Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kazumi Mishima is a man who lusts for wander.

His urges had never let anyone be injured or killed, thankfully. Albeit he would never confess to such a thing; he partakes in many avocations asides his main occupation like: teaching cooking lessons with the old ladies in the neighbourhood, taking in addition classes for students who failed their subjects, after-school drawing lessons for all his students, etc.

He’s someone with a lust that could never be contained inside penitentiaries. Momentarily, perhaps, but no such person could stop a force as tremendous as his when put on the face of predicaments. His fellow students assert his helpfulness, being still in contact with many after their graduation, such as Miss Nao for example.

She is his pride and joy– a live example of how well his schooling techniques work in the long run. Maybe one day she, herself, could be an extraordinary professor. He prays for that wonderful future every time he hikes inside his mind palace, manifesting so much for any sight regarding that bright dream.

Life should have been easier with her– and him for that matter. Kazumi never thought he would be abducted while he was on-duty, driving the kids to their home as he vowed to their families. Miss Nao was the last one to drive, only minutes away from her house. It’s plainly obvious–now he thinks about it–that there were no checkpoints near the Egokoro household. Maybe if he honed his skills of observation and deduction, he might have manoeuvred around that cursed place, and escaped this successful attempt from the unknown culprits.

‘Professor, I hope I get to show you something by the end of this month! I’ve been working really hard on it.’

Telling him something like this hours before the kidnapping occurred lit flames in his heart. She sounded so joyous, shying away from his curious glances with her delivery. There is something that she wanted to finish, and the undeniable facts hold him in a chokehold; being with him that late at night caused her to be involved. She was brought along because of him. That’s the truth. He dragged her to her demise. So, he won’t rest until he takes her by the hand and returns home safely together, for Miss Nao’s sake first and foremost. She deserves this much. He will do anything to assure her death doesn’t fall before his, aiming so high to ensure that she never starves nor parches long enough without water.

That’s what he strategized originally, discarding everything about being a fine man for Miss Nao’s safety; keep her safe and sound, well-nutritioned and happy, for as long as he can. However, meeting these strangers in shared isolation, who are deprived from their previous lives in this island, has changed him perhaps to a finer person. They, who are as unfortunate as them, were at different ages. Some were adults and others were teens and young children. They, also, desired survival above anything else, but they decided to work together for their best interest. He was willing to cooperate till he saw a way to escape, but… now, he loves them so much. To even think he would abandon one of them for better continuance, how ludicrous. He can be a hypocrite as much as he pretends to be a saint.

Sighing, he stands against the breeze, their words echo clearly in his mind, lonesome and pensive. allowing the recollections of many encounters to flow, he ensnares himself within them for a while.

‘You’re a man of great finesse, Professor.’ Miss Sara cheerfully declared, holding a wooden stick at hand.

‘Y’know how to ease my worries, teach!’ Joe barked, beaming the brightest amongst the stars.

‘Let’s assemble these shells together next time, Mishima.’ Kai announced, grabbing the handmade necklace with pride.

‘Yer an amazin’ teach, Mishima. Coulda ‘ad a lad like ya in my youth.’ Q-taro assured loudly, cracking his knuckles.

Another wave of winds slaps him out of his daydreaming, rendering him hotter than he could ever be. Wearing a suit while working isn’t his finest choice, it seems. Equatorial weather permits him to dress less, only with shirt and trousers on. He sets his blazer on a nearby rock, then his necktie. The heat is maddening to an extent, cutting the threads of his sanity as he bathes in the waft. The sorrow which hollowed his core is resurfacing, is opening gates to repugnant cogitation, and inundates him inwardly.

He’s trying to forget. But much to his anguish, he reminds himself of what happened the night before.

It was the aurora of a new, sunny day. He bounced to his feet, soaring amongst the safest of the base his fellow crafters and he were repairing last night with vigour. Hands behind his waist, he glanced at the shaded ocean. A twinkle was forming on his lips as he swung towards the first person to awaken from their slumber. He greeted them, accustomed to an old habit he couldn’t get rid of after all those years.

“Good morning, dear Kai. I see you’re awake,” Kazumi couldn’t hide the faint proud smile.

Kai nodded back in acknowledgment. “Good morning, Mishima. I’m delighted to see you.”

“Is Q-taro awake? He’s usually jogging around this time,” He rubbed his chin, deep in thoughts.

“I've left his share of the meal near a rock he stops by, I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” The homemaker smiled softly. “Should we wake them up? We have a lot of work to do on this day.”

“But of course! We should! Shall we regroup in the same spot after?”

“We shall,” Kai tightened his apron’s ties, eyes sparkling with determination. “I’ll see you in a bit…dear.”

Kazumi smiled, pleased by the unexpected endearment from the homemaker. “Likewise, Kai.”

The professor checked his appearance again before he began his daily routine energetically.

-Walking up his comrades for breakfast.

“You’ve cooked an amazing dish, Kai. The seasoning is superb this time,” Kazumi eyed the cooking station, curious to how the homemaker was able to bring flavours he never thought he would taste in a deserted islet.

“It's a family secret,” Kai answered. “If someone knew I leaked one recipe, you and I would be killed.”

Kazumi swallowed, feeling the sweat trailing down his back. “...Really?”

“No, I’m half-joking. Although, preferring to keep it a secret is not a joke,” He started collecting plates from the other survivors, nodding to the ones who thanked him for making such great food.

“Oh my, I don’t know what’s real and fake with this man,” The professor whispered, wiping the drips from his forehead.

“Don’t mind him that much, Professor,” Miss Nao stood next to him with a broad smile. “His sense of humour is quite the refreshing one…” She hugged herself, shivering at a memory she recalled.

“Perhaps. But it comes from the kindness within his heart, I’d say,” He explained. “A man such as Kai is assumed to be…hollow inside. This man shattered that stereotype quite easily.”

“Yeah! Mister Kebab really knows how to blow people’s minds away!” Joe chimed in, beaming like his usual self.

“Mister Kebab?” Miss Sara questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“‘Tis nothin’, Sara,” He answered her, laughing. “It’s between me and Kai.”

Kazumi grinned. “You’re making friends yet again, Joe.”

“Heehee…” Joe rubbed his neck, cheek reddening. “Friends’d be an exaggeration. We’re…uhm…opponents! Yeah! That’s what we are.”

Miss Sara and Miss Nao exchanged wryly looks like Kazumi nodded in understanding. “Learning how to cook to impress Miss Ryoko. That’s admirable of you, Joe.”

The blush painted darker in the boy’s cheeks, rendering him speechless.

“Oh my my,” Miss Sara covered her mouth with her palm, eyes narrowed with a mischievous glint. “Love birds don’t know when to rest.”

“Quit it, Sara!” Joe whined, hiding his face. “It isn’t ‘bout that!”

