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Kanata Shinkai spent his days, more often than not, pondering his future while relaxing near the ebbing tides of the place he once considered his home. Gazing up to see the midnight sky and bright stars twinkling in its darkness, he let out a melancholic sigh. Reminiscing in all of his Yumenosaki days, he was an almighty god, a deity blessed with the ability to grant wishes for the people–that is until everything he once knew about the land twisted itself into a curse–, and he discovered what it meant to truly be human. His strange otherworldly demeanor landed him a title as one of the Oddballs, and Kanata can’t say he disliked being considered ‘eccentric'. Human affairs were always too complicated with layers of truth hidden under deceit and malice, so he felt it unnecessary to interfere with silly matters. Only seeking to fill his followers with happiness and gratitude, Kanata Shinkai accepted his role as a member of Yumenosaki’s Oddballs, even if it did lead to his inevitable demise shortly after.
Chiaki Morisawa was the sickly human that dragged him out of the water, permanently leaving Kanata observant of the ocean rather than going home to it. He appreciated Chiaki, really. The adoration and love he found in being an idol with Ryuseitai wouldn't have happened without the tokusatsu-obsessed boy. It’s just some days, Kanata thinks, he yearned to return to the sea for no good reason. It was a difficult task, especially during his second year, to rescind his entire belonging to the ocean and place it into Ryuseitai. Yet over time, Kanata learned to experience every bit of human life, from the smiles on his fellow unit members’ faces after an exhilarating performance to the tears those same faces harbored when Ryuseitai finished its final show together.
After Ryuseitai officially disbanded so each member could pursue other things in life and close the chapter they opened in their adolescence, Kanata’s idol work died with it. Being an idol to support Chiaki in all his endeavors was all Kanata presumably cared for in his years. Whether he was successful as an idol or popular in modeling hardly mattered to him. As Ryuseitai’s name fizzled out from the industry, only to become a name of the distant past and radiating youth, Kanata began working full-time at his aquarium. Life in the aquarium was slow, and he spent his breaks watching his fish friends swim aimlessly from one end of the tank to the other. Times like this make Kanata miss his idol work where the constant activity kept him busy for long enough until the next event was announced. He missed Chiaki’s boisterous laughter filling the practice room before Midori tells him to shut up in one way or another. He missed Shinobu’s not-so-discrete ninja techniques and Tetora’s fiery determination to make the most of his circumstances, even when he initially didn’t like being a part of Ryuseitai. He missed the way he and Chiaki would receive frantic texts from their juniors when they were late or the faces Shinobu would make when a clear argument broke loose without their seniors present.
Yumenosaki was but only a small ripple in Kanata’s life. There were weeks when he believed the world around him was stagnant, and other weeks when he believed the world began to leave him behind. Too soon had they moved on from Ryuseitai’s final show. Too soon had they moved on from regularly performing stunts on stage for the children and fangirls alike. Too soon had Kanata moved on from the people he cherished and claimed he’d protect for an eternity. Too soon had that eternity come to an end.
He was still sitting on the very shore where his time in Ryuseitai first began, his signature subconsciously written out in the sand before the tide swept it away. Kanata was left with nothing but his own thoughts and the quiet lull of the ocean. Like all the other nights before, he’d let himself be taken by the ocean’s song, flopping down onto the cool sand until the hopeless cycle of working at his aquarium started again.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“I knew I’d find you here, Kanata.”
Kanata, curious of the sudden and rare distraction in his night, opened his eyes to see the mysterious voice belonging to Shu Itsuki himself. The tailor hovered over Kanata’s face, blocking the moonlight. The latter sat up and invited Shu to sit next to him, which he agreed to. For a few minutes, the two ex-Oddballs sat in a comfortable silence, neither wanting to disturb the peace that the ocean tides brought. Eventually, Kanata spoke up.
“what brings you ‘back’ here? i thought you were ‘tailoring’ in ‘paris’.”
Shu sighed softly. “...It was simply a taste of nostalgia. I have no need to be out here, especially this late at night, but I suppose part of me simply misses Japan,” he paused to look at Kanata before continuing, “And dare I ask what compelled you to lay on the beach alone at midnight?”
“there is no ‘particular’ reason, shu~. i like the ocean. i ‘always’ have.”
