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“Kawa-nii, I’m all ready to go!”
Kawanishi looked down from the work spread out before him on the countertop, to the giggling child who had attached himself to the side of his leg. True to his word, the redheaded boy was dressed in his usual school attire, book bag strapped onto his shoulders and shoes already wedged onto his feet - the left shoe on the right foot, and right shoe on the left foot, unfortunately. Putting down the chopsticks in his hand, Kawanishi dislodged the little boy from his thigh and crouched down so they were at eye level.
“I know you’re excited Shouyou, but remember what Semi told you about wearing shoes in the house?” He spoke in an even, soft tone that couldn’t be misconstrued as anger, in order to avoid frightening the easily-startled Shouyou. The boy puffed up his cheeks and looked down in response, mumbling something barely discernible through his pout.
“Hm?”
“Semi-nii said to save them for outside because they’re dirty… b-but I forgot! You won’t tell him, right?” Shouyou squeaked, his big brown eyes pleading Kawanishi to keep his secret safe. But Kawanishi stared evenly back at the little boy, humming softly in thought while Shouyou let out a small whine. He scooted closer and grabbed onto the hem of Kawanishi’s maroon apron, locking his wide, plaintive brown eyes with the older man’s steely gaze. Their staring contest continued for a few more excruciatingly long moments before Shouyou finally burst. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease!! I promise I won’t ever forget again, I promise I promise!” With that, the tension broke and Kawanishi gave a small nod.
“I won’t tell. Take them off now and I’ll help you put them on again when you leave.” He gave a light pat to Shouyou’s unruly orange curls as he stood from his crouch, and the boy beamed up at him in response before sitting on the kitchen tiles to remove his shoes. Turning his attention back to his task, Kawanishi picked up his discarded pair of chopsticks and began arranging the bento he had been working on before Shouyou bounded into the kitchen.
The box itself was simple and child-sized, but he took great pride in arranging the food just right. Today’s meal consisted of rice, mixed vegetables, fried chicken, and hard boiled eggs decorated with cheese and peppers to look like chickens themselves. Before, he would have scoffed at the idea of making something so ridiculous looking, but recently he had found himself making these kinds of meals often, and with great satisfaction. He felt a tug on his pant leg just as he was placing the last pepper on the “head” of his egg chicken, and looked down to find a barefoot Shouyou staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.
“Kawa-nii, are you making my lunch?” he asked with all the innocence at his command - quite a bit for the tiny child he was. Kawanishi nodded once and set aside the chopsticks, taking hold of the box instead and lowering it down to Shouyou’s eye level. He let out an excited “Gwaaaa!!” at the sight, his eyes practically sparkling, and Kawanishi felt a small smile pull at the corners of his own lips.
“Ahh, looks like Shouyou-kun is as lively as ever,” Semi murmured from his spot outside the kitchen door where he had been peeking in, a smile playing on his own lips at the scene.
“Day or night, that boy shines like the sun,” Reon responded just as quietly from his spot behind Semi, eyes peeking just above Semi’s platinum dye job. His voice was practically a rumble that was felt more than heard, but Semi understood nonetheless, giving a small nod in agreement. The taller man slowly straightened from his lean, and moved away from the doorway a step to keep himself concealed from the two inside the kitchen. “Even the unflappable Kawanishi’s fallen for his charms.”
Semi looked over his shoulder towards Reon. “You really think so? He looks the same to me.”
“Mm. I’m sure. It’s hard to see because he’s so sneaky about it, but his whole face relaxes when he’s around Shouyou,” Reon explained, folding his arms loosely across his chest as he spoke. “You can really see the difference if you look at his face around Shouyou, then look at his face around Tendou.”
“That’s not a fair comparison, everyone’s face looks the same around Tendou,” Semi shot back quickly. Reon had to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh that nearly burst from his lips, and Semi similarly bit down on the inside of his cheek, a smirk giving away his amusement regardless.
“Maybe so. But it’s still nice to see Kawanishi open up a little, don’t you think?”
Semi sighed softly and straightened up, turning his body fully towards the other. “Of course it is. I’ve been trying to crack his shell since Ushijima brought him here, so I’m happy… But…”
“... But you wish it was you who had opened him up?” Reon completed for him, a brow raised in curiosity. Semi shook his head, then leaned it back against the wall with a soft ‘thunk’, a sour expression twisting up his face.
