sleepless: the first night
i have been so completely out of everything, fandom and otherwise. also, does anybody here play dynasty/samurai/warriors orochi? ahaha. i have been sucked into that deep, dark place as well, because ps2 games don't require a functioning laptop. but this is a je journal after all, so maybe i should keep it out.
aaanyway. 8D i wanted to write this in order, like. the explaining/bridging hasshi zero part first so the omake actually makes sense, and then this, but no. after the shameless part, sleepless were like, "so. :D :) our turn next, right?" thus, the explaining will come second. but there is a reason hasshi's basically sleeping in totsuka's bed.
i'll also spare the world a whine about the poor state of my prose, suffice to say it's half the reason i dislike reading. blaaah, why so automatically copycat? inconsistencyyy. ;; oh well. this bit is actually about three parts rolled into one and won't get any more acceptable any time soon either. but, um. douzo. if you like. 8D;
sleepless: the first night (korekara yoroshiku; hereon forth, i'm in your hands.)
PG; 3450w
Note: Because it seems necessary when writing Tottsu, and I am lazy, Courier is English.
*
"Coming, Tottsu?" Fujigaya asks.
Totsuka hesitates. He has a mobile phone and Takizawa-sensei has his number, but on the other hand, he knows he's only going to be distracted if he joins Fearless and Ruthless for dinner.
What-if's are annoying like that.
"Not today, Taisuke," he says, apologetic.
Fujigaya shrugs. "You know who to call if you get bored. We might go for karaoke after."
Totsuka nods, takes his leave.
He won't call. He's not the type to change his mind once he's made a decision, and his decision now is to spend the evening in waiting.
It's only different from any other evening since he was born because this time something might actually happen: a promise given to him might actually be fulfilled. (The promise was given in jest, but even light words are still words and bear the weight of an oath's binding power.)
Unhurried, Totsuka takes the scenic route to the Seven Voices reception and asks Julie a few friendly questions. No, he's told, Takizawa-sensei's car has not returned to the car park yet. Yes, Takizawa-sensei left by himself a few hours ago and yes, Totsuka's phone can be messaged if Takizawa comes back in through a gate that isn't the main one.
Totsuka thanks her, and she wishes him luck as he leaves to take up vigil.
Luck, he thinks absently, will have nothing to do with it. Not this time. Luck has her time and place, but tonight's business is more Destiny's than any other and Totsuka feels like he's in her favour. Mostly.
The jaded, slightly faded faction of his mind tells him not to get his hopes up again. The Adult Totsuka part.
The rest of him is still a brat though, seventeen years old and full of butterflies at the mere thought that maybe, actually, seriously, he might get to meet his fighter tonight.
He's been waiting a while-certainly much longer than the handful of minutes it's taken for his boots to chill since he stepped out the reception's side doors. It's midwinter, solstice almost. Calmly clapping his mittens together, Totsuka thinks back through the years.
There was a time, once, when everyone he'd known had been shorter than Takizawa-sensei. Back then, the sacrifices he now considers his best friends had just been wordspell beginners, and their fighters yet unable to cloak their presence. Totsuka had just been found and brought to the Seven Voices to board… him and a strange old kid called Kawai Fumito.
Like so many young others Totsuka has seen since, the two of them had been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to get started.
Kawai's fighter had already been there, waiting for him as per usual: Tsukada Ryoichi, notably talented even then, with a brilliant smile and unshakable confidence in his skill.
Totsuka's fighter had been nowhere to be seen.
He remembers the jealousy he'd felt watching Kawai and Tsukada become Fearless, seeing Tsukada's ten million watt smile and hearing Kawai's delighted laughter, "Fearless? That's an awesome name. We're gonna be unbeatable, Tsuka-chan! I can feel it."
Totsuka had waited.
And waited.
And been faced with disappointment.
It was... complicated, a teacher had come to tell him eventually. Things hadn't quite worked out on the fighter's side with regards to parental consent and things like that; Totsuka was probably not going to be bonded a long time yet, so would he like to go home?
Feeling rejected and a little put out, Totsuka had considered. But the paperwork had already been done, his other school notified; his half of the bedroom he shared with his brother back home packed up.
And so Totsuka had chosen to stay. School was school wherever, after all, and boarding was pretty neat.
There had been other unjoined kids too, he'd found out, and he'd made a lot of friends even if they had all been fighters waiting for sacrifices and not the other way around. Even if it had been a special kind of hell to be the only one absolutely useless during battle training day after day.
But he'd been there to see Ruthless sharpen their milk teeth to fangs, and Fearless grow from strength to strength... History in the making. Totsuka smiles to himself. With Weightless, they're a tight-knit group even now, despite how there's an odd number of them.
But maybe, if it's mean to be, they'll be even from tonight.
A car passes through the school gates, startling Totsuka out of his thoughts-but it's not Takizawa's, and Totsuka's spirit deflates against his will.
