i'm here to exorcise you!

Mitsuba liked having the upper hand on Kou. He really, genuinely did. It was fun, being able to fluster him like that, like some kinda weird power trip that comes with inherently having some sort of memory-foam-personality despite having no memories that recalled that, yeah, being bullied sucks, not having friends sucks, being lonely and unliked sucks. So. So! Being able to fluster someone that meant a lot to Mitsuba was interesting. It was exciting! Like some sort of silent proof of just how much he did mean to Kou, as if the boy was at all capable of letting Mitsuba just forget that (spoiler: he wasn’t).

“Hah!”

Kou had nearly fallen over. He really had been lost in thought. Mitsuba gave a proud hum that dissipated into some sort of bizarre cackle, and Kou admitting that, yup, Mitsuba was cute, super cute, only added to his state of self-inflated pride.

“I knew it! I–”

Mitsuba was much less fond of having the tables turned.

Kou knew when to be infuriatingly earnest and sincere at the worst of times. Best of times? Both. Both of times. All Mitsuba could do, the words shocked right out of him, was stare rather uselessly. So, maybe he hadn’t been expecting some sort of genuine comment about how Kou thought his happiness was cute. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Oh.

He. Wasn’t used to people reacting to him being like this with… with that.

“Oh,” Mitsuba mumbled.

(Mitsuba really – Mitsuba really, really was in love with him, huh?)

Oh.

Ignoring the racing of his heart in his chest, so loud that it was even pounding in his ears, Mitsuba tried to recover, waving his sleeve dismissively and forcing some semblance of a smirk onto his face.

“H… heh! Well, by – opening their eggs –!” Okay. Great. “What do you waaant me to say!? I don’t know how they’re finding frogs, only that they apparently are! Geez! Can you use your brain for once, Minamoto-kun!?” Probably not.

Mitsuba whirled around on his heel a little too quickly, raising his sleeve to cover his mouth (and as much of his very-red cheeks as he could without looking stupid).

R. Right. Eggs. Looking for eggs.

“You could at least help look for some!”

       It probably should’ve been a crime for Mitsuba to laugh like that. It probably should’ve been a crime for Mitsuba to make any noise like that and for Kou to not even mind it, to actually like hearing it—even when, well, a situation like this was happening. ( After all, sometimes you just really, really liked hearing your boyfriend’s voice, and sometimes you were just Kou Minamoto and dating this kid named Sousuke Mitsuba. That was just how some situations were. ) So, as dazed as Kou still was, and even as his focus was near-entirely devoted to throwing himself out of that utter bewilderment, you could have caught him staring and laughing with him, covering his mouth to hide something that was only more obvious when Mitsuba, for once, shut up.

       So, uh, was it odd to see, for once, the two of them staring at one another in dead silence? Well—yeah, it was. Because Kou was loud and Mitsuba was, well, loud when he wanted to be, and Kou was used to hearing at least one of their voices over the ambience.

       But, well, hey! At least Kou didn’t have to worry about that for much longer, because Mitsuba was back to talking and being loud, like, y’know, when he wanted to be, and Kou finally threw himself out of his terrible daze to listen to him.

       “H—huh?!” Geez, Mitsuba, you can’t just ask him to use his brain for once! You know he’s going to lie about using it. “I am! Really!” ( See? Just like that! ) “I just—you know—” no, neither of them knew, we just went over this—“You don’t just… get frogs when you open a plastic egg! Or an egg that large at all!”

       ( Using your brain? Never heard of it. You’ve got the braincells here, Mitsuba. )

As entertaining as it was to watch the quarrels and conversations that went on among the Agency employees, sometimes it got a bit too loud in there for her. Perhaps it’s to be expected with such… unique personalities, but no one really seemed to get a hint of when to stop until someone intimidating or mature got them to stop. Sometimes Flora was lucky enough in the cases that she got them to stop relatively early, but that was only if she was paying attention enough to make good counterpoints.

Something that doesn’t always happen when she’s trying to speak with the workers that she regularly does.

