Work Text:
Beep beep beep beep bee-
Akihiko hit the off button on his phone and rolled over onto his back. Bringing the brick to his face, he stared up at the screen. January 1st, happy new year. There were some missed calls, but he didn't really register anything written yet. Probably a bunch of New Years messages; he could deal with that when he was fully in the waking world. He sat up and stretched his arms with a groan. His head felt foggy, as if he had been drinking the night before. He was, it had been New Year's Eve after all.
“Akihiko dear, are you awake?” The familiar voice of his mother called out. Ah yes, he was at his parents' house for the holiday.
“Yeah, I'm up,” he yelled back, strain and fatigue still present as he transitioned into a lively state.
“Ai-chan just called. She said she'll be here at 9 to pick you up,” his mother responded.
Oh, right…He was meeting up with old high school friends to welcome in the year later. They were meant to go to the shrine together then back to Junpei’s place afterwards. That explained all the missed calls he had.
So he got up and ready. It was perfectly sunny out, deceptive to the cold which surely accompanied it. Getting dressed in his usual winter attire, he headed downstairs. His parents greeted him with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Happy New Year, Aki,” they'd said as they passed him a cup of coffee and a bento for the new year.
Soon enough the bell rang and outside stood a familiar woman. She wore a deep blue yukata and held a matching purse. Her blond hair was tied into a high ponytail and white earmuffs covered her ears. On her ring finger was a beautiful silver ring.
“Happy New Year, Akihiko-san,” she'd greeted with a smile.
“Happy New Year,” he'd responded; the phrase was encoded in him today. “You're not cold?”
Softly she shook her head, “it isn't too bad today. Thank you for asking.”
Akihiko waved goodbye to his parents and left with Ai.
Ai? He could have sworn her name was longer. And was there something different about her today? He'd seen her pretty recently, so what was there to second guess about? He studied her for a second. Oh, he wasn’t used to seeing her hair done up like that, he realized. That’s what it was.
“I tried calling your cell this morning, but I suppose you were still asleep,” she noted as they headed towards Naganaki.
“Ah, sorry about that,” he rubbed the back of his neck. Perhaps he should check his phone more. “I’m surprised you came on your own.”
“I wanted Mako to join us, but he was still very sleepy this morning,” she stated.
Mako….Oh, Makoto. He thought someone was missing, so it was Makoto. He was never used to that nickname she'd affectionately given him.
“He probably needs the extra sleep. He works pretty late doesn’t he?” Akihiko suddenly remembered, as if the memory had come from thin air. He often missed Makoto since their schedules never aligned. Akihiko was often up near the ass crack of dawn for training or for his clients’ training, meanwhile Makoto usually worked a late shift as a doorman. By the time he was waking up most mornings was about the time Makoto was going to sleep. That must be why it’s felt like an eternity since he’d seen him last.
“That he does, but he’s been on vacation since last week. I’ve tried to adjust him to a normal schedule to spend more time with him, but,” she sighed, a chuckle escaping towards the end, “all these years and he still refuses to wake up on time, even for me.” She put her hand to her head and shook in despair.
“There’s no helping him is there?”
“Certainly not…I know he probably would not have cared much for the shrine visit anyways,” Ai shrugged, “he should be meeting us later.”
The shrine was busy as it always was on this day of the year. The line for the altar wrapped out of the shrine and onto the street side, but fortunately was moving relatively quickly. When they took their place at the back, Koromaru came up to excitedly greet them, barking and wagging his tail.
“Koromaru-san, you're not cold too, are you?” she said as she crouched to scratch behind the albino Shiba Inu’s ears.
“So you are cold then?” Akihiko raised an eyebrow.
Without diverting her attention away from the shrine’s adorable furry resident, she spoke softly, “only my hands are.”
Akihiko nodded doubtfully but gazed back down at the dog. He looked healthy and cheery as ever wearing his classic winged doggy sweater. Koromaru followed them excitedly as they advanced in line. He’d grown a liking to them specifically.
At last it was their turn. They greeted the priest with a bow before approaching the altar. With nothing on his mind, Akihiko wished for a year of safety and security. It was plain and basic, but he really had nothing else he could think of. When they drew from the fortune box, both of them were lucky enough to draw a “Great Blessing.” That was a nice reward for their time spent in line.