It's still early, he reminds himself. It hasn't been as long as it feels.
Fingers numb, he tugs his child's ears from the pins his hair and presses them like muffs to the sides of his head. There's no one else around after all, and he's heard a first impression takes four-tenths of a second to make, or something like that. No sense in lying to his fighter before a single word is spoken…
When his fighter'll eventually show up. If he'll eventually show up.
Totsuka thinks he will.
…probably.
But in the meantime, every beat of his heart takes a little longer than it should. Time is slow and Totsuka retreats into the relative warmth of the side corridor to stomp out his boots and work the feeling back into his hands.
He's… tired of waiting.
*
The school, Kitayama realises when they're almost there, is halfway up a mountain. The road is dark and winter-slick, jagged rock to the left, and nothing but trees and a sheer drop down the right. It winds up and up and up and the journey feels almost surreal.
Takizawa talks as he drives. Topics jump from kabuki theatre to the Seven Voices academy; the air quality these days and Kitayama's sacrifice, a quirky boy by the name of Totsuka Shota.
Kitayama wonders if Takizawa isn't exaggerating any of Totsuka's traits, but he supposes he'll find out soon enough. Takizawa's pretty funny, for a teacher at any rate, and young too. Kitayama likes him. It's possible his mother did as well, since she consented to this visit. Or maybe it's just because Kitayama's eighteen now and old enough to decide for himself where he wants to get his education.
"Next time you'll be able to come here yourself, right?" Takizawa says as they pass through the school gates.
Kitayama grins. "In theory." Sitting in the passenger seat after dark is a far cry from driving solo.
Takizawa gives a knowing, teasing smile as he keys off the ignition and does up his jacket. "Not that I'd have guessed you could drive at all. You don't look old enough by at least two years."
Kitayama makes a face, freeing himself from his seatbelt. He's heard worse guesses than just sixteen, but that still doesn't make it sit any better with him. "Thanks. I guess."
"You'll fit right in, don't worry," Takizawa chuckles. He lets himself out of the car before Kitayama can ask what that's supposed to mean. "Come, your sacrifice has been waiting."
Obediently, Kitayama follows Takizawa into the winter cold.
He's lead past what's probably the reception proper, around the side to an unassuming door. Takizawa pops his head in and says with a smile, "Here we are."
Kitayama pokes his head around Takizawa's shoulder. The boy sitting in the corridor-on the floor, childishly curled up with his chin resting on his knees-stares up at them with a lopsided smile. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold; eyes as dark as his hair. Like Kitayama, he seems to have lost his ears long ago, though his voice when he speaks is still kind of high. Soft at the moment, though Kitayama doesn't have the slightest trouble hearing every word: "Sorry, Takizawa-sensei. I might have stayed outside if I'd actually believed you were on your way."
Takizawa feigns offence. "For shame, Totsuka-kun. I promised to bring your fighter here and here he is, though maybe I shouldn't have bothered seeing as your faith in me is so lacking."
"I believed you, Sensei," Totsuka smiles, sincere enough. He climbs to his feet. "This is him, then?"
Takizawa smiles back and pats Totsuka on the shoulder as he walks past. "I'll leave you to it."
"Kitayama Hiromitsu," Kitayama says, stepping forward to shake the hand that Totsuka's offering. The snap of energy through their palms thaws Kitayama right down to his bootsoles and he blinks in surprise at the sudden warmth of it, and Totsuka's sudden grin. It's with an odd fondness that Kitayama smiles back and notes that Totsuka gets dimples by his nose of all places.
"Welcome, Hiromitsu," Totsuka tells him. "Actually, I've known your name for years now, but I wanted to receive it from you in person. It's a beautiful name. I'll treasure it well."
"Thank you," Kitayama says, sincerely enough. A quirk dints his smile. Takizawa did warn him after all: Totsuka is strange. But Kitayama's always been good at fitting the role, playing along. "Could I have your name too, then?"
"I'll give it to you," Totsuka agrees, taking Kitayama's hand to draw four strong characters in his palm. The first character is the same as the one that starts 'outdoors', and the last is ta from 'sun'.
"Totsuka Shota," Kitayama repeats aloud and, while Takizawa had told him the name already, saying it now feels different. Like for the first time it means something. Belongs to someone.
"It's not as pretty as the one you've got," Totsuka says, superficially apologetic, "but functional enough." He folds Kitayama's fingers closed and looks back up so they're eye to eye. Smiles again. "Hereon forth, I'm in your hands."
"Sure," Kitayama smiles easily back, wondering if Totsuka always phrases things so strangely. For no particular reason, he hopes he does. "Then let's get along."
*
"You really didn't know about this before?" Totsuka asks, surprised but not… entirely disappointed. He waves a hand at the Seven Voices grounds as he speaks, indicating their surroundings and his and Kitayama's place in them.
