Chapter Text
Yasuhiro strolled into the dormitory warehouse, whistling to himself, a shopping bag held loose in his hand from his evening out. His head was lost in the clouds like usual, so he heard Kiyotaka's cries before he saw him. The unexpected sound made him jump, and he whipped his head around to see Kiyotaka sobbing against one of the shelves.
“Whoa! Hey, dude, ya oughta choose where you cry more carefully! I totally thought you were some kinda wailing snack banshee!”
Taka sniffled and raised his head from the crook of his elbow. Rivers of tears were streaming down his cheeks. “S-snack banshee…?”
“Yeah. Like, the lady spirit that screams when your food's about to expire. It's a Celtic thing,” he said, as if it meant anything at all in this context.
Taka could only keep himself together long enough to listen to his words, breaking back into blubbering once he finished.
“Dude…” He placed his free hand on his shoulder. “It's not like you to hide when you cry. You're usually pretty out in the open with it. What's going on?”
“I wasn't hiding on purpose,” he wept, “I came in here to… r-restock my pencils… and…” He couldn't quite finish the thought, swallowing some phlegm in his throat.
“C'mon, why don't we getcha somewhere nicer to cry than some old warehouse, huh? We can go to my room and talk all about it and hopefully chill. That sound good to you?”
Taka wiped his face on his sleeve and nodded.
Yasuhiro smiled. “Good, good.” It faltered a bit. “Just, uh, step aside a liiiiittle bit. I gotta get my chips.” Leave it to Hiro to spoil a touching moment.
After he awkwardly wormed around Taka and picked out his snack, the pair walked to his room. He struck a match and lit up some incense, the scent of lavender slowly wafting through the air. They both sat on the bed, while Yasuhiro fished out the contents of his shopping bag. It was a vinyl record, which he set up on his player and began to play. It was an ambient guitar track, the kind made to meditate to.
“Is all of that really necessary…?”
“Yeah, to help put you at ease.” He tore open his bag of chips. “Y'want some? They're cheddar and sour cream.”
He shook his head.
Hiro shrugged. “Suit yourself, man.” He popped a couple into his mouth and munched them up. He spoke, muffled through his mouthful, “Now tell me, what's got you all bummed out?”
Kiyotaka cringed at those appalling manners, but was far too worn out to lecture. “Well, it's as I said. I went to get some pencils when I got a phone call. It was my father.”
“Oh, I get it.” He cleaned some cheese dust from his fingertips (by slurping it up, of course). “And he said somethin' crappy, huh?”
“Not at all. We had a lovely conversation. I caught him up on my week, and he caught me up on his. We've done it ever since I started at Hope's Peak.”
“Then why are you upset?”
Taka sighed. “I speak to my father regularly about Mondo. I… gush about him, really. And when I did that tonight, he told me that he really wished that I would introduce the two of them sometime. And that hope of his broke my heart, because I want it too! I want the two people I'm closest with in the world to be close to each other!” At the peak of his rant, he flopped backwards, laying flat against the mattress. “But it can never happen!”
“Sure it could! You just gotta wait for him to get a weekend that's free.” He shrugged and added slyly, “If you fork over a couple bucks, I could look into that for ya…”
Taka scoffed, annoyed that Hiro was trying to swindle him into a psychic reading for something so mundane. “It's not a scheduling conflict, Hiro. It's a conflict of egos.”
“Huh?”
He sat back up and clarified, “My father and I are very similar. He's a police officer and where my ruthless sense of justice comes from. As you can imagine, he's much more set in his ways than I was when we all first met. If he met Mondo…” He glanced off, blinking as more tears welled up. “Well, I don't like to think about it. It worries me much too much, all the possibilities…”
Now Yasuhiro could see the whole picture. When Taka and Mondo first met, they were at each other's throats constantly. They'd almost gotten physical in their conflict before turning to the sauna contest that kindled their friendship. Somebody like Taka, but older and a cop, coming face-to-face with a temperamental gang leader? Oh, it was an accident waiting to happen…
No, no. That's not quite right. It was more like a ticking time bomb, one strapped to Kiyotaka's chest where he knew the exact combination of components that would make it detonate, and all he could do to offset the inevitable explosion was spring the clock forward. Poor kid. He really needed something to give him peace of mind…
Yasuhiro hopped off of the bed, much to Kiyotaka's confusion, and rustled through his drawers.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for— ah-ha! Here we go!” He pulled something out, intentionally angling his body so Taka couldn't see it before turning around and hiding it behind his back outright. “Gimme your hand.”