“Oh?” Miss Sara drew close to Joe, smirking. “Then, what is it about?”

Kazumi straightened his back again, holding back a teasing comment himself. Youth was a wonderful thing, indeed.

“And she’s back at teasing him,” Miss Nao chuckled, mirroring the professor’s gesture. “Are you gonna give your daily work assignment to others, Professor?”

“Yes…as soon as I see Gonbee and Miss Reko–”

Miss Nao gasped, interrupting Kazumi. “She must’ve gone back to sleep! Give me a second, please!” And she ran towards the wooden structure.

He shook his head, not surprised in the slightest. The nice energy this group had reminded him a lot of his youth. Not like he was joyous of such a past, but where there was bad, there was good. To that, he took a breath and sauntered towards every person he saw, giving them instructions for the day's job.

-Dividing work amongst the healthy ones.

There was one thing the professor had to do before starting, though.

Kanna was injured the day before via an unforeseen trap. It weighed badly on his conscience, leaving her all alone while the others worked on their jobs; he settled on taking a look at her. Just to see how well she was doing. He entered the cabin, tiptoeing towards her room. He didn’t want to make a noise in case she was asleep. A few seconds later, he arrived by her room. The door was wide open, betraying what Kazumi thought in the beginning. She was awake, perhaps waiting for someone to come and chat for a bit.

Kazumi peeked into the room. “How are you feeling, Miss Kanna? Are you resting well?”

“Mister Mishima!” Miss Kanna put her plate to the side, delighted to see him. “Kanna’s doing better than before, thank you for asking.”

“May I enter?” He kindly smiled, waiting for her response.

“Yes! Of course, Mister Mishima!” She set her hands on her lap, her usual timid nature was taken over. He grabbed a chair, pulling it next to her bed. He rested on the chair frame, resting his cheek there. Not a usual thing for him to do, but some bad influence had let him to adapt this habit, albeit willingly.

“Do you want to talk for a bit? I haven’t gotten any updates on your predicament, Miss Kanna.”

“No no! Kanna wants to talk with you!” She took the plate again. He closed his eyes, sharpening his senses to hear what she wanted to say.

“Kanna thinks she found the meaning of love here.”

Kazumi snapped his eyes open, shaken up by the sentence. “Wha…?”

Her cheeks turned pink, lowering her head. “You heard Kanna.”

“Miss Kanna…” He nervously swallowed, fixing his sitting position. “How did you…?”

She covered her face, kicking her feet against the blanket. “Oooh, Mister Mishima! You shouldn’t be asking Kanna that! It’s embarrassing!!”

He coughed, still troubled by the implications of such discovery. “Is it your own discovery or…?” His hands were trembling, not wanting to ask any further questions.

“YES! Kanna is very happy to witness love bloom here,” She squealed, clasping her hands.

“...Is it someone here?” He felt the anxiety hitting his chest repeatedly as soon as he opened his mouth.

Kanna nodded. “Multiple people here.”

“WHO? Is it one of the adu–”

“Mister Mishima.” She stopped looking giddy. Her facial expression turned unimpressed. “Do you honestly think Kanna would fall in love with a stinky adult?”

Ooh, that hurt. That hurt badly. They must find a way to shower more efficiently after he finished talking with Miss Kanna here. That should be arranged later, though. On a lighter note, it seemed like Miss Kanna wasn’t in love with anyone here which made the professor relax significantly.

“Then…? Is it–uhm…someone else you were talking about?”

She giggled. “Yeah! Kanna saw Reko and Nao holding hands the other day! It was so cute~! There is also Joe and Sara! And–! And Mister Gonbee and Kai! Kyaaaaaa!” She punched the wall several times as she continued to screech.

Kazumi wore a wry smile. “I believe that’s normal between friend–”

“Love knows no boundaries or gender, Mister Mishima. I thought you knew better! Since you act like a lovestruck fool with Mr Policeman,” Miss Kanna gave him another disappointed look.

Kazumi felt another wave of pain washing over him. He really was digging his own grave here, wasn’t he?

“That doesn’t mean that–”

“Mister Mishima.” Miss Kanna removed her bucket, sending daggers at him. “Are you telling me love can’t bloom on this island after all?”

“Uhm...Uhm…That’s–,” He stood up in a hurry, feeling blood rush through his veins. “It was nice talking to you–”

“Mister Mishima!!!”

-Taking a look at Miss Kanna’s injury.

Now that he visited Miss Kanna–he was almost about to get hit with her bucket for asking idiotic questions–he strode outside the cabin, smelling the salty air in contentment. The weather was superb, inviting him to a nice stroll within the island’s nature. As he marched towards the forest to gather some reservoir, he noticed Kai and Miss Nao whispering to each other in a menacing manner.

Maybe it was time to postpone his ventures and see what those two were holding up to.

“Do you need any assistance, my dear fellows?”

Startled, she covered the sand with her whole body. “Professor!”

Kai hid his face behind his pan, shaken up by the abrupt question.

Kazumi bit his lip, feeling sorry for scaring them the way he did. “I apologise for alarming you, but I was wondering about your little activity here. Is that a new project?”

Miss Nao nodded several times in a hurry, sending signals towards Kai who was still not showing his visage to anyone yet. If Kazumi didn’t know her student better, he would have fallen for such an obvious trick.

“Are you lying to me, perchance?” He inquired, not angry at her.

“N-no…” She still was hiding whatever she had drawn with her body, but Kazumi was able to see parts of it. These were enough to give a hint to what Miss Nao was planning all along.

“Miss Nao,” The professor rubbed his eyes before wearing his glasses again. “What…is this?”

Kai wheeled the pan away from his face, his expression as solid as rock. “It is for–”

“Kai, don’t say a word,” She warned, mortified by Kai’s eagerness to answer.

The homemaker made a zipping motion on his mouth, his lips wobbly.

“It’s nothing, Professor! Just some additions I planned to the base with Kai… Please believe me,” Miss Nao begged, almost on the verge of tears.

Kazumi sighed. Being lenient towards that type of thing wouldn’t lead to any good. “Miss Nao…Is this another swimsuit you planned…for me?”

“NO!” She panicked, waving her hands everywhere in an attempt to distract the professor. “It’s for Re–”

Kai decided to cut to the chase with: “Yes, It is made for you, dear Mishima.”

“KAI! You were supposed to be quiet!” Miss Nao cried, shaking her clenched fists.

“Teehee.” The homemaker tried his best to sound teasing. It didn’t work that well. Kazumi noticed.

“There’s nothing funny about that!”

-Working on the little base with Miss Nao and Kai.

Sun was at its highest as the professor pushed himself up with ease. “And this is how you pull yourself up, Sou.”

Sou’s ashen turned paler than Kazumi thought a human complexion was able to do. He stayed silent.

“Is there something you didn’t quite understand?”