Kitayama shakes his head, regretful but unapologetic. "She never told me the details," he says. They're talking about his mother.
"You didn't ask?"
"Not really." Kitayama's eyes roam the school's high fences with no apparent discomfort. Its security system is advanced even for an elite school, designed in equal parts to keep students in and trespassers out. It can be unnerving for visitors, Totsuka knows, but Kitayama's probably never been as much of a caged bird as Totsuka sometimes feels.
"She did mention the scholarship," Kitayama goes on, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I asked why I couldn't go since it would help with money. The tuition at my high school was pretty steep, but mom enrolled me anyway." He slants Totsuka a sideways glance and a smile that's half proud in the moonlight, half not quite. "It's just been her and me since forever, you know?"
"Must've been tough," Totsuka says. He can imagine it maybe, but with two other siblings and both parents around every time he goes home, the Totsuka's little apartment exists in a state of perpetual chaos.
"She told me I could choose my own school when I was old enough to."
"And you listened to her?"
"You aren't upset about it?" Kitayama says, more a statement.
True enough, it doesn't take much for Totsuka to keep his tone light. "I'm not." He isn't bitter; how could he be? Not like this. He smiles wryly at how good a fighter Kitayama would have been back then, following the orders of authority without dispute. "She probably just didn't want you gone."
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting regardless." Totsuka can feel more than see Kitayama's glance shadowed by the trees they pass in the moonlight.
"You shouldn't be," Totsuka says. More than says.
"I know," Kitayama agrees. "But anyway, I'm old enough now. To choose my own school."
"What's your plan, then?" Totsuka tries to keep his voice casual. "Seven Voices training?"
He's not upset, but a strange kind of nervousness still strikes his core all the same. Good kids are told the way things are or should be and don't argue. But Kitayama's older than that-older than Totsuka even-and both of them already know different lives, different paths. Both of them already know it doesn't have to be the way the adults say anymore, just because. Kitayama doesn't have to stick around, and-
"Actually, I was thinking of going to uni."
Totsuka stops dead in his tracks. "What?"
Kitayama stops as well, turning to stare at Totsuka right back. "My mother worked hard to put me through a good school. Even if I did this Seven Voices gig, I couldn't let her down."
"…of course not," Totsuka says. Because really, what audacity it would be to think any different.
"Tottsu?" Kitayama tilts his head, grinning.
"…hm?" Totsuka stares just past Kitayama's shoulder. He's still not upset per se, but…
"Takizawa says they'll make an exception for me, though. I'll be boarding here if nothing else."
Totsuka closes his eyes. One of the first things a pair learns, he reminds himself, is that an effective hit is a hit where it hurts. Target your opponents' greatest weaknesses, their greatest fears. When he opens his eyes again, Kitayama's smile is still right there, and Totsuka can't help a wry grin back at him.
He pointedly doesn't call Kitayama an asshole.
"You aren't angry yet?" Kitayama prods.
"Not quite that easily," Totsuka smiles, getting his feet moving again. Kitayama trots two paces to catch up and their shoulders brush in the dark. "You'll make a great fighter, Hiromitsu. I'm sure of it."
*
By midnight they've made several rounds of the Seven Voices perimeter and Kitayama can't feel his fingertips or toes anymore. Totsuka wants to head back inside, but Kitayama doesn't feel like he should follow yet. He'll graduate in the spring; after that, he can enrol for real. Move here permanently. Become Totsuka's fighter.
Not quite yet.
Totsuka doesn't seem to mind too much. Kitayama's been testing the waters all night, seeing how much Totsuka can take, but Totsuka's a pretty mellow guy beneath all the weird and he can apparently take quite a lot.
Back outside the side door around the Seven Voices reception they stop walking.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Kitayama asks. They've talked about so much that the left-field question doesn't even feel out of place.
Point in case, Totsuka counters Kitayama's question with an easy smile. "I even believe in loving people yet unmet."
His weird's not even really that weird, Kitayama considers, once you're used to it. "You're talking about destiny," he interprets.
"Maybe," Totsuka says.
"You're talking about us."
"Yes."
Kitayama's silent for a long while at that. He watches Totsuka's unabashed face under the eaves, tilted up to the stars, and absently notes the gentle way he looks like he's smiling even when he's not.
The 'yes' had only been a neutral statement about them. About destiny. Everything. Kitayama can't feel the faintest bit of pressure about it, can't read the slightest hint of expectation anywhere in Totsuka's expression.
The revelation isn't entirely unexpected, but it's still kind of a relief. A confirmation of sorts, that Kitayama has no imagined shoes to fill, no cookie-cutter image to live up to. Totsuka isn't expecting anything specific from him and doesn't want anything particular in return, either.
A concept at once liberating and challenging.
