Archive of Our Own

The snow is white, crisply falling in sheets to the ground outside. Sunlight filters through the window, lighting parquet flooring which meets wood-panelled walls. The room is relatively large, a fireplace at one end and a sitting area comprising a plush couch, several lounge chairs, and a coffee table at the other. In the middle of it is a stately pine tree, bare of any decorations.

The figure at the window stares out at the snow, its colour reflected in the shade of his own hair, and smiles to himself, bringing his left hand to meet his right around his mug of hot cocoa. Briefly, he closes his eyes and inhales the aroma wafting from his mug. It’s a peaceful moment, the cold refreshing against his skin. A gust catches him unaware, and he nestles a bit into his oversized pale blue cable knit sweater, taking a long drink from his cup. A smile curves his lips. It’s that time of the year again, when he finally gets visitors, and for a few days his house is filled with noise and warmth. It does get lonely up in his out-of-the-way cabin in the mountains, even if he has his cat, Byakkomaru, for company.

A note pierces the silence, pulling his gaze away from the snow outside. I was following the I was following the I was – click.

“Hello?” He pauses, the same smile not moving from his face. There’s speaking on the other end, as he nods to himself. “Ah, see you soon.”

-

“Whyyyyyyy do we have to do this, uncle Guren?” Clomp, clomp, clomp. The steady sound of heavy boots setting down in and pulling out of the snow on a moderately steep incline. “Like, Shinya literally lives in the middle of literally nowhere on a literal mountain! Literally anything would be a better idea. Like all of us staying in an inn at the village which is LITERALLY at the base of this mountain. It wouldn’t cause him any trouble at all!”

“Shut the fuck up, Yuu. And stop abusing that word.” Guren is pulling two heavy suitcases with him up the aforementioned steep incline, and hardly has the energy to waste on quibbling with a bratty teenager.

“But I can’t feel my feet, and I’m cold, and I’m holding so many things, and - !” Thwack. Guren wonders vaguely if he’d somehow grown an autonomous third arm that had acted on his mental desires and given Yuu the hit to the head he’d been thinking about. That would be useful. Imagine all the shit he could get away with! Then Guren’s mind wanders to other things, and other potential mental desires, and he feels a little queasy. Maybe a third arm with its own free will wouldn’t be such a great idea, after all.

“Oi, Yuu, quit whining. You’re not even carrying your own luggage. Your uncle’s carrying it.” Turns out it’s Kimizuki who’s beaten Guren to silencing his nephew’s whining, and Guren thanks whatever god there is above for teenagers who have more sense than the one he’s been forced to bring up.

“That’s because Our Mighty Venerable Honourable Most Revered Princess Shinoa is making me handle hers! How am I supposed to push two luggages at once, huh?” Guren side-eyes Yuu at this, communicating exactly how he feels without actually saying anything. Yuu scrambles to supplement his argument. “A- And let’s not forget the ridiculous stuffed toy. Why is there a stuffed toy tied to this luggage? Who does that?”

Just behind him, Shinoa is cheerfully strolling in the snow, both hands behind her back. Garbed in a toasty hooded, fur-lined winter coat, a thick skirt, and knee-high boots, she looks the picture of luxuriant comfort. Especially because she’s free of any cares in the world, like her own ridiculous luggage.

On cue, her sing-song voice joins the fray. “You’ve finally gotten my title right! But -” She tuts disapprovingly. “Yuu-san, your treatment of my dear friend isn’t polite at all. His name is Jiro-kun, and he is much enjoying this delightful journey!” She draws level with him, and sticks her head into his personal space, enjoying seeing his disconcertment. To Shinoa, there isn’t much point talking to somebody if you can’t distress them a little bit. “This is an honourable mission you are undertaking. Besides, be respectful to your elders.”

Yuu squints doubtfully at the fluffy alpaca, mouth frozen in an eternal expression of peaceful joy. Friend? Jiro-kun? Elder? He has so many questions. He doesn’t even know where to start.