Today she had decided to take refuge in the kitchen. It was a lot more quiet in there, and maybe she could make something for everyone when it got less lively. That normally happened nearer the end of the day though, and the ideas she was thinking of would get way too cold if she decided to make them now… so in all honesty? She was just listening out for the sweet sound of silence. Which, obviously, wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

What her ears did pick up, however, was the door behind her opening. Had someone finally noticed she was gone? Turning around assured her that it wasn’t any of the more rowdy workers… in fact, she recalled seeing this one running around occasionally, but he always seemed preoccupied with something. So she just chose not to bother him. It was quite amusing to see him struggle to remember her name, it wasn’t something that was mentioned in conversation often, so she didn’t mind it at all.

Hand of her own reached over to shake the other’s, smile forming on her face. “ Ah, I do recall you being mentioned once or twice… oh, sorry, I should tell you my name first! Flora. Flora Reinhold. “ A giggle got out of her mouth as she quickly waved her free hand in dismissal before continuing to speak, elaborating more on his presumption. “ And no, I don’t work here. My brother, Alfendi, does though! It’s why I’m here so often. And also to just see whatever’s riled up the building. They get very talkative over the silliest things, don’t they? “ Normally, she wouldn’t be making as much conversation as she was now, she was quite the shy person when it came to talking to strangers…

But she didn’t need to worry about that in the Agency. Everyone here was nice, and that’s her being kind about the kind of aura they give off.

        “Really?!” So word really did get around in this agency! Well, maybe that was to be expected: a large agency, an extreme amount of people and a booming noise accumulated from their own separate voices was a pretty good recipe for that. Still, though, well—chalk it up to Kou not realizing that in the slightest until now. Of course he knew word got around in schools—hell, he was at Kamome Academy back home to dispel the spirits that roamed because of those rumors in the first place—but a workplace, which Kou wouldn’t have been allowed to touch in the slightest, seemed as good as the unknown.

        As soon as they had finished shaking hands, Kou’s own fell back behind him, interlacing with the other as he rocked between his toes and heels and listened. He froze and popped up when the girl introduced herself, stopping to focus all his energy towards her before continuing. “Oh! Uh—” Flora Reinhold! Flora Reinhold. Okay. “Got it!”

        ( Well, he probably did, and if he didn’t, he would… learn soon! Which was good enough. )

        “Wait, really?” Alright, well, Kou would never have realized that if she hadn’t mentioned it, at least for a few weeks. If his memory served right, the one mentioned was a detective, and Kou didn’t exactly bother anyone there: it was Wright and the rest of the defense attorneys who he would heckle, or anyone else who had paperwork to be found. “I mean, I think that makes sense,” Kou continued, already back to rocking on his heels as he listened. “Since Mitsuba usually visits and stuff, too! Though, uh—he never actually walks in.”

        Flora, Kou assumed, was a different matter, since they were actually family—and since she seemed much more eager than Mitsuba to peek in and see what was happening with her own two eyes, anyways.

so im back from dinner and

im still sorry for posting a 909 word reply

He was going to tug and tug with all his might even if Kou didn’t budge. If that was the way things ended up, then so be it, but Mitsuba wasn’t about to abandon him; he wasn’t about to leave Kou vulnerable again when that was still hanging so freshly over his head, the sound of his own failure echoing in his head even when there was nothing but silence to keep him company. Was this how Kou had felt, he wondered–? Was this how it felt to know that you had let someone down that you cared for so greatly, so much that the weight was crushing you and all you wanted to do was tear your heart free and stop feeling even if just for a second of relief?

But Kou did budge, and it seemed as if that had shaken him out of his trance; though Mitsuba wasn’t looking back, he could feel Kou actively trying to move with him instead of just being pulled uselessly along, now, and his voice (still far too quiet for Kou, and Mitsuba didn’t like it; he wanted Kou to be okay again) followed soon thereafter.

“I don’t know,” Mitsuba admitted, through the tears and the gasping and the pounding of his head and his heart and everything else in his body. “Away. Somewhere away.”

If they didn’t look back, it would almost be like it – he – Mitsuba himself – wasn’t there.

             “ e he heh eh he    h̴̙̔e̴̱͛h̵͉̉e̴͕̒.~ ”

It was fainter, at least, though Mitsuba knew that he was never going to be far behind. Was he targeting himself in particular, he wondered? It – if the jealousy of the Bent-Neck Boy was anything like the jealousy in Mitsuba’s heart now, he could understand why. He’d want to eliminate himself, too.

