Chapter Text
[i]
The last thing Keisuke expects when he opens the door to Chifuyu's room is for Chifuyu to burst into tears at the sight of him.
"Baji-san?" Chifuyu whispers with an aching sort of hope. He's looking at Keisuke like Keisuke's a miracle—like there's something unreal about Keisuke showing up at his place so they can walk to school together—like they haven't been doing that for the past four years.
Worry knots his stomach. Keisuke crouches down in front of Chifuyu, hands hovering uncertainly. "Chifuyu, what's wrong?"
His response is a fresh wave of tears. The worry tips straight into alarm. Bullies? No big deal. A cinch. Barely a problem—in fact, most of the time, they're a win. Bullies, Keisuke can punch, and he delights in stomping assholes to the metaphorical curb, but you can't punch feelings.
Chifuyu sniffles, and then he reaches out and reels Keisuke in, actually hugging him. Chifuyu clings tightly to Keisuke like he's afraid of Keisuke vanishing into thin air.
"Okay," Keisuke says as he hugs Chifuyu back. Keisuke doubts Chifuyu can speak in this state, much less explain himself, so he settles for simply being there and giving reassurances. "I'm here. You're gonna be okay. We can work this out together, yeah? No matter what, you're not alone. I'm here. Everything's gonna be okay."
Keisuke stiffens when he hears the front door open and close, then the pattering of footsteps. No one else should be here at this time. Keisuke tries to extract himself to deal with a potential home intruder, but Chifuyu panics, his hands darting out to grab onto Keisuke.
"No, no, don't go—"
The door opens—
—and Takemichi rushes in.
What the fuck? Keisuke thinks. What's Takemitchy doing here?
"Chifuyu," Takemichi says through winded pants.
Chifuyu turns his head, and he manages to somehow look even more miserable, devastation twisting his features. He sounds so hopeful and anguished when he says, "Takemitchy?"
"Yeah," Takemichi breathes. Blue eyes roam over Chifuyu, overbright with a near maniacal sort of energy. Takemichi dithers, rocking back and forth on his heels, hands clenching into fists before relaxing. Chifuyu pulls away from Keisuke before opening up his arms.
Takemichi drops to his knees, hugging Chifuyu tight. He shakes through his next exhale, curling around Chifuyu even tighter.
"You're here," Takemichi says, his voice choked. "You're really here."
"You're the one who went and died," Chifuyu says, the words muffled against Takemichi's shoulder, his voice tight with anger, but he's hugging Takemichi just as tightly—just as desperately.
"I'm sorry," Takemichi says. There's a gleam in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to. I won't leave you again."
What the fuck? Keisuke thinks with even more feeling.
"Where is he?" Chifuyu eventually says, and Keisuke can't quite read him. He knows Chifuyu's scared, though—Keisuke sees that in that specific set look to his eyes.
"He's outside," Takemichi says slowly, like he's trying to be careful. "He brought me here. He thought you might not like him being around me, but that you won't like not knowing where he is, either."
Chifuyu, of all things, laughs. There's a hysterical edge to it. An undercurrent of misery, too. "He really… He really went back. He really saved us. He really helped you. He really—" Chifuyu's breath hitches. "Takemitchy, I can't—I can't."
"It's okay," Takemichi says, nuzzling Chifuyu's neck. "We don't blame you for hating him. And Mikey won't ever lay his hands on you with the intent to hurt again, either. It'll kill him."
Okay, that's it. Keisuke snaps, "Takemitchy, what the hell's going on?"
[ii]
Takuya stares as Mikey lifts someone up by the collar. He punches the person across the face, then again and again and again. Blood splatters on his face, his opponent—target—victim—is out cold, no longer even capable of moving, of fighting back, and still Mikey shows no signs of stopping.
They were taking down a rival gang, Takuya remembers. Mikey had requested the strength of the first and fourth divisions, and they had obliged, and then—
Takemichi got hurt, Takuya grasps, dragging his snatches of memories together, trying to think through the syrupy slowness of his mind. Takemichi is hurt, I need to—
"Takemitchy," Chifuyu says, in a blink of an eye on his knees right next to Takemichi. Mikey pauses, then drops the guy. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"Not really," Takemichi says, which means he had a few scrapes and sores but no other distressingly close calls. "Just my side. It's only a small cut. I'm fine, Chifuyu."
"Sure," Chifuyu says absently as he examines said cut. Takuya notices how tired Chifuyu seems, green eyes dull, face pale. "You'll live," Chifuyu decides. "Chū, go get the kit from my motorcycle. Everyone else, clear out."
The first division is instantly in motion—
"I think I need a hand."
"I can take another person with me!"
"Rendezvous at my place!"