“You know what this business is like better than anyone, Reon. If there’s even one weak link, one person who doesn’t put their faith in the family, then the whole thing falls apart and puts us all at risk. That one guy who doesn’t open up much could even be some snitch who’ll turn around and hand us all over to the police.”
“You think Kawanishi would do that?” Reon asked, surprised by Semi's words.
“I’m saying we don’t know enough about him to know for sure that he won’t,” Semi replied while furrowing his brows, looking more displeased by the second. Reon responded with a light chuckle, which drew Semi’s annoyed glare to his face, instead of the wall he had been scowling a hole into.
“I didn’t take you for the paranoid type, Eita.”
“Sh-shut up! We’re supposed to stay vigilant to this kind of stuff!” Semi huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. Reon only smiled in fond exasperation.
“You know… you talk pretty freely about what’s in the best interest of the family, but shouldn’t you be putting more faith in Ushijima’s judgement?” Reon’s smile fell a little as Semi froze up, his almost comical pout tightening into a hard glare. “After all, he’s-”
“Our boss, I know,” Semi snapped back, a snarl curling up his top lip. “But that doesn’t mean he’s always right.”
“He was right about you, wasn’t he?” Reon cocked his head to the side, fixing Semi with an even stare. Semi stared right back with defiance and frustration written clearly on his face. An eternity seemed to pass like that before Semi clicked his tongue and broke their eye contact, having lost the silent battle of wills. Reon eased back into a soft smile, thinking that the other was just as stubborn as ever.
“Semi-nii!” A high voice broke through the silence, and the two men turned simultaneously to see Shouyou standing in the doorway of the kitchen, bento in hand and a wide smile on his face. The tense atmosphere dissolved almost instantly.
“There you are. Ready to go, Shouyou?” Semi asked with a small smile on his face, and he responded with an enthusiastic nod.
“I’m ready! Kawa-nii made me a really cool bento for today!” he proclaimed, holding the box up for Semi to inspect, neatly wrapped in an orange gingham cloth. Reon leaned forward as well, smiling down and offering a compliment to the box. Shouyou looked to him with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Is Benkei coming to school with me too?!” he squeaked, cheeks flushed with excitement. Semi choked back a laugh and Reon slumped a little.
“Still with that nickname, huh…?” he mumbled, his lips curling up into a tiny smile regardless of how distressed he seemed to be at the name. Semi only snickered and ruffled Shouyou’s wild hair fondly, while Shouyou looked back and forth between the two, confused by their interaction.
“Shouyou,” a voice called from the kitchen door, calling everyone’s attention over. Standing there was Kawanishi, who held a pair of tiny red shoes with his index and middle fingers, moving them up and down slowly as if to catch Shouyou’s attention. “Don’t forget these.”
Shouyou exclaimed loudly and shoved his prized bento into Semi’s hands before running back to retrieve his shoes. As he reached for the shoes, he looked up at the blond cook and gave him a bright grin.
“Thank you, big brother! You’re the best!”
Kawanishi’s eyes widened slightly at the words, and his hands twitched once as Shouyou pulled his shoes out of Kawanishi’s grip. Shouyou simply bounded back towards Semi, who was eyeing Kawanishi with an indiscernible expression. The platinum blond turned back to Reon who gave Kawanishi a small nod before taking Shouyou’s hand and turning to walk down the hall.
Kawanishi stood silently in the doorway for a moment, rubbing a thumb absentmindedly over the hem of his apron and watching as their backs retreated.
“Big brother… huh…” he murmured to himself before turning back to the kitchen, mind off in a different place.
☀☀☀
It looked terrible. No matter how Kawanishi squinted or tilted his head to change perspective, his cake turned out looking god-awful. Sure, it was the right shade of soft yellow when cut open. But the top of the cake had collapsed in on itself somewhere during the cooking process, and to make matters even worse, there was a tough, almost inedible layer on the bottom. He poked at the sagging creation with a fork, sighing when it crumbled slightly instead of bouncing back under the touch. So much for the light, spongy castella of his dreams.
He’d never be able to take over the bakery if he couldn’t even master something as simple as a four ingredient cake. No matter how much his parents told him not to worry about becoming a master at his age, his lack of skill still bothered him greatly. He scrubbed his hands against the front of his apron roughly to clean them of flour and sugar, brow furrowed in frustration.