He did so, and Yasuhiro placed the object in his palm. The sight of it only made Kiyotaka's confusion grow, as it seemed very out-of-line with Yasuhiro's eclectic and expensive taste. It was merely a smooth, round stone. There were no embedded jewels or anything of the sort that would point to any mystical qualities, either. It was drab gray with a white band running across it. As he turned it over in his hands, he saw that the band perfectly circled the entire rock unbroken, but that was all. It was… shockingly ordinary.
“A… rock?”
“No, a stone. A wishing stone, to be specific. It's another Celtic thing… I think…” He rubbed his stubbled chin for a moment, uncertain of the precise folkloric origin. “Er, point is, you can wish on it. And if you do it right, your wish comes true.”
After a beat, he looked back up at Hiro and whimpered, “Are you making fun of me? For wanting something so impossible?”
“No, no! I swear it, dude! I just think it'll make you feel better to do something about it. And, like, making a wish is something, even if it's small and may seem a bit silly. You need a little whimsy in your life, y'know?”
The more Taka thought about it, the more surprisingly correct Yasuhiro sounded. Kiyotaka needed a moment to recover, to reset, before he could get on to the rest of his night. Perhaps a little whimsy would do him some good…
“Okay. I'll try it. So… how do I use it?”
Yasuhiro sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Well, you're already off to a pretty good start. The first step is to hold it. Then, you gotta trace your finger all the way around the white line on the stone. And as you do, think really, really hard about what you want.”
Kiyotaka did so, pressing his thumb close to one of the edges at the top and slowly dragging it along the line. He turned it with his other hand, careful not to break contact with the white band for even a second. The fact that he was living up to his family name so perfectly in this strange ritual was not lost on him, but he refrained from commenting on it. After all, he was too busy focusing on his wish to let it distract him.
I wish for my father and Mondo to be able to meet one another… without any fights or volatile feelings between them. I wish for my father to see what a great person Mondo really is, despite his criminal record. I wish that Mondo would see my father for the loving man he is beneath his hard-boiled exterior. I wish that each of them could understand why I love the other so much…
The circle was nearly complete. It would take just a little bit more travel for his thumb to reach the spot where it began. As the end neared, Kiyotaka wrapped up his longings in a neat little bow.
I wish that the two of them would just… get out of their own heads!
The thumb at last returned to its original place, and Kiyotaka could swear he felt a vibration thrum through the stone in that instant. He flinched his finger away, but still held the stone firm.
“Okay,” Yasuhiro spoke up again at last, “Now, you gotta throw it into a body of water. Traditionally, it's the ocean or a lake, buuuuut we do have a pool upstairs…”
Taka was horrified at the suggestion. “I am not doing that! It could break the tiles! And breaking school property, it's… inexcusable! I would have to turn in my armband!” He cried, “Isn't there any other way?!”
There were several spaced-out blinks from Yasuhiro before something seemed to click in his mind. “Oooh, yeah! The boring way! I nearly forgot about it because back when I got the stone, I was planning to charge for the whole wishing thing, and that way would've made it hard to get my inventory back… even harder than diving into the sea.”
“And what is that?”
“Giving it to somebody else.”
Kiyotaka picked the latter option, and knew exactly who he would pass the rock along to. After thanking Yasuhiro for his help and wishing him goodnight, he marched to his neighboring dormitory, ringing the bell until the resident answered.
“Bro? What's up?” Mondo's lashes fluttered as he scanned Taka's face. “Were you crying again? Yer eyes’re puffy…”
“I was, but I'm alright now. Hiro comforted me.”
“Damn, Hiro? How much did it cost ya?” He joked.
“Not a penny!” He replied, cracking a big smile. “And I got a wish out of it, so it was quite the steal!”
Mondo scoffed at the idea. “Of course that's the kinda crank shit Hiro would comfort people with…”
“It may be crankery, but I appreciated the sentiment,” he admitted. “And I wanted to extend that sentiment to you!” He opened his hand to reveal the wishing stone.
Mondo tilted his head. “Wazzat?”
“It's a magic rock that grants wishes, apparently.” He turned over the very plain-looking stone with his fingers, then held it out in offering. “And in order for it to work, I need to pass it along to someone else. Aren't you a lucky duck?”
He took it with a smirk, knowing it was more of a cheeky show of goodwill between pals than anything serious on Kiyotaka's end.
“What do you think you'll wish for?”
“I dunno. Can I wish for anything?”
“Well, I wished for a pretty outlandish occurrence…” He confessed.
“Then I'd wish to already be the best damn carpenter in the world, so you don't have to patch up these stupid nicks I give myself just tryna figure out a carving knife,” he said, showing him his bandaged hand for emphasis.
