Archive of Our Own

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the man beside his bed.

He couldn’t remember his own name, nor the man’s with the tear tracks on his sleeping face, but he was struck with the weird feeling that he should. But nothing about him was familiar, at least not in the sense that gave him any indication to who exactly was crying over him… or why he was crying over him— or who him was in the first place. 

One thing he knew for certain was that he was in a hospital; the bed was uncomfortable and had that strange plastic design; an IV bag was pumping liquid into his bloodstream via a vein in his forearm; the walls were disgustingly white, and they weren’t helped by the harsh white light from the hallway, his own light turned off likely due to the darkness outside. Possibly out of hatred for every other sight he was granted, he looked back to the man beside his bed, deciding to study all that he could before he eventually stirred. Dark green hair was dishevelled on his head and a tad greasy, he hardly fit in the white t-shirt he wore as his muscles practically begged to be released, pulling on the fabric so taut he was worried the seams of the shirt would tear.

Despite… well, everything, he was actually rather handsome. Not someone he would go for, partly because those types of men always seemed to know how attractive they are and treat everyone as if they deserve less than they do, and partly because a man like that would never go for a man like him.

And… what was that again?

Then his eyes were drawn away from the man at his bedside to himself, noting the long pink hair that curtained his face as he looked down, his pale skin and thin but muscular arms. Vaguely, he wondered what colour his eyes were. Only then did he realise just how blurry the world was.

Was it meant to be this blurry? Or did he have glasses before?

… before what?

Before whatever brought him into the hospital?

For a moment he looked around for anything that could help him look around and noticed a bedside table that had four things scattered across it. One, a pair of glasses, which he immediately perched on his nose and was relieved to have his vision back to no less than perfect. Two, a half-eaten bag of calbee. Three, a phone, the screen cracked. Four, a polaroid photo, slightly crumpled but in good enough nick.

First he picked up the photo.

The first thing he noticed was that there was a group of people on a beach, the sky clear and blue, the sand golden, the water not too far out. The man taking the photo was the same man sleeping at his bedside, his eyes a glistening red-tinted brown, but they weren’t looking at the camera. No, they were looking at a man, with pink hair that was tied up into a far too neat bun, with stars in his eyes as if nothing else mattered. The man at his bedside was looking at him as if he hung the moon and the stars and kept the Earth in orbit. It was with slow realisation that he realised that he was the one he was looking at. 

And the smile on his own face was nothing short of pure fondness. 

There were other people in the photo, too. A younger man, partially bald with ginger hair atop his head, looking like a man who seemed more bark than bite. Then there were two teens, red hair and blue hair, one wearing a bright smile and the other mid-eating something, unaware of the arm slung over his shoulders. Finally a kid, no older than fourteen, with a cat hoodie on that he tried to tug over his face before the photo was taken, but to no avail. At the bottom of the photo, some words were written in such neat handwriting that he found himself simply admiring it for a moment.

And then he read it.

Our family.

He put the photo back down. And then, after a moment of hesitation and another glance to the man beside him, picked up the phone. The screen was bright when he turned it on, making him squint and blink away tears, having to wipe them away under his glasses before finally getting a look at the lock screen. 

Once again, and this seemed to be a recurring theme, it was him and the man beside him, except this time it was a photo of them mid-kiss, the man giving a smirk and a side-glance to the camera whilst he—

Well he wasn’t sure how to explain the expression on his own face.

On cue, there was a groan beside him, followed by incoherent mumbling, followed by a much more coherent, “Holy shit.”

He looked up from the phone, letting the light of it brighten the room, letting it show him the relief and joy and pain and confusion flash across the man’s face all at once. “You’re awake.” He whispered, quiet, unsure, and so so excited that he almost got excited by proxy, noting the growing smile and the way he gripped the sheets in his hands. “How are you feeling? Do you need water? God I missed you, I was so worried—“

“I’m—“ he cut him off, only to cut himself off, unsure how to go about this.

Because he was meant to know this man, meant to at least like him to be kissing him, for him to be waiting at his bedside in a hospital only god knows where, but he didn’t. For crying out loud— he didn’t even know his own name, let alone anyone else’s!

“I’m sorry.” He managed out, because it was the only thing he could think to say, feeling a tad guilty at the overwhelming confusion on the man’s face, but he couldn’t exactly pretend he knew him, could he? “I— I don’t want to sound rude, or anything,” and that only worsened the confusion, somehow, “But who are you?”

Silence.

Absolute, utter, pain-staking silence.

“What?”

“Well, probably better to start with who am I,” he scoffed, trying to make light of the situation, trying to get that look off of his face, trying so hard to be okay and to remember the colour of his own eyes. “And also where am I?”

“You—“ he managed before his eyes glossed over. It was hope that drove his next words, hope that he had it wrong, despite knowing, somehow, that the hope was futile, he said, “You’re kidding, right?”

He couldn’t help his light laugh, the shake of his head, the way he leaned back against his pillows. “I wish I was.” Then he winced, because ow, and he lifted a hand to the back of his head, finding bandages woven around the crown of it. “Jesus, this is worse than I thought.”

“To, um, answer your,” there was a shiver there, a quake to his voice that the man tried to correct despite the fresh tears on his face, “Your questions, I’m Nanjo Kojiro, your—“ he cut himself off again, unsure, wiping at his face, before finally saying, “Your boyfriend.” 

And that was a strange thought. 

He didn’t need memory to know he would never date a shitty person. Then again, he didn’t exactly seem like a shitty person, and that was likely his own stereotypes talking. 

“You are Sakurayashiki Kaoru.”

“That’s a mouthful.” He scoffed out, because it was. He must’ve lived a difficult life before this, huh?

Somehow, Nanjo-san laughed at this, a horrible mixture of amusement and pure hurt that Kaoru’s heart throbbed. “We’ve been saying that for years, but you still insisted strangers say your full last name.”

“Damn right.” He huffed out, glad to hear Nanjo-san’s huffing laugh again, glad he wasn’t purely hurting. 

“And, um- sorry,” he turned, wiped his eyes with his forearms, took a deep breath and turned back, “You’re- you’re in Okinawa Prefectural Chubu Hospital, you had an… accident.”

“An accident?”

“Well it was more of a purpose, I guess, because there is nothing accidental about what happened, but- yeah.” He hiccuped then, wiped at his eyes, and stood up. “I’m gonna go- ah, get a nurse, just- yeah.” And then he left. Not without glancing back when at the door of course, obviously debating leaving Kaoru alone, but in the end he left, clicking the door shut behind him. 

All Kaoru managed to do was drift back to sleep, eyelids too heavy to keep his eyes open.

The next time he woke up there were two doctors, two nurses, and Nanjo Kojiro. One doctor was beside his bed in a similar place to where Nanjo-san had sat prior, and the other doctor was behind him holding a clipboard and a pen, and she seemed far too bored with her job as honorary writer for whatever test they were about to perform. Nanjo-san sat behind her, his left leg bouncing and his arm with it, fingers in his mouth with the tips of them likely chewed up, but he seemed more relieved at seeing Kaoru awake.

“Sakurayashiki-san, I’m going to ask you a few questions, is that okay?” The first doctor asked, his voice low and gravelly likely with age, his hair greyed and wrinkles a tad prominent. All he could manage was a nod. “Nanjo-san informed me of what he has already told you, so we will ask you some unrelated questions to determine the severity of your possible memory loss.” He stood up a bit straighter after this, hands in his pockets as he studied him, eyebrows knitted together as if he was trying to figure out the solution to a particularly difficult puzzle. “When is your birthday?”

“Uh,” he said smartly, looking to Nanjo-san for help, but to no avail, “May?”

The doctor pressed his lips together in a line as the doctor behind him wrote something down. So, not off to a great start.

“What is your current occupation?” He asked next, and- what would he do as a job? Was his job what made him get injured in the first place? Did he work with Nanjo-san and that was how they met?

The silence wasn’t a great answer, so he instead said, “I don’t know, librarian? That seems like an interesting job.” 

The doctor wrote something else down.

“What is your mother’s name?”

“Surely you have gathered that I am guessing all of these, right?” Was his only response, and the doctor only sighed at this, leaning back on his heels.

“Technically we should do more tests, but if you’re sure more questions won’t give any results then—“

“Wait, doctor?” Nanjo-san finally spoke up, standing from his frenzy to look at the doctor, then at Kaoru, then back at the doctor. “It’s bad isn’t it?”

The doctors shared a look, and that was all that was needed really. They ushered him outside anyway and shut the door, leaving just the nurses to do their jobs; refill the IV; fill out the form at the end of his bed to confirm the check-up; a glass of water by his bed-side.

Weirdly.

Then, after a few minutes, Nanjo-san returned, no doctors in tow as he fell back onto the chair he was sat on the first time he woke up, close enough to the bed to hold his hand if he wanted to but not close enough to hold him. Depsite the hand running down his face likely from exhaustion, Kaoru could see the sad look in his eye, a fractal of hope sure but also resignation, and acceptance, and a fuck ton of pain and suffering and agony that Kaoru wished he wasn’t the cause of.

He didn’t know him, didn’t remember ever loving him, but who wants to be the cause of anyone’s pain?

So, slowly, he offered a hand. 

Nanjo-san stared at it for a moment, shell-shocked and dazed and hopeful, but then the resignation set in and he took the hand offered, tears welling in his eyes once again. “You don’t remember me, do you? You weren’t joking?”

“I don’t know what kind of person I was to make you think I would joke about this.” 

This pain, this suffering, this unknown.

“I just don’t like seeing you hurting.” Was what Kaoru admitted as he squeezed his hand, and Nanjo-san squeezed it back. Kaoru pretended not to notice the sobs and the tears that came with them, waiting the minutes it took for the cries to calm into hiccups into shaky breaths. 

And then, quietly, “Who are our family?”

Nanjo-san’s head shot up, looking at Kaoru with such deepness he worried he was being turned inside out, but then his gaze flicked to the polaroid and back to him, a warm smile, no matter how small, budding on his face as he used his spare hand to pick up the photo. “This is us, here at the front. I’m the dad and you’re the mom—“

“Why am I the mom?” He asked, unable to stop the disdain seeping into his voice, but Nanjo-san simply laughed as if this was normal. Maybe it was, once. 

“That was Miya’s doing, he accidentally called you mom one day and we ran with it.” Nanjo-san explained, taking a moment to dry his face again before coughing, showing the photo once more, “Miya is the kid in the cat hoodie. He’s an Olympic skateboarding hopeful, quite a good challenge despite his age.”

“Skateboarding?” Kaoru asked before he could forget, and the fond and hurt smile returned. Surprisingly, Nanjo-san ignored him, looking back at the photo. 

“Higa Hiromi is the ginger guy, but we call him Shadow, he’s the actual adult out of all of us despite being younger than us two.”

Us two.

He said it so easily, as if they were made to be grouped together. It wasn’t Kaoru and Kojiro, it was KaoruandKojiro.

“He works at a flower shop in town and takes the kids places in his car,” not very happily was muttered quietly afterwards.

“What a weird name, Shadow, where did that come from?” He spat out, unable to keep the disdain from his voice. Nanjo-san’s smile became easier then, as if he was used to this, as if the conversation was becoming more about muscle memory than actual effort. 

“Well the kids call you Cherry, because your skating name is Cherry Blossom.”

“That’s badass, Shadow is not.”

Nanjo-san rolled his eyes but said nothing more on the topic, looking back to the photo. “The other two are Reki and Langa.”

Once again.

Other two.

Not Reki and Langa, RekiandLanga.

“Reki is the one with the red hair, he is what I would call sunshine incarnate.” Nanjo-san explained, looking at the photo with that same smile. “He struggles sometimes, but that’s what we’re here for.” Then, he sighed, eyes closed for a moment before he coughed and continued. “Langa is the one with the blue hair, he’s Canadian, and he is probably the best skater you can find in Japan and he’s only been doing it for a couple months.”

“And he’s the best?”

Nanjo-san seemed to hesitate here, as if he needed to say something but didn’t want to. Then, he closed his eyes, counted up to ten under his breath, and smiled again. “In my opinion, yes.”

Kaoru hummed, not entirely sure what else to say as Nanjo-san returned the photo to its place on the bed-side table, thinking for a moment.

Thinking about the hand holding his.

Thinking about the lock screen.

Thinking about, most importantly-

“What colour are my eyes?”

Nanjo-san didn’t even have to look to say, “Gold. Like the gold you see during summer-night sunsets, or on pristine beaches.” He sounded almost reminiscent, gaze landing on said eyes with a softer smile this time, reserved sure but soft all the same. It was as if he couldn’t help but let his love seep into his bones and muscles and eyes and smile and words, as if there was far too much to keep a lid on it so he let it roam free, simmering on the surface and leaking into his every move, every step, every admission.

And suddenly he wasn’t just muscle and green hair and wrecked, exhausted, pained sobs. Suddenly, Kaoru understood why he could’ve fallen for him.

He didn’t love him, not yet, and he couldn’t say with certainty if he ever would again, but he could see in that moment why he did, and that was enough. 

“So, skateboarding?”

It took about ten minutes of convincing to get him to talk about it.

“Why are you dodging the topic?”

“The doctor said to avoid any possible triggering memories!”

“Okay, so I got hurt in a skateboarding accident.”

“Not an accident.”

“So someone else hurt me while we were skateboarding.”

“Kaoru.”

“Just tell me about skateboarding, it doesn't have to be about the not-an-accident!”

Stuff like that.

But, eventually, Nanjo-san sighed, a sigh that told Kaoru his win had been inevitable, and leaned down. Before he could ask what he was doing, Nanjo-san sat back up with a skateboard in hand. Except… it wasn’t a normal skateboard.

It was black with dulled purple streaks, a C adorning the material; it was sleak, well-made, and Kaoru found he wanted to know everything. “This is your board, Carla.”

“What a fantastic skateboard name.”

Of course you’d say that, he muttered, but handed the board over anyways. 

“Carla, huh?”

“Welcome back, Master.” Came from the board as the purple became far brighter, practically neon now, as the C pulsed. Kaoru himself jumped, eyes wide as he leaned back in. “After a quick health analysis you are not in a fit headspace to understand my technicalities,” she began, and even Nanjo-san seemed surprised by this, watching the board with almost the same fervour as Kaoru was, “Clause fifteen states that in case of severe injury, temporary ownership of Carla is to be given to Nanjo Kojiro, shall I proceed?”

Kaoru heard his cries before he saw them. They weren’t exactly loud, but that was what made him realise — they were quiet, as if Nanjo-san was trying to hold them back or not let Kaoru know he was sobbing again, but it didn’t exactly work. After a few moments of pure crying, they were broken by wet laughs followed by, “Jesus, Kaoru, you never fail to surprise me.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.”

He sniffed, wiped his eyes, and laughed again.

“Kojiro Nanjo, confirmation?”

“Temporary co-ownership would probably be best.” Nanjo-san told her, and she only pulsed once before replying with, okay, and her light dimmed slightly. It dimmed, but it didn’t turn off.

For a moment, Kaoru simply sat there, admiring it. And then, quietly, tentatively, slowly, “Did I build her?”

“You did.” Nanjo-san replied, and just his voice carried such pride that Kaoru almost teared up himself, looking at the board with wonder. “She’s an AI coded board, she can do essentially anything you ask her to, you also have her as a bracelet but you left that at the restaurant,” the restaurant, Kaoru noted but didn’t ask, “I can ask one of the boys to bring it over, they’ve been asking to see you but I insisted you’d prefer them in school than skipping.”

“Do they know?” He found himself asking, knowing somehow that Nanjo-san would understand, still not able to say the words himself. Do they know I don’t remember them?