Totsuka isn't some lovesick girl who'll hang onto Kitayama's every word and action; but the thought of earning affection is an attractive one and Kitayama smiles to himself. "Tottsu…"
"Hm?" Taking his gaze from the stars, Totsuka meets Kitayama's eyes again. Smiling but not. "Hiromitsu?"
"Weren't you waiting?"
Totsuka shrugs, non-committal in that indirect, inoffensive way he has of answering almost everything. "Destiny always has her way."
"She does," Kitayama says, and finds himself almost wishing his sacrifice wouldn't be so guarded-almost. It would be tough if it weren't a clear invitation to try get under his skin.
Totsuka likes boys, Kitayama knows, so he won't mind in that sense. Kitayama likes girls mostly, but anyone who piques his interest is their own person entirely. He looks at Totsuka sidelong, consideringly, and Totsuka looks back with his dark-lined eyes, deep and black. Smiling but not.
Totsuka, Kitayama thinks, is definitely an exception.
His eyes trace Totsuka's face, his jaw, his lips, intentions an open book and giving no surprises this time. When he leans in, Totsuka doesn't back away, but neither does he respond, just waiting-which Kitayama supposes is all you can do if you believe in destiny.
He drops a gentle kiss by Totsuka's mouth, barely a brush of skin, and turns his head to press another to Totsuka's lips. Their noses touch, cold, breath mingling. He feels a shiver under his fingers as they brush Totsuka's jaw.
Pulling back, Kitayama studies Totsuka's expression. It's a small smile-lopsided maybe, but a smile nonetheless. Apologetic, Kitayama blows on his fingertips and tries to make them a little less icy.
"Is that the first time you've kissed a guy?" Totsuka asks into the silence.
Kitayama blinks. "The soccer club used to mess around a bit," he admits after a beat. No sense in lying. "Why?"
Totsuka hums thoughtfully, and brushes a thumb across his lip in a way that makes Kitayama's heart skip. "You're making me feel rather delicate, is all. Surely you didn't kiss them like that."
Kitayama raises a brow, surprised again. "But why would you want to be one of them? We didn't… care. Not properly. We just, we were there. It happened."
"Why do you care so much about this?" Totsuka asks back, ostentatiously casual. "We're here. It'll happen. We're joined forever now anyway, so…"
"So all the more reason to get it right," Kitayama says, and looks evenly back when Totsuka stares at him.
At length, Totsuka's eyes soften and a real smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. "Don't you always know the right thing to say, Hiromitsu." He looks away. Back up at the stars. "I really do think I might love you already."
Kitayama chuckles and shoves his hands back into his pockets. "Yeah, well. Shit happens."
"Mm~" Totsuka laughs. "Isn't that weird."
*
"Where were you last night?" Kawai demands later. "We couldn't find you anywhere!"
Totsuka smiles at the question. Only 'where'? That's alright, he supposes. "Nowhere special."
Kawai narrows his eyes. "Liar. I know that smile."
"What smile?" Totsuka tilts his head. "This one? Or this one?"
"Tottsu…" Kawai makes a noise of frustration when it's soon clear the matter's going nowhere. "Fine. What're you doing for Christmas."
Totsuka smiles at that, too. They ask him every year, one of either Ruthless or Fearless or Weightless-whoever seems to have drawn the shortest straw. They have each other after all, and while Totsuka has family back home, Christmas is a time for couples. "Don't worry about me."
Kawai looks dubious, folds his arms and plops down cross-legged on the end of Totsuka's bed. "You know, if you didn't feel the need to say don't worry in the first place, I might not actually worry! Not that I'm worrying, 'cause I'm not."
"Please, Fumito," Totsuka laughs. "My date's cuter than you by a factor of fifteen."
"That's not what I-" Kawai stops. Blinks. Leers. "Really? You have a date? Who is it? Someone here? An outsider?"
"Neither option~♪"
"Tottsu…"
"It's true." Totsuka gives no quarter, smiling that smile that drives Kawai up the wall. "Don't worry, Fumito. You'll get it soon enough."
*
*
"Mm, that was a nice story," Hashimoto murmurs. "Tell me another?"
"Aren't you sleeping yet?" Totsuka asks, barely surprised. "It's way past your bedtime."
"Tottsu's voice isn't aircon like Gocchi's though," Hashimoto says, shifting a little where he's tucked up against Totsuka's side and curled up improbably small for someone his size. "You're Sleepless now… right? You and Kitayama… kun."
"We are," Totsuka agrees.
"Can I see?" Hashimoto asks. "Your name, I mean? It's on your shoulder… right?" He reaches up, traces the exact spot.
"It is," Totsuka says, but twines his fingers with Hashimoto's in gentle denial. "Maybe when the sun comes back."
"Sooner if I sleep?" Hashimoto asks, voice already drowsy.
"Sooner if you sleep," Totsuka says, and strokes his fingers through Hashimoto's hair until the Zero's breathing evens out. He whispers, "I'll see you in the morning."
