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Kunikida could only convince Katai to leave his apartment for three things- school, the ocean, and the arcade. School's been out and the second term is soon to start up again, with Katai having done everything but going outside, and Kunikida's got no time to to drive him hermit lover to the ocean, just to stare and freeze his ass off while Katai gets all warm and cozy underneath his stupid Yoshiko (they should be huddled up and warming each other, his spot shouldn't be taken by some futon!)
But god, has it been long since Katai's seen the light of day and felt the sun on his skin. At this point, would it just melt Katai under its rays, or would he turn the pink of an uncooked chicken? He could already imagine Katai squinting his watering eyes and slouching so far down he's curved like a bridge, cowering away from the sunlight. He's a mushroom, a slug, a tortoise, a… hermit! Kunikida can't just stand idly as his friend quite literally wastes away, becoming one with his down-feather beloved (shouldn't he be the beloved, anyways?)
"Tayama Katai, if you don't open this door right now, I swear to all that is holy and well, I will break this door and grab you by the collar like a mutt to drag you out!" Kunikida barks out in front of Katai's apartment. He could already tell Katai's parents weren't around, so there was no need to be quiet and respectful— though he didn't respect them much anyways.
"Coming, coming…" Katai groans from inside, clearly bundled up in his dimly lit dungeon of a room, staring at his screens and indulging in God knows what (and Kunikida doesn't really want to know, because that search history must be a whole other level of hell.)
The god-awful amount of locks on the front door click open one by one, Katai slowly opening the door and peering out of it warily, like Kunikida might just burst past and throttle him with a mantra of 'you recluse, you're as pale as a ghost and as fast as a dust bunny!' He looks the same as ever, skin sickly and eye bags dark, eyes bored and tired. His hair was a mess, sticking up at every angle imaginable like a dog that just rolled around in mud, lips chapped and bitten, shirt discarded into the void. Kunikida's always been a stickler for routine and repetition— this unkept usual is as beautiful as always in his eyes.
"Why..?" Katai motions to Kunikida, waving his hand at him wildly.
"We're going out." Kunikida states with no room for argument.
"It's so early…"
"Katai," Kunikida pinches the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. "It's one in the afternoon. What the hell were you doing?"
Katai stares at Kunikida sheepishly and Kunikida mocks a gag. "Don't answer that. Go put on a shirt, you social enigma…"
Kunikida steps into the apartment as Katai sulks back to his room to look presentable.He closes the door behind him and glances over the foyer, noting the constant disarray it's in. Katai's mother's shoes sprawled over the floor like landmines, his father's coat dangling off the hanger for dear life, Katai's school bag still sitting there, half open and untouched. Normalcy, though Kunikida finds less beauty in the lack of care than he does in the mess that is his boyfriend.
The silence, a calming and cozy silence, takes over the apartment, broken only by Kunikida fiddling with the keys in his pocket and Katai's footsteps moving almost silently, only soft taps against the hardwood.
"Kunikida, I think I've caught a cold…" Katai mumbles as he walks into the foyer, head down like a dog being reprimanded (don't ask why Kunikida refers to Katai as a dog so much, it may be the lazy personality or the head of shaggy hair— or he's just odd like that, which is the most probable.) "I don't think we can go. How terrible…" He tugs his jacket over his chest, as if it's not hot out. Talk about melting!
Kunikida presses the back of his hand to Katai's forehead in mock worry, and Katai smiles at the soft touch, always a sucker for any sort of contact. But Kunikida flicks his forehead and pulls away, clicking his tongue. "Don't play stupid."
"You're so cruel to me, Kunikida… terrible and evil…" Katai drags his words woefully as Kunikida intertwines their fingers together— their hands were hot against cold, stiff against shaky, unable to be one without the other.
"I know. I'm just awful for making you interact with the world." Kunikida leads Katai down the flimsy metal stairs, going two steps at a time while Katai stumbles after him with uncertain steps, getting practically yanked along. "Don't whine, you baby."
Katai whines extra, just to drive Kunikida up the wall.
The car is parked under the shade, protected from the heat beating against it— as Katai wishes he was right now, the roof of his room protecting him from the harsh gazes of people beating against him. Well, with Kunikida, it's less terrifying, as Kunikida is practically his scary dog privilege— in his black attire and battle jacket, Katai's suddenly spared from weird looks, as Kunikida can and very much will glare daggers at whoever tries to make a nasty face.
It's an older car, but it's never bothered the two of them on their late night drives, where only the radio disturbs their thoughts and the lights of the suffocating city fades out into a star-spun quilt. Kunikida takes it for a spin when his father isn't paying attention, dead to the work from alcohol on the couch, keys dangling temptingly just in reach. It's not like he fears repercussion, he lives by his own rules, his ideals. And nowhere does it say to respect his elders despite the fact they don't respect him.
