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Chapter Text

The drizzling, charcoal sky didn't match the mens' moods at all. The faint pitter patter and the frequent thunder in the distance didn't dampen their spirits. In fact, they felt the exact opposite.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru lent slightly off the side of the massive boat, Shine On, ready to offload its passengers at any second. The huge boat, a shade of brilliant navy blue, had just docked into the city of San Francisco, and he could see and hear the cheering people on solid ground, waiting for their loved ones to return to them. The ship's horn blew suddenly, and with a smile, he realized that they would be offloading. Shouts of "Good luck, soldier!" and "We did it!" echoed throughout the deck, as he grabbed his suitcase and stepped into the growing line of soldiers, already unlading.

Once more, he looked over the side, watching as a soldier ran towards a lady holding a pale pink umbrella. The soldier's cap flew off, revealing bright red hair, as he spun around the girl, who had dropped her umbrella in the process. Her long, dark blue hair was already soaked from the rainfall, but she didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Ishimaru stopped himself from shouting, "Public displays of affection are not condone!" to the couple at the last moment, and instead turned his head away in privacy as the two shared an overdue kiss.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up behind him. "When's the last time you saw her?" Ishimaru looked behind him and found himself facing one of his comrades, a man by the name of Makoto Naegi. He was a fellow who was almost a head shorter than himself, but what he lacked in height he made up for in brains. While his washed out hazel eyes weren't common, the aspect that made him unique was his hair, which included a certain piece that always stuck out from the rest, no matter how hard he tried to comb it down.

Straightening up, Ishimaru belted out his answer, so that he could be heard above the roar of commotion, coming from both the boat and below it. "Our wedding day! Four years ago!" He answered.
A knowing smile appeared on Naegi's face. "Let me guess." He paused for a moment as they began descending the steps from the humungous ship, then continued, "Met her on Friday, married her on Sunday, then shipped out on Monday?"

Ishimaru nodded and rearranged his hat upon his head. "That's about right."

His companion laughed lightly, and nodded as well. "Me too! I bet we don't even recognize them," he added, in a slightly somber tone.

"I would recognize her anywhere," Ishimaru replied, getting a better hold on his luggage. A picture of his wife popped into his brain, and he smiled to himself. Her dainty, almost doll-like face, her jet-black hair, her scarlet eyes-

A roar of thunder brought him back to reality, and with a start, realized that he was now on solid ground. He must've obliviously reached his destination while thinking of her. Once again he straightened his posture, trying to look above the crowd of people for her.

Naegi slipped passed him and with an almost shy wave, walked over to a woman with long lavender hair, holding a black umbrella with gloved hands. Her calm complexion never changed as Naegi made his way to her side, dropped his suitcase and held her left hand in between his own. They exchanged words which Ishimaru couldn't interpret, and after taking back his luggage, they hooked arms, and vacated, with the lady's umbrella covering them both. Before they disappeared from view, Naegi turned around to the stiff soldier and waved, with an exultant expression upon his face. With that, the couple continued walking into the foggy distance.

Ishimaru smiled to himself, and craned his neck, in hopes of catching a glimpse of his own sweetheart. He could already feel parts of his white uniform uncomfortably sticking to his shoulders because of the heavy downfall of rain and rearranged his cap upon his head in nervousness. What if she didn't recognize him? It had been over four years since they had last seen each other. He shook his head once, as if to omit the preposterous thought.

Sooner or later, each of the couples and families around him gathered their belongings and began walking to parked cars or passing cabs, while Ishimaru continued searching in bewilderment and desperation. Hadn't he told her in his letters that he would be arriving today? Suddenly realizing that he was the only person left in the station, Ishimaru sighed softly. How he wished he had brought an umbrella with him.

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"Thank you very much, sir!" Ishimaru announced as the mustard yellow cab came to a complete stop, watching the mini crystal ball, which hung from the rear view mirror, swing softly. Wanting to get out of the car (which had a pungent smell of alcohol and cheeseburgers) as soon as possible, he handed the afro-sporting cabbie the correct amount of payment, picked up his suitcase, and opened the car door.
"Hey, no worries, man!" the driver turned around in his seat, and Ishimaru realized that the cabbie's hairstyle was even more extravagant from the front. His thin, expresso colored eyes were wide in cheeriness, and had a slight amount of facial hair. Grabbing the cash out of Ishimaru's hand, he continued, "Anything for a soldier!"

Nodding quickly, Ishimaru fully exited the car, and shut the door. The rain had stopped for the moment, but the San Francisco sky was still a dull, smoky color. As the car behind him sped off, he gazed up at the building he had been dropped off at. It was two stories tall, and was a light blue color that bordered a soft gray. Beautiful arches decorated the premises, along with tiny, intricate designs carved into the sides and anterior. Lavish windows dotted the front, most of which were covered with curtains to block out the dark sky. It was just as Ishimaru had remembered it four years ago when they had picked it out.

A determined, bright expression appeared on the soldier's face and he confidently stepped through the apartment's door, and bounded up the stairs two at a time. His hands fished around in the pockets of his white uniform for his keys, as his feet took him straight to the door he was looking for - Room 204. Finally finding his keys, he swiftly pulled them from his pocket, and went to unlock the door.

Suddenly a sense of nervousness washed over him, and his hand froze in midair. What if she had moved while he was away? Had she forgotten about him? Did she still have feelings for him? Questions bombarded him, and to calm himself, he glanced down at his wristwatch, which was fastened around his left hand. Using his right hand, he carefully pressed a tiny button on the side, which succeeded in opening the watch, to reveal a tiny photograph, secured in a locket.

Inky hair framed breathtaking ruby eyes which stared into his own. The woman's mouth was curved into a seductive smile, and was partly hid by her slim, pale fingers.

"Celes…" he whispered breathlessly.

After a couple seconds more of taking in the beautiful sight, he snapped the watch shut, and before he could stop himself, he thrust his keys into the lock and turned. A soft click was heard, and he opened the door without a word, looking around the room which hadn't much changed. The picture frames that had been hastily hung up upon the tan wall were still hanging, and the leather couch down the hall was still in the exact position that Ishimaru had pushed it in so long ago. Closing the door soundlessly, he wandered into the dining room to the left, and discovered that the elegant cherry table was still there as well, and that someone was sitting at it, with their back turned to him. They were clad in a simple white blouse, and a black skirt, which was lined with delicate white lace, while their raven hair was pinned in the back of their head. A fan of deck cards was spread in front of them, and the person seemed to be humming to themselves while leisurely tapping their fingers upon the wood.

"Celes?" he asked aloud after a moment, breaking the noise.

The woman's head whipped around so rapidly that she accidentally knocked half of the card deck onto to the floor. A few pieces of hair framed her pale, dainty face, and her red eyes were wide in surprise. Her mouth fell slightly open the second she discovered Ishimaru standing in the doorway. "Taka…?" she wondered aloud in amazement, and slowly set down her cards. Hurriedly, she rose to her feet, smiled euphorically, and abruptly began running towards him. "Taka!"