It was still pretty early; they weren't meant to be at Junpei’s until noon. With over an hour to kill, they headed to Wilduck in Iwatodai strip mall: one of the few places open today. It wasn’t terribly far from Junpei’s apartment either which was another plus. Ai was unsettled about the prospect, but gave in on account of there really not being anything else to do indoors today.
Of course she would be, when Mochizuki was a shift manager here. They’d known each other for almost two decades as far as he knew, and yet she still couldn't stand him. Sure he was a little annoying at times, what with his incessant flirting on any woman (and Makoto), but he'd mellowed out over the years since he’d reintegrated into Japanese society.
He was still cheery as ever, especially when he spotted the two walk in.
“Happy New Year, guys!” he said with an excited wave. “Man, it's been slow this morning. Where's Makoto?”
Without looking up at him and with an almost robotic voice, Ai responded, “At home, asleep.”
Mochizuki’s face dropped, “geez, still so cold to me. When will you let that go, Ai? It's been years. I don’t have any plans to fight over Makoto anymore.”
Ai scoffed, giving him no further response to work with. Akihiko had never seen someone hold such a nasty grudge for so long. As far as he knew the guy had apologized over hitting on and professing his love for Makoto many times over since their high school days.
In an attempt to ease the tension, Akihiko cut in, “so, Mochizuki, if you're working will you be able to make it later today?” He shifted to customarily leaning his hand on his hip.
“Yes, actually. I’m only working a half day today. I'll be there closer to 3 if all goes well,” he smiled. A couple people wandered into the fast food joint, causing Mochizuki’s expression to pivot to a professional one. “Never mind that though, can I get you guys anything?”
Akihiko ordered a side of fries for the duo to share as they made their way to the table. Ai’s face softened slightly when her mortal enemy wasn't directly in her line of sight, but she still was far quieter than usual. She was like a child whenever it came to Mochizuki. Everyone had something though, he supposed. Nevertheless, they spent time chatting and catching up.
Mochizuki waved goodbye from behind the counter as they made their way out and towards Junpei’s. Unsurprisingly, they were the first ones to arrive at the beautiful third floor apartment.
The apartment was spacious with plenty of paintings on the walls, many of which held a macabre undertone, mounted in frilly, Victorian style frames. In the entryway sat a display shelf of a combination of baseball paraphernalia, trophies, various smaller sketches, knitted white and red bunnies, and framed photographs. On the very top in the centre sat a large photo of the residents of this apartment as bride and groom.
“We have arrived!” yelled Ai as they stepped into the apartment. Junpei’s back was to them when they reached the living room, focused on hanging some decorations which read “2017” from the ceiling.
“Hey guys! W-whoaaah,” Junpei said as he turned around, nearly losing his footing on the step stool. When he regained his balance, he jumped down to properly greet them. “Early as always, Ai-chan. Happy New Year guys!” he said with a clean clap on the back as he pulled each of them into a hug one at a time.
“Babe! Sanada-san and Ai-chan are here!” he called out in the direction of one of the other rooms before returning his attention to his guests. “Where's Makoto?”
“He slept in,” Ai said simply.
“Hah! Classic as always,” Junpei grinned, “sorry the place isn't fully set up yet. I didn't expect anyone to get here so early. But make yourselves at home! Lovin’ the yukata by the way, Ai-chan,” he complimented, half teasing.
The place was..surprisingly nice? He'd been here before, yet it felt entirely different? Was it the party decorations? Ah, there were new paintings hanging up. That’s probably what it was.
“Need any help?” Akihiko offered, noticing a pile of golden streamers still sitting on the table.
“That'd be awesome, thanks man!” Junpei thanked him as he busied himself with finishing up the set up for the party. The decorations felt like overkill but they were still a cute touch.
From the other room, Chidori entered. Her usual Gothic Lolita attire was swapped out for a baby pink yukata. She smiled at the two guests before sauntering over to Junpei and placing some sort of hors d’oeuvre in his mouth.
“Mmm!! So good!” Junpei cried out.
“Glad you like them,” she smiled back at him.
“What is it?” Akihiko asked curiously.
“Jalapeño poppers.”
“Sounds spicy,” Ai analyzed.
