Chapter Text
The last train rattled past Sixth Street just before midnight, its lights smearing gold across the wet pavement. Neon signs hummed softly in the cold, and paper streamers—leftovers from someone else’s celebration—clung to the corners of lampposts. New Eridu never really slept, but tonight it felt like it was holding its breath.
Wise leaned against the railing of the rooftop, hands tucked into his coat sleeves, watching the city below. From up here, the chaos softened into something almost gentle: distant laughter, the echo of music, the faint crackle of fireworks being tested too early.
“You’re going to freeze if you keep pretending that jacket is warm,” Harumasa said, stepping out onto the roof with two steaming cups.
Wise smiled without turning. “Says the guy who insisted we come up here.”
Harumasa laughed, the sound easy and bright, and bumped his shoulder against Wise’s as he passed him a cup. “Details. Besides, it’s tradition. New Year’s Eve should be spent somewhere high enough to see everything change.”
Wise took the cup—sweet, spiced tea—and finally looked at him. Harumasa’s dark hair caught the light from the city, eyes sharp and warm at the same time, like he was always balancing between duty and something softer he rarely showed to anyone else.
“Yanagi didn’t drag you back in tonight?” Wise asked.
“Nope. Miracles happen.” Harumasa leaned on the railing beside him. “They told me to ‘rest and reflect.’ I think they were afraid I’d bring fireworks to the office.”
Wise snorted. “You absolutely would.”
“Only the safe kind,” Harumasa said, grinning. Then his expression softened. “I wanted tonight to be just us.”
For a moment, the noise of the city seemed to fade. Wise felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest—the quiet, steady comfort of being chosen. Of being someone Harumasa came back to when the missions ended and the adrenaline wore off.
They stood together, shoulders brushing, watching the countdown timer flicker on a massive screen across the street. Ten minutes.
“Do you ever think about how weird our lives are?” Wise asked. “Hollows, and Ethereals… and somehow we still get nights like this.”
Harumasa hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah. That’s why I like them. It means the world hasn’t completely gone off the rails yet.”
Below them, someone started chanting numbers too early, laughing when they lost track. Fireworks burst in a premature bloom of red and white.
Wise glanced sideways. “You’re unusually sentimental tonight.”
Harumasa smirked. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation.”
They counted down the last minute together, voices low, breath fogging in the cold air.
Five—
Harumasa reached for Wise’s hand, fingers slipping easily between his, like they’d done it a thousand times before.
Four—
Wise squeezed back, grounding himself in the familiar warmth.
Three—
The city seemed to lean forward.
Two—
Harumasa turned toward him fully, eyes bright.
One—
—The sky exploded.
Fireworks roared to life, painting New Eridu in color—gold, violet, electric blue—reflections dancing across glass and steel. Cheers rose from the streets below, a tide of sound that washed over the rooftop.
“Happy New Year,” Harumasa said, voice just loud enough to be heard.
“Happy New Year,” Wise replied.
Harumasa leaned in, pressing a soft, unhurried kiss to Wise’s lips. It tasted like tea and cold air and something steady and real. Wise kissed him back, briefly forgetting the city, the dangers, the endless planning—everything except this moment.
When they pulled apart, Harumasa rested his forehead against Wise’s. “Another year survived.”
“Another year together,” Wise said.
“Even better.”
They stayed on the rooftop until the fireworks dwindled and the city settled into its new rhythm. Eventually, Harumasa draped his coat around Wise’s shoulders anyway, pretending it was just to keep the tea warm.
As they headed back inside, hand in hand, Wise glanced once more at the city below—new, old, broken, beautiful.
Whatever the next year brought, he knew one thing for sure.
They’d face it together.