Archive of Our Own

1.
For as long as Madarame Hidekuni can remember, Fujiwara Shirou has been a permanent fixture in the family’s lives. His older brothers can vaguely remember when old Fujiwara-jiisan, face drawn, asked permission to their mother to let him put his recently orphaned grandson under his care. Their mother had approved, even went as far as treating Shirou as an almost adopted son—feeding him, clothing him, and schooling him in the same way she did her own children.

It’s hard to learn details about those days though, because Shinobu despises nothing more than being nosy and Yonekuni cares for nothing that doesn’t concern himself. He could’ve asked mother or Fujiwara-jiisan, but he’ll risk suspicion from the one and pained memories for the other. So Hidekuni stopped wondering why Shirou smelled weird—not a monkey but not quite anything else either—even though mother already said that he’s a madararui too, stopped wondering what happened to Shirou’s parents, and just enjoyed his days in the company of the boy, who he sometimes thought understood him better than all of his siblings.

2.
They spent years in each other’s company. Lazing carelessly, dangling on the branches of the ancient cherry blossom tree near the house while Shirou brought his book of poems and read to him tanka after tanka in his soothing voice. Hidekuni would picked dandelions and blew florets onto his face. Shirou would sneeze and Hidekuni would laugh.

3.
The bespectacled boy is slightly older, so in the summer, he’d helped Hidekuni review his summer homework while sitting under the cicada tree in the backyard for shade. Hidekuni loved the light breeze one would catch under it, but Shirou has never been fond of sunshine. His pale skin would redden after a while, a flush blooming on his cheeks and traveling up his damp neck. Hidekuni caught himself staring, once, wanting to lick his salty skin, stared at the boy hard enough that he started fidgeting, before taking pity on the boy and suggesting they go swimming in the river near the temple.

4.
To say that Hidekuni is very fond of the boy is an understatement. He’s the only one that tolerated Hidekuni’s love of books and arts; would look at him with awe and wide eyes when Hidekuni would talk about his Dad and his arts. Shirou wants to study Arts History, he loves to sigh at period pieces and thinks nothing would be better than getting paid while being surrounded by beautiful works. He said that once under bright summer sky, breathless and glaze-eyed and looking very kissable.

He’s blushing because he thought it too big a dream for ‘the helper’s grandson’ like him. Hidekuni frowned, said his Dad could probably give a word or two to some universities, and Shirou’s eyes widened in wonder again. Hidekuni wondered if he’d close them if they kiss.

But then the boy looked down again, a small shrug in his narrow shoulders ‘I can’t let you do that, Hidekuni,’

‘Don’t worry, it’s something you can only get if you’re good enough. It’s hardly nepotism.’

Shirou’s smile was small, but slightly sad. ‘You’re just saying that cause you’re a too kind child, Hidekuni,’ he brought his palm up to cup Hidekuni’s cheek like he’s an adorable toddler, his face indulgent. ‘You’ve always been too kind. Careful don’t let some girl break your heart, okay,’

The word ‘child’ stabbed at something in him, making him frowned, and he wasn’t sure if his heart wasn’t already breaking then.

5.
Shirou was, and probably will always be, enthralled by Yonekuni. Hidekuni knew this because he’s not blind. Shirou’s eyes would follow Yonekuni’s towering form across rooms, swimming pools, universes. Sometimes they’d look thoughtful as he stared, but sometimes he’d looked up to see Yonekuni’s in his proximity and his eyes would widen before glazing over, and it’d never fail to make Hidekuni want to grip the boy by the chin and trained his eyes back at him.

Apparently they talked when in school. He’d heard classmates of his brother’s refer to Shirou as Yonekuni’s ‘friend’. Hidekuni wasn’t really sure why that was, Yonekuni never said a word to Shirou at home. When he was younger and brasher, Hidekuni had confronted his brother once about his flippant attitude towards Shirou, and doesn’t he know he might hurt him?

Yonekuni had glared and said he couldn’t stand the smell of monkey, and no, he doesn’t care that their mother said he isn’t one, he still smells like one and it’s sickening.

When he turned around, Shirou was standing in the corridor, face deathly pale.

‘Your mother said to come down for dinner,’ he said, his voice quiet and only slightly wavering. Hidekuni tried to hold his hand, but the boy quickly excused himself and walked briskly to the helpers’ quarter.