Sou shook his head. “I have to do that, too?”

“Yes?” He pushed up with one arm, not once breaking in sweat. “It’s quite difficult at first, but I believe in you.”

Perhaps, it was manipulative of Kazumi to use words that sound pleasing to dear Sou here, but it was the way to push him to exercise with something a bit out of his limits.

“Guh…” Shoulders sinking, he pondered about the whole thing in his mind before he said, defeated: “Alright! …Alright.”

Kazumi chortled, jumping on his feet. “You will try it?” He held the guy’s hands between his. Happiness was overflowing from the professor’s eyes. Sou snatched his hands away, looking uncomfortable at the unexpectedly intimate gesture.

“I’ll do it for you, Mishima,” He started to remove his scarf and beanie, his sight never left Kazumi’s face.

“That’s the spirit!”

Moments later, Kazumi princess-carried the fainted Sou to the base as fast as he could.

-Training with Sou.

Before Kazumi headed back to the forest, the homemaker held him by his arm and requested something unusual.

‘If you see Gonbee around, may you direct him to come here? I need his assistance.’

That was all Kai had said before he turned around and returned to cooking lunch for the survivors. The professor didn’t quite grasp how Kai and Gonbee became such close friends in the span of days, but it made him happier to see them get along in that scenario. Maybe in another life, they wouldn’t have been as close as they were at this moment.

Looking around, Kazumi wondered where the man could have been. It seemed unlikely that he would be roaming in the forest alone, but who knew with Gonbee?

He struck the professor as a man who would challenge anything despite his notable quivers. Finally, after witnessing the blue from afar, he rushed towards the prisoner model who was trying to mimic Miss Sara’s stance with a wooden sword.

How interesting. Kazumi thought Gonbee feared the teenager somehow.

“Gonbee! I’ve been looking all over for you!” He said excitedly, fixing his dangling spectacles.

“Kazumi Mishima,” Gonbee narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side.

“Good day, I see you training like Miss Sara has taught you,” Kazumi placed his hand on his chin, observing how the prison model stood.

“What do you require of me? Don’t you see I’m busy with my training?!” He exclaimed, no real annoyance present in his sentence.

“Kai requested your aid with a dish,” The professor pointed to the wooden structure. “He is expecting you.”

Gonbee let his weapon hit the ground, shocked, before he picked it up in a hurry. “Really?! I’m in your debt, Kazumi!” A ‘where is my apron?!’ could be heard from the man as he changed towards the home everyone helped in building.

Kazumi beamed, walking behind the prison model’s trail. The day was getting better and better with each encounter.

-Sending a message to Gonbee.

The island’s sand was pushing Kazumi to gradually stop near a campfire Sou and Miss Kanna built. The sun was lowering towards a nice, and peculiar, afternoon. He leant on the tree, watching the clouds scatter. How he wished for a pencil right now; memorising the view wasn’t enough, he must draw it–

“Yo, Mishima!”

The abrupt shout jolted him out of his urge to swiftly brush his finger on the soil.

“Good afternoon,” Kazumi fixed his position, hands behind his back.

Miss Reko waved to him. “C’mere, Needja with somethin’ urgent.”

He walked towards her, clearly puzzled by the sudden request. “How can I be of help?”

She fidgeted with an item behind her back. “Y’know Nao for long, yeah?”

“Yes, indeed. I’ve known her for a long time, Miss Reko. Dear Nao’s one of my favourite students,” Kazumi softened, sadness casting on his face for a second. “Well, one of the favourite older students.”

“Hmm… Ya taught her for a while,” She mumbled absentmindedly.

“I did–I still teach her art outside the school curriculum. In my secret atelier, that is.”

“Ya got an atelier?!” She raised her eyebrows, impressed.

“Indeed! It isn’t as enormous as some other designers’, but it does what I require for teaching. And that is all I need from such a place, you see,” Kazumi grinned, pride swelling inside his heart.

“Yeah. Guess old men like you love to waste money.”

He hung his head. “That isn’t it, Miss Reko.”

“Hmm~ Whatever you say, Mishima. Ain’t escaping the truth by denyin’ it like that,” She smirked, so gleeful over her own comment.

“Now that we walked in circles around the topic you require my assistance, may you tell me what you need?”

“Dammit, ya caught me…” She covered her mouth; the other hand was behind her back.

Unbothered by her attitude, he sat on the ground, inviting Miss Reko to sit as well. She didn’t take him on the offer, though. With a quick shake of the head, she looked to the side apologetically. It seemed like Miss Reko had something in mind and wasn’t going to chitter-chatter with him to pass the time at first, but Kazumi ended up chatting her up for a bit to ease her frayed nerves. A tactic he used with Gonbee more than once and it worked quite well with Miss Reko here. Truly, She was akin to Gonbee in more ways than another, Kazumi noted. In some strange sense of deja vu, Kazumi recalled the man showing a similar expression before when he ‘cornered’ the prison model a few days ago.

For what seemed like eternity, She gathered air in her lungs.

“Miss Reko?” Kazumi stood up, worried by the red gathering on Miss Reko’s cheeks.

“Here goes nothin’!” She shoved a handmade necklace to the professor’s face. “W-would she..?” Embarrassed, she trailed off, shuffling her feet around.

So that was the reason for the songwriter’s little interrogation. She had a gift she wanted to give to Miss Nao, and was shy about the whole thing. How adorable of someone as tough as Miss Reko. Absolutely marvellous sight. Miss Nao would have loved to capture it with her brushes.

“She would love it a lot!” He couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. “The emotions behind it are loud and clear, Miss Nao would be able to feel them.”

“Ya think?” Miss Reko played with the necklace, a soft smile plastering on her face.

“I’m sure she would reward you with a kiss,” Kazumi hummed, tapping his glasses with his index finger.

“Wha–” She fumbled on her words, blushing.

“I mean. I would give a small gift in return myself. A kiss would seem appropriate for such–”

“OH–! SHUT THE HELL UP, YA NUTTY OLD MAN! What’re you even sayin’ right now?! It ain’t about ya!” Miss Reko roared, shaking her fist at the professor.

“Uhmm–! It seems like I overstayed my welcome here!”

“Ya sure did, fuck off before I send you to your maker!”

Oops, it appeared that he stepped on a landmine and almost blew up while trying to escape. Did he really have to imagine a scenario like that while Miss Reko was waiting for his feedback on the whole matter. He was acting mad for sure. One-hundred percent out of his mind. How whimsical of him. He should proceed to the next task in his mental list before the sky captivates him anew.

-Foraging with Miss Reko?

“Q-taro, I assure you there is no need to do such–”

“Nuh-uh, Mishima! Gotta do it!”

What happened here was quite the turnabout.

Kazumi had promised the man to be of help in his journey of becoming an excellent coach for the kids in the baseball player’s old orphanage.

