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Hibiki hated respirators – they were hot, uncomfortable, tight, and made him extremely and thoroughly claustrophobic. Since the seal had to be airtight around one’s face, this meant the bottom of the respirator would cut into the underside of his jaw, giving him the sensation of being throttled, and the air sucked through the canisters was thin and artificial, making him feel like he was trapped under rubble all those years ago, with a frightened Yamato beneath him. It was not pleasant in the slightest.
There was also the fact that it made him sweat – a lot. He would feel it rolling down his cheeks and even his nose, his breaths wet inside the respirator. It was utterly gross – and that was when Hibiki did nothing but stand around. When he had to do something that required effort, like, say, running, he was fucked before twenty seconds rolled past.
All in all, respirators were not fun.
Which was why, at that current moment in time, Hibiki was in a foul mood. Due to the nature of his job, Hibiki needed some training in defending himself against poisonous and toxic air, and that meant doing drills and exercises in respirators and a full CBRN suit. But at least training was low risk – the worst that would happen was gassing oneself with tear gas – it was alright if you cheated or fucked up in this or that drill.
But in a real situation…
Hibiki heaved a short sigh, resisting the urge to grip at his respirator. It was tight on his face, cutting into the underside of jaw – as per usual – and the Velcro of CBRN suit’s hood was scratching against his Adam’s apple, but he didn’t dare try to adjust it lest he broke the seal around his face. The air was tinged a faint yellow from the toxins, and Hibiki had seen the effects enough to definitely not want it anywhere on his skin.
In the haze, Hibiki could see other JP’s members milling about – it was a street in Shibuya, so it was surreal seeing people in near hazmat suits standing outside of the shops, or in the middle of the roads, leaning over these devices, when the place would normally be bustling with a crowd full of students or young adults. There was a cordon set up roughly several streets away from Ground Zero (as it was dubbed), but they were trying to keep as many people as possible even further away. They weren’t sure how far this gas could travel in the air, since the source was purely demonic, and it was one of those rare times where JP’s was working alongside government forces on equal footing to deal with the situation.
A dangerous gas leak, the news was saying. It was true, even if the source of the gas was more than a little fudged.
“Hibiki,” a muffled voice called. Hibiki turned to see someone standing before him – dressed in a full CBRN suit, the visor of their respirator glinting in the dull light from the sun above. He didn’t recognise him at first, until his gaze hit on the small nametag on his chest.
‘Chief Director Yamato Hotsuin’
“How’d you guess it was me?” Hibiki asked. He felt like he was trying to talk into a can with how his voice sounded, and he saw Yamato leaning forwards slightly, as if struggling to hear him properly. Hibiki didn’t blame him. The speech module of these masks only had one volume, and that was ‘whispering in a wind tunnel’ level.
“…have you been to the epicentre yet?” Yamato asked after a pause. Hibiki didn’t know if he was ignoring his question, or just didn’t hear him.
“No. Just been chilling here. Well,” Hibiki’s tone became wry, “as well as I can in this horrible suit. I feel like a crisp packet.”
“It is uncomfortable,” Yamato admitted neutrally. Hibiki saw his gloved fingers tug at the Velcro of his sleeves, and smirked. So, even Yamato couldn’t help but fidget in these horrible suits. Glad to know he wasn’t the only one suffering at that moment. “In any case, come.”
Hibiki heaved a sigh, and dragged his feet after Yamato when the man strode off. They did sound like crisp packets when moving, the fabric of their suits scratching loud enough to be heard even through the respirators. The amount of people increased the further they walked, as well as the haziness in the air, until they were standing at the edge of a small crater. A strange, black bud was situated in the middle of the crater, its tip spewing out a yellow haze in a continuous stream.
Next to them, Fumi was crouched – or, Hibiki was presuming it to be Fumi, everyone looked the same in these gas masks and suits. She had a strange, handheld device in her possession, and was tilting her head this way and that, a muffled mutter escaping her every so often.
“Has your investigation yielded anything?” Yamato asked her.
“Hmm…” Fumi didn’t say anything, straightening up from the floor and holding the handheld device to Yamato. He took it, and Hibiki tried to peer over his shoulder to read; but nearly ended up headbutting Yamato with one of the canisters on his respirator instead. He was swiftly elbowed back a step.
“It’s interesting, Chief,” Fumi said, her tone the same, even drawl it always was. “Looks like this ‘plant’s’ been here for a long while – its roots have been here since Shibuya was built, no doubt.”
Yamato was silent, his head bowed towards the handheld device. Hibiki turned to Fumi.
“How’s it stayed here for so long without being found, then? Or, uh, sprouting?”