6.
Hidekuni saw something very peculiar, once, while he customarily lazed around the garden under unpolluted night sky when he’s having trouble sleeping. He wasn’t expecting the rustling sound from beyond the bushes, and definitely wasn’t expecting to hear footsteps on the stepping stones. Yonekuni emerged from the bushes, seemingly unaware of his brother’s presence.

Hidekuni was about to call up to him when he noticed something’s wrong. Everything from the way he walked to the angle of his neck didn’t looked like the normal him. When he trained unfocused eyes at Hidekuni, the nekomata couldn’t help but flinched. His eyes looked glassy, like too still water, and he’s breathing strangely, every muscle in his body seemingly taut like it might snap any second now.

Hidekuni only ever saw his brother like that once, when they were young children, and his mother had smothered the mizuchi with layers upon layers of blankets. He snarled when Hidekuni stood to close, and his mother calmed him before he could panic.

His brother’s a bit sick, she said. He’s in a state when his animal now overruled his higher brain function and he’s running mostly on animal instinct. We’ll keep him warm and dehydrated and he’ll be right as rain again, she’d smiled reassuringly. It’s a rare heavyweight thing, apparently.

Hidekuni was contemplating waking up mother to tell her Yonekuni’s having ‘episodes’ again, but the mizuchi was already making his way inside the house.

7.
Hidekuni saw said peculiar thing one more time, Yonekuni in one of his ‘episodes’ stalking away from the solarium in the middle of the night. He stood still while looking at his brother’s retreating figure, and that’s when he heard it; a shuffling sound from inside the solarium. Curiosity piqued, he entered the glassy enclosure, his feet carrying him to the sound of gasping breaths.

There at the end of the solarium where mother placed her divans, Shirou knelt on top of white sheets, the moonlight basking his pale skin in ethereal colors. He was crying, and his heaving chest looked porcelain-like under the starlit sky, accentuating the dip of his tapered waist, the smudged shadows decorating his hip bones and collar bones. There were what Hidekuni recognized as palm-shaped bruises on his skin, some looked old and fading, but the ones on his inner thighs looked raw and angry.

He could barely concentrate on those things, though, because Shirou’s ears stood silvery and proud against his silvery hair, and soft, luxurious-looking tail flared from behind him, glimmering in the dark. His scent was heady, fertile, and cloying in the air, and Hidekuni wanted nothing more than to stroke aside that tail and inspect his lovely, fragrant entrance, surely ready to be seeded.

He had to shook his head a few times to be rid himself of the hypnotizing scent before he made his presence known to Shirou, who flinched and yanked the sheets up to his neck. He jerked back slightly when Hidekuni tried to touch him—and boy did that hurt—and Hidekuni had to make soothing, shushing noises and spoke to him with a quiet voice before he could be coaxed to put on the clothes that was discarded around the divan, and before he was calm enough to talk.

8.
It was his graduation gift for himself, Shirou said. Hidekuni looked at him in puzzlement, not knowing in the slightest what the –apparently- inujinnin was talking about. Shirou smiled that heartbreakingly self-deprecating smile of his and asked, if he were to tell Hidekuni everything, would he please not hate him for it?

Hidekuni shook his head, vehement, the concept of hating Shirou something he’d never understand nor entertain.

It’s the swimming club, Shirou started. It’s clear that Yonekuni loved being in the swimming club, loved being competitive, the water-element in his animal basking in the feel of water, but it’s also endangering him. Shirou explained to him about body temperatures, things Hidekuni learned in passing when he was a child, and how it brought out Yonekuni’s conditions. And for some reason, he came to Shirou for warmth.

Hidekuni’s fist was turning white as he imagined his brother leeching onto Shirou’s heat, entering it, surrounding himself with it, imprinting Shirou’s lovely scent with his own.

The first time was- Shirou was sure he was dreaming. Sure that in reality Yonekuni would never spare a glance at him, let alone claim him like that. But it might as well be a dream, for he then found out that once Yonekuni managed to keep his animal in control again, he remembers nothing of their encounter.

And that should've been a wiser place to stop the ludicrousness.

