Chapter Text
Sia la Luce was quiet in the blue of the evening. True to its name, the restaurant glowed with warm orange light, a soft beacon on the Okinawa street. Inside, all of the day’s commotion and noise had faded. Kojiro was finishing cleaning up for the night, singing idly under his breath to an old Mina CD as he wiped down the bar. He could feel Kaoru’s gaze fixed on him from behind.
Kaoru was seated at his usual place at the bar, an empty plate and a wine glass in front of him.
“So,” he said. “What exactly is the goal of this game?” He rested his chin on the heel of one hand, the other wrapped loosely around the stem of his glass.
“It’s not a game,” said Kojiro. “It’s a list of questions. And the goal is just to get to know each other better.”
“Then there’s no point,” Kaoru huffed dryly. “I already know everything about you.”
Kojiro leaned towards him over the bar. “Look who’s feeling presumptuous,” he replied, a familiar, teasing spark of aggression flashing to life in his eyes.
Kaoru grit his teeth and shoved forward. “As if you could keep a secret from me, gorilla-brain.”
“Believe it or not, I don’t give you a play-by-play of my life!”
“It certainly seems that way, since you never shut up!”
“Coming from the guy who’s always talking to his robot girlfriend—”
“You’re so predictable!” Kaoru shouted. “How many times do I have to tell you that she’s not a robot, she’s an AI!”
For a brief moment, Kojiro’s forehead knocked against Kaoru’s, tension crackling between the two of them. And then Kojiro leaned back abruptly, bursting into a fit of bright laughter. “Whatever, nerd,” he said. “We’re doing the questions.”
Kaoru spluttered. “What! I just said—”
“Come on, what are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of a stupid game, you idiot. I simply don’t see the point in wasting my time on it.” Kaoru shoved his empty plate towards Kojiro and folded his arms, glowering. “What put this idea into your tiny brain, anyway?”
Kojiro didn’t take the bait for another argument. “I heard Reki telling Langa about it last night at S, said he’d read about it online. I thought it sounded fun.” He shrugged, pouring himself a glass of wine, and then rounded the bar to sit beside Kaoru.
“What kind of questions are they, anyway?” Kaoru grumbled.
Kojiro grinned. “Well, let’s find out, huh?”
“You haven’t even looked at them yet?”
Kojiro ignored him pointedly. “Hey Carla,” he said, “can you get us the thirty-six questions?”
The slim bracelet around Kaoru’s wrist chirped to life. “Of course, Joe. Accessing information on ‘The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love.’”
Kaoru made a face. “That lead to love?”
“Um,” said Kojiro. “I guess couples do it?”
Kaoru scoffed and looked away in mock disinterest. Inside, he felt uncomfortably fragile.
“The thirty-six questions have become more than just a tool to help individuals fall in love,” Carla recited from the website she’d found. “In fact, they can help long-term couples—who think they already know everything about each other—discover new facets of their partner and fall in love again. Divided into three sections, the questions move from lighthearted ice-breakers to deeper queries that foster self-disclosure and vulnerability.”
Kaoru felt his face growing redder and redder. He stared resolutely into his wine glass. “This is pointless,” he said.
“Would you like me to read the first question, Joe?”
“What—” Kaoru spluttered, “Since when do you answer to him, Carla?”
“I am programmed to respond to Joe’s voice in addition to yours. Would you like me to cancel his request, Master?”
Kojiro wore a shit-eating grin. Blush burning high on his cheeks, Kaoru slapped him hard with his fan, and then turned away.
“Yes, Carla, cancel it. I’m not doing this idiotic lovers’ game.”
“Aw, come on, Kaoru,” Kojiro whined, with a look in his eye that said he knew exactly how annoying he was being, and that he was doing it on purpose. “You heard what she said. Even people who think they already know everything about each other get something out of it.”
“I know,” Kaoru said flatly. “That’s exactly what I want to avoid.”
“Are you keeping secrets from me, pinky?”
“No,” he snapped, “What I meant is that I’d rather shove forks in my eyes than listen to you blather on about yourself for one moment longer than necessary.”
“Is that true? I think you just don’t wanna talk about yourself,” said Kojiro. “Come on, how bad can it be?”
Kaoru glared at him as if to say, Don’t make me answer that. And despite the urge to goad him further into an argument, a part of Kojiro softened. He knew how closely Kaoru guarded and bottled his emotions, so a sudden proposition like this must be at least mildly terrifying—it was entirely unknown, and based on the concept of vulnerability. Though Kojiro knew that Kaoru would never admit to his anxiety.