Nanjo-san coughed again, wiped his eyes again, sighed again, “Not yet, I’m waiting so the doctor can say, soften the blow you know?”

“You really care about them,” Kaoru found himself saying, meaning for it to be a thought but not minding when the words slipped out, his mind far too foggy to sort thoughts and sentences into separate boxes, “Don’t you?”

Nanjo’s smile returned, so soft and so loving and so fond and so saccharine that Kaoru couldn’t ever imagine thinking this man was anything but good. “You’ll get it- you did get it. That’s how I knew they were something special, because you never give more of your time to those who you don’t think are worthy of it.”

“And,” Kaoru started, trying to regain his footing, trying to ignore the fact this man knew him better than he did. Maybe, he thought distantly, he always had. “They skateboard too?”

“Reki’s entire life is skateboarding.” Nanjo started with, sounding tired but still fond, always fond, “He was the one that taught Langa how to skate, and he was the one that taught Miya why to skate.”

“Why?”

“That kid’s always had the pressure of being the best, he stopped enjoying it after a while.”

“And… you?”

“Me?”

“Do you skateboard?”

“Oh, yeah, I thought that was obvious.”

Kaoru scoffed, leaning back in his bed and settling Carla between him and Nanjo, “I don’t even remember who I am, assuming something like that about someone is not the right way to go.”

Nanjo seemed to hesitate here, mouth opening and closing before he resolutely shut it, eyes finding Kaoru’s once more. The next thing he said was more shocking than anything else Kaoru had heard since he’d woken up.

“I’m going to fucking murder that bastard.”

And all Kaoru could do was keep watching, wondering just who had done what to whom and why Nanjo was so hell-bent on murder.

But hey, it wasn’t his place to ask.

He didn’t know the man, after all.

Nanjo left the hospital room a total of three times that day.

The first was to go to the toilet, because, quote-unquote, “I don’t love you enough to willingly piss myself.”

The second was when the doctors wanted to do more tests — an MRI scan, a few blood tests, a few more questions that simply cemented the fact that Kaoru remembered nought. 

The third was after Nanjo got a text, as he tapped his phone on his palm with a thoughtful and unsure look on his face.

“You sure it won’t be too overwhelming?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“You basically just woke up, you remember nothing and no one, these kids are probably going to bring up memories you don’t remember—“

“If it gets too much I’ll just pretend to need sleep.”

“You are so stubborn.”

But Kaoru said nothing else, simply raised an eyebrow at the man at the door, clearly not thinking it was a good idea probably due to doctor’s orders, but Kaoru…

Well, he wanted to meet his family.

Was that too much to ask?

Nanjo spoke of these people as if they meant the world to him, as if they had meant the world to Kaoru, so yes he wanted to meet them.

Eventually, Nanjo sighed and left the room.

For a while.

Every few minutes Kaoru would check the clock, and every few minutes the silence got heavier, and every few minutes he got more worried that this was a bad idea. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much for him, but what about the kids? What about Nanjo?

Did he know them? No. But he used to.

So, when around twenty minutes had passed, Kaoru sighed and said, “Carla?”

“Yes, Master?”

“Do you have records? Like- uh, text messages or calls?”

“I have records of every conversation you have made over all Carla devices, Master, is there any specific conversation you are looking for?”

“Could you—“ he cut himself off, rethinking it, sighing and continuing anyways, “Could you replay the last call made before my accident?”

“The last call made was sent to voicemail. Should I refine my search to only calls or would you like to hear the voicemail?”

“The voicemail, if you would.”

“Okay Master, playing voicemail from Sakurayashki Kaoru outgoing to Nanjo Kojiro.”

He would’ve scoffed at the fact it was to Nanjo if his own voice didn’t come through immediately.

‘Hey Love, I’m coming to Sia la Luce before the tournament tonight, just thought I’d give you a heads up in case you thought you could escape to Crazy Rock early.’ He heard himself say, fidgeting with something on the other side that could’ve been shoes or keys, meaning he was likely already getting ready to leave. ‘Oh, by the way, before I forget, have you heard from Reki at all? Langa was worried about him during tutoring and— yeah, that’s it.’ He heard himself pause, cough, and the next time he spoke was with much less emotion, ‘I’m on my way over, there better be food ready for me.’ And then there was a beep signifying the end of the voicemail.

All Kaoru could do was lie there, repeating the word in his head as if it was on loop.

Love.

That’s what he’d said.

Love.

Nanjo wasn’t just a boyfriend. 

Love.

He—

The door opened then, and Carla powered down as if she knew she shouldn’t speak up with the people shuffling into the room. First was the kid — Miya, he reminded himself — who looked a little annoyed and a little unsure, a handheld under his arm as he glared at Kaoru. Then it was the red-head — Reki — who had tears in his eyes already, lips pressed together as he squeezed his hands at his sides, clearly trying to seem put-together but failing miserably. Then it was the last kid — Langa — who seemed… well like he wasn’t entirely sure where he was, a distant look to his eyes that, when it landed on Kaoru, turned to realisation, as if he finally remembered where he was. The last unfamiliar face was the older man, who was shoving Langa forward — Shadow? Or Hiromi? Which was he meant to address him as? — and seemed a little frazzled but no worse than Reki who was already at Kaoru’s bedside, the one opposite to the one Nanjo had been sitting at since he’d woken up. 

Then Nanjo walked in, seeming much less present than he had all day, likely due to the other people here to take over the shit-show that was the memoryless Sakurayashiki Kaoru.

The first thing said was from Reki.

“Cherry, you are the coolest person ever.” Is what he said, absolutely and utterly sincere, nodding as he pressed his lips together, hands holding the bed so tight his knuckles were white.

“Uh—?”

“That is the first thing I need to remind you of because that doctor guy, I don’t remember his name, said you lost your memory— and, well, that’s pretty upsetting, because now you can’t remember how cool you are.” Reki explained, unable to stop talking but also obviously unsure what to say. Before Kaoru could get another word in, he continued, tears brimming in his eyes still as if he was refusing to let them fall. “You’re one of the coolest skaters I know, because of how effortlessly you do everything, like Joe always says how dumb Carla is and that you should skate normally, but then you wouldn’t be Cherry Blossom, right? Like, if Joe didn’t have his rock-hard abs then he wouldn’t be Joe.”

“If Joe didn’t have his women then he wouldn’t be Joe.” Shadow muttered from behind Reki, and all Kaoru could do was stare, trying to process that.

All he could think to reply was, “Who’s Joe?”

The room fell silent.

“Ah,” it was Nanjo who spoke up this time, and Kaoru turned his attention to him, “That’s my nickname, it’s what the kids call me.”

“Right, yeah, got it.” Kaoru said as if he remembered, which everyone was only now genuinely realising he didn’t.

“Cherry?” It was Miya that spoke up this time, hesitant but speaking as if he wasn’t. “When will you be able to skate again?”

Unsure what exactly to reply, he found himself looking at Nanjo again, who quickly jumped in to respond for him. “The doctor said not for a few months, we aren’t even sure if he’ll remember how to do his moves.”

“Will—“ Miya started, shaking his head, groaning in annoyance, “Will you ever get your memory back?”

This was something that Kaoru hadn’t been filled in on.

So, as if it was habit, as if it was the thing he always did when he didn’t know, he turned to Nanjo Kojiro. 

Hey Love.

He was silent for a few too many seconds for it to mean anything good. “The, um- sorry,” he laughed, blinking rapidly a few times, “The doctors aren’t sure. They’re running a few more tests to see whether it’s temporary or permanent, but even then they said they aren’t sure if it’ll be able to be determined.”

“So…” Reki drifted off, a tear finally rolling down his face, “So he could never remember us?”

Us.

Not me, not you, us. 

As if they were all of equal standing.

“It’s… a possibility.” Nanjo finally said, as if it physically pained him to, sighing as he became boneless in his chair, his hand on his forehead as if the exhaustion had finally hit. 

“That’s crap.” Langa finally said with a shrug, his voice monotone, but despite it Kaoru couldn’t find it in him to be mad. Because it wasn’t that the boy didn’t care, he simply understood.

Because it was crap.

Kaoru couldn’t remember anything, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be sad because he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d forgotten. You can’t miss something you never had.

Or at least can’t remember having.

“Langa!” Reki practically cried out, swivelling on his feet to look the boy dead in the eyes, so shocked his jaw was practically on the floor.

“What? It is crap!”

“The boy’s right,” Kaoru jumped in, waving in Langa’s direction with a smile, “It certainly isn’t great, but there are worse things, and fretting over what could’ve been won’t change what has been.”

“How’s your head?” Langa asked, and then, after tilting his head, “And arm?”

“Not sure, they keep giving me painkillers before it gets too bad.”

“Reki broke his arm the other week.” Langa said absently, pointing at said boy in a way that was almost accusatory. “They gave him a sling.”

“It was only a sprain, I was fine.”

“You were also hit by a car, Reki, that wasn’t fine.”

All Kaoru could wonder was how the kid kept getting hurt.

So, without a second thought, he said, “Carla, check Reki for injuries.”

“Yes, Master, scanning Kyan Reki for injuries.” There was a moment of silence, and then, “Scan complete. Kyan Reki has a sprained wrist and seven bruises. Cause; skateboarding.”

“How do you get hurt so often?” Is what he asked, because there was no point asking if he felt alright. Sprained wrists weren’t exactly the most comfortable thing, as far as Kaoru could remember, which wasn’t a lot. 

“I don’t get hurt that often, it’s just part of the joys of skateboarding.”

“He has no sense of self-preservation.” Langa muffled out around a donut and— wait when did he get a donut? “What’s your favourite food?” Langa asked then, ignoring Reki’s annoyance to, apparently, test Kaoru’s lack of knowledge.

“Not sure.”

“Have you ever been to Canada?”

“Probably.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

That one he could answer. 

But before he could, Nanjo stood up with a sigh, “Visiting hour’s over, go home.”

“What? But we still have—“

“Cherry’s probably really overwhelmed right now, probably best you let him get some rest.”

“I’m fine?”

“Don’t want your parents worrying, Shadow will take you all home.”

“I will?”

“Bye!” Nanjo shouted as he shut the door on them, sighing as he leaned on the door, forehead resting on it like a landline.

All Kaoru could do was watch.

All he could do was note how tall he was, how his hair was messier, how his muscles were pulled taut from stress and how he flexed his hands in and out of a fist in a steady rhythm.

“You’re so weird.” Was what he said instead, not even worrying if it was the right thing to say or not because it was true. He heard an indignant squawk from across the room.

“How are you still insulting me when you don’t remember me?”

“Maybe some people are born to be insulted.” He shot back without hesitance, without having to think about it, as if this was muscle memory and the conversation took less effort. 

Hey Love.

“You are insufferable.”

“And yet you suffer.” 

Nanjo returned to his seat, leaning forward onto the bedsheets with a groan, missing the small smile that tugged at Kaoru’s lips.

“And yet I suffer.”

✮ ✮ ✮

The hospital planned to discharge Kaoru after two weeks.

The general consensus was this; there was a slim chance he could remember a few things, and a slimmer chance he would remember everything, but it was best to not get their hopes up.

Except something Kaoru had learned over those two weeks was that Nanjo Kojiro was a very optimistic man, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Honestly he was surprised that optimism hadn’t ran out yet, considering so far they’d had to see whatever accident Nanjo refused to tell him about, had to deal with a clueless Kaoru, and then find out that there was a chance this was all they would have to work with. Despite everything, Nanjo was at his side every day, sometimes holding his hand and sometimes not, sometimes crying and sometimes not. 

One of those days, just over a week after Kaoru woke up, Nanjo Kojiro was fast asleep. So, Kaoru decided to try something else.

“Hey Carla?”

“Hello, Master.”

“Play me a random incoming voicemail from Nanjo-san.”

“Playing a voicemail from Nanjo Kojiro.”

‘Hey Kaoru,’ his voice came through, and Kaoru shot a glance at the man beside him, fast asleep. Except this voice was far younger than the man’s beside him.

How long had they been calling each other?

Or known each other, would probably be a better question.

Kaoru had avoided that question since his first conversation with Nanjo, for the mere fact that he knew it would be too stark a reality for the man to face. There was still optimism in him, and Kaoru didn’t want to dissolve what was left of it. 

‘I’m sorry about, you know, what happened yesterday. Well— that’s not a good way to put it, I’m not sorry, I meant it, every word.’

Kaoru couldn’t help but furrow his brows, looking at the sleeping and snoring man as if he’d tell him what exactly had transpired. ‘Listen, I— and you can say no, I’d get it, but I’d like to see you one last time before I leave for Italy. Four years is a long time to be away from someone, especially for me to be away from you— sorry, shit, is that too sentimental? Fuck. I just— I’m so bad at this — I want to say goodbye, properly. Not goodbye forever, I’ll be back, but you’re the only person I want to see before I go. Yep, okay, cool.’

And then it ended.

Four years? Italy? What happened?

“Carla? When was that voicemail from?”

“Incoming voicemail from Nanjo Kojiro dated eight years and eleven months ago.”

Eight years? And they were already good friends by the sound of it. 

“Carla, play the first voicemail I received from Kojiro Nanjo.”

“Yes, Master.”

‘Hey man! This is Kojiro from class, listen no pressure to reply but I’m pretty sure we knew each other a few years ago? Haruka gave me your number, and I know it’s a long shot but I wondered if you wanted to study with me? You’re better at written Japanese than I am, and— yeah. I’m rambling, aren’t I?’ There was a laugh then, it was nervous and cautious and so fond all over again that Kaoru wondered how he’d never run out of the emotion. ‘Again, no pressure to reply, I just thought I’d give it a shot you know? Have a nice night!’

And that was that. 

“And how long ago was that one, Carla?”

“Eleven years and ten months ago, Master.”

“Eleven years…” Kaoru drifted off, wondering when exactly they’d gotten together, wondering how long they’d liked each other for— loved each other for. Not to mention the fact that apparently they knew each other even earlier, but obviously had no means of contact. 

All those years of learning about Nanjo Kojiro just to… what, forget them?

Every small, significant thing about him, every memory, every subtle touch, every side-glance, every argument, every kiss.

For what?

What was it worth if he couldn’t remember it?

“Kaoru?” Nanjo asked as he sat up, rubbing his eyes, his voice deep and scratchy from sleep. “Your thinking woke me up, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s fine, go back to sleep.” 

A couple days later, Langa had visited, books in hand and skateboard left propped up by the door. As much as Kaoru had very little memory, he knew that was no ordinary board, much like his own. 

“Is that a custom board?” Kaoru asked, watching Langa sit on the end of the bed, notebooks in his lap as he immediately grinned, brightening, all of a sudden seeming the most present Kaoru had seen him the entire time he’d known him.

“Reki made it for me!” Was his reply, his smile so giddy and childish it seemed almost nostalgic, or something close to it. “He’s awesome, he makes boards for people to buy, and for friends, he promised Miya he’d make him one for his competitions, and is always making adjustments on mine.” Then, almost as if it was an after-thought (almost, it seemed like his every thought was Reki considering that kid was the only topic Langa was ever present for) he said, “He painted it too.”

Kaoru looked back at the blue board, the white yeti looking back at him, the word FUN painted across it in bright orange, an English word but that made sense considering Nanjo had said the boy was Canadian, if his accent wasn’t telling already. Honestly, Kaoru couldn’t remember being fluent in English, or learning the language at all, but he could read the word just fine. 

“Do you get to speak much English now? Since you moved over here?” Kaoru found himself asking in English, noting the shocked look on the boy’s face, obviously not having known he spoke English.