Ishimaru barely had time to set down his suitcase and take off his cap before he found himself embracing Celes, who wrapped her thin arms around his neck and laughed joyously. He smiled widely as his arms securely encircled her waist while she buried her head into his neck, pressing rushed, firm kisses there. Ishimaru pulled back a tad, so that he could press chaste kisses to her thin lips. After a couple of moments, they pulled back and held each other tightly in their arms.

Getting his breath back, Ishimaru voiced his confusion. "When I didn't see you on the dock-"

"I didn't know you were coming today!" she responded while running her fingers through his short locks.

"Did you not receive my letters?" he asked after a moment in bewilderment.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, then pulled back while sliding her hands to rest upon his shoulders. "Oh Ishi, I tried to read them, I did…" she paused, then continued, "but after the first few I couldn't bear to hear about all that fighting, and the killing-"

"I wrote to you almost daily," Ishimaru interrupted her, his brows furrowing in incredulity as he tilted his head.

Her signature, calm smile appeared on her face. "I know. And I kept all of them." She tugged on his hand and led him through the small apartment into their living room to a medium sized chest, opening it quickly. "Look!"

Countless, unopened letters met his eyes, all stacked together in separate packages. Daintily, Celes held up a bundle for Ishimaru's inspection.
"See?"

Speechless, Ishimaru glanced down at the letters, then up to Celes. Then back to the letters.

"Oh, Ishimaru," she spoke softly, "even the thought of you in all that danger…" she shook her head as if to clear it, and placed a hand upon her chest. "It was just too much. I knew that if I got them, you were still alive." She paused, smiling sweetly as she gently placed the pile of letters back into the chest and closed it. "That's all I cared about…that you were alive…safe. That's all that was important to me." Standing to her full height, she draped her slim arms around his shoulders. "Can you forgive me?"

Thinking it over, Ishimaru nodded once. "Of course."

A playful smile appeared on her lips. "I wrote to you. You got those, yes?"

"I received a few while I was away," he acknowledged truthfully.

Her lighthearted expression turned a one eighty as her eyes thinned and lips grew taunt. "I told you I wasn't a big writer." An awkward silence befell them both.

Changing the subject, Celes walked gracefully to the kitchen table. "I've been learning how to perfect my poker techniques, although there isn't much room for improvement." She simpered, looking pleased with herself as she began to gather the fallen deck cards. Ishimaru immediately joined to help her.

Collecting all of them, she pocketed the cards and went to sit upon the couch. "That reminds me, you've been away; out of touch. The word is that there's a new serial killer on the streets, a 'Genocider Syo.' Pretty exciting, am I correct?" Ishimaru opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off. "Oh, and I went to make sure Mr. Togami held your job like he promised. He said you could start the day you got back." Ishimaru joined her on the couch, making sure to sit up straight. "Just make sure to wear your uniform. Who can resist a war hero?" she smirked at him, slyly. "Of course, I um…negotiated a raise," she added, bringing a lean shoulder forward in a suggestive manner.

"Celes, I…" Ishimaru finally spoke. "I don't fancy going back to…selling chocolate," he protested, inwardly cringing.

Her eyes grew wide and she turned to face him head on. "You've got something better."

"I'm…confident I do. However, in the war, I had time to think about what was important, about what I want out of life, for me, for us." His hand found its way to Celes' hand, which sat upon a cushion. "I wrote you about this in the letters."

Her hand was torn from underneath his and she hastily stood up and paced around the room. "Are we back to those old letters again?" Her voice rose an octave, and now had a dangerous edge to it. She threw her hands up in expiration. "You want me to read the letters?"

He stood up as well and held out his hands in a pacifying manner. "No! It's only that you'd understand what I'm feeling…what I desire," he answered in a soft tone, to calm her down.

Apparently it worked, for her eyes softened and she stopped pacing. "Sweetie…" she crooned and made her way towards him. She lightly laid her hands upon his shoulders, before they slid down to his collar, and unfastened the top button. "Tell me what you want."

Her seductive eyes met his and Ishimaru was instantly dumbstruck. "I thought…some time-"

"Time's money." Celes answered for him quickly, and pulled off his coat, a bit too harshly. She began unbuttoning his collared shirt underneath and tugged that off too as Ishimaru's hands skimmed down her back, still mute. "I want things, Taka. My whole life I've been without…" Laughing in the back of her throat, her soft hands curled around the back of his neck, drawing him closer. "I want things. Do you want…things?" she ended eagerly as her lips met his.

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"And you'll wear your uniform, won't you?" Celes asked breathlessly.

"My uniform?" Ishimaru mumbled against her pale neck, as he placed multiple fervent kisses there. His hands were wrapped around her waist, while her lacy blouse lightly tickled his stomach.

"To sell chocolates…" she reminded him as she ran a hand through his short, spiky hair. "Millions and millions of them. Won't you?" She tugged his head back to stare up at him into his scarlet eyes.

Not really knowing what else to say, he responded, "Yes."

Chapter Text

The sky of San Francisco was a much brighter one the next morning. Glorious sunlight peeked out through fluffy clouds, and had begun streaming through a window, which casted beautiful, golden highlights in the bedroom. Ishimaru looked once more in the vanity's mirror, straightening his cap that it was just so. He glanced back to the sleeping Celes upon the mattress and smiled softly. Crossing the room in just a few steps, he placed a lingering kiss upon her forehead, being careful not to awake her. Pulling back, he grabbed his suitcase, his train ticket, and his box of assorted chocolates (Celes had recently brought one home so that he could enjoy a few sweets on the train), as he headed towards the door. Reaching the doorway he paused, and grabbed a nearby umbrella before stepping through. He didn't want the rain to soak through his uniform for a second time.

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The soldier briskly walked down the street, breathing in the crisp, morning air. It was barely seven in the morning, but it didn't faze Ishimaru in the slightest. It was currently the middle of July, so he was glad to be out and about before the warm Californian weather set in for the day. A car passed on his left and a corner of his mouth rose in thought and irritation, as he wished he owned one of his own. He made a mental note to ask Celes why she hadn't bought one yet, and continued walking down the still-slightly damp sidewalk.

A couple crossed the street and leisurely strolled towards him. They couldn't have been over twenty three, like Ishimaru himself, though one of the characters made him think twice about that. The man had dusty blonde hair that was partly hid under a black hat, and probably was around five feet in height. His dark, pinstriped suit stood out in the bland, moderately foggy street. The woman beside him wore thin, rectangular glasses, had silvery hair which was styled into two braids, and towered over the man by a good half foot. Ishimaru couldn't help but notice that she carried something long and slender over her shoulder, and called to them in greeting when passing.

"Good morning!"

The man and woman turned to him, the former greeting, "Mornin'," as the latter nodded in response, her expression serene. They continued walking in the way Ishimaru was coming from.

The sky was still a bit misty when Ishimaru soon found himself at the empty, lengthy train track. He was over twenty minutes early, and sat upright upon a nearby bench. Setting his things aside, he reached into his suitcase and pulled out one his many books he had brought and smiled to himself when he saw the title. Animal Farm. Ah, one of his favorites.