A new voice cuts in. “Thank you for inviting us along, Mr Ichinose, it’s really nice of you and Mr Hiiragi to let us join in on your Christmas celebrations. Yuu-chan feels that way too, even though he’s acting like this.” Mika smiles brilliantly, while simultaneously shooting Yuu a deadly glare that says shut up Yuu-chan why are you trying to piss your uncle off before we even get there are you an idiot?

Guren looks placated. “You’re welcome, Mika. I’m glad Yuu has somebody like you to look out for him, considering he doesn’t have any manners at all.”

Faint, matching blushes creep up on both Mika and Yuu’s faces. “Whatever, you know it wouldn’t be a party if it was just the three of us anyway!” Yuu hastily throws out, giving Shinoa’s suitcase a harder jerk than strictly necessary. Jiro-kun flops pitifully, and looks precariously close to escaping his fabric restraints to rest brokenly in the deep snow. “Uh – sorry,” Yuu says to the alpaca on reflex, then instantly regrets it when Shinoa starts cooing in the background. “I mean, you’re just a stuffed toy. I’m not sorry. Fuck. I’m talking to a stuffed toy. ARGH! Are we there yet?”

His lavender-haired compadre reaches soulfully down to caress the head of the stuffed animal, making comforting noises all the while. It’s almost eerie, the way she’s treating it like an actual wounded woodlands creature. “It’s okay, Jiro-kun. You were born to be stronger than this. People will hurt you, and you will suffer, but hang in there, and you’ll emerge stronger than ever before.” A lone tear escapes her eye. “I believe in you!” she cries.

“Um,” Yuu says. He looks around for some support, but Yoichi is chattering away merrily to Kimizuki, a flush high on his cheeks, and Mitsuba is watching Shinoa in a way that makes Yuu think he’d have better luck leaping off the nearest outcrop and hoping a wild bear takes him into its care and protects it from people like Shinoa.

He is saved by an announcement. “We’re nearly there,” Guren says, suddenly sounding a little uncertain, and Yuu watches, suddenly alert, as he nearly loses his grip on one suitcase when it hits a small bump in the trail. Narrowing his eyes, he meets Mika’s gaze, and there’s an equivalent understanding in them reflected back at him. Hmm.

Relative silence passes for the next few minutes until they’re standing right at the foot of the steps leading to the door, and Guren clears his throat unnecessarily. He leaves the suitcases on the ground, and starts to climb the steps. At the base step, he pauses, uncharacteristically courteous in his decision to kick the snow off his boots before going any further. The kids all watch as he halts at the top, raises a fist to knock, and there is a moment where his hand hangs in the air without moving before, decisively, it comes forward to rap on the wood.

The soft sound of socked feet padding on wooden flooring can be heard, and the door opens to reveal a fair-haired man, around Guren’s age, smiling pleasantly at all of them. “Welcome,” he says warmly. “Won’t you come in?"

-

It takes very little time for everybody to get settled down, eager as the teens are to finally put down their luggage and change into less unwieldy clothing. Apart from a small scuffle consisting of Yuu trying to tell Shinoa that she can deal with her own bloody suitcase and Shinoa replying that Jiro-kun has taken a liking to Yuu and wants him to handle it, there are no major hiccups.

So it is that the whole lot of them are sitting around in a circle, trying to figure out the best way to play cards with six people.

“We could…play Mahjong instead?” Yuu offers uselessly.

“Mahjong is a four player game only, dumbass Yuu,” Mitsuba scoffs. “’sides…” She looks around. “Mr Hiiragi doesn’t seem to get anyone up here much, does he? I don’t think he’d have a table and tiles.”

“We could all just take a nap together!” Yoichi cheerfully suggests, one finger raised. “Did you know, studies have shown that sleeping with a partner is good for your health – oh, Kimizuki, are you okay? Do you need to get me some water?”

Kimizuki, who is coughing inexplicably, turns an even deeper red at this, and waves Yoichi off with one arm while he covers his hand with the other.

Shinoa leans in slyly. “Don’t studies also show that to foster closeness and intimacy, people should sleep naked with their partners?” Her smile stretches wider. “Is that what you are suggesting, Yoichi-san? I didn’t know you were the naughty type.”

“Oi, Shinoa, cut it out.” The pink-haired boy comes to Yoichi’s rescue, having recovered as abruptly as he had started coughing.