And – it hit him, in that moment. A clear realization, unlike any he’d had before, that he had been so, so jealous of the Mitsuba that had been able to be human and live his own life… but that Mitsuba had been so sad. He’d thought he’d had friends but he hadn’t, he’d had to hide who he was… he’d been miserable. And Mitsuba, this Mitsuba, now – he’d been so envious. But here, now, wasn’t he… wasn’t he someone who had friends? Wasn’t he someone who could live his own life without having to hide who he was?

He was… normal.

“…”

Mitsuba froze in his tracks.

          Mitsuba’s wish was: I want friends. I want to stay with my friends, forever and ever.

“–Minamoto-kun.”

Mitsuba raised his free hand up to his face, his sleeve wiping away his tears to the best of his ability. He hadn’t quite processed his switch back to Kou’s last name, but it seemed to come more instinctively; whatever desperation had overtaken him, he was trying his best to swallow back down, and it showed. Even as he turned around to face Kou again, though, it was obvious that he was just moments away from crumbling again. His teeth were clenched too tightly together to try to keep his jaw steady; his lower lip was trembling intermittently.

“I need you to stay here, Minamoto-kun. You have to keep yourself safe. I – I’m going to protect you this time, okay?”

“… um… so… I – I know I’m… I know I’m not the Mitsuba you want me to be, b-but I… I don’t want you to get hurt, and I… I don’t want you to feel like you failed that Mitsuba, either. Like – like you failed me.”

Kou was much better at these on-the-spot speeches, wasn’t he? Mitsuba slowly released his grip on Kou, his claw falling back down to his side. At some point he’d gone from looking at Kou to looking beside Kou; he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. Not once he’d really started talking.

“… I can’t… ask for you to face this when you might get hurt. This isn’t… your fight, I don’t think. Um… I – I just need you to trust me, please. I… I love you, and I can’t… if you get hurt again…”

The tears were coming back. Mitsuba swallowed thickly, very aware of a lump in his throat, and as he practically croaked out the last few words he forced himself to push past Kou and take off running, back in the direction of the Bent-Neck Boy.

        As much as the world around them was clearing up—a far cry from the fog that had once swallowed Archimedes whole—Mitsuba’s grip really was all that kept it from falling apart all over again. It was Kou’s single tether as he tried to make sense of the situation, and to figure out what to do. But Mitsuba didn’t stop running, and neither did he: he was too weak to pull away, too afraid of freezing up again and getting ensnared by old regret.

        If his grandparents could see him, they’d probably be yelling, rolling in their graves with fury. Here he was, saved by the hand of a supernatural, running away from one he couldn’t even defeat. No Minamoto had ever been recorded in history as running away. There was always walking away—walking with their backs turned and expressions proud. Even Teru-nii had done that, even when he hadn’t exorcised Hanako for good: that gait and bearing had been passed down from every generation to the next. But Kou—

        Kou didn’t have that. The blood of a high-level supernatural had never spilled over his hands and dropped to the ground; there was never a need to feel so accomplished in something he never did. He had walked besides supernaturals and behind them, never with his back turned to face them—and now, the only time that he did, he was sprinting for his own life, all his strength shoved towards running rather than fighting.

        But he couldn’t keep running forever. It wasn’t stamina that would stop him: he had enough to travel the length of the city and maybe more. But no sprint could outrun the memories still clinging to him, boiling his blood and warming the tears that still appeared. There was no ‘somewhere’ that wasn’t far enough from the sorrow that stayed by his side, always next to him and in front of him and behind him. And the more they ran—

        The closer it would’ve gotten to spilling over.

        They froze too quickly; Kou, still caught up in running away and thinking and trying to stop himself from regretting, couldn’t even speak. He threw his strength into watching and listening and couldn’t even object when Mitsuba made his speech and stuttered over his words. Because as much as Mitsuba wanted him to stay there, and to stay safe, and to stay out of this—

        He couldn’t. It was wrong—all of it was wrong. And even if he trusted Mitsuba—even if he trusted Mitsuba more than anything—it didn’t stop his eyes from widening at every word in his makeshift speech, or a sense of protest rising in his silenced throat.

        And when Mitsuba let go of his hand, and ran towards the ghost behind him, and when Kou turned with him—he couldn’t watch him go alone.

        “Mitsuba—” No. No—he was already a few steps ahead, and even though part of Kou wanted to ground himself there and let him run the entire length ahead, he couldn’t. “Mitsuba—wait!”