He had barely finished the first chapter when more and more people began arriving, and it wasn't soon after that, that the train itself was heard. Ishimaru tore his eyes from the pages and glanced towards the sound. The sleek, gunmetal train soon materialized, and pulled into the station with a loud and drawn-out hiss. Finally coming to a stop, the door before him slid open and people began piling inside. Closing the book, he swiftly took up his things, and stepped inside, looking around the car for any open seats. To his dismay, he discovered that there weren't many seats open, and the number of seats available was quickly diminishing. Thankfully, he spotted an unoccupied chair towards the back of the car and squeezed through the tight aisle, sitting upon the seat with a sigh of relief. Storing his suitcase and chocolates underneath him, he took out his ticket in his coat pocket, waiting for the conductor to come by and collect it.

Ishimaru was suddenly struck with a feeling of uneasiness, as one would get when realizing they had forgotten something. He checked his uniform pockets, relaxing a little when he felt his phone and wallet, but the sense of worry didn't fully escape his mind. Leaning a bit to his right, he scanned the aisle which he had come from, and gasped quietly.

His Animal Farm book laid in the middle of the row, facing downwards.

 Normally, in a situation like this, he would consider jumping out of his seat and running to retrieve the novel, but he pushed back the thought and ticket still in hand, walked very briskly down the lane. He had to keep the image of a model citizen, after all.

Reaching the book, he stooped down to pick it up, and absentmindedly brushed off the smidge of dust on the cover while he strode back to his seat. Suddenly the train lurched with a start, which threw him off balance. While trying to keep his footing, his boot caught on something to his left, and with a smack!, landed right on his face.

"Hey, watch where you're fuckin' goin'."

A deep and evidently pissed off voice was heard from his left, and Ishimaru could feel his face redden and miniscule tears gather in his eyes; not from the pain, but from the embarrassment. He picked up his cap, but before rolling to his side and picking himself off the ground, he announced, "While I do apologize, I feel the need to inform you that it is indecent to use that sort of language in public; not now, nor ever." He turned around, his eyes landing upon the person, and was instantly taken aback.

The man before him had to have had the most ridiculous looking hair he had ever seen in his life. His light, reddish brown hair, which was styled in a pompadour, was so long it was completely absurd and comical. He wore a white undershirt and baggy black pants, which were partly covered by a long, black, impressive overcoat.

However, the strangest thing about the man was the fact that he was holding a motorcycle. Well, not actually holding it, but guiding it. It looked as if he was in the middle of placing it out of the aisle when Ishimaru had come through.

The man's eyes hardened at Ishimaru's response and his voice had a dangerous edge to it. "I don't give a shit what you think. I'll talk how I fuckin' wanna."

The two sized each other up for a couple of seconds. The people inside the car had also fallen silent, taking in the quarrel which was currently taking place. Ishimaru waited for a couple of seconds before saying anything.

"Why are you in possession-"

"Why are you wearing-"

The two men spoke at the same time, and paused. The man stayed silent, and Ishimaru proceeded with his question. "As I was saying, why are you in possession of a motorcycle, while you're on a train?"

"That's none of your goddamn business," he answered, his eyes narrowing more. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the car door opened suddenly and the conductor stepped through.

The person looked more like a martial artist or a body builder instead of a conductor, for he had a very tall and muscular build. He had reddened-dark skin, long white hair, and when he turned to face the two men, Ishimaru noticed that a long scar ran across his face. Apparently he had either seen or heard the two mens' argument, and made his way towards them. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" he asked in a deep voice.

Not wanting to make any more of a scene than they already had, Ishimaru shook his head swiftly. "No, there's no problem here, sir."

"I'm a woman."

Ishimaru stilled in shock and could practically feel the sweat running down his face at the words. The already quiet room seemed to grow even quieter, and from the corners of his eyes he saw people's eyes widen as they threw him apologetic glances. Even the man in front of him seemed sorry for him.

"Wh-!? You are!? Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Ishimaru apologized after a moment, not really knowing what else to do. Thank God she didn't press the matter, and instead opted for holding her hand out. "Got your ticket?"

Quick to please her, he nodded and checked his coat and pant pockets, laughing awkwardly when he could not place it. A cough in front of him broke him out of his fretful state. "Oi, it's on the ground behind ya, Pal. You can get mine too while you're at it," the pompadour-sporting man said in a dry manner, still holding his motorcycle. Glancing behind him, Ishimaru sure enough did see the two tickets, lying in the aisle. He must've accidentally dropped his ticket during his fall, and probably knocked the other out of the man's pocket in the course of his little mishap. Reaching down, he retrieved both of them and handed one to the man, and one to the woman, not bothering to check the times on the slips of paper.

Punching a hole in the ticket, she handed it back to him. "You may return to your seat," she responded, and that's exactly what Ishimaru did. He couldn’t help but notice the glare the man had levelled upon him as he sat down in his chair, however. Taking a deep sigh, he lightly shook his head, as if to rid his thoughts of the motorcycle-toting man and opened his book. After a little while, his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a sound sleep.

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Like before, the train lurched unexpectedly, knocking Ishimaru awake with a gasp. He brought a hand up to rub at his face, in hopes of ridding any traces of sleep in his eyes and glanced down at his wristwatch to find out what the time was. It read 9:49, which indicated that he had been sleeping for over two hours. Absentmindedly, he leaned down the aisle to see if the motorcycle man was still sitting a couple rows to the front of him.

He breathed a sigh of relief to see that the man was not around, and in his place were a couple. The shorter one, who had multicolored hair, was violently headbanging while the other, a…round platinum blonde, sat quietly, nodding softly. Although he couldn't quite see, Ishimaru guessed that they were probably listening to music through earphones. He thought about reminding the former that headbanging could do serious damage to their neck, but decided against it, as he was still half asleep.

Opening his book once more, he indulged himself in his reading for a good ten minutes until the train stopped. People around him began gathering their things, and as soon as the train came to a complete halt, they began piling out. Almost instantly, the conductor came by to collect tickets, but it was a different conductor than the last one.

"Ticket, please!" she exclaimed cheerfully. She held a tanned arm out and smiled brightly.

"Of course, ma'am!" Ishimaru replied as he handed her his ticket. She swept her chestnut ponytail in front of her shoulder as she went to punch a hole through it. Suddenly her large, cerulean eyes widened.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, but…" she paused, and then continued. "Your ticket is…no longer valid."

"No longer valid?" Ishimaru questioned his confusion.

"Yeah, your ticket says that this is your destination. At Cordelia Station," she explained patiently, as she softly handed back his ticket. "I'm terribly sorry to say this, but you need to get off the train."

Ishimaru nodded as he gathered up his belongings. The conductor offered one more sorry smile, and proceeded down the train.

Still in a muddled daze, Ishimaru stepped out of the train, breathing in the fresh, Californian air. Where was he exactly? The conductor had mentioned Cordelia…but where in the world was Cordelia? At that point, all he knew was that he needed to get to Sacramento.

