Work Text:
It starts out small.
And it starts right when and where Chifuyu cracks his lashes open for the first time on that peculiar day, half tangled in sheets and his boyfriends’ limbs. They both are still fast asleep, like usual. Chifuyu reaches over his own pillow to dig out his phone and dismiss the two and a half minutes he has left before his alarm goes off, fingers tapping away without him having to navigate the movement.
Just like usual.
E-mails. To-do lists. Socials. On the last one, at the top left of his screen, Hanma Shuji’s profile picture lights up with a new post notification.
Chifuyu pokes it—call it morbid curiosity—while sucking the air through the narrow gap between his canine and the part of his lip it’s sunk into. He expects the usual there, also. Foreign landmarks. Absurd images such as that of two men in full bunny suits having a soak in some European river that the freak uploaded a couple of weeks prior. Candids of Kisaki doing the most mundane things ever like wiping his nerdy glasses with his silk handkerchief. While Hanma’s kaomoji-loaded caption measured up to the standard “Hanma Shuji’s shit-posting” Chifuyu has (semi-unwillingly)grown accustomed to, the leg in a cast and the pouty, scratched-up face that followed it brought a fresh breeze into the well-knowns.
“Heh-heh.” Chifuyu’s form wobbles with his muffled snickers. “About time, dickhead. Even your bike’s had enough of you.”
He probably wouldn’t even need his whiskey-with-a-dash-of-coffee this morning. That tiny slice of poetic justice proves to be more than enough pick-me-up to get him out of his bed smiling, each of the kisses he plants on Keisuke’s and Kazutora’s foreheads especially generous and a tiny bit wetter than they could have been.
Going to Mom’s for breakfast, Chifuyu writes on the kitty-head sticky note on the nightstand. A few windshield-wipers and overhead stretches and he departs the snug cocoon of their bedroom, bright-eyed and raring to go.
Today is going to be a good day, something in his gut is telling him.
Little does Chifuyu know, it’s going to be more than just any good day.
***
Chifuyu spots a familiar shape roaming the front of the self-service frozen dumplings shop he frequents for late-night drinking needs, just around the corner of his apartment complex.
There’s no mistaking the guy, even from a distance. Silky blonde hair and milky complexion that teenage girls would commit crimes for. The overalls tied around his hips, stained with motor oil and other automotive fluids. Chifuyu rarely ever sees him outside the repair garage and they don’t really seek each other’s company in their downtime. What could he be doing here?
“Inupi-kun!”
A little jog and Chifuyu is across the street, where Seishu is. At a half an hour shy of 7 AM, the sun is still cowering behind last night’s murky clouds, sparing them from August heat. Chifuyu is ecstatic to be out of his stuffy(but necessary!) button-up and tie for a change. The look Seishu is fixing his XXL navy tie-dye tee, worn over a plain black long-sleeve and black baggy jeans, however, tells him that he might be alone in his fashion-related high spirits.
Chifuyu lets it roll off his back, no problem. You don’t make it big in life if you’re too scared to swim upstream.
“Been a while since we last saw each other, eh?” Chifuyu cheerfully slaps the other's shoulder. “What are you doing in the area? Work? Or are you looking to catch Baji-san or Kazutora-kun? It’s our designated day off today, so they’re both are still in bed right now and you might need to come back later in a-”
“...Do you still have those T-shirts…?”
Chifuyu could swear that Seishu’s lips moved just now. They’re close to a railroad bridge, though, and whatever Seishu might or might not have said got swallowed by the express train rumbling through the Fukutoshin Line.
“Whuh? Sorry, Inupi-kun. Didj’a say something?”
If silence could kill. There have been times in the past, back in their active Toman days, that Chifuyu wondered if Seishu wouldn’t have rather set himself on fire than stay for another round of Mikey or Takemichi’s soul-igniting speeches. He’s very much wearing the same expression right now. The specific one that begs for anyone under the sky to grab him by the scruff of his neck and toss him into the nearest waste incinerator, or for Shiba Taiju to feed him to the sharks.
“I was asking.” Seishu is hissing more than he is talking. Chifuyu cranes forward, determined to not miss a single syllable. “If you still have those fucking T-shirts. The blue ones with the stupid cat face on them ‘cuz... ‘Cuz I need to get my hands on some right now.”
To claim that he’s caught with his metaphorical pants off from Seishu’s admission would be an understatement. Chifuyu blinks once, twice, before he regains his ability to verbalize his thoughts.
“Do you mean… The uniform I designed for Toman’s last Christmas party forever ago? The Thousand Winters ones?” Chifuyu is aware of the fact that he is risking it, judging from how close Seishu appears to be to imploding on the spot from pure disgust. The younger can’t help himself from prodding further in spite of it, his shock graduating into a full-blown smirk. “The ones you spat on at first sight?? Don’t tell me they’ve finally grown on you, Inupi-kun?? They’re pretty cool, aren’t they???!!”
What ensues is a peak shoujo manga moment, where the mechanic slams a domineering hand against the wall behind Chifuyu’s head and drives him into the giant mousetrap of the nearest upright structure and limbs and death glares.
