Work Text:
Truthfully, Kaede didn’t really mind when Kafka befriended others.
If anything, it made him happy. Proud, even. Like, what do you mean his sickly childhood friend was finally branching out, stepping into a world that extended beyond that one hospital room? The same friend whose days had once been a slow rotation of check-ups, quiet games, and the occasional visit from Kaede, Momiji, or Yukikaze, now laughing and talking with other people like it was the most natural thing in the world?
(It was nothing short of a miracle.)
Kaede loved seeing it. He loved watching Kafka step out from the shadow of his limits, little by little, into a life that didn’t feel so painfully small anymore. He loved watching him grow into the genius he’d always been destined to be, leading everyone in HAMA Tours toward the dream they promised to each other that fateful day. He loved seeing Kafka light up—grinning as he teased Renga, trading one-sided barbs with Yukikaze, or effortlessly coaxing Ten and Liguang into motion with a cheeky, “President’s orders~” like he always did.
(Seeing Kafka smile…was enough to make him smile, too.)
…Which was why the way he felt now was so wrong….
How did this happen again?
Ah, right. Kaede had just arrived back at HAMA House when he overheard Kafka and the kids from Day2 talking in the living room. Akuta, ever the curious one, had been asking Kafka about friendships and whether he had someone in his life he considered his best friend…
And well, Kaede didn’t exactly pop in to join the conversation then. Obviously. He lingered just out of sight, listening—partly so he wouldn’t get caught eavesdropping, and partly to indulge himself a little. After all, he was fairly certain he held that spot in Kafka’s life. He knew it for a fact…but who wouldn’t want to hear it straight from the person himself…?
So, he waited.
“My best friend is—”
He held his breath.
This was it. Kafka was going to say his name any moment from now—
“—Nayuki, of course~!”
Kaede’s smile went stiff, like his face had hit the pause button. He blinked.
“…What?”
“Nayuki and I go way back! I don’t think anyone else can keep up with me intellectually like he does. It’s just…different, you know? Being friends with someone who’s your equal in every way—”
(It was like the world itself had shattered.)
Frankly, Kaede didn’t know how he managed to make it past the living room and back to his quarters after that. The truth was too painful, the revelation too shocking… And, as previously stated, Kaede usually didn’t mind when Kafka befriended other people! Really…! So, why did this feel like he got demoted from a position he didn’t even know could have a replacement????????????
“…If…” he murmured thereafter, sprawled on his bed like a man freshly hit by a truck, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “If I’m not Kafka’s best friend…then what am I to him…?”
This was bad. This was actually ruining his life. He had to get a grip before he started showing up to work looking like someone had revoked his soul.
“Chief,” Raito said, eyeing him with concern. “You look like someone just revoked your soul.”
“Haha… Do I?”
Kaede’s laugh was brittle as he took a slow sip of his coffee, the kind of sip that screamed if I stop drinking this, I will start screaming instead. His shoulders were tense, his eyes sunken, and he stared into his mug like it contained the answers to life’s greatest betrayals.
They were currently in the HAMA Tours break room, the hum of the coffee machine the only witness to his suffering. It had been over four days since he’d overheard that conversation, and over four days since he’d started acting…off.
(Well. “Off” might’ve been putting it lightly.)
By now, Kaede could really, actually take his misery straight to court. He had the evidence, the timeline, and the shame to match. And so he did, recounting every mortifying detail to his blonde companion—never mind that the “jury” he’d chosen was an ex-convict eating ramen. It went something like this:
Exhibit A - The Coffee Escape.
Nayuki Kitakata had been standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a quiet cup of tea, when Kaede Hamasaki, had slipped in for a glass of water.
It could have been normal. No, it should have been normal. But the moment Nayuki turned and offered a warm, perfectly harmless “Good morning,” Kaede’s entire nervous system short-circuited. He grabbed the first thing his hands touched—a spoon? A napkin? He didn’t even know—and hightailed it out of there like the kitchen had caught fire.
[“Nayuki-kun must’ve been so confused,” he lamented later on.]
Exhibit B: The Balcony Retreat.
Next, Kaede had only wanted some fresh air when he walked into the balcony that day. How was he supposed to know that he would spot them: Kafka and Nayuki, leaning casually on the railing, sunlight turning Kafka’s hair into something out of a magazine cover right there and then? The laughter, the banter, the easy rhythm of their conversation (something about business and the economy)—it was all too much.
Kaede didn’t say a word. He didn’t even blink. He simply closed the balcony door with slow, quiet precision and walked away, slippers squeaking like tiny screams.
[“I only just realized it now, but aren’t their casual clothes matching?!” he cried into his pillow as soon as he returned to his room.]
Exhibit C: The Hallway Incident.