A lady with long, thick strawberry blonde pigtails sashayed past him, and Ishimaru stepped forward. "Ah, Miss? Might I ask you a question?" he said in a loud voice, to be heard over the crowd in the station.

The woman slowly came to a stop, and turned her head in Ishimaru's direction, her sapphire eyes wide, and a smirk playing upon her lips. "Sure thing," she answered.

"Is there, by any chance, a bus station in this town?" he asked.

"Yeah! There's one just a few blocks away," she answered. Suddenly, her whole demeanor changed so drastically that Ishimaru almost did a double take. Her wide eyes now drooped, and her body slumped. "But, it normally leaves about 10:05, and its already despairingly past ten," she spoke slowly, her words dragged out. "There's no way you'll make it in time," she continued, but Ishimaru was already walking speedily out of the train station.

"Thank you!" he called over his shoulder. He needed to get on that bus, not only so that he could make it to Sacramento, but to get away from these bipolar people.

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The bus was just leaving the station when Ishimaru first spotted it. Realizing that he wouldn't make it by just walking swiftly, he began to jog, not listening to the little voice in his head telling him not to. The train began to pick up speed, and he broke out into a run, even calling out a, "Please stop!"

The bus driver must've noticed him, for the bus slowed down and pulled to the side of the road. Once it stopped, the doors opened, and Ishimaru stepped inside.

"With the speed you were going, you could've made it to Sacramento before me!" the bus driver called out. Shoulder-length white hair bobbed slightly as he cocked his head. A look of amazement shown bright in his gray eyes, and he offered Ishimaru a slightly creepy grin. Ishimaru nodded, placed the right amount of change into the basket near the door, and began to look for a seat in the already-crowded bus.

A man and a woman sat directly behind the driver. The woman had short, light pink hair, which was slightly curled at the ends, and wore a dark green hoodie over a buttoned white shirt, with a brown skirt. Her rosy eyes were fixed upon a game console in her hands.

The man beside her was currently looking out the window, while his light brown hair cast a shadow upon the side of his face. His left arm was holding a cup containing an orange liquid (orange juice?) and his right was positioned around the woman's waist. Ishimaru was about to comment on their public displays of affection, when a voice was heard a little further down the bus.

"I don't fuckin' believe it."

Ishimaru knew that voice. His head snapped towards the direction of the voice, and took a sharp intake of breath when he saw who it was. "You!"

The pompadour man from the train was lounging in a seat, his expression one of disbelief and annoyance. Like before, his motorcycle was propped up beside him. He suddenly looked towards the ceiling of the bus and threw a hand out. "How much worse can my day get?"

"I should be the one saying that!" Ishimaru shot back, as he made his way down the bus. "And what did I say before about inappropriate language in public? It is completely disrespectful to those around you!"

"Who the hell do you think you are? My goddamn mom?" The man was yelling now, and had stood up.

"I am just an ordinary citizen who doesn't take pleasure in listening to the type of slang that just came from you!" Ishimaru was yelling right back at him, and stomped until he reached him. "And in addition, why is a motorcycle accompanying you everywhere you go? It is taking up valuable seating space!"

Quick as lightning, the man's arms shot out and grabbed Ishimaru's collar, and lifted him off the ground. The soldier's eyes widened, and his belongings were dropped in favor of him grasping at the man's arms. "Unhand me, you hooligan!" he yelled.

"Jesus Christ, you're worried about seating space? There's a grand motherfucking total of five goddamn people on this bus, and you're worried about seating space?" He yelled back into his face, his teeth bared.

"Yes! When people first invented chairs, I can assure you that they were not intended for motorcycles!" Ishimaru shouted, yanking on the man's arms. "I told you to unhand me!"

"Hey! Quit it!" A voice cried out. Ishimaru looked over his shoulder and saw the brown haired man rushing towards them. Reaching them, he voiced, "Look, I understand that you two don't get along well, but for the passengers' sake, and for yours, can you please stop?" He tugged on the man's arm, which resulted in Ishimaru being dropped to the ground.

The man glared at the both of them, and with a with a, "Fine," stalked off.

"Thank you, sir!" Ishimaru uttered after a moment, as he began retrieving his items.

The man laughed slightly and scratched at his hair. "It's no problem. Just…try not to start another argument." And with that, he made his way back to his own seat.

Sitting back down in his own chair, Ishimaru gazed out the window. The passengers sat in silence, with only the air conditioning and the radio, which was playing an iconic eighties hit, making noise. Checking his wristwatch, Ishimaru noted that it was 10:12. He gently leaned his head against the window, watching the scenery pass by him. After a couple of minutes, his eyes shut in relaxation.

His relaxation was shattered as the bus abruptly stopped, and a few more people entered. While he kept his eyes closed as two sets of feet passed by him, he could still hear them.

"How are you?" a masculine voice asked from behind him.

There was no answer, and the voice continued. "Around here, people call me Teru Teru Hanamura." Still no reply. "And you are…?"

"N-Not interested!" A high-pitched feminine voice finally responded, shaking a bit at the beginning.

"Ooh. You know, I had a girlfriend once that always used to say she wasn't interested." The voice paused to chuckle. "But that was never what she meant. At least, not after she got to know me."

"Stop it..." The woman's voice returned, with just a hint of anxiety. Ishimaru opened his eyes, and was about to turn around when another voice joined the conversation.

"Hey Pal. The chick doesn't want to be bothered, so leave her be." The man with the black overcoat was the one that had spoken, and for the first time after meeting him, Ishimaru actually agreed. He stood up and took a place next to him.

"I agree. This lady is clearly showing signs of rejection, and-"

"Fuckin' Christ man."

"Language!"

"Why are you even next to me? You think I can't handle tellin' a guy off or somethin'?" the man beside him questioned, his tone becoming more and more elevated with every word.

"I believe that in a situation such as this, help and or support are always relevant!" Ishimaru exclaimed.

"I don't need your goddamn help and I sure as hell don't need your support!" The man turned to him, his fists clenched. "Tell me something, which of us is the more intimidating, manlier one? This bastard ain't gonna listen to you, but he will listen to me." A smirk snuck up on his face, and he chuckled under his breath.

Ishimaru pressed his lips into a thin line, clenching his own fists. With the man and woman completely forgotten, he stood up as tall as he could, trying to shorten their height difference. "Obviously, if you have to lecture about your masculinity, you are compensating for something." He smiled smugly to himself as the man's face flushed a deep red. It was quickly wiped off his face as his collar was grabbed for a second time that day.

"You think you're all high and mighty and can lecture me all you want only because you're wearing a soldier's uniform, huh? Is that it?!"

He gave his collar a quick shake, and like before, Ishimaru's hands found their way upon the man's arm. "Let go of me!" he called out, as he looked him in the eyes.

The man opened his mouth (probably to yell at him again), when two pairs of arms separated the two from each other. The brown haired man from before pushed his way between them, his hands in a conciliating manner. The bus had apparently stopped during the mens' argument, and Ishimaru heard the bus doors open.