—with the exception of Baji, who remains still, eyeing Mikey with a stony mix of anger, apprehension and perplexity.
In the wake of the first division is a stifling sort of silence. Takuya wants to go to Takemichi, but his feet refuse to move, inexplicably paralysed.
"You heard him," Mikey says, and his voice, so soft, somehow shatters the hush with the violence of a gunshot. "Clear out."
Most of the fourth division scramble to follow. Takuya feels a surge of fear, but that is nothing against his concern for Takemichi. He stays.
Mikey hardly acknowledges him, or any of the others who stuck around, his gaze glued onto Chifuyu and Takemichi with unwavering focus.
Chū returns, a first aid kit clutched in one hand.
"Chifuyu, here."
Chifuyu works quickly, hands steady and sure as he washes his hands with a bottle of water and soap, guides Takemichi to bite down on a roll of gauze, then disinfects and sutures the knife wound closed. Takemichi is quiet all the while, low grunts of pain occasionally slipping out.
"Done," Chifuyu says.
Takemichi takes out the gauze from his mouth while his other hand goes for Chifuyu, grasping the vice by his wrist. Takuya notices then how Chifuyu shakes, the faraway look on his face.
"I'm okay," Takemichi says. His eyes are intense, bright with surety, with a strength so great as to sit as wrong, wrong, wrong. "I'm here. I won't leave you again, I won't."
Green eyes flash. "Don't make promises you can't keep," Chifuyu says, voice barbed, the line of his shoulders tense, but he doesn't pull away.
"It's not a promise," Takemichi says. "I'm here, aren't I? No matter what, I always came back. I never gave up. Not even death was enough to pry me away; I'll always come back."
"Dumbass," Chifuyu says. "You got lucky a few times, so what? Doesn't mean you can start being reckless with your own life."
"I know," Takemichi replies, vehement. "And I'm not trying to be. Believe me—the last thing I ever want is to risk a future alongside everyone."
"You better," Chifuyu says, relaxing by a fraction.
"Chifuyu," Mikey says, seeming almost reluctant. Takuya sees how Chifuyu shutters, expression becoming impassive. "Ken-chin can take Takemitchy home."
Takuya reels—Mikey is asking for permission.
Chifuyu looks from Takemichi to Mikey to Draken, then to Takemichi again. "Okay," he says. And a little more firmly, "Okay."
Chifuyu gets up, and Draken seems to take that as a cue, approaching Takemichi and supporting him to stand.
"I'll take care of him," Draken says to Chifuyu, earnest.
Chifuyu nods, but his expression is stiff, and his hands are curled into tight fists.
"Chifuyu," Mikey says, and he sounds so gentle. There is still blood on his face. "Chifuyu, come here. You're going with me."
And Chifuyu regards Mikey, his gaze piercing, seeming almost cautious, but he moves closer, anyway.
***
Takemichi shifts, the rustling of sheets as audible as the blaring of an alarm clock. If Takemichi moves one more time, Takuya will kill him. It would save Takuya the fear of Takemichi opening up the wound on his side at least.
"Hey, Takemichi," Takuya hears Atsushi say quietly—trying not to wake the others up. "Can't sleep?"
"Not really," Takemichi says, and then with some guilt, "Sorry, was I keeping you up?"
"Nah, you're fine," Atsushi says. "Today was crazy, wasn't it?" A hum. "I've never seen Mikey-kun lose his cool like that before." Silence. "And Chifuyu was amazing. He kept calm and gave you first aid. Really shows you why he's the vice of the first division."
"Yeah," Takemichi says softly. "Chifuyu's amazing."
"Do you think he'll teach me first aid if I ask him?" Atsushi asks.
"He'll probably take you to Angry-kun," Takemichi says. "Angry-kun was the one who taught him in the first place."
"I guess that explains how they're so close," Atsushi says. "They really care about you. Mikey-kun and Chifuyu, I mean."
"They do," Takemichi says, and there's an awed quality to his voice that Takuya doesn't like, as though Takemichi's not sure how they could care about him so much—as though he's not one of the greatest guys Takuya knows. "I really want to see them right now."
"Why don't you call them over?" Atsushi suggests. "I'm sure Mikey-kun and Chifuyu will want to see you, too."
"Chifuyu," Takemichi pauses, then says, "I'll see them tomorrow. I can wait that long. I think I'm going to make myself some chamomile tea."
"Wait, wait, don't get up," Atsushi rushes to say. "Chamomile tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of milk, right? I'll make it for you."
"I don't wanna trouble you…"
"What are you talking about? We're friends, right? I want to do this for you. Come on, rely on me a little."
Takuya can practically hear Takemichi tearing up. "Thanks, Akkun."
Takuya will never get that about Takemichi—how Takemichi can call tea leafy water with a scrunch to his nose, but drink chamomile tea religiously when he's upset.