By day three, stealth had become Kaede’s life (but not really, he’s just being dramatic). He was gliding down the main hall, tablet hugged to his chest, feeling almost proud of his evasive maneuvers…when disaster struck. A voice—bright, warm, fond, and unmistakably Kafka—called his name from the company stairwell.
He didn’t look. He didn’t wave. He didn’t breathe. He just pivoted 180 degrees and booked it the other way, like he’d just been served a subpoena by fate itself.
[“I don’t want to imagine how Kafka looked like when I ignored him…” he muttered a few moments after, lower lip wobbling.]
Exhibit D: Current State of the Witness.
Slumped in the break room like a man awaiting trial. Coffee trembling in his hands. Four days of desperation-based survival, strategic hall-pacing, and immediate flight responses had taken their toll. He hasn’t had a single normal conversation with Kafka or Nayuki since then.
“—And now I’m relaying all this to the older brother of one of the involved parties. Ahhhh….” Kaede dropped his head to the counter and whispered in resignation, “…I rest my case.”
Raito paused mid-slurp, watching his companion slowly fold like a dying houseplant. He chewed, closed his eyes for a short while, seemingly ruminating, before smiling wryly as he said, “Don’t worry, Chief. I understand completely.”
“You…do?”
“Of course,” Raito said, leaning back a little. “Nayuki’s my little brother. I’m proud of him, and I’m glad he gets along with people—but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t sting, knowing I’m not the closest person to him anymore.” He let out a short laugh, the kind that could’ve been self-deprecating or just casual acceptance; with Raito, it was hard to tell. “Then again, I’ve earned that distance, haven’t I?”
Hearing that, Kaede’s lips wobbled into a small frown—soft, instinctive, the kind of expression that betrayed how he still felt bad for Raito despite his own crisis. Raito caught it and let out a faint, amused smile, tapping his chopsticks lightly against the rim of his bowl.
“Anyway. I’m still here trying to mend things, even with all I’ve done. If someone like me can keep trying…then what more for you?”
And it was when he said this that, naturally, the break room door creaked open.
“—Ah, Chief. Good afternoon,” came Nayuki’s amiable voice, light as ever. “I was hoping to talk to you about something.”
Immediately, Kaede went rigid, neck stiff as he turned just enough to see Nayuki stepping in with a relaxed smile and a steaming cup of tea in hand. His tone was warm, polite, perfectly ordinary—so ordinary it made Kaede want to throw himself into the nearest cupboard and disappear.
“Good afternoon…” he croaked, trying to look normal and almost succeeding if “normal” included trembling slightly over his coffee. Raito could only chuckle as he placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, an attempt to give him strength, maybe.
This motion finally drew Nayuki’s attention to his brother, and his gaze slowly dropped to the now-empty ramen bowl. His expression shifted into that familiar mix of concern and quiet reproach, the kind only a younger sibling as beleaguered as him could wield. Clenching his jaw, Nayuki almost slammed his cup of tea onto the counter.
“Hey, you bastard—”
Before the older Kitakata could get properly scolded, Kaede immediately shot up from his seat with a shaky little laugh. “Ah—! Nayuki-kun! Actually, I needed to talk to you about something, too!” he said, holding onto the hem of Nayuki’s blazer, blinking his eyes at rapid speed. “On the rooftop!”
Nayuki froze, eyebrows furrowing in surprise. “…The rooftop?”
“Yes! Fresh air helps me think. Kinda,” came the other’s reply, already half-guiding, half-shoving the younger Kitakata toward the door. “Come on, let’s go! Important conversation! Extremely time-sensitive...!”
As the two made their hasty escape, Raito leaned back against the break room counter with a soft huff, shaking his head in quiet amusement.
“I guess that’s his way of repaying me,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good luck out there, Chief.”
The rooftop door of HAMA Tours creaked open, letting in a gust of warm air tinged with city dust and the distant hum of neo-traffic. The rooftop itself wasn’t particularly beautiful—flat concrete, a couple of benches, metal railings, and the soft vibration of the AC vents—but to Kaede…it was sacred ground.
This was where he and Kafka had once stood as children; two little runaways, one of them escaping the suffocating stillness of the hospital for the very first time. Kaede still remembered the tight grip of Kafka’s hand in his own, the boy’s knuckles pale with a mix of fear and excitement, as if the stairwell itself might’ve betrayed them. He remembered how they pushed open the rooftop door, remembered how the world had unfolded before them right there and then.
Even now, Kaede could still see it every time he closed his eyes: the way Kafka’s eyes had lit up, that rare, fragile spark cutting through his usual quiet melancholy; the way a smile, hesitant but bright, had traced its way across his face as if he were tasting freedom for the first time.
(On that rooftop, they’d forged a silent promise between them. A certainty that they would love HAMA…for the rest of their lives.)
“We promised to start HAMA Tours here,” Kaede mumbled as he stared across the horizon in reminiscence. “I decided that I would…bet my life on him forever.”
“—Chief?”