Well, that’s what he thought anywho.

“You don’t speak English.” Is what he said, eyes squinting as if trying to call a bluff.

“I quite obviously do.”

“No, I asked you before if you could and you said no, and I’ve accidentally spoken it around you during tutoring and you couldn’t understand a word I said.”

“Maybe I lied.”

“No, you don’t lie.” Is what Langa replied with, shaking his head, so confident in his words that Kaoru suddenly believed them. “Sometimes you just avoid telling the truth.” Back to Japanese. Then, his smile returned to its normal level, and he waved his books around. “I’ve got a test coming up and Reki refused to help me; Joe said I shouldn’t bother you but you’re the only teacher that ever actually taught me anything.”

“Is that so?”

“Everyone else has dumb ways of teaching.” Was his response, his nose scrunching up as if he was disgusted by the simple thought of other people’s teaching styles.

“I can try to help, but no guarantee.”

“Thanks Cherry!”

On discharge day, Kaoru woke up to the door opening and Nanjo walking in with a wheelchair, the same black and purple as Carla. 

“Is that…?”

“A Carla wheelchair? Yes, it is.” He sounded as if he could hardly believe it himself. “Apparently you were prepared for every possible outcome, I also found Carla headphones and a Carla TV remote.” He wheeled it to the side of the bed, arms flailing around as he tried to figure out what to do. Usually, a nurse would help Kaoru into his wheelchair to use the toilet or to go on walks (wheels) around the hospital grounds or to visit the cafeteria, but Nanjo had insisted he help Kaoru into the special wheelchair, because ‘Sakurayashiki-san wouldn’t want anyone else handling it.’

So there he was, flailing around, unsure what to do.

“Why don’t you just pick me up?” Kaoru sighed, a little annoyed he had to be the one to point out the man’s frankly disgustingly large muscles. Except he was met with wide eyes and an open mouth. “What?”

“No— nothing, just— I wasn’t sure if you’d want me carrying you.”

“You don’t seem like you’d drop me.”

“Never.” No hesitation, an immediate response weighted with such certainty that Kaoru knew he could ask to be carried forever and his wish would be fulfilled. So, like a child, Kaoru reached out his arms, letting Nanjo pick him up via his knees and his back, bridal style, as he wrapped his arms around his neck. The safest response to this would be for Kaoru to cling on for dear life and hope he wasn’t dropped, but he didn’t even bother fretting. The hold was solid, and there was something about it that told him he was safe.

Then he was in his chair, Carla lighting up under his touch.

“Carla?”

“Yes, Master?”

“What’s the top speed this chair can go?”

Nanjo went wide-eyed.

“Kaoru—“

“Approximately twenty kilometres an hour, Master.”

Kaoru grinned, Nanjo practically cried.

The first place they went outside of the hospital was a restaurant called Sia la Luce, and the only thought in Kaoru’s head at that moment was ‘Hey Love, I’m coming to Sia la Luce before the tournament tonight.’ “What’s this place?”

“This is my restaurant.” Nanjo explained, opening the front door and wheeling him in.

The smell of food immediately hit him. Good food, too. 

“Thankfully my sous chef has been in training for a while now so she can open a restaurant of her own, so she’s been able to take over while I’ve been with you.” He explained, taking the chair up to the counter before slipping behind it, instinctively grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses. “And thankfully I’m not working today, and you’re allowed small doses of alcohol, so we can have a glass of wine to celebrate your return to the living world.”

“You’re saying that as if this place is any better than the hospital.” Kaoru muttered, not meaning it but having realised, over the past two weeks, that Nanjo Kojiro responds better to banter than honesty. And honestly? It felt more comfortable for him, too. Easier. 

“Are you disrespecting the restaurant in front of the head chef?”

“And if I was?”

“Then I’d drink your glass of wine.” He said, handing it over despite his words, beginning to sip his own. Only then did the conversation lull into silence, but it was oddly comfortable. The sounds of the busy restaurant around them, the dinging of bells in the kitchen, the smell of food wafting from said kitchen, the warmth from the ovens and candles.

It was only when he glanced at a menu placed nearby that he realised something.

This was all Italian cuisine.

He wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for the subtle flag in the corner, practically a splodge of colour, but it was there all the same.

“So that’s why you went to Italy.” He muttered, not entirely meaning to say it out loud, not entirely noticing how Nanjo’s head snapped to him, eyes wide, mouth agape.

“Sorry?”

“Shit, did I say that out loud?”

“Did you remember something?” He asked, and— well Kaoru almost said yes. He almost said yes because the hope in his eyes had tripled and there was something else matching it with the tears gathering on his waterline, so he wanted to say yes I did I remember you going away to University in Italy, I remember us having a conversation the day before, what was that conversation again?

But instead, he said, “No,” and that hope disappeared, whisked away with the quietly spoken syllables that would be silent to ears that weren’t listening.

Kaoru was sure Kojiro was always listening out for him.

“I had Carla play me a few voicemails, in the hospital, while you were asleep.” He admitted, fiddling with his glass as he sipped it again, savouring the taste, dodging the gaze on him. “There was one about you going to Italy for four years and I wasn’t sure what that was about—“

“Oh, that one.” Nanjo responded, taking another swig of wine as if he needed it, as if he’d die without it. “You did end up seeing me off, with my mum, and she drove you home.”

I meant it, every word.

“How was it? Italy?”

“Very pretty, I stayed with my uncle in Verona, then stayed alone in Florence during the summers.” He explained, eyes now on the wine in his glass as he moved it in repetitive circles, working air into it, obviously thinking about something as he did so. “You got a new phone after a year and we lost contact.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You want some food?” He asked after a moment, finishing his wine with an exhale.

“Are you offering?”

“Maybe it’ll remind you of how awesome I am.” 

“If you have to tell someone you’re awesome, you’re not awesome.”

Nanjo rolled his eyes but didn’t reply, heading off into the kitchen without even asking what Kaoru wanted. Maybe because he knew the answer. Maybe because he knew that Kaoru didn’t know what any of it was, not remembering having tried them, unsure which was his go-to. 

But Kojiro knew, and he didn’t ask, and half an hour of waiting and half sleeping and half eavesdropping had Nanjo Kojiro walking back out, his apron tied around his figure as he carried a plate of some kind of pasta. 

Wordlessly, he placed it in front of him, with a fork and a glass of water and anticipation painted across his features.

“What’s this?”

“Carbonara.” He replied, something more curious now flitting across his face. So, equally wordlessly, Kaoru twirled the pasta around his fork and tried a bite.

His first thought was wondering how he’d gone his entire life without this.

His second was the fact he probably hadn’t.

“Fuck me.” He murmured around his food, not even worrying if he was being polite enough as he took another forkful, groaning with absolute and utter joy. Kojiro’s soft smile and teary eyes were just another positive. 

“Good?”

“No it’s terrible.” He said as he swallowed it, immediately shovelling more into his mouth, ignoring Kojiro’s laugh and the shake of his head, the disbelief written in the very lines in his face and the shake of his hands and the tears now falling down his face. Of course Kaoru wanted to console him, but also his food was really good and he didn’t want to bother with reheating it. 

Thankfully, Kojiro explained it before he even had a chance to ask. “You reacted the exact same when you first tried it years ago— which was a big thing for me, you never got expressive, so it was a bit of a shellshock, I guess.”

“That’s really interesting.”

He perked up at this, eyes wide, tears practically pausing on his face.

“It is?”

“That memory loss makes you react to things the same as you did. I wonder how far it goes, for example if I would respond the same way to a question or make the same choice in a difficult deliberation.”

“I think,” Kojiro started, wiping his eyes quickly, used to it now after two weeks of it, voice level once more as he hummed in thought, brown eyes facing the ceiling as he tapped the counter, his spare hand resting on his cocked out hip with his hair cleaner than it was when Kaoru had woken up, “That it wouldn’t be the exact same.”

“How so?”

“Well— think about it this way,” he started, meeting Kaoru’s eyes again with a smirk, “You have nature and nurture, your nature makes you respond with fight or flight, whereas your nurture often influences other decisions and actions, right?”

“I guess that’s one way to put it, yes.”

“But you have no nurture. You have no memory of anything that could’ve influenced your old responses.”

“What if those memories are still there? What if they are still subconsciously influencing my every word and thought and action?”

“Then I’d tell the doctor with confidence that you could get your memories back.”

They fell silent, levelling each other with a steady look, daring for disagreement or to retract the statement. It didn’t imply much, just that Kojiro didn’t know enough about the human mind to tell the doctor they were wrong, but it made something ugly stir in Kaoru’s gut.

Something ugly, yes, but something else, something brighter, something that had taken form as a muscular man with scruffy green hair and the softest glances and touches and words.

Hope.

Had he only just left the hospital? Yes. 

But he could see Carla charging in the corner of the room, and he wondered if there was a way to bring those memories back. No, he hoped there was a way to bring those memories back. 

Not remembering was crap, yes, and he had nothing to miss, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t want, couldn’t yearn. It was a different emotion than grief, but not far from it.

And looking at Kojiro, in his apron with a fond smile that Kaoru was only just beginning to get familiar with, he found himself wanting to remember.

“Kojiro?”

The man practically jumped at that, eyes wide again, stuttering out a vague what?

“How did we meet?”

That shocked look melted into that same mix of nostalgia and sadness he tended to wear too often, happy to remember and sad Kaoru couldn’t, and Kojiro sighed, taking a forkful of Kaoru’s carbonara as he thought.

“Well, how didn’t we meet?” He laughed out eventually, mouth half full, and Kaoru couldn’t help but tsk.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s—“

“Rude, I know.” He finished with a held up hand, and Kaoru closed his own mouth, stealing the fork back to finish his food before it went cold. 

Kojiro continued. “The first time we met was in kindergarten, which even I don’t remember, but mom said we were inseparable.” He tapped his chin, thoughtful again. “Then we met again a few years later in fourth grade, when you moved to my school, but you left again the next year.” He grinned then, leaning his chin on both palms, looking the perfect picture of a giddy schoolboy. “And then we went to the same highschool, for a full three years.” 

“Bet you were a dick in highschool.” Kaoru commented absentmindedly between bites, accidentally meeting Kojiro’s smug gaze, all too knowing as he smirked.

“And why do you say that?” He asked in a low tone, the closest he’d been to Kaoru yet, and he honestly had no choice but to shove another forkful of carbonara in his mouth, preferring to compliment the man’s food than anything else. Whatever relationship they were in be damned, Kaoru was not going to give him the satisfaction.

After the quiet stretched on a little too long, Kaoru found his thoughts drifting again. Following the last conversation because it had nothing else better to follow.

Listen, Kaoru had noticed the man’s looks the moment he woke up, he was visually impaired not blind, and if they were in a relationship then this wasn’t a newfound thing. Not to mention it was obvious that Kojiro knew he was attractive, but he hardly mentioned it— except ‘If Joe didn’t have his rock-hard abs then he wouldn’t be Joe’, is what Reki had said. So maybe he did flaunt it? Perhaps when skateboarding? Did he just not wear a shirt? Whatever, it didn’t matter, because the point was he had flirted with him as if he found him attractive, and wasn’t that a thought?

But he must, right? Why was this only a realisation he was having now? Surely if they were in a relationship the feeling was reciprocated?

Or, possibly, in some far-off part of his brain that had been reopened from its weakness he knew that Kojiro was the kind of person to jump from one person to the next. Maybe he was temporary, or at least thought so.

Something about his eyes said differently, but the thought still lingered, insistent and ever-present and such an annoyance he didn’t even realise he’d finished his food and zoned out until someone was tapping his arm and his bowl was being taken away. “Hey, Kaoru, you good?”

And Kaoru looked up, saw those brown eyes shining with concern and sadness and fondness and curiosity and hope, and all he could manage was a nod, knowing that if he spoke only his thoughts would come out.

Are you going to leave me because I don’t remember ever loving you?

Or maybe his thoughts were more along the lines of you should.

And that fierce hope was back.

Maybe, if he remembered everything, they would be okay.

“Kojiro, we’re going skating first thing tomorrow.”

“You’re in a wheelchair.”

They didn’t go skating the next day, but that didn’t mean Kaoru didn’t try. 

“Stop trying to stand you absolute dimwit.”

“I want to see how many tricks I can remember.”

“You can’t even remember how to stand!”

“Oh come on you’re so dramatic, would you like a medal? May I remind you that I can't stand due to injuries?”

“Injuries from skateboarding, we can skate when you can walk.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge.”

“Get back in your wheelchair, Kaoru!”

“I’ll do what I want you gorilla!”

And then Kojiro went and cried. Again. Honestly, Kaoru was becoming numb to it. But he did sit back down, reluctantly, hoping it would make the man stop sobbing like someone had murdered his family—

Wait.

Maybe that was the problem. 

“Kojiro?” He asked, unable to stop saying his name now that he’d said it, liking the way it sounded in his mouth, knowing Nanjo was too formal for what they were, even without his memory. Kojiro was the one that sat by his side every moment in the hospital, ordered better food, made sure the kids visited only when they needed to, gave him water when he asked, answered all the questions he was permitted to answer. 

“Yeah?” He asked, as if on instinct, as if he had nothing else to say, no answer to deny. 

“How long have we been together?”

And he fell quiet, unsure but not unwilling.

“A few months.” Was what he replied with, and somehow that confused him, because if they’d known eachother since kindergarten, why did they only just get together? Was it convenience? Did they only grow feelings later on in their friendship?

“Really?” He asked, unable to stop his shock seeping into it, and it was worth it for Kojiro’s grin, as if he agreed with the shock.

“Yeah, really.”

“But when— what—“

“God this conversation was so difficult, I was glad not to have to do it a second time, oh how naïve I was.” He sighed out, but still straightened where he stood, as if he needed to physically prepare himself to explain it again. “I think I always loved you, but I only realised around the second year of highschool—“

“Only?” Kaoru couldn’t help but interrupt, throwing hand out to stop him, “That was ten years ago!”

“And apparently you realised you loved me when you realised you couldn’t live without me, when I was away in Italy.” 

“We seriously took seven years to say anything?”

“I always worried that the friendship would be ruined.” Kojiro explained as if it was that simple, as if that excused up to ten years of dancing around each other, not wanting to unsettle the calm truce they’d formed, the comfortable trust and understanding. “And you… well you never explained it properly to me.”

“I didn’t?”

“Something along the lines of the fact you assumed you would’ve known if I liked you, like you expected rejection so didn’t even entertain the idea.” He explained off-handedly, saying it as if it was a stupid thing to think.

Except… it had been one of Kaoru’s first thoughts when he’d first woken up, one of his current first memories. It wasn’t a far-fetched idea at all, the fact that Nanjo Kojiro would never go for Sakurayashiki Kaoru. Why did he think that way? Many reasons, really. And Kaoru would be lying if he said he wasn’t still thinking it, thinking about the fact Kojiro was bound to leave any moment, that Kaoru was no longer enough for him if he couldn’t even love him.

The silence must’ve been telling enough.

“Kaoru?”

He sighed, leaned his head back, and ordered Carla to take him into the bedroom. His hair was messy, and he’d be damned if he went outside with that bird’s nest on his head.

And if he felt Kojiro’s eyes on him, he didn’t let it show.

✮ ✮ ✮

Showering on his own for the first time was bittersweet. The first thing he noticed when he took off his clothes was the tattoo on his shoulder, not having time to have seen it beforehand due to rushing into the bath for some semblance of privacy; it was a moon, perfectly circular on his right shoulder, not too big to peek out of his clothing but not too small to be unnoticable. In fact, Kaoru knew it was the exact kind of tattoo he would go for, considering he was rather sure he had none elsewhere.