Seishu might as well be breathing fire. Even though venom drips from his voice like melted icicles.
“/My sister/. My sister found the T-shirt in a pile of old clothes I was meant to toss out and thought it was-” The agony in his eyes is almost tangible. “/She/ thought it was cute. She wants one for herself and three more for her girl friends and she hasn’t stopped pestering me about it which means I need them ASAP so she can shut up and let me have my peace back.”
Chifuyu opens his mouth.
Seishu is faster, doubling down with his low whispers of endless potential sufferings.
“I’m going to send you money. You’re going to ship me the stuff to the address I’m going to give you and /IF/ a word about this ever gets out you’ll regret being born with functional pain receptors and wish you were a daikon instead. Got it, Matsuno?”
He’s no longer a fourteen-year-old who trades physical safety with short-term glories, he’s really not. But Seishu’s threats only serve to stretch his joy wider, observable in how dry his gum has become from how long he has been grinning from ear to ear.
Chifuyu could kiss Seishu for making his entire year but decides that getting maimed would prevent him from soaking in his triumph.
“Anything for a Toman brother, Inupi-kun.” Sweet, honeyed giggles. “I’ll pack in some extras just for you. No promises for violence necessary ‘cuz long-time fans are special in my heart <3”
***
The day is folding out to be a real-life version of Minesweeper but with the explosives swapped with happy surprises that seem intent on jumping Chifuyu every fifty steps that he takes to his mother’s apartment.
Hakkai called right before he hopped into the Metro, requesting help with this new and trendy format of celebrity interview he is doing where he will answer questions while playing with puppies or kittens. In exchange for supplying the TV station’s need for the fluff balls, Chifuyu will be granted the space to promote the adoption program his shop is running with the local shelters. After getting off his train, Chifuyu took a brief detour to the convenience store so he could drop a cup of creamy coffee at Ryoko’s before visiting his own mom, where he bumped into Mikey and Draken in the dessert aisle.
Mikey was munching on a Hokkaido roll cake that Chifuyu wasn’t certain had been paid for when the two announced a piece of special news: Mikey’s team recently signed a sponsorship contract with Maruka Foods, the matriarch of Peyoung Yakisoba, which resulted then in boxes upon boxes of forgotten noodles in the Sano dojo due to Mikey’s bias for sweets over them. Chifuyu was later appointed for the duty of relieving the star racer of his curly, savoury burdens at his most immediate convenience, something that the former is more than willing to oblige.
It didn’t stop there.
The final bomb drops over buttered toasts, fried eggs, and his mother’s classic milk miso soup.
“///HAWAII??///” He probably sprayed the poor woman with bacon and sweet corn bits there. Chifuyu’ has to give it to his mom, for barely raising an eyebrow at his response. “You did /NOT/ win an actual trip to Hawaii!! The biggest prize we ever got from lottery tickets was a crate of Aomori apples…. Even for that we had to eat the store's bread for breakfast, lunch and dinner for a whole damn month first!!!”
Her hair might be turning gray, but she never really lost that child-like defiance in her toothy smile. Chifuyu used to always dream of becoming his father's son—a tragic hero and a brave soul that sacrificed himself for the safety of others. Now? He'll be proud if he's able to become even a quarter like his mother, hopefully with the chance to look out for her the way she did when he was nothing but trouble for her.
“Watch your language.” Her tone is all cheery, though. The crow's feet on the corners of her eyes as deep as her amusement. “And I so did! Won it on the first roll, too! With a ticket my co-worker gave me because she believes that lottery is a form of gambling and she despises her gambler ex-husband.”
Can't fault that logic, Chifuyu thinks. If he ever turned into a gambling man, he'd beg Keisuke and Kazutora to tie him up, stuff him into a cement sack and offer him to the seas.
“I'm going to leave on December 20th and return on the 26th. Which means I will get to wish you a happy birthday in person and bring you, Ryoko-san, Kei-kun and Kazu-kun cute Christmas presents from Hawaii. Pretty sweet, huh? You rascals better not be late for Christmas dinner this year or I'll-oh?”
When did she get so small? Having abruptly abandoned his side of the dining table and his meal, Chifuyu firmly presses the woman against his chest and holds her there.
“That's so fucking cool, Mom!! I'm so happy for you!!” Sniff! “All you ever do is work and work and work. You deserve this more than anyone I know. This is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to us, ever?? I can't fucking believe it!!”
In her laughs—nasally, with her head tipped back—Chifuyu hears a little bit of himself. The idea that he might not need to break his body to be his mother’s son is a comforting one.
“Language.” Try as she might to play the bad cop, the way she leans back on her chair and straightens a clump of his unruly hair says a different story. “And quit being a nosy brat, will you? You've always been one. Sticking your nose in places, often unsavory ones, ever since you were yay big.” She gestures with her fingers something of the size of a tennis ball. Chifuyu scowls at the exaggeration. “I don't /only/ work. I raised you, too, didn't I? Even though I didn't do that nearly enough and was gone so much when you needed me the most. I never stop regretting it, you know? If you are a nosy brat, really I am just a lousy mother.”