That’d have been the case for today as well if the professor didn’t open his mouth and wondered about baseball’s rules out loud. For a teacher like him, he shouldn’t really care about sports, but Kazumi had a thirst for anything that was mildly amusing for his dictionary. And the baseball player perceived that side of the professor in milliseconds and took it upon himself to teach Kazumi first and foremost before he teaches any kids.

If he failed to teach the professor, he still needed more training himself before becoming the dream coach.

“Y’need to loosen up, Mishima. I ain’t biting’ ya!” Q-taro guffawed, putting his hand on Kazumi’s shoulder, and shaking it.

“Just focus on our lessons for the–”

Raising his hand, he interrupted the professor again: “Yer tellin’ me to leave ya uneducated while y’schoolin’ me? No way in hell, awright? Ya teach me, and I teach ya. Ain’t that how ya be doin’ the whole schoolin’ thin’?”

“Yes, but–”

Q-taro glared at him. “Nah buts outta this, mate. Weren’tcha the one who told me to help as much as I can?”

Kazumi fell silent, stretching his cheek.

“Won’tchu? If it ain’t for me, for them kiddos at the orphanage.”

“You’re certain of your choice?” Kazumi sighed, feeling the will to fight getting sucked out of him.

“One-hundred positive, Broski! But first, gotta fix that position of yers. That ain’t how a baseball player stands.”

Broski? Oh, who was he to even question Q-taro’s strange vocabulary, anyways?

Tilting his head, Kazumi straightened his back. “Is this the way I should be standing?”

“Hmmm…” He pondered for a second before he placed his hand on the professor’s back, lowering it slightly. His other hand was on Kazumi’s chest, making sure he perfected the right balance in his stance. “‘Zat’s it! Ya lookin’ like one who can beat the throw with ‘em long legs!

That was an awkward moment for Kazumi, watching the baseball player instructing him with physical touches here and there. He was sure the other man was unaware of how close he was.

“Now, y’undestand how to stand like a catcher,” Q-taro swung the stick. “Y’ready to catch one of my throws?”

Kazumi stretched his neck, rolling his shoulders once before he shouted: “I’m ready, Professor Burgerberg!”

-Schooling Q-taro about teaching.

Miss Sara wrote on the dirt, eyeing the horrified looking boy next to her.

“Identify x’s value, Joe,” She tapped on the sad before handing him the stick. “Write the equation down step-by-step.”

Joe swallowed, sweat starting to drop from his forehead. “Um…can I get a hint?”

“No.”

Joe’s face turned sour, and he stole another glance at the demonic-looking maths problem written for him. “‘M feelin’ a tummy ache already, Saraaa!”

“Joe, you’re supposed to be solving this, not asking for help already!” She put her hands on her hips, exasperated at Joe’s continuous requests for help. “It’s an easy one. It doesn’t have that many steps.”

“How’re you even sure of that?” Joe crossed his arms, sulking. “You’re smarter than me…and love studyin’ so much. Unlike you, I hate studying.”

Miss Sara glowered at him, humphing loudly. “Y’know playing around on this island won’t magically advance your knowledge in maths.”

He grumbled. “I know…”

It was time for Kazumi to join the conversation. “Is it challenging for you, Joe?” He asked, glimpsing at the equestion.

Turning their heads towards the professor, they both exclaimed ‘Professor?’ and ‘Teach?!’ at the same time. He beamed at them, waiting for Joe to answer his question.

“It is, Teach! It’s very hard,” Joe bemoaned, covering his face. “Sara’s bullying me so much!”

“Huh?! I’m not bullying you!” She giggled, shaking her head at the absurdity in front of her.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not!”

“Alright, alright!” Kazumi waved his hands at them. “May I attempt at solving this problem, Miss Sara? I’m not a maths teacher, but I may still remember a bit from my youth.”

She gazed at him, then at Joe, then at him multiple times before she gave in, gesturing to Joe. Booming with energy, he handed the professor the stick. If Kazumi didn’t know better, he would have mistaken the boy for an overexcited puppy, wiggling his tail happily.

“Ahem,” He glanced at the equation presented underneath. “First of all, you try to find the lowest common multiple of denominators. For this, it will be fifteen,” He brushed down the number, lifting his gaze at the captivated, honorary students of his.

“Then, you multiply both sides. When you divide the numbers here.” He wrote on the sand, hoping to god he didn’t mess up already. “Is this clear so far?”

“Sir, yessir!” Joe saluted. Miss Sara rested her cheek on her open palm, listening quietly.

“Collect nine and one-hundred-and-five together which will be one-hundred-and-fourteen. Subtract sixteen from both sides. Hmmm…then simplify value input by six by subtracting from the equation. With that, you will be having …” He drew under the previous step.

“Oh, that looks easier now,” Joe rubbed his chin, impressed. Miss Sara hummed in agreement.

“Divide fifty-four by nine. By the end of it, x should equal… six. Does that feel right to any of you?”

Everyone’s eyes fell on the answer, waiting for it to talk back and tell them the truth. It didn’t do that. How disappointing.

“Hm…probably not, Professor,” Miss Sara stood up, dusting the sand off her. “I made it up so I’m not sure of the answer myself.”

Joe’s face went blank for a second before he gasped: “You planned on making me solve a problem you didn’t know the answer to?! That’s so evil!”

Kazumi pondered about the numbers, engrossed in his own world as Joe and Miss Sara bantered about the whole thing in the background.

It should be six. Right? The professor wasn’t going to lose to some easy equation like this. He erased it, planning to start over again.

-Chattering with Joe and Miss Sara.

The afternoon breeze stilled the professor into watching the cloudless sky, wishing he could paint the breath-taking scenery facing him. The soil beneath him wouldn’t enhance the gorgeous view but would leave it as a mystery. That seemed like a better solution for now. Until he found fruits that he could extract colours from, he would engrave stones and boulders, drag his fingers across the beach's sand, and hope that what his irises were capturing and saving his mind could be transferred easily in reality as beautiful as he had seen it.

It never filled his urges, but it shushed them till the next day, when they growled louder than before. Perhaps distracting himself with another task should stir his oceans into heading forward towards the night. A time of day that became his favourite; a certain face emerged in his mind. He absentmindedly simpered, enthralled by the possibilities that could occur in their next ‘date’ as Keiji Shinogi called them days ago.

But that wasn’t the time for daydreaming over the inevitable, he mentally checked the list, going through all the people he met so far.

-Playing with Gin.

-Chatting with Keiji.

Kazumi paused, rechecking his list. There were two people he hadn't met yet.

Keiji and… Gin.