Which only had him turning around and seeing the cherry blossom tattoo across his lower back, once again able to hide under clothing but beautiful despite its size, winding over his back dimples in a way that seemed almost natural. 

When standing started to become a little too difficult, he made his way to the shower, seating himself on the ledge Kojiro had fitted the week before. Only to regain his strength of course, he felt he had too much dignity left to be wasting it showering sitting down. 

Standing was a lot of effort in itself, let alone walking. So much effort, in fact, that Kojiro had to wash Kaoru for almost two weeks before he could manage to stand long enough to shower and not fall over when bending down. Even then, Kojiro insisted on washing his hair, and, well, listen, Kaoru would never admit this even when held at gunpoint, but it felt nice. Not just the hands massaging shampoo into his scalp, slowly but surely working the grease and dirt out, but the fact someone was willing to care for him even when he couldn’t exactly remember why he was caring for him.

Oh, that was another thing; this memory loss thing was proving to be a real bitch.

Not only did some of the things Kaoru say make Kojiro burst into tears every now and then (certain insults, quiet comments, things like that), but there was also the fact that he didn’t know anything. He’d be sat watching a video on his Carla-coded phone, for example of Paris, and he would say “Hey Kojiro, have you ever wanted to go to Paris?” And he would say, “We’ve already been.”

And again with the we, always the we, as if Kojiro wasn’t his own person but he was now half of one. 

And then he’d go onto a skating video that Reki had sent him, and it would be of him pulling off a trick with such ease, no bandages or wheelchair in sight, and he would hear Reki’s quiet oo’s and ah’s and wish he could do that again, but he wasn’t entirely sure why or how. 

And then he’d get an email through from a customer, because apparently he was a renowned calligrapher, and he would have to decline and say he wasn’t fit for taking commissions at the moment but to email again in two months if they were still interested. 

Not remembering was tiring and boring and Kaoru wanted to remember. 

So, once he learned how to walk after weeks of brutal therapy and forcing himself out of his chair in Kojiro’s apartment and bathing a lot, the very first place he walked was straight to Kojiro. The shock was evident, but Kaoru didn’t even hesitate to point a finger right in front of his face, scowl, and say, “Take me on a date.”

“I— what?”

“What, are you deaf? I said take me on a date.”

“But— I don’t— you don’t—“

“Stop making up excuses I know you want to.”

“I want to kiss you too but that doesn’t mean I will.” 

“Maybe if the date is good enough you’ll convince me.”

If that stung, Kojiro didn’t show it, scoffing and leaning onto the finger still pressed near his face so it was against his cheek, his smirk so sharp Kaoru was worried it would split his skin.

“Is that a challenge, four-eyes?”

Kaoru cackled, grin sharpening as he leaned in even further, so close he could feel Kojiro’s breath on his skin. “Do you accept?”

“Well, no one can beat me in skateboarding—“

“No, no one is yet to, you oaf, is there a brain in that big head of yours?”

“Whatever, I’m undefeated, I bet I can cross the finish line with a five second lead.”

“You’re ambitious, or maybe it’s your idiocy.”

“Oh you’re on, princess.”

Kaoru had won with a six second lead.

Admittedly, most of the race was close, and Kojiro did gain the lead multiple times, but Kaoru had always had the mindset of ‘if you know there’s a possibility you could lose, you have a better chance to win’, because you know you have to perform at your very best to have a shot. And when Kojiro had crossed the finish line, he had beads of sweat along his forehead and gathering in his armpits and down his back as usual.

Except this time he didn’t hesitate to pull his t-shirt off.

“Kojiro!”

The boy immediately caught on, smirking behind him with a wink. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, princess.”

And it wasn’t. They’d changed plenty of times in front of each other in school, this wasn’t anything new. But he’d been on some new training regimen recently and what was once simply a chiselled stomach now had the hint of abs coming in, and Kaoru had to tug his eyes away with an unimpressed frown and a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing’s stopping you from joining me, you wimp.”

“Everything is stopping me, actually. Namely how hideous you look half naked.”

“Trust me the ladies will love it.”

Strategically, Kaoru hopped on his board and ignored the tug on his heart as he always did, because who knew what it was and Kaoru certainly had no time to worry over it. He’d get over it eventually. But then he’d looked back at Kojiro, as he skated just a second behind and wiped the sweat from his forehead, a content smile on his face as he huffed out a laugh, his gorgeous chestnut eyes glimmering in the setting sun as his smile lit up the world around him, even if only slightly, not to mention—

Kaoru turned back around to hide his wide eyes.

He was in love with his best friend.

Oh god.

“Kaoru?”

Kaoru blinked, Kojiro’s face directly in front of his own, and there it was.

Faint, hardly noticeable if you weren’t looking for it, but something tugged on his heart, something that made meeting those eyes as equally challenging as it was easy.

“There you are, hey.” He smiled, his expression unbelievably kind despite the curiosity lingering in those eyes. “Lost you for a moment there.”

“Your restaurant is closed on Sundays, so we’ll go out then.”

“This Sunday?”

“I thought that was obvious?”

“I— yeah, I guess, I just—“

“Great, better have something good enough planned for this Sunday then.” Kaoru finished before turning on his heel and walking back to the bedroom, letting out a breath the moment the door was shut behind him. Only so he could smile freely, because he definitely shouldn’t be so giddy over going on a date with someone he is technically already dating, but he was. 

Despite everything, a feeling fluttered in his chest that felt familiar, that felt like it had all those years ago, and a feeling he wasn’t as willing to pin as love. It was too early for that—

But was it?

Sure he’d only known Kojiro for six weeks or so, but he’d also known him his whole life.

Maybe there was no way to tell when he should be feeling what. All Kaoru knew was that he had a date and that made him happy. 

Kojiro knocked on the bedroom door at 5pm on the dot. “Can I come in?” He called, and Kaoru simply hummed back permission, finishing off the second french braid as the door opened. 

Silence met him.

After he’d tied the end of it, Kaoru turned to the door, immediately committing Kojiro’s outfit to memory — the black ripped jeans, the pink collared shirt, the black tie, hair pulled back into a low ponytail with the subtlest eyeliner along his waterlines — as he thought of what exactly to say. 

Thankfully, Kojiro beat him to it.

“You look beautiful.” He practically whispered as he gaped, and Kaoru was barely able to keep his embarrassed flush under control, turning back to the mirror to place a flower pin in his hair, black to match his own outfit — a sleeveless and backless black turtleneck with matching armbands that carried from his wrists to his elbows, skin-tight black jeans, a pink belt to accent his hair with pink-laced black boots. He, too, had makeup on, but his eyeliner was more obvious, more sharp, and he even had some concealer on to make his eyebags look less worrying.

“What’s new?” Kaoru muttered, tucking a few stray hairs behind his ears before standing, making his way towards Kojiro who was still blocking the doorway. 

“I didn’t— I just—“

“You look rather handsome yourself. Now, let’s go before we’re late.” Kaoru huffed out in reply, shoving the man by his shoulder to be able to get past, trying his best to ignore the stuttering behind him but being unable to stop his smile, confident Kojiro would follow. Not to mention the fact that Kaoru could pretty confidently walk now, even Kojiro had been shocked how quickly he’d retaught himself, but the only issues with it before had been the pain, which was lessening over the days, and as long as he took his medication it would turn out fine. 

And now Kojiro had no excuse to not let him start skateboarding again.

He hoped they could do it some time in the next week.

“Right, let’s go.” Kojiro finally managed out, putting his shoes on at the door before grabbing two helmets, one green the other pink, and handed the pink one to Kaoru. “We’re taking my bike, it’ll be quicker and give your legs a rest.”

“Sure,” Kaoru laughed, placing the helmet on and opening the plastic screen so it wouldn’t cover his whole face, “That’s why.”

Somehow, Kojiro managed to only roll his eyes before ushering Kaoru out of the apartment, locking the door behind them and heading towards the bike, keeping his hand on Kaoru’s lower back the entire time. It felt… safe, almost, and it boosted his confidence that little bit more to know he had Kojiro’s support the whole night.

Because to him this felt like a first date with a man he had a feeling wasn’t just a stranger anymore, nor a friend that had selflessly helped him during his recovery, but something more.

Or had the capability of becoming something more.

And all he could think about during the ride over to wherever they were going was that smirk, that wink, that small tug on his heart that felt more familiar than new. A confirmation that he’d been someone, and that someone had been in love with Nanjo Kojiro. 

Despite everything, when Kaoru sat on the back of the bike with his arms wound tight around Kojiro’s torso, the faint smell of his cologne making its way under Kaoru’s helmet, he found himself hoping. Sure, one memory didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, in fact it only proved one thing and that was that Kaoru would always be in love with Nanjo Kojiro, no matter how many times he lost his entire identity he would always end up back where he’d started with that harsh tug on his heart; that’s why he hoped, in the end.

Because yes, there was a chance he could get his memories back, but there was also the opportunity of falling in love with Nanjo Kojiro all over again.

Kaoru could sit there and deny it would ever happen. Kaoru could sit there and say it was just a crush, that it would go away eventually, that Kojiro could do better than him. 

But those thoughts felt more like echoes than blossoming flowers, as if they’d been on rotation in his now-empty mind for some time and were simply breaking out of hibernation. 

The bike turning off broke him out of his thoughts, blinking them away as he slowly took his helmet off, finding themselves in the middle of nowhere.

“Where are we?” He found himself asking, climbing off the bike to look around a little easier. He was right, they were in the middle of nowhere. They’d parked in a remote parking lot beside a river, a path along the edge of it that seemed to go into a forest lit only by a few lanterns. Birds could be heard all around, and Kaoru was about ninety percent sure there were foxes in the forest, but it seemed… nice. Calming.

“We are somewhere that used to mean a lot to you.” Was what Kojiro responded with, placing his helmet beside Kaoru’s on the bike before heading towards him, offering an elbow which Kaoru took a hold of without a second thought. They began walking down the path, the water running quietly beside them as a bat flew overhead.

Yeah, Kaoru could feel how much he loved this place. 

“When you were younger, and your parents were too much, and you demanded you wanted to be alone, you would come here.” Kojiro continued, motioning to go right at the fork in the path, taking them away from the river and further into the forest. All Kaoru could do was quietly follow, taking in the scenery around him, the feel of Kojiro’s arm in his hands, the comfort of having a body beside him.

The comfort of having Kojiro beside him.

“It took a while for me to figure out why, I always ended up getting lost in the forest, and you always ended up finding me and dragging me back home.”

“I dragged you?”

“Hey! I didn’t always have rock-hard abs!” Kojiro quietly yelled back, nudging Kaoru with his elbow and a cheeky grin. “Plus, you’ve always been stronger than you look.”

“Is that so?”

“I think all the food and lack of exercise has set you back a little though.” Kojiro returned with a shrug, only then earning a kick in the shin, to which he winced as he laughed. “Not as much as I thought, then.”

“Damn right.”

They walked in the quiet from then on, Kojiro guiding them through the forest, pointing out birds in the trees and animals in the brambles, only breaking the quiet to tell small stories relating to everything there. A berry bush that Kaoru told Kojiro not to eat from, of which he took as a challenge and did so, then they had to go to the hospital to get his stomach pumped, for example. Or about the time that Kaoru had demanded he found the perfect tree to climb and almost tugged Kojiro the entire way up until they were peeking over the leaves onto the horizon. 

They’d walked for so long that Kaoru began to wonder if this was the date planned, which he found himself rather content with; just some quiet time to talk and tell stories and feel comfortable for the first time in weeks. 

But then Kaoru noticed an opening, paved with tarmac and ramps dotted across the place, railings, dips in the ground, steps—

“Stop it.”

“Wh—“

“Kojiro! You brought me to skate!” Kaoru immediately found himself yelling, hitting his shoulders with a sharp grin, scaring a flock of birds out of the trees but he didn’t care because there were three bags on top of one of the halfpipes, two skateboard shaped and one he recognised as Carla’s. “You actually did it!”

“Well,” Kojiro started with a light laugh, the sound so beautiful Kaoru believed he could listen to it all day without pause, “It’s all you’ve talked about, and I thought it would be the best birthday present I could give you.”

And Kaoru paused.

“What?” He asked, because he must have misunderstood, because surely it wasn’t— “My birthday?”

Kojiro grinned and tugged Kaoru by the hand to the ramp with the bags, pulling out a cake, candles, and a lighter, placing the candles in very carefully before lighting each one, then finally turning around, the warmest smile on his face. “Happy twenty-eighth birthday, Kaoru.” He said, holding out the cake so Kaoru could blow out the candles with ease. And, upon noticing his gaping mouth, said, “Make a wish.”

And Kaoru thought, as he blew out the candles, he wanted nothing more than to be able to keep this.

He didn’t care if he got his memories back, because if he had Kojiro none of that mattered.

Because the man placed the cake down, hopped onto the ramp and patted the space beside him, cutting two slices of cake (one significantly bigger than the other) before handing one to the man now beside him, happy to sit and eat in the quiet again. It was nice, sitting in the quiet. 

Usually.

But cake half-eaten with Carla’s bag beside him, Kaoru felt nothing but restless.

He wanted to see how much he could recall, how much he could still do, if he could do it at all or if he’d have to reteach himself.

So, wordlessly, he placed his half-eaten cake down, took the bag, and retrieved Carla from it, noting how she was fully charged with a small smile.

“Carla?” Only then did Kojiro seem to notice he’d picked her up, coming back to with wide eyes but not reaching to take her back.

Kaoru didn’t miss the absolute fear in his eyes though.

“Yes, Master?”

“How many different types of board do you have?”

“I can take many forms, such as a cruise board, a regular street board, and a longboard,” Kaoru was a little concerned he didn’t know what most of those meant, but he assumed the street board was the one used in the skateboarding he’d seen the kids doing. “I also have beginner mode, excel mode, and master mode. Additionally, I have high-speed mode, normal speed, and low-speed mode. Which would you like to start with?”

“Excel mode, normal speed.” Kojiro cut in, and Kaoru noticed how it took her longer to process Kojiro’s words than his own, as if she was evaluating whether to actually listen to him or not. Because of course she did. 

“Okay, excel mode and normal speed activated.”

And the light dimmed, leaving Kaoru with Carla and far too many emotions drumming through his veins. It was after a moment of simply staring at her that he finally hopped down onto solid ground, placing her down and landing a foot on top of her, the feel of the moving wheels beneath him equally as new as it was old. Thankfully, Kojiro wasn’t far behind, offering a steady hand and a supportive smile. “Here if you need me, princess.”

Wisely, Kaoru whacked his hand away and stood on the board, surprised when it didn’t fly out beneath him.

Odd.

Reki had shown him the videos of when Langa had first started skating, videos he claimed to have not shown him even before the not-an-accident, and they’d been giggling the entire way through at how many times he fell over; the unsure Langa then was drastically different to the heavily confident Langa now, the boy Kojiro claimed to be the best.

And Kaoru was just… standing on the board with no problem.

“Huh.” Is what he said, and when he turned to look at Kojiro he seemed equally as stunned.

“I didn’t expect that.”

“Wow, thanks for having faith in me, you oaf. I feel really supported right now.”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

All Kaoru could reply with was a laugh, louder than his usual ones nowadays, causing him to wobble a little. Before he could even fear falling, a hand was resting on his lower back, supportive and loving and everything Kaoru never knew he needed and oh god there was that damn feeling again. 

That damn tug, that fullness that felt so strong it was sickening and ever-lasting, and Kaoru hated how much he loved it.