Chidori nodded, “they tend to be.”
“I had ‘em the first time when I was in the states a few years back for the WBC. Can't find ‘em at all here but man were they good. Then Chidorin got this new coworker who lived in I think Texas for a while? Turns out he had a recipe,” Junpei spoke with glee.
“Speaking of, the World Baseball Classic is happening this year, yes? Are you participating again?” Ai asked.
“Well, we don't know the roster for sure yet, buuut….I have a pretty good feeling.” Junpei smirked knowingly. Considering his batting record, the country would be shooting themselves in the foot if he wasn't selected.
The few of them continued their idle chit chat until the sound of the door was heard yet again.
“Hello? Sorry if I'm a little late…” came a high pitched, almost bird-like voice.
“Sorry for the intrusion! “ came a less familiar voice.
“Fuuka, welcome!” Junpei yelled back, “and long time no see Moriyama, how you been?”
So it was Moriyama. Akihiko couldn't recall having seen her in years, not since high school if he could recall correctly. Hadn't she moved away? Her hair was darker than when he last saw her. She'd since toned down her gyaru aesthetic, opting for a cute flowy blouse and fitted slacks instead. Yamagishi looked the same as always though. Her long teal hair was braided and pinned in a bun on the back of her head as she wore a green and white fleece shawl over a matching dress.
“I know it's not much, but I made this for the party.” She handed Junpei a batch of homemade macaroons.
“Woah, these look perfect…! Thanks!!” he grinned.
“And this is from me,” Moriyama followed up by handing over a bottle of sake. It looked high quality too. “Thanks for having me so last minute.”
Suddenly, Akihiko felt like a bad guest, and quietly turned to Ai. “Were we meant to have brought something too? It completely slipped my mind.”
“I don't believe so. I did think about it, but neither of us had the time,” she whispered back.
Yamagishi came up to Akihiko and Ai, wishing them a happy new year. Very quickly, Ai and Yamagishi fell into their usual chit-chat, leaving Akihiko to continue aiding Junpei in any last touches that he wanted done.
The rest of the attendees were arriving now, trickling in one after the other. Next were Takeba and Mitsuru, both of whom wore elegant yukata, clearly something the latter had acquired for the two of them. After them was Makoto who entered with a yawn. He looked as nonchalant as he always did. It was crazy how little he’d changed in all the years he'd known him. Even his style was basically unchanged. It was almost surreal.
Everyone (except Mochizuki) was here as far as he could tell, unless he was forgetting someone. Thus, he fell into conversation with Makoto.
“When I tell you these guys did not want my instructions, Makoto. They're paying me to show them how to build muscle effectively, yet they don't want to listen?” he scoffed.
“Their loss,” Makoto responded, quietly as always, as he took a sip of the drink he was holding.
“It gets worse. They claimed I ‘offended them’ by implying they were working out incorrectly. They were gearing up to fight me about it,” he spoke in disbelief before a smile crept onto his face. “Not like they stood a chance though. Challenging a boxer,” he scoffed as he folded his arms over his chest and shook his head, “what were they thinking?”
“Boxing?” Makoto asked with a tilt of his head.
“Yeah, of course box-” wait…boxing? Since when was he a boxer? “Sorry, I don't know why I said that.”
He knew basic self defence out of necessity, but boxing? Of course he'd never pick something like that up. Beating people up recreationally was so unappealing. He was a swimmer through and through: had been since his parents enrolled him shortly after he was adopted. His own apartment and his childhood bedroom were filled with trophies and medals from various meets and tournaments both nationally and internationally he'd won for his incredibly fast butterfly.
Why would he remember something about a sport he'd never had any desire to participate in? That fog from this morning was present again, and it felt strangely familiar yet foreign all the same. It was difficult to describe. He started to wrack his own brain, trying to get to the bottom of whatever abyss was lying before him. A dull headache was beginning to accompany the action.
Suddenly he felt a stiff smack on his back then an arm around his shoulder, pulling him back into reality again.
“Damn not even a text this morning,” spoke a rough deep voice, one all too nostalgic. “That's harsh, Aki.” The arm pulled him in closer.
Shinjiro was grinning down at him. Of course he was. How could he forget to call Shinji today? God, he was really off his game today.