        He scrambled after him and caught to his hand in seconds, holding as tight as he could. Even after yelling—even if it could hardly be called a yell—his breath was shakier than his grip, with the thoughts that he wanted to say in his head but the words lost before they could reach his lips. There was so much to say, and the Bent-Neck Boy was still coming closer—but his head was so scattered, and he just couldn’t speak.

        “What—” he stopped, shaking, only continuing by forcing the words out before he lost them. “What are you saying? I don’t—I don’t know what you mean by—by the Mitsuba that—that I want you to be. Because you’re—”

        Because he didn’t need to be someone else. Because he was fine as himself—as he was right now, no matter what tried to say he was a different Mitsuba or he wasn’t him or—or anything else. Because—

        “Because you’re already yourself. That’s all I want you to be—!”

        All his breath felt like it’d left him again. But he had to—he had to keep going.

        “And I—” he did fail Mitsuba, and he knew it. There, in his memories, he could still remember it: the last moments before Tsukasa had appeared, the single second before everything fell apart. He failed that Mitsuba because he’d never managed to move on. Granting his wish and letting him move on from this shore—that was the very duty he swore when they first met again, and he would swear the former again, and again, and again. Even after he couldn’t do that the first time, he wasn’t the one to help him in the end—he’d done everything but that. And even as his breath shook and his eyes welled with tears and his grip grew unsteady, he knew that was more than enough to count. “I did. I did fail him. You don’t need to say I didn’t.”

        But. “But I can’t—I can’t stay out of this. Even if you won’t let me go alone—I have to help.” He couldn’t sit there and watch him disappear again. He had done that too many times already. “And—I know that I might get hurt. I know that you don’t want me to, and I trust you—I do. I really do. But I—”

Too late. It was going to be too late.

“Kou-kun!”

His voice had raised in pitch and fervor, desperately trying to get Kou to listen to him and realize they had to go. Mitsuba was so scared of losing him, of hurting him, and the closer the creaking got the more Mitsuba knew that hurt was inevitable. Just as Mitsuba drew close enough to be able to reach out and grab hold of Kou’s hand –

– just as he was about to tug him away –

“We have to… Kou-kun!”

Mitsuba could feel Kou freeze up, never mind see it. With fear gripping him so tightly, too, there was hardly anything he could think to do to make the situation better; he knew Kou had to have seen it, because he wouldn’t have reacted like this if it was anything else. Kou was someone who jumped into danger without thinking, and if Mitsuba had seemed desperate enough, Kou would have probably charged off after him to make sure he was alright. He was so self-sacrificial.

But this – what was Mitsuba supposed to do? What was Mitsuba supposed to do as the him-that-wasn’t-him drew closer to the two of them?

His hand was cold against Kou’s skin. Even with this fake life, it would never be warm again. His hair fell over his eye, dotted with blackened feathers, and – and – every part of him, especially like this, as Number Three, was so reminiscent. Kou wouldn’t be able to look at Mitsuba without seeing that. Without seeing the boy he’d failed to save.

And Mitsuba would never be real enough to replace that.

(Was he going to lose him? Was he going to lose Kou? He’d look at the Bent-Neck Boy and realize that this… that Mitsuba was just a sorry stand-in for someone who was dead and gone, and it didn’t matter how well Mitsuba could act like that one, the real Mitsuba was… the real Mitsuba would never…!)

“Kou-kun!”

The Bent-Neck Boy lurched forward and Mitsuba’s voice cracked through his sobs.

“We have to go, Kou-kun! I–I’m sorry that–we really have to go!”

Pink hair matched pink hair. The giant eye on his coat matched the hole in his chest. A cold hand matched a distorted rumour. The scar on his neck from an accident that he’d never remember.

          The Sousuke Mitsuba who lived and died as a human no longer exists in this world.

But – but here he –

A burst of strength coursed through him – desperation? adrenaline? he didn’t know – and Mitsuba managed gave Kou’s hand a distraught tug. “I don’t – I don’t want to lose you again!”

        He had dreamt about something like this for months now.

        During the first weeks, after Mitsuba had left, the dreams seemed like they would never end. Those same bandages always wove their way into them somehow, twisting fairytales and happy endings into nightmares and tormenting him over and over. He’d hear that same wish shattered with the crack of a lens and choke under his broken promise before he woke up, with warm tears to prove he was alive.