“Well”, Shu began, light chuckle trickling into his words, “if you haven’t made that clear in the years I have known you, then consider me oblivious to the natures of the world.” Shu turned to look at the moonlit ocean, small waves approaching before becoming sea foam that bubbled at his feet. “You haven’t changed at all, have you?”
It was less of a question and more of a statement. Kanata had never considered that he changed, and believed those around him were the changing ones. It was even obvious in Shu, who had grown a little broader, gained a more refined face, and his hair seemed a little longer. Kanata was Kanata. He was Ryusei Blue. He was an Oddball. He was a god. All these were mere titles he once possessed, but Kanata himself had never strayed far from the personality he always displayed.
“i ‘suppose’ i have not. i never ‘considered’ it.” he simply responded.
“Morisawa would certainly kill you for saying that,” Shu muttered. Of course, surrounded by the silence and soft waves, Kanata picked up on the line.
“chiaki would never ‘kill’ me. he is my ‘hero’~♪.”
“Non! You were not to take my meaningless uttering literally,” Shu suddenly shouted, rising to stand up before pulling something out of his pocket, “...And our old friends would disagree with your belief.” Shu handed Kanata a deep red envelope with a golden wax seal gluing the flap shut. “The boy wanted me to give this to you. Now if you will excuse me, I shall take my leave. Kagehira will worry if I am not back soon.”
Kanata grabbed the envelope, curious of its content, thanking Shu as the latter was already walking away. He watched as Shu’s silhouette faded into the night, leaving him alone with the shore once again, though slightly more content than usual. Kanata read the letter and smiled not for the aquarium customers, not for the children at the park, but for himself. The stars twinkled a little brighter in the sky.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Kanata nii-san has arRIVED.”
The bumbling of the circular table adorned with foods ranging from pastries to cocktails died down as Kanata was the last of the five to appear. The other four seated glanced up at him. Immediately, Kanata recalled their first gathering only a year after their executions. How evident time has passed, visibly remembering the once youthful faces of his peers.
“Fufufu, it has been a long ten years since we have all met together, has it not?” The now global celebrity Wataru asked, almost like he read Kanata’s mind.
“As a vampire, I cannot say ten years is a long time. It is merely a fraction of my lifespan,” Rei added with a husky voice and relaxed smile. Shu only scoffed at his statement. The same as usual, Kanata thinks.
“Please take a seat, Kanata nii-SAN,” Natsume motioned to the vacant chair across from him, “let us catch UP.”
“uwaaaah~ the food looks ‘delicious’~♪” Kanata finally said.
“Of course, for it was made with utmost precision! Nothing can compare to the culinary arts practiced, refined, and performed eloquently and efficiently by yours truly,” Shu boasts.
“Oho? But I heard from Kagehira you would not rest for days until all the dishes were perfected. You love us that much, don’t you Shu?” Rei teases, obviously trying to poke fun at the perfectionist.
“Hmph, I never said anything of the sort,” Shu simply answered. The vampire chuckled before shifting gears to Natsume. “So Sakasaki-kun, please enlighten us on your true intentions as to why we are gathered here.”
The table quieted, leaving all eyes on Natsume, who only shook his head and sighed.
“Don’t make me sound like a vilLAIN. I figured since I saw that we were all back in Japan for the time beING, we might as well reconNECT. As Wataru nii-san SAID, it has been a lengthy deCADE,” Natsume pauses, “BeSIDES, it’s hard trying to get Wataru nii-san to stay in one PLACE, especially since he’s super famous NOW.”
“Mm yes, I had no doubts Hibiki-kun would be able to expand his audience outside of Japan, especially with his abilities. If anything, I’d like to believe he was the most eccentric of us all,” Rei added, drinking a bit of his cocktail between lines.
“Amazing~☆! You flatter me Rei, truly. I am nothing but a humble magician who seeks to uncover the truths and lies of this very realm~” Wataru announces, seemingly planning to go on a very long tangent, “but alas, we are not here to listen to my life story. Since you arrived last Kanata, why don’t you indulge us in what you’ve been up to?”