I should have stopped at middle school. I should have accepted an apprenticeship. I shouldn’t have chosen high school, now I’ll be behind -
“Taichi-nii!” A shrill cry broke Kawanishi from his thoughts, snapping his head towards the kitchen’s entryway. There stood a small boy who couldn’t have been any older than seven, wearing a bright grin on his tiny, chubby face. Tufts of soft blond hair were jutting out from his head in every direction, looking windblown and wild. Once Kawanishi’s eyes were caught in his own, the boy rushed forward in a blur of movement, quickly latching himself to the hem of the taller boy’s apron. “Are you cooking again, big brother? Is it cake again?”
“Yeah. This one’s no good either.” The elder sighed, looking away from his younger brother and back to his disappointing cake. He frowned again at the sight of a new corner sinking into itself and an urge to slide the whole thing into the trash bin suddenly bubbled up.
Kawanishi tossed aside his fork with a huff and turned his attention towards the window, reaching over to try and pry it open. Between the fire from the oven, the burning late-day sun coming through the window, and his own burning frustration, the kitchen was much, much too hot. The glass pane was even hot underneath his fingertips. With some effort, he managed to heft up the creaky old window, and was rewarded with a cool breeze right to his face. He breathed out in relief as the wind chilled his sweat-slicked skin, and seemed to dissolve the frustration he was feeling.
A sharp pain nicked at his thigh, and Kawanishi let out a surprised yelp at the sensation. When he looked down to the source, he only found his little brother, roughly pinching his leg and pouting in a way that was both maddening and endearing.
“Stupid Taichi-nii! Remember dad’s rule? You can’t-”
“You can’t say it’s no good unless it’s failed to make someone smile, I know, I know,” he grumbled, stubbornly looking away from the face grinning up at him. “That’s just dad’s rule though- Ow! Hey!” A shriek erupted from his mouth as his brother’s little fingers pinched at his thigh once more.
“Let me taste!” the child ordered. Kawanishi still refused to look down, staying silent under his brother’s demand. Another pinch was all it took to break his silence.
“Fine, fine, you pushy little…” he grumbled under his breath, reaching down to grab his brother under his arms and lift him up onto the countertop. “You just want cake don’t you?”
The little boy beamed in response, but didn’t try to deny Kawanishi’s suspicions. The elder just kept grumbling as he cut off one of the more edible-looking corners of his failed cake, placing it on a napkin and handing it to the small child. Bouncing slightly in place with excitement, the child took the yellowish cake into his hands and took a bite straight out of the oven-browned top. He chewed for a moment, and Kawanishi did his best to look disinterested, but when a wide smile broke out over his brother’s face, it simply melted his heart.
“Even if it’s really ugly, it tastes delicious!” The boy giggled before taking another bite, getting crumbs all over his cheeks, which Kawanishi reached up to brush away.
“Don’t eat so messily. Mom and Dad will be angry if they find out I’m feeding you cake before dinner,” he scolded lightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The boy seemed afraid for a moment, as if he thought his older brother was going to rat him out - but he quickly broke into a wide smile when he figured out he was a co-conspirator after all.
“Thank you, big brother! You’re the best!”
☀☀☀
Kawanishi drew in a deep breath, his eyes staring unfocused out the kitchen window. There was a small bird perched in the tree outside, chirping now and again as it looked through the layers of emerald leaves. The sky beyond that was blue and without a single cloud to keep the sunlight from filtering through the window in a steady, warm beam. He closed his eyes slowly, drinking in the radiance of the sun, and the peace the small bird’s song brought. It was a beautiful day.
“Today… seems like a good day for cake,” he said softly to nobody in particular, before turning to retrieve the ingredients he needed.
☀☀☀
The afternoon sun was just as bright, beaming down on Kawanishi steadily as he walked along the sidewalk, Shouyou’s hand held firmly in his own. Shouyou was walking with a bounce in his step, and playfully jumping over every crack in the pavement they came across, all while jabbering about his day at school.
“And then! The ball went all ‘pshooo!’ and it knocked right into Moniwa-sensei!” Shouyou exclaimed, waving his free arm about wildly to illustrate his story. Kawanishi simply nodded along silently as Shouyou spoke. Despite his neutral expression, his attention was on Shouyou, faithfully drinking in every detail of his story. “It was funny because he got scared, but then Futakuchi-sensei got mad at us. He said my friend and I have to be quieter and play nice. And I thought my friend was going to be mad at me because we got in trouble, but then he asked if we could still play volleyball together!”
“It seems like you have a good friend there,” Kawanishi stated softly as they drew up to a crosswalk and stopped to wait for the light to change. Shouyou bounced on his heels and grinned up at the blond, his tiny hand gripping the other’s tightly as he nodded enthusiastically, to which Kawanishi chuckled in response.