Ah, yes, Mondo's hand. He had been practicing his whittling as Kiyotaka cleaned the classroom that afternoon. It had annoyed Taka a little bit because of the stray wood shavings making his job harder, but he was too proud of him making steps towards his desired career path to harp on it too much. Any criticism he did have was swept away once Mondo accidentally cut himself. Kiyotaka dropped everything and rushed him to the nurse's office.
Since it was after school hours, no one was in, so Taka took matters into his own hands. It was in doing so that Mondo complimented his first aid skills, and Kiyotaka mentioned his father was the one who taught them to him. That got him talking about his father once again (while intentionally omitting his career, as usual). Both Ishimarus were so busy that they hardly had time to spare for one another, but his father was always sure to make what little they had count. He would support him in whatever way he was able— making meals when he had the energy to cook, holding ice packs to the bruises his bullies left him, helping him tie his shoelaces when he first got his boots…
Hearing all of this brought Mondo to say he'd like to meet his father someday, which was half of what prompted all of this in the first place. The other half being, of course, the phone call with his father afterwards in which he said the same thing about Mondo.
Kiyotaka's jovial expression faltered a bit at the reminder. In reply, Mondo tried to alleviate his presumed concerns. “Hey. You weren't cryin’ about me, were you? ‘Cause I get banged up way worse than this any other day of the week. Didn't I tell you ‘bout that time I got swarmed by all those bastard cops? They beat the hell outta me and I dished it back double!”
And there Mondo went, unknowingly confirming the biases that had actually brought Kiyotaka to tears with a grin on his face. Still, Taka couldn't fault him for it, considering the sometimes alarming stories he heard of his past encounters. He shook his head and said with resigned amusement, “Yes, yes you did…”
He clapped him on the shoulder. “So you don't gotta worry so much, bro! I can handle anything life throws at me!”
“I have no doubt about that.” He really didn't. From what he knew about Mondo, life had put him through the wringer, and despite being squeezed and squeezed for so long he withstood the pressure surprisingly well. Sure, it left him with a beast of a temper, but one couldn't expect to outlive their guardian and then be saddled with their legacy without some scars. Kiyotaka understood that all too well— his father lived through the same thing. It was one of the main things he admired about the two of them, and one of the fronts he knew they would relate on, if they would only get over their inevitable bad first impressions…
Even though Taka was corroborating his own boasting, Mondo smiled shyly and rubbed his nape. “Aw, thanks.” After a beat, he let his hand fall and sighed, “Well, I oughta not keep you long. I know this little detour is eating into yer nighttime routine, so…”
That comment prompted Kiyotaka to check his watch. “Ah! You're right! I should be winding down for bed right about now!”
“Like clockwork…” Mondo muttered fondly under his breath.
Kiyotaka stood straight and tall and cleared his throat. “Mondo Owada, I wish you a goodnight. Rest well.”
“You too, bro.”
“And I really mean that!” He said, pointing in his standard, lecturing manner. “Proper sleep is very important to maintain your health and heal your injuries!”
“Hey, hey, I believe you!” Mondo said, grinning and raising his hands in mock defeat. “Don't worry. I'll hit the sack soon and come tomorrow morning, I'll be a new man. You ain't gotta cry anymore tears about this stuff.”
Kiyotaka's gaze traced the stone, pinned in Mondo's right palm by his ring and pinky fingers. “I do hope you're right.” It flicked back to lavender eyes. “I'll see you then.”
Mondo used his already upright pointer and middle fingers to salute. “See ya tomorrow, bro.”
The rest of the evening passed by without incident. Mondo stashed the silly rock in his coat pocket, hung the coat on his chair, and strolled into his bathroom. He once again engaged in the Sisyphean task of his grooming methods, rinsing the spray out of his hair in the sink so he could spritz and blow dry it all back into place tomorrow morning after his shower proper. After towelling off, he stripped to his boxers and flopped into bed.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, the other half of Kiyotaka's cause for concern arrived back home— late, of course, from a long workday. He threw his trenchcoat on the rack and shuffled through the supply closet of an apartment. He plucked a cup of instant noodles from the cabinet.
And remember to take the damn flavor packet out this time, Takaaki reminded himself after peeling away the film. The last time he cooked noodles under this level of fatigue, he nearly blew up their microwave with that little bit of foil. And he certainly couldn't afford a new microwave…
After the beep, he barely let it sit in its bubbling chicken-ish brine before stuffing his face. He didn't care about the mouth burns, he just wanted to get dinner over with so he could finally go to sleep.
He knew if his boy was here, he would have something harsh yet fair to say about it. Perhaps something like… Father! You shouldn't eat such garbage food! Your body needs proper nourishment if you don't want it to give out on you!