        If Kou had ever thought of talking to the Bent-Neck Boy in his dreams when he couldn’t speak, or fighting back when regret took his strength away, then it had been shot down each time. But now, even with his voice shoved back in his throat and his staff gripped in his hands—even when he had what he needed to do something—he couldn’t do anything at all.

        ( I don’t… )

        The longer he stood there, the more he started to lose sight of his surroundings. Everything had started to blur, memories and dreams weaving with the strange sort of reality that they had first found themselves in months ago. He could hear Mitsuba’s voice behind him—next to him—somewhere near him, yet not at all. He could hear his name and feel something around his hand, and he knew it was familiar—but the apparition in front of him pulled him away from recognizing or responding. On one hand, there was an intermittent warmth, shivery enough to freeze the back of his hand; on the other, there was a touch like ice, and it was so—it was so—

        It was so, so familiar. If Kou could have focused, it might have stilled him; even in the haze that was growing and shrouding around him, it was there, and enduring, and it was the only thing keeping him from sinking.

        In that moment, it was the only thing warmer than the sun.

                ( I don’t… )

        His eyes remained transfixed on the Bent-Neck Boy, still welling with tears that streamed down his arms. It drew closer and Kou couldn’t step back; he couldn’t even stumble. There was still that warmth wrapped around one hand, keeping it from succumbing to the fear and grief that wanted to suffocate him, but even that didn’t shake him away.

        Closer than the rumor in front of him, he heard Mitsuba again, his voice strained and wracked with sobs. With each yell, it had grown louder and louder, contending against the incoming creaks and laughter. It was growing clearer, now, as well, dispelling the fog in his ears and the haze in his vision—

        And as it did, the world began to move.

                I don’t want to lose you again!

        He was suddenly blinking over and over like something had dropped into his eye—but even more suddenly, his feet began to move. He turned to look at the reason why, and there Mitsuba was, pulling both of them along. The Bent-Neck Boy rushed behind them and Kou forced himself from turning his head back, focusing on Mitsuba and the path ahead instead. Reality had become clear again—but even then, as they continued to who knew where, a thought couldn’t help but persist in his mind.

        “Mitsuba—” his voice was still shaky, but it was different than before. He could breathe, this time; his voice was far more than a whisper, as strained as it started out. “Where are we going? And—”

        He didn’t want to ask. But he had to—he knew he did.

        “We can’t—we can’t keep running, can we—? Don’t we—we have to—”

kou-kun when are we going to the spa

  when his attack hits the mark, tsukasa’s smile widens enough to show off his fangs. there’s a specific kind of joy to being in control of a situation again. while he isn’t entire a fan of having to follow some strange organization’s orders to keep his power, tsukasa is more than willing to give the results in order to keep them. 

  kou’s words fall on deaf ears or, bare minimum, ears that don’t care enough to heed any of them. a righteous fool, that’s all the blond is. he wants to be a hero, save the day, keep these people safe when they can’t defend themselves at the cost of his own health or, if tsukasa gets the chance… his life.

  ( what a pointless endeavor. heroes don’t exist. )

  “ you’re awfully self-sacrificial, boy, ” he taunts, watching kou swing before sidestepping out of the way. tsukasa grabs the back of kou’s collar as he moves past, lifting him with ease before slamming him back first straight onto the concrete.

  “ if you won’t let me go and have fun with anyone else… you’ll have to take everything i hand out, okay? that’s what you’re saying, right? ”

        Cold silence and an icier sneer send shivers over Kou’s skin and through his veins, shivers that he desperately ignores in the heat of the moment. ‘Aren’t you going to respond?!’ he wants to say, in the same irate heroic tone as before—but for once, he shuts up, breathes as he swings down—

        And the staff hits the ground. Wood splits off and falls onto the ground, and Kou crashes down with it.

        ( It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts but—and he— )

        It hurts more than he could ever imagine. He can’t breathe—he can’t breathe, even as he tries and tries and tries and his head hurts and he can barely see. He tries harder, because he has to—even if Tsukasa is taunting and ignoring his movements as if they’re nothing to him. He tries, as if it’ll turn the outcome back to what it was before, when he had narrowly escaped a fight during their first month and gotten out completely alive, but Tsukasa’s grin is ever too close and disoriented isn’t enough to describe the shaky feeling that’s seeped everywhere and into everything. He can hear Tsukasa, remembers the taunt but barely enough of what comes after and tries to say something in response—

          @boyexorcist​. // security breach pt2.