"I won't have troublemakers like you two on my bus," the white haired bus driver voiced from behind Ishimaru. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you two to get off."

With a growl, the man threw a fierce glare in Ishimaru's direction, and stomped off in the direction of his chair without another word. Copying him, Ishimaru headed back to his prior seat, gathering up his suitcase and still untouched case of chocolates, inwardly sighing. He let the hotheaded man pass him, and then followed him out the bus. Pausing, he turned around the bus driver, who had gotten back into his seat. "Please, I have to get to Sacramento."

"Not on this bus you won't." Swallowing down his anger, Ishimaru turned away from the bus. "Such a shame," came the bus driver's voice, and Ishimaru faced him once again in confusion. "I had…hoped we could've all gotten along." And with that, the doors shut, and the bus sped away. The soldier couldn't help but feel nervous for the passengers within it.

Turning around, he came face to face with the one who had gotten him into this mess. He stared at Ishimaru for a moment longer, and then shook his head, stalking off while pushing his motorcycle towards a conveniently placed gas station. Good riddance.

It was at that moment that he had no idea what to do now. He couldn't have been on the bus for more than fifteen minutes, but he hadn't the slightest idea how fast the bus was going, or even where he was now. Ishimaru took a few deep breaths to help calm himself down, then glanced around his surroundings.

He was dropped off right next to an old, eighties diner. Across the street was the gas station, where the man from before was currently at. Ishimaru decided right off the bat that he shouldn't go over there. Seeing no other option, he determinedly made his way towards the diner, in hopes of getting information. The diner itself wasn't that big, and the inside looked even older than the outside. From where he could see, nobody wasn't even in the diner, except for the petite hostess, who was currently painting her nails.
"Good day, Miss," he began, getting her attention.

"Hmmmm?" she looked up from her nails. "Wanna get a table?" she said in a squeaky voice.

"No thank you," he answered, and she looked back down. "Do you, by any chance, know how far away Sacramento is?"

"Jeez, you know you can look that up on your phone, don't you?" she muttered, flicking her blonde twin pig tails behind her. "But as the hostess, I guess I have to help." She tapped a few buttons on her phone and held it up to him. "Its 'bout forty-five miles."

"Do you know if there is a bus station in town?"

"Dunno. There's one in Fairfield however. It's the next town over."

"And…how would I get there?"

"You would have to walk, dumbass." She stood up and moved beside Ishimaru, grabbing a travel map and a pen on the way. Ishimaru noticed that she was wearing an orange, authentic-looking kimono. "You're on the outskirts of Cordelia at the moment," she paused to leave a dot at his location, "and Fairfield is over here." She circled the area somewhat close to his position. "I'm pretty sure that if you got to Fairfield, you would find the bus station."

Ishimaru picked up the map and looked at it closer. "And you propose taking the streets?"

Her gold eyes widened for a moment, and she smirked. "Well, actually there is a country road over here," she grabbed the map out of his hands and drew a line. "Well, somewhere over there. Anyway, it leads straight into the middle of Fairfield. I've taken it once or twice and it saved me quite a bit of time."

"That is wonderful!" Ishimaru exclaimed. "I'll be off then. Thank you for your time."

"Um, aren't you forgetting something?" she gave him a deadpanned look.

"…Am I?"

"You need to pay for that map, stupid."

Chapter Text

Ishimaru really wished he owned a car right about now. The Californian heat had set in, and parts of his uniform stuck disagreeably against him due to sweat. Coupled with the fact that he carried multiple things with him, it wasn't a pleasant situation. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and glanced down at the travel map. According to what it said, he was nearing the country road, but he still couldn't locate it. In frustration, he kicked a pebble beside him, sending it into the street.

He sighed heavily and continued marching down the road. A car zoomed past him on his left, and he stopped in his tracks, having half a mind to try and hitchhike. Glancing absentmindedly to his right, he froze, not believing his luck.

A slim, dirt road, hidden partly behind a pizza place, stared back at him. It lead upwards, into a woodland, and was so slight that he doubted a car could pass through. Had he not stopped at that position, he probably wouldn't have noticed it. He laughed in amazement, thankful for his stroke of good luck, and began ascending the hill.

.

.

.

This mysterious, country road had to have been one of the most spectacular sights Ishimaru had ever seen. A plethora of lofty, bright viridescent trees surrounded him on both sides. Sunlight shown through the trees, casting almost a heavenly light upon a heavenly scene. The dirt road had widened considerably, and was probably the width of a regular street. Absolutely no trash was seen along the lane, making Ishimaru assume that not many people knew about the road. A bird called out unexpectedly, and a few others joined in. He smiled in contentment, taking in a deep breath of fresh, cool air.

A slight slope appeared in the road, and once reaching the top, Ishimaru discovered a fork in the road, both paths leading in complete opposite directions. The trail to his right had a sign beside it, which read, "Fairfield". To the left, a quaint, white picket fence had been set around the pass, with even a decorative mailbox placed by it. However, the one thing that caught Ishimaru's full attention was a person, clad in a black overcoat, and sitting beside a parked motorcycle.

It was the man from before, who apparently hadn't heard Ishimaru approaching. He held his head in his hands, taking deep, slow breaths.

Ishimaru stayed still for another minute, awestruck at the scene. While he didn't really agree with the man's choice of dress, he couldn't help but notice how well his overcoat popped out in the brush. The green leaves seemed to blend into a big backdrop, with the man being the primary subject. The colors were dynamic and clashed together, and if Ishimaru had a bit of time, he wouldn't mind painting the very scene before his eyes.

Realizing suddenly that he had been staring, he lightly cleared his throat. "Hello again."

"Oh Jesus!" The man exclaimed as his head snapped up at the sound of Ishimaru's voice. Once he saw who stood before him, he laughed dryly. "Why am I not surprised?"

To Ishimaru's surprise, the man didn't say anything else and remained sitting on the ground. Ishimaru was just about to head down the path to the right when a voice stopped him.

"You know, the train did go to Sacramento." Ishimaru turned around and looked down at him in confusion and was about to ask how he knew his destination, but was interrupted. "I heard you tell the bus driver you had to get there, so I put two and two together," he explained.

"Oh. Well, my train ticket didn't," Ishimaru responded.

Holding up a finger, the man took out his ticket from his back pocket. Glancing at it, he held it out to Ishimaru. "I think this is yours."

Taking it into his own hands, Ishimaru sure enough saw that it was his. "Yeah. I must've accidentally switched them on the train."

He snickered. "Dumbass."

"Language."

He looked defiantly up at the soldier with a smirk upon his face, as if to say, 'What are you going to do about it?'

Ishimaru didn't respond and the two were once again engulfed in silence. Suddenly, he remembered his question from earlier.

"So why are you in possession-"

"So why are you wearing-"

They both spoke at once. Unlike last time, Ishimaru stayed silent.

"So why are you wearing a soldier's uniform? Did ya just come back from war?" he continued.

Ishimaru nodded. "I just came back yesterday. I'd been gone four years."