“H-hey…” he said uneasily as the fog was dissipating again.
“Can you believe this guy, Makoto?” Shinji scoffed, “known him longer than almost anyone and sleep in the same bed as him, but the one night he goes home, he forgets I exist.” Shinjiro’s arm was still on his shoulder as he gestured towards him. He wore a simple maroon turtleneck which just barely reached the edge of his short brown hair. His face was full of energy, handsome dare he say. Akihiko's memory was playing tricks on him again, because why was he expecting him to have longer hair and bags under his eyes?
“Sorry…hangover I think,” Akihiko said as he clutched his head. The thoughts from before had vanished without a trace. Shinji being here helped to anchor him again, as he always tended to do, but…
“Hopeless moron,” he said as a smirk climbed onto his face, “check your phone more, dumbass.”
“Oh! Aragaki-Senpai, nice to see you!” Takeba came up behind them, “did you just get here?”
“Yeah, missed my train here,” he shifted his arm so that it instead rested on Akihiko's other shoulder, using him as a human armrest.
“You were out of town for a wedding right? How did the catering go?” she asked, her hands clasped behind her back as usual.
Shinji shook his head, “those high-end types can be a real pain in the ass. Had to remake the same dish 4 times for some prick,” he groaned, “got some nice tips from the groom though, and some bonus pay for havin’ to work the holidays.” He turned towards Akihiko with a grin, “I'm treatin' ya next time we're out.”
Akihiko smiled back at him. He’d only been gone a couple days, but the relief he felt was as though he’d been missing for an eternity. Was he always that needy?
“Oh, that reminds me. Mitsuru suggested that we do another group date. She offered we go to Yakushima next time we all can take off together.”
Akihiko's face lit up at the prospect. Yakushima wasn't all that far from main land, he could use the opportunity to-
“You're not swimming there,” Shinji said as though he read his mind.
“What? I didn't even-”
The three of them levelled him with a look. He always was a bit too predictable when it came to extreme challenges.
“Okay fine,” he huffed, “but I like the idea. I'm guessing Mitsuru is offering up the estate for us.”
Takeba nodded, “yep, her grandfather just finished with renovations. It's even bigger now.”
“Even bigger? What? It take up the whole damn island now?” Shinji said in disbelief.
“Nah, just a couple more guest rooms from what she told me,” she clarified. “Oh! And a tennis court.”
“Let's do it,” Makoto pitched in, “I can take off whenever.”
“Must be nice having such a flexible schedule,” Takeba laughed, “but I’ll have some time after this season wraps up filming in April. We can figure something out around then, yeah?”
Everyone in the circle agreed.
A group date would be nice…especially considering it would just end up being most of S.E.E.S. Many of his old high school friends he only got to see a few times a year when they could all get together like this. Mitsuru was always busy helping her father run the Kirijo Group, Junpei was travelling around Japan half the year, and Takeba was often out of town too for Featherman. He really only got to see Ai and Makoto (and Shinji) on the regular. Even then he still didn't see Makoto all that much.
Was that right though? He’d just seen Junpei the other week, he thought, and it felt like eons since Makoto showed his face anywhere. Not to mention Shinji…Time felt skewed, but maybe that was on account of his whole sleep schedule being out of whack since the 30th. He sometimes got like that when he stayed at his parents’ place without Shinji.
Nevertheless, the party went on. Mochizuki eventually arrived, whom Junpei greeted excitedly with a strong pat on the back. Shinji had moved into his natural environment to prepare the main course he’d brought for everyone. If he was being honest, he couldn’t remember such a peaceful, fun party with the whole crew in a long time.
Seeing everyone got him reminiscing on the past. It was amazing how Mitsuru was able to coerce everyone into joining her Greek literature club back then, especially Junpei. To be fair to him though, the Special Extracurricular Education Squad allowed the guy to graduate even with his abysmal grades, so there was that.
Suddenly, it occurred to him. He couldn’t recall a single book or piece of literature they looked at together, yet he was a founding member. There were weird, large gaps in his memory he was realizing. His third year of high school especially was like smudged ink on paper, bleeding into the years before but primarily impacting itself. Maybe best to get a second opinion about this, as thinking on his own was not helping him in the slightest today.
