#mtcfics

He asks about your day, chuckling when you murmur nothing but tired grumbles.

When the bath's full, he let's you go then watches you stagger into the tub with the grace of a newborn gazelle, his tail poised to catch you should you stumble.

He feels a sense of pride once you settle in and lean back, sighing as the warm water starts to work on your muscles.

He goes to grab the shampoo, but when he catches you closing your eyes, he strips then climbs in with you.

He takes his spot behind you, easing you back so you can use his body like a pillow. If you want to sleep you can. He'll keep you safe.

He massages your scalp and the nape of your neck as he lathers your hair with shampoo.

His tail lovingly caresses the front of your body as he keeps it wrapped around you.

Then he let's you rest.

He holds you close, murmuring words of praise for getting through another tough day.

When the water starts to cool, he washes out the soap then lifts you from the bath and wraps you in a towel.

He rubs you down, chuckling at your groggy face while his grip keeps you standing.

Then he carries you off to your bedroom.

He dries your hair, puts you in your comfiest pyjamas, then pulls you into bed for a long, much needed cuddle.

And to make sure you rest, he's not letting you out of his strong, comfortable arms until breakfast time tomorrow.

Ojiro and Hagakure often came to the beach to wind down after tough missions. It was a place they both enjoyed for different reasons. Ojiro liked the peaceful sound of the waves against the shore, and Hagakure liked the cool waters that eased her muscles after battle.

But recently, Ojiro had found another reason he enjoyed coming to the beach. The local, pop-up tiki bar had taken on some new hires and amongst them, you stood out like a diamond. Your smile had caught his attention from the get-go, stopping him midsentence the very first time he saw it. You radiated kindness and optimism, and never failed to welcome anyone who came to the bar looking for refreshments. Your positive energy had him hooked. Not to mention, you were very cute in the bar’s uniform; a bikini-top and wrap-skirt combo.

“I’m not in her league. There’s no way she’d be interested. I’ll stick to looking, thanks.”

Hagakure rolled her invisible eyes, annoyed but not surprised by Ojiro’s self-depreciating attitude.

“Coward. You won’t know until you try.”

“I do know. I don’t need to try.”

Hagakure grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at him.

“Alright. Fine. In which case, go get us some drinks. I’m thirsty.”

“No, you’re not.”

Ojiro’s tail flicked the dry sand off his bare shoulders as he chuckled. If Hagakure actually did need a drink, he would be the first guy to go and get it, but was reluctant to help when he knew she was only trying to play matchmaker.

“Am too!” She demanded, burying her feet in the warm sand. She put her hand to her forehead dramatically, feigning heat exhaustion. Given that she was covered in sand, Ojiro had no trouble seeing what she was up to. “I’ll collapse any moment. Be a dear and go get some water.”

Ojiro couldn’t stop himself smiling, watching her flop onto her back. Against his better judgement he started getting to his feet, heaving himself up with his hands on his knees. For all the rambunctious energy Hagakure had, he couldn’t believe she had just come off night patrol and was yet to actually go to sleep.

“Maybe I should just let you pass out then drag you back to campus like a sack of potatoes.”

Hagakure shot up to a sitting position.

“Oi! I’d be as light as a feather, and you know it.”

Ojiro rolled his eyes with another chuckle.

“Sit tight, drama queen.”

He dusted himself down then headed off towards the tiki bar. The walk wasn’t nearly long enough to prepare himself. He spent the first while wondering if he should have dumped Hagakure in the ocean instead of giving in to her demands, only to realise he had spent too much time wondering and was almost at the bar. Then he became painfully aware that he had no idea how to talk to pretty women.

He tapped the pocket of his swim shorts, checking for his wallet as he came up to the bar. There was no queue to give him a moment to prepare. As soon as he was within reasonable distance, you waved hello with that heart-fluttering smile of yours, calling out,

“What can I get you?”

Ojiro stalled for a split second, caught offguard by the way your optimism was aimed squarely at him, then managed to recover fast enough not to come to a complete stop.

“Hi,” he said, trying his best to return your friendly expression. He had so many things he wanted to say, but as he sidled up to a barstool and saw you up close for the first time, his mouth fell open as his brain short circuited. The phrase you’re so beautiful nearly came tumbling from his mouth, but thankfully the first syllable got stuck in his throat.

You kept your eyes on him, tilting your head with a playfully happy expression while he carried on failing to give you his order.

