Work Text:
“Aren’t you a little too old to be believing in Santa?”
Samatoki, still grousing beneath his costume beard, hat, and overall ridiculous get-up, shot him a look and snarled. “Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “I don’t want to hear this from you.”
Ichiro, feeling cheeky and wholly unthreatened, snickered. “You’ve got the white hair and all, Samatoki-san,” he said, “but I dunno. Red’s never been your color.”
“Okay, that’s it!” the gangster roared. “I let the lil’ pipsqueak dress me up one time and this is what that gets me. See if I wear another one of his shitty costumes again!”
“Hey, not so loud, man! You’ll hurt Ramuda-san’s feelings – ”
“Fuck his feelings! He ain't even here!”
“It’s Christmas!” Ichiro tried again.
“And?! What about my fuckin’ feelings?”
Ichiro raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “Samatoki-san,” he said, placating and gentle, as if he were trying to soothe a wild animal. All it did was piss Samatoki off more. “Look. Wasn’t it you who lost that bet? And weren’t you the one who set the terms heading in? I don’t know what you’re bitching about now, but – ”
“Bitching? Say that to me again when you’re the one who’s gotta stand for fuckin’ hours –”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad – ”
“ – sticking his needle all over you an’ shit – ”
“Samatoki-san, please – ”
“He was laughing, you damn brat. The fuckin’ asshole was laughin’ at me.”
“Yeah, well…” Ichiro started. “You do look kinda funny.”
“Will you shut the fuck up?!”
“Look, will a smoke break help?” Ichiro said, his voice now bordering on desperate. “Let’s take five outside so you can cool off.”
“Cool off,” Samatoki sneered, even as he was already tearing the pretend-beard off his face and stalking towards the exit. “I don’t need cooling off.”
Ichiro, not missing a beat, picked the beard up off the floor and placed it neatly back on the little living room table. “Whatever you say, man.”
“Are you coming or what?”
Ichiro grinned and hurried after Samatoki.
It was the afternoon before Christmas Eve and here he was, spending the time with Samatoki in Ramuda’s Empty Candy office. It was closed for the holidays and it was so far just the two of them there. Ramuda had entrusted them with the place while he stepped out to pick up something important, some missing last piece he thought he still needed to round off his yearly seasonal collection.
Of course, he said it was a seasonal collection, but what it really was, was a small Dirty Dawg get-together.
Although…
“Betcha he’s out gettin’ the Doc while we gotta wait like bums back here,” was how Samatoki had put it.
While it hadn’t been difficult to get Ichiro’s help for the set-up – he was, after all, always willing to help – it was Samatoki who proved to be the more difficult ask. It was clear to everyone else, though, that the gangster was only playing hard to get and would have said yes right away anyway.
Still, it didn’t seem enough to quell his extreme annoyance with the situation he found himself in now, corny Santa costume and all.
Ichiro had to hold his snort in as soon as he stepped out into the side alley. Samatoki, still in his Santa get-up minus the beard, made for a very amusing sight leaning against the wall and puffing away angrily at his cigarette.
Samatoki clapped eyes on him and sighed. “Don’t you even start,” he said, already knowing what was running through Ichiro’s mind.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Won’t hear a peep outta me, Samatoki-san.”
“That’s Samatoki-sama to you, dipshit,” he retorted, more out of reflex than anything. “Don’t see why he didn’t just get the Doc to wear all this bullshit…”
“Ah, but that’s because Jakurai-san didn’t make the bet, right?” Ichiro said, just to be cheeky. “You did.”
“Shaddup,” Samatoki huffed. “I know that already. Damn brat.”
“You know, maybe you should make it a new year’s resolution to get better insults.”
Samatoki guffawed. “Ha! No thanks,” he said. “Don’t want ya runnin’ to the Doc cryin’ about how I hurt your feelings or some shit.”
Ichiro shook his head, not the least bit fazed by the dig. “Come on, man,” he answered. “I’m not the one throwing a bitchfit out here about how stupid I look.”
“Heh.” Samatoki bared his teeth, smiling. He was appreciating the banter and wasn’t bothering to hide his approval, but what came out of his mouth was a neutral, “Knew your true feelings’d come out sooner or later. Y’really think this is stupid, huh? Wait ‘till Ramuda gets a hold’a that.”
Ichiro snorted. “With all that shit you’ve been saying to me ever since the day started?” he challenged. “I’d be stupid to worry.”
“Yeah,” Samatoki said. “Yeah, you would be.”
They eased into a comfortable silence. Ichiro leaned against the wall to settle himself beside Samatoki. He smiled when he noticed the gangster angling his head out towards the street so he could blow his smoke out the other side.
“Thanks.”
“Tch.”
He tilted his head upwards and felt the afternoon sun on his face. It was beautiful holiday weather: the warm sun, its gentle warmth, and just a nice day overall despite the chill. Ichiro had never really been one to get excited for the holidays, but he had to admit there was something there about Christmas that was special.