Fumi’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It most likely hit its germination period,” she said. Somehow, she must have sensed Hibiki’s blank stare, because she gave an irritated sounding grunt and explained; “You know how seeds hibernate during winter, only to sprout in spring when all the frost is gone? Think of this plant like that. We’ve entered its ‘spring’ – or something specific must have triggered its growth.” She crossed her arms, a small noise rumbling in her respirator, “It’s also difficult to find hibernating demons – especially if we don’t know it’s there in the first place. There are hundreds of demons throughout the world sleeping beneath human cities and the like.”
Well. That wasn’t disturbing at all.
“So… what can we do?” Hibiki asked. “It’s like a weed then, right? Or, something? Should we just burn its roots or-”
“This gas is highly flammable,” Yamato interrupted. “We would have to dispel the gas first before burning the roots, but,” he looked up, at the black, grotesque bud in the crater, “We’ll need to stop, or contain, the bud to efficiently dispel the gas.”
“The gas’s non-persistent,” Fumi said. “It’ll go away by itself after ten minutes, fifteen at the most, but that will be time we won’t have. We could, instead, erect a magical barrier around the plant and use a demon skilled in purifying to eradicate the gas.”
“A demon skilled in purifying…” Hibiki muttered quietly, “Do we have one like that in active stock?”
Yamato was quiet for a long moment. “…we could, perhaps, ask assistance from Amaterasu for the purifying. Our family have some sort of contract with her.”
Hibiki hid his amazement with a quiet “oh, really?” and peeked upwards at the sun glaring through the yellow haze. He shouldn’t be surprised. The Hotsuin family had an in with almost every god or goddess in existence, it seemed like.
“However, the magical barrier is somewhat problematic,” Yamato took a few paces along the crater, his boots thudding lowly against the cracked tarmac. “Magical barriers generally don’t deal well with gaseous elements.”
“…explains why I can’t just have Shield All around me instead of this horrible thing,” Hibiki grumbled, tapping the canister on his respirator. Yamato nodded.
“Magical barriers are for physical or supernatural threats. Against chemical agents, it is… dependable on the situation.”
“Could we just tailor a magical barrier to work just on gas?” Hibiki suggested, “I mean magic’s versatile like that, right? We can just experiment.”
Fumi seemed to perk at that word, but Yamato gained a contemplative air around him.
“…we are a bit far from the tower, but…” Yamato’s voice was too muffled to clearly make out, but Hibiki caught the gist quickly. He felt his stomach drop a bit.
“The Dragon Stream? Isn’t that a bit…” Hibiki rubbed his gloved hands together anxiously, the rubber squeaking at the friction. The Dragon Stream always carried risks, but it was used for barriers and protection. Hibiki could see the leap in logic – the only issue was trying to use it.
“We won’t be manifesting it into a physical form, so Lugh and a sacrifice will not be required,” Yamato said, his tone hardening a bit. “I will simply have to try and localise its barrier down to a single spot for a short amount of time.”
Was that possible? It sounded like it would be difficult to condense the Dragon Stream’s barrier into such a small point. Compared to the whole of Tokyo, the bud was downright microscopic. It would be like crushing a star into a five inch cube.
“Can you do that?” Hibiki asked, worry leaking into his tone, “I mean you’d have to consciously meddle about with the Dragon Stream to do that, right?”
Yamato handed the device over to Fumi, his movements casual. “The strain will be manageable – and it will only be for mere minutes. However, I will be unable to give active commands in this time. You will be in charge of the area here.”
Hibiki’s shoulders slumped, “I guess I will be dealing with Amaterasu, then?”
“Yes. You would be better suited to that role, in fact. Diplomacy is your strong suit,” Hibiki could practically hear the smirk in Yamato’s tone. “Makoto will be in charge of the actual destruction of the plant. I will relay the orders to her once I leave the quarantine zone.”
Yeah, Hibiki could understand that. It was difficult to use the small buttons on a mobile phone with thick, rubber gloves on.
“Aye, aye, Chief,” Hibiki said wearily, hanging his shoulders forwards in an exaggerated slump. “This is going to be the death of me…”
Yamato made a noise that could have been a chuckle. “Hmph. Possibly. Kanno,” he turned to the woman, “You will assist Hibiki in the summoning and negotiation with Amaterasu. You do remember the coordinates to her seal, correct?”
“Sure thing, Chief,” Fumi replied, her tone almost bored.
“Good,” Yamato gave a curt nod, “Then let us get this operation underway. Do not disappoint me, Hibiki.”
“Wasn’t planning to,” Hibiki grumbled, before he grinned a little behind his respirator. “Wait, before you go…”
Yamato paused, already half-turned to leave, and tilted his head at Hibiki. Innocently, Hibiki stepped over to Yamato, reaching out and – he gripped the edges of Yamato’s hood, and pulled him forwards until the front covers of their respirators banged together in a mockery of a kiss. Hibiki immediately felt Yamato’s hands shove him away by the shoulders.