“Hey Mitsuru, I have sort of a weird question. Can you hear me out on it?” he asked as he approached her.
“Hm? Yes, please go ahead,” she said before apologizing to Moriyama as she turned away from whatever conversation they were having.
“Do you…remember anything we did or read in S.E.E.S.?”
“In high school?” she clarified as she went into thought herself.
“Yeah. I’m not sure why the thought occurred to me, but it feels like I just forgot everything that happened. First and second year are a little fuzzy too, but not nearly as bad as third year.”
“Well we read plenty of books on Greek mythology, I know that…” Mitsuru’s eyebrows creased together, working harder to recall more information. “We spent a lot of time convincing Shinjiro to join again, since he was about to flunk out from his poor academic attendance…Makoto and Ai both transferred in that year…” two fingers came to her forehead before she sighed in defeat. “I- I really can’t recall much else. That is concerning.”
“So it’s not just me then. I was chalking it up to a hangover, but some other things haven’t sat with me right today. I just…can’t quite put my finger on what it is, and now I can’t recall a large chunk of one whole year of my life.” Akihiko brought a hand to his chin in thought, yet the more he tried to dwell on those times, the more the ink smudged. The headache from before was returning too…
His thoughts were once again interrupted, almost too conveniently, by the ringing of his phone. There was an obnoxious string of random emojis in place of a name. The hell? “Sorry, Mitsuru, give me a second.”
“HAPPY NEW YEAR AKI!!!” yelled a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. Instinctively he pulled the phone away from his ear. He didn’t immediately recognize it, but… “WAIT WAIT I thought this was a video call oops! Let me try again.” The line immediately went dead before another call came through, this time a video call. When he answered, a young woman with silvery white hair and eyes to match was on the small phone screen. “Awesome! I can see you now. HAPPY NEW YEAR! It just hit midnight over here,” she laughed, slurring her words ever so slightly as a champagne flute dipped in and out of frame.
“Oh shit is that who I think it is?” Shinjiro said, walking up to his side with a big smile when he heard the phone, “took ya long enough to call.”
“SHINJI!!!!!” she yelled excitedly, “We’re so far behind you guys, I didn’t want to call until we caught up!” She shifted her focus back onto Akihiko, “you haven’t said anything big bro, c’moooon aren’t you gonna wish me a happy new year back??”
“Huh? Oh, right. Happy New Year, Miki,” a sad smile crept onto his face. Sad? Why was he sad? Because she was so far away, and he hardly got to see her in person. That must be it.
“Theeere it is!” she started laughing, “where are you guys anyways? Party??” Miki moved her phone around as if to get a better view in vain.
“Uh, yeah. With some old high school friends.” Akihiko’s voice was unsettled, shaky.
“Oh. Your bougie private school friends,” she teased.
Shinji laughed at her, “says the one whose parents moved her to Hollywood.”
“Touché!” She continued on laughing along with him.
Akihiko wanted to join in but remained frozen. A drop of water hit his phone screen, then another. Was there a leak from the ceiling?
“Awww miss me so much you’re crying, Aki?” she teased in a fake baby voice, “you’re such a softy, big bro.”
Oh, so he was crying. Why was he crying? It was just Miki. They called every week at least once, despite their time difference. A tradition her adoptive parents allowed her to start right after she’d left the orphanage nearly two decades ago. It started with them meeting to play together while she still lived in the Port Island area. Her new family had only remained there for another year or so before they moved to Tokyo, and then a few years later to Los Angeles. He was jealous of her for getting adopted first, after all he was the older brother. In her defence though, younger kids were easier to adopt out. Frankly it was a miracle he got adopted at all.
“I promise I’ll come visit Japan soon, so don’t cry so much big bro!” A friend came up to tell her something before she turned back to the camera, “Oops! I gotta go now. Byeeeee, take good care of the idiot, Shinji!” She all but sang before hanging up without allowing Akihiko nor Shinji the chance to respond.
Akihiko didn't register her egging insult at all. Instead, he just kept blinking away tears that barely felt present. He needed to step outside for a moment, collect himself from…whatever was shaking him up like this. It was snowing outside, making the nighttime look brighter, more bearable. Why had speaking to Miki gotten him so unstable? He was strong, wasn’t he? So why….? Reality seemed to shift and warp, perhaps from the tears ever so slightly obscuring his vision. The fog in his mind grew heavier, the pressure stronger. His brain was being strangled. The door to the balcony opened. Shinji had come to join him.