“Mom-!”
There she goes again with her impish grin. She shushes his protests and ambushes him into a revenge embrace, iron will clad in pastel green cardigan.
“Hawaii is nice,” she chuckles. “But it’s far from being the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He doesn’t know how but Chifuyu already can guess what his mother is going to say next. Fingers wound tight in her clothes, he buries his sobs in her shoulder. “You are. There’s not a moment in my life larger than all the times I’ve gotten to watch you work harder than everyone around you with what little you have, and get closer and closer to a future that you want for yourself every day. I have a good life because it has you in it.”
Chifuyu stays long after breakfast has been cleared. He sits by the family altar just before he leaves, having set a plate of watermelon wedges next to the smiling photograph. Did he feel the same way his wife does, even if the three of them barely had time together?
“I'm such a happy kid. Having two cool folks like y'all as parents.” A soft snicker. Chifuyu allows himself to believe that his father did feel the same thing, indeed. “Hawaii, huh? Don't worry. If she comes home with a douche-y Hawaiian boyfriend, I'll be the first to punt him into the next dimension so you can rest easy from now on.”
***
Chifuyu is half a dozen mango cream choux(how does Ryoko-san keep finding these amazing hidden bakeries?) heavier on his way home. He's too busy cackling to himself upon passing the same dumpling shop where the ‘Seishu Incident' took place this morning, he nearly missed the couple sharing a swing set on the playground. The sun is just setting on the horizon, streaking everything with its orange glow and nostalgia.
“Hina-chan? Takemicchy?”
“Woah, Chifuyu!! Whassup, my dude??”
“It's been a while, Chifuyu-kun! How are you?”
Keeping in mind to save some of the pastries for Kazutora and Keisuke, Chifuyu vents about his day to his two friends while snacking on the sugary bounty on the park’s bench. When asked about how exactly today has been “weird”, Chifuyu pauses, stares at a non-specific point in the distance and softly sighs.
“I dunno, it's just... It's been good. Very good. /A crazy level of good/. If you told me I’m dreaming right now, I’d believe it right away.” He interrupts himself with a quiet bark of laughter, now shrugging at the two. “It just kinda feels wrong, y’know what I mean? Where did all of this even come from? I for sure didn't do anything that got me owed this amount of good fortune.”
Takemichi and Hinata look at one another with a certain curve to their smiles that prompts Chifuyu to think that he's missing out on a private joke.
“What are you talking about??” Takemichi shoots mid happily munching on his choux. “You probably invented a high-tech machine that could undo the tragedy of dropping your noodles into the sink while pouring out its water in your past life or something!! You'll never know, so you should just enjoy yourself instead of overthinking everything!!”
Flanked by both boys on her sides, Hinata gracefully dabs her chin free from pastry crumbs with a napkin and provides a more down-to-earth insight.
“Or, maybe, you were simply there for a friend when nobody else did and they were able to push through their darkest times because of you?” Before Chifuyu can form an opinion on that, she goes on, “Another theory? Good things are happening to you just because they are.” Hinata sends a playfully scolding pinch to Chifuyu’s ribs. “You know you don’t have to achieve impossible things to deserve happiness, don’t you?”
The question lingers with him all the way home. By the time Chifuyu steps out of his sneakers at the genkan, the conundrum has mothered a list of new questions; is what Hinata said really true? How will knowing make a difference? What’s considered ‘impossible’? Why should he, of all people, deserve it? Or is it just how things work for everyone, horrible people included? From within the apartment, fragments of conversation seep through the thin walls. The closer Chifuyu gets to the heart of the interaction, the less clearly he can hear the riddles swarming his brain.
“...The fuck’s a baking soda? Like ramune but for baking? But we’re cooking meat?? Where the hell did you get this recipe from, we wanna make something nice for Fuyu—not send him to the ER on his day off!!”
“Can you shut it?? It literally says here that the baking soda is supposed to tenderize the meat… I’ve got no idea what baking ramune looks like, though… Should we call Fuyu? Is he taking longer than usual ‘cuz he’s walking a random granny to the drugstore again?”
As much as Chifuyu is tempted to see the intriguing discussion to its end, the urge to crack up with a howl is stronger. Two bodies turn, in sync, two pairs of eyes widening with delight.
“Oi, Fuyu! Listen! Tora here is trying to poison you with this weird ramune shit. You’re damn lucky I’m here to stop him-”
“-Zip it!! Fuyuuuuuu, Baji’s being a stubborn idiot and won’t let me do my magic!! …Uwa! Are those sweets from Ryoko?? Gimme, gimme!”
“Don’t leave it on the counter, Tora! The cats will chew through the box and steal all the cream!”
“Not if I steal it first, nyaa~”
Chifuyu hasn’t stopped laughing. Half at the commonly occurring scene in their kitchen, half at the knots he’s put in his own knickers for nothing.
He’s having a terrific, fantastic, all-around amazing, very good day.
And he’s going to savor every minute of it, cheek by jowl with the people to whom his heart will always belong.