He didn’t see the young kid anywhere near his usual spot. As they assured a habit of playing as soon as the sun was about to lower from its high. Concerned, he steered to a different direction, praying for a tiny, familiar silhouette or anything that could show a sign. Alas, there was no one to be found which didn’t nothing but added to the disquietude escalating in his thorax. He ran to another location, but no sign of the child was there. His blood vessels pulsated, shoving him into dangerous territories. He cared none about the hazarded traps that filled the isle; his main objective was to find Gin no matter what it took.

Exhaling tiredly, he removes his glasses away. He shuts any further dives into the horrifying situation that dealt a blow to his psyche. More often than not, his heart doesn’t filter to life's strongest waves; he battles to the very end with so little. That’s how he operates. Not this time though, he notices his hand shaking slightly. And he flutters his eyes close, drowning in the everlasting distress.

A few minutes pass, opening his eyes briefly, he swears he sees a crimson mirage in the distance, waving with the sickest grin. Blinking once, twice, thrice till it dissolves within the tides, leaving the professor in a pit of unanswered questions. He puts his glasses back, unbothered by the shivers running across his arm.

It resembles the kid in question, bleeding red. Nauseating, it is. He covers his mouth, mumbling words of affirmation. This incident will lead to his own end somehow, sensing the lurking death creep around. Its whereabouts is unclear. Yet his heart foresees a future where there is no tomorrow for him nor for the people he entrusts with his soul. Ashamed, he wears his spectacles with a sombre heart. Not even the nightglow can soothe the voices residing in his mind.

This islet is eating away at the people dwelling in; that much is plain to see.

With a swift motion, he turns around. At first, his nearsighted eyes couldn’t capture the shadowy figure’s face as they ambled towards him with imposing air.

“Hiya, Mishima.”

The voice is amicable enough for Kazumi to recognise. Rich with a unique raspiness which ensnares the professor expectedly. It’s him.

“Good evening, Keiji,” He greets back with a soft smile. Solely saved for such serendipitous thunderbolts. His eyes draw to the bottle in the detective’s hand. “Another rendezvous this early? The sunset isn’t entirely gone.”

“Felt like it,” Keiji massages his neck, his facial expression unreadable. “Surely you won’t mind another’s company?”

Shaking his head, he gazes at the calm water, mesmerised in the sky’s colourful reflection. “Not at all. You can watch alongside me.”

Keiji mumbles loud enough for Kazumi to hear: “Will be here all ‘round, ‘kay?”

Another nod to affirm that Kazumi heard the detective as his irises never leave the ocean, such intensity he only sends to unbehaved hooligans.

“Worried you might be bothered by me since yesterday…” He murmurs, low and filled with subtle concern.

For a second, Kazumi is fazed by his own choices. He remembers as clear as the sky atop him what he shouted so passionately in that emotional haze. Powerful as a volcanic lightning, he couldn’t help but let his feelings burn so hot he couldn’t see the terror in his companions' expressions. Wrath is a loathsome sentiment; a feeling that buried him under the rubble for the longest time. He knows better than to cling to such a thing.

“I’m not bothered at all.”

“Ocean’s ‘fraid of your glare, Mister Mishima,” It’s light-hearted. Keiji teases, albeit too cautiously.

Really… The policeman shouldn’t sound that careful. It brings a smile to the professor’s face. Well, more than just a smile.

“Mwahaha…” Kazumi snickers. “You sound frightened, Mister Shinogi.”

“Perhaps,” He concedes. “Just a lil… Can’t help myself, I got your panties in a twist.”

“Perhaps running off while we were searching desperately for Gin wasn’t the ideal choice,” Kazumi waves his hand around, turning his eyes to Keiji. “...and returning with Gin, hours after being missing in action, not to mention both covered in blood. That wasn't another favourable choice you made. Anyone would jump to conclusions if they were to see the sight I was greeted with.”

The detective scowls, muttering: “...my bad. I-...I didn’t mean to–”

“I know. I’m being unjust.”

Silence is wallowing them in for a bit before Keiji decides to break free: “Shoulda told you. You were panickin’ from the start, shoulderin’ responsibility the most out of us… and I just disappeared without a peep.”

Kazumi smiles bitterly at the memory. “I apologise for being out of my mind. I graduated from using aggression as a part of my vocabulary, but when angered, I…I find myself pulled back to the way I used to be. How insightful of me.”

“Understood, Mishima. I acted like a mad dog when I heard the news myself. Nothing’s more worrisome like a kid’s disappearance.”

“Indeed…” A light-bulb blinks in Kazumi’s head, reminding him of something. “How is your injury? You were ambushed by those…brutes.”

“Nothin’ worth dyin’ over-” Kazumi squints his eyes. Keiji retracks: “Y’know what I mean. Aside from a few pulses now and then, it’s quite alright. Don’t feel it.”

“I’m glad,” He sighs in relief.

Keiji smiles before he swings the object in his hand. “Now…that you aren't as bothered as you were before, wanna loosen up and stay awake all night? Missed hearin’ the excitement in your voice,” He slightly purrs at the end of his sentence playfully.

“Excitement, you say. I’m not the one who comes with gifts and asks for my company once every seven days, Keiji.” Kazumi finds himself teasing back.

He shrugs. “Y’know me, I don’t seem to like leavin’ ya alone…hafta demystify you a bit each time, wahahaha...”

“And you stupify me more in return,” Kazumi muses in a sotto voce, straightening his back.

Apprentaly the detective heard what he said, leading him to ask this question: “Somethin’s wrong with that, Mishima?”

“On the contrary, it stirs unquietness so deep inside of me. It rather makes me exhilarated to meet you again under the moonlight.”

Keiji quietens, his expression turning blank. Momentarily, Kazumi believes he is seeing fear in these grey eyes which reflect his image perfectly, crystalised a little bit with a glint of hope. The sentiments are rebuilding themselves with the professor’s unintentional help, peeking through silently, and wishing they could be apparent for him only. It terrifies him how close he and Keiji are getting over the course of many days with these few chats that get prolonged for hours.

“‘Fraid I don’t get it,” Keiji breathes, pushing himself within the professor’s world.

Opening his mouth ajar, Kazumi forgets how to speak as the policeman inches closer. He closes his mouth quickly, locking his eyes on Keiji’s, watching every move he makes, and keeps tabs on how fast he’s approaching him.

“What makes you so interested in a guy like me? ‘M not what I seem to be.”

Keiji asks. Fear fueling him to press further.

Kazumi filters. Expectations painting a future for him.

There is no personal space between the two, only centimetres away from each other’s face. The vulnerability in Keiji’s eyes is loud, begging for an answer to a question he can’t wrap his head around. It’s bizarre to see him bleeding raw sincerity after jumping through hoops to avoid any serious conversation that leads to poking at scabbed wounds.

“What draws you to me, it draws me to you,” Kazumi answers, voice unshaken.

“What’s this thing that draws us to each other's arms?”