“I gave him one of the eggs from my lunch today,” Shouyou admitted a little softly, leaning into Kawanishi’s leg. “B-because I wanted to show him how good you are at cooking! You don’t mind, right?”
Kawanishi blinked once, looking down in surprise at Shouyou, who was probably embarrassed if way he was burrowing his face further into the man’s slacks was any indication. He gave his hand a light squeeze in response.
“I don’t mind. It was very kind of you, Shouyou,” he said softly before looking up to see the light change, and the crosswalk clear of cars. Gently, he disengaged Shouyou from his leg and began to walk forward, staying alert for any traffic. They both stayed silent for a moment, Shouyou seemingly still wrapped up in his embarrassment. Kawanishi contemplated for a moment, then opened his mouth to make a quiet suggestion. “Maybe your friend could come over for dinner sometime soon.”
Shouyou’s eyes practically sparkled at the idea, and Kawanishi had to keep a firm grip on his hand to keep the bouncing boy from flying off into the street.
“Kawa-nii, that’s a great idea!! You can cook us curry, and we can play, and meet everyone, and-!!” He simply kept going, vibrating with excitement and jumping about, shouting out all of his ideas for this playdate. Overwhelmed by the sudden burst of energy, Kawanishi simply fell back into nodding along silently while Shouyou did his own thing.
Suddenly, Shouyou tugged insistently on Kawanishi’s slacks, brow furrowed into a determined little expression that Kawanishi found too cute to be acceptable.
“You too. Because we’re all family, and I want him to meet my whole family!” Shouyou said very firmly, his lips pushed out into a tiny pout. Kawanishi faltered for a moment, before turning his gaze back to the sidewalk before them.
Family…?
“Shouyou… you’re aware that most of us aren’t actually related, right?” Kawanishi asked gently, refusing to make eye contact with the boy at his side. As much as the other members of Shiratorizawa insisted on using the term “family” to describe their group, Shouyou should be old enough to understand that their bonds weren’t actually forged through blood. Or at least, he hoped so. Shouyou hummed in thought, seeming to consider his words as carefully as an adult might.
“I know,” he chirped out easily, and Kawanishi looked down at him in surprise. Kawanishi had honestly expected more resistance, but Shouyou only looked up with a beaming grin. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not family anyway! Because a family is just a group of people who love each other no matter what, right?”
Kawanishi went silent at that, unsure how to respond to Shouyou’s childish honesty. He only let out a soft hum, which Shouyou must have taken for a sign of agreement by the way he suddenly leapt into action, insistently tugging Kawanishi’s arm to urge him down the sidewalk faster.
“C’mon Kawa-nii, I want to get home and tell everyone about my friend!!”
And so Kawanishi let himself be led, a willing captor to the whims of the boy.
☀☀☀
Kawanishi’s breath came fast as he ran, a plastic container clutched firmly to his chest. His school bag bounced violently against his back with his movement as he soared over the pavement, sprinting at the fastest speed his legs would allow. He could hardly contain his excitement, and even the burn of his exhausted muscles wasn’t enough to slow him down.
Finally, he had done it. He’d made the perfect castella.
It had been a complete accident that only came about from experimenting in cooking club at school. But he knew what he had done right this time, and could replicate it. He was careful to pack the cake just right into a container, but once that task was done, he was off like a shot, eager to get home and have his family see his long awaited success. It brought a feeling of exhilaration to his chest, his heart pounding wildly, adrenaline throbbing in his veins.
He smiled to himself, thinking of the faces they would make, mother smiling her serene smile, and father grinning from ear to ear with pride. His little brother - well, his face would be covered in crumbs as usual. But his enthusiasm was endearing, despite his awful table manners.
He could hardly restrain himself from letting out an excited ‘whoop’ as he rounded a corner, so thrilled by the prospect of sharing his joy with his family. But his energy came to a screeching halt as he sighted a giant plume of ugly, black smoke rising from behind the row of buildings before him. It was hard to tell where it was exactly - he was too far away to see what building the smoke was pouring out of. But it was so close to where he was headed. His heart leapt into his chest, dreading the absolute worst, and suddenly he was off again, now fueled by panic instead of elation.
The closer he got to the source, the more he could pick up - the sound of sirens, the scent of something burning, the babble of voices talking over one another. Tears pricked at his eyes as he neared the street his family’s bakery home resided on and found that the smoke was only getting closer.
Please, don’t be my home.