“Idiot,” Yamato snapped – without any true anger or venom – and promptly turned on his heel, marching off quickly. Hibiki gave him a cheeky wave, even if his partner wouldn’t see it.
“Right,” Hibiki turned back to Fumi, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get to it.”
Hibiki had never been to Ise Grand Shrine, but he had heard of it. It was a large shrine complex composed of many Shinto shrines, with Naiku and Geku being the two main ones. The one that he and Fumi – as well as some other JP’s members to act as minions – went to was Naiku, the shrine that was dedicated to the worship of Amaterasu-omikami and the home of her sacred mirror – supposedly. No one had ever seen it, since the public were denied access to the central structures.
In fact, Hibiki was amazed that he and Fumi could just waltz in as they did. He knew the Hotsuin family had connections, but considering one usually needed to be of the Japanese imperial bloodline to be allowed free reign over these sacred shrines (as they were reportedly descended from Amaterasu)… it was a little daunting. How far did the Hotsuin influence reach within Japan? They were its protectors, so maybe they were allowed into such spiritual sites whenever they wished? Yamato did say they had some form of contract with Amaterasu…
But that mystery really wasn’t important right now. Hibiki managed to get inside of the shrine, even if he was under the watchful eye of the shrine’s high priest, and was standing in a large, dimly lit hall. The floors were wooden, smelling strongly of age – but not rot – with incense hanging strongly in the air. There was a platform at the end of the hall, a brilliant mirror erected there.
It looked perfect. There was not a single blemish on its silver surface – no smudges or scratches, and there was even a subtle glow ebbing from it. If Hibiki listened closely, he could hear a soft humming. It was… soothing. The entire room was soothing, like returning home after a very long time away. It made some of the tension in Hibiki’s shoulders ease – especially as he was alone here. The High Priest would only allow one person to enter this hall, and even then, they seemed very hesitant to do so. Fumi hadn’t been happy to stay behind, but she had hung back with surprising obedience.
Hibiki moved after a long moment of drinking in the comforting atmosphere, his footsteps echoing loudly. He stood before the platform containing the mirror, and slipped his phone out of his pocket. Yamato gave him the code to unlock the seal, but Hibiki was a bit unsure on how to do it. Did he seriously just type the code into his phone and wait?
The code looked more like someone’s phone number, to be honest. Feeling dubious, Hibiki tapped the number into his phone, and pressed call. It rang, and rang, and rang, and rang…
Then it clicked as if it was picked up. Surprised, Hibiki held it up to his ear instinctively.
“Hello?”
“Hello,” a gentle voice replied, one so soft and soothing that Hibiki started in bewilderment. He held the phone away from his ear, staring at it, before staring at the mirror – then back at his phone. He was a bit perplexed on what to do. He held the phone back to his ear.
“Is this Amaterasu?” Hibiki asked dumbly. Laughter filled the other end.
“Indeed it is, Hibiki Kuze-Hotsuin.”
“…” Okay.
“I know what it is you require, Kuze-Hotsuin,” the voice, Amaterasu (this was so weird, talking to a sun goddess on the phone of all things) said, “And I will grant it. I swore to assist the Hotsuin so long as their purpose remained selfless and pure.”
“Ah?” Hibiki couldn’t help the confused noise slipping out, “So, if they became, I dunno, corrupt…?”
“Then retribution would be dealt.”
Oh.
“Oh,” Hibiki swallowed a bit, feeling a bit of a cold sweat breaking out over him. Retribution by the sun goddess, mother of all, was probably not something very pleasant.
“I presume your partner did not tell you of this before you were joined?”
Amaterasu’s voice had taken on an amused tone, and Hibiki’s mouth opened soundlessly for a moment. He was just so- so baffled. He didn’t even know why. He normally wasn’t this dorky, but there was something genuinely bewildering about this entire situati- what did she mean by joined?
“Joi- wh- like, you mean,” Hibiki’s face started turning a bit red. Like, sex? Why would she- what- no wait, there were other matters to attend to! “Uh, so, this plant…”
“You are now joined to Yamato Hotsuin, correct?” Amaterasu asked, ignoring Hibiki’s weak attempt to change the subject, “You have been submitted into the contract as any other marrying party would. Was this a mistake?”
…
“…”
…
Marrying… party…?
…??
??!?!?!?!?
!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!!?
“Uh, I dunno what… you’ve been hearing but…” Hibiki trailed off and then slowly shook his head. This was – too off topic. Too weird. Hibiki decided to just let it drop because, that was just too weird. Weird demon rambling. Yes.
But he was definitely grilling Yamato on submitting him into contracts as a married party without telling him later.
“Yeah. But, right, yeah. So are you gonna meet me back in Shibuya, or, here, or – so what’s happening right now?”