For the past week, Mitsuba had felt like he’d failed. He’d failed Kou, he’d failed to do anything about the – the him that was stumbling around the island, he’d – he’d managed to not do anything. What good was it being able to pretend he was being useful, actually doing something to help people, if he couldn’t do anything about the things most important to him?

… it hurt.

He just wanted one moment where he felt like everything was okay again, but there had been a weight hanging over his head the entire time and he didn’t know what to do to get rid of it.

Even with their powers returned, Mitsuba had hoped Kou would try to stay out of the thick of it. He needed time to recover. He needed to – he needed to be okay. Mitsuba wanted to make sure Kou never got hurt ever again. It wasn’t a case of if he could help it – it was a case of ever. He refused. He refused to…

…to–

–there he was. Why was he out and about? Was his selflessness really so bad that even now, Kou would throw himself into the thick of it? The boy with the bent neck was only ever a few minutes away from Mitsuba, and–and Mitsuba–he–

“Kou-kun!”

It was a desperate shout; no thought of the fact he should have been calling him Minamoto-kun even stayed in his head. He was worried about him, about the person he cared about most, and here he – here he was, when – when –

          (crrrriiiiiicckkk.)

 “Kou-kun, you can’t–we can’t–”

“What are you doing!?”

If he saw it–if he saw it–!

        It had started out so simply.

        When Kou saw the darkened city crumbling in disarray, with the all-too familiar staff wrapped in fabric and propped at his bedside, what came to mind was even more familiar.

        Just what was he doing?

        He had been… resting. That was the logical answer. It was the most accurate way to describe the past few days, and it could be proven by a variety of things: the unstability in his legs when he got up from the bed, the curtains pulled only a quarter of the way open, and…

        His head pounded when he took the staff. An empty hand reached to his temple as his head lowered, staring downward with a dazed, blurring vision, desperately batting away every feeling that had surfaced in the past days of rest. The staff was the only thing keeping him from falling again, keeping his breath from stilling again as he gripped it tighter. Seconds passed in the span of minutes until the deluge subsided; it was replaced by a growing sense of spirit, emboldened by an age-old tenacity from before.

        He would help everyone else. If there was anything he could do now—anything—then it had to be that.

        ( When was it ever anything else? )

        He had slipped out in the midst of the day and run out to fight off disaster; he had just staved off a group to help someone, and saw them run off when he heard a far too familiar voice.

        “Mitsuba—!” What? Why did he sound so worried? Kou wasn’t in danger at all—and if he had anything to fear, then whatever it was, Mitsuba didn’t have to worry…!

        “I came out to help!” he yelled back. His footsteps thundered in his ears as he ran, so loud that he could hardly process the rest of the noise in the city. “It’ll be okay; you don’t have t—”

        A creak sounded, far, far louder than before. It rounded the corner, drawing nearer, dawning upon them in mist and shadows. And Kou—Kou—

        “Mitsuba—”

        It was almost impossible to hear his voice in the ruin around them. He couldn’t move or tear his eyes away, but he was shaking, his grip loosened on the staff at his side. The creaks were growing louder, louder than his own voice could ring in his ears—his breath was halting faster, each shorter than the last—

        His head was starting to spin. He couldn’t focus—it was getting harder to hear, and he could barely—

                ( …Hey, have you heard this rumor?                         It’s about the Bent-Neck Boy. You know, the one at… )

        He wanted to yell out, to do something—anything. He was supposed to. But when he tried—

  “ booooo~ooy! ”

  now, like before, tsukasa could have easily taken kou by surprise and thrown him into the nearest pile of rubble that was willing to house a body. where’s the fun in that, though? tsukasa knows without a shadow of a doubt that he has more power in this situation; there’s no reason to hide his identity.

  he doubts the kid would’ve made enemies anyhow.

  tsukasa drops in front of a nearby hole, craning his neck to gaze down and stare at the uncut wires before his attention goes back to kou. the edges of his eyes crinkle with the wide smile on his lips as he steps forward.

  “ i can’t let you cut these wires, you know? ” he starts, reaching out his arm as kokujoudai wraps around it and rests gently in his palm. “ if you want to do anything… you’ll have to get past me somehow. ”

  a beat of silence before his arm draws back and launches forward, sending the orb flying directly at kou’s stomach.