Because in his mind he’d only known Kojiro, what, two months? 

But here he was, trying to convince himself it wasn’t anything more than a crush.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered then, and Kaoru’s heart practically melted. 

His voice was so sweet, his eyes sparkling and stunning, his smile shining.

“I know.” Was all Kaoru could manage in reply, practically squeaked out from his overflowing emotions, and then it was Kojiro’s turn to crack, his eyes tearing up in a way he couldn’t hide, especially with the proximity. He’d started doing that in recent days, hiding his tears. 

Maybe he thought they were getting old, maybe he didn’t want Kaoru seeing him weak. 

It was that thought that had Kaoru kicking off of the floor, away from the supportive arm and teary eyes and prying words that were constantly tugging at his heart in such a subtly changing way that it was difficult to notice at first (and now impossible to miss). It was those things that had Kaoru’s wheels rolling across the tarmac, the sound of it in his ears familiar, the feel of the wind whipping his hair around familiar, the smile splitting across his face familiar. 

Everything about this— he knew this. 

He turned, and it was easy, like riding a bike.

He kicked again, and again, going a little faster, almost speeding in circles as eyes tracked his every movement, hands nervously dancing across his own board, and Kaoru couldn’t help but think this is familiar, I know this. 

And he did.

He did know it, he could feel it, just as well as he knew that he’d been someone once, that he loved this place, that he loved Kojiro.

It was as he was flying up a ramp that his mind came to a screeching halt.

Or something rather the opposite.

Kaoru had started learning how to skate when he was nine. He found a battered board on the side of the road and decided to give it a go, only for ten-year-old Kojiro to find him face-down on the pavement, his own battered skateboard in hand as he giggled.

“What.”

“Nothing, you’re just the smartest person in our class, I thought you’d pick it up easier.”

“It’s like standing on nothing! It keeps rolling out under me!”

“You have to balance in the middle of it.”

“What?”

“They always say to find your ‘centre of gravity’, whatever that is, so you stay stood up.” Kojiro explained, offering a hand and a dashing smile. Kaoru just frowned. “I’ll lend you a hand, I can teach you too if you want—“

“No, not happening.”

“Why not?” Kojiro asked then, frowning as he waved the hand again, obviously realising the longer he stood there the more likely Kaoru was to actually take the offer. “I’m the best skater our age, I’d be the best teacher ever.”

“You’re too dumb to successfully teach me anything.”

“What does successfully mean?”

“Exactly.” Kaoru huffed out, standing with the board in hand before brushing down his clothes, ignoring the hurt look that flashed across the other boy’s face. He didn’t have the time or patience for whatever fake kindness this was today, he just wanted to get home before the sun set and his parents had a reason to shout at him. Because, and this was the main reason for his hostility, Kojiro was popular, and Kaoru was decidedly not; when those kids were this nice to him, it typically meant they were mocking him or talking bad about him behind his back, and as much as he wanted to have faith…

Well, Kojiro didn’t seem like the type of person to be completely well-meaning through and through. 

“I can learn perfectly fine by myself thank you, now get home before you get told off.”

“My parents let me skate in the evening,” Kojiro replied with, settling his board onto the floor before immediately hopping onto it, horrifically steady on it as he kicked off, circling a certain pink-haired boy that was getting angrier by the second, “I’d be happy to help, I’ve been meaning to find an excuse to talk to you.”

“… you what?”

“Well, you’re really cool,” Kojiro admitted as if it was the simplest thing, shrugging before coming to a complete stop, his grin so utterly proud Kaoru wasn’t sure whether to believe the words leaving his mouth or not. Except he sounded so sure, so sincere, so utterly happy that he couldn’t help but want to believe it. “All my friends aren’t nice, and it gets tiring, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” Kaoru scoffed out, kicking at the board under his feet, thinking back to Kojiro’s words with a furrow of his brows. And then he said something he had a feeling he would regret. “You mentioned a centre of gravity?”

And when Kojiro grinned he seemed to shine brighter than the setting sun behind him.

Kaoru swallowed and, when it was offered to him, accepted the hand to step onto the board.

He didn’t fall again that day.

Kaoru wasn’t sure at what point he’d fallen off his board, somewhere between going up the ramp and missing the floor when soaring towards it, but Kojiro was at his side with quick movements, shouting worried words as he looked him over, the picture of unadulterated fear. 

“Not again! Shit! Kaoru, Kaoru are you okay?” Kojiro managed out, shaking his shoulders and lifting his head up, and when Kaoru met his eyes, saw the tears streaming down his face and the tremble of his bottom lip, he… really should’ve comforted him. Realistically, he should’ve assured him he was fine. But all that came out was an even louder laugh than before, a sound from his very core as he practically cackled, leaning back into the arms holding him with a sureness he wouldn’t let go. “Do you have more brain damage?”

And Kaoru kissed him.

It was a quick thing, just a swift peck on the lips, but it did its job and left Kojiro stuttering for words.

That only made Kaoru laugh more.

“Kaoru.”

“Your face!” Kaoru laughed out, lifting a hand to hold his cheek, grinning like an idiot as he wiped the tears from a now-blushing face, finding himself wanting to kiss him again but deciding not to.

That would be too much for him to handle. 

Two memories wasn’t enough to pretend nothing was wrong, not to mention the fact that Kojiro didn’t even know he’d had them—

When should he tell him?

Should he say anything at all? 

Because that could just make Kojiro hope, something Kaoru knew he already had enough of. 

So, instead, he stumbled to his feet with Kojiro’s support and hopped seamlessly back onto his skateboard, grinning like a maniac. “Come on, you came here to skate, what are you waiting for? You scared?”

“No!” Kojiro immediately spat back, like a child, and hopped onto his own board, so close to Kaoru’s he was practically looming over him, tear tracks having been wiped somewhere in his haste, and a challenging smirk now sat on his face. 

Far better than the fear, in Kaoru’s opinion 

“Let’s skate.”

“You’re on, gorilla.”

✮ ✮ ✮

There was a shift then. The kids started visiting after school and on the weekends, and Kaoru seemed to be magically waking up cuddled up next to Kojiro instead of the usual distance. Whether it was the date or the kiss Kaoru couldn’t say, but what he could say is that they hadn’t kissed again.

And he was happy about it.

Because everything felt a bit… rushed.

A month after the date and no more memories had propped up, just the two, and Kaoru found it a little funny they were both related to Kojiro and skating as more of a collective than anything else. Most days, he hardly thought about it, unless there was a tug on his heart or that he’d remastered another skating trick, they were simply… there.

As they should be.

Kojiro had started cooking proper dinner for them too. When the dinner rush calmed down, he handed the temporary head-chef title to his sous-chef, claiming it was good experience for her resumé, and came up to the apartment to cook them some food and eat it together. Sometimes the kids joined them, loud in their nature as they bounded around or watched a show or spoke so enthusiastically about whatever was going on that day, and it was nice. The company was nice, the kids themselves were hardly handfuls to deal with, and it was those days that Kaoru felt they were most like the family they claimed to be.

Or used to be.

Despite everything, Kaoru always felt like the odd one out. Between the inside-jokes and the retelling of embarrassing stories he couldn’t recall, sometimes it felt like they only invited him out of pity, despite the fact it was his home more than it was theirs. 

And then there were the nights where no one was there.

Sure they would eat dinner, and Kojiro would close up the restaurant as usual, but then they’d all grab their skateboards, Kojiro would change into his outfit (more like change out of it, because who let him walk around parading his chesticles like that? Because there was no way past-Kaoru didn’t veto that decision), and they’d all head out for the night.

No matter how long Kaoru waited up, he never saw Kojiro walk back in.

But he would be there in the morning cooking breakfast, with a sweet smile and quiet words.

But it was those nights that were the worst. 

So, when the next one rolled around, another Friday night where Kaoru was sitting alone on the sofa after the door clicked shut, he made a decision. He stood up and headed to his closet, rummaging in the very back of it until he pulled out an outfit he’d seen in a few videos Reki and Miya had shown him — a white and navy yukata with a black, yellow, and red obi. When the rest of it wasn’t in sight, he decided to go through his other boxes and drawers, eventually finding the turtleneck mask and gloves, even the armband and tights! The sandles were the easiest, as they were by the door with the rest of his shoes, and once he was fully donning his ‘Cherry Blossom’ outfit he slipped them on.

To say he didn’t feel more like himself in the outfit would be a lie. It was as if he’d finally put his skin back on after months of walking around without it.

“Carla?” 

“Yes, Master?”

“Give me the directions to Crazy Rock.” He ordered, and, just after he’d locked the door with the outside key, there was a beep on his wristband, showing the listed directions.

“Due to legality reasons, I do not possess the ability to orally recite the directions. Please follow those forwarded to you.”

And Kaoru did just that.

He skated the streets he hardly recognised with ease, muscle memory doing half of the work, until he ended up outside a gate, most people loitering inside with a couple just walking in.

The guards’ eyes blew wide at the sight of him.

“Cherry Blossom returned!” He yelled, immediately turning heads, causing more chatter, a few phones being brought out with rapid typing. All Kaoru could do was keep a straight face and skate through, doing his best to ignore all of the eyes tracking him. Because he wasn’t entirely sure why this was happening. 

All he knew was that he was a great skater, that the kids admired him, that he used to attend ‘S’ regularly with Kojiro at his side.

But everyone was making far too big of a deal about it for that to just be it.

“Cherry Blossom’s back?”

“I wonder where he’s been.”

“He isn’t with Joe?”

“We haven’t seen him since the tournament, I wonder how he’s doing.”

And, eventually, someone finally approached him to say something to his face. The skater was rather tall, royal blue and wavy hair around his face, settling just below his ears. Not to mention the extravagant red and blue makeup that accentuated his blood-red eyes— and that grin.

It was a little unsettling, to be honest.

But he was classically handsome, or rather would be if he wasn’t looking so smug.

And if he wasn’t wearing such an obnoxiously red outfit with obvious threading to make his ass look bigger.

“Cherry! You’re back, it’s been far too long darling.” He practically explained, slinging an arm over his shoulders as he cracked an even bigger grin, practically splitting his face in half as he cradled his shoulder. “I do hope Joe has been treating you well in such a trying time.”

The look in his eyes said he knew Kaoru didn’t remember him— or rather Cherry didn’t remember him. 

It was only confirmed with his next words. “I’m Adam, an old friend from highschool, we skated together, you, Joe, and I. We also founded this wonderful underground race together.” And then the hand drifted down from his arm to wrap around his waist.

So Kaoru kicked his shins.

Hard.

“Do not touch me.” He scowled, taking a precautionary step back, ignoring the muttering and the eyes to focus on Adam’s writhing, and then his laughing, and then his sharp gaze.

“So you have changed.”

“I— what?” Was all Kaoru could manage out, watching Adam stand and grin again, this time keeping his distance. Except he did place a hand on his heart and bow slightly.

“Cherry, I challenge you to a beef.”

A beef? What’s a beef? He did say race earlier, so maybe it’s a race? 

At that thought, Kaoru turned to look at where the start line seemed to be situated, noting how it seemed to go down some sort of hill. Considering Carla had confirmed this was an abandoned mine, he supposed it made sense. 

It also sounded dangerous.

And— listen, that should’ve put him off. 

But he’d been cooped up inside for around four months, the most exciting thing he’d done awas finish a TV show!

So maybe that only made him more inclined.

“I accept.”

“Fantastic, what are the terms—?”

“Ainosuke!” A voice — a familiar voice — practically screamed from the crowd, so much anger in his tone that Kaoru felt his every nerve stand on end, turning to meet Kojiro’s face with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “You fucking bastard who the fuck do you think you are?!”

“Kojir—“

“I am going to fucking murder you—“

And just as Kojiro was storming past him, Kaoru managed to whip an arm out over Kojiro’s chest, somehow managing to hold him back from possibly committing murder on this man who, frankly, Kaoru didn’t think deserved it. Maybe a slap for the touching, but murder was possibly a bit excessive —

“I’m going to fucking murder that bastard.”

— Hold on a moment.

“Wait— Kojiro, he was the one who caused it?” Kaoru asked, and that seemed to bring Kojiro back to, immediately turning to face Kaoru as if he didn’t entirely realise he was there, despite the fact he was the reason for his yelling. 

“Oh? Joe didn’t tell you? Of course he didn’t,” Adam practically laughed out, but despite the action it seemed completely emotionless, cold. It was worse than Kojiro’s anger. “He didn’t want to worry you, or possibly traumatise you even further. Always such a flake, that one.”

“Adam, don’t you dare.”

“What? He has a right to know why he can’t remember you.” Adam replied with a shrug, seeming not to care about how the chattering crowd only grew louder with that, shocked faces all around. Kojiro practically snarled, causing Kaoru to push on his chest again, trying his best to communicate ‘hold back’ with just his eyes. “I won in a beef against you during a tournament trying to win over my one and only true love.”

“Your true love?” Kaoru couldn’t help but ask, Kojiro only growling further. But then he glanced at Kaoru, something dangerous dancing in his eyes.

“Langa.” He informed, and all Kaoru could do was stand gaping at the man across from them who seemed utterly unaffected, shrugging.

“So, in order to win, I may have resorted to something a little more physical—“

“You hit your skateboard across his face while he was moving at almost one-hundred kilometres an hour, Adam.” Kojiro interrupted with, and Kaoru remained speechless, noting how it all added up. He wondered how skateboarding could lead to such extensive injuries, but that… made sense. Moving at such a speed and to have such an impact, it must have sent him flying.

“And I won.” Adam finished with a smirk, waving an arm around as if that excused it, and honestly? Kaoru was regretting holding Kojiro back. Then Adam turned to face Kaoru directly, eyes locking directly onto his own; the urge to avert his gaze was strong, but his disdain for letting the man know he was getting to him was worse. “You should’ve seen Joe’s expression when he came to your rescue, it was wonderfully murderous.” And then he stepped forward, his smirk turning more unsettling than any human’s smirk should be. “Joe has always prioritised his little Cherry, though, so I’m hardly surprised he took you to hospital instead of beating me up.”

“I should’ve taken the chance while I had it.” He gritted out, hands curled into fists, but Kaoru couldn’t really find anything to tell him, simply holding Adam’s gaze as the man took another step closer, board spinning in hand. 

“So, Cherry Blossom, what are the terms of our beef?”

“Adam!”

“What? He agreed to the beef, now he has to skate it. That’s the rules.” 

“No, he can call it off—“

“Kojiro.” Kaoru cut in, finally taking his eyes off of the other man to turn to Joe, who immediately copied his actions (the fear was set in his eyes again). “I’m going to skate it.”

“What?” He whisper-shouted back, casting a quick glance in Adam’s direction before turning back, now looking more betrayed than anything. “But he—“

“No buts. I want to race, he offered me one. I’m not scared just because of something he did that I frankly don’t remember.” Somehow, Kojiro scoffed at that. “Plus, maybe it will help me get my memories back.”

Maybe it would give Kaoru a chance to tell Kojiro he had a couple already.

But it seemed to do the job, it made Kojiro at least consider it, giving Kaoru a chance to think over the terms.

What could this man that Kaoru hardly knew give him?

“How about,” Adam started then, taking another step, now within an arm’s reach. Kaoru was just glad he had Kojiro by his side this time. “If I win, you go on a date with me—“

“Jesus christ.”

“And if you win, I will give you access to all past ‘S’ footage.” Adam finished with a small flourish, arms waving dramatically around himself as he grinned. “Maybe it will spark some memories in you, ey?”

“How far back do they date?” He asked, hand on his hip with a raised eyebrow, and Adam shrugged.

