Chapter Text
Issho has known Shiguma Arakawa for a very long time, which is why he knew the next words out of his mouth would be utterly putrid bullshit.
Despite everything, you deserve to know. I’m going to teach Akane Shiguma’s Art. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, the first time.
What you do with your students is of no concern to me.
You and I both know that’s not true, Shiguma contests, but his heart’s not in it. He’s long resigned to the reality of their dynamic. Anyways, that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to ask if you still have your papers.
The Earth’s axis ever so slightly shifts, and in that moment, it’s almost as if Issho can feel the force of every turn. His head is nearly dizzy with it.
Who do you take me for? He responds, refusing to be thrown off-center for long. Unlike some people, Issho Arakawa is firmly grounded in his principles. Others’ expectations and emotions slide off his shoulders in rivulets. A weaker man would crumble under the weight.
Please, aniki. I need to archive them.
The man before him had once withered into dust under all the weight. Only once, and yet once was enough to seal both of their fates.
Issho sighs, rising from his chair. He makes his way to a dresser from the side of the room, then pulls out a small wooden box inside one of the drawers. He opens its latch to reveal a bronze key. Then, gripping it tight in his palm, albeit with a slight tremor, he makes his way to a taller, wider drawer with a keyhole at the center.
When unlocked, the drawer pulls out to reveal the filing cabinet. Issho cards through paper tabs, until, finally, reaches to grab a thin Manila folder.
He makes his way back to Shiguma and hands it over to him. Shiguma reads the heading of the first document he sees upon opening the folder.
ADOPTION INTAKE - ADULT
Tokyo District Court
ADOPTER INFORMATION
Family Name: Shiranami Personal Name: Yousuke
His eyebrows lift in recognition. Thank you, he responds, holding the folder gingerly at his side. Do you mind if I take a picture?
You truly didn’t make your own copy?
I always meant to….
But figured I would keep track of it anyways? Typical. Despite his grumbling, Issho patiently waits for Shiguma to finish scanning the documents on his smartphone.
Everything’s digital these days, can you believe it? I told them I’d fax to their office, but you know what they said? ‘Just use our client portal.’ I had to ask Maikeru to help me set up an account…
Shiguma looks up to see Issho glaring at him. Years spent together meant he could decipher the nuances of his friend’s expressions the way astronomers read the stars. This expression in particular was urging him to get to the point.
He sighs. I suppose you’re wondering why now, hmm?
Without further preamble, he pulls at the edge of his collar to reveal a sizable lump at the lower end of his throat, near his clavicle.
I have a tumor. I don’t know if it’s malignant, yet, he explains. I’m still waiting for lab results to come back. And, well, when I thought about what would happen if I was incapacitated, I thought of you.
…You always drag me into your problems.
You always step in whether I ask for it or not. He laughs, but it sounds pained. I guess old habits die hard. But this time, I am asking. If I can’t be there for her—
Is that all? Issho interrupts him before he can continue. I don’t need you to explain how to do my job. I will protect the future of this school, like always, no matter what.
Shiguma blinks in surprise, then smiles, easy and light, as if this was exactly what he needed to hear. For a brief instance, Issho catches a glimpse of a boy he hadn’t seen in ages. Despite time and distance, he can’t bear to look away. The realization twists a knot in his chest.
You can never let me have the last word, can you? Well, thank you, anyways. I knew I could count on you, aniki.
Shiguma’s parting words linger in Issho’s mind even as he stands in his hospital room. It had been a long time since he last received a call from a hospital. The script they drill into their medics hasn’t changed much over the years. There was one major exception: they wouldn’t tell him details of the patient's condition until he arrived. Something about “sensitive information” and “we can only discuss details with immediate family."
If they had looked deeper through Yousuke Shiranami’s files, they would realize he was his only living family. No matter. It was easy enough to check-in at the hospital and loom over the front desk until they rang up the doctor overseeing Yousuke's condition.
Apparently, that girl was the first to find him and notify the emergency department. She would soon return to this hospital room. No matter. Issho Arakawa was a man built to weather any storm, including short-sighted youth.
He may be standing here, in charge of managing the paperwork and finances of this whole fiasco, but Issho Arakawa has no family to speak of. He keeps his heart small, only able to love one thing at a time. What could compare to his love for the Arakawa school? Arakawa rakugoka have only one job: to stand on the shoulders of giants and reach ever greater heights.
He weighed the artistic merit of every student, from master to meekest apprentice, against the cold, hard truth of reality. He saw that the man before him was rendered useless, once again leaving him to pick up the pieces. Once again, he alone would carry the blame of what's to come. No matter. He had already made his choice long ago. Everyone eventually did.
Soon, this girl would have to as well.