It's simple curiosity. Eagerness in its earlier stages. Something pure and untainted– A thing that Kazumi desperately wants to hold onto for the time being.

“I-...have yet to think of an answer for such an inquiry, dear Keiji. But–” Kazumi swallows the rest of his sentence, looking away.

“Hm…” He cups the professor’s cheek, thumbing near his lower lip. “What if I helped you find an answer, eh? My detective intuition’s tellin’ me to investigate you.”

Kazumi widens his eyes in bewilderment, snapping his attention back to the detective. “I…”

Suddenly, Keiji steps back, massaging his neck. Hints of mortification aren’t vocalised, but they are evident. “...Sorry. Let’s just– Let’s talk for now.”

“I-Indeed…”

By gods, what in the world just happened?

Kazumi wonders in panic as the azure sky alternates to a subdued twilight, Keiji sits on the golden sand with a wine bottle, smirking as he leisurely taps the place next to him.

“C’mere. Ain’t leavin’ me all alone, are you?”

Unbeknownst to the detective, the man anticipated this rendezvous. As flagrant as his youth, this confrontation was in some of its parts. That is a time of his life in which he wished the earth could swallow him whole for the tiniest indulgence he engaged in, showering him inside with a thrill he never thought he could feel again till now. He recognises this flame burning within his heart, juvenile, but full of leers which no person should receive, particularly in an island that ticks like a time bomb.

As a teacher, he shouldn’t yield to his desire’s whims, trudging towards temptations like an impure hoodlum, and only thrives on his need to stay beside a man–who wishes for his own demise every moonlight–for tittle-tattles.

This fire is threatening to burn the rest of his rationality. Maybe even more so on a tropical evening.

“Of course, I’m not leaving you right now,” He fixes his glasses and clicks his tongue nervously.

It's a habit he never stopped performing since his adolescence. Like a cat on a hot tin roof, he sits beside Keiji, fists clenched. Usually, their gatherings don’t initiate with anxiety such as this– it’s wrapping his insides with a knot tighter than a necktie during an April day. Restlessness isn’t a part of his motto, thus he simplifies his emotions to Epistemophilia; Love of Knowledge.

He doesn’t wish to ravish the man whose shoulder touches his. So close in proximity, it sends all kinds of signals to the professor’s head.

Kazumi Mishima must study; therefore, he fails and learns.

Yet this subject at hand is one of few which he can’t afford utter failure no matter how much he wishes that he could be away.

Swallowing a rock in his throat, he smiles faintly. His eyes sparkle when Keiji returns the smile with a small, genuine one, beautifying his overall exhausted complexion. It alleviates the professor to a degree, lulling his apprehension to sleep gradually. The detective gathers empty coconut shells, opens the bottle easily, and pour wine for both– Keiji’s greys never leave Kazumi’s, he witnesses the way he reads him with a quick scan, committing his ticks to memory.

“Here ya go.” He places the glass next to him, waiting for Kazumi to take the cup into his hands. “Don’t be shy all of the sudden, Mishima. Makin’ me nervous, too,” He laughs, worry is noticeable in his voice.

Holding the shell in his hand, Kazumi takes a whiff of the drink. It smells like the type of drink that could make him tipsy in a few rounds. Excellent, that’s what he needs right now. Sipping slowly, he savours the perfected bitterness. Sourness is undeniably strong in this liquor, knocking his taste buds with a force he wasn’t quite ready for. It isn’t by any means a light type of beverage.

He, himself, feels quite as bitter as the drink wavering in the coconut shell. Backing away in such a moment of intimacy? Really? Are they a bunch of children?

“You understand to some extent what made me nervous in the first place, Keiji,” He lours at Keiji who side-eyes everything but him.

Mimicking the professor, Keiji chugs his share with one go, scrunching his face. “Hoo boy, stuff’s strong. Guh…” He coughs a bit.

If Keiji decided to ignore the targeted jab, then Kazumi won’t comment anymore on the topic.

“The grape’s bitterness is dominating over other flavours in this one,” He circles the coconut shell, locking his eyes on the waves oscillating. “Much to my puzzlement at first.”

“Expectin’ this to be sweeter, didn’cha?”

Usually, when the professor is told to drop a topic, he won’t pursue it as he puts the comfort of others over his. But he isn’t feeling like being mindful for the time being, letting awful, and fast, decision-making take the wheel for this conversation. How ridiculous of that man. Trying to butter him up while he just dared to stop–

Kazumi shakes his head. The rage is chaining him down as strong as the mountains strengthen the ground from earthquakes. It’s turning everything red the longer he looks at the man next to him. It’s burning his head so much; the smoke is blinding him.

“No. Somehow, I anticipated this wine to be on the sweeter side, but some bitterness was needed to wake me up from my reverie. I was foolish to expect something else from wine bottles found on this island,” He finishes the rest of his drink, handing Keiji the made-from-nature cup.

The words are flickering like the blaze, its little sparks engulfing everything in a living inferno. Regret is already gathering over the wrath, ready to shower it with drops of remorse. He wishes he could be angrier than this, but that isn’t a part of his design. Hopefully, there is no need to say anything more.

Well, maybe there is one more thing to say after all. He mumbles: “Will you…?”

Keiji just nods.

The message is intelligible enough: ‘you encouraged me to show my emotions, yet you hid away when reality expected you to show yours.’ The detective must have grasped the severity of the professor’s tone, but once again, he just holds the glass high, letting the content flow to Kazumi’s cup.

“Thank you.” He tastes the wine. How sharp indeed. A scowl is etching on his face for sure.

Keiji’s face is unreadable. “Yup.” He pops the P at the end, so lost in his thoughts.

It’s calm…indicating an upcoming storm. The sun is no longer there, leaving its duty for the moon to pick it up. It’s strangely numbing unlike the times when as this scene streamed euphoria within his vein, allowing him to feel young again. If there were gods above, there would have lessened his predicaments already. He takes his glasses and folds them inside his shirt’s pocket. He doesn’t wish to stargaze with this sour taste on his tongue.

“Did I do something?”

The question pierces throughout the silence, jolting Kazumi from his thoughts. “Hmm?”

Keiji leans back, lifting his head up to the starful night, cheeks slightly flushed. “Not kissin’ you was the wrong thing to do, huh?”

“You have done your investigation quite well, Mister Policeman,” Kazumi praises in a faux glee. His facial expression isn’t a happy one.

He scoffs, laying completely on the sand. “Didn’t think you’d want it that badly.”

“What you think isn’t necessarily the right course of action,” He snarls.

Keiji stares at him with something akin to bewilderment. “I angered you that much, huh?”

Kazumi clenches his jaw, his eyes barely able to see beyond his limited horizon. Ocean’s breeze doesn't feel cold enough to cool him anymore.

“...I’m sorry,” the detective murmurs, resting his hands over his chest. “Really. Didn’t think it’d escalate that much.”

