Work Text:
It is a few weeks into an uncommonly warm spring, on a Sunday that has them all deflated, lounging around the small pool at Ace’s mansion, umbrellas set and milkshakes in hand, that he brings up the topic.
“All right, who is feeding it?”
When Neon turns to him, it is with a particularly puzzled expression that Ace does not trust in the slightest. “Feeding what?”
“Is someone feeding something?” Keiwa is a master of puppy eyes. Ace will resist, however, because the last time Michinaga gave in they ended up having to turn to him to magically remove all that glitter from every conceivable part of their bodies. Not that he minded, but messes where one needs a god’s help are a good metric to appraise potential future messes by.
Michinaga appears to have drifted off in the chaise, full from an early lunch, utterly relaxed in their company. It never fails to amuse and delight Ace, how things have changed, Michinaga’s trust running deep enough to allow them these moments.
“The rabbit,” he elaborates, deciding to grill his more likely targets now and worry about the third later.
“There is a rabbit?” Neon looks around wildly as if to see the animal in question. Her yellow sundress barely escapes a milkshake stain from the sudden motion.
Ace points toward the far side of his lawn where the fluffy, spotted creature is munching on something definitely bought from the store across town and not his abundant grass. He does not care about the grass itself, given he can fix it with but a thought, but it’s the principle of the thing. Is it not luscious enough? Does it not look sufficiently appetising? Those are the kinds of questions he has been agonising over.
Keiwa hums in absentminded interest, slowly sipping his strawberry milkshake. They both follow Neon with their eyes as, squeaking, she stalks her prey with the grace of a cat. Pouncing with strong but silent knees and gentle but eager hands. Still the rabbit seems used to human presence, letting her cuddle and pet it without issue. Triumphant, she returns to the poolside, holding the fluffball up like it is meant to be the next king of the savannah.
“Adorable,” she repeats, gaze shining.
“Cute,” Keiwa offers. His puppy eyes have turned calculating, hesitant where they flick between Ace and the not-pet-shaped creature. Definitely not pet shaped.
Ace clears his throat. “So. I repeat. Who is feeding it?”
“Can’t you use your powers to find out?”
“I do not make it a point to spy on you when we are not together.”
Lies, of course. His heart follows them around even without conscious input. Their almost accidents, their hard times, their nightmares; but he does have other things to do. This must have slipped through the cracks.
“I’m feeding it.” He turns to look at Michinaga, awake and stretching languidly, without a care for Ace’s poor heart. “It looked hungry.”
He tries not to let his face make the sappiest expression it’s capable of.
Neon wants to keep it, and makes that very clear. Michinaga pretends he doesn’t care either way but then produces another pellet from his pocket the second the rabbit is brought within stroking distance. Keiwa looks at Ace like he’s waiting for something to go wrong, and that’s just unfair because he’s fine. Completely. Though he appreciates the thought, of course.
“Here bunny bunny, here bunny bunny,” Neon singsongs lowly, depositing the rabbit in Ace’s reluctant arms. “I think Ace should decide. This is his house, after all.”
It is just as soft as it looks, he finds. The white and brown spotted fur, the small, expressive ears. Ace can feel its breathing, slow and at rest even among strangers. So incredibly trusting, letting him run his fingers from the top of its head to the tip of its tail.
Maybe, it has been long enough.
“Don’t you want a cat instead?” he makes a last ditch effort to change her mind.
Neon lets out a defeated sigh. “I’m allergic. Can you believe it?” She throws her hands up. “It’s like a cosmic joke.”
They all blink at her. At a face so dejected Ace considers offering to get rid of that allergy for her, because being a god comes with the associated complex.
“…Fine,” he relents. He will offer this kind of god-dating perk another time. “But only after we make sure no one is missing it.”
“...Right.”
Ace can’t quite decide if he’s hoping for it or not. What he knows, however, is he loves seeing these looks on the faces of his beloved riders. This happiness, this peace, is what they fought for.
They crowd around him, eager hands offering the bunny endless pets that will surely tire it out eventually. Ace won’t stop it from running away, hiding into the upturned basket that has become its home, but it would be nice if they still have a lot of pets ahead of them before that happens.
Yes… It would really be nice.