By grace of the gods, he managed to catch himself when another customer appeared at the side window, asking you for a straw, and you turned your attention away for a moment. It was your eyes. He had not expected them to be so… oh man, he was down hard.

He sat up straight, rigid but alert, when you turned your gaze back on him.

“A water,” he said, sounding so calm it shocked him. “Please.”

You nodded, already turning to reach behind the counter for the mini fridge stocked with colourful cans and bottles.

“You got it.”

You took out a bottle of water then popped the cap and put it on the counter, keeping your fingers wrapped around it. You smiled mischievously, tilting your head as you looked at him.

“Surely that can’t be everything? No one sits on a barstool and asks for water.”

Apparently today was the day women were going to call Ojiro out on his poorly veiled intentions.

“Ah. Actually, the water’s for my friend...” He pointed over his shoulder without taking his gaze from you. Your eyes lit up like fireworks.

“That’s more like it. So what’ll you have?” You pushed the bottle towards him, leaning over the counter a little. Ojiro felt his heart begin to hammer at the sight of you leaning towards him in that bikini. He found himself striking you with very intense eye contact all of a sudden, whilst his entire tail wound down the central pole of his barstool to keep a grip on reality. He reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“I’m good, thank you—”

He cut himself off, completely unguarded against the babyish pout that hit your lips before he could finish his sentence.

“Aw, really? It’s such a nice day. You should treat yourself a little.” You leaned your chin on your hand, looking up at him through your lashes. “Come on. I can recommend you something, if you’d like?”

Ojiro was only thankful that his sheer willpower was enough to stop him looking lower than where your chin rested on your hand.

He hadn’t intended to buy something for himself, but despite your obvious sales tactics, he was rather enjoying the interaction.

“What would you suggest?”

You stood up straight, the pout disappearing as fast as it had come. With a wide, happy grin, you grabbed a menu then opened it to face him.

“What are you feeling? Fruity, smooth, dry, or fizzy?”

You fingered over the different parts of the menu, with Ojiro enjoying the way you tucked your hair behind your ear as you focused on what you were showing him.

“Um. Smooth, I think. Something refreshing.”

You nodded and drew back, grabbing a glass from overhead.

“Any allergies?”

It was hard to believe you’d only been working at the bar for a few weeks, given how confident you were. As casually as breathing, you grabbed two bottles with long spouts in one hand then started pouring them into a shaker.

Ojiro smiled, watching you.

“No, nothing.”

With a nod, you pursed your lips then flittered around the small bar, filling the hurricane glass with ice, and the shaker with colourful liquids and sizeable measures of liquor.

“Do you want me to hold off on the decorations? Or do you want a big, bendy straw and a little umbrella?”

Ojiro chuckled, surprised you would offer him a choice.

“You can put the decorations on.”

You grinned wider, your eyes sparkling.

“Good. I thought I liked you. The best kind of guy is one who doesn’t mind a little silliness.”

Your words sent a ripple of warmth through his whole body, and it was only his tail still wrapped around the barstool pole that stopped it wagging hard enough to become a dangerous weapon.

You started filling the glass with fruit and decorations, then without warning, you leaned across the counter and slipped a blue paper umbrella into his hair. Your fingers traced the shell of his ear as you pulled back and he shivered, enjoying the goosebumps. His stool creaked as his tail tightened around it like a vice. If he looked silly, he didn’t even care.

“Are you like this with all your customers?”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he knew what he was doing. Internally, he winced. But you chuckled as you lifted the shaker into the air, eyeing what you could see of him up and down.

“What do you think?”

At least you took it well. Ojiro mulled over the question as you shook his drink, coming to the conclusion that he would be delusional to think anything other than you were just very good at your job. You had him feeling very special after only a few sentences and a little flirty body language.

You poured the cocktail then set it down on the counter and added the last of the garnish.

“One Tequila Sunrise.” You quirked an eyebrow with a smile. “ID please.”

Ojiro looked at you, wondering if you were being serious. He chuckled, reaching into his pocket for his ID, regardless.

“Aren’t you meant to card someone before you make the drink?”

“Maybe I get to drink the ones I have to refuse.”

Ojiro laughed at the cheeky answer then slid his ID across the counter.

“I can’t remember the last time I got carded.”

He said, noticing the way you looked back and forth between the ID and him once you picked it up, your smile growing with each passing moment. By the time you handed it back, you looked both pleased and giddy. He had to wonder why until you popped the cash register then closed it again.