“So, you planned this knowing that it would backfire on you somehow,” The professor confirms, raising an eyebrow at the man. The numbness is ceasing, no longer painting the world crimson. The apology is lulling everything inside Kazumi to a calmer state as if Keiji enchanted his emotions into submission.

“Somehow. I underestimated a lot of things. For goodness’ sake, can’t I plan somethin’ and have it actually work?”

Kazumi feels another emotion taking the wheel, ushering him to sit closer. His heartbeat is rowdy, installing what was pushed away for the sake of burning what little they had going; it’s resurfacing faster than Kazumi could ever stop it.

“‘‘M a fuckin’ mess.”

The professor takes Keiji’s hand, pressing on his knuckles. “Keiji…”

Wind is chiller now, gently brushing against his cheeks as he peers at the fraught man.

“You want to be with me– I recognise that. I surely do, but–” Keiji covers his eyes by placing his arm over them. “I–...I don’t think it’s fair for you. Ain’t gonna drag you with me that way.”

Is that an excuse in some way? No way to find out till he deliberately twists the words to his favour. Kazumi urges to confirm it, just to silence the doubts rising in his mind. “You don’t see yourself committing to a relationship with someone such as–”

“No–!” He removes his arm away, his voice slightly cracking. his irises are turning red. “You-...you don’t deserve someone who’ll burden you instead. I’m gettin’ worse! I feel like I’m leaving bodies behind everywhere I go–” His breath starts to get fast. Immediately, he bounces from his position, hiding his face with his hands.

Leaning towards the distraught man, Kazumi wraps his arm around Keiji’s shoulder. “Keiji, sweetheart, you aren't a bad person–”

“You don’t know that!” He hisses, breath hitching, and pulls away. “You only know so little of me. Maybe ‘m lying to get you. Who knows with cops?! They’re the first to deceive people, I tell ya! And– And I’m one of them.”

Kazumi draws back a bit, rethinking his approach to the agitated man. This is dangerous territory. Any move could lead to stalemate if he doesn’t pay enough attention to the matter at hand. Rocking his troubles away won’t lead to anything good. Maybe it’s time for another type of move altogether.

“But isn’t a policeman’s job to protect people?” He inquires, placing small baits for Keiji to catch onto.

“‘S supposed to be! These hands were meant to protect people,” The detective removes one hand from his face, pupils shrinking at the sight of his hand. He is seeing something undetected with other eyes. “That’s what I used to believe. He made me think that–” He pauses as he lifts his head up suddenly, his eyes locked on something that the professor can’t see.

Kazumi gazes in the same direction.

“He made me think that the world’s so full of kind people. Just need to look hard to find them. He used to make me–” Whatever mirage Keiji is seeing in the distance; it sends him into a state of panic in a matter of seconds.

With that, Kazumi acts immediately. “Keiji–! You’re hyperventilating right now. Please calm down!”

“I–I–...” Keiji grips into his vest, concealing his expression from him. “Was thinking of leavin’ him behind.”

Leaving him behind. He surely doesn’t mean…

“That’s…” He leaves the rest unsaid, hoping that his instincts are wrong for once.

“Yeah,” Keiji gulps, fist clenching harder. “For a split second, I thought it’d be easier if we just had…less mouths to feed.”

That isn’t a side Keiji usually showed to anybody, let alone Kazumi. He should act carefully, treating this matter as he hands oil paintings, afraid that he might smudge them with his calloused hands.

“These are just thoughts you didn’t act on, dear. They aren’t known for their kindness,” He rubs the distressed man’s back constantly, slowing his breathing for Keiji to match. “I’m guilty of thinking absurd ideas the first time I collided with everyone as well.”

Kazumi still remembers the days in which he contemplated a plan for his and Miss Nao’s escape, disregarding the others for their sake only. Until this moment, the professor bathes in shame for dwelling over matters such as these, caring less about lives other than his. He isn’t what he used to be; a hoodlum who rebelled against society. He is a teacher who has to be the perfect picture of modesty, yet he failed terribly when faced with troubles.

He finds himself mumbling: “In the end, you saved him. Doesn’t that count as a way of redemption?”

“But he’s a kid, Ka–Mishima! Shouldn’t even thought of that. I was gonna become a killer ag–” He grits his teeth, lowering his head down, guilt awash. Policemen have to defend themselves, don’t they?

“But you didn’t become a killer,” Kazumi puts his other hand over Keiji’s tightened fist. “Gin’s alive, Keiji. And…for the record,” He pulls his palm away, but still creates circles on the detective’s back. “For your own survival, you won’t see past anyone being an obstacle. That continuous reminder which whispers sweet nothings to one’s ears–That feeling of wanting to be alive despite the circumstances that may lead to inevitable death. I truly understand.”

Keiji is taken back by the professor’s sincerity. “...Y-you relate?”

Shoulders sinking, he crooks a smile. It feels out of place with all this pressure in his heart. “I am but a mere human. Being a saint in these harsh conditions is practically impossible. You and I differ not in the face of demise.”

Keiji exhales, drowning deeper in despair. Witnessing a man like the detective, who showed no ounce of care towards life, acts this way is truly a heartbreaking sight to witness firsthand. What can someone do in a situation like this other than offering a hug? It seems implausible but maybe it’s the only option Kazumi could offer right now and it’s all he can do to fight demons that are snarling at both.

“Dear Keiji, please. Can you look at me?” Kazumi gently asks, enclosing him within his embrace. Keiji gazes at his sharp eyes, questions lingering in the air as the sound of breath is the only thing that can be heard. “I have been observing you for quite some time. I recognise an enormous amount of compassion for your companions resting here-inside your heart- and it is so visible beyond what façade you’re masking yourself with.”

Remaining quiet, Keiji wraps his arms around Kazumi’s waist, diving even more towards the warmth he clearly misses. In lieu of words, the professor can feel gratitude through the fabric, vibrating faintly against his body as Keiji nuzzles on his shoulder, resting his cheek on the hollow of Kazumi’s neck. The man’s heartbeat is frantic, but it feels quite nice against Kazumi’s chest– like it belongs there. No, indulging in these thoughts while Keiji is distraught is a new low for Kazumi. He shamefully admits, feeling heat licking his cheeks.

Kazumi continues to say despite the embarrassment he’s feeling right now: “You’re a man whose heart bleeds by the second. Your wound is agape, but no one can see you’re hurting from it until you show a sign. That pain is eating away at your humanity; however, it didn’t remove all of it. The Keiji Shinogi who dashed towards the habitat of traps just to safely escort Gin back to everyone’s arms is a part of you. You’re full of kindness, Keiji. I wouldn’t have lov–” entraps the rest of his sentence, sighing at the end to cover his blunder.