“Young people are so informal nowadays,” Amaterasu sighed, and Hibiki winced. Oops, he had been speaking – very casually. He was just used to it. He hurried to apologise, but the goddess cut him off with a good tempered laugh, “No need to worry. I will meet you there, Hibiki Kuze-Hotsuin, fear not. I will cleanse the evil poison that has overtaken the land.”
“Great. Um, thank you, Amaterasu,” Hibiki said awkwardly, uncertain if he should stick a respective honorific there or not. The phoneline clicked, instead, signalling that the goddess had hung up.
Hibiki lowered his phone and stared at it for a long moment.
…
So fucking weird.
Fumi didn’t comment on Hibiki’s distracted state when they made their way back to Shibuya (and back into those hideous respirators and CBRN suits), and when they made their way into Ground Zero – there was no sign of Amaterasu. Hibiki was a little nervous, but he was certain the sun goddess wouldn’t stand them up. She would probably arrive at the proper moment.
Yamato was preparing to condense the Dragon Stream at that moment anyway, Hibiki having told him his side of the mission was a success. He made no mention of the whole marriage confusion – as bewildering as it was, Hibiki was good at compartmentalising issues. He’d deal with it after the poison plant was neutralised.
Makoto, meanwhile, had been busy in both his and Yamato’s absence. Standing before the crater, she stood with a high class demon – Nyarlathotep – at her side. It was unaffected by the yellow toxin, its faceless head tilted strangely as it stared – or so Hibiki was guessing – at the black plant, its wings stretched wide.
“Where… did you get that?” was the first thing out of Hibiki’s mouth. Nyarlathotep was ridiculously powerful – not to say that Makoto was a weak Demon Tamer, on the contrary, she was very impressive, but Hibiki recalled her not having that type of demon in her possession before. Where did she get it from?
“Fusion,” Makoto replied. She looked strange in her CBRN suit, standing in an awkward kind of way – trying to stand to her usual attention, but having difficulty in doing so effectively in the baggy yet restrictive clothing. Hibiki gave her props for trying, though.
“I’m seriously impressed. I think it’s stronger than what I have,” Hibiki said honestly. Well, that was a lie – he did have a powerful demon reserved only for emergencies, but he kept it very very quiet – not even Yamato knew. He would have kittens if he knew, no doubt.
“I wanted to ensure that the threat was eradicated as thoroughly as possible first time,” Makoto said, her tone firm. Hibiki nodded in understanding. It would take a lot out of Yamato to do this once – so they only had one chance at this, really.
“Fair enough- hm?”
The air suddenly felt…strange. Hibiki couldn’t describe how, but even beneath the layers of protective clothing, he could feel something prickle across his skin like an electrical current. He was on guard instantly, and he saw Makoto shift the same way, their heads tilting upwards towards the sky. It was rippling like the surface of a pool…
Then with a noise like a coin pinging against metal, something crashed into the crater. The very earth trembled, and Hibiki barely kept his balance, swinging his arms out wildly as dust was thrown up high into the air. He resisted the instinct to grab at his mobile (which he couldn’t even if he wanted to), squinting vainly behind his respirator. Dust clung to his visor, and he scrubbed at it with an irritated noise, smudge marks making it difficult to see.
By the time he cleaned his visor enough to see clearly, the source of the disruption was clear: a shimmering, golden shield was erected around the black bud – a shield that was quickly filling with thick gas the longer Hibiki stared at it.
“Ah-”
“Hibiki!” Makoto called, startling him out of his surprised daze, “Call Amaterasu, quickly! Chief can only hold this shield for so long!”
Ah-! That’s right!
“Uh! Amaterasu!” Hibiki called out, even waving his arms up at the sky as if trying to catch the attention of a passing, low-flying plane. “We need your help! Um! Please?”
For a moment, there was a long silence, and underneath his respirator, Hibiki felt his face slowly heat up the longer it dragged. He could feel Makoto staring at him, and he awkwardly lowered his arms, looking left and right in embarrassment. This was… did he have to do something? Do a dance? Sing a song? Recite a sutra? Yamato normally did this sh-
“Apologies for the wait.”
Hibiki practically leapt a foot in the air at the voice coming directly behind him, and he nearly tripped over spinning around so quickly. Behind him stood a beautiful woman – her clothes were traditional and flowing, something that an Empress would wear, her hair dark and shimmering, and her face serene. Painted eyes gazed at Hibiki, glowing with power, and her red lips curved into a gentle smile.
Lifting a slim hand, she waved it, and the toxic haze lingering in the air vanished as if it was never there. She made it look so amazingly easy. How-? Hibiki shook his head as if dazed, and turned to Makoto who seemed to be equally stunned by Amaterasu. Nyarlathotep, however, looked to be cringing, the demon clearly discomforted by the goddess’s presence.
