Work Text:
A day like this didn’t really feel like anything. It was like someone left polaroids developing in the blazing sun, and they’d come out all fogged and not worth anything.
If his thoughts were really depressing, then Hayato would take the mask off. Hongo and the missy wouldn’t have to deal with those thoughts, if he had anything to say about it.
It’s his birthday today. And yet, nothing’s there to celebrate. Everyone that knew this was gone, or had already forgotten it—and surely, Taki wouldn’t set aside any celebration for him after checking his legal records.
So, he rode on Cyclone as usual, chatting with Hongo a bit, and then took the helmet off at a particularly scenic cliff. It wouldn’t be anything drastic. It would just be to get some good pictures, and fresh air’s never a problem.
The sea brine spared no mercy to his vision as he took the helmet off, filling his vision with an endless stretch of ultramarine and a metal railing.
When he went to sit on a bench nearby, Hayato noticed a figure hunched on the other side. A somewhat average-height man was wearing a thin jacket against the fall air, which could be explained by his sickly pale skin.
“Are you okay? You look like you’re an inch from death.”
The stranger didn’t smile, but the corners of his mouth were upturned. With shaking hands, he pulled out a phone with its screen slightly cracked.
One notification was visible.
Ichimonji, happy birthday.
Well, it’s a small world, isn’t it? But that’s a bit creepy, to be honest…He’d only met himself, and his parents, but it is a surname, and there’s bound to be people with the same surname.
“Why are you on this bench, Mr. Ichimonji?”
The stranger’s chestnut hair ruffled in the sudden gust of wind, causing him to tighten his jacket around himself.
“I’m taking a break, because I’ve walked too much. I’m looking for a beach nearby, and at least there the sand will reflect the sun.”
“How long will you sit for?”
He laughs a bit, but it seems to hurt. “As long as it takes for my phone to die. Or…if I wait for long enough, it could end right here.”
For whatever reason, even though the stranger seemed to be forcing these vulnerabilities out, it stirred some horrid anger in Hayato. As if puppeted, he quickly stood up.
“Even if you don’t have much time left…that’s why you’re supposed to spend it with the people that care about you!”
The other simply looked up, stunned.
“You’re lucky to have someone waiting for you, so you can’t just leave without a word!”
But the stranger only offers a small glimpse of a smile. “I guess you’re right. Even if it’s too late to be normal people…I should at least use what’s left.”
Hayato regretted snapping at him like that if he was gonna look so pitiful. He offers his shoulder, at least.
“I’m not that weak yet,” the other replies. “Thanks for all that. Keep that idealistic talk up, why don’t you?”
Before he could form an intelligent reply, he was alone again. Idealistic talk…which one in the mask does that come from?
Maybe Hayato could finally be alone now. Since he didn’t wear the mask, Hongo wouldn’t have to worry about what he was doing. And he would just have to see how this cursed metal husk would handle whatever would happen.
…why is there the sound of someone running.
The sound is the only warning he gets before Hayato is ran into with the force of a thousand bullets.
“Ow, what the hell is your problem?!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He’s pulled up quickly by their cold hands. Another stranger, this time quite smaller, with sleek black hair, and boots tight around the heels.
“What’s the hurry, anyway?”
“I can’t be here,” the other failed to elaborate. “It’s not like I’m gonna be missed.”
Hayato took in who he was looking at again, now that he was over being rammed into. This guy is staring up at him with sad, shaking eyes, barely even taking a breath, and he’s clearly itching to get out of this conversation and move.
“I’ve had enough of hurting everyone. Besides, I don’t exactly pull my own weight around anywhere.”
“No offense, little guy, but I can’t help you if you make it that vague.”
The stranger didn’t take that kindly, looking away and sneering, but combined with the red eyes, it only looked like a front. Seeming to accept that Hayato was curious, they settled down on the bench next to him.