Nothing is of consequence during the daylight hours, everything different under the eyes of the world. But the night belongs to Sleepless alone.
aaanyway. 8D i wanted to write this in order, like. the explaining/bridging hasshi zero part first so the omake actually makes sense, and then this, but no. after the shameless part, sleepless were like, "so. :D :) our turn next, right?" thus, the explaining will come second. but there is a reason hasshi's basically sleeping in totsuka's bed.
i'll also spare the world a whine about the poor state of my prose, suffice to say it's half the reason i dislike reading. blaaah, why so automatically copycat? inconsistencyyy. ;; oh well. this bit is actually about three parts rolled into one and won't get any more acceptable any time soon either. but, um. douzo. if you like. 8D;
sleepless: the first night (korekara yoroshiku; hereon forth, i'm in your hands.)
PG; 3450w
Note: Because it seems necessary when writing Tottsu, and I am lazy, Courier is English.
*
"Coming, Tottsu?" Fujigaya asks.
Totsuka hesitates. He has a mobile phone and Takizawa-sensei has his number, but on the other hand, he knows he's only going to be distracted if he joins Fearless and Ruthless for dinner.
What-if's are annoying like that.
"Not today, Taisuke," he says, apologetic.
Fujigaya shrugs. "You know who to call if you get bored. We might go for karaoke after."
Totsuka nods, takes his leave.
He won't call. He's not the type to change his mind once he's made a decision, and his decision now is to spend the evening in waiting.
It's only different from any other evening since he was born because this time something might actually happen: a promise given to him might actually be fulfilled. (The promise was given in jest, but even light words are still words and bear the weight of an oath's binding power.)
Unhurried, Totsuka takes the scenic route to the Seven Voices reception and asks Julie a few friendly questions. No, he's told, Takizawa-sensei's car has not returned to the car park yet. Yes, Takizawa-sensei left by himself a few hours ago and yes, Totsuka's phone can be messaged if Takizawa comes back in through a gate that isn't the main one.
Totsuka thanks her, and she wishes him luck as he leaves to take up vigil.
Luck, he thinks absently, will have nothing to do with it. Not this time. Luck has her time and place, but tonight's business is more Destiny's than any other and Totsuka feels like he's in her favour. Mostly.
The jaded, slightly faded faction of his mind tells him not to get his hopes up again. The Adult Totsuka part.
The rest of him is still a brat though, seventeen years old and full of butterflies at the mere thought that maybe, actually, seriously, he might get to meet his fighter tonight.
He's been waiting a while-certainly much longer than the handful of minutes it's taken for his boots to chill since he stepped out the reception's side doors. It's midwinter, solstice almost. Calmly clapping his mittens together, Totsuka thinks back through the years.
There was a time, once, when everyone he'd known had been shorter than Takizawa-sensei. Back then, the sacrifices he now considers his best friends had just been wordspell beginners, and their fighters yet unable to cloak their presence. Totsuka had just been found and brought to the Seven Voices to board… him and a strange old kid called Kawai Fumito.
Like so many young others Totsuka has seen since, the two of them had been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to get started.
Kawai's fighter had already been there, waiting for him as per usual: Tsukada Ryoichi, notably talented even then, with a brilliant smile and unshakable confidence in his skill.
Totsuka's fighter had been nowhere to be seen.
He remembers the jealousy he'd felt watching Kawai and Tsukada become Fearless, seeing Tsukada's ten million watt smile and hearing Kawai's delighted laughter, "Fearless? That's an awesome name. We're gonna be unbeatable, Tsuka-chan! I can feel it."
Totsuka had waited.
And waited.
And been faced with disappointment.
It was... complicated, a teacher had come to tell him eventually. Things hadn't quite worked out on the fighter's side with regards to parental consent and things like that; Totsuka was probably not going to be bonded a long time yet, so would he like to go home?
Feeling rejected and a little put out, Totsuka had considered. But the paperwork had already been done, his other school notified; his half of the bedroom he shared with his brother back home packed up.
And so Totsuka had chosen to stay. School was school wherever, after all, and boarding was pretty neat.
There had been other unjoined kids too, he'd found out, and he'd made a lot of friends even if they had all been fighters waiting for sacrifices and not the other way around. Even if it had been a special kind of hell to be the only one absolutely useless during battle training day after day.
But he'd been there to see Ruthless sharpen their milk teeth to fangs, and Fearless grow from strength to strength... History in the making. Totsuka smiles to himself. With Weightless, they're a tight-knit group even now, despite how there's an odd number of them.
But maybe, if it's mean to be, they'll be even from tonight.
A car passes through the school gates, startling Totsuka out of his thoughts-but it's not Takizawa's, and Totsuka's spirit deflates against his will.
It's still early, he reminds himself. It hasn't been as long as it feels.