“Uh, Makoto…”
“…oh! Yes, um, excuse me,” Makoto’s voice was embarrassed, and she turned sharply towards the plant. The barrier was still firmly in place, and she held out an arm, warding Hibiki back. “Please evacuate the immediate area! Inferno will now be unleashed!”
Hibiki didn’t need telling twice. He hurriedly backed away several yards, Amaterasu following him gracefully. Once Makoto deemed him a safe distance, she lifted her arm – and then swung it down in a sharp motion. Nyarlathotep released Inferno, and both it and Makoto were swallowed up in an almighty blaze.
And that was the end of that.
But not the end of another issue.
Hibiki had kept quiet about it while the clean-up crew managed Shibuya. Amaterasu had eradicated the lingering poison entirely, and the plant, without its roots, died swiftly enough when the barrier was removed. Yamato, thankfully, was not injured from manipulating the Dragon Stream into such a small point, but he was clearly exhausted from it. It didn’t stop him from single-handedly trying to manage the clean-up. It took Hibiki and Makoto to force him to share the burden.
It was when it was that day’s late evening that Hibiki brought it up. They were both home then (less chance of collateral damage), and Yamato was tired and relaxed on the sofa, dressed casually and with a wad of paperwork in his lap (meaning his guard was lowered). Hibiki was in his pyjamas, knees tucked up to his chest and not-watching the news report on the gas leak in Shibuya.
“So… Amaterasu told me something interesting,” Hibiki mumbled, managing to keep his tone casual, his gaze not moving from the television screen.
Yamato hummed in response, his eyes still skimming over the report in his hands. He didn’t tense up, or seem edgy – or so Hibiki could see from his sneaky side-glances. Yamato had a killer poker face, but he wasn’t good at hiding tension. So either he hadn’t pegged, or Amaterasu had just been exaggerating or…
“She said that you’ve introduced me into your contracts as a married party.”
Yamato lifted his head at last, but he still didn’t seem bothered. “Hm? Ah, yes, I did.”
Hibiki abandoned pretence of casualness, and openly stared at him. Yamato stared back at him blankly. What could he say to such a blunt confession? Hibiki genuinely didn’t know how to react – or what to think. He finally settled for; “Why?”
“It’s the most efficient way,” Yamato said, his gaze lowering to his paperwork once more. “With next of kin, a married partner usually takes priority over other family members – so in case of my death, all my contracts and other assets would be automatically handed over to you instead of the Hotsuin family.”
…it was such a Yamato-esque answer that Hibiki didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in frustration.
“Yamato,” Hibiki said, his tone controlled, “Are you seriously admitting that you – you married me without me knowing about it?”
Yamato looked up again, except that this time his eyebrows were furrowed. Something seemed to click in his brain. “…you’re angry,” he observed neutrally.
No shit, Hibiki wanted to snap, but he kept it in. His blood was boiling a little because he – he couldn’t fully explain why he was so angry at that point in time, because he doubted Yamato would actually get it, and it would just lead into this horrible, messy fight and a hellish week of sulking and cold shoulders. Hibiki didn’t want that.
“I’m a little… annoyed,” Hibiki said diplomatically, “You don’t do stuff like that without my permission. Marriage’s a… really big thing, okay, and, it’s better if your partner knows about it when it happens. It’s like… sex.”
Yamato was frowning at him. “Sex?”
“Yeah. You need to make sure your partner’s one hundred per cent into it, right?” Hibiki said, uncurling his knees from his chest and maintaining eye contact with Yamato, trying to impart the seriousness of this. “So, you need to ask, and have them do it willingly, not, coercing or manipulating them – or even doing it without them knowing.”
There was a long pause, one where Yamato stared at Hibiki like he was an utter lunatic. Not a promising start.
“Are you comparing my actions to rape?”
“No! No, no, no,” Hibiki said quickly – let’s not even touch that with a ten foot pole. “No, what I’m saying is that this is something that requires communication! Like, you said that we were equals, didn’t you? You marrying us behind my back, without asking me or even telling me about it, shows that you don’t think that at all.”
That definitely struck home for Yamato, as he fluffed up a little like an offended water fowl, “I do think-”
“Consciously, you might think so,” Hibiki interrupted, “But this shows that subconsciously, you don’t. Like, seriously, how hard would it have been if you just asked about it? Even if it was for efficiency, it wouldn’t be so hard as to go ‘oh by the way do you want to be signed onto my contracts, you just have to fake-marry me’, would it?”
Yamato didn’t reply.
Hibiki felt a bit of suspicion then, “I mean, I know that you have a weird way of viewing stuff like this – it’s like a business contract, right? Unless, you know exactly what marriage means, emotionally, and didn’t ask in case I said no…” Which would have meant that – had Yamato actually wanted to be married to hi-
“Civilians view marriage in a sentimental way,” Yamato said stiffly, “There was a possibility that you would decline in favour of this sentimentality, even if a normal marriage of that type would be impossible for you.”