“No clue, I’ll get my dog on it to see what the earliest one we can find is.” Adam responded, and Kaoru had to genuinely think if this man had a very intelligent animal as a secretary or if he was just a massive dick. Honestly, he was betting on the latter. “So, do we agree on the terms?”

As much as a date with this man would possibly be one of Kaoru’s worst memories, even including the ones he didn’t have, and the fact that he was already technically in a relationship made it a bit… iffy. But then Kojiro planted both hands on his shoulders, waited until both of Kaoru’s eyes met his, and whispered, “Crush him.”

And Kaoru grinned, hoping it was obvious even under the mask, nodding before turning.

“We agree.”

The crowd erupted. 

“Wonderful!” Adam cheered, motioning to the start line with a sharp grin. “Ladies first.”

With a scowl in the man’s direction, Kaoru took the opportunity anyway, walking ahead of the other with Kojiro hot on his heels. “Carla?” He whispered, noting how she lit up but didn’t respond. Curious. “What’s my fastest time on the track?” 

“Four minutes solid, Master.”

“What’s Adam’s fastest time?”

“Four minutes solid, Master.”

“Huh.” Kaoru replied with a grin, looking ahead at the immediate dip and turn, thinking back to the practice he’d been putting in. In fact, watching videos from before he knew his skating style had changed slightly due to the minor relearning, but Adam didn’t need to know that. 

“Listen, Kaoru,” he turned to face Kojiro then, meeting that fearful gaze yet again, “Adam is a dangerous skater, he skates like—“

“He put me in hospital with permanent brain damage, a back injury, a head injury, a broken arm, and several other health issues.” Kaoru informed him, and Kojiro paused at this, lips pressed together as if he wanted to interrupt again but knew he probably shouldn’t. “I think I know better than anyone what he’s capable of.”

“Be careful, is what I’m saying.” Kojiro returned, planting a hand on Kaoru’s shoulder with a small smile. “It hurt too much seeing what he did to you last time, I don’t want you to be put through that again.”

“Don’t worry.” Kaoru started, placing a hand on top of his, eyes flicking between Kojiro’s own before he patted the hand, stepped back, and said, “I wouldn’t remember it anyway.”

Kojiro was too stunned to respond, gaping as Kaoru stood at the start-line, noting how Adam had been standing watching them with a lit cigarette in hand, slowly blowing out smoke as Kaoru tugged his gloves up, Carla under his arm. 

“I do hope you take our beef more seriously than this, Adam.”

“Oh darling, I could never waste such a beautiful opportunity.” Adam almost cooed, and Kaoru practically flinched, scowling as he held Carla, a plan forming in his head. He knew her functions, knew from Reki’s rambles and Langa’s calm explanations that he used Carla to give him exact directions to skate as optimally as possible. Issue was, Adam was unpredictable, and willing to give someone brain damage to win over the heart of a seventeen-year-old boy. To try and match that with something so predictable wouldn’t work, and was likely what he’d done last time.

Whereas, muscle memory had seemed to serve him just fine these past few weeks.

So maybe another tactic would be good.

Adam flicked his cigarette onto the ground and put it out under his heel, turning to face forward when the horns started their countdown. Kaoru kept his eyes on the lights, his grip on Carla a little too tight, but in place of what he knew should be fear all he felt was excitement, an emotion drumming through his veins that had been dormant for what felt like years. 

This is what had been missing.

When the final horn rang out, Kaoru and Adam both immediately took off, running at first before jumping onto their boards, speeding around the first and second corners with ease, both faces fixed into complete focus.

Adam grinned.

“I was correct, the infamous Cherry Blossom has learned to adapt.” Adam practically sang, swerving in front of Cherry as he literally danced across his board, somehow managing to turn the next corner without facing it, his grin maniacal. “Let’s see what my baby boy can do.”

And then Adam was facing straight forward again, dipping further to the floor to move faster, but Kaoru didn’t move to copy. Keeping pace with him was a death trap and they all knew it. Adam wanted a fight, he wanted someone to push against him (in more ways than one), and Kaoru knew that giving him that would be like a tiger fighting a shark in the ocean — he would be in his domain, he would have the upper hand.

So, instead, Kaoru decided to move into his own.

“Carla?”

“Yes, Master?”

“How many turns are left on the track?”

“There are eleven more turns and three more straightaways before the warehouse.” She reported, and Cherry grinned, ignoring Adam’s quizzical look, obviously trying to figure out what Cherry’s plan was, head cocked like a confused puppy. 

“Carla, activate master and high-speed modes.” Cherry barked out, grinning at her agreeing ding, feeling the shift in the board below his feet as it became more manual than the automatic he’d been using in past weeks, his speed already increasing enough to catch up to Adam.

“Going that speed around those corners could be fatal.” Adam called out over the rush of wind past their ears, but they both managed it without issue, with Adam turning without thinking and Cherry calculating the angle in his head, turning just lower than optimal to be able to stay behind him. 

“Skating against you is fatal, my speed is hardly my main concern right now.” Cherry called back, unable to stop the smile blossoming across his face under his mask. Adam seemed to notice something, because his own smile became a little more genuine, and he turned to face straight forward, swerving around the next corner far less than optimally, with Cherry doing the exact opposite and managing to pull ahead, cheers erupting across the mountain. Thankfully, Cherry didn’t need memory to know to keep an eye behind him, Adam’s presence was too all-encompassing to completely lose track of it, so he decided to try a different tactic.

The straightaway was just long enough to turn, face Adam, tug down his mask and perform a perfect Gazelle flip, catching the back of the board with his foot before landing seamlessly, smirking at a shocked Adam before turning back, lifting his mask, and turning at top speed, ignoring the loud laugh behind him.

“You were never one for pointless tricks, chéri.” Adam called, turning the corner two seconds after Cherry and somehow managing to pull ahead on the next corner, remaining at a high-speed so he could pull even further ahead.

And then Cherry had a bad feeling.

The crowd didn’t help.

“Is he doing the love-hug?”

“Maybe he’s going to pull that trick again!”

“Cherry’s lost already.”

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Adam turned around then, turned his entire board, and it looked almost as if he was skating up-hill, arms spread wide as he grinned. But Cherry had no time or patience for whatever this was, so he scoffed and thought of the flashiest way to dodge it. 

That was what Kojiro always seemed to do during their practice sessions.

So he leaned down, grabbed Carla, and jumped, landing one hand on Adam’s shoulder so he could practically fly over his shoulder, landing a little unsteady on the ground but steady enough to turn his head and smile at the dumb-founded skater, who seemed stunned but still aware enough to catch up.

Cherry turned the next corner easily, and the next, and after the third on the winding track he shouted back to Adam who had been close approaching (Cherry had slowed down a little on the corners to let him catch up). “Is that all you’ve got?”

“I’ve always got more for you, Baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” Cherry huffed out, trying his best to ignore the horrific feeling it spread through his body, heading down the next straightaway at top-speed yet again, knowing Adam was close behind. 

Very close behind. 

Close enough, in fact, to wrap his arms around his waist.

“Just like that, beautiful.” Adam cooed, hands still planted firmly on Kaoru’s waist even after the trick had been performed without issue. In fact, Kaoru had mastered the trick weeks ago, but Adam was always searching for excuses to touch, so he decided to just let him have this. It was easier, most days, to just let him hold his waist or hands or face. Kojiro had never been too happy about it, had demanded Adam stop several times, but in the end the man never really listened. Maybe he just had bad hearing. “That was wonderful! A few adjustments and it will be perfect.”

All Kaoru could manage was a small smile, looking back at Kojiro after a moment to see the boy seething, arms crossed over his chest with his brows furrowed, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. 

“Listen, Cherry,” Adam started, hands dancing up his sides, moving around his front, “I have been given a way of access to the abandoned mine on the mountain, I wondered if you boys would be up for a good old-fashioned beef.” The hands moved to his arms, rubbing along them as he hummed. “Winner gets a favour off of their chosen skater.”

“I don’t know, my parents are home all weekend—“

“Sorry Adam, we have plans. His parents want to have dinner with me Saturday, and you are never available on Sundays.”

“Quite the contrary, actually—“

“Kaoru, let’s go.” Kojiro huffed out, taking his wrist and tugging him away from Adam, hardly giving the boy a chance to grab his board before they were off. 

Kaoru wasn’t sure when Kojiro’s hand had slipped into his own, but he didn’t feel like complaining about it. He never did like Adam’s touching habits, even if he claimed he couldn’t control it or that it was harmless, it was just… uncomfortable. And Kojiro knew this, and had pulled him out of it, and Kaoru knew if he asked he would let his hand go, so he let himself have this. It had, in truth, been over a year since he realised he was in love with Nanjo Kojiro, and he still wasn’t sure what to do with such information; Adam certainly didn’t help, with his constant advances and obvious feelings, and they were finishing high school soon and Kaoru knew Kojiro had gotten a place in his dream university over in Italy, and he just—

The time had never come to say it. 

Plus the fact that Kojiro was the straightest man Kaoru knew, he liked women and tits and certainly not someone as argumentative and sharp as Sakurayashiki Kaoru. 

But he could let himself have this.

Have Kojiro’s hand in his, even if it was only for a moment. 

The hands wrapped even further around him, settling on his abdomen, and Kaoru’s first instinct was to elbow his face, thankful when the arms retracted but not quite enjoying the gleeful cackle that followed. “Pretty boy, you were out of it for a moment.”

“Keep your hands to yourself.” Kaoru spat back, somehow managing to kick the man’s stomach and skate off, turning the final corner before the warehouse. 

They both entered at the exact same time.

Except, when Kaoru saw Kojiro at the finish line, coat discarded on his nearby motorbike and revealing his large sun tattoo, Kaoru knew who was going to win. Adam flew overhead, skirting on the railings a little before landing heavily on the concrete. Except Cherry wasn’t far behind, ducking as close to Carla as possible as he used a nearby pipe to his advantage, landing half a second after Adam. 

It was a close finish, so close that no one cheered for a moment, simply muttering between each other. 

But then, after a couple seconds, the video of the finish played on the projection screen, showing Cherry’s board crossing the finish line just before Adam’s.

The entire building erupted.

Kaoru collapsed onto the floor before he could even celebrate, too exhausted to be happy about it. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins was starting to wear off, leaving him tired, hungry, and aching. 

“Kaoru!” Kojiro’s voice broke through everything, and just as Kaoru looked up the man was there, grinning like a mad man as he checked him over for injuries, finally landing on his face with a light laugh. “That was awesome, I’ve never seen you skate like that before!”

And, somehow, Kaoru smiled back, sitting up as he used his arms for support, looking only at the man beside him. “I thought I’d take a page from your book.”

The crowd started to part then, and a man with black hair and a red cap came walking over, stopping just short of them. “The footage will be sent over when I have ensured all necessary videos are included.”

“Uh, thank you?” Kaoru replied, and the man simply nodded and walked off. 

The kids ran over next. 

Miya was leading them, speed-walking over to immediately slap Kaoru across the face, his expression stern. “You are so stupid, why would you do that?”

Reki was next, bounding up to Miya to jump onto his back, causing him to fight for balance with a yelp. “Ignore him, Cherry, you were so cool out there! Doing quick turns and cool tricks.”

“Can you teach me that fancy kickflip you did?” Langa asked, standing beside the other two with a bag of crisps in hand, already munching on another. 

“Sure.” Was all Kaoru could manage in reply, moving to stand with the help of Kojiro’s hand on his waist, smiling for a moment before looking back at him, at his tattoo.

The design seemed a little familiar, but not as if he’d seen it before, more like he’d seen something similar to it before. 

And then he remembered his own tattoo, a moon on his right shoulder. Not as big, hardly noticeable if he wasn’t completely shirtless, but it would fit perfectly into the empty circle of Kojiro’s sun.

Did they have matching tattoos?

“Look,” Kaoru started, a little unsteady at the realisation but too tired to speak it, “Thank you all for your support, but I should head back home, I didn’t realise how tiring this would be.”

“I’ll take you,” Kojiro immediately offered, turning to the kids with an apologetic smile, “We’ll see you tomorrow for dinner, don’t be late.”

“Wh—“

“Bye!”

And Kojiro’s hand was in his and dragging him to the bike, immediately strapping both of their boards onto it before hopping on, Kaoru following because, well, why wouldn’t he?

He was tired, and all he wanted at that moment was to sit and hold Kojiro until he fell asleep, so this was the perfect excuse.

As they drove off, he didn’t notice the kids’ eyes on them, on Kojiro’s hand on his waist, at the point where they fingers intertwined, at the way Kaoru smiled when he held Kojiro’s torso.

Nor Adam’s small, genuine smile either.

The footage arrived via email the next morning. Kojiro was at work when it was sent, in fact he’d just left through the front door when Carla announced, “You have 1 new email from Kikuchi Tadashi.”

“Kikuchi?” Kaoru thought out loud, looking at his bracelet with furrowed brows. “That’s a new name, is he a client?”

“Kikuchi Tadashi is Shindo Ainosuke’s personal assistant, a former acquaintance of yours. Would you like me to read the contents of the email, Master?”

“Sure.” Kaoru replied with a shrug, because if he’d known the man before the not-an-accident then it couldn’t hurt to hear what he had to say.

“Sakurayashiki-san,” Carla started, and already Kaoru was confused. Apparently he tended to use his first name with anyone he knew even a little well, to be so formal? “The promised footage is attached below. The earliest date I could locate is from around nine and a half years ago up until your recent beef with Adam. It also includes the incident, so proceed with caution.” 

So this was Adam’s ‘dog’, Kaoru assumed. 

A man, then.

“Ainosuke-sama also wanted a message forwarded; ‘Morning Cherry darling! Made sure to get these to you after your Kojiro left the house, to give you a chance to look over them without him hovering. Do take care of them, and please understand these are strictly confidential, any one of these getting out could cause serious trouble with the police. Congratulations on your win, Beautiful!’

Have a nice weekend.

• Kikuchi Tadashi.”

Honestly, Kaoru wasn’t sure why he was surprised that Adam had actually followed through, and even more surprised when he opened the file and found a folder with more folders in dating every year, and then a series of video footage from every single ‘S’ race to date. Even more surprising was the document that highlighted certain dates, for example his and Joe’s every beef, Langa’s first beef, and notably every ‘tournament’ date. Along with others, of course.

He was particularly curious about ‘Joe falls in a trash can just before the finish line’ but it was understandably not his main focus. 

No, he found himself hovering over some of the more recent footage, his own face the thumbnail, mask pulled over his nose but an obvious determined look across his features despite it. It was starred too, as if Adam assumed it would be the first one he would look at.

He would have assumed right, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t hesitating.

What would Kojiro think? He’d been trying his best to shield Kaoru from it, saying it would be too triggering, and now Kaoru was actively watching it while he wasn’t there to say otherwise.

If he was there, he’d probably say something like ‘if you really want to watch it I can’t stop you, but at least let me be there to support you’.

Probably.

But even then, the thought of watching Kojiro experience it again, to go through the agony of watching his boyfriend get injured so badly he couldn’t remember him anymore, was too much in itself.

Kaoru would rather have a panic attack alone in the apartment with no Kojiro to calm him down than see that hurt in Kojiro’s eyes again, the hurt that had been so strong at the start that had slowly started fading into simmering anger.

At Adam, at the world, at himself.

Never at Kaoru, though.

Not once had it seemed like he blamed Kaoru. 

So he double clicked on the video, put it on full screen, and pressed play.

It started off with Kaoru at the start line. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He heard himself saying, his composure surprisingly intact, but Kaoru could see the determination in his own eyes and understood it. “Best of luck to you.”