Things just felt… more peaceful, somehow. Times were tough and everyone was really working hard to get by, but Christmas was… well, it felt more like an exhale, he thought. It was a real stretch of time people took to rest and they took advantage of it. It wasn’t hard to feel lighter seeing families out and about this time of year, even if the sight nagged at something in his heart he wasn’t quite ready to face yet.
And with Samatoki and the others here now, he could admit to himself that he at least wasn’t going to be alone for the holidays. The darkness inside there would probably never go away, but his new friends did help lighten that burden. Whether Ichiro wanted to admit it to himself or not.
He was glad he had them to lean on this year.
He chanced a glance at Samatoki again and felt something warm rise within him. He wanted to pass it on somehow, make things feel just a little bit all right for the gangster, the same way he so often did for Ichiro.
“This, uh…” he started, hesitant. “This… this costume thing. You know it’ll only be for one day, right?”
Samatoki slid his eyes over to Ichiro. He looked ready to retort, but held himself back when he saw how earnest the boy was being. “What?” he said instead.
“This thing Ramuda-san’s making you do,” Ichiro continued. “It’ll only be this one time. You don’t have to do anything he says after.”
“Like I don’t know that,” Samatoki said. “Little fucker thinks he can boss me around after this, he's got another thing coming.”
Ichiro laughed. “Yeah, see! Besides, it’ll be over before you know it. Soon, they’ll take all the decorations down and everything’ll be back to normal. Right?”
“Hmm.” Samatoki squinted his eyes, like he was really thinking this through.
It gave Ichiro the courage to go on. “And it’s not like… it’s not like it’s gonna be a forever thing, right? Christmas only comes ‘round once a year anyway so it can’t be that big a deal. It’s fun for families and all, I guess, but that’s all it really is. Just one day on the calendar.”
Now Samatoki was frowning. He turned to face Ichiro and it was easy to see that there was something he’d said that he didn’t like. “The fuck d’you mean by that?”
Ichiro shrugged. “I mean, it’s just…” He trailed off. Shifted his feet and adjusted his weight, filling in the silence to stall and not because he was still finding the words he needed. “I mean, it’s only one day, right? Christmas, that is.”
“We don’t have to be makin’ a big stink about it, is what you mean,” Samatoki said.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” Samatoki sighed and clicked his tongue. “Fuck this. I need another smoke,” he grumbled, his cigarette still half-finished in his mouth.
“Sure,” Ichiro said, almost laughing. “Forget I said anything, all right? I only said that to make you feel better.”
“Asshole. Did I look like I needed cheering up?”
“You sure don’t look too happy dressed up as Santa, I’ll tell you that.”
“Shut up. This ain’t about me,” Samatoki said. “The fuck did you mean, it’s only one day?”
Ichiro blinked. “Oh,” he said, surprised that Samatoki was the type to take this sort of thing seriously. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Yes, you did.”
It was a challenge, plain as day. It put Ichiro on the defensive, still unable to understand why Samatoki was getting so worked up over something like this. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Samatoki returned. “Look, what’s this really about?”
“It’s nothing.”
“No, it’s not,” Samatoki continued to insist. “Talkin’ all this crap to me about Christmas… What, you think you’re too good to celebrate it now? Huh?”
“Shut up! You know that’s not what I meant!”
“Then stop talkin’ about it like you ain’t gonna be a part of it!”
The statement found its way home. Ichiro, who’d been about to say something else back, was only able to stare at him, frozen and stunned by the outburst.
Samatoki huffed, but he didn’t waste any time and continued. “Ichiro, you stupid, fucking – ” he started to say, but he cut himself off and shook his head. He growled, irritated, and yanked the cigarette out of his mouth and squashed it on the ground. And then, because he looked like he needed more time to collect himself, he grabbed his pack out of his pocket, fished a fresh stick out of the box, and lit it up.
It seemed to calm him down a bit.
Ichiro moved to protest the litter, but Samatoki beat him to the punch.
“Shut up,” he said. “I got it.” He picked up his discarded butt and shoved it into his pocket.
“Look, Samatoki-san – ”
“I said, shut up,” he said, not hearing it. “Listen to me. You’re not… unworthy to be celebratin’ Christmas with the rest of us. All right? You’re allowed to be happy and whatever the fuck else. It’s a special fuckin’ occasion, right? If you’re gonna be out here with me an’ Ramuda an’ the Doc, then don’t fuckin’ half-ass it.”
“I’m not half-assing anything,” Ichiro protested. “It’s just… It’s – everyone’s together, right? And it just makes me feel like I’m… like I’m by myself, or something. I guess. I don’t know!”
“You don’t think you have any room to feel happy with the rest of us. You motherfucker,” Samatoki said, but his voice had none of the roughness it had earlier. It even almost sounded… fond? The only reason why Ichiro hadn’t yet matched the gangster’s level of anger was because he was so confused about where the conversation was going.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be apologizing for.