He whistled. "That's a long fuckin' time."

Levelling a glare upon him, Ishimaru stood straighter. "Sorry. It just slips out," the man explained.

The shorter man was just about to ask him his own question, but was interrupted once more. "Say, answer me this soldier." Ishimaru was silent, and let the man continue. "Why didn't you fight me on the bus? You are kinda short, but bein' a soldier 'n all, I bet you know a few moves that I don’t even know about." He had stood up, and was now face to face with him.

"For starters, I am not short. Secondly, it is my desire to act like a model citizen. Of course, I would've protected myself in self-defense, if it had come to that. It is just not my aspiration to be a loud mouthed ruffian," Ishimaru responded.

The man was silent at his response, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, he threw his head back, roaring with laughter.

"You know kid? Ya ain't so bad!" he managed to stammer out through his guffaws. "You're like a little nerd that's oddly charmin'!"

"If it's one thing I certainly am not, it would be a nerd."

This only made the man cackle harder. "Dude, you just further proved my point!" In response, the soldier crossed his arms wordlessly, waiting for the man's laughter to cease, which after a while, it did.

"Since I have answered your question, I believe it is only fair for me to ask you mine." Ishimaru cleared his throat, and continued. "Why were you dragging a motorcycle with you, while you were on board a train?"

The carefree grin suddenly disappeared from his face. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

"Why not? I have answered your question."

"Wait, wait, wait. Wait. How are you even here right now?" the man quickly and conveniently changed subjects. "Only me and a few other people are supposed to know about this back road, so how did you find it?"

"I questioned a blonde hostess at a nearby diner how to get to Fairfield, and she suggested taking this road. Apparently it saves time."

"You must've talked to the bigmouth Saionji," the man muttered under his breath. "Dammit Koizumi!"

Ishimaru ignored the curse and pressed harder. "Why won't you tell me?!"

"Because I don't want to even think about it!" he shouted in vexation. His yell seemed to echo down the lanes, stilling everything into silence. Hiding his head in his hands once more, he sighed as he sat beside his motorcycle.

Ishimaru remained standing before him. His wandering eyes suddenly fixed upon the decorative mailbox, and his eyes widened. "…I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Kiyotaka Ishimaru." He stretched an arm out towards him.

The man looked skeptically at his hand for a moment, then gave it a firm shake. "Mondo Oowada."

Retracting his arm, the shorter man looked around the forest. Seeing no reason to stay longer, he turned to head down the right path.

"Wait."

Ishimaru turned back around to his-Oowada's voice. "Yes?"

"I'll…tell ya. But you might wanna sit down, cause this story is kinda long."

After placing his belongings neatly beside him, Ishimaru sat on the ground, ready to listen.

"I was going to college up in San Francisco," Oowada began. "And things were goin' pretty great - I was getting…decent grades and I was having a fabulous time up there. Well, about a month or so ago, I get this letter in the mail from my older bro. What he basically asked me was to buy some really expensive parts while I was up there, and to bring them back with me."

"Pardon my interruption, but parts? What kind of parts? And back to where?"

Oowada nudged towards his motorcycle beside him. "Motorcycle parts, obviously. And back home," he nodded towards the gated trail, "over there." He swallowed, continuing, "And along with the letter, he sent a massive roll of cash. And I mean massive," he held up a fist. "Like, as wide as my fist!"

Ishimaru nodded, not really seeing the point of how much money was sent to him.

"Well anyway, I decided that I would buy the parts the last week, because I was feeling lazy and didn't feel like doing it." He bowed his head and paused for a good minute before continuing. "But that last week, I…I got bored and felt like celebrating, ya know? It was the last week of school, can you really blame me?" He took a quick gulp of air and ran a hand through his hair. "So I got drunk and gambled almost all the money away," he explained in one breath.

"What? How much money would you say he sent you?"

"…About ten thousand."

Ishimaru was shocked into silence. "How does one even…?" he stopped himself, looking away.

"When I woke up the next morning, I had a little over fifty bucks left. I decided to take the train instead of my motorcycle, since it saved money and took a longer time to get there. That's why I had my motorcycle with me, on both the train and the bus. After the bus and gas money, I barely have any left." He reached into his pant pocket, pulling out some change. "Ah, exactly three dollars and fifty six cents," he said facetiously. Placing the money back in his pocket, Oowada muttered, "He's going to kill me if I come back home with no motorcycle parts, no money, and no good explanation."

It seemed that was the end of his story, for he no longer spoke. Both men sat in silence, listening to a nearby bird or two calling back to each other.

Ishimaru glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye. Oowada's eyes were closed, and an almost peaceful expression was on his face, which was inconceivable, given the circumstances. He stood up.

"Well, what if you do come home with an explanation? A good explanation?"

The man looked up at him in a state of awe and gloom. "Listen dude, that's real nice of you and try to help, but I don’t think, 'I lost it' would suffice." He too stood up and walked towards his motorcycle.

"No, no, I wasn't going to suggest that!" Ishimaru said. "I…have a proposition."

"Well, let's hear it."

Ishimaru paused, dreadfully realizing that he was on the spot. "Um…oh!" He gasped in his epiphany. "What if you came home with a girlfriend? Or a wife! That would explain why your money is gone! You could say that you spent the money on your wedding!"

Oowada was silent. "That…could work, but who would I ask? Saionji?" he offered, and Ishimaru guessed he was talking about the hostess at the diner. "She hates my guts! There's no way I could even pretend I was into her," he added while making a face of disgust. "Plus, she lives here. In Fairfield. Not San Francisco. So it would be a obvious lie." He sat upon his motorcycle.

"What are you doing?"

"Talking to you has really helped me, so…I'm going to face him. Besides," he started up the engine, "there's nobody. Nobody to help me, that is."

Ishimaru wanted to stay silent. He really, really did. But there was a miniscule part of him that desperately wanted to help this man, even though he had caused him loads of trouble. There was something intriguing about him, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the fact that he annoyed the heck out of him one second and acted like an adult the next. Maybe it was the fact that he was willing to admit to doing the wrong thing. Maybe it was the fact that Ishimaru didn't want to see him killed by his brother for blowing ten thousand dollars. He didn't know, not at all, but before he knew what was happening, he had opened his mouth.

"Mr. Oowada!" he yelled, to be heard above the noise of the engine. "Oowada!" he called again, at which he turned his head, and shut off the motorcycle.

"Huh?"

Ishimaru stood, with his arms open slightly. "There's me."

Oowada froze, his expression one of confusion. Ishimaru too, froze, partly wondering how Oowada would react, but mostly wondering why the hell he had even opened his mouth in the first place.

"Ha." Oowada's placid expression wavered. A moment after, his composed composure suddenly crumbled, and he flung his head back in laughter, much like before. "That’s a g-good one!" he managed to shout out.

Almost as soon as they started, his laughs halted as he realized Ishimaru wasn't joining in. "Oh. You're…fucking serious?!" he asked, his expression one of bafflement.

