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Kunigami shifts the car into gear as the engine sputters under them. Chigiri’s seat is vibrating and cold and worst of all, it’s four in the fucking morning.
They hit a bump in the road and his forehead bangs against the window. He glares at Kungami’s stupid orange hair like he’s trying to singe it off and is met with a look that’s anything but sincere.
“I hate you,” Chigiri says for the fifth time that morning and Kunigami laughs, a full-bellied sound that reverberates in the tiny chamber of his Jeep.
“Sure you do,” he replies easily and runs the car over a pothole so Chigiri hits his head again.
“Do you know what time it is?” Chigiri asks when they finally reach the trail.
His footsteps are light but he’s slipping on the leaves. It rained last night and the running shoes Chigiri typically wears weren’t exactly designed with hiking in mind. Not that Kunigami bothered to tell him this, of course.
Kunigami tilts the watch on his wrist.
“5:02,” he replies cheerfully, blatantly ignoring the way Chigiri’s trying to bore a hole in his skull with his glares. Really, he’s basically developed an immunity at this point.
“ Five ,” Chigiri hisses. “Do you see how many other people are here at five in the fucking morning to walk around? None! Because they’re all sane people!”
“Hey, there’s an old couple over there,” Kunigami says, pointing to two figures down by the pier. “That could be us in uh, 50 years.”
“It won’t be,” Chigiri snaps back. “Because if you ever drag me on a hike at 5 am when we’re 80, I’ll end you myself.”
“You want some water?” Kunigami asks about a half-hour in. They’re standing at some sort of makeshift checkpoint with stone pillars.
“Yes,” Chigiri says, sticking one hand out without looking up. He’s more focused on trying not to hyperventilate or keel over and die . He still has important things to do, after all, like roast the life out of Reo and Nagi–well, mostly Reo–at their wedding.
Unfortunately, the water bottle never comes and Chigiri eventually gathers enough strength to lift his head. Kunigami is staring down at him with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You didn’t say the magic word,” he says, reminding Chigiri again of the fact that he is dating someone with the maturity of a five-year-old. What teenage hormones do to you.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Chigiri replies and he means it with every fiber of his body.
Kunigami laughs but still hands him the bottle.
“Bug spray?” Kunigami asks him when they take another break for water. It’s a little pointless since Chigiri’s been bitten at least five times already but he fishes it out of his backpack regardless.
“Yes,” Chigiri says and grabs the bottle before it’s even halfway out of his bag. He must really be eager–the mosquitoes have been relentlessly attacking him and Kunigami can’t even find it in himself to blame them.
Kunigami’s studying the map when he’s suddenly met with a mouthful of acid. He glances up to see a nozzle pointed at his face.
“You’re spraying me,” he says and Chigiri stares him dead in the eye.
“I know,” he says and presses the trigger again.
Oh. Oh.
“That’s definitely not safe,” Chigiri says, eyeing the makeshift bridge in front of them. Sure, it only goes over a little stream that he could probably wade through if he wanted but that water looks cold as fuck and he is not dealing with soggy socks for another god-knows-how-many hours. If it really comes down to it, he’ll make Kunigami trade socks with him but still–it’s about the principle.
“It’s safe,” Kunigami replies, stepping straight onto the plank. It creaks a little ominously beneath his boots but it doesn’t snap, even when he jumps on it a couple times. “Safe enough,” he amends. It looks like a grade-schooler’s attempt at a civil engineering project in Chigiri’s mind.
“It’ll be fine,” Kunigami continues, already reaching for his wrist. Chigiri snaps it back just in time.
“I think I’ll just find another route, or better yet, go home–wait, what are you doing, RENSUKE DON’T YOU DARE–”
Kunigami’s never actually walked this path before. He’s more familiar with the trails back home but they’re 100 miles away from their place and Chigiri might’ve actually killed him if he lugged him on a 3-hour train ride to go for a walk at 5 am.
He stops at a fork in the road and stares for a moment. He’s honestly not sure if this is a fork at all–there is definitely… ground in front of them but he’s not certain if either side constitutes a path. The markers on the trees also disappeared a while ago.
“Please don’t tell me that we’re fucking lost ,” Chigiri says when he finally catches up. His cheeks are flushed red and the hair he spends hours keeping immaculate is matted to his forehead in a sweaty mess. Kunigami would tell him this if he didn’t value his life.
“We’re fine,” Kunigami replies easily and picks the path that looks a little more worn-out. “I think.”
Kunigami’s waiting for him at the top of the stairs. He’s staring down at him and he might be smirking but it also might just be a trick of the light.
No, he’s probably just being a bastard. It’s in his old team’s fucking name, after all.
“I would like you to know,” Chigiri huffs as he pulls himself up another step. “That I was built for speed , not stamina.”
“Don’t worry,” Kunigami says and this time he’s definitely smiling evilly. “We’re almost halfway there!”
“I hate you.”
They reach the summit sometime around ten–which is about when Chigiri’s legs are ready to give out from under him. He drags himself up to the final step like it’s an oasis in a desert.
The top of the mountain is a clearing that overlooks the land in front of them. Chigiri stumbles a few more steps forward and he’d like to say that this is the epic-movie moment–the one where the camera pans out an impossible distance and the characters all laugh and say that the trip was worth it. Unfortunately, life isn’t a movie–unless you know, you’re a part of Ego Jinpachi’s manic high-school-soccer program and end up in a Limited Edition Blue Lock Special.
It’s a pretty sight, definitely, but 5-hours-of-tripping-sliding-walking-and-dealing-with-an-insufferable-Kunigami-worth? Eh, debatable.
Still, he steals a little closer to the edge because if he sacrificed a good night’s sleep, his sanity and his poor fucking legs for this, so he might as well savor the moment. There’s a river down below, a couple of boats bobbing on the surface. The light reflecting on the water is nearly blinding and he has to squint to make out the land behind it–the trees scattered on the mountain opposite them. It’s beautiful and it stretches as far as the eye can see.
“Hey, maybe you were ri–”
“Hyoma,” Kunigami cuts in and it’s the solemnity in his voice that halts Chigiri in his tracks. The last time Kunigami sounded this serious was… Bastard Munchen in his emo arc, maybe?
He’s kneeling on the ground, a velvet box between his hands. His brow is furrowed and sure, maybe Chigiri hasn’t won awards for his intellect but it doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. The pose, the ring–Reo definitely had a hand in that because when has Kunigami ever had good taste–the way he’s staring up at him with his wide, puppy-like eyes.
“Stay?” Kunigami asks, even though there’s no need to phrase it like a question. His hiking pants are getting absolutely drenched in mud and he looks almost bashful, scared even.
There’s really no need for him to be that pale. Kunigami’s always had him, body and soul, ever since they made that promise in the fluorescent-lit locker room of Team Z.
“Okay, hero,” Chigiri says with a laugh. He squeezes the ring between his fingers and leans in to kiss him. “I guess I’ll stick around for the epilogue.”