…Ow. Blunt.
“Even so,” Hibiki said, forcing his tone to be patient, “What you did was really wrong. I feel that you don’t trust me at all – and we’ve had this conversation before, remember? About trusting me.”
Yamato was shifting in his seat a little now, and Hibiki knew that his partner was aware of his wrongdoings, but was reluctant to admit them or even address them. The sad thing was he knew Yamato long enough to see things from his point of view, and to understand them. To Yamato, marriage was purely business. The nature of his family meant that marriages were arranged in a way to yield offspring with beneficial genetics, or to forge needed connections or alliances. Marrying someone for sentimental reasons was utterly alien to those of the Hotsuin family – hell, Yamato’s relationship with Hibiki was a miracle considering his upbringing. He was with Hibiki because he genuinely cared about him in a romantic way – not solely because of cost-benefit reasons (although Hibiki knew that played a large part in fostering Yamato’s affection for him, he was a realist).
So, marriage wasn’t a big deal to Yamato. He just signed Hibiki up to a beneficial arrangement in his eyes. It wasn’t anything special. Really. Hibiki understood that.
But that didn’t mean he was going to excuse it.
“Yamato…” Hibiki said gently, and he leaned over the sofa slightly, resting his weight on the seat as he closed the distance between them. “If you asked, I would have said yes, you know? Do you know why?”
Yamato stared at him with a tense expression. “No.”
It was best to be just as blunt – it was the only language Yamato understood; “Because I want to marry you, all the civilian sentimentalities attached, even if you only think of it as another beneficial contract.”
Yamato didn’t say anything in response. He sat there stiffly, and shifted as if he was going to get up and walk away. He didn’t. Instead, he stayed in place by sheer force of will, and Hibiki was grateful to the courage his partner was showing at that moment. He wouldn’t’ve been surprised if Yamato had bolted.
“But,” Hibiki’s tone firmed, “Instead, you didn’t trust me, and went behind my back to force me into a marriage without my permission. That’s normally a dealbreaker.”
Yamato tensed up so much it was almost painful to witness. Hibiki quickly softened his next words.
“It’s okay. I understand where you were coming from,” he said, “But that doesn’t mean I’m excusing what you’ve done.” Hibiki leaned back, tucking his knees back against his chest. “You have to make it up to me with a proper marriage proposal. If you don’t, then I guess I’ll have to look up ways to get it annulled. I’m only accepting it if it’s done properly.”
Hibiki kept his eyes glued onto the television screen when he finished speaking, keeping his expression calm. He had to be firm in this – he couldn’t give in a fraction. He did begin to get a bit anxious when the silence stretched into awkward territory, Yamato not moving an inch from his seat on the sofa. Probably thinking rapidly, or overthinking things, or confusing himself – who knew how Yamato’s brain worked under genuine stress? But Hibiki was not backing down on this. It was his way, or the highway!
Finally, Hibiki heard the sofa springs squeak. He peeked from the corner of his eye to see that Yamato had shifted to sit next to him. An awkward pause ensued, and all Hibiki could see from his side glancing were Yamato’s hands – bare, without the gloves – clasped tightly in his lap.
“…” Yamato gave a quiet, subtle sigh, “Hibiki.” He stopped abruptly.
“…yeah?”
Yamato didn’t say anything, and instead moved back to his original position so there was some distance between them. Hibiki was bemused. “…it would be beneficial to us both if you would accept the marriage between us,” Yamato muttered to his knees, “do you accept?”
“…” Hibiki straightened up and turned to stare at Yamato. His partner looked up to stare back at him with a neutral expression, although Hibiki could clearly see the tense energy running throughout his body. Yamato was anxious about this – so he decided to mess with him a little. It was only fair.
“I dunno…” Hibiki said slowly, “I’m still pretty upset. How, exactly, will it be beneficial?”
Yamato’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but after a pause he took the bait, “I believe I’ve stated several benefits already. You would be automatically entered into contracts-”
“Hold it,” Hibiki cut him off, and leaned forwards with a bit of a sly grin, “I mean asidefrom business benefits. How will it be beneficial in other areas?”
“Other areas?” Yamato muttered, his eyebrows furrowing briefly. Hibiki could practically hear the cogs in his brain spin. “…do you mean emotionally?”
“That’s a good place to start,” Hibiki encouraged. “How will it benefit me emotionally?”
Yamato seemed to realise he was being played with now, but gracefully took it on the chin. He bowed his head a fraction with a wry smile, glancing up at Hibiki from beneath his pale eyelashes. There was a thoughtful pause.
“It would give you an official promise of commitment,” he finally said, obviously thinking that he had hit the right answer, “Although you shouldn’t be questioning my loyalty.”