The voice jolted him back to the present like a bucket of cold water.
Kaede blinked, shoulders jerking slightly as he turned to see Nayuki standing a few steps behind him. The younger Kitakata had been dragged by him all the way up, quiet as a shadow, and now he simply regarded him with calm curiosity. He must have been there long enough to hear…well, at least some of that. How embarrassing…
“Ah—” Kaede’s voice cracked. “Nayuki-kun! Sorry… I lost myself a bit there. This place is just…nostalgic for me.”
Nayuki’s head tilted a fraction as he smiled. “I understand. Kafka mentioned that same story to me before.”
The Chief’s stomach twisted. Of course Kafka told him. Why wouldn’t he? Best friends shared stories, after all. He forced a laugh, thin and brittle. “Ah…right. Of course he did.”
A warm breeze then ruffled Kaede’s hair, carrying with it the faint scent of sun-warmed concrete. For a fleeting second, he imagined the wind scooping him up and carrying him straight off the building—swift, and painless, and the perfect escape from this spiral of shame… (Author’s Addendum: Don’t do that in front of Nayuki, Kaede. I’m begging you.)
But then…a quieter thought slipped in.
Wasn’t the fact that Kafka had shared this story with Nayuki already…telling? That childhood promise—the rooftop, the skyline, the silent vow to love HAMA forever… It mattered to Kafka so much that he’d spoken of it. He hadn’t locked it away in some private corner of his heart; he’d chosen to share it with someone he trusted.
(…Even if Kaede wasn’t his best friend anymore, he was still an important part of Kafka’s life.)
The realization didn’t erase the ache in his chest, but it dulled it just enough to let him breathe. His shoulders eased a little, and a wobbly, almost sheepish smile ghosted across his face.
“…I guess…that’s fine too,” he murmured, mostly to himself.
Now standing beside him, Nayuki looked at his colleague in worry. “Chief, are you…alright?” he said, tone unsure. “We could always spare this conversation some other time—”
“No, Nayuki-kun.” Kaede turned toward him at last, his expression softening in a way that felt both vulnerable and sincere. The gratitude in his eyes was unmistakable, the kind that made the moment feel fragile, like glass.
“I’m glad Kafka has you as his best friend,” he said gently. “Take care of him for me, alright?”
A silence ensued between the both of them. Then...it continued for just a bit longer, to the point that it was starting to get a little awkward, until Nayuki pointed at himself with a rare, shocked expression on his face.
“…Me?” he asked, the word slipping out in disbelief. “Chief, I…I’m not his best friend.”
Kaede blinked, the world seeming to tilt a little as he processed that. “…You’re…not? But the matching clothes—”
“That wasn’t intentional! Ugh, I should change my wardrobe…”
“B-but still, Kafka himself said that you were best friends, so—"
“He said that? Okay, now…that’s an admission I did not expect, but…is this why you’ve been acting strange these past few days?” Nayuki looked at Kaede with concern. “Why are you acting like you’re passing him onto me? Even if Kafka considered me as his best friend, the one who matters most to him is still…”
The HAMA Tours accountant intentionally trailed off a bit so that the Chief could connect the dots himself. But instead, Kaede merely tilted his head, thoroughly lost, as he replied meekly, “...Who?”
A long, incredulous pause soon sat between them. Then, to Kaede’s surprise, Nayuki suddenly let out a soft laugh—quickly building into a helpless, almost disbelieving chuckle. He pressed a hand lightly to his forehead, shoulders shaking as he let out “hahas” that Kaede had only ever heard Nayuki say during the Conductors’ recording for the company song.
“…Goodness, Chief,” he said between laughs, “you seriously don’t know…?”
“H-huh? What? I don’t know what????”
The younger Kitakata just shook his head, laughter still rumbling in his chest as he turned away from the railing. He didn’t clarify, didn’t press, didn’t say anything at all, much to Kaede’s frustration—it seemed he’d decided to let the Chief figure it out on his own.
“I should get back before my shitty brother makes himself another bowl of ramen,” he said lightly instead, fighting back a smile and seamlessly insulting Raito as he headed toward the rooftop door. “Take your time up here, Chief. Fresh air seems to help you…think. Pfft…haha… I’m going to tease Kafka later…”
And with that, he was gone, leaving Kaede alone with the skyline, the hum of the city, and his rapidly spinning thoughts. Kaede could only stare after him, baffled.
“…What does that even mean?” he muttered to himself, gripping the railing as the wind ruffled his hair. His stomach flipped, his brain chasing itself in circles, and for a moment, he thought—no, hoped—he understood. But then again, maybe he didn’t. After all, what right did he have to assume?
“Ugh.” He groaned, letting his forehead drop onto the cool metal rail with a soft thunk. “…This is going to haunt me forever, isn’t it?”
It seemed that the question of where he truly stood in Kafka’s life would remain unanswered…for now.