"Look, I can tell that you're not comfortable with this idea either. You just need someone to come and meet the family, stay a night, and leave in the morning. He possibly leaves a letter in the mailbox, which informs them that he's-"

"Left me." Oowada caught on, and finished Ishimaru's idea. He chuckled, and scratched the back of his head. "It would be pretty believable, after you've met 'em."

Ishimaru had no idea who "'em" were, but he continued. "It happens."

"Why are you doing this?" he questioned. "You owe me absolutely nothing, but you're going to do a massive favor for an asshole like me?"

"I am perfectly aware that you owe me nothing. I…" Ishimaru trailed off, his mind going blank. "…respect you. For standing up for that woman on the bus. I'm sure it took bravery and courage."

"Dude, did you even see the guy? He must've barely been over four feet tall." He crossed his arms, and looked away from Ishimaru, his voice dropping several octaves. "Besides, you respect me? It should be the other way around, if ya think about it."

"…Do we have a deal?" Ishimaru asked after a moment, deciding not to question the previous statement.

"Well, I still don't like this situation. This would've been a whole lot easier if you were a chick." Oowada groaned and began kicking at the ground. "But, since this is only for a night and because it doesn't mean anything, I guess so. But absolutely, positively no homo bro. We're just pretending to be gay for a day."

"I couldn't agree more." The two men shook hands, and seeing no point in just standing around, Ishimaru picked up his things. "Shall we be off?"

"Uh, sure." Oowada jumped back on his motorcycle. "Hop on, I guess."

"Are you crazy?" Ishimaru instinctively leaned away from the contraption. "There's no way I'm riding on the back of that…thing!"

"Oh yeah? How are you going to tell 'em how we fuckin' got here?" Oowada's face became one of disbelief. "If I tell my brother that I rode the goddamn train and the goddamn bus he'd probably have a heart attack and croak on the spot!"

"If we ride on your machine of death, we will arrive much too quickly. However, if we walk to your house, we will most definitely have ample time to discuss our 'story'," Ishimaru replied. "You didn't expect us to simply waltz in, and pretend to know things about each other, did you?"

"Uh…fuck, okay you're right," Oowada muttered while scratching the back of his head. "Your name was…Kiyoshi, right?"

"My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru," he said for the second time that day. "And you just proved my point," he added, as he began walking up the hill.

With a curse, and the sound of tires against dirt, Oowada was beside him. "Sorry. Okay, well, what's our story?"

"I believe the most believable account would be that we were enrolled in the same college," Ishimaru pondered out loud.

"If that's our story, then you'll have to take off your uniform, pal," Oowada stated. "You couldn't have been at war, and at college at the same time."

With a nod, Ishimaru shrugged off his jacket, while continuing to amble up the hill. "Tell me some things about yourself, Oowada."

"Well, my family owns a vineyard and a motorcycle bar just up ahead. I'm the head of a motorcycle gang, I wanna become a carpenter, and…" he paused and his face scrunched up in thought. "I like dogs. Is that what you were looking for?"

"In essence, yes." Ishimaru nodded. "So, a vineyard and a motorcycle bar? Those are very different from each other, if you ask me."

"Well, the vineyard is something that has been passed down from family to family. Me and my brother decided to build a biker bar a couple years ago, since a vineyard isn't exactly our cup of tea."

"Just you and your brother?"

"Yeah, well our parents are no longer with us. And it isn't just me and my older bro; we have a bunch of friends who work for us. Ya know, help around the vineyard and all? We just see 'em as family. They all come and stay with us during the harvest season, since it gets busy around that time of the year."

"When is the harvest time, Oowada?"

"This time of the year. But hey, enough about me, tell me a bit about yourself."

"Well, I moved to California at a very young age. I've wanted to go into politics ever since I could remember, and I've spent the last four years of my life fighting in a war. I enjoy old musicals and listening to Barry Manilow."

"You do kinda look like a soft-rock type of guy," Oowada admitted. "I myself like Queen."

Not having heard of the band name Oowada had mentioned, Ishimaru simply nodded.

No one spoke for quite a while, just the sounds of their shoes against the soft dirt were heard.

"Was it bad, the fighting?" Oowada asked suddenly, his voice much quieter than before.

"Once the shooting started, I just went blank," Ishimaru admitted. "The trick was to get your mind on something else."

"What did you do?"

"Write letters to my wife. In my head, that is. I would write them down, afterwards."

"About the war?" Oowada guessed.

"About what I'd like our life to be like when I got home." Ishimaru closed his eyes in thought. "A perfect little house, kids running around in the yard, as well as a great job for myself."

Instead of the expected, "Woah, how in the hell are you married?!", Oowada remarked, "She must've cherished every word."

The image of a chest loaded with hundreds of unopened letters popped into his mind. "Yeah. Every word," he stated in a dry manner.

Ishimaru was abruptly stopped when Oowada swung around in front of him. "Listen pal. You're really kind to do this for me. I just want you to know that I appreciate it."

Ishimaru paused for a moment before responding. "You're welcome, Oowada."

"Mondo."

"What?"

"My name is Mondo. If we're pretending to be married, I guess we should call each other by our first names, right?"

Ishimaru blinked. "I hadn't thought about that. I suppose you are right, Oowa--Mondo."

They reached the top of the hill, and they both stopped, for below them laid a magnificent sight. The country path split and went down a little ways, which led to rows upon rows of green grapevines. Just a little ways beyond the vines laid a large, tan house, which bordered a busy street. He noticed that on the house was hung a white banner with writing upon it, but couldn't read it due to the distance. A bit to the left of the house was a black building, which Ishimaru guessed was the biker bar Mondo had spoken of. It was an unusual sight, to see a vast, leafy forest right beside a modern house, a biker bar, and a main street.

"My parents called it, 'El Cielo'. The Sky, in Spanish," Mondo's voice rang out in the silence and the stillness on the path.

"It's beautiful," Ishimaru absentmindedly said, and from the corner of his eye, Mondo nodded.

An important thought abruptly crossed his mind, and Ishimaru set his suitcase down, placing his box of chocolates on top of it. "Well, if we're going to do this right…"

"What are you doing?"

"We can't walk in saying we're married unless we have our own wedding rings!" Ishimaru announced as he unlatched the case. He removed two of the sweets, which were encircled by a gold, tin foil band.

"Oh shit! You're right!" Mondo exclaimed.

Retrieving the two bands, Ishimaru placed the pieces of chocolate back in the case, and held a hand out. "Give me your hand."

"Thanks, but no. That's going complete homo and I won't have you putting that on my finger." Oowada snatched a band from Ishimaru's open hand. "And anyway, isn’t the man of the relationship supposed to be the one to do that?"

From the startled and slightly intimidated look on Oowada's face, Ishimaru figured his glare had done its job. "What exactly are you insinuating?"

"N-nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

Sliding the foil around his own ring finger, Ishimaru closed the box of chocolates and picked up his things, ready to get going once more.

Crack!

A sound that Ishimaru knew all too well rang out, and he instinctively dropped to the ground, pulling Oowada with him.