The thought hung in his mind, an unspoken plea, as he rounded the corner and at last caught sight of the plume of smoke pouring from a building down the tiny street. There was a pair of fire engines wedged into the tiny street, and a crowd of people were gathered around the perimeter, watching in horror as the small, beloved bakery burned down to ashes. Kawanishi’s world came to a grinding halt, his blood freezing in his veins. He didn’t want to believe it was real. He couldn’t. His hands trembled so violently that he dropped the container he had been clutching, letting it clatter to the ground without a second thought.
Mom had been home today, looking after his little brother. Dad had been working the bakery that they operated out of the building’s bottom floor. And now it was all in flames.
His limbs and mind numb, Kawanishi rushed forward into the throng of people, looking frantically for the familiar faces of his family. The auntie down the street whose favorite was dad’s butter croissants, their neighbor who babysat Kawanishi and his brother from the time they were young, the old man who ran a takoyaki stand at every summer festival - they were all there, but his family was nowhere to be seen. In a panic, Kawanishi looked to the blazing building in front of him. If they weren’t outside, then there was only one place left they could be. He drew in a deep breath, unhindered by the cloud of ash and bolted forward, only to be stopped by a number of strong hands and a few startled cries.
“No!! Let go of me, they’re still in there!!” he screamed, struggling viciously against the throng of people who held him back, denying him the chance to rescue his family. Their faces looked down at him with pity as he fought. Tears flowed down his face freely, refusing to give up until the fire had burnt his beloved home down to cinders and a relative had been called to come collect him.
It wasn’t until many weeks later that a well-meaning neighbor had come to deliver news of a pending police investigation. As it turned out, there had been a group of would-be thugs attempting to extort money from small local businesses. The bakery had been one of their targets. Kawanishi clenched his fists under the table as the neighbor went on, explaining in more detail what had happened, his relative and now guardian looking on with tear-filled eyes. But Kawanishi couldn’t find it in him to cry the same way anymore. Instead, there was a fire burning in his own chest. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, until the skin broke, sore and bleeding.
He vowed then, to avenge his family. No matter what the cost.
☀☀☀
He could see his own image reflected in the gleaming side of the knife in his hand. Mussed blond hair sat atop his head, disinterested grey eyes staring right back at him, and a blas é frown rounding out his general impression of ‘wholly unimpressed’. It was him, undoubtedly. Kawanishi Taichi. And yet, looking at the image felt wrong, as though he had somehow blinked, and become much older and more jaded than the hopeful child he remembered once being.
“Excuse the intrusion,” a deep voice rumbled through the kitchen, jarring Kawanishi from his fixation and drawing his attention towards the kitchen entrance. Standing there — imposingly tall, dressed in a sharp grey suit, and wearing an aura of intensity that still cowed Kawanishi to this very day — was Ushijima Wakatoshi. Kawanishi drew in a short breath before nodding to his boss and lowering the knife in his hand back to the cutting board set before him. Ushijima fixed his eyes on Kawanishi, expression entirely unreadable as he moved further into the kitchen, and Kawanishi couldn’t help but feel a little unsettled. It wasn’t often that he was visited by Shiratorizawa’s leader. Typically any orders were passed down through Reon, or Semi if need be, and aside from that, his most frequent visitors were usually Shouyou and Tendou - neither of which could be driven off with a stick. (Or if he even wanted to try, in Shouyou’s case. The method had already been tested on Tendou and failed spectacularly every time.)
Ushijima simply stepped closer to the countertop and Kawanishi moved away, allowing his boss to look down towards the work at hand. After a moment, he gave a small hum of what Kawanishi wanted to believe was approval. The blond simply stared at his boss, unsure of what to say. After what seemed like an age, Ushijima turned his gaze upwards to lock eyes with Kawanishi and give him a small nod.
“It seems like you’ve settled in well, Taichi,” he spoke slowly, his voice barely a rumble in Kawanishi’s ears. He only nodded slowly in response, feeling slightly on edge with the unexpected visit. Ushijima cocked his head to the side slightly, a habit that was shared by Shouyou. Albeit, it was far cuter when Shouyou did it. “Can I offer you any assistance?”
Kawanishi blanked at that, before shaking his head in vehement refusal.
“It’s nearly ready, and you’re busy with much more important things, I’m sure,” the cook said quickly as he turned back to the cutting board, eyes boring a hole in the unchopped onion before him, waiting patiently to be thrown into a pan and caramelized to perfection. Ushijima said nothing, simply content to stand in Kawanishi’s periphery and stare in a manner that made the cook far more uncomfortable than he wanted to be.