He only realises his mistake when the same smile is turned upon him. Eerily, he feels like a small animal surrounded by a ring of fire. A ring of fire that is laughing at him. “Oh, Kimizuki-san, is that agreement I sense?” Shinoa scoots closer to him. “Are you also desirous of all of us cuddling together here, on this floor, nakedly, to foster intimacy and closeness? Is this our new class activity?” Suddenly halting, she jerks back, brings a fist to meet her open palm in a symbol of decisiveness. As she speaks, her voice crescendos and climbs a few pitches. “I, as class chairperson, approve this suggestion! A bonding activity of the closest type! Every crevice, no longer unexplored! We will become closer in every sense, now –“

Shinoa keels over almost soundlessly, but for a lazy “Aaaa” which she lets out as she falls sideways. Everybody turns to look at the culprit, who is flushed red to his ears, both arms suspended mid-air, having not been retracted. When they register who the culprit is, the stares intensify further. Even Shinoa looks like she might almost be a smidgen surprised.

“P-please stop talking about such things, Shinoa-san!!!” It’s Yoichi who begs this of her, eyes squeezed shut and speaking louder than strictly necessary. “It’s embarrassing!!!” Mitsuba is the first to snap out of the collective trance, crawling over to him on hands and legs to start gently stroking his soft hair in a manner that is decidedly motherly. Yuu pretends he doesn’t hear her muttering something that sounds a lot like Shhh sweet cinnamon roll, don’t cry, the world is a difficult place to understand.

Shinya takes this moment to appear in the living room, and if he is surprised by the scene that greets him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he smiles, looking lovely and like their salvation from boredom. Yuu scrambles to his feet, pulling Mika with him. “Shinya! Do you have something for us to do?”

He looks so much like an excited puppy, Shinya almost feels bad for what he’s going to ask of them next. Kidding. Shinya doesn’t feel bad about anything. “I do, in fact,” he tells them pleasantly. “I’ve just discovered that I’ve failed to do any Christmas shopping whatsoever, even though I planned everything out months ago. So…” He holds out a shopping list, which promptly unfurls itself, falling to reveal its full length. It just touches the ground, swaying to and fro above it. “I’ve decided to dispatch you lot to deal with it for me.” He winks, here – “Think you can handle it?”

Yuu opens his mouth, gaping a bit like a fish, but Mika comes to his rescue again, fairly pushing him aside to stand in front of him, smiling decorously. “Of course, Mr Hiiragi! We’ll do just that! Thank you for inviting us to stay over, it’s really nice of you.”

Shinya’s smile hasn’t moved an inch. “You’re a delight, Mika. And please, call me Shinya.” He tosses the list; Mika catches it. “Guren and I will have the tree up by the time you’re back! Safe journey, kids. Shouldn’t be too troublesome now that you don’t have to drag your luggage with you.”

As he turns to leave, Mika sags in some relief and Yuu purses his lips in indignance, but doesn’t say anything otherwise. “Well,” he says authoritatively, “We’re all going. Every one of us.” He turns to leave, and without pause he throws out a “And that includes you, Shinoa!”

A rush of air, and Shinoa waltzes ahead of him, oddly fast for somebody on such short legs. “Of course, Yuu-san, I wouldn’t miss it for the world! An adventure! A tale of daring and strength! Six youths wandering down a mountain side…”

-

“Guren, will you get the box of ornaments for the tree? I’m just about done with the li- aaaaaaaaaaaargh!” There is the sound of metal scraping on the floor, followed promptly by a soft thud and then a hoarse “Oh, shit” before there is a slightly hollow clattering.

Guren, box in hand, walks into the living room to figure out what’s happened, and finds himself met by the sight of a very flustered Shinya, trapped under the ladder he had been standing on just moments prior. The fairy lights he’d been winding around the tree are now mostly wound around him instead, and he is lying morosely in a heap at the tree’s base. “Help,” he says, miserable.