Kunikida takes to the driver's seat— Katai doesn't have his license and probably never will, he's hopelessly terrified of the metal behemoths that could crush him (though most can crush him, he isn't the strongest in the world.) He pushes the key into the ignition and the car sputters to life, coughing up the clear signs of a life well lived. Katai shudders, slipping into the shotgun, cranking the seat all the way until he's practically laying down. Per usual. "Where are we even going?"
"The arcade across from the boat takeoff." Despite the port being rather dangerous, the two hang around there plenty— there's nobody to stop them from venturing off anyways, so why should they care? The mock gangs don't scare them at all (well, they scare Katai— but Kunikida can throw them right over his head, so he isn't frozen in place for that long!)
"You could've just said that, instead of making me think you're talking me to my execution!"
"Execution for what? Being a loser who can't talk to women?"
"Precisely that! Oh, Doppo, you know me so well! Maybe the stars have aligned and you're my soulmate, not some dark-haired Japanese beauty!" Katai exclaimed with a flourish of his arms above his head. Right, totally, as if the two aren't already lovers. Totally.
"I'd never date you." Kunikida (who would in every single life) retorts with equal teasing, playing along. "Have you forgotten about my Ideal Woman, somewhere out there?"
"Of course, of course…" Katai laughs, "Of course, somewhere out there, is the supermodel woman of your dreams that would marry an aspiring math teacher."
"It's a respected profession!"
"It's a depressing profession."
"Better than applying to universities for computer science as if you don't just have an ability that can do it all without an education… nerd." Kunikida taunts with a grin, teeth showing. He looks nice when he smiles, Katai thinks. Its a shame he has a resting bitch face.
"I can't wait for you to drop out so I can rub it in your face." Katai laughs (not knowing he's predicted the future rather well.)
The two go silent after that, the car once more filling with a comfortable silence, hugging them both in its warm embrace. Katai leans his head against the window, watching the buildings he'd never dare to go to alone pass behind them. Kunikida glances over for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel— not out of stress, but out of an unexplainable need to keep complete control over the car; keep it in line and under his command. He struggles to let go for a moment, but pulls his left hand off to drift it against Katai's. Silent, sweet affection.
Concrete trees turn into rolling gray bushes as Yokohama's city center finally fades out. Away from the city, away from the noise, the commotion— peace and quiet, the things that they know best. The two can't make friends the same as others, preferring solitude than large gatherings, somewhere that they can rest their heads and close their eyes, dream of floating away to a different reality, in which they're what they want to be. In which they aren't held down by things out of their control, a world in which Katai can stand his ground against the big wide world and Kunikida doesn't have the world on his shoulders, the red string of fate not choking them to death.
A reality in which it's just the two of them side by side, no longer needing to face the cruel and cold world. A reality in which they just lay under Yoshiko, a plate of sweet red apples in front of them, watching through the window as the world passes by without a worry in their minds.
Two souls joined as one, serene and soft, alone but not lonely.
The ride doesn't feel like long, though they both know at this point they're on Yokohama's outskirts now, quieter and much more of their sort of place (and Katai's flimsy safe space.) Away from the crowd. The arcade doesn't have many people visit it, a staple only for those that grew up with it— and Kunikida, who was born here in the small subdivisions right against Yokohama's borders, grew up with it well and has no regrets to dragging Katai here the first time they truly became friends.
It's dingy, it's beat up— it's a second home; they won't cry over a building that matches how their own homes look like (falling apart at the seams, but full of love the two have planted and grown with care, even if nobody else puts in the effort they do.) The car slows to a stop, taking a deep breath, a sigh of relief. A smile as it makes it another day, just as they do— excitement over the fact they haven't given up yet either.
Kunikida turns off the engine and sits there for a moment before staring at Katai, seeing him stare right back.
Katai smiles at Kunikida mischievously and Kunikida can already feel a raging headache. "I'm gonna beat your ass."
"With or without cheating?" Kunikida scoffs with no real bite. It wasn't ever a fair fight against Katai, with that ability of his.
"I never cheat!" Katai, the notorious cheater, retorts.
Katai isn't a very good liar. The arcade is buzzing with the different machines, bright with the flashing screens and the colors dancing across their glasses, turning pale eyes into stained glass windows (into the soul. )
He's cheated on every game— well Kunikida believes so, because how else would he have won every single round on Street Fighter? Kunikida isn't that bad at gaming, right? He'll tell himself that to make him feel better about the crushing losses. Though, the cocky grins and the sparkling eyes Katai would have after the K.O! blared from the speakers and flashed across the screen made his humiliation much more bearable, welcome even (though Kunikida always grabs Katai by the shoulder and shakes him until his brain in mush and there's no chance he can use his ability after.) It was normal to see the two fight in this arcade, with how Katai's name (well, his futon's name, he puts in YOSHIKO in instead, embarrassed to have his own flash on the screen) is always the highest ranking, a little crown over his head and his very pissed off knight in shining armor pretty far down that leaderboard.