Once again, all eyes shifted to Kanata. They sat there with longing looks, expecting drastic changes from the former idol. Shu was especially focused on him, waiting to see if he would remember what he said on the beach that night. Kanata still felt he did not change. He saw himself every day. He worked the same shift every day. He met the same regular customers and sold the same merchandise. All the fun ocean facts he kept stored in his brain never changed, and the patterns on the old jellyfish he rehomed didn’t change either. Despite how little Kanata thinks he has deviated from his past, he decided it was time to confront the event that affected him most–for them, and for himself.
Breaking the silence and his long spiraling monologue, he quietly said, “ryuseitai ‘disbanded’. i think ‘everyone’ knows though.” If the four weren't attentively listening, they might have missed it. Kanata didn't expect an immediate response. He was okay with sitting in silence together, yet…
“That was Morisawa-kun’s unit, wasn't it?” Rei questioned in an attempt to pick the conversation up. Nobody said it, but their glances were enough to exchange their condolences to Kanata.
Avoiding Rei’s question, Kanata follows up by stating, “i work at my ‘aquarium’ now. it is ‘different’ from ‘hero’ work, but it is equally as ‘enjoyable’.”
“Is Kanata nii-san done with the idol induSTRY?”
With a bated breath and eyes redirected onto the small pastry he began to nibble on, he answered, “i ‘suppose’. with chiaki ‘moving’ onto bigger ‘projects’, i do not want to hold him back.” The others shifted their gaze onto their own objects of interest. Wataru’s face displayed several emotions, one of pity, one of anger, one of total neutrality, all before settling on a softer smile.
“...Amazing~☆!”, the magician yelled out, startling the others. “It seems our dear little Kanata has not yet seen the melancholy on his face when he thinks about his beloved unit! Now Kanata, tell me… why do you still think so fondly of a unit long gone?”
Why? Kanata owed his newfound life on the land to Ryuseitai. He owed his understanding of human complexities and emotions to them and Yumenosaki. He owed his life to Chiaki for saving him that fateful day. What was this kind of feeling? Why did his heart feel so heavy yet so light when thinking about his times with his beloved unit? Why did he yearn for the past when outlandish things happened just because it was an average day for Ryuseitai? Kanata was alright accepting he was no longer an idol. He was content with working at his aquarium. What exactly did he miss?
“You missed the bonds you created with your pals, Shinkai-kun,” Rei stated as a matter-of-fact, interrupting Kanata’s descent down into the deep unexplored ocean and snapping him back to reality, surrounded by his fellow Oddballs.
“Fufufu, yes, Rei is correct. Idol work is not for everyone. Take a look at us here! Natsume became a full-time fortune teller. Not even I stayed with fine, as much as I’d like to. And I heard Undead recently had an indefinite hiatus, no?”
“You would be right, though I believe it is too soon to discuss.”
“Fufu, I apologize.” Wataru half-heartedly said. “Anyways, it’s perfectly normal and even encouraged to miss your idol days! Not much can replace such an experience. Believe me, I have thought about fine several times during these past few years, though we fell apart due to…” Wataru pauses wistfully, deciding not to continue that train of thought. “It doesn't mean I love them any less, even if I’m not performing with them anymore.”
“Wataru has a point. Although I am still strongly in the industry with Kagehira, I often find us–well, him more than myself–reminiscing Valkyrie’s past from our very own upbringing to our downfall. All are events of the past, yet they define who you are whether you accept it or not. That includes the formation and destruction of Ryuseitai.” Shu adds after listening to Wataru’s own two cents on the topic.
“What you feel, Kanata nii-SAN,” Natsume concludes, “is nostaLGIA.”
“And that is definitive proof that you have changed from the person you were in the past,” Shu reminds, thinking back to Kanata’s opinions of himself. “I am no Morisawa, but I can recall when I utterly despised you for your god complex all those years ago.”
“Shinkai-kun truly has changed, hasn’t he? I’ve watched him from the shadows as he grew more and more human. I suppose I have Morisawa-kun, no, all of Ryuseitai, to thank for that,” Rei says.
“Fufufu, you see Kanata? Although we hardly have time to catch up because our lives are so different, we can reconvene and–” Wataru’s sentence was broken by Kanata’s own tears rolling down his cheeks. He isn’t aware that he’s crying, nor does he notice the sudden change in all their demeanors.
