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The ren faire was, by all standards, packed. Fukuzawa wasn’t quite sure how to feel beyond some worry in the back of his mind that he might lose track of the agency members he’d brought with him. Although he’d come along as the only one supervising, per say, he trusted the others to not, say, get into a brawl if he left them be, but he’d still like to keep an eye on them. Perhaps it was just safety in numbers, though it’s not like this place had any threats.
Indeed, no, it was just visitors, both clad in stunning costumes and those in more casual outfits. Some of the agency members had dressed up too; Ranpo as a witch with Karl–thanks to Poe, who they had actually come to visit–on his shoulder, giggling whenever people approached thinking the ever so still raccoon was a very accurate plush, or taxidermy, or what have you, only to be proven sorely wrong. It never failed to amuse him, from what Fukuzawa could tell.
His costume was only as impressive as it was because of Poe. He had a white tunic, the lace on the collar hand stitched, and over it was a beige kirtle with gorgeous embroidering. Although just those would have been enough layering for Fukuzawa, Ranpo had wanted more, and so he had a darker brown cape on too. And finally, a witchy bonnet instead of his regular hat.
Yosano was a warlock, butterflies clinging to her shoulders where fur would have sat on most other costumes. Impressive spikes jutted from the grey armour on her upper shoulders, though she’d minded the heat unlike Ranpo, and was wearing a lighter shirt and pants under, though she had spiky armour on her legs as well. Kenji and Kyouka had helped paint highlights. As well as things like bunnies or cows or smiley faces, which destroyed the look somewhat, but Yosano herself wore it as intimidatingly as one could.
Kunikida had initially been rather opposed to the idea of dressing up, but Ranpo and Yosano had convinced him. On the car ride there. Of course they’d already gotten an outfit for him, a shining paladin outfit with a crest reminiscent of his notebook on it. Fukuzawa didn’t really understand how, but they’d made it light enough that it wouldn’t be too hot for him. He seemed to like the outfit, standing proud in it, making a thoroughly scary sight along with Yosano. Fukuzawa could have sworn he’d seen a child take one look at the two and start tearing up.
As the crowd almost jostled them around, Fukuzawa stepped closer to the three, and his hand went to his hip. Even if he didn’t even have Amenogozen–
No, that was not his sword. Even if it was hidden away in his house, under his bed, it did not rest in his sheath. There was no one and nothing here for its blade to drink from, nor would he ever let it sip again. He took a deep breath, letting the ren faire ground him. He smelled sweat, perfume, freshly cooked meals. He heard the sound of joyful laughter, the agency members chatting away to one another, performers putting on a show. He saw the agency members with him, the smiles on people's faces, stalls set up with handmade goods. He felt his hair, longer than it'd ever been—for he could not stomach the risk of cutting it too short and looking into the mirror and seeing someone he thought he knew staring back—weighing down on his shoulders. He felt the absence of his katana at his side and he was nearly overheating from the heat from the sun bearing down on him.
Ranpo tugged at his sleeve, already starting to whine as Fukuzawa looked over, noting how his glasses slipped back into his pocket.
“Yes?”
“The line’s so looong, but we wanna keep looking... can you go get us some food?” Ranpo gave him his best puppy dog eyes, looking up at him. Kunikida sighed, interjecting. Fukuzawa noted how his hands shook as he crossed his arms, remembering how the injuries from the helicopter had sent him right back to square one, how he’d had to go back to physical therapy after years of it as a child. It’d gone until he could read his own handwriting then, and it’d go until he could read his own handwriting now. Until Matchless Poet would work again.
“I tried to say I'd go, but-”
“No no, it's fine.” Fukuzawa nodded a little, “I don't mind. Just stay close together and I'll come right back over after.”
Ranpo grinned, practically hopping up and down, “Yay, thank youu!” Fukuzawa just responded with a nod, and although he was walking towards the food booths, his gaze didn’t really leave the agency. It was hard to wrench his gaze from them after he’d nearly lost them, after all.
“Yukichi?” So, that was probably why he didn’t notice Hirotsu. The familiar voice is enough for Fukuzawa to look away from the three.