Kunikida pulls away from the controls, putting his head into his hands, fingers twitching. Katai puts a hand on his shoulder, beaming at him with the force of the sun (holy shit, Kunikida's head over heels.) "Oh come on, it's not that bad! You lasted longer this time around!"
"Save it before I shove your face into the screen." Kunikida grumbles, dragging his hands down his face, pulling his glasses down his nose bridge. Katai pushes them back up with his middle finger, letting it linger for a moment.
"You're no fun." It's nice to see Katai like this, much more lively. It's a stark contrast to the normalcy of Katai's reclusion, his sagging shoulders and his sulking expression, the timid voice and the shake in his hands, the bounce of his knees, the biting at his dry lips, the picking at the back of his neck. It's nice to see Katai's hidden personality, something only Kunikida ever gets to see (he's proud of that fact, wears it like a medal with his chin up.) His dramatic flair, the way he just flops over Kunikida's shoulder… Kunikida wouldn't trade these little trips for the world. "C'mon, we've been playing this one for ages, we'll turn to dust before you actually win."
He takes Kunikida's arm, linking it with his— public affection isn't terrifying when it's just the two of them in their little bubble (plus, everyone else in this arcade are definitely under the age of ten— little kids aren't really that terrible and awful and cruel. Not yet, at least.) "No, I swear this round I'll beat your ass!" Kunikida fights back weakly, letting himself be dragged along despite his protests.
The arcade is cozy, the aisles small and surrounded with blinking games, trying to pull the two of them in like a siren's song of love. It would've worked and they'd have spent another good few hours sucked into some fighting game Katai dominates at, bent over and yelling at each other over the hum of wires and the laughter of the town children. But Katai spots something in the far corner of the arcade, tucked away behind the cabinet for Pac-Man (Kunikida really likes that game, so it's a surprise they haven't seen the ufo catcher before.)
Katai makes a beeline for it with a confused Kunikida in tow, pressing his hands against the glass. "That one kind of looks like you."
"Excuse?" Kunikida peers over Katai's shoulder, seeing him press his index finger towards a plushie drowning in the sea of little fuzzy creatures- a cream-colored teddy bear with thick black glasses and clutching a green book to it's chest with large, fluffy paws, a black tie around its neck. Nerd bear. It stares right back at Kunikida, and he hates that he can see the resemblance.
"I do not look like that."
"You do."
"I don't."
Katai slots a coin into the machine, and Kunikida tugs on his ear. "You do realize that these machines are rigged to hell and back?"
"…well, that's no problem for me." Katai snorts and Kunikida shakes his head, crossing his arms.
"So you are a cheater." Kunikida raises a brow in mock disapproval; Katai grimaces as he grabs the joystick.
"…crap. No, I'm not! You just suck at Street Fighter, dude." He says, voice unsure. Well, damn. If he cheats now, Kunikida will be able to tell from the flicker of his ability jolting the claw to a new, possessed life. And he can't bear that, Kunikida would never let him live that down (even if he really didn't cheat at the other millions of games, Kunikida really just does suck!)
"Sure, sure. I really believe you." Kunikida' watches the claw as Katai pulls at the joystick. It drops right above the 'Kuni-bear', grabbing onto one of its ears and the tail of some white dog plush Katai really didn't care about. The two press against each other and shove and yank, the claw struggling to pull up both the fighting plushies. So, the two of them both slip out of the double pinches, falling back down to earth like Icarus, Kunikida and Katai watching like Daedalus.
Guess he really wasn't cheating, 'cause that was embarrassing.
But Katai really, really wants to give Kunikida that fuckass teddy bear.
Kunikida pulls away from Katai with a laugh under his breath, poking the back of his neck underneath the layer of shaggy black hair. "I'm gonna go get some drinks." His throat is dry from yelling at Katai, but he pauses for a moment. "Spend your money on something else, will you?" That add-on was only really there because of the odd determination on Katai's scrunched up face. He pokes Katai once more, this time on the cheek before actually walking away, disappearing into the labyrinth on arcade machines.
Katai watches Kunikida disappear from the corner of his eye before giving the arcade a nasty glare (as much as he can, that is. He doesn't really have that intimidating of his look…) He slides another coin into the slot, hearing it clink into place. The lights reignite, the claw moving to his command like a warrior in battle. He won't cheat this time either, because then Kunikida would chew him out for it, and then remind him of it for the rest of the year— the second term would be straight hell with the little Kunikida on his shoulder shaking him back and forth over and over again!