“This is a mistake. You’re not the one I wanted to fight.” Fight? This was skateboarding. Sure he’d suffered a horrible head injury because of it, but it wasn’t like Kaoru saw himself ever being a violent kind of person. 

“You’ve been dodging a beef against me for a long time.”

“What makes you say that?” Adam’s voice returned, oddly sultry and teasing, and Kaoru hated it. He hated that he was letting this man speak to him in such a tone over something so simple. 

“You know it’s true—“

“Cherry!” Kojiro’s voice, and then Kojiro’s footsteps, and then Kojiro’s heavy breaths as he stopped to regain his composure; it didn’t take long due to how fit he was, but when he was finally ready to speak no words came out, clearly at a loss.

It was Kaoru himself that spoke next.

“Back off needy gorilla, you’re smothering me.” And Kaoru immediately found himself smiling, Kojiro’s anxious and indignant face far too amusing and reassuring than anything he’d seen yet. There was something about the way they spoke, how close they stood, how far they stood from Adam; an obvious invisible attachment, a string of sorts that ensured no matter the situation they always knew exactly what they meant. “Don’t fret about Adam, I’ll ruin him. You’ll see.”

Very obviously, Kojiro continued to fret about Adam.

“If you lose, I’ll never stop laughing at your ignorance.” Kojiro said then, his smile confident but his eyes shimmering with that same fear, not unfounded but obviously something past-Kaoru was attempting to get rid of. Maybe he just didn’t like seeing Kojiro scared, maybe he wasn’t used to it. 

He certainly didn’t like it now.

Plus, Kaoru had lost, and Kojiro was yet to laugh about it. 

“Do me a favour.” Cherry stepped closer. “Don’t get frustrated and work out too much, muscle brain.”

“Um,” and Kaoru had forgotten Adam was even there. It seemed the Kaoru and Kojiro in the video had too, turning to face the man in his dumb red suit with his oddly spiky blue hair. “Not that it isn’t adorable, but how long does the little comedy act go on?” They were being strangely obvious. “I believe it’s time to start the race.”

And then Joe spoke, so quietly that there was no way Adam could hear them. Obviously he had eventually, he had camera footage, but at the time he had to have been left in the dark.

“Please be careful.” Well that had worked out well, hadn’t it? “Adam’s not the competitor he used to be.” 

“As if you needed to tell me that.”

And then the countdown began.

For a while it was just them racing, hazy footage down the mountain Kaoru had just raced down the night prior. Except this Cherry Blossom was skating exactly by his calculations, not willing to leave anything to chance, compared to his competitor who was essentially the most unpredictable sportsman Kaoru had ever seen. 

Then something happened.

Cherry was strategising one moment, and the next Adam was pulling ahead, a look of sheer bored-confidence on his masked face that Kaoru already knew what was happening. 

He remembered this.

Moreso, he remembered the feeling, the dwindling confidence as he stated, “Adam, I suggest you don’t get too cocky.”

And Adam turned just far enough around so his words wouldn’t get trapped in the wind, and muttered, “And don’t you be too optimistic.”

And Kaoru felt it.

He felt the fear, the anticipation, and the severe lack of regret. 

He knew what was coming and yet. 

Adam jumped off his board, picked it up, and drove it right into Cherry’s face. 

Kaoru had to pause it then, stuck on a freeze-frame of his close-up face, eyes wide, mask torn, skin grazed. 

The apartment was quieter than it had ever been. 

Stark, cold, lonely silence.

Kaoru felt trapped in it.

It encompassed him, it wrapped around his hands and wrists and arms and neck and chest, it split open his lungs and took over his heart.

A feeling he hadn’t felt in a long while, but recognised.

A feeling far different from the warm hope that reminded him so much of Kojiro but something much much worse, a feeling that had him frozen in place and itching to move his every limb. 

A feeling that had him standing, grabbing Carla, and leaving the apartment, locking it behind him and immediately hopping onto the pavement, wheels hitting the tarmac harshly as he sped off. He ignored every look, every question, every laugh.

He ignored everything.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d skated for. 

Could’ve been minutes, could’ve been hours, but Carla was with him the whole way, keeping him at least on Earth to listen to her directions and tips.

Only when she alerted him of low battery did he even think to stop, finally slowing beside a bench. 

On a cliff.

Overlooking the sea.

How he even managed to get up to the top with the elevation, Kaoru wasn’t sure, but something about the place brought his mind right back to the present.

The lapping waves, the calling birds, the harsh wind messing up his hair. 

“Carla?” She pulsed purple, obviously in battery saving mode. “What is this place?”

“Cape Manzamo. You are far from home, shall I call Nanjo Kojiro?”

“In a few minutes, if you wouldn’t mind.”

She pulsed again, the purple light turning off, and Kaoru found himself just… watching. 

Watching the waves, watching the birds, watching the wind. 

Something about this place had him feeling content, and he couldn’t quite figure out what.

And then a few minutes passed before Kaoru had even realised, and a dial tone rang out.

Kojiro answered immediately.

“Kaoru? Where are you? I went to give you lunch earlier and you wouldn’t answer my calls—“

“I’m not quite sure.” He replied, leaning back and watching a spider crawl across the bench, brows furrowed. “I needed some time out of the apartment.”

“It’s almost dinner time, the kids will be here soon, do you know when you’ll be back? Do you need me to pick you up?” Kojiro asked, and Kaoru just hummed quietly, fiddling with a hairband on his wrist. “Kaoru, please give me something, anything.”

So Kaoru did. “I realised I loved you when we were sixteen.” Is what he said, and Kojiro went silent on the other end of the line. “We’d just raced, I won with a six second lead, and I turned around and I just thought you were the most gorgeous, kind-hearted person I could ever know.”

“Kaoru?”

“I remember the fear, too. That you would hate me, for liking you or for liking men I don’t think I ever really knew, but I know that I didn’t want to lose you.”

He could hear Kojiro’s shaky breathing on the other end, but he wasn’t done.

“And then—“

Kaoru remembered a warm day, the sun having set seven minutes beforehand, Kojiro beside him explaining some random recipe and how people always messed it up as his face was lit up by the golden glow from the ocean horizon, and Kaoru had let go of the fear. He’d leaned forward, took Kojiro’s chin in his hand, and kissed him.

A short kiss, but a sweet one, a kiss that was so tentative and unsure that he’d pulled back only seconds later.

Kojiro had looked at him then as he always had, with such amazement and pride, that Kaoru knew they’d be okay.

“And then I realised I loved you too much to never try.”

“Carla says you’re at Cape Manzamo, I’ll be with you in an hour tops.”

“Kojiro, I’m fine, it’s not like I’m going to jump off, I think I stood up for too long anyways.” He sighed out, hearing Kojiro shout something in the background before there was a jingling of keys. 

“Just stay where you are, I’ll come find you.”

And then he hung up.

The hour passed and Kaoru didn’t even realise it.

He wasn’t sure what was wrong with his mind that day. Perhaps it was a trauma response, he fled instead of fought, and his mind just kept running away. Or maybe it was this place, this bench, the fact that there was someone missing from his side—

Until there wasn’t.

Until Kojiro sat down, his hand over the back of the bench, eyes looking out to the sea for only a moment before they landed resolutely on Kaoru, so much worry in them that he couldn’t help but feel guilty, looking down at his lap with a frown. “I’m sorry.”

Kojiro sighed but smiled, the hand on the back of the bench moving to thread through his messy hair, quietly working out the knots. “What about? You did nothing wrong.”

“I watched the video of my not-an-accident without telling you.” The hand stilled in his hair. “And then I ran away without telling you. And then I worried you and made you drive across the island to come get me.” And the hand continued lightly tugging out the knots. 

“What worries me most is you apologising for it.” Kojiro huffed out, and Kaoru looked at him then, eyebrow raised in a silent question. Only then did Kojiro’s smile twist into that bittersweet one Kaoru had gotten so used to, his affection bleeding out into it despite the words he was about to say. “Before you lost your memory, you’d apologised to me once in our entire lives.”

“Once?!”

That then made Kojiro laugh, his hand moving to push hair behind Kaoru’s ear, eyes glittering even in the dark. “Yeah. Do you remember that voicemail? Of me saying we had a conversation before I left for Italy?”

It was two questions in one.

Because they still hadn’t brought up the fact that Kaoru had told Kojiro he had a memory back. 

Kojiro didn’t know the extent of it yet.

“I remember listening to it.” 

“I confessed to you, that day.” Kaoru stilled, eyes wide, mouth agape. “I told you that I loved you, that I always had. I told you about how you and Adam always made me feel, the anger and the jealousy—“ I meant it, every word. “And you just stood there silent for a moment before leaving. I called after you, but you just left without a word.” Kojiro laughed again, but it was a harsh, bitter sound, far different from his usual happy ones. “But after you confessed to me, here, you apologised. For everything you’d done over the years that hurt me.”

Kaoru wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He couldn’t imagine living with that guilt, knowing you hurt someone so horrifically without so much as a good reason to.

But he could imagine the fear, in fact he could remember it.

He’d said so.

“Which is why I was so scared when it was the first thing you said to me when you woke up.” Kojiro finished, the hand drifting from Kaoru’s hair to rest on his shoulder, shuffling closer so he could hold him, and Kaoru went more than willingly, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep in Kojiro’s arms. “I expected you to make fun of my shabby appearance or my blatant worry, but an apology? It was unprecedented.”

“Big word for you.”

“Hm.” 

They sat in thought for a moment, because Kaoru couldn’t help but think about it, trying to grasp a memory to explain why he’d ran, but he came up short, not a single memory was willing to show.

But he could guess.

“I remember Adam.” Is what he decided on, and that had Kojiro frozen again. “I remember him finding every excuse to touch me, and I remember you—“ just the thought of Kojiro’s blatant jealousy had him smiling, just a little, “You grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of there.” At this, Kaoru turned completely, bringing his legs onto the bench and tucking them into his stomach to fully face Kojiro, the man’s arm slipping from his shoulder but deciding to rest on the back of his neck. “There was something going on there, wasn’t there?”

“You never really told me about those days,” Kojiro told him, and Kaoru couldn’t help his sigh of disappointment. “But Adam used to brag about it to me. Used to brag about kissing you and touching you, and you never disagreed. Just kind of stood there with a frown.”

“He told me last night that I’d changed.” So you have changed. “What did he mean by that?”

“Who knows with him?” Kojiro sighed, rubbing his thumb up and down the back of Kaoru’s neck, eyes flicking over his every subtle freckle. “I’m surprised he even challenged you to a beef.”

Abruptly, Kojiro stood up, offering a hand to Kaoru with his usual smile.

“Come on then, let’s go home, don’t want to keep the boys waiting.”

Kaoru forgot they were having dinner with them again.

So, Kaoru took the hand and let himself be taken home.

Carla’s battery died just as he picked her up.

When Kojiro opened the front door, they were met with yelling and screaming.

“Oh fuck you! You stole my first place!”

“Sucks to suck, slime!”

Langa was just silent beside them.

“What’s happening?” Kojiro asked as he settled his and Kaoru’s helmets on the countertop, brows furrowed as he leaned over the sofa to see what Reki and Miya were playing. Kaoru followed suit, finding them playing Mario Kart on Miya’s switch, a joycon in both of their hands. Miya was in first but Reki wasn’t far behind. 

Langa, again, was just silently watching from beside Reki, his chin on his shoulder as he kept his eyes fixed most likely on Reki’s bowser, Miya’s toad just ahead and—

“God damn it!” Reki yelled as he placed second, going to throw Miya’s joycon — thankfully Kojiro noticed and quickly swiped it from his hands, a small smile playing at his lips. 

“I think that’s enough Mario Kart for today.”

Both boys moaned but didn’t verbally complain, and Miya ended up slipping the joycons back into place and putting it on charge, frowning all the while. 

“I’m going to get started on dinner, who wants to help today?”

“I will!” It was Miya that said it, surprisingly, and the kid was jumping out of his seat and running into the kitchen before anyone could say otherwise. Usually, when they had dinner together, one of the boys would help Kojiro cook, but Miya had never willingly volunteered, let alone so adamantly. Both Kaoru and Kojiro shared a look before Kojiro eventually scoffed and rolled his eyes, heading into the kitchen behind him, leaving Kaoru alone with the older two.

Except something was off. 

Reki was fidgeting where he sat and Langa just wouldn’t stop looking at him, even when Reki’s eyes flicked up to him.

No, Kaoru was wrong, nothing was off. 

Something had changed. 

“So, um, Cherry,” Reki started, and Kaoru couldn’t help his small smile, raising an eyebrow at the boys as Reki continued to fidget. “We wanted you to be the first to know that, um—“

“We’re dating.” Langa cut in, suddenly grinning, eyes sparkling, and Kaoru… couldn’t say he was shocked. Honestly it was a matter of when not if.

“Hey! I wanted to say it!”

“Sorry.”

“Me and Langa are dating. There. I said it.”

I told you that I loved you, that I always had.

“And you wanted me to be the first because…?” Kaoru asked with a tilt of his head, smiling because he could, because it was easy, because his boys who he hardly remembered but had learned to know wanted him to be the first to know about their relationship. 

At this, Reki sighed almost sadly, and patted Kaoru’s knee. “Because we needed you to know that it’s okay to be in love with your best friend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Wait— in love? You’re in love with me?” 

“Wh— Langa!” Reki screeched, turning to face him with his jaw on the floor, eyes flicking between the other boy’s. “I literally told you this yesterday!”

“And I was shocked then too!”

“Sorry— Reki, what are you talking about? I’m not—“

And then he paused.

Because what was he about to say?

That he wasn’t in love with his best friend?

He was. He was in a relationship with him. Even after he’d lost his memory he’d somehow managed to fall all over again, did they not know? Did they think they needed to reassure him that it was fine after his not-an-accident?

“Listen, you and Joe have been dancing around each other for ages, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed it— Miya pointed it out ages ago, during our trip to Miyakojima, and we worried that after the whole tournament thing it would go away—“

“But you still look at him the same way you used to.” Langa finished, and Reki didn’t even seem upset at the interruption, nodding incessantly with his lips pressed together.

“Hold on, wait, let me understand this—“ Kaoru tried, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “You believe Joe and I have been ‘dancing around each other’ for years and that I should make the first move?”

“You lost your memory! He probably feels bad and like he’s overstepping or something.” Reki replied with a shrug, not seeing the severe flaw in his words. 

“But we’re already dating?” Is what Kaoru said, and the boys went silent.

The house went silent, actually. 

And then Reki was screaming. Again.

“What?! Since when?! Who— how—?!”

“We were dating for a few months before my injury.” Kaoru reminded them— and hold on, no, that wasn’t right.

They didn’t know.

They’d never known.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Reki screeched, arms flailing around and almost whacking Langa in the face, but the boy didn’t seem to mind, eyes flicking between Reki and Kaoru as if he couldn’t quite decide who he should be looking at. 

“We literally live together. And everything Adam says—“

“He called Langa his Eve, I don’t trust anything he says.” Reki scowled then, such distaste across his face that Kaoru couldn’t help his chuckle. 

“Okay, fair, but how about the way Kojiro and I act?”

“He seems hesitant to do things sometimes,” Langa pointed out with a shrug, “Even before, he would go to say something or go to touch you and wouldn’t, and he always has this dumb look on his face—“

“Right? That’s what I thought! All mushy and sad and longing?”

“Yeah, that one.” Langa replied with a nod, and all Kaoru could do was gape, trying to understand it all. 