Samatoki picked up on the discomfort and waved it away. “Look,” he said. “I’m not happy about any of it, too. Same with the others, maybe. I don’t know. But the important thing is, I’m not alone this year, am I? Even if Nemu’s still out there an’ even if your brothers are still out there – hell, even if the whole world’s out there, not giving a damn about any of us… we’re still here, ain’t we? I’m still here. If y’ever lose sight of anything, then at least don’t lose sight of that.”
Ichiro tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, which surprised him. When had that gotten there? And when had he even started tearing up?
Samatoki, ever respectful, averted his gaze and pretended not to notice. But he clapped a hand on his shoulder and grasped it with a tremendous grip. “Listen to me, Ichiro,” he said. “An’ listen good, ‘cos I’m only gonna say this once. I’m glad I got you with me this year. All right? After Sasara an’ – well, after everything… I didn’t think things were gonna…” He trailed off, then shook his head again. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that I’m glad it was you who stayed. You know, after all that.”
Ichiro shook his head too, but he was smiling. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, me too, Samatoki-san.” He reached for the hand still on his shoulder and squeezed it. “I’m glad it was you, too.”
“That’s it,” Samatoki said, approving. He pat his shoulder once more, then brought his hand up to Ichiro’s face and clapped it against his cheek.
It was an oddly intimate gesture, especially for the likes of Samatoki. This time, it was Ichiro who had to turn and avert his gaze. He swiped a finger under his nose, hoping it would dim the blush he was sure was lighting up his face.
Samatoki snorted and brought his hand back to his side. He took a deep, long drag and appraised Ichiro again. “I mean – shit, man, we can’t have someone like you givin’ up on fucking Christmas all of a sudden,” he said. “It just don’t make sense.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Shut up!” Samatoki said. But the blush was burning bright red on his face and he only shouted in a transparent attempt to cover it up. “It sounded better in my head!”
Ichiro laughed. He very graciously decided against teasing Samatoki for blushing. “Nah, but seriously, Samatoki-san,” he said once the laughter died down. “... Thanks.”
Samatoki, understanding the sincerity there, formed a loose fist and lightly tapped it against Ichiro’s chest. “Life ain’t fair by a longshot. That’s why we have to celebrate whatever we got left an’ go all-out. All the fuckin’ way, right? That’s how you win. That’s how you say ‘fuck you’ to everything that’s givin’ you a headache.”
Ichiro grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll remember that.”
Samatoki considered him for a long moment, then sighed and ruffled his hair. “Damn brat, giving me so much trouble,” he muttered under his breath. “You’d better remember all that too, ‘cos I ain’t saying that sappy shit again.”
Ichiro narrowed his eyes, about to rise back up against the bait – but suddenly, they weren’t alone anymore. Out in the street, footsteps came and stopped upon the asphalt. It got both him and Samatoki to turn towards the new arrival.
“Ichiro-kun? Samatoki-kun?”
It was Jakurai. Both of them sagged their shoulders in relief, not realizing they’d braced themselves for an impromptu street throwdown.
“Jakurai-san!” Ichiro greeted first.
Off to his side, Samatoki was hurrying to put out his cigarette, which caused him to grin. He was pretty sure the Doctor saw it too and just chose not to say anything.
“Ah, I thought it was you two,” Jakurai said. “I assume Amemura-kun is inside… ?”
“Eh?” Ichiro said. “I mean – no! He just left, said he needed to go – ”
“We thought he was with you, sensei,” Samatoki said in a fresh hurry, as if embarrassed that he hadn’t said anything to greet him yet.
Jakurai blinked at them both and glanced back down at his phone. “I see,” he said. “Well… since he has not gotten in touch with me yet, I assumed we were still pushing through with our original schedule. My work ended early today, so I thought I would drop in ahead of time so we can start the festivities.”
“It’s appreciated, Doc.”
“Yeah, the sooner we start, the sooner we can get Samatoki-san outta this costume.”
“Shut up, you!”
Jakurai gave him a once-over and chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry, Samatoki-kun. I think it looks rather charming on you,” he said. “Although I’m not entirely sure Amemura-kun will appreciate having his costume smell of nicotine when he gets it back.”
Samatoki flushed a bright red, but didn’t dwell on it. “Don’t worry about it!” he said. “But just for that, Doc, your first drink tonight’s on me.”
Jakurai waved a hand. “You need not put yourself through the trouble,” he said. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
“That’s what they all say at first!” Samatoki laughed and took the bag from Jakurai’s hands to carry it himself. “‘Sides, what’s Christmas without a little alcohol, right? It’ll be fun!”
“Samatoki-kun, I really must protest – ”
“Come on, Doc! Just one shot an’ then you can call it a night.”
“Oh, well, if you insist…”
Their voices faded as they stepped inside Empty Candy.
Ichiro, who’d been watching the exchange with some amusement, hung back a while to watch his friends go on ahead. He felt a quiet warmth settle over his heart then, but he steadfastly chose to ignore it. There would be time for that later. For now, he brought his hand up to his cheek, the one Samatoki had patted earlier, and allowed himself to linger in the warmth that feeling had left him with instead.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, grinning widely, then hurried to follow them in.