“Hey,” he said, leaning his back and elbows against the railing. “You okay?”
Akihiko’s voice got stuck in his throat. How was he meant to answer that? “I’m…not sure…” He turned his head up to face the sky. Snowflakes gently fell on his face, but always avoided his eyes. It was cold, yet it hardly bothered him today.
Shinjiro raised an eyebrow. “What’s on your mind, Aki?”
“I’m not sure how to explain it ... This whole day, it’s been like a dream. An amazing dream, but still, just a dream,” he began to explain, his voice far shakier than normal. “I know I’m awake. I know everything in front of me is reality, but…this nagging voice in my head keeps yelling at me that things aren’t right! And I- I don’t-”
Shinjiro silently placed a hand on top of his own. His hands were warm, grounding. They always were.
“Thanks,” Akihiko muttered. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I'm sure I'm just overthinking anyway, but I can't shake this feeling that there's just…something wrong.”
Shinjiro sighed as he removed his hand to light up a cigarette, “somethin’ wrong, huh?”
“Yes. Tell me you've felt it too, Shinji,” Akihiko asked as desperation began to creep into his words, “This weird…off feeling! Like…square blocks are being forced into circular holes! My memories are hazy. I’m remembering things I shouldn’t know anything about, yet forgetting important details I should remember!”
When Shinjiro looked at him strangely and failed to respond, Akihiko grew further frustrated. God what he wouldn’t do to swim his problems away.
A disgruntled yell escaped his throat as he instinctively threw his fist against the terrace’s partition. It stung, distracted him from the worsening headache threatening to cleave his head in two. So he punched again, then a third time. His knuckles may have started bleeding for all he knew; it didn't matter. Nevertheless, he wound up to throw another punch.
A hand caught his wrist. “This wall ain’t your enemy, Aki. All you’re gonna do is hurt yourself.” Shinji spoke with his usual coolness, but his face contained traces of worry.
Akihiko glared daggers at him, as if the action were a sign of betrayal. After a moment, his face softened in defeat and he huffed a sigh. “Sorry, no, you’re right.”
Shinjiro released his wrist, and he dropped his arms. He still felt unsteady, anxious; his hands were shaking like earthquakes. He was probably still crying, for which he still hadn’t figured out why, and his head further pounded anytime he tried to dig for the root cause through that thick fog, as if being choked by rubber bands. Suddenly he couldn’t register anything in his line of sight. Oh god this was getting bad.
He heard Shinjiro sigh in mild annoyance before feeling his weight shift. Abruptly, Akihiko was pulled up from the railing into the other’s chest. Akihiko was taken aback by the sudden action but did not resist.
“What are you doing?” he asked. A stupid question, but in his defense he couldn't make heads or tails of anything right now.
“Hugging you, dumbass,” Shinjiro said softly, tenderly, “I can’t do that now?”
“N-no it’s just-” Akihiko started but realized he had no clue what he was trying to say. The pressure of Shinji’s arms around his back and the darkness brought on by the crook of his neck were soothing, comforting. Was this how it always was? Maybe that wasn’t such an important thought right now. Shinjiro smelled of cigarettes and katsudon. While Akihiko never was pleased with the former’s scent, when it emanated off of Shinji it was a different story.
This all led to the tears which were falling steadily and quietly beginning to pour out more abruptly, as Akihiko promptly let out a pained scream into his chest. It was necessary, as if dispelling a deep seated grief that should never have been present in the first place. As if dispelling whatever curse was causing his Swiss cheese-like memory. Being caged within Shinji’s arms gave the safety he needed to defuse that bomb in his head, to unravel the cords wound tightly around his brain. Akihiko couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten like this, broken down like this. A tiny, fading whisper told him there was a time in high school in which he was rendered into this state. He recalled a vague memory of Shinji telling him that crying would change nothing, but the context of that time was falling further and further away.
Shinjiro didn’t say a word, didn’t even utter a sound. He remained fixed in place, as he allowed Akihiko to let out whatever anxieties were plaguing him. When he’d take a puff, his remaining arm would tighten to compensate for the missing other. They stayed in this state for who knows how long as snowflakes gently kissed their heads and shoulders.