Laughing, Guren walks over and sets the box down right next to Shinya’s head. At this, the blond man cranes his neck awkwardly so as to look up hopefully at him, all about ready to thank him for releasing him from his stringy prison. Instead of stopping, however, Guren only straightens up and continues walking, and it only takes Shinya a moment to register what it is he’s actually doing when one moment he’s lying wrapped in a glorified string and the next he’s actually lit up by said glorified string. As a concession, Guren removes the ladder so Shinya is only basking in shame and not pain.

“Ichinose Guren,” Shinya bites out, rolling around futilely in an attempt to free himself and getting even more entangled in the process. The Christmas tree tilts a little precariously, pulled by the string of lights, and he wisely abandons the endeavour for fear of worsening his current situation. “Release me! At once!”

Guren steps over him, whips out his phone, and begins to snap a few pictures from various angles. He even ventures to take a selfie with Shinya, who, despite himself, smiles for it. Hey, if you’re going to be caught in an unglamorous position on the floor, lit up like a fucking Christmas decoration, you may as well work it, right?

Having sufficiently amused himself, Guren finally puts the blasted phone back into his pocket and walks back to the socket to turn off the lights. Then he comes back to Shinya, and regards him briefly for a moment, an absent smile playing on his lips. It’s a little embarrassing, and Shinya can feel his face heating up a bit. They’ve known each other for so long that Guren has seen him in various states of indignity far more than anyone else, but there’s still something about this that is contributing to the red on his cheeks. “Aaaany time now, Guren,” he grits out, verging on sulky.

As if having arrived at a conclusion, Guren taps his chin and breaks into a mild grin. “You look good like that,” he comments, but finally relents, as he starts to slowly set about unwinding Shinya from the mess he’d inadvertently gotten himself into, starting from his feet. “Honestly, I’m impressed. You act so composed all the time, and then you manage to do something like this?” Next to them, Byakkomaru has made an appearance, and is lovingly trying to chew some of his owner’s hair off. “It almost takes talent.”

Most of the festive restraints gone from about him, Shinya abruptly pulls himself into a sitting position even while Guren is working on retrieving the last length of the lights from around his neck and head. Having miscalculated (or rather, not calculated at all), he catches himself – and Guren – by surprise when they end up nose to nose, Shinya propping himself up on the ground with his elbows, Guren’s hair hanging over the two of them like a curtain.

“You little –“ the exclamation dies in his throat, as he’s suddenly stuck staring into the depths of Guren’s eyes, and is disconcertingly aware of how warm his breath is, so close to his face. He is hyper-aware of the fact that Guren’s hands are resting gently on either side of his neck, the string of lights looped gently around his fingers, and he has to fight the urge to just move in and close the gap between them.

But Guren moves first, and, dropping the string between his fingers, he’s already leaping away slightly awkwardly, laughing in an eerily mechanical way (a ha ha ha ha ha!!!) as he stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over the ornament box. “Shinyaaa, be careful next time,” he chides suavely, once he’s put enough distance between the two of them. Jerkily, he begins to take various ornaments out of the box, mumbling to himself like he really needs to announce the different varieties of tree decorations Shinya has prepared. Reindeer… Creepy Santa… Weird-ass nutcracker… Snootily, Byakkomaru hacks out a fur ball, then goes over to settle on Guren’s feet.

My cat…you have forsaken me. Sighing, and admittedly a bit shaken himself, Shinya slowly extricates himself from the rest of the lights, and sets about putting them back on the tree, head cloudy all the while.

-

A few hours later, the kids are back with the required food and drinks, and the Christmas tree is looking pretty great. Shinoa has taken to hanging out around Shinya and finding different ways to announce that the Christmas Tree is Fabulous, thinking she might be on to something when Guren and Shinya’s initial reactions to Yoichi’s delighted gasp that the tree looks great! were to look deeply uncomfortable.

“The Christmas tree is beautiful, Shinya-saaaan.”

“Thank you, Shinoa.”

“I really would say the Yuletide Plant is Splendid, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Shinoa.”

“Yoichi-san, come over here and tell Shinya-san that the Holiday-Hailing Evergreen is Excellent!”  

Shinya’s still politely smiling, but an attentive observer would notice the faint tick in his forehead. “It’s really terribly kind of you kids to shower us with praise, but – oh! The snow outside is so thick, I think it would be a lovely activity for us all to go and have a snowball fight!” His hands land suddenly on Shinoa’s shoulders, and he resolutely starts steering her towards the front door. “Come, children, it’s time to play with ice-cold balls! Hurry now.”