“You know-” the man spoke suddenly, startling Kawanishi, “I’m glad you’ve found better use for that.”
Somehow, Kawanishi didn’t have to look up to know Ushijima was referring to the knife that was resting on the cutting board. He still didn’t look up as Ushijima turned and exited the kitchen, leaving the cook alone to his thoughts. An odd, achey feeling bubbled up inside his chest as the words rang in his ears. Shaking his head to clear out his intrusive thoughts, Kawanishi grabbed the knife and hacked violently down the center of the onion before him.
Kawanishi’s nose crinkled in disgust as the acrid scent of cut onions washed over him. He had assumed that years of cooking would have dulled his senses to the awful burn, but alas, he was just as weak as ever. Feeling his eyes water, he set on the cutting board with determination, furiously chopping the onions before him into perfectly sized chunks while trying to ignore the tears rolling down his cheeks.
☀☀☀
Everything was gone. The once charming bakery had been reduced to a pile of ash and charred rubble. Kawanishi ran his hand over a burnt support beam, fingers brushing across the cracks and flaking off its layers until his palm was covered in soot. He stared at the skin of his hand, how it was stained black by the touch, and sighed. Where he was standing had once been the kitchen, glowing amber in the late afternoon sun, the familiar scent of bread hanging in the air. But there was no scent of baking bread now. No warm glow. There were only blacked-out remains in place of his home.
He stepped in further, walking to where the countertop had stood. A bit of framework still held on, and he used it as a guide to navigate to where the window had once been. He stood, looking out as though the window itself were still there, as if he couldn’t see through the holes in the walls anyway. Somehow, the view was still about the same. He stared blankly at the wooden fence outside, a little warped and charred here and there, but otherwise undamaged. The neighbors had said it was fortunate that no other buildings had gone up in the blaze, and Kawanishi agreed fully with the sentiment. Nobody deserved this sort of pain.
Slowly, he looked down through the burnt-out countertop, eyeing the destroyed pots and pans that had been stored inside. Crouching down, he reached in and ran a hand over the warped steel of a baking sheet, brushing off layers of soot until its dingy silver surface was revealed. He paused for a moment, staring at the vague blurry image of himself reflected in the surface before moving on to see if anything was left undamaged. His hands moved aside each damaged baking tool with care, as though they still had some value despite the holes and distortions. Finally, his hands brushed against a familiar knife block, and he quickly pulled it out, heart racing. The wood was cracked, and practically disintegrating in his hands. But somehow, the gleaming steel knives were still relatively undamaged, only tempered by the fierce flames instead of destroyed. He pulled out the set’s cook knife and gently ran a finger along the edge of the blade. It would need sharpening and some polishing to get it back to its former glory, but overall it was still useable.
This was the knife set his father had given him years ago, when he said he wanted to study culinary arts and take over the bakery. It was a gift that had been bestowed upon him proudly - a symbol of his future path. But the sight now only rubbed at a sore spot in his heart.
He held the knife up, watching as it glinted dully in the light. The path laid out before him was gone now, burned to the ground in an act of malice, but that didn’t mean there was no longer a purpose for him. His brow pushed down into a look of grim determination. He could still use these knives. He could make the people who did this pay, make them suffer. It didn’t matter if his path ended with that or not, so long as his revenge was had. His fingers tightened on the handle of the knife.
“Ah… who are you?” a voice called from where the kitchen door had once been, and Kawanishi whipped around in a panic to face the intruder. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard their approach, the crunch of debris underfoot lost entirely to his ears. He expected a neighbor, or perhaps even a police officer to be the one encroaching on his reverie, but blinked in surprise at the person before him.
It was a complete stranger.
The man was tall and imposing, dressed from head to toe in tailored clothing. He looked like he had stepped right out of a men’s magazine - or at least he would have if it wasn’t for the intimidating glare he wore. Kawanishi faltered, dropping his knife wielding hand to his side, unsure of what to do with it. The man only responded by raising a brow.
“Tresspassing? That’s not wise, for a number of reasons you know.” The man spoke evenly, without a hint of malice in his voice, but Kawanishi found himself prickling at the words anyway.
“I’m not trespassing, I live here. Or… I lived here,” Kawanishi said firmly, putting on his most intimidating expression. “And anyway, aren’t you the one trespassing?” The man locked eyes with him for a moment, and Kawanishi quickly found himself buckling under the magnitude of that stare.