“Ryuro.” He greeted softly, fixing him with a small smile. “I didn't know this was where you'd be.” They'd talked that morning about how Hirotsu would also be busy that day, letting the Black Lizard drag him around some event, but Hirotsu hadn’t mentioned the specifics. Not that Fukuzawa minded, really; this was a pleasant surprise, not a bad one. Not like–
No. No, this was a chance to relax and unwind.
“It’s good to see you.” Hirotsu reached out, not taking Fukuzawa’s hand, but putting the option there. Fukuzawa took it, intertwining his fingers, letting Hirotsu’s cool hand rest against his warm palm. It was pleasant in the heat, and he stepped a little closer.
“You too,” he replied quieter.
“How have you been?” Hirotsu squeezed his hand, looking from it up to Fukuzawa’s face. They shuffled forward a little with the line, Fukuzawa silently taking in Hirotsu’s features. He was still as handsome as ever, but it was so hard to ignore the fangs that had grown from his canines during the vampire apocalypse. A little nagging thought came in with a brighter, less bloodsoaked past where Hirotsu had never gotten those pin prick scars in his neck, but Fukuzawa tried to push it aside. No point in stewing in regret right now; he was better off staying in the moment.
It was new that the moment was worth staying in, after all. It’d been stress and more stress for what felt like forever, even if he knew it wasn’t that long, even if it had only been for less then a month. But it’d felt like a lifetime. He still remembered cradling Fukuchi in his arms, watching the blood flow from him, screaming to the high heavens because he knew it’d come to this, but fuck , did it have to be in his arms?
Did he have to leave him like that, leave him with this accursed radio? Leave him to deal with what he left in his wake, leave him with a stray pup from his pack? It wasn’t that he didn’t like Teruko, but she was so loud and she always argued with Kunikida and maybe that was part of why he had so readily agreed to Poe’s offer to get away when Ranpo had come to him with the suggestion. He didn’t want to act as if he was running away from an issue, but he couldn’t keep up with her right now. He felt awful about it, unable to keep his mind off of what could be happening back at the office the entire plane ride; so much so he’d barely slept despite the long flight time.
“I’ve been managing,” Fukuzawa decided on saying, squeezing his hand back, taking a breath. Hirotsu’s hand was cool, not cold. Blood still flowed through it, he was okay. They were okay.
Before Hirotsu could ask anything else, he added after, “What about you? How is the Black Lizard?”
“Ah-” Hirotsu smiled, “They’re good. They’re very excited about this- about as excited as the agency, I imagine?”
“They talked about it half the plane ride.” Fukuzawa nodded, glancing down when he heard a mrrrow from his phone, using his other hand to fetch it from his pocket. Hirotsu watched him open it; Fukuzawa didn't mind if he knew the passcode, they'd long established that.
A particular name in his contacts piqued his curiosity, though.
“Yukichi?”
“Yes?” His finger hovered just over clicking Ranpo’s messages.
“Who's ‘darling’ in your contacts? I didn't know you were actually one for pet names.”
Fukuzawa smiled slightly. “You, of course. I... suppose I'm not, usually, but...” He trailed off, not really knowing what to say.
“That’s sweet of you,” Hirotsu replied, “I feel quite honoured.”
Fukuzawa felt in the back of his mind that had they not been in public, Hirotsu might have granted him a brief kiss. But they were, in the midst of a line, at an event where hundreds of people had flocked to. He’d noticed so many varying states on the license plates back at what was practically a landscape itself of cars. It was surprising, yet reassuring, in a way, that they weren’t the only ones who’d ventured such a long way. He had to remind himself, quietly in his mind, that there were no threats here. No vampires, no soldiers, no secret enemies to attack him or those he cared about.
It was calm–though not quiet–but peaceful, and he had no reason to be worried. He shouldn’t have been. He was supposed to be unshakeable, the collected leader of the agency who was dependable and remained serene no matter the situation. Even if he’d slipped, but who wouldn’t have, watching the first man he’d ever loved die in his arms.
Hirotsu was here, his partner, and it wasn’t fair for him to Fukuzawa to spend the entire time here ruminating on Gen’ichiro. He had to focus on those in front of him, not linger on those an ocean away. The agency would be okay. As he checked the messages from Ranpo, Hirotsu gently made sure they actually moved forward in line.