***
Takuya is pretty sure he's hallucinating.
It's a new day.
They've all woken up and packed away the spare futons, blankets and pillows (there weren't enough futons for everyone, so they had to improvise). Atsushi and Makoto are in the kitchen trying to figure out breakfast. Yamagishi is sitting at the desk chair, ranting to Takemichi about some game or other, as Takuya flips through a manga when Mikey appears (which isn't surprising), Chifuyu behind him (which is a little surprising, Takuya isn't gonna lie).
"Chifuyu, Mikey!" Takemichi exclaims, brightening up.
"You look like shit," Chifuyu says in lieu of a proper greeting. "Did you get any sleep?"
Takuya is expecting a lot of things—an awkward laugh followed by a, "Do I?" A bold, "There was this manga that I had to finish." Or even an outright, "I think I slept really well. Are you saying not even a full night of rest made me look better?"
Takuya was not expecting Takemichi to say, "Not much."
Yamagishi is eyeing Takemichi strangely, so at least Takuya knows he's not going crazy.
Chifuyu hums, going closer, an unhappy curve to his mouth. Chifuyu extends a hand, fingers carding through flaxen hair, brushing back shaggy bangs. Takemichi is looking up at him with wonder in his eyes.
"Go wash up, then call me in when you're done. I'll redress your wounds while I'm here."
"Okay," Takemichi says dazedly.
Chifuyu doesn't notice, too busy looking at Mikey. "Mikey-kun, please help him."
"Okay," Mikey says, as legible as a blank page. "I'll look after him."
When Takemichi and Mikey make their exit, Chifuyu sinks down onto the bed, running a hand down his face and letting out a frustrated sigh. Takuya feels his head spin at the sight of Chifuyu, the steadfast vice of the first division, always smiling or cool and composed, losing his shit.
"Hey, Chifuyu," Yamagishi says uncertainly. "Are you okay?"
"No," Chifuyu says with more honesty than Takuya predicted, "Yamagishi, distract me. Just—talk to me, please."
So Yamagishi does, restarting that same rant he gave Takemichi. Takuya can tell Chifuyu's making an effort at following Yamagishi along, but his gaze wanders to the door every so often.
After a couple of minutes, the door opens, and Mikey is there, lying down on the bed and—Takuya is tempted to rub his eyes, clearly he's seeing wrong, nope—resting his head on Chifuyu's lap.
"Takemitchy's fine," Mikey says. "You can hear him, right?"
There's a tense moment where Chifuyu's clearly straining his ears to listen, but he eventually eases up. "…I can."
Takuya catches a glimpse of satisfied dark eyes before Mikey flips over, wrapping his arms around Chifuyu's waist and burying his face against Chifuyu's stomach. Chifuyu doesn't push Mikey off, and while he hesitates, he starts running his fingers through Mikey's hair.
It is at this moment that Takuya begins genuinely worrying for his sanity.
Mikey has always been affectionate, but not like—not like this. And with Chifuyu? Chifuyu, who Takuya never got the impression Mikey cared for in any exceptional way than he does any other Tōman member.
Okay, sure, Mikey listens to Chifuyu as much as he does Draken or Takemichi or Kisaki, but that's because Chifuyu's smart.
And this is different—Mikey's practically cuddling up to Chifuyu, and Chifuyu's letting him, acting like this is perfectly normal.
Is this normal? Takuya thinks. Have they always been this close? Have I been blind?
"Chifuyu!" Takuya hears Takemichi raise his voice from a distance, startling him. "You can come in now!"
Chifuyu removes his hand, and Mikey sits up.
"Takemichi keeps a first aid kit in the closet," Takuya says on autopilot. "There's one in the bathroom, too, but it's running low. That one's," Takuya points to said closet, "fully stocked up."
Chifuyu sends him an appreciative look. "Thank you, Takuya."
And is Takuya imagining things, or are Chifuyu's eyes warmer than usual?
"No worries," Takuya says.
Chifuyu leaves, taking along the first aid kit from the closet. Mikey announces that he's going to help Atsushi and Makoto with breakfast and exits right after Chifuyu. Takuya looks to Yamagishi, who's already looking back with bewildered eyes, and what else are they supposed to do? Sit there? Right after that?
No, Takuya and Yamagishi also go out to help the others in the kitchen.
And, huh, Mikey's actually helping out.
For the record, Takuya knows Mikey cares about his friends, but his default to showing that is through physical protection. If someone is injured or down or dispirited, Mikey usually elicits the help of someone else he thinks is more suited to the job. The most recent example Takuya can think of is the last time Takemichi was sick—Mikey dragged Draken along with him to the Hanagaki household, and Draken was the one who did most of the heavy lifting of taking care of Takemichi, making sure that the fridge was stocked up with light meals that were easy to heat up and ensuring that there was actual cold medicine in the pantry for Takemichi to take (Takuya was so glad Draken showed up—the Mizo Mid were all there and equally at a loss on how to help).