He missed those precocious scoldings, but he knew Kiyotaka was putting them to good use. Hope's Peak Academy's student body was crawling with all sorts of unsavory characters, if enrollment records were to be believed. Kiyotaka had his work cut out for him, keeping them all in line…
Come to think of it, weren't there rumors of one of those students with an illegal talent being part of his son's class? That made him take pause, a noodle hanging off his lip for a moment until he slurped it up. The thought of Kiyotaka being isolated among such company put him on edge...
Though… he supposed Taka wasn't isolated anymore. He had that dear friend of his he made at the school— his first ever. This person was an enigma to Takaaki, but he heard such glowing testimony from his son that he almost wanted to trust this stranger…
Almost. He still had an inkling that there was something off about the whole affair, considering how Kiyotaka clammed up when the idea of him introducing the two of them was suggested. Then again, that may just be him being paranoid. Being constantly scrutinized due to your family history had that effect on a person. Surely, the fine young man Kiyotaka spoke so highly of was completely above board, and he would protect Taka from members of that distasteful lot!
Takaaki settled down for the night as these musings swirled around in his mind. Soon, like that mysterious teen he so wondered about, he fell fast asleep.
And as he slept, Takaaki dreamed.
He found himself walking through a monochrome expanse, a foggy sky and gray, featureless earth surrounding him on all sides. He walked down a straight white path that stretched endlessly to the horizon.
Then, a spark. Color flashed from a distant spot on the path— a soft, pastel purple. It walked towards him, soon glowing as steadily as its pace. As it came closer, it became clear that it was in the shape of a figure, though not quite a human one. It was humanoid, but crafted from stark edges and facets like a precious, glimmering jewel.
It also became clear that it would not stop or step aside. And neither would Takaaki. No matter how much he willed it, he couldn't cease his march or stray an inch from the path. He couldn't call out to the being ahead of him to move out of the way either, despite his efforts. They were simply two unstoppable forces, and their meeting was inevitable.
That was all he could think as it drew near, pressing against him, its edges and corners piercing his skin. This was inevitable.
Then, just as soon as it appeared, the gemstone figure vanished. Takaaki stumbled against the newly open air, landing on his knees. Finally, he stopped.
The black-and-white world was now drenched in purple hues. The sky was clear and dappled with stars. Betwixt every star ran white lines, like those used to visualize constellations in books. It reminded Takaaki of the geometric, gem-like surface of that figure.
Just as he recognized this, the structure started to change. The broad prisms started to shrink, the distance between the stars diminishing rapidly. He realized that the comparison to the figure was all too right. The sky was not a sky at all, but the facets of a gemstone as seen from the inside.
With that observation, the surrounding landscape disappeared. All that was left were the facets and the stars, closing in on him. He felt the air grow stale and thin as his breath heaved. The stars had pupils now, watching and staring and judging him as he suffocated. He banged his fists against the shiny purple panels as they inched closer and closer, but they wouldn't break. What little strength he had was nothing against the ceaseless pressure the jewel placed upon him. He was going to be crushed. And it felt… inevitable.
Mondo had a nightmare, too. It started very similarly to Takaaki's, in fact— the same gray world, the same white path that he couldn't stop walking, and a strange inhuman figure heading straight towards him.
His figure was not made of diamond, however. It was made out of red sandstone, striped and craggy and naturally modeled into its odd shape like those rock formations of the American southwest. It scraped him even more harshly than the diamond man did Takaaki when they finally met. Those refined edges and points were replaced with sandpaper-like grit, making a thousand little cuts upon his flesh instead of a few deep, bold punctures and slices.
In a burst of red dust, he fell into a world of arid, warm tones. Before him stood a giant pillar of the red sandstone, with steep sides and a squared-off top— a butte, as the technical term went. The sun shone harshly all around, but the shadow the butte cast was dark and chilled him to the bone. He backed away from the ominously looming tower of earth, but couldn't get far. He struck a small boulder, its height reaching about eye level once he turned to get a look at it. It stood right in the middle of the path, and was only a few frustrating feet away from being out of the butte's shadow. Unfortunately, as before, he was incapable of straying from the path, so he was trapped between both masses of stone.
Then he heard a sound— distant, at first, but swiftly approaching. Rushing water. A second later, it arrived. The landscape around him flooded with frothy currents, like the river rapids that carved grand canyons. Clinging to the boulder saved him from being swept away, and luckily the swell wasn't so overpowering as to prevent him from keeping his head above the surface (albeit strong enough to make it a struggle). Still, his worries were far from over. As the water beat against the base of the butte, cracks began to form. Chunks of stone started to tumble down into the waves. Holding the little boulder for dear life, Mondo watched as the slab of rock came hurtling towards him, helpless to do anything to stop his unavoidable, inevitable fate…