"Holy shit! They're shooting at us?! Aw, hell no!" Oowada yelled, right beside his ear. "We gotta get down there as fast as we can so that we don't get fucking killed!!" In a flash, Ishimaru was on his feet, due to Oowada pulling him up.

"We can't just run down there! That'll take too long!" Ishimaru protested. He opened his mouth to suggest hiding back down the hill, but was cut off by a loud purr of a motorcycle.

"Sit your ass down, Kiyotaka!"

Against his better judgement, he quickly sat behind Mondo, holding his belongings with one hand and wrapping his other around Oowada's middle. Then suddenly, a harsh wind was blown towards them, and they were speeding down the dirt hill. Ishimaru's arm tightened against him.

"I can't believe they're shooting at us! Hell, I even CO-OWN THE FUCKING PIECE OF LAND!" Mondo shouted, to be heard over the motorcycle and the wind. Ishimaru didn't say anything and buried his head into Mondo's back, trying to suppress the urge to hurl. They made a quick turn, and suddenly the gunshots ceased. The motorcycle slowed considerably, and Ishimaru opened his eyes to see that they were driving through the vineyard, and the large house from before was getting closer and closer. The banner he couldn't interpret before read, "Welcome Home, Mondo!"

A wave of uncertainness washed over him as he realized what exactly he had gotten himself into. He had thought Mondo was the strangest person he'd ever met, but after the sound of gunshots, he found himself second guessing. A sudden shout rang out, and the motorcycle came to a stop.

"Mondo! Holy crap, it's you!" A man with dark hair and a white overcoat, similar to Mondo's, was running towards them. He held a shotgun in his right hand, so Ishimaru assumed he had been the one doing the shooting. Also alike Mondo, his black hair was styled in a pompadour, but was less ridiculous or impressive than his.

Ripping out of Ishimaru's tight grasp, Mondo practically leapt off the bike and ran into the man's arms. "Daiya!"

Judging from the two's actions, Ishimaru guessed the man in the white overcoat was Mondo's brother. He quietly slipped off the vehicle and held his chattels, listening to their conversation.

"What's it been? Eight whole months?"

"Almost nine!"

"Everybody's been waitin' for ya! Chi even made your favorite cake!"

"Chi's already here?!"

"You better believe it!" The man, Daiya, pulled back. "Sorry about tryin' to kill ya before. We had expected you to be coming from the main street. I thought you guys were some punks screwing around up there."

"Oh, I took the back road for the scenery!"

Ishimaru knew that was a lie, but didn't speak up.

"Hey! Who's that behind ya?"

Looking up, Ishimaru made eye contact with the gun-toting man. He opened his mouth to state his name, but was cut off.

"Bro, this is Kiyotaka!" Mondo spoke up, and slung an arm around the soldier's shoulders.

"I see! So he's a friend of yours that you brought along to help for the harvest!" Daiya exclaimed, slapping Mondo on the back. "Good of ya to bring an extra set of hands!"

"Ah, no…it's more than that." Mondo countered. Ishimaru felt the hand on his shoulder shudder slightly, and the next words that came out of Mondo's mouth came in a rush. "He's my husband."

The man's carefree grin slid off his face as he gripped his gun tighter.

.

.

.

"Kuro!"

After his brief introduction, Daiya had stormed off into the house behind them, with Mondo on his tail. Seeing no reason to stay behind, Ishimaru scurried after them, with his belongings still in hand. Slamming the double doors open, Daiya once again called out. "Kuro!"

"Yes Daiya?" A placid, soft voice answered, and after just a moment or two, a lady came around the corner. She seemed to be wiping her hands off on her short brown dress, and her black, bobbed hair and her calm expression somewhat reminded Ishimaru of Celes. Once her blue eyes landed on Mondo, they widened, and she hobbled towards them.

"Mondo! You're back!"

Mondo was already rushing to meet her, and they tightly hugged each other in the hallway. Ishimaru took this time to gaze around at the living room, which looked completely opposite of what he had imagined. Instead of black walls and motorcycling trophies everywhere, a quaint, living room met his eyes. The walls were a robin-egg blue, and the couches and carpet were a spotless white.

"What is wrong, Daiya?" the woman asked. Both her and Mondo had separated, and she was slowly making her way towards him.

"Here is the problem!" he answered, and dramatically pointed towards Ishimaru. "Is this how you were brought up? I thought we made a promise to never, ever hide anything from each other!" He asked Mondo, who shifted uncomfortably. "A man's promise!"

"What are you talking about?" the woman asked again, finally reaching Daiya.

"What do you think I'm fuckin' talking about?" Daiya's voice was raising with every syllable. "The nerd!"

"His name is Kiyotaka." Mondo shot back.

"Oh, Mondo!"

Another feminine voice rang out, and a short girl in a green jacket and a brown skirt had turned the corner and was running towards them.

"Chi!" Mondo barely had anytime to react before she had thrown herself into his arms. Hugging her back, he swung her around, both of them laughing merrily.

They barely had time for a happy reunion before Daiya's voice broke it. "You can say hello to Chihiro later. I want to talk about this right now."

The girl, presumably Chihiro, was set down by Mondo, and looked up at him with huge, worried eyes. "It'll be okay," he assured her, setting a hand on her shoulder.

"Like hell it'll be okay!" Daiya shouted as he stormed to Mondo. From the corner of his eye, Ishimaru spotted two women, a blonde and a brunet, peeking their heads around the corner.

"Daiya, what exactly is the problem? I see no problem with bringing a friend for the summer!" the first woman exclaimed.

Her comment was ignored as Daiya continued. "I knew you shouldn't have gone to school so far away. You should've stayed here, working with your family, and not doing…God knows what in some city!"

"I'm just going to school there!" Mondo protested, his voice also increasing in volume.

"What is going on?" the second girl, Chihiro asked.

"Mondo. He is married! To him!" Again, Ishimaru was pointed at, and all eyes in the room turned to him. It was but silent for a moment.

"Congratulations, Mondo!" Chihiro jumped up and down excitedly, and again hugged him. The first woman from before said nothing.

"Oh, of course you would be fine with it," Daiya muttered under his breath. "We've lived our entire lives together. We've never kept anything from each other, and suddenly you're going to waltz in here and say that you're gay?! You were never gay!"

The expected shout from Mondo never came, as a whisper was in its place. "You are so unfair."

"Me? I'm unfair? I'm the one who came home to tell my family that I spit on their trust? I'm the one who came home to rub their faces that I married this-this…" he turned back to Ishimaru. "What, exactly, do you do?"

Ishimaru himself wasn't pleased with his own answer. "Chocolate. I sell chocolate."

Daiya looked back around, presumably with an unbelieving expression upon his face. "No. You…" Both hands found their way to his face, and he stalked to the first woman in the short brown dress. "You, you have to take over for me. I can't deal with this anymore."

The woman nodded once, but instead of going in Mondo's direction, she shambled over to Ishimaru. She stopped in front of him, and held out a hand.

"My name is Mukuro Oowada, and I'd like to welcome you to our happy family."