“‘You wouldn’t love a man like me’...Is that what you wanted to say?” It appears he has been caught. How unfortunate.

“You’re putting words in my mouth right now, Mister Shinogi,” Kazumi rebuts, smiling slightly.

“Your heart says otherwise,” Keiji places his hand over his chest, trembling a bit.

“My matters of the heart aren’t what we’re conversing about, you see,” He deflects, warmth residing inside his chest.

Keiji pulls away from the embrace, leaving the professor quite cold: “Maybe we should talk about that, Kazumi. We talked ‘bout me enough already.”

He stares at the detective for a bit, his astonishment palpable.

Kazumi?

Hm…

Kazumi.

How peculiar…

He didn’t think his name could sound that beautiful on someone else’s tongue before this night. The deepness of his sound is as close as a double bass playing irresistible tones, it carries Kazumi into wanting to hear more of its bewitching notes. It’s absurd how he wished that name was rolling against his mouth as they brushed their noses, divulging in more than a simple pleasure. What he wants now is effortless, he needs to be leaning closer and…there! he will have it like he always desired. In hindsight: those thoughts are easier to form than act upon. It’s best to not reckon with them.

Kazumi murmurs: “You understand what I want.”

“I do.”

“Then…?” He shouldn’t be that hopeful about anything. There is a chance that things could progress towards a better future, but this all relies on the man in front of him.

The detective’s visage is sending beams of expectations to Kazumi, creating dreams that could be shattered if reality has chosen to punch him square in the face. The time is ticking, pushing him into motion. It’s a conundrum that he can’t fathom.

“I feel like I’m gamblin’ with the worst hand ever, but…” Keiji cups his cheeks, his fingers spreading around his face. “Ain’t risking your anger again.”

“Aiming for another attempt?” Kazumi teases with a faint smile, leaning towards the touch. “I would advise that you don’t run away this time. I’m not as forgiving as I seem to be.”

Keiji brushes his nose against his, eyes half-lidded. “I’m fueled with regret,” He purrs, again, dragging his fingertips across Kazumi’s jawline till he takes his chin between his index and thumb. “And fueled with somethin’ else, Kazumi. Will you let me?” He presses below the professor’s lower lip, inviting him to accept these little gestures coated with great deal of hesitance.

He’s making it hard for Kazumi to tease him, using his first name with that tone, and cheating his way into having a kiss without backing away. “But of course, Keiji. I’ve been waiting for a long time now,” He intentionally huffs, sending all kinds of signals to the detective whose eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t want to keep me waiting again, hmmm?”

Grinning, the detective finally places his lips where they belong, erupting butterflies in Kazumi’s stomach. It’s truly puerile to even feel such emotions, but it blooms some type of giddiness that he missed in his life; an enthrallment he discarded as he became a teacher. His lips are chapped, understandably. Life on this island isn’t the ideal version someone would imagine as a life isolated from people. The kiss in itself is chaste at first, a little touch before Kazumi moves his lips, following the other’s in excitement. Keiji sighs, positioning his right hand better while the other hooks around Kazumi’s waist. Taking that as a sign, Kazumi slides his palm across Keiji’s scalp, cradling his dyed hair. The other palm rests on his shoulder, holding firmly onto the man.

It’s soft, very tender in its approach, so unlike what Kazumi thought a kiss from Keiji would be like. His hand trembles against his skin, telling him of how terrified the man is. He drags Kazumi so close; he can feel Keiji’s out-of-control heartbeats. More minutes pass before Kazumi breaks the kiss, eyes hazy. Keiji looks dishevelled, locks of hair flying in all directions. It’s quite the cute look. He giggles, shaking the thought away. A giant man like Keiji shouldn’t be like an eager, large puppy. Yet he is exactly like that in Kazumi’s eyes.

“That—that was…” Keiji huffs, clearly in cloud nine. Kazumi doesn’t wait for him to finish sentence, taking the lead for the second round.

Quickly, it turns to a frantic, tangled mess. Fluttering his eyes shut, He doesn’t want to be removed from Keiji’s embrace, and the man complies, tightening his hold on Kazumi as they deepen the kiss, unbothered by the world around them. Not even the breeze can send shivers at the professor’s spine, nor could the sky annoy him with mismatched colours. He’s busy tasting another relish on Keiji’s tongue, a flavour that doesn’t include pain. It’s messy, but it turns a new emotion inside Kazumi. He wants more. More. More. Kazumi snaps his eyes open in bewilderment.

They stop, looking at each other before awkwardly gazing at nature around them.

“That eager, huh~?” Keiji can’t help but tease, earning a look of disapproval from Kazumi.

“Maybe I need to request a muzzle for that mouth after all,” The professor muses, remembering Miss Nao’s discarded, old project.

Keiji chuckles, amused: “Ooh, kinky.”

“That wouldn’t be enough for a true venture in our birth suit, you see.”

The detective belly laughs at Kazumi’s absurd words, leaning his head on the other’s shoulder. The little vibrations sending across the professor’s body causes him to snicker in enjoyment, albeit not as loud as Keiji’s.

“You’re a ball of oddities, Mister Mishima. Kinda like that in a man,” Keiji lightly caresses the professor’s jaw as he plants a peck on the other side.

Kazumi can’t resist a nice comeback, so he returns one on Keiji’s cheek before he hums: “I’m glad we have a mutual understanding of what we like, even if it’s a bit slower to get that for some.”

“Hittin’ me where it hurts, eh?” Keiji kisses the man at the curve of his neck, beneath his chin. It tickles Kazumi a bit now that he notices the little stubble that’s started to grow.

“You need to shave,” Kazumi points out, putting his hand on Keiji’s cheek.

“Really, Kazumi? Right now?” He glances at the professor with a mock disappointment.

“I need a distraction or else my head won’t be out of the gutter.”

“Why let it out from there?”

Kazumi flicks Keiji on the forehead. “Behave.”

“You’re treatin’ me like a dog.”

The professor shakes his head, grinning. “Maybe. But now we have indulged ourselves for a while, I think it’s best we head home. I don’t want to be late in greeting dear Kai.”

He pouts: “Already got bored of me?”

“Perhaps~” Kazumi chortles. “But it’s for Gin, too. We need to see him as soon as the sun rises.”

“Yup, was plannin’ on going and checkin’ on him after we finish with our date,” Keiji runs his hand through his hair, fixing some strays of hair into their rightful place.

“Then, let’s make haste!” He bounces on his feet, energetic as ever. “We shall get there in no time if we walk now!”

“Wait!” Keiji stands up, trying to dust the sand off his clothes.

“No rest for the wicked,” Kazumi walks in a hurry, picking his blazer up and necktie in the way.

“My legs aren’t as tall as yours!”

“You’re creating excuses now, sweetheart.”

“Oh for cryin’ out loud, just gimme a second—”

“No can do!”