“Okay, look,” Kojiro said, thinking. “How about this: we both get one free pass. If there’s one question that you really don’t want to answer for whatever reason, you can just skip it. Same goes for me. Deal?”
Kaoru sighed. “You have your heart set on doing this, don’t you?”
Kojiro shrugged. “Seems fun. And since I haven’t seen much of you lately, I thought…” he faltered for a moment. “Well, y’know.”
Kaoru peered at him quizzically. “You know that I’ve been catching up on commissions ever since I got the cast off. I haven’t had time for much of anything besides work and S.”
“I know,” Kojiro said lightly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t still miss having your annoying ass around to mess with sometimes.”
Kaoru slapped him with his fan again, but Kojiro caught the edge of a small smile on his face as he turned away. “I want more carbonara,” he announced. “And—open another bottle of wine.”
Kojiro shook his head fondly, already on his way back to the kitchen. “Whatever you say, princess.”
He returned some time later with a plate for Kaoru, a plate for himself, and a freshly opened bottle of Gavi. “You ready?” Kojiro grinned, sliding the plate towards his friend and pouring them both some wine.
“If we must,” Kaoru huffed.
“That’s as good as I’m gonna get. Hit it, Carla.”
“Question one,” Carla said. “Given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest?”
Kaoru snorted. “That’s stupid,” he said through a mouthful of pasta, not bothering to look up at Kojiro. “I have you already.”
And maybe it was the way Kaoru hadn’t even hesitated. Maybe it was the flippancy of his tone, as if it would be absurd to even think of giving a different answer. Whatever it was, Kojiro suddenly found his reply caught in his throat, and for a moment he couldn’t speak at all. He just stared at Kaoru, who was staring at his plate, oblivious to the fact that Kojiro’s heart had seized onto his words, blown them up to the size of billboards, and decided to never let them go.
But finally, he found his voice. Kojiro cleared his throat and mentally shook away his sentimental thoughts. “I can’t be your guest if you’re in my restaurant all the time, idiot.”
“Fine,” Kaoru huffed. “Anyone in the world?” He thought for a moment, tapping a finger idly against his glass. “I guess I’d like to have dinner with the calligrapher Yamaguchi Aoi. She’s a creative inspiration of mine, so I’d enjoy the opportunity to have a conversation with her. I admire how she engages with the form, especially with her use of technology and incorporation of other artistic mediums.”
“I remember you telling me about her performances,” said Kojiro. “That’s a good answer.”
“Good answer?” Kaoru echoed wryly. “What, is this for a grade?”
“Shut it, four-eyes, it’s my turn.”
“Pick someone to cook for, then.”
Kojiro laughed. “No way! He’s gonna be cooking for me. I pick Bottura, obviously.”
Kaoru stared blankly. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”
“Um, yes? The world-famous Italian chef? Three-Michelin-star restaurant in Modena?”
“Ah. Did you ever go there while you were in school?”
“God, no. One meal would’ve cost me, like, a month’s rent.”
“Hm.” Kaoru sniffed. “Their carbonara is probably better than yours.”
“You little princess—!” Kojiro spluttered. “You’re literally inhaling a second plate of my carbonara as we speak.”
In reply, Kaoru stared at him and slurped a noodle into his mouth as noisily and annoyingly as possible. Then he swallowed, smirked at Kojiro’s grossed-out expression, and declared, “Second question, Carla.”
“Yes, Master,” she replied. “Question two: Would you like to be famous? In what way?”
Kaoru laughed a little and took a sip from his wine glass, looking at Kojiro. “I know what your answer will be, you oversized attention whore.”
“Douche,” Kojiro spat. “You’re the one who preens like a peacock for the cameras at all those stuffy exhibitions and demonstrations.”
“My work is not stuffy—!”
“God, we’ll never get anywhere like this,” Kojiro cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Can we just—can we try not to piss each other off tonight?”
Kaoru glared daggers at him, but didn’t return to shouting. “Fine,” he said curtly. “Answer the question, then.”
The flush gradually receded from Kojiro’s face as his expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t wanna be famous,” he said. “I’m happy with how things are. Sia is already one of the best-rated restaurants in Okinawa, and that’s good enough for me. Plus, I like my S fame.” He winked.