–
Hirotsu accompanied him to the others, Ranpo perking up and pulling Hirotsu into a hug. Yosano and Kunikida, although they were in the middle of a conversation, both greeted him politely. The three all knew, but they were an exception; the rest of the agency had been kept in the dark for Hirotsu’s safety. Fukuzawa wasn’t sure of how Mori would react if he learned, but he was sure it wouldn’t be positive.
“Here you go.” He held out the food once Ranpo had stepped back from Hirotsu. He took it, handing it to Yosano and Kunikida. Except for one piece, which seemed too savory for Ranpo to enjoy.
“Did you mistype-”
“No, it’s for you!!” Ranpo said firmly, huffing and sticking his tongue out a bit. “You didn’t eat much on the drive down here, sooo...”
“Oh.” Fukuzawa just let Ranpo push it back into his hand. That was true. None of the food stops on the way had really struck his fancy and he already hadn’t felt much hunger as is. The gnawing feeling in his gut hadn’t stopped for a long time now, but he’d pushed it away to focus on the agency. He wasn’t surprised Ranpo had picked up on that.
He nibbled on it, glancing at Hirotsu, who was checking his phone at the moment. He’d said he was just going to have the Black Lizard come over here, but it seemed like they were lost at the moment. Ranpo peered over at the screen and giggled.
“Oh, I know where that is- I can go get them.”
Anxiety gripped Fukuzawa’s chest like a lion biting into a chunk of flesh. He knew Ranpo would be fine on his own, but he still vividly recalled seeing him crumpled and held like some rotten roadkill in Fukuchi’s hand. It kept him up some nights, making him sit up in bed, hand over his heart, having to remind himself over and over where he was, when it was.
“I’ll come with you.” Hirotsu pat Ranpo, ruffling his hair a bit. Karl piped up, chittering, and Hirotsu gave him chin scritches.
“Okay!!” Ranpo grinned, glancing at the other three, “We’ll be back soon- promise!”
“Alright.” Yosano nodded.
Fukuzawa hummed in acknowledgement. “Be safe.”
“We will be!” Ranpo twirled, then strolled off, Hirotsu in tow. Fukuzawa sat next to Kunikida and Yosano, not really listening to their conversation beyond bits and pieces. Vendors they wanted to glance at, speculations of how the other agency members were, idle wondering of how Tanizaki was settling into the Port Mafia.
They’d had to give Mori someone, after all. Tanizaki had volunteered to keep Yosano from going back to being under Mori’s orders. It’d been a tearful, dreaded goodbye, and Fukuzawa did not get as many words out as he would have liked. There was a group hug, a “Farewell, stay safe” , and then a pink motorcycle had revved from outside.
Atsushi mentioned news of him now and then, but it was scarce and often for Lucy’s ears only. Fukuzawa hadn’t meant to eavesdrop that day he’d come down to Uzumaki, but Atsushi didn’t always have an indoor voice. Fukuzawa wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried that Tanizaki sounded like he was settling in.
Teruko had settled into Tanizaki’s old spot like it had been made for her. She acted like it might as well have been. She kicked her feet up on the desk, she spun in the chair, she tapped or occasionally doodled on the table. She’d stopped for the most part when Ranpo had offered her some fidget toys, but they were far from a solution.
It was easy for her to act like there was nothing important about the desk beyond that it was where she worked. Yet, to the rest of the agency, it was like she was sitting where a ghost had lived. Oblivious that she was taking residence in a grave; or perhaps uncaring.
“Fukuzawa?” Yosano tapped his shoulder, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Yes, Akiko?” He looked over.
“You were zoning out again.” She crossed her arms. Kunikida had set his hands in his lap as he nodded.
“Ranpo’s observed that’s been happening a lot.” Kunikida added, “Did you not sleep well last night?”
They’d slept in a hotel before driving to the ren faire, but Fukuzawa didn’t think he’d slept that poorly.
“I did,” Fukuzawa offered, shaking his head. “But this is a new environment for all of us. That’s all.”
The two didn’t look very convinced. Fukuzawa wasn’t surprised. But..
“If something is wrong, or if you’d like to leave early-” Kunikida started, but Fukuzawa cut him off a tad quickly.
“No no, there’s no need for that.”