“Well, we are together, and I know it’s fine that I’m in love with my best friend, but I appreciate the support—“

“You’re in love with me?”

Kaoru immediately turned to look wide-eyed at Kojiro, the man in the doorway to the kitchen with his apron on, his hair a little messy with a spoon in hand. 

Not a word managed to slip from Kaoru’s mouth.

“See?! I told you! Joe didn’t even know!”

At this, Kojiro sputtered, pointing the spoon in Reki’s direction with a frown. “I know he did, I didn’t know he is.” Kojiro turned back to him then, hope glittering in full force in those eyes. “You are? Really?”

And Kaoru stayed silent.

Because he just—

Look, it had been a long day. A day he hardly remembered aside from a skateboard to the face and heartbroken words, and now this?!

But, but — you just left without a word — he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Kojiro again. 

So Kaoru stood, stormed across the room, and tugged him down into a kiss.

It was harsh and desperate and Kaoru never wanted it to end, hands clasped at the back of Kojiro’s neck to keep him there, the other kissing him right back with an equally worrying amount of force, arms pulling Kaoru against him. 

“Ew, get a room.” Miya grimaced as he walked in, plates in hand to lay on the table. Immediately they broke apart, but Kaoru kept a hand there, and Kojiro didn’t completely let go either, his palm still pressing into Kaoru’s waist with a frown. 

“This is homophobia.” Kojiro bemoaned but left to go help Miya finish dinner, sending Kaoru a wink as he left. 

The rest of the evening was, thankfully, a less eventful affair. They had dinner, Reki and Langa told Kojiro about them being together (“Miya only knew before because he kind of forced us into it.” “They were being annoying, what else was I meant to do? Wait ten years for them to sort it out?”), and then Kaoru proposed a movie night.

Specifically of the ‘S’ footage he’d received that morning. 

Of course they’d all agreed immediately, so after everyone had eaten and cleaned up, they settled on the sofa — and floor, in Reki and Langa’s case — and Kaoru screenshared his laptop to the TV, deciding to finally see what ‘Joe falls in a trash can just before the finish line’ was. 

Turned out it was exactly what the description was.

Even better? It was a race against Cherry Blossom, who crossed the finish line with a cackle, unable to stop laughing when Joe got himself out and his hair had some liquid stuck in it, his face completely unimpressed. 

“I remember that!” Reki yelled with a grin, pointing at the TV, “Joe didn’t race for a few weeks afterwards!”

“Who would?! It was embarrassing and I was not risking it happening again.”

And then Kaoru decided to go a different route and clicked on the footage titled ‘Langa’s first race’.

It was against Shadow apparently, and the kid had his feet taped to a beat up board. The horn sounded and he remained stood there, which had Reki cackling again. Even Miya cracked a smile, having not been there meant he was basically in the same boat as Kaoru was. 

And then Langa skated like some kind of God on Earth — it was when he did the backside rodeo in the warehouse that Kaoru truly understood the potential he’d held. 

“If it wasn’t for you, Cherry, I wouldn’t be skating.” Langa admitted then, leaning his head back to look at Kaoru with a small, sincere smile, and Kaoru couldn’t help but smile back. “You were the person who convinced Reki to let me skate that race.”

Then they decided to do something else.

There was a collection of almost one hundred races between Cherry and Joe, so they found a bag of calbee in the cupboard, and at the beginning of every race they watched they bet on who would win. Those who bet correctly could take a sweet from the bag. They watched the earlier ones, ones Kojiro couldn’t remember well enough to say who won and ones Reki wasn’t attending ‘S’ to see, and bet. 

“You’re all biased! Why do you keep betting on Cherry?!” Kojiro bemoaned as they took their rewards, having correctly guessed Cherry Blossom for the third race in a row. “I win sometimes!”

“Cherry’s just better.” Langa practically informed him with a shrug, but Kojiro didn’t have a comeback for that one, simply stealing Kaoru’s laptop to click on the next Cherry-Joe beef. 

Instead of starting at the sound of the horn, this one was much like the tournament one Kaoru watched in the sense that he and Joe were speaking at the start. Thankfully there was a severe lack of Adam this time.

“If I win, you go on a date with me,” well, almost. In fact that explained one of the reasons why Kojiro was so angry at him. “If you win, then I’ll sign the rights to Sia over to you.”

“This seems recent but I don’t remember it.” Reki hummed, brows furrowed as he tilted his head in confusion. Honestly, Kaoru was confused too, owning Sia la Luce was something Kojiro would’ve held over his head, which could only mean…

“Why would I ever want to go on a date with such a pompous gorilla?” 

“That confident you’ll lose?”

“Oh you’re on!”

Only Kaoru could see the hurt that flickered in Kojiro’s eyes. 

It was a shock to all the kids when only Kaoru and Kojiro got to take a sweet after that beef, the video paused on Joe with his arm slung over Cherry’s shoulders, the proudest glint to his eyes — Cherry himself looked almost… happy, happy that he lost, happy there was an arm over him, happy he was going on a date.

And Kaoru remembered that — the happiness, the whole and fulfilling emotion that swept over him that day, and then the next weekend when Kojiro picked him up and drove them an hour to the Cape Manzamo, seating him with some food he’d packed so they could watch the sunset. Then, when Kaoru made a comment about the food and how he could easily make it himself, Kojiro went on a rant of how he agreed because everyone always over complicated it—

And Kaoru had kissed him.

Kaoru had—

He’d—

“Kaoru?” Kojiro asked, and Kaoru patted Kojiro’s leg twice, a quiet way of saying ‘give me a moment’ before he stood and left the room, heading out the front door and closing it quietly behind himself, letting the wind on the balcony bring him closer to the present.

He’d kissed Kojiro.

He told Kojiro he loved him, and he kissed him.

Kojiro loved him too.

Or… did he?

He never exactly said anything. He just kissed him back and proceeded to ignore that anything had happened. 

Did Kojiro love him back or did he just feel the need to pretend to? To kiss him because Kaoru had been through enough already, he didn’t need to add that sorrow on top of everything.

It was no secret that Kaoru had changed.

Adam had said it himself.

So you have changed. 

The man that Kojiro fell in love with was gone, this Kaoru was a mix of a couple memories of his life before and everything from the past four months— he still didn’t know his mother’s name for crying out loud! And he apologised too much, apparently, and he wasn’t as blatantly rude or disregarding of other people’s feelings, and to him he hadn’t known Kojiro for his entire life.

He didn’t know the Kojiro that taught him to skate, he didn’t know the Kojiro that fell in love with him all those years ago, and he certainly didn’t know the Kojiro that had forgiven him for all it from a simple apology.

But what were Reki and Langa saying before? That it had never been perfect even while they were dating? Maybe, even if Kojiro did still love him, he wanted to break up because it wasn’t working out.

“Kaoru? Everything alright?” He asked from the doorway, shutting the door behind him before Kaoru had a chance to tell him to go back inside. All Kaoru could manage for a second was a shake of his head and a quiet sigh.

“It’s been a long day, can we talk about this some other time?” He asked, but the request was half-hearted and they both knew it. For a moment it was just them and the wind, a sizeable gap between them, but then Kojiro stepped forward to stand beside him, arms braced on the railing with a frown. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind, I can try my best to help but no guarantees.” 

Kaoru looked down at the pavement below them, the garbage can almost overflowing with bags, a rat scurrying into a hole. 

And then at the man beside him.

The man that, despite all odds, he’d fallen in love with all over again.

“Why haven’t you left me yet?” Kaoru then asked, and Kojiro was immediately stunned. So Kaoru continued. “I’m not the man you remember, I’m not the man you fell in love with. I hardly remember you, but somehow everything I remember is you, and another man would stand in my place and say that means something but I can’t stand here and say with confidence that you love the same man you loved six months ago.”

“Kaoru—“

“Look, it’s fine, I don’t—“ he groaned then, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes, missing the wounded look Kojiro was sending him, “I wish it was as easy as me saying ‘I love you’ and you saying ‘I love you too’, because let’s face it, you love the person I used to be, the person you want me to be, and I don’t know if I can ever be that person again.”

“Kaoru, look at me.” Kojiro started, tugging Kaoru’s hands away, staying quiet until he turned to look at him, vision blurry despite the glasses. When Kojiro let go of one of his hands to wipe away the tears falling down his face, he realised why. “I love every version of you. Even if you don’t realise it, you’re still the person you always have been, even if there are a few differences. Even if you do remember everything, you won’t be the same person you were before.” Kojiro told him, and that—

Well, Kaoru knew that.

But he didn’t really— he just—

“I never stopped loving you. Every day you only give me more reasons to, and I’m just thankful I still have you here with me, and I’m thankful you want to be here with me too.”

I’m Nanjo Kojiro, your— your boyfriend.

“I worried that you would never love me again, that the only reason you did was because you grew up knowing me, because you learned to love me—“

“Well,” Kaoru scoffed, knowing saying this was at least easy enough, “You’re easy to love.”

“Kaoru?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

And something happened, then.

Something changed.

Kaoru remembered a dark day, a storm brewing on the horizon making the trees sway from the intense winds, Kojiro yelling over it. “I love you, Kaoru! I always have!”

And Kaoru had left.

He remembered Kojiro drunk, refusing to look at any women making advances and instead keeping his gaze steady on Kaoru. “You’re so pretty, I love you.”

He remembered a sunset, a kiss, his own quiet, “I love you too,” before Kojiro even had a chance to say it. 

He remembered every night, every morning, every meal, every phone call, every date. 

He remembered calling Kojiro Love, how his face immediately flushed a deep red, how he’d then taken every chance to say it — hey Love, I’m coming to Sia la Luce before the tournament tonight.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

“Kaoru?”

He should’ve cried.

It’s all he kept doing, he felt. He’d known himself to be emotional, but when he went to cry not a single tear threatened to fall, and he hated the idea that it could.

“I, uh.” He managed, eloquently. “It’s just—“

“Did you remember something else?” He asked excitedly, grinning like a mad man. “Should I say it again? Say something else? What about—“

“Koji it’s fine—“

“Koji?” He asked, eyes wide, and Kaoru could say he didn’t know where that came from, but he remembered running home to his parents in middle school and telling them about Koji and how he liked skating, and they’d shrugged him off and told him to find better friends. 

Then they’d moved his school because ‘that Koji is a bad influence on you’. 

And, oddly, he remembered Miya then. 

Just before the tournament started, Miya had asked to speak to Kaoru about something when he got the chance, and they’d never gotten the chance. 

“You haven’t called me that since middle school— Kaoru!”

But he was already taking off into the apartment again, turning heads; Reki was blatantly worried, Langa was confused as usual, and Miya was obviously trying to hide his curiosity. 

“Miya, you wanted to talk to me?” 

“I— what? When? I don’t—“ and then he paused, just as Kaoru had, and gaped. “You remembered?”

“What? What do you mean? What’s happening?” Reki asked in quick succession, eyes flitting between Kojiro, Kaoru, and Miya, searching for some semblance of an answer. 

All he got was Kojiro’s lost shrug.

“Before the tournament, I asked Cherry if I could talk to him about—“ and he cut himself off then, sinking into himself with a frown, “Something.”

“Something?” Langa asked then, brows furrowed, not curious but likely still confused. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore—“

“It does. It matters to me.” Kaoru practically demanded, and Miya closed his mouth then, turning contemplative. 

“Fine, we can go into another room while these slimes worry over you.” Miya huffed out, jumping off the sofa to head into Kaoru and Kojiro’s bedroom, letting Kaoru shut the door behind him as he settled onto the mattress, feeling the fabric beneath his hands with quiet appreciation.

Miya shifted where he sat. “I wanted to ask you a question.” 

Kaoru waved a hand as if to say ‘go ahead’.

“Is it normal to never love someone?” He asked, and Kaoru wasn’t sure whether to reassure him or to info dump. Thankfully he carried on. “I always knew you and Joe were together, and that’s awesome, but I don’t think I’ve ever even had a crush. And it’s all people talk about.”

Ah, info dump it was. 

“Well, if it helps I have always been somewhat similar.” Kaoru told him with a sigh, sitting next to him with his hands folded in his lap, noting how Miya immediately gave him his entire attention. “Kojiro tends to find everyone attractive, always has, but I only ever had eyes for him.”

“So… I’ll find the person for me one day?”

“Maybe.” Kaoru replied with a shrug, knowing he couldn’t say for certain, knowing it was better for Miya to figure it out himself. “Maybe you won’t, but that’s okay. There’s no way to say what’s normal, normality is a social construct. A few decades ago being gay wasn’t considered normal, but society learns and grows, and if you never fall in love then that’s completely okay.”

“But… shouldn’t I want to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone wants a partner, or kids, or to be married. All I want is to skate and have a bunch of animals.”

Kaoru couldn’t help his smile, winding his arm over Miya’s back and squeezing him, happy to feel the tension leave his limbs. “You live your life however you want to live your life, we will still love you either way.”

“We?”

There was a knock on the door then, and Kaoru knew who was knocking.

He remembered that knock.

A knock on his bedroom door.

A knock on his home.

A knock on his window.

“Come in!” Kaoru called, and Kojiro immediately entered, shutting the door behind him and looking between the two on the bed.

“Sorry, bad time?”

“No, perfect actually.” Kaoru hummed, “Miya wanted to ask us to adopt him.”

“I did what?!”

“Yeah sure, as long as his parents are on board.” Kojiro said with a shrug, completely serious, and Miya could only manage to gape at him, astonished. 

Kaoru couldn’t help his smirk.

“See? We will always love you, no matter what you choose to do with your life.”

“Unless you hit someone around the face with a skateboard.” Kojiro huffed out, a hand on his cocked out hip. “That’s not a very good path to go down, trust me.”

“Thanks, Cherry.”

“No problem, now head home before I have to drag you again.”

Miya smiled at that, knowing it was the confirmation he’d been looking for. 

“Bye Cherry! Bye Joe!”

And the door shut behind him.

Kaoru even remembered this.

The tense silence, the comfort it eventually brought because it was telling he would be with Kojiro.

Thankfully it ended quicker than usual, with Kojiro sitting on the bed beside him and settling his chin on top of Kaoru’s head, his hand moving to rest on his thigh with a content sigh— or maybe it was relief? Kaoru just wanted to sleep this exhaustion away, it was weighing him down a little.

And making him lean into the touch, like the Earth to the Sun.

Still trapped in his orbit.

“Promise me you won’t run again.” Kojiro whispered into the space between them, and Kaoru only leaned further into him. “Promise me this is what you want.”

Kaoru held up his pinky, grinning at Kojiro’s chuckle. “I promise, you’re the only one I want.”

“Good.” Kojiro linked his pinky, kissed the top of his head, and then moved back to smile at Kaoru, only remnants of sadness left behind. “Because you’re the only one I want too.”

Kaoru laughed, a genuine laugh, a laugh that made him realise how difficult everything had become, how tired he was, how badly he just wanted to snuggle with Kojiro under the covers and sleep for a few days straight. 

“Go kick the kids out, I want to sleep.” Kaoru huffed, moving away from Kojiro slightly to be able to get under the covers, not bothering to change his clothes, not bothering to make sure Kojiro would do what he asked — he knew he would. 

He always did. 

Kaoru wasn’t sure when he’d left, nor when he returned, but he felt arms winding around him and immediately sighed into the warmth that smothered him. 

He’d missed this.

Being able to lie in Kojiro’s arms as he recalled every time he had before, hoped for every time they would in the future. 

Kojiro planted a kiss to the top of his head, light and cautious but so utterly loving that Kaoru had to hide his smile against Kojiro’s neck.

“Welcome home, Kaoru.”