“It’s kinda sensitive info where I work, but…I was just trying to help, and my friend said that it would be better if I’d just let him work alone. I don’t have anyone to talk to without him, and they already leave me out of everything.”
“Well, that’s a situation to get yourself in. Well, it’s okay, you’ve still got your loving old folks at home, right? Switching jobs is fine.”
The stranger’s silence answered most of that. “If I lose my friend, I’ll be alone again.”
…Don’t word it like that. Don’t look so pitiful saying it!
“He probably said that in the heat of the moment. You might be pretty annoying, but I’m sure there’s parts about him you think are equally annoying. It’s too late for you to give up. Get off this miserable ledge before you make him cry.”
He was suddenly interrupted by a hand reaching up to pat his shoulder. They suddenly pull back and look at Hayato, before bringing out a camera and taking a picture of…him?
The stranger seemed ready to take off again, but then a shouting in the distance started to sound closer and closer.
“Ichimonji! Wait!”
Hayato reacted with the random instinctive terror that comes with hearing someone shout your name with such determination, yet not directed at you. No, it was for…that short guy?! What’s up with today…
Another guy, this time with dark wavy hair that almost, almost made Hayato’s heart leap with hope, ran and caught up with the pair.
“Ichimonji, I’m sorry I forgot! I promise, I’ll tell the others too, and we’ll have a party for the rest of today, okay?”
They shared a hug that looked a little too strong to be human, then the one he talked to started crying on the other’s shoulder, it was too much to look at. Hayato could never get used to the idea of working with someone else, after all.
Is it over now? Finally he could send some misery-filled messages, and he could test some grim theory about how much fall damage an Aug could take, before dissolving.
He placed his arms over the steel railing. The sounds of the sea hitting the waves were his only concern. At least until a second pair of arms joined the railing, too.
Hayato really didn’t have the energy to ask first. So, he let the third stranger do what they want, giving a final look at whoever interrupted this time.
He had a far-away gaze, even if he was also looking at the sea, unkempt black hair, and a neatly-wrapped scarlet scarf. A hell of a vintage camera was fit around the neck.
“It’s weird. I just can’t take the picture and move on,” the man says, stealing a glance at Hayato.
“I take it we’re up here for the same reason. You got anything to add?”
He looks down at the railing. “The moment never comes. I’ve fought so long, I’ve seen the lowest of the lows, but nothing will ever make me feel alive.”
Another photojournalist, it looks like. But this one is special, somehow. He has the same scarf as Hayato, he speaks a little bit detached, he looks like he stepped out of a different era, what’s boring about that?
“You’re not human, huh.”
“Of course not,” he replies. “But the ones that are, they’re really fortunate.”
“So, I’m going off of a hunch here, but you’re Ichimonji, am I right?” Hayato asks, voice filled with a curious expression.
“That’s right. I’ve been waiting for so long under another name…I sometimes forget that it’s me, in the end.”
Someone that was the same as him, after all. Someone that could manage to get such a reaction out of Hayato, without even explaining anything…
“Hey, I don’t know what’s up with you, but I think…you should start living freely.”
The other’s eyebrow’s still furrowed, he looks as if he’s having a weight lifted off his shoulders. “Living…freely?”
“You know, like, doing whatever you want. Not ‘waiting for so long’. It’s your life, and that doesn’t only mean whatever you’re waiting for, got it?”
He smiles, looking back over at the rolling waves. Maybe it was the brine’s fault, but a solitary tear escaped from him.
“I guess I could try doing that, after all.”
He took some of the film from his pockets and handed it to Hayato, staring at the other for a while. Before long, he disappeared too.
…
Hayato looked from all sides, and waited for a long time. Good, there’s no one else to listen to, and nobody else to possibly delay this any longer.
Shielding his hair from blowing in the wind, loosening the ties on his shoes, and tightening the familiar red scarf, he approached the railing, only to come to a halt, when something sounded from his head.
Happy birthday, Ichimonji. Please, let me make it up to you, too.