Excited at the thought of a snowball fight, the rest of the squad instantly drops whatever it is they’re doing to prance out of the door, screaming things like “I CALL YUU-SAN!” and “You can’t have Yuu-chan, he has to be on my team!”

Only one other person hasn’t left the lodge. “…Shinya?”

“Mm, Guren?”

“… Please be more careful about how you phrase things.”

Shinya laughs, a tinkling sound, and then shrugs on his winter coat and stuffs his feet into his boots. “C’mon, old man, let’s go join them.”

“Oi, we’re the same age,” Guren retorts.

“You’re old if you’re last, and you’re last, so you’re old!” comes Shinya’s singing reply as he’s already made his way down the steps, and has begun packing a veritable arsenal of snowballs into shape. He observes the battlefield for a while to take stock of the situation. “I’m joining Team MikaYuuYoi! Grandpa Guren will be on Team ShinSubaZuki!”

Hurling a snowball at Shinoa (partially in revenge for the whole thing about how the Festive Fir is Fantastic), he lets out a battle cry. “Bang!” He decides he likes it, and proceeds to do this with everyone else. “Bang!” Goodbye, Mitsuba. “Bang!” It was a sweet end for you, Kimizuki. His shots are deadly accurate – Shinya is a snowball veteran. After all, there isn’t much to do, living up here all year round.

Guren has just joined the fray, and Shinya runs towards base MikaYuuYoi. “Regroup!” he calls, then huddles with the teens to discuss a tactic. “Mika, Yuu, you guys take the girls. If you agitate them they’re likely to fire blindly, and then you can go in for the kill.” Speaking in a hushed tone, he is as deadly serious as if they were on an actual battlefield. “Yoichi, you seem to have a good arm. We’ll take the other two from further away so they can’t get us.”

Nodding determinedly, the team splits up to their posts. Shinya suppresses a smile at the sight of Yuu dragging Mika along, before tripping and falling face-first into the downy white snow. Mika turns around, panicked, and tries to help Yuu up, at the same time using himself as a shield against the attacks of the quick-thinking ShinSuba duo. Ah, youth.

“Okay, Yoichi, you’re with me. Your throw’s got potential, but it’s your aim you’ve got to work on, okay? Hold the snowball like this…yes, and gauge distance like so… Right, you want to give it a try? Let’s go, I’ll bang! Guren first. Bang!”

They wait with bated breath as the small white missile sails in a lean parabola towards Guren, and both of them jolt sympathetically as it connects with his head. Poor guy never saw it coming. Like a limp doll, Guren sways and hits the ground with the momentum of the snowball. “Uh, oops.”

Yoichi’s eyes are wide with awe. “Let me give it a shot!” he says, cheerfully loosing his own snowball at Kimizuki, who has just noticed the demise of his comrade and thus has his guard down, turning to stare at his unmoving body. It hits him in the back, between his shoulder blades, and with an oof! the pink-haired teenager falls over too, collapsing inelegantly onto Guren.

Shinoa’s voice wafts over to them like an aroma that you don’t want to like, but somehow invokes feelings of warmth and home. Like …orange bread from the corner bakery, even though you hate oranges. “Oho, the Princess Shinoa – that’s me – knows how to concede defeat when I see one. The enemy has brutally taken down two of our own!” She abandons her ammunition and pulls Mitsuba along with her, elbows linked. “For their honour, we must give them appropriate burials!”

Upon reaching the heap where Guren and Kimizuki aren’t moving, mostly due to the fact that they’ve decided it’s more comfortable than being pelted by high-velocity compact balls, Shinoa bends down, scoops up some snow, and begins to shower it upon them, complete with fake tragic weeping.

Having their peace disturbed is enough to make both of them stop playing dead, and when Yoichi comes running over almost-tearily to check on Kimizuki, the taller boy is the colour of his hair. He has just pulled himself upright when Yoichi heads straight into his arms, wailing sadly. “I’m sorry!!!!! I didn’t mean to hit so hard!!!!!”