“I am,” he said bluntly.
Kawanishi blinked at that, shocked by the stranger’s honesty. The man didn’t even seem to have the tact to act ashamed about his actions.
“So why-” Kawanishi started, only to be cut off by the intruder.
“I only heard that the owners and their son had been killed. I didn’t know they had another child.”
Kawanishi bit at his bottom lip as unbidden tears welled up in his eyes. The brutal truth this man spoke hit him much harder than he expected - the reality that everyone who spoke to him seemed to dance around nowadays. “Yeah, well, they did,” he spat bitterly, hating the way his voice cracked with strain. “I was at school when it happened. When I came home that day the whole place was in flames and my family was already… they already...”
A sob wracked Kawanishi’s body, cutting off the words he was so desperately trying to push out. He cursed softly as tears began to flow from his eyes, reaching up to rub at them with a sooty hand, and instead smearing ash over his face. The man regarded him silently before stepping closer and pulling a pure white handkerchief from his pocket and offering it up without a word. With a trembling hand, Kawanishi reached out and took the cloth, quietly setting to cleaning his face of the tears and soot. Slowly, his sobs faded away, leaving him only with a dull ache in the back of his head. He looked up at the man before him, who only fixed him with the same stare as before, giving Kawanishi no indication as to what was happening in his head. He lifted the soiled handkerchief as if to return it, but the man simply shook his head. Kawanishi held it for a moment before deciding to stuff the cloth into his pocket unceremoniously.
“I… I couldn’t do anything,” he said softly, then ran his tongue over his chapped lips to wet them. “They held me back while I watched everything burn. My family, the bakery, everything I had is gone now.”
The man tilted his head to the side, seeming to contemplate Kawanishi’s words before he opened his mouth to speak. “It’s tragic that you lost the life you knew. The grief that comes with the death of family is a pain that surpasses all physical ones. However…” He trailed off, eyes focusing on the blade Kawanishi clutched in his hand, studying it carefully before continuing.
“Revenge isn’t isn’t a burden for children to bear.” His words were firm. “You’re young, with the promise of a long future ahead of you. Even if it’s a future without your family, or without the goals you once expected to achieve, it’s yours to live. That is your burden.”
Kawanishi felt taken aback by those words, staring at the stranger in confusion. Who was he — some trespasser, some interloper — to suggest he give up on his revenge? He didn’t know the first thing about Kawanishi, his family, or the pain these people had inflicted.
“You… you don’t have any right to tell me that,” Kawanishi spat bitterly. “This wasn’t some quiet passing, my family suffered when they died. Even if the people who did this were arrested, it wouldn’t make things right, they’d just sit in jail without giving a second thought to the family that they murdered. I want them feel true pain just like my family did, and the only person left who can do it is me!”
The stranger stared for a moment, seemingly mulling over Kawanishi’s words before speaking himself. “So your plan is to attack these people on your own, with just a knife? Like I said, you’re a child. Even if you had the luck to take out one by surprise, you’d quickly be outnumbered and overpowered.”
“Then what do you think I should do?!” Kawanishi shouted, rage sparking in his chest. “Should I sit back and let them get away with what they did to my family, because I’m just a kid?! That’s ridiculous!”
“I’m not saying that at all. It’s true that you’re a child, and that you shouldn’t be the one to exact revenge. It’s far too dangerous.” The man spoke slowly, quickly holding up a hand to silence Kawanishi, who had opened his mouth to protest. “But I never said you couldn’t trust an ally to shoulder that burden for you.”
“I don’t have any allies left!!” Kawanishi spat, resisting a childish urge to kick the man in the shin.
“Then accept me as your ally.”
A beat passed with Kawanishi frozen in place, disbelief, confusion, and shock swirling in his mind. Had a complete stranger — and a home invader nonetheless — just casually offered to kill for the sake of a kid’s revenge? Who the heck could agree to something like murder so easily?
Seeming to sense Kawanishi’s hesitation, the man spoke, keeping his tone soft and even. “I understand. I know what it feels like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, and to think that you must face it all on your own. But that’s wrong,” the man said slowly, his face breaking into a small smile that was impossibly gentle. “There are always people to help you. People who will be your family in times of need — not because of blood, but because of the bonds you share.
“So I’ll make you a promise. Should you choose to trust me, I will act as your ally and shoulder the burden of your family’s revenge. Then you will be able to take on your future unhindered by violence and bloodshed,” the man ended with a nod, extending his hand toward Kawanishi. “Besides… there are better uses for a knife than to cause pain.”