  “ i’ll go first! ”

        There’s nearly no-one who would call him in that same tone.

        Surrounded by the rubble, the city gasps with him, breath short and weak from panic. He’s alone—or he was alone—or he was alone too suddenly when he shouldn’t have been—or maybe all three. The staff weighs his hands down as his heart does. His expression, for once, does not reflect that: it locks with urgency, frozen with a clench of teeth and furrowed eyebrows and a focus on the boy who’s cornered him.

        “You—damn it, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Of course—of course he’d sign up for some shady organization like that—it doesn’t take much for Kou to realize how predictable that should’ve been. Even as he focuses on Tsukasa, it doesn’t stop him from yelling to him, anger trapped well in his throat. “Even if you’re sided with them, you’re not going to stop me,” he yells, taking a defensive stance as Kokujoudai falls into Tsukasa’s palm, “and you’re not going to get to mess up anyone else!”

        ( If he’s scared, then he pushes every fear and worry he can away. He isn’t scared; no matter what happens, he’ll be able to handle it.

                And everything—everything—will be fine. )

“Oh, the – I mean – it, the scarf is–” Don’t… don’t just deflect like that…! Kou was really… a lot, and he was really good at just… being able to say things like that like it wasn’t a big deal for someone to – for someone else to actually… say… nice things… to Mitsuba. “It, the – I –”

The redness of his face wasn’t going anywhere, so Mitsuba’s hand shot out, his index finger pressing a little too forcefully against Kou’s lips.

“Stop – saying … you think you can just… talk?”

“Y… you just – walk into the supermarket and say words!?”

His outburst barely had the spirit it might have had otherwise; whether it was the pounding of his heart or the redness of his face or the fact that looking across at Kou now meant that he was looking across at his boyfriend or even just the Whatever-Was-In-The-Air, Mitsuba seemed a little less… spirited. Not in a bad way; it was probably for the better that his own deflections seemed to be half-hearted at best.

He didn’t… want to hurt Kou’s feelings.

“…”

Mitsuba was – glad that everyone else in the store seemed to be preoccupied with their own thoughts and silly romances to pay any attention to the idiot teenagers, because he didn’t particularly feel like being perceived at this moment with how flustered the past several minutes had made him.

“… well… I’m sure between the two of us…”

“I – am allowed to help, right? If the two of us make it together…”

He’d managed to keep his words separate enough at least, but his cheeks were just getting hotter by the minute. He could swear it had even spread to his ears. Could supernaturals spontaneously combust? ‘cause Mitsuba swore he was about to.

“… it’d… be nice… I think.”

                ( You think you can just… talk? )

        …Huh?

        “Wh—” Kou’s confusion couldn’t be any more apparent: if it could have been, that additional indication had been stopped by the finger pressed on his lips. “What?”

                ( You just—walk into the supermarket and say words!? )

        Well, look at that, Mitsuba. If it hadn’t been obvious already by the following silence, Kou had, for once, shut up. That was even more of an accomplishment considering the mess that had flooded Spirale, and how all it did was make Kou talk… more, if that was a thing. The yells that had followed another round of Mitsuba’s flustery sputtering, as weak as they might have been this time, were enough to startle Kou into silence—which was for the better, really. It was better than…

        Well, what could he say?

        “Y-yeah!” He stepped back from Mitsuba’s hand, already leaning as far back as he could without falling. “Why wouldn’t I say words when I’m with you?”

       …So asking was a bad idea. Kou shut up promptly, again, for far less time than he had before, to listen, and then opened his mouth to say words again.

        “Yeah, of course! There’s no way that you wouldn’t be.” Besides, if they were going to his house, then he technically had some rights to using it, and they had basically no reason to stop him. It was almost Valentine’s, anyways—and as he thought that, he beamed, and added, “I think it’d be fun.”

        Kou held out his hand and moved forward, surveying the aisles and stopping every once in a while. After a few stops, he looked down at the basket, counting and checking each ingredient inside. “Mm—I think we have what we need! Should we, uh—actually leave this time with everything?”

“Absolutely not! ‘cause… ‘cause…”

…pfft…

“You’re the only clown I need!”

Pffthaha–!!

        “…Huh?” What?

“Mi-na-mo-to-kun.”

“Did you hear the circus is in town?” / @boyexorcist​.

        “Huh? No, I didn’t.”