When his eyes dried and his heart slowed back down, he shifted to attempt to free himself, which Shinjiro obliged.
“Thank you, Shinji.” With a sniffle of his nose, an unsteady laugh escaped him as he noticed the mess that was the crook of Shinji’s collarbone, “I think I ruined your sweater, sorry about that.”
He stared down at Akihiko and grunted, “Don’t worry about that, how are you doing?”
“Much better,” his head felt freer somehow, lighter, clearer. Any traces of the fog had vanished without trace. He suddenly felt more himself than he had all day today. With a new found strength and determination, he spoke, “let’s head back inside.”
The party was quieter than before. Moriyama had gone home and Mitsuru and Takeba were gearing up to leave themselves. The former noticed Akihiko, though, and came up to him. “Akihiko, about our conversation from earlier-” she started, the leader-like analytical tone present in her voice.
“Don’t worry about it,” he flashed a warm, confident smile back at her, “it’s all starting to come back to me. I’m sure it was just my lack of sleep.”
Mitsuru gazed at him skeptically, but dropped it, smiling herself in turn, “very well then.” She turned to the woman beside her, “are you ready, Yukari? We’re running a bit late.”
Takeba nodded as they headed for the entryway, “as I’ll ever be! Besides, Dad isn’t too worried if we’re late. I told him we’re coming from something else.” To everyone else, she shouted into the apartment, “take care guys! Happy New Year again!”
“Regardless, I wouldn’t want to burden your parents anymore than-” Mitsuru continued, their conversation being cut short as they closed the door behind them.
In the main room, Junpei had set up Karaoke with Mochizuki, and was forcing Makoto to join in. Ai and Yamagishi clapped along cheerily as Chidori watched on, amused. Junpei was not hitting any of the notes correctly, not to mention the song was severely out of his range, but it was entertaining at the very least. Ryoji was slightly better, but faced a similar problem on range to Junpei. Makoto sounded the best, but his quieter voice was unfortunately drowned out. It didn’t help that Junpei would slosh a sip of a beer in the short respites where he wasn’t singing.
Shinji had moved to leaning against the counter as he watched on as well. When he caught Akihiko’s attention, he jerked his head to beckon him over with a smirk. Akihiko gladly took up the offer and positioned himself beside him. Almost immediately Shinjiro wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. Crossing his arms, he gazed at the room around him. As he watched his old friends gleefully make fools of themselves, felt Shinji’s warmth around him and gentle kisses to the top of his head, Akihiko’s mind was filled with nothing but bliss. He couldn’t tell if the inconsistencies were all in his head or an actual issue anymore. He was happy, and that’s all that mattered.
riiiing riiiiing riiiiing
Akihiko shot up and rubbed his eyes when he heard the station phone ringing. These long, short-staffed shifts were getting to him.
With a groggy hand he picked up the receiver and answered, “Pawlonia Mall Police Department.”
“Sanada-san, sorry, but I might’ve left my scarf there. Could you check?”
Ah, it was just Kurosawa-san. Peering over at his boss's desk, he spotted the blue knit scarf bunched up atop it. “Yeah, it's there.”
Kurosawa-san let out a sigh of relief, “good. I'd hate to lose it, my late wife knitted it. That's all, thanks.” The other end of the line clicked, and Akihiko was left alone at the small station again.
With a stretch of his arms, he resumed work on the report he started before he briefly dozed off. As if he'd forgotten, he quickly reread through what was written up to this point. Ah yes, the tragic murder of that university student at the Mahjong parlour last week. Some drunken brawl had gotten out of hand, and the victim ended up pushed down the steps of the parlour. He'd helped to catch the guy as he tried to flee in terror and regret. Before leaving, he’d bought some white lilies from the nearby Rafflesia stand and placed them in the corner where empty milk crates were almost always present. He'd formed a habit out of it almost anytime he ended up in those seedy outskirts, which was unfortunately quite often.
When his shift finally ended and his coworker arrived to take his place, Akihiko left for his small studio apartment. The strong, cold winds of February buffeted his face, stinging his nose and ears, as he trekked home.