Fingers numb, he tugs his child's ears from the pins his hair and presses them like muffs to the sides of his head. There's no one else around after all, and he's heard a first impression takes four-tenths of a second to make, or something like that. No sense in lying to his fighter before a single word is spoken…
When his fighter'll eventually show up. If he'll eventually show up.
Totsuka thinks he will.
…probably.
But in the meantime, every beat of his heart takes a little longer than it should. Time is slow and Totsuka retreats into the relative warmth of the side corridor to stomp out his boots and work the feeling back into his hands.
He's… tired of waiting.
*
The school, Kitayama realises when they're almost there, is halfway up a mountain. The road is dark and winter-slick, jagged rock to the left, and nothing but trees and a sheer drop down the right. It winds up and up and up and the journey feels almost surreal.
Takizawa talks as he drives. Topics jump from kabuki theatre to the Seven Voices academy; the air quality these days and Kitayama's sacrifice, a quirky boy by the name of Totsuka Shota.
Kitayama wonders if Takizawa isn't exaggerating any of Totsuka's traits, but he supposes he'll find out soon enough. Takizawa's pretty funny, for a teacher at any rate, and young too. Kitayama likes him. It's possible his mother did as well, since she consented to this visit. Or maybe it's just because Kitayama's eighteen now and old enough to decide for himself where he wants to get his education.
"Next time you'll be able to come here yourself, right?" Takizawa says as they pass through the school gates.
Kitayama grins. "In theory." Sitting in the passenger seat after dark is a far cry from driving solo.
Takizawa gives a knowing, teasing smile as he keys off the ignition and does up his jacket. "Not that I'd have guessed you could drive at all. You don't look old enough by at least two years."
Kitayama makes a face, freeing himself from his seatbelt. He's heard worse guesses than just sixteen, but that still doesn't make it sit any better with him. "Thanks. I guess."
"You'll fit right in, don't worry," Takizawa chuckles. He lets himself out of the car before Kitayama can ask what that's supposed to mean. "Come, your sacrifice has been waiting."
Obediently, Kitayama follows Takizawa into the winter cold.
He's lead past what's probably the reception proper, around the side to an unassuming door. Takizawa pops his head in and says with a smile, "Here we are."
Kitayama pokes his head around Takizawa's shoulder. The boy sitting in the corridor-on the floor, childishly curled up with his chin resting on his knees-stares up at them with a lopsided smile. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold; eyes as dark as his hair. Like Kitayama, he seems to have lost his ears long ago, though his voice when he speaks is still kind of high. Soft at the moment, though Kitayama doesn't have the slightest trouble hearing every word: "Sorry, Takizawa-sensei. I might have stayed outside if I'd actually believed you were on your way."
Takizawa feigns offence. "For shame, Totsuka-kun. I promised to bring your fighter here and here he is, though maybe I shouldn't have bothered seeing as your faith in me is so lacking."
"I believed you, Sensei," Totsuka smiles, sincere enough. He climbs to his feet. "This is him, then?"
Takizawa smiles back and pats Totsuka on the shoulder as he walks past. "I'll leave you to it."
"Kitayama Hiromitsu," Kitayama says, stepping forward to shake the hand that Totsuka's offering. The snap of energy through their palms thaws Kitayama right down to his bootsoles and he blinks in surprise at the sudden warmth of it, and Totsuka's sudden grin. It's with an odd fondness that Kitayama smiles back and notes that Totsuka gets dimples by his nose of all places.
"Welcome, Hiromitsu," Totsuka tells him. "Actually, I've known your name for years now, but I wanted to receive it from you in person. It's a beautiful name. I'll treasure it well."
"Thank you," Kitayama says, sincerely enough. A quirk dints his smile. Takizawa did warn him after all: Totsuka is strange. But Kitayama's always been good at fitting the role, playing along. "Could I have your name too, then?"
"I'll give it to you," Totsuka agrees, taking Kitayama's hand to draw four strong characters in his palm. The first character is the same as the one that starts 'outdoors', and the last is ta from 'sun'.
"Totsuka Shota," Kitayama repeats aloud and, while Takizawa had told him the name already, saying it now feels different. Like for the first time it means something. Belongs to someone.
"It's not as pretty as the one you've got," Totsuka says, superficially apologetic, "but functional enough." He folds Kitayama's fingers closed and looks back up so they're eye to eye. Smiles again. "Hereon forth, I'm in your hands."
"Sure," Kitayama smiles easily back, wondering if Totsuka always phrases things so strangely. For no particular reason, he hopes he does. "Then let's get along."
*
"You really didn't know about this before?" Totsuka asks, surprised but not… entirely disappointed. He waves a hand at the Seven Voices grounds as he speaks, indicating their surroundings and his and Kitayama's place in them.
Kitayama shakes his head, regretful but unapologetic. "She never told me the details," he says. They're talking about his mother.
"You didn't ask?"