“Kanata nii-SAN…” Natsume whispered softly, wishing he could say more. That cued Wataru to envelop the weeping boy in a comforting hug. It was warm, much like Chiaki’s own hugs when he got too excited about a performance or when he simply appreciated Kanata for sticking around. Natsume went to fill Kanata a glass of cold water and stood beside him. Rei remained seated, feeling silence is the best solution. Shu only stood up to position himself on Kanata’s side and placed his hand on his shoulder. There was nothing more the Oddballs could do but allow their friend to release his bottled-up emotions.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
When Kanata cried, it was not for any particular reason. Maybe it was a response to the sudden love his friends showered him with. Maybe it was the support they reassured him. Maybe it was the realization that Ryuseitai is a memory of the past. Maybe it was missing his old unit members and their frequent antics. Maybe it was longing to return to the ocean where things were much simpler. Regardless, Kanata cried.
“thank you all for ‘comforting’ me. it was very much ‘needed’. i ‘apologize’ for making our ‘reunion’ sad.”
After he recovered from his emotional breakdown, the conversation picked up right where it left off. Rei and Wataru’s constant teasing at Shu and Shu boasting about Valkyrie’s latest success and how “impressed he is with Kagehira’s improved performances” and Natsume’s job as his mother’s fortunetelling successor and Wataru’s experiences around the world. Kanata listened and laughed and radiated a genuine smile while drinking his cocktail. This was it, he thought, this was his family.
Ryuseitai was all he knew and all he ever needed. They were his family when his own failed him. They took him in, sheltered and nurtured him, and released him when the time came. Perhaps this is what Kanata yearned for at the sea. Not for a home that no longer welcomed him, nor the revival of the shell that he considered family, but for a constant in his life once more. His status as a god guaranteed him everything he’d ever need to know until Ryuseitai washed in as a new tide. With them, he was comfortable adapting and learning human society until their inevitable end. Being surrounded by the Oddballs–those of whom he suffered with in the prime of their Yumenosaki days–gave him that sense of comfort he sought in all those years without Ryuseitai. The aquarium, as much as he’d like to say is his home, is not where Kanata learned to truly love. No, Kanata learned to love with the very people he sits with now and those he’d have to call to catch up with soon.
The sky turns from a pretty blue with fluffy white clouds to a deep orange mixed with blushes of reds and pinks. The plates on the table were mostly empty, scattered with remnants of delicious pastries and crumpled napkins. Shu is the first to say his farewells, otherwise Kagehira would most likely crash the party himself. Kanata giggled at the thought of a disheveled Mika bursting through Natsume’s door interrogating his Oshi-san for his whereabouts despite Shu telling him where he’d be hours prior. Rei was the second to leave, thanking Natsume for inviting him to join the small party. Wataru dramatically took his leave, disappearing with a magic trick and a bow to the very small audience of both Natsume and Kanata.
“You are the last one LEFT, Kanata nii-SAN.” Natsume points out.
“yes~♪ i am ‘happy’ you invited ‘everyone’ again, nacchan. i ‘missed’ them a lot.” Kanata hums, slowly helping Natsume gather the dirtied dishes.
“I can clean the dishes mySELF,” Natsume insists, “You probably have to go back to the aquarium SOON.”
“i do not ‘feel’ like it, so i will stay here a little ‘longer’. i do not mind ‘cleaning’ up.” Kanata argues. In reality, he wanted to bask in the happiness left by the other three and felt that if he exchanged his own farewell, Natsume too, would suffer loneliness.
“If you inSIST, then I don’t MIND.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Kanata Shinkai spent his days, more often than not, keeping himself busy with events besides the aquarium. He booked tickets to see a Valkyrie concert. He liked every new post from Undead, who seemed to have fixed their near unit-ending scuffle and are back on tour. He bought merchandise from Wataru’s pop-up shop in Tokyo despite laughing at the ridiculous cardboard cutout of Wataru standing in front. Kanata walked past a large banner advertising Chiaki’s latest movie outside of a newly renovated Greengrocer Takamine. He saw street performers throwing shurikens and mimicking a stereotypical ninja scene in the standard black outfit. On a nearby post, a flyer advertising Iron Tiger Dojo was quickly tacked on like there was a competition for who could post more flyers in a day.
Kanata Shinkai believed that departure across new horizons meant losing his family to the world’s cruel grasp again. Lately, he noticed, he has been proven wrong.