The claw grabs the poor bear's face this time, squishing into some sort of tiny dumpling. The bear dangles in the air for a moment before somehow slipping out, falling on its back and staring up at the sky, wounded and tired from war. Katai groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. Maybe chivalry is dead, because this isn't working. "…damn. That isn't even fair." (Of course it isn't, Kunikida would have laughed at him, I told you it's rigged!)
He looks around as if committing a crime (well, it feels like he is in Kunikida's eyes, a cheater is someone who lacks integrity! Or something like that.) before steeling himself. The machine flickers to life without the coin this time, buzzing much louder as energy not from the cords floods its hardware, sparking it forcefully back. The claw opens with a sharp crack, moving almost like a human as it spins around. The frenzy only lasts for a few seconds before the joystick succumbs to Katai's ability, jerking to the side. The claw follows before dropping onto the plush, right around the waist as if saving it from a fire. It wraps around as a hand would, stern and unyielding and determined to win (unable to lose, even— just like Kunikida is.)
The claw yanks the teddy bear, carrying it forcefully to the drop-down, letting it freefall into the safety of the world outside the machine. The bear pushes against the flap and Katai reaches in with both hands ever so gently, a saving grace. He pulls it out and stares down at its face, meeting its little beady eyes. If it could, he imagines it was smiling right back at him.
Kunikida appears behind Katai at the perfect time. He's holding a bottle of ramune in both hands. He raises a brow when he sees Katai cradling his doppelganger like a baby. "How much yen did you blow on that claw?"
"Doesn't matter!" Katai grins, turning to face Kunikida, holding out the teddy bear as if bestowing a medal. "It's our child."
"…come again?" Kunikida takes the 'child' into his arms with much less grace, running a thumb over the velvet book it held so dearly. It kinda— only kinda, for his sanity— looked like his book of ideals.
"Our child, Kunikida." Katai repeats. "I mean, he looks just like you!"
Kunikida glances back at the claw machine, peering into the glass. Nestled at the very back, almost out of sight, hiding away and content with staying in the machine forever, was another little bear with brown fur, a red cloak over it and round glasses. It was clearly meant to be some sort of wizard, but it looked more like Katai than anything else (to Kunikida, at least.) He points at it, as his 'son' needs a brother. "Grab that one too— can't have one without the other."
That's true, there is Katai with Kunikida. And there is no Kunikida without Katai. Can't have light without his dark; the sun without his moon.
The claw whirs back to life and Kunikida bites his cheek to hold back a laugh at Katai's shit-eating grin. It grabs the bear by the ear and holds it roughly, not daring to let go as it moves it to the drop-down and lets it flop down the chute.
Kunikida takes this bear more gently, cradling the bears and the ramune to the best of his ability (which isn't very well, so Katai takes the ramune from him and sets the bottles down on the dash of the claw machine.)
"…thank you." Kunikida says after a moment of silence between the two, simply staring at the little faces staring back at him with such hope. The little bears are back together, so what could possibly go wrong, if they're hand in hand?
"Don't mention it." Katai slings an arm around Kunikida's shoulders— struggling to do so due to Kunikida's ungodly height, but he gets it done, holding the ramune bottles by the caps with the other, and pushes him towards the rows and rows of flashy arcade games. "Let's go shoot some zombies or something!"
"You'd be the first one dead," Kunikida scoffs in amusement. "Though I don't think they'd get many brains to eat from you."
Kunikida sits at his desk, eyes trained on the computer in front of him. Dazai ditched him pretty early into the day, dumping all his work onto Kunikida's shoulders as if his schedule wasn't already packed. Atsushi watches from the desk right next to him, following each quick hit on the keys.
"Hey, Kunikida-san?" Atsushi perks up. Kunikida looks over for only a second before refocusing.
"What?"
"I was just, uh, wondering…" Atsushi motions to two teddy bears sitting next to Kunikida's computers, worn out with love. "Why do you keep those on your desk? Don't they distract you?"
Kunikida glances away from his computer, pushing up his glasses and staring at the teddy bears of 'him' and of 'Katai'. Their shiny eyes stare right back, fur still well-taken care, just slumped over from all the love he's shown them. They go most everywhere with him, for they need to see the world just the same and Kunikida and Katai wish to— to travel the world in their little bubble, soft and sweet, lost but lovely. "Not really. I like their pressence. Maybe you need one, since you're clearly distracted."
Atsushi straightens his back and turns back to the files on his desk with a lopsided smile, picking up his pen and refocusing. Kunikida doesn't do the same, staring a little longer at the teddy bears. Taking in how they seem to smile back at him. How the warm memories fill his chest, even if he doesn't spend all waking moments with Katai anymore. It's the thought that counts, and it's the love he feels that matters.
He opens his ideals to a new page, crisp and pure. In sleek handwriting and dark ink— light against day, his and Katai's duality, cannot be one without the other!— he writes a simple plan.
'Take Katai back to the arcade'. And maybe this time, return the favor.