Kimizuki places a hand on the soft mess of hair pressed against his chest. “It….it wasn’t that bad,” he says, in an attempt to comfort Yoichi.

While the girls are cooing over the spectacle they make, and Yuu and Mika have started a mini snowball fight of their own, Shinya takes it upon himself to crouch right next to Guren’s head, and peer over, obscuring any view the dark-haired male may have of the sky. “Guuuuren,” he sings.

“What is it, Shinya, can’t you tell that I’m dead and you murdered me.”

“Nope!” His eyes curve into delighted crescents. “Although you might be a corpse, considering how you’re not disturbed by the cold at all.” Straightening a little, he offers his hand to pull Guren up. “Truce?”

Guren sighs, then reaches out for Shinya’s hand. “Truce,” he says, but instead of pulling himself to his feet as Shinya intends, he gives the other’s arm an almighty pull with a flick of his wrist, sending him sprawling to the floor. Guren secretly feels triumphant at this payback, seeing Shinya’s inelegant fall, until the wind is knocked out of him with a whoosh and he realises he’s caused his childhood friend to fall directly onto him, and it’s only Shinya’s natural instinct to brace himself that has prevented their mouths from meeting.

He can feel a flush – horrified and – something else? – rising to his cheeks, and sees it mirrored in Shinya’s own expression. This is the second time today, he curses, trying to ignore the warmth of the body on top of his. You’re an idiot, Ichinose Guren.

He isn’t looking at the way the colour of Shinya’s hair is brought out by contrasting it with the stark whiteness of the snow around him, or the way his eyelashes make his eyes even bluer than they already are. He most certainly isn’t noticing the tiny snowflakes decorating that soft white crown, and if you told him he was considering lifting a hand to thread through it, he’d laugh. Probably. And it goes without mentioning that the blush on pale features isn’t at all attractive. It’s Shinya, for shit’s sake.

The tension is so palpable it hits the teens with a gentle thwack to their heads, and they all turn to stare at the spectacle in front of them, slowly, silently. The air is so still the snowflakes should be ashamed of the sounds they make when they hit the ground.

Swiftly, Shinoa raises her phone, and multiple clicks are heard.

-

Later that night, once everybody has been bundled into a change of clothing, warm blankets, and handed a cup of cocoa to drink, the festivities are underway. Dinner has been eaten, with plenty of warm conversation and jokes made (mostly at Yuu’s expense, because lovely as he is, the boy just isn’t terribly bright).

It’s a success all around, and Shinoa and the others have migrated from their seats at the dinner table to settle on the floor in front of the fireplace. They’re in various stages of inebriation from the eggnog, and are playing some sort of silly card game that they’re making up as they go along. In the midst of the laughter and accusing shrieks (You can’t just make rules up! – Yes I can, we all can, that’s how this works! – Yeah, but … your rules are stupid! - You're stupid! ) Shinoa glances up and notices that their hosts are missing.

Curious, she excuses herself from the others by saying she needs to visit the toilet, and then gives all her cards to Yuu for the heck of it, because god knows he needs the help. She is careful to make as little sound as possible as she pads along the corridors, listening attentively for any voices she can hear. Hmm, where can they be?

On a breeze, she hears a low murmur that sounds like Guren. Aha! Turning to look around, Shinoa can make out two figures on the balcony, and she silently congratulates herself as she creeps closer to hear what’s going on. It’s almost creepy, she’d admit, but Shinoa has always taken a sort of joy in knowing stuff, and she’s seen the looks the two have been giving each other throughout the day. Additionally, she knows something went down with the Christmas tree while they were out shopping. Pshh, just get together already.

Shinya’s leaning most of his weight on the bannister, head propped up in his hands. His mug rests on a table just behind him, and Guren’s right next to him, back resting against the railing and his own mug in his hands as they talk. It’s slow, idle conversation, really – the way it’s always been. They’ll talk about anything and nothing in particular, because it’s the other’s company that really counts.

“Hey, Shinya,” Guren says suddenly. “Why do you insist on living out here, away from everything?”