“I’m not. Your generally unpleasant personality keeps that worry at bay,” Hibiki said off-handedly. “What else? Come on, you need to sell it, Yamato.”
Yamato had to stop and think at this point. “Emotional stability?”
“…nothing is stable about us,” Hibiki said with a snort.
“Well – yes, I concede that,” Yamato agreed, and he tilted his head with a small frown, “…I don’t see why else you would get married.”
“Really,” Hibiki grinned, finding his anger and annoyance fading a bit. This was cheering him up – making something genuinely hurtful into silly and funny… that was how Hibiki rolled. And there was no better way to punish Yamato than to make him uncomfortable, “It’s okay, just think about it.”
Yamato stared at him intently, like he was trying to figure out a very difficult puzzle. “Because…” he said haltingly, “It would make us true equals.”
“Bingo,” Hibiki said, unable to keep the exasperated fondness out of his tone, “If done properly, the biggest benefit would be that I’d know you’re my equal partner in crime ‘til death do us part. Officially.”
“…” Yamato looked away briefly with a frown. “I see.”
“And, it would show that you trust me,” Hibiki leaned back against the sofa. He felt drained – today was just too exhausting for him – and with it his earlier anger was ebbing away. Oh, he was still mad, pretty damn livid to be honest, but the impulsive heat behind it had gone. It wouldn’t be a normal day if Yamato didn’t piss him off in some way or other, after all.
“So,” Hibiki sat back up, and stretched out his hand towards Yamato, “Yeah, because it’s so beneficial, I’ll accept the sneaky marriage,” he wriggled his fingers, “Let’s seal it with a business handshake, then.”
Yamato’s shoulders moved in a sigh as he stared down at Hibiki’s hand. “I dislike it when you’re passive-aggressive,” he muttered, and pushed his hand away with a disgruntled expression. “I… understand the mistake I made,” he said tensely, “That I did not take into account the sentimental side of such a contract.”
“Something like that,” Hibiki dropped his hand, “Or you took it into account, and thought it unimportant without asking me first. But we’re beating a dead horse at this rate.”
It was done and over with, and Hibiki felt like he gave Yamato enough of hard time over it. His partner did seem genuinely chastised. He reached out again, but this time it was to curl his fingers over Yamato’s, scooting over to sit right next to him. Yamato just gave him a bad-tempered look.
“You’re forgiven – barely,” Hibiki said, smiling faintly. “But you’re in the doghouse for a while, mister.”
“Hmph,” Yamato turned his face away, although some of the tension had left his shoulders, “Maybe I will finally get some work done, then.”
“Maybe you should have married your paperwork instead,” Hibiki muttered wryly, “I feel like the other man compared to it.”
It was only then when it seemed to connect in Hibiki’s brain – even if it was done in a severely underhanded way, he was now married. Married to Yamato Hotsuin. He didn’t even know such a thing was possible – it probably wasn’t, but, again, Hotsuin influence – and, what would it even mean? Would they have to get rings or, did they just continue on like they normally did? Was it even a legal marriage, or some freaky spiritual “only for Hotsuins” marriage?
For that matter, how long had they been married for without Hibiki’s knowledge?
“Just out of curiosity… when did you marry us together?”
Yamato tilted his head in thought, “Hmm, I believe it was three years ago.”
…
T-Three years- wait, wasn’t that when-
“A-After the… Colossus thing?”
Yamato nodded, looking confused at Hibiki’s reaction. “Yes. I had almost died twice in a short period of time, so I felt that I should prepare for my death should you outlive me.”
Hibiki stared at him, struck speechless. Although it happened such a long time ago, he still remembered the Colossus event – it was what broke public knowledge of demons fully (even if some altercations were kept secret, like with today), and it was also what nearly killed them both. Yamato had been bedridden for a while, and Hibiki had been downgraded as well – it took them both a long while to recover. Yamato must have done it as soon as he was able to move about…
“I’m… a bit stunned,” Hibiki admitted, shaking his head in amazement, “Three years… that’s – I think I’m too shocked to be angry.”
“You say it shows a lack of trust, because I didn’t ask you first,” Yamato finally said after a small pause, “But know that it was more for your benefit than my own. The Hotsuin family do not look kindly on you, Hibiki, and if I were to die, they would take action to remove you from your position before my corpse even cooled. This is the best way to ensure you keep your rightful place as my successor should it come to pass.”
“…” Now Hibiki felt a bit like an asshole. “…why didn’t you just say that to me when you did it?” he asked quietly.
“As I said, I understand that civilians have sentimental value to marriage, and you would most likely decline because of that, even if it was the best option,” Yamato said. He paused, “So, yes, I didn’t trust you, then, to see the logical side of it. I will admit that much.”
“Three years…” Hibiki’s brain was still boggling. “How- wait. Is this an actual, official marriage, or is it a very bizarre spiritual one?”