"Not really." Kitayama's eyes roam the school's high fences with no apparent discomfort. Its security system is advanced even for an elite school, designed in equal parts to keep students in and trespassers out. It can be unnerving for visitors, Totsuka knows, but Kitayama's probably never been as much of a caged bird as Totsuka sometimes feels.
"She did mention the scholarship," Kitayama goes on, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I asked why I couldn't go since it would help with money. The tuition at my high school was pretty steep, but mom enrolled me anyway." He slants Totsuka a sideways glance and a smile that's half proud in the moonlight, half not quite. "It's just been her and me since forever, you know?"
"Must've been tough," Totsuka says. He can imagine it maybe, but with two other siblings and both parents around every time he goes home, the Totsuka's little apartment exists in a state of perpetual chaos.
"She told me I could choose my own school when I was old enough to."
"And you listened to her?"
"You aren't upset about it?" Kitayama says, more a statement.
True enough, it doesn't take much for Totsuka to keep his tone light. "I'm not." He isn't bitter; how could he be? Not like this. He smiles wryly at how good a fighter Kitayama would have been back then, following the orders of authority without dispute. "She probably just didn't want you gone."
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting regardless." Totsuka can feel more than see Kitayama's glance shadowed by the trees they pass in the moonlight.
"You shouldn't be," Totsuka says. More than says.
"I know," Kitayama agrees. "But anyway, I'm old enough now. To choose my own school."
"What's your plan, then?" Totsuka tries to keep his voice casual. "Seven Voices training?"
He's not upset, but a strange kind of nervousness still strikes his core all the same. Good kids are told the way things are or should be and don't argue. But Kitayama's older than that-older than Totsuka even-and both of them already know different lives, different paths. Both of them already know it doesn't have to be the way the adults say anymore, just because. Kitayama doesn't have to stick around, and-
"Actually, I was thinking of going to uni."
Totsuka stops dead in his tracks. "What?"
Kitayama stops as well, turning to stare at Totsuka right back. "My mother worked hard to put me through a good school. Even if I did this Seven Voices gig, I couldn't let her down."
"…of course not," Totsuka says. Because really, what audacity it would be to think any different.
"Tottsu?" Kitayama tilts his head, grinning.
"…hm?" Totsuka stares just past Kitayama's shoulder. He's still not upset per se, but…
"Takizawa says they'll make an exception for me, though. I'll be boarding here if nothing else."
Totsuka closes his eyes. One of the first things a pair learns, he reminds himself, is that an effective hit is a hit where it hurts. Target your opponents' greatest weaknesses, their greatest fears. When he opens his eyes again, Kitayama's smile is still right there, and Totsuka can't help a wry grin back at him.
He pointedly doesn't call Kitayama an asshole.
"You aren't angry yet?" Kitayama prods.
"Not quite that easily," Totsuka smiles, getting his feet moving again. Kitayama trots two paces to catch up and their shoulders brush in the dark. "You'll make a great fighter, Hiromitsu. I'm sure of it."
*
By midnight they've made several rounds of the Seven Voices perimeter and Kitayama can't feel his fingertips or toes anymore. Totsuka wants to head back inside, but Kitayama doesn't feel like he should follow yet. He'll graduate in the spring; after that, he can enrol for real. Move here permanently. Become Totsuka's fighter.
Not quite yet.
Totsuka doesn't seem to mind too much. Kitayama's been testing the waters all night, seeing how much Totsuka can take, but Totsuka's a pretty mellow guy beneath all the weird and he can apparently take quite a lot.
Back outside the side door around the Seven Voices reception they stop walking.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Kitayama asks. They've talked about so much that the left-field question doesn't even feel out of place.
Point in case, Totsuka counters Kitayama's question with an easy smile. "I even believe in loving people yet unmet."
His weird's not even really that weird, Kitayama considers, once you're used to it. "You're talking about destiny," he interprets.
"Maybe," Totsuka says.
"You're talking about us."
"Yes."
Kitayama's silent for a long while at that. He watches Totsuka's unabashed face under the eaves, tilted up to the stars, and absently notes the gentle way he looks like he's smiling even when he's not.
The 'yes' had only been a neutral statement about them. About destiny. Everything. Kitayama can't feel the faintest bit of pressure about it, can't read the slightest hint of expectation anywhere in Totsuka's expression.
The revelation isn't entirely unexpected, but it's still kind of a relief. A confirmation of sorts, that Kitayama has no imagined shoes to fill, no cookie-cutter image to live up to. Totsuka isn't expecting anything specific from him and doesn't want anything particular in return, either.
A concept at once liberating and challenging.
Totsuka isn't some lovesick girl who'll hang onto Kitayama's every word and action; but the thought of earning affection is an attractive one and Kitayama smiles to himself. "Tottsu…"
"Hm?" Taking his gaze from the stars, Totsuka meets Kitayama's eyes again. Smiling but not. "Hiromitsu?"
