacked. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.
But now I can tell you’re definitely not the threat I thought you were.
I’ll make it up to you, okay? But you need to hear me out.
I took the prescription. I’m going to fill it. Meet me where the water rolls–]
–wait, that guy knew where the illegal den was?--
[--and we’ll talk.]
Signed with a henohenomoheji.
…
“--most of the time, they’re totally chill! So chill that other animals just chill out around them like it’s a thing to do. Crocs, lizards, birds, local dogs…”
“‘Chill out’? You mean it…relaxes them?”
“Sorta, maybe? More like…they’re just there together. Being together. Like, it’s a thing to do, yanno? Sometimes people just hang around near each other and it’s a thing. That’s…all it’s gotta be.”
…She’d let her other arm down, and taken a step towards Toshiaki from the doorway as his gaze straightened out and panned up.
“All it’s gotta be…?...”
He bit his lip again for a moment, but soon let the pressure bay, a smile returning to his face.
“...Okay.”
“Yeah. It’s nice just to have ya ‘round. So, y’know. I’m totally cool with you hangin’ around here to make sure nobody’s got your scent that shouldn’t.”
…Her mind rewound for a moment.
“Didn’t mean to–throw you off with the whole water bill thing. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I just…I’m not used to this kind of generosity.”
Miku’s eyes flicked around the room. Crack there. Mousehole there. Ratty-ass caulk job over there.
“...Just what worked. Anyway.”
Miku sat down on the couch next to him, only now being cognizant of how she’d drifted closer as they’d had their exchange, and how Toshiaki’s gaze had remained mostly constant towards her as she’d slipped from the entryway to his side.
Her hands settled into a conjoined fist, firmly in her lap.
“...You got the call, right?”
A deal held and having been held since shortly after the group had stormed the lighthouse. Not everyone could stay within the town for long–to the point, the priest had to go back to his…priest place to actually become an actual priest, and Moriko’s dad had been expecting her back. After some deliberation, Toshiaki had entrusted the Necronomicon to Moriko, seeing as her place was harder to get to, easier to guard, and had the aim and trigger fingers of the Ishii family protecting it, versus all the potential bullshit that could go on in a place where a lot of priests are doing priest things and where, more importantly, people know there are priests doing priest things.
So they’d arranged to call, now and then. And they’d never say the word, of course, or anything close. Just slip in a code word if something was vaguely to acutely amiss.
“Yeah. She’s doing well, don’t worry.”
“Thank fuck.”
For a moment, something still felt amiss in the pit of her stomach. Again, something about his gaze.
His eyes.
Even if he hadn’t been in that same stupid windbreaker, she would have known him by his eyes.
Even for his size, he seemed out of place here–enough that he was getting leers from the more expected clientele there, alongside the staff. Wondering if he knew where he really was, no doubt. Either he didn’t, and might run and bear witness to those who had no business here; or he did, and he might be waiting to learn something to blow it all up.
She knew he knew, but…
…
She found the table where he was and sat herself down firmly across from him. It wasn’t worth it to bother with the mask. Everyone else here knew her–and well enough that they seemed to obscure shock at the fact that she seemed to have been on the receiving end of something nasty for once.
He’d blinked a few times before letting out a little ‘oh’, and reaching into his pocket.
She knew how those pills sounded. How they rattled inside their bottle when they were jarred from their position. There was no doubt in her mind that he had those pills.
“...Why?”
“Huh? I didn’t even–”
“I was about to fucking gank you.”
She’d feel the crusty old wood the table was made of give way beneath her nails.
“You know that, don’t you?”
“...Yeah. You’re not the first.”
Matter-of-factly, as if he was rehashing something. Something he was still, nevertheless, tired of. She couldn’t help but gawk, and he simply looked back. Looked back at her.
And then, they darted to the sides as his seat ground against the floor.
“...Can we take this to the back?”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a lot of details. And I don’t know who’s listening.”
She’d taken the risk.
Was it worth it?
…Oh. She was laying down on the cushion now, legs draped over the arm of the sofa, looking up at him. Wasn’t her fault that sitting down like that was a shitty way to stay still, but it also wasn’t a problem on Toshi’s end that prompted him to look at her differently. Kinda had to if he wanted to keep it up.
