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The night falls gently around Kazuya. The sounds drfitng inside thorugh the sliightly ajar window carry the scent of spring. The mug in his hands long since lost the heat it had when he freshly made some tea for himself. In the bedroom is Kuramochi still asleep, most likely starfished all over the bed by now. Kazuya still can’t believe that this is real. That he is here, that they saved him from LUNA.
The weight of the cup in his hand, the scent and sounds from outside are real, though. This is not some kind of vivid dream he might wake up from and be back in that cell. Back to a reality where Ochiai never played a role in saving him. Where he never saw Kuramochi again. Or Sawamura, or Chris. Even Rei-chan. Kazuya might still work thourgh the fact that she and Kataoka had known for so long that he was alive, that he was captured, but he thinks he understands it somewhat. He can’t change what was, anyways, so instead he focuses on recovering, on arriving at a place he can truly call home.
His wounds heal nicely. His body, that is. Kazuya’s mind might be another thing entirely. Might need more time and patience than he is aware of at this point. Seido offers him therapy, physically and mentally, and Kazuya knows he should take them up on that offer. Hell, Kuramochi tells him he should. It’s been four years in captvity, in helplessness, never knowing what they would do to him next. It doesn’t help that the Big Boss behind all that was Kazuya’s father all along, not interested in studying his son as a Cursed that much, but moreso in stealing his kidney to survive a little longer himself.
“Oi! You okay over there?” Kuramochi’s voice, sleep rough, pierces through Kazuya’s spiral of thoughts, makes it come to a sudden halt. Suddenly he is in the living room again, by the window, and Kuramochi stands by the door, careful as if trying not to startle him.
“Just enjoying the view,” Kazuya says. He takes a sip from his cup, grimacing when the tea is even colder than he expected. “And you? Why are you up?”
“Enjoying the view,” Kuramochi says without missing a beat. He slowly approaches Kazyua now. “Should I get you a new cup of tea?”
“Nah, I can just microowave it,” Kazuya says. “If you’re here to check on me, I really am okay. Just … well, nightthoughts.” A tame description for everything between flashbacks and memories about the time that lies behind him yet doesn’t feel like is really behind him. It stil has him in its grip. Sometimes more, sometimes less. “I can’t wait to be cleared for training.”
“Hyhaha! You overachiever!” Kuramochi cackles solfty. “You’ve been … away for so long. Allow your body and your mind to rest.”
Kazuya taps his index finger against his temple. “My mind drives me nuts if I have t stay put much longer. I’m not saying I’m ready for mssions, but I am ready to get some normalcy back.” The thing is, he knows if he’d ask Rei she would approve even when he technically really should recover more. And if only because she still feels guilty.
Kuramochi hums. By now he stands next to Kazuya, eyes directed out of the window. There is only blackness and some city lights, nothing spectacular to see. Kazuya knows that. And yet he can’t quite look away from the blackness outside. It seems to match the darkness that took root inside him.
“I can feel you drifting away while sitting here,” says Kuramochi, ever the perceptive one.
“Sorry,” Kazuya breathes. “It is your scary face that makes me want to get away. Ow!” He rubs his arm in mock hurt.
Kuramochi looks at him, deadpan, not feeling sorry for hitting him at all. “You are so full of shit.”
“You can admit you missed me,” Kazuya singsongs. He sees the emotions flash behind Kuramochi’s eyes even in the semi dark of their surroundings.
“I thought you were dead, so … ,” Kuramochi shrugs, tries to hide everything he is feeling. As if Kazyua wouldn’t be able to see right through it. All this wasn’t only hard for Kazyua. It was hard for Kuramochi, too, for their friends, for his team. Hard in a different way, but hard nonetheless.
Kazuya puts the cup with the cold tea to the side, and opens up his arms. “Come here. There is space enough for both of us since you are so tiny.”
“Idiot,” Kuramochi mumbles, sniffles. There is no hesitation before he dives into the waiting embrace. “I never thought I could have that again.”
“Me, neither,” Kazuya admits and when they look out of the window now, their heartbeat almost in sync, the blackness outside seems less dark.