"Weren't you waiting?"
Totsuka shrugs, non-committal in that indirect, inoffensive way he has of answering almost everything. "Destiny always has her way."
"She does," Kitayama says, and finds himself almost wishing his sacrifice wouldn't be so guarded-almost. It would be tough if it weren't a clear invitation to try get under his skin.
Totsuka likes boys, Kitayama knows, so he won't mind in that sense. Kitayama likes girls mostly, but anyone who piques his interest is their own person entirely. He looks at Totsuka sidelong, consideringly, and Totsuka looks back with his dark-lined eyes, deep and black. Smiling but not.
Totsuka, Kitayama thinks, is definitely an exception.
His eyes trace Totsuka's face, his jaw, his lips, intentions an open book and giving no surprises this time. When he leans in, Totsuka doesn't back away, but neither does he respond, just waiting-which Kitayama supposes is all you can do if you believe in destiny.
He drops a gentle kiss by Totsuka's mouth, barely a brush of skin, and turns his head to press another to Totsuka's lips. Their noses touch, cold, breath mingling. He feels a shiver under his fingers as they brush Totsuka's jaw.
Pulling back, Kitayama studies Totsuka's expression. It's a small smile-lopsided maybe, but a smile nonetheless. Apologetic, Kitayama blows on his fingertips and tries to make them a little less icy.
"Is that the first time you've kissed a guy?" Totsuka asks into the silence.
Kitayama blinks. "The soccer club used to mess around a bit," he admits after a beat. No sense in lying. "Why?"
Totsuka hums thoughtfully, and brushes a thumb across his lip in a way that makes Kitayama's heart skip. "You're making me feel rather delicate, is all. Surely you didn't kiss them like that."
Kitayama raises a brow, surprised again. "But why would you want to be one of them? We didn't… care. Not properly. We just, we were there. It happened."
"Why do you care so much about this?" Totsuka asks back, ostentatiously casual. "We're here. It'll happen. We're joined forever now anyway, so…"
"So all the more reason to get it right," Kitayama says, and looks evenly back when Totsuka stares at him.
At length, Totsuka's eyes soften and a real smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. "Don't you always know the right thing to say, Hiromitsu." He looks away. Back up at the stars. "I really do think I might love you already."
Kitayama chuckles and shoves his hands back into his pockets. "Yeah, well. Shit happens."
"Mm~" Totsuka laughs. "Isn't that weird."
*
"Where were you last night?" Kawai demands later. "We couldn't find you anywhere!"
Totsuka smiles at the question. Only 'where'? That's alright, he supposes. "Nowhere special."
Kawai narrows his eyes. "Liar. I know that smile."
"What smile?" Totsuka tilts his head. "This one? Or this one?"
"Tottsu…" Kawai makes a noise of frustration when it's soon clear the matter's going nowhere. "Fine. What're you doing for Christmas."
Totsuka smiles at that, too. They ask him every year, one of either Ruthless or Fearless or Weightless-whoever seems to have drawn the shortest straw. They have each other after all, and while Totsuka has family back home, Christmas is a time for couples. "Don't worry about me."
Kawai looks dubious, folds his arms and plops down cross-legged on the end of Totsuka's bed. "You know, if you didn't feel the need to say don't worry in the first place, I might not actually worry! Not that I'm worrying, 'cause I'm not."
"Please, Fumito," Totsuka laughs. "My date's cuter than you by a factor of fifteen."
"That's not what I-" Kawai stops. Blinks. Leers. "Really? You have a date? Who is it? Someone here? An outsider?"
"Neither option~♪"
"Tottsu…"
"It's true." Totsuka gives no quarter, smiling that smile that drives Kawai up the wall. "Don't worry, Fumito. You'll get it soon enough."
*
*
"Mm, that was a nice story," Hashimoto murmurs. "Tell me another?"
"Aren't you sleeping yet?" Totsuka asks, barely surprised. "It's way past your bedtime."
"Tottsu's voice isn't aircon like Gocchi's though," Hashimoto says, shifting a little where he's tucked up against Totsuka's side and curled up improbably small for someone his size. "You're Sleepless now… right? You and Kitayama… kun."
"We are," Totsuka agrees.
"Can I see?" Hashimoto asks. "Your name, I mean? It's on your shoulder… right?" He reaches up, traces the exact spot.
"It is," Totsuka says, but twines his fingers with Hashimoto's in gentle denial. "Maybe when the sun comes back."
"Sooner if I sleep?" Hashimoto asks, voice already drowsy.
"Sooner if you sleep," Totsuka says, and strokes his fingers through Hashimoto's hair until the Zero's breathing evens out. He whispers, "I'll see you in the morning."
Nothing is of consequence during the daylight hours, everything different under the eyes of the world. But the night belongs to Sleepless alone.