“I’m sure Hirotsu would understand- have you talked to him about what’s bothering you?” Yosano went straight to the point, eyes narrowing. She’d spent plenty of time with other agency members who would rather walk barefoot through a glass desert than say one word about their feelings.
“If not, you really should. He’s here to support you,” Kunikida said firmly.
“I’ll-”
“I told you I’d get here first!!”
Fukuzawa looked up. Tachihara was standing confidently, grasping a metal cane fashioned such that it looked like it’d been made with the scales of some beast. He had a black capelet on top of a chainmail vest and underneath that was a black tunic. Fukuzawa wondered how he hadn’t roasted by now.
Gin walked up next, whispering something to Tachihara. She matched besides the chainmail, and she had two daggers slung into sheaths at her hips and gloves which looked like they were made of the same scales as Tachihara’s cane. She looked over at the agency members, waving. Fukuzawa gave a brief wave back.
“I like your outfits.” Yosano stood up, looking behind them and snorting. “Really, Ranpo?”
“She said yes!!” Ranpo blepped, currently sitting on Higuchi’s shoulders. The poor blonde was panting a little, clearly not faring as well with the weather as the other two. Her outfit only differed in that she had a crossbow. The tails of her arrows were accented with scales. Yosano held out a water bottle, Higuchi smiling and quickly thanking her as Hirotsu came back over.
Fukuzawa went to his side, gently clasping his hand as the Black Lizard and agency members talked as freely as if they were just civilians. It was relieving to see no grudges were present, just bonding over the fact that they were both here. For right now, here, they could act as a family.
Fukuzawa leaned against Hirotsu, head resting against his shoulder. He let his eyes close for only a moment, opening them again when he felt Hirotsu’s arms wrap around him, pulling him to Hirotsu’s chest. Hirotsu leaned in, beautiful violet eyes meeting Fukuzawa’s own metallic blue ones. They mutually ignored a snicker from Ranpo.
“Still holding up alright?” Hirotsu asked softly, one hand moving up to run through Fukuzawa’s hair, carding through his locks. It was a calming motion for both of them even if Fukuzawa had the longer hair out of the two.
Fukuzawa’s automatic response was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew he shouldn’t let it slip out.
“I was wondering if we could talk once we’re out of here and in the parking lot,” He wrapped his arms around Hirotsu, a silent, “you haven’t done anything, this isn’t you.”
Hirotsu hummed, “Of course, Yukichi.”
Fukuzawa smiled softly, letting himself relax there, listening to Hirotsu’s steady, constant heartbeat. He let it cover over the other sounds; of the crowd, of the agency, of the Black Lizard. It was like a symphony just for him.
-
The trek to the car felt like walking through a mechanical graveyard. Cars were laid out in neat-ish rows that felt like they stretched on forever, even if Fukuzawa could see the trees in the distance, and the road just behind them. Hirotsu was walking by his side. The others were behind them, Ranpo now making Tachihara carry him. Yosano was talking to Gin as Higuchi was picked up like a bride in Gin’s arms, and Kunikida was berating Ranpo for not wanting to walk. Ranpo was being dramatic in response, dramatically flopping over, messing with Tachihara’s hair. Tachihara in response huffed and pushed him back up as Kunikida sighed.
“Oh, is that your car?” Ranpo sat up, pointing at a shiny black one.
Tachihara paused as Ranpo giggled. “How the fuck- yeah, it is.”
“Knew it!! Lettt’s go over there first, you’re overheating, yeah?” Ranpo cast a glance at Fukuzawa and winked. “And go turn on our car, pleaase?”
Fukuzawa bit back a chuckle, nodding. He didn’t have to say anything, Hirotsu matching his pace as they went to the silver car Fukuzawa had rented. Hirotsu opened the door for him before going around and taking his own seat next to him, leaning across and clasping Fukuzawa’s hands, pulling him close for a moment–Fukuzawa leaning in, doing the same–and only looking into those beautiful eyes of his for a second before he brought his lips to Fukuzawa’s.
It was a slow, sweet kiss, tasting of comfort and smoke. Fukuzawa didn’t want to break away, but he knew he had to. When he did, Hirotsu still held his hands, smiling gently at him, speaking before a silence could settle over them.
“Whatever you need to talk about, I’m here to listen.”