Yamato deadpanned, his gaze flat. “It’s not an official one. In the eyes of the Japanese government, we are not married.”
“So it’s a weird supernatural one,” Hibiki concluded. He didn’t know if that was worse or better. Officially he wasn’t, so, that was good! In a way. On the other hand, being submitted into spiritual contracts you know nothing about was very dangerous. Was there fine print saying horrible things would happen to Hibiki if he cheated on Yamato? Not that he was planning to, but, well.
“There aren’t any conditions attached, if that is what you’re concerned about,” Yamato said, “But it is a contract that the Hotsuin have to abide by… as well as other supernatural elements. It carries more weight in those matters than a slip of government paper.”
“I see…” Hibiki said, even if he didn’t. He leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes with a weary sigh. Drained. Definitely, definitely, drained. But… after a pause, Hibiki started chuckling to himself, pressing a hand against his face as his shoulders shook with mirth. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. He got mad over nothing, really.
Oh, it was still annoying, but this was way better than being officially married without his knowledge. A spiritual contract that is otherwise harmless…
“This is so… dumb. Yamato, you got me all mad over nothing,” Hibiki sighed, lowering his hand and smiling tiredly at his partner. “You kept it all secret and it’s not even areal marriage. You should have said that from the beginning, man.”
Yamato looked like he was going to say something, only to shake his head instead. “Yes, I should’ve. Is the matter cleared up now?”
“Yeah. Fully,” Hibiki leaned over, resting his head against Yamato’s shoulder as he groaned. “You stress me out too muuuuuuuch~ teasing me with marriage and what not.”
“I’m a fiend,” Yamato agreed, and Hibiki felt what remaining tension was left in his partner’s shoulders fade. A rustle of paper, and the paperwork Yamato had been reading before was back on his lap. Hibiki stared at it with heavy-lidded eyes.
“…I was telling the truth though, that I’d like to get married to you, properly.”
Yamato paused and then made a small noise in the back of his throat. “I wouldn’t refuse, if you proposed the idea.”
“So I have to propose, huh… guess you are wife material,” Hibiki mused absently, and grunted when Yamato’s elbow rammed into his ribs. “O-Ow!”
“I’ve reconsidered,” Yamato said flatly, “I’ll outright reject it.”
“Mean…” Hibiki mock-sniffled, hiding a smile as he snuggled up against Yamato’s side, throbbing pain in his ribs aside. “And here I was, already planning our honeymoon and everything. An entire week in our apartment – very cost effective.”
“A week in the apartment?” Yamato’s tone was wondering, “How would that be an enjoyable honeymoon?”
Hibiki smirked, then, and, very slyly, pressed his hand against Yamato’s thigh, sliding it upwards suggestively as his body turned towards him somewhat. “Well,” he purred, fingers pressing and massaging the softness of Yamato’s inner thigh, “I can think of several activities that would make it a week of raunchy fun~”
Yamato was still, and although his expression was still neutral, Hibiki could practically hear his pulse spike to the roof. “…do you think of anything else but that?” he asked gruffly, his eyes avoiding Hibiki’s smirk.
“Nope. So,” Hibiki squeezed Yamato’s thigh, “our fake not-marriage should’ve been consummated three years ago, right?”
“I think we have ‘consummated’ it a thousand times over at this point.”
“Mm, not the point,” Hibiki murmured, his expression becoming mischievous. Yamato’s guard was down – so, he swiftly pounced when he had the chance! Papers went flying everywhere when he practically shoved Yamato down against the sofa, laughing when his partner cursed him in loud aggravation. It was rare for him to get one up on Yamato like this!
“Hibiki!” Yamato snarled, pressing his hands against Hibiki’s shoulders. He didn’t shove him off though – instead, he dragged him down, closer, until their bodies were flush and their mouths only inches apart. Hibiki felt Yamato’s growl rumble against his chest. “What I see in you-”
“You don’t know, I know,” Hibiki interrupted, and before Yamato could snap out any further grumbles or whines – pressed his mouth hard against his partner’s in a sudden, hungry kiss. It was returned with just as much hunger, fingers tightening into his shoulders, and-
Really, Hibiki wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with Yamato. It was as bumpy as riding a bucking Seiryuu in a thunderstorm, but that’s what made it exciting and fun – and the fact that Hibiki could tease out little moments of affection and genuine care from Yamato made him feel more than a little special. Yeah, this was a relationship to keep, in his opinion.
Which was why, while they ‘consummated’ a three year old fake-marriage, Hibiki made a vague, mental note to get something a little more physical to represent it later. He admitted it, he was one for ‘foolish civilian sentimentalities’. He didn’t care.
Come hell or high water, by the end of the week, Hibiki was going to put a ring on that grumpy bastard’s finger.