Shinya tenses a bit, turns with that deceptive smile of his. “Why, you miss me?” He collapses his arms onto the bannister and leans, bringing his shoulder to rest on them as he tilts his head to bat his lashes coyly. “Poor old man Guren, all alone without me? However do you survive?”

Guren flinches at the strength of the gaze hiding behind airily fluttering eyelids, knows Shinya is being difficult on purpose. Awkwardly, he reaches up and loosens his scarf before speaking, because it’s making him a bit uncomfortable. “Shinya”, he chastises, and gives his best stern look, one he’s perfected from years of dealing with Yuu. But then it softens, and he pulls closer.

“It’s just – maybe you shouldn’t be so adamant about never having to see your parents. Tokyo is huge anyway, the chance that you’ll ever run into those snobs is…miniscule, you know? You’re getting a little old to be acting like this. And anyway - ” Guren clears his throat unnecessarily, ends up coughing in an ungainly fashion for a bit, while Shinya watches, looking less resolute and threatening now, and more like a small animal that isn’t sure if it should trust a human not to hurt it. “Yes.”

Confused, Shinya straightens up, cocking his head. “Yes?”

Guren is turning positively red now, and he avoids the question for a while by draining his mug of cocoa before looking around for a place to put it. He considers the table where Shinya’s mug is resting, but then realises that to do that he’d have to cross Shinya, who is waiting for an answer, and thus, desperately, he decides that the place for his mug to reside is the floor. As he stands back up, he’s beginning to realise that it isn’t the best idea he could’ve had, and that the questioning gaze has intensified. Uh. Wow. Guren, you’ve done it again.

He figures he may as well get it over and done with. “Yes,” he says, a pit of dread opening in his stomach, “I miss you.” While he’s at it, he may as well go the whole way. “I miss having you around, and I miss all the stupid ugly drawings you’d leave on my notes in college, and I miss our café haunts when we just didn’t feel like studying.

“Sometimes when I’m at work I think about what you’d say if you were here, but you never are anymore, and then I think about why you aren’t, and I hate that you feel – you feel like you need to withdraw from everybody because of something that isn’t your fault.” He pauses, grabs Shinya gently but firmly by the forearms, shakes him lightly. “It isn’t your fault,” he says with feeling.

“And you have no idea how afraid I was to come here, because every year that I don’t see you is another year that you might have changed, is another year I can feel you slipping further away from me. And for somebody who’s had you around as long as I can remember…” Guren trails off, suddenly embarrassed at this incredibly uncharacteristic show of emotion, and beginning to be fully, dreadfully aware of the enormous ramifications of everything he’s just said. The next line is said in a whisper. “…That’s the worst, Shinya.” Awkwardly, he lets his arms fall.

A beat passes, then two, and he only raises his gaze at the sound of strangled huffing. “..Shinya?” Worried, Guren grips the blond by his shoulders, rubs comforting circles into them. “Are you – I’m sorry,” he gabbles in a rush, “Uh, you can ignore everything I said, I – ”

Shinya looks up, and he’s tearing a bit, but he’s laughing too. “Was that a roundabout confession, Guren?” he manages, but doesn’t wait for a spoken answer, Guren’s change in expression being all he needs. He nods to himself, shakily, then lets out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. “I’m so glad,” he expresses honestly, then tangles a hand in the tail of Guren’s scarf, the other pressing against his chest.

“Guren,” he says, “Can I kiss you?”

He receives a dumb nod in response.

“Good,” enunciates Shinya, as he tugs firmly on the scarf to bring the one person he’s always cared about closer to him, and meets him halfway in a kiss.

-

Shinoa feels a little bad about having viewed this entire emotional exchange, and watches as they pull away just enough to continue a discussion, now at some lower volume that she can’t  hear.

Wisely, she decides to leave the two men to it, a fresh idea forming in her head. Ahahaha… time to set up a pool on whether or not Guren and Shinya are seeing each other. Twin gleams form in her eyes, thinking of Yoichi and Yuu’s obliviousness, Kimizuki and Mika’s fixations on Yoichi and Yuu respectively, and Mitsuba’s – adorable – refusal to partake in betting pools as a matter of conscience. A smile grows on her face, and widens at the thought of all the possibilities.

I’m going to be rich!