Kawanishi looked to the hand outstretched to him and bit at his bottom lip, unsure. As much as he hated to admit it, the man was right. Kawanishi didn’t stand a chance of actually succeeding in his revenge, and the endeavor could cost him his life regardless. He looked down, towards the knife still held in his hand, thinking about his family. It wouldn’t do to let them go without justice.
But would a life cut short be something that they wanted for him? He remembered the look of pride on his father’s face whenever he got a recipe right, the beaming smile that he wore when Kawanishi said that taking over their bakery was his dream. What would he think if Kawanishi threw all of that away? How would his mother look at him? Or his brother? Would they look on in admiration and gratitude, or disappointment?
He knew the answer, deep in his heart. No matter how much anger and hatred he felt, he knew what his loving family would want, for the sake of his future.
Looking away from the knife, he turned his attention towards the man, locking eyes with that firm gaze. It was crazy to believe the word of some oddball stranger, and yet there was something in those eyes that made Kawanishi certain he could trust the man before him. He reached out with his free hand to firmly grip the man’s extended one and stared back into that steady gaze, feeling a spark of hope flicker in the ashes of his heart.
☀☀☀
So how… did this end up being my life…?
Kawanishi pondered silently as he slapped a wandering pair of chopsticks away from the steaming bowl of food he was carrying, doing his best not to further acknowledge Tendou’s whining.
While Ushijima had indeed been the reason Kawanishi was even participating in this future, he hadn’t quite expected it to be like this. From the time his home had burned down, so many things had happened in his life. The people who had attacked his family hadn’t been heard from since that fateful day when he met Ushijima, completely confounding both the police and his neighbors. Many of them believed that the thugs had simply packed up and gone into hiding, instead of trying to face the consequences of their actions. But Kawanishi knew the truth. He had often wondered exactly how they met their ends, but he never asked Ushijima for details, and Kawanishi suspected he wouldn’t be forthcoming about it anyway.
And it was for the best. With the burden of revenge lifted from his shoulders, Kawanishi was free to pursue his culinary dreams, enrolling in the best culinary school in the country while taking up a job as Shiratorizawa’s in-home chef. It had been four years of hard work, but now that he was fully fledged and strong enough to stand on his own, he felt that the fight was well-won.
Truly, it had become a life worth living. If only...
“Tendou if you don’t get those chopsticks away from me I’m going to take them and shove them up your-” he growled, and the sticks suddenly disappeared from his periphery, accompanied by a startled yelp.
Yes. Now it was a life worth living.
He stepped into the eating area where everyone was gathered and made his way towards the large lacquered wood table in the center of the room, placing the bowl of food right in the middle. Finally, the meal was ready, and the men who had only been loitering a second ago swooped in to claim their stakes without needing so much as a word to tell them go. Kawanishi sighed as he settled into his seat, choosing to watch everyone fill their plates with the food he had worked so hard to cook up. It fluffed his sense of pride to see them go about it with such gusto - though he had seen them do the same to slop-tier fast food, so perhaps hungry men weren’t the best gauge of taste quality.
Resting his chin in his palm, a bored expression plastered on his face, he watched as Goshiki and Shirabu bickered about something, jabbing their chopsticks at each other in their agitation, oblivious to the way Semi was growing increasingly more livid at their terrible manners. Not that Semi was any better, letting his temper fly off at them and rocking the whole room with his shouts. It was noisy and chaotic, and he was pretty sure he saw something go flying in his periphery, but somehow, the white noise of their chatter soothed him into a state of tranquil familiarity.
He pulled away from his thoughts when he felt a small tug on the sleeve of his shirt, and looked over to find a pensive looking Shouyou standing by his side, plate and fork held at the ready.
“Kawa-nii, can I have some of that?” he asked softly, letting go of the shirt fabric to point at a plate near the center of the table, just out of his reach. With a slow nod, Kawanishi took Shouyou’s plate and quickly grabbed a small portion. The smile that Shouyou gave him when he handed the plate back nearly melted his heart, and he could hardly resist ruffling the boy’s unruly orange locks.
Yes, it was chaotic and messy and complicated. It wasn’t at all like the warm, fond memories he had of his family’s home, filled with the scent of warm bread and the laughter of his family. But this life had somehow definitely led him back to a place he could call home. And maybe, he figured, it had led him to people he could call family as well.
“Eat well, Shouyou. There’s castella for dessert tonight.”