Kaoru rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d think that being followed around by a gaggle of hormonal fans is fame.”
“Don’t act like you don’t have your little fanclub too. We’re in the same boat, baby.”
“At least I don’t engage with mine!”
“And how cruel of you, Cherry-sama.” Kojiro sighed dramatically. “You won’t even accept their Valentine’s gifts.”
“No, I won’t. Because there is no way I’m buying White Day gifts for a bunch of teenage girls,” Kaoru said flatly. “You, on the other hand—”
“Oh, come on, pinky, you know I’m just nice to the younger girls,” Kojiro said. “It makes them happy. I don’t do that shit, I’m not Adam.”
“Please don’t bring him into this.”
“Huh! I didn’t know the word ‘please’ was in your vocabulary.”
Kaoru elbowed him hard. “What happened to not pissing each other off?”
“Alright, alright,” Kojiro laughed. “Where were we, anyway? Do you wanna be famous, Kaoru?”
“I’m content with my present status in the calligraphy world.”
Kojiro snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure you are.”
“Carla, we’re moving on.”
“Would you like me to read question three?”
“Yes,” said Kaoru.
“Okay, Master. Question three: Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?”
“You first,” Kaoru said.
Kojiro shrugged. “Yeah—every call I make in Italian,” he said with a laugh. “My calls with Giulia are an exception ‘cause I know she won’t judge me when I mess up, even if she does tease me about it sometimes. But for, like, that order I called in from Italy last month, yeah, I rehearsed. Sue me.”
Kaoru snorted. “I’m imagining you pacing your office like an ape, muttering Italian under your breath.”
“Of course you are,” said Kojiro, punching him in the arm. He promptly received a smack from Kaoru’s fan in return. “Now you answer.”
“I plan appropriately for my business calls. I dislike wasting time.”
Kojiro grinned. “So… you rehearse.”
“I do not,” Kaoru snapped.
“Whatever you say.”
Kaoru glared at him. “Is this game supposed to be enjoyable?”
“What, you aren’t having fun?” Kojiro winked, and Kaoru rolled his eyes. “Carla, next.”
“Question four: What would constitute a perfect day for you?”
Kojiro grinned. “Oh, this one’s fun.” He tapped one finger idly against his wine glass, thinking. “A perfect day… let’s see. I don’t have work, so I sleep in till nine. I get breakfast from that place downtown with the really good tamagoyaki. Then I go to the gym, maybe with Haru? He’s a good gym partner. After that, I’d drag your ass to one of the restaurants in Okinawa City that I’ve been dying to try, we stuff our faces, and I trick you into footing the bill. Maybe we’d do a little food tour. Afterwards, I take a long, luxurious nap at home, then make us a light dinner. At midnight we head to S. All the kids are there. We beef, I kick your ass like usual, and as my prize, you have to be nice to me for a full week. After S, wine and gelato at Sia. Then I turn on the TV and see that Adam’s had his ass thrown in jail, and I sleep better than I have in years. That’s my perfect day.”
Kaoru cocked his head. “That’s it?”
Kojiro laughed. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? I think it sounds like a pretty damn good day.”
“It just sounds… normal. We do that all the time. Eating out, S, beefing.” Inside, a spark warmed to life inside Kaoru, from what he didn’t know. Quickly, he fanned it out.
“I’m surprised you aren’t arguing with me about winning our hypothetical beef,” Kojiro said with a smirk.
“Oh, I’d win. That goes without saying.”
“So, is that your perfect day? Kicking my ass at Crazy Rock?”
“No. I could beat you in a race any day with my eyes closed,” Kaoru laughed. “I’d want my perfect day to be special, not just any old Saturday.”
“Alright, go ahead, then. What’s your answer?”
Kaoru thought for a moment. “I’d sleep in till ten, then spend the day at an art museum.”
“Yeah? Like, in Naha? Or are you traveling?”
“Don’t interrupt me,” he snapped. “I want to travel. Where haven’t we gone?”
“Uh, well, we’ve done Paris and Florence… the Louvre and that other French one, then the Uffizi Gallery when you came to visit… we’ve done the TNM and Adachi in Honshu…” Kojiro trailed off pathetically. “I don’t know! Don’t ask me, I’m not a museum encyclopedia. Isn’t that what your girlfriend’s for?”