But Shirou found it hard to stop. He found it hard to say no to Yonekuni’s insistent touches, and even though his eyes were glassy and impenetrable as he breached him, it was still better than feeling invisible.

‘Tonight is the last time, though,’ Shirou said, voice still raspy from crying. ‘We’ve graduated. I’m still unsure where I’d go, but Jiisan had been saving up. If I take a couple of part-time works, I can go to Tokyo for my study and I’ll never have to see Yonekuni again.’ He smiled, though it didn’t reach his teary eyes. ‘It’s better that way. Then I can stop pining for someone I could never have.’ Hidekuni wanted to ask him, if that’s what he really feels, then why does it look like he’s about to fall apart. Like any minute now, he’ll shatter into smithereens.

That was when Hidekuni knew, that the tears wasn’t for the things Yonekuni did to him. It wasn’t even about his guilt that he’s convinced he’s taking advantage of Yonekuni’s state. No, he’s crying for far simpler reason.

He’s crying because it’s the last night.

Slowly, carefully, Hidekuni gathered Shirou’s shaking form into his arm, allowing himself to breath in the scent of his hair.

‘Please let me help,’ he whispered. ‘Please let me talk to Dad. If it’s London, he knows all the right people.’ There’s a lump in his throat now, because Shirou was shaking even harder, and he could feel fresh tears seeping into his shirt. ‘You deserve the best things, you’re the most precious in the world, Shirou…’ the inujinnin raised his head at that. I love you, Hidekuni didn’t say.

‘You’ve always been too kind, Hidekuni,’ he tearfully said, his palm cupping the nekomata’s cheek again.

‘Then make up for my kindness.’ Hidekuni insisted. ‘Let me do this. Let me help you.’

Shirou searched his face, his eyes trained for a few long moments before he seemingly found what he searched for and nodded faintly.

‘Okay?’

He nodded again, silver hair still glimmering under the moonlight. ‘Okay,’ he whispered.

Hidekuni held him close like that until the fell asleep and woke up to a golden dawn and morning dews.

9.
Hidekuni looked at the piece of paper he held in his hand. He knew he made the right decision to get off on Fulham Broadway. Coming out of the underground and making his way to the King’s Road, he couldn’t help but chuckle when he noticed several messages in his phone.

I still think we should’ve prepared you a car and a chauffeur, one message said.

I’m fine, Mum. He typed quickly. You can’t keep chaperoning me every time I’m in London, I think I’m getting the hang of the tube.

Hidekuni can perfectly imagine the distaste in Maximillian’s fair face with the idea of his precious son in public transportation. His Dad will reason with him though, so Hidekuni knew not to worry.

The next message made his smile grow wider.

The one on the left. Red door. Piles and piles of books on the display. You won’t miss it.

Hidekuni started looking around for the café when he felt he’s reaching the right neighborhood, and, sure enough, saw the ornate red door underneath the café’s name etched on the wall in cursive writing. Somebody was sitting on the table beside the window, a cup of something warm looking in his hand and an opened book in front of him.

Hidekuni’s pretty sure he can spot that glimmering silver hair in a crowd.

A smile already in place, he put his hand on the red door’s handle and pushed it open. Shirou’s open smile greeted him, before they pulled each other into a hug.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Shirou said, earnest, and Hidekuni knew he could trust it.

‘I’ve missed you too.’ He replied, and leaned forward carefully slowly, giving Shirou time to move away if he wanted to, before capturing his red lips in a sweet kiss.

When he pulled back, Shirou was still smiling.

‘I have all these stuff planned for you,’ he said excitedly, and started prattling on, breathless, about where he wanted to take Hidekuni and what he wanted him to see. Hidekuni mostly just wanted to kiss him again, but the inujinnin’s excitement was contagious.

‘London’s been good to you,’ Hidekuni mused out loud, halting Shirou’s stream of praise for a production in the Young Vic.

Shirou shook his head.

‘No,’ he said with a soft smile. ‘You’ve been good to me.’

Hidekuni allowed his breath to get caught, allowed his heart to expand, so much that his chest felt tight.

Shirou leaned over the table and kissed him again, softly, before sitting back down, blushing at his own straightforwardness.

‘So tell me what London has to offer,’ Hidekuni said through the tightness in his chest.

It felt like happiness.

Maybe he’s allowed to hope now.

Stop.