“...See anything out there that you think I oughta know?”
“I mean, aside from rain, not really. I heard a siren in the distance once, but that could… reasonably be a lot of things…”
“About three hours ago?”
“Yeah, actually!”
“Fire truck. Saw it come past while I was takin’ out some trash.”
She’d said it quite casually, of course. Usually, it’s not something you think twice about; and in her case, seeing a fire truck brought quite some relief at the fact that it’s not a cop car comin’ for her or anyone else.
…But the shift in Toshiaki’s expression
was also something she remembered way too well.
“Who the fuck goes to a museum for fun?”
“I did! Or at least my parents brought me to them a lot as a kid, and I always enjoyed them, and the History Club went to ours a lot too–”
“--right, the kinda person who’s into history and shit, of fucking course. Get to the goddamn point!”
…Like that. A twitch of the eye, a curl of the lip, a sniffle, would’ve been pathetic if he hadn’t
gone off.
“Well, which one do you want me to get to.”
Usually, people got a lot louder when they got mad. What the hell was this, then, that he had hushed so much and yet seemed so densely furious that she couldn’t take her eyes off him?
“Because the reason that I am trying to explain is because if I just, I just get to the point like you’re telling me, then you’re just going to think I’m nuts.”
“Oh, fucking please–”
“I caught them sacrificing someone, found out they’re trying to get the statue to crack open and unleash a living fire, and I haven’t seen my parents in months because I know they’re trying to hunt me and I can only hope they’re not caught in the crossfire because nothing seems safe to pray to anymore.”
…
Straight-faced.
She just sat there. Trying to make sounds only resulted in her looking like a caught fish.
…And then, he breathed out, and the tension fell from his shoulders.
“...But I found some people that had their own issues, and…we can use all the help we can get.”
“...Living fire?”
“One that would make Shiokawa into a really terrible barbeque.”
…She’d invited him here to hear the more sensitive details. It wasn’t until all the doors were locked that he’d mentioned the Necronomicon–and apologized again for knocking her cold, explaining that he’d used it to power himself in anticipation of a much more horrid foe previously. It was never meant for her, precisely, but he figured he should take the power earlier to make sure nothing could trip him up.
She’d asked what exactly that foe was.
…
…She gave a slightly bitter chuckle.
“As opposed to one every other hour, remember?”
A moment of processing later, and his expression softened back–though the scar across his cheek still seemed to highlight a hard line. “You’re right. Honestly, I hadn’t even noticed them getting to that point, but now that you mention it…I’ve barely heard a siren every other day since we interrupted the ritual.”
“Yeah. Sometimes ya don’t realize how bad things get until it’s off your shoulders.”
“...Yeah.”
Of course nobody could be sure. Of course nobody could know for sure because…it’s hard to know until something happens, if you’re not actively poking into people’s business. But that wasn’t the role she filled.
“...Though, now that I know that…y’know, the pilot light isn’t gonna reach out and grab me anymore…”
She looked to him once again, hands tucked beneath her head.
“...Would it be okay if I cooked something? For everyone?”
“Whaaat?” For the first time in a while, her face broke out into a grin. “Totally! As long as it’s not too hard for Grandma to get down, or anything! Why’d you think you had to ask!?”
“...Too hard?”
“Look, there’s a reason I’m a waitress and not a fuckin’ cook, capiche?”
“Capiche. But…probably related to that, there’s not really…much I can use, is why…”
…Right. There probably wasn’t too much lying around. But it was definitely cheaper than getting carryout every day, even with her bringing home leftovers from work now and then…
“...Can you make anything with it?”
“Ochazuke?”
“Then do that tonight, and tell me what you want me to get for tomorrow.”
In one smooth motion, she pivoted herself and got her legs firmly on the ground before rising to them, which naturally prompted Toshiaki to stir in surprise.
“Right now!?”
“Ochazuke, if ya don’t mind. Think about tomorrow’s plans while ya do. For now…”
She headed for the doorway again, but stopped within it to take a glance back.
“I guess that
I’ve got some business
to do.”