Kaoru scowled. “You’re useless,” he said. “For my answer, I’d visit Tokyo during cherry blossom season. It’s far enough away that it feels like a vacation, but 1) I don’t have to learn a new language or enter a different time zone, and 2) I can spend the evening at an onsen after spending my day at the Tokyo National Museum. Since it’s my perfect day, the city wouldn’t be crowded at all, despite the time of year. And you’d treat me to lunch and dinner, of course.”
Kojiro laughed. “So I’m coming with you, huh?”
“Of course. I need someone to carry my things and pay for my food.”
“Prissy princess.”
Kaoru slapped him with his fan. “Next.”
Carla’s purple light flashed gently on his bracelet as she spoke. “Question five,” she said. “When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?
Kojiro rolled his eyes. “Man, I don’t know.”
“You were singing earlier.”
“Hm?”
Kaoru set his fork down on his plate with a clink, having finished the carbonara. “I heard you singing to yourself earlier, while you were cleaning up.”
“Oh. I don’t even remember that.”
“You sounded terrible.” Kaoru smirked.
“As if you have a better voice.” Kojiro downed the rest of the wine in his glass. “Okay, well, I’m pretty sure the last time I sang for someone else on purpose was when Hiromi and I went to that karaoke bar a few months back.”
Kaoru tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh. “That must have been, ah, interesting to witness.”
“I was pretty drunk, and we had a hell of a lot of fun! Your turn.”
Kaoru rolled his eyes. “I… sang to the radio yesterday. And the last time I did it for someone else was when we all sang ‘Happy Birthday’ at Reki’s party.”
Kojiro grinned. “Yeah?”
“Yes. Moving on. Carla?”
“Question six: If you were able to live to the age of ninety and retain either the mind or body of a thirty-year-old for the last sixty years of your life, which would you want?”
Kaoru let out a clipped laugh. “Well, I know what you’re going to say.”
Kojiro frowned. “As if it’s not just as obvious what you’d pick, computer-brain.”
Raising one eyebrow, Kaoru thought for a moment, then said, “Wrong. Try again.” He smirked.
“So… you’d pick body over mind?” Kojiro’s brow furrowed as he met Kaoru’s gaze.
“Yes. I hated being injured, not being able to take care of myself in basic ways.” He looked firmly away from Kojiro as he spoke, his voice resolute and unemotional. “And I hated not being able to skate or do my calligraphy work. I can’t imagine not being able to hold a brush steady or get on a board anymore. That’s my reasoning.” His eyes flickered back to Kojiro’s, steely, as if challenging Kojiro to try prying more out of him. “If my memory goes, I’ll have Carla to help me,” he added. “I’ll survive.”
“Huh,” Kojiro said. “I wouldn’t have guessed that you’d say that. But it makes sense.”
“I suppose now you’re going to tell me about how in love with your body and muscles you are.”
Kojiro grinned. “I could, but I’m gonna answer the question instead. I pick mind.”
Narrowing his eyes, Kaoru rested his chin in one palm and leveled his gaze on Kojiro. “Explain.”
With a deep breath, Kojiro said, “I know what you expect me to say. But the more I think about it, I guess I’d choose my mind over my body. I’ve made peace with the fact that one day I probably won’t be able to get on a board anymore, and that’s okay. That’s why I skate as often as I can, while I can. I wanna make the most of my life in the present. And that’s why I try to keep myself in shape—not only am I hot as fuck,” Kojiro grinned, “but the better I take care of myself now, the better I’ll feel as I age. I know my body’s gonna change, and that’s fine, as long as I stay active. But, I don’t know… losing my mind, y’know, my memory and the way I think… that terrifies me, hah.” Kojiro ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, eyes wandering about the room. “I can’t imagine forgetting certain things, people, places… I want to remember everything. And I want to keep experiencing everything in the fullest way possible. Does that make any sense?”
Kaoru was quiet for a moment. “Yes, that makes sense,” he said. “I wouldn’t have expected a gorilla to be so sentimental.”
“I’m not sentimental! I just care about things. I’m not a robot.”
“That feels pointed.” Kaoru’s face heated.
“Well, as long as you care about things, then you can’t be a robot. That’s your decision to make, four-eyes,” Kojiro said, smirking.
“I’m not a robot,” Kaoru snapped. “You’re like a pest. You never stop bothering me.”
“And yet you’re still here. Next question?”
Kaoru huffed. “Make me dessert, then we’ll see.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Kojiro grinned, stood up, and swung his apron back around his waist in one perfect motion. “Comin’ right up, princess.”