But there Mikey is—cooking.
Takuya's mind boggles.
"Takuya," Atsushi nudges him, "Can you toast the bread?"
"Yeah, of course," Takuya says, automatically doing as Atsushi asked. It's a welcome reprieve.
Takemichi and Chifuyu appear right as they're plating. Takemichi goes to take his seat on his usual chair at the dining table with Yamagishi and Makoto, while Chifuyu heads over to Mikey.
"Wow," Takemichi says. "This looks amazing. Thanks for breakfast, you guys."
To his side, Takuya catches Chifuyu saying, "I want to check up on a few other first division members."
"We can do that," Mikey replies. He pushes a plate of bacon strips, sunny side up eggs, fried onions, roasted potatoes and toasted bread towards Chifuyu. "But first—eat."
Mikey looks at Chifuyu, appearing very much like a cat that dropped a dead rat at the foot of its owner. Chifuyu can probably see the resemblance, and cat lover that he is, acquiesces with reluctance.
"Please help me eat," Chifuyu entreats.
And so there Mikey and Chifuyu are, standing by the counter, eating out of the same plate—like they haven't made enough portions to comfortably feed ten teenagers. That satisfied gleam is back in Mikey's eyes. Takuya elects not to contemplate the implications of this, focusing instead on fixing up his own breakfast and then joining the other Mizo Mid crew at the dining table.
The added distance doesn't stop Takuya from noticing that, after they're done, Chifuyu washes the dirty cookware and his and Mikey's plate, Mikey perched close on the counter next to him. The pair drifts by the dining table, giving their goodbyes, before they depart together—but not without Chifuyu ruffling Takemichi's hair.
"So, what's the deal with Mikey-kun and Chifuyu?" Makoto says. Takuya is so relieved that someone's finally asking this. "Are they fucking?"
Takemichi chokes on his coffee.
Takuya considers the benefits of murder.
[iii]
It all began with Yamagishi bursting inside the restaurant where he and Mikey were hanging out, face bloody, swelling and purpling with bruises. "We're being lynched," Yamagishi said. Mikey told him to lead the way to where the others were, and what they found—
Takemichi shouting with all of his might, desperately thrashing against the hands holding him down, as Atsushi screamed, a noise of pure agony, a hand, red stumps of fingers, missing nails—
Mikey, the light wiping from his eyes. Mikey, ripping through the warehouse, a being of unholy rage. Mikey, a sea of groaning bodies littered around him, his face a mask of eerie blankness.
Deep down, Takashi knows that Mikey can be dangerous. As few as those times may be, Mitsuya has seen Mikey lose his temper before, raining appalling levels of violence on those who had the misfortune of incurring his wrath.
But Mikey has never gone too far.
And Takashi is terrified that this will be the exception.
"Yamagishi," says Chifuyu. Wait, Chifuyu? Takashi pivots. Chifuyu stands in the mouth of the main entryway, green eyes sharp as they survey the warehouse. At his side is Takuya. "I saw a payphone nearby. Go and call emergency services here. Takuya, Makoto, take Takemitchy and Akkun to the hospital."
Yamagishi, Makoto and Takuya immediately abide by his orders. Chifuyu walks closer to Mikey.
"Do you hate me?" Mikey asks once Chifuyu has slowed to a halt. Mikey is not quite looking at Chifuyu, keeping a peripheral eye on the downed enemies around him for retaliation or sneak attacks. "I broke my promise."
Promise?
"…I don't expect you to be perfect," Chifuyu says after a pause. "And anyone would get angry in this situation. I can tell you held back. I know what you're capable of. All things considered, I think you did well."
This is Mikey holding back?! Takashi thinks.
Mikey looks fully at Chifuyu. Chifuyu, miraculously, remains collected underneath those dark, hollow eyes. He reaches out, taking Mikey by the elbow.
"We're a team, aren't we?" Chifuyu says. "Your battles are our battles, too."
"…None of you should have to deal with this," Mikey says.
"We don't," Chifuyu says. "But they'll choose to, anyway. Where you go, they go. No matter how dark that place may be, how terrible or painful, they'll go because you're there." Takashi can see Chifuyu tightening his hold, fingers flexing. "No matter what happens, you have to remember that. You're our leader. You guide us, for better or worse. The first step to keeping them safe is to keep yourself safe, so you can't do anything that'll get you on the wrong side of the law."
"…Okay," Mikey says, and mercifully, the light hits his eyes.