“Drinks are on me.”

“Wha—”

You cut him off.

“Look, I don’t get to serve the Number 32 Pro Hero, Tailman, every day. Seriously. It's free. Thanks for working so hard all the time.”

Ojiro’s tail nearly ripped his barstool out from under him.

“Wait- no- I don’t mind. Please.”

Ojiro pulled his debit card out, his cheeks flushing pink from the fact you recognised him. He had given you his civilian ID; it didn't mention anywhere that he was a hero. The only information was a photo and his name. Which meant not only were you aware of Pro Hero: Tailman's existence, but knew that Tailman's real name was Mashirao Ojiro. And very few people cared enough to know that.

He jerked in his seat, his tail very nearly tipping him off the barstool in its attempt to wag.

You raised your hands, palms open to refuse his card.

“Absolutely not. This one’s on me.”

He wanted to push it, but didn’t want to refuse your kind gesture. He relented, taking back his ID and tucking it, along with his wallet, back into his shorts.

“Thank you.”

Every fibre of his being wanted to ask you questions; Had you known he was Tailman the whole time? Did you follow his work? Maybe one of your friends did, and you knew of him through them? He desperately wanted to believe it was you. Or maybe you were like Pro Hero: Deku, and fanatically followed the Hero Billboards for fun. That was more likely it, but he just couldn’t shake the pleased feeling from his chest that you knew his real name.

Ojiro was very careful when he pried his tail off his chair, focusing hard on extracting it without taking down the tiki bar in the process. He grabbed his drinks, feeling the paper umbrella fluttering in his hair as he turned into the gentle breeze.

If he was a more confident man, he’d flirt and say it wasn’t fair that you knew his name and he didn’t know yours. He’d ask for your number. He’d joke that he’d be back if your cocktail recommendation was bad, or maybe he’d be back to tell you if it was great.

If he was a more confident man.

But instead, he gave you a curt nod goodbye, taking one last look at your radiant smile, before turning away. He nearly walked straight into two guys headed to the bar. He heard your honey-sweet voice, calling to them,

“What can I get you guys?”

He couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if you’d pull them into a few minutes of bliss, like you had with him. He wondered if they’d appreciate it like he did.

The first thing Hagakure spotted was Ojiro’s goofy grin as he wandered back over to where she was sunbathing. She sat up, spotting the cocktail and the umbrella in his hair.

“Did you have fun, by any chance?”

Ojiro laughed, knowing what she was probably looking at.

“You could say that.”

He handed her the water then used his tail to lower himself to the floor without spilling his drink.

As he landed in the sand, he finally seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Hagakure’s water, then his cocktail.

“Oh. Damn. I should have got you a proper drink. Do you want mine?”

Hagakure started laughing.

“Put you in front of a pretty girl and you turn to goo. Forget the drinks, did you get her number?”

Ojiro’s entire face turned scarlet now that he didn’t have to worry about holding his composure.

“Are you crazy? Of course not.”

“What do you mean, of course not? You have an umbrella in your hair! Unless you’re woefully bad at flirting and put the damn thing in yourself, that was an open invitation.”

Ojiro supped his drink bashfully, though his tail wagged a little more as the flavour hit him.

“I lied,” said Hagakure. “I want a proper drink. Go back. Go. Back. You’re not fighting me on this. Go back over there, you hopeless bag of muscle.”

Despite his embarrassment, Ojiro couldn’t help laughing as Hagakure scrambled up then tried hauling him up by his tail.

“I can’t. I’m scared I’ll put her out of pocket again.”

Hagakure stopped dead.

“Did she… did you get a free drink?”

Ojiro knew he was digging his own grave by offering up the information, but he was still enjoying the fact that you knew him.

“Yes. She paid for it as thanks. For… all my Pro Hero work.”

Ojiro heard the slap as Hagakure put her hands to her face in shame.

“You didn’t boast about being a hero to get a free drink, did you? God, I knew you were bad with women but—”

Slipping straight past those blows to his ego, Ojiro raised his hands in defence.

“I didn’t! She recognised me. I didn’t say a thing about being a hero. I’m off duty. I wouldn’t.”

Ojiro yelped as Hagakure grabbed his tail again, doubling down on trying to pull him up.

“Get your butt back over there and ask her out immediately.” She demanded. But then she suddenly let go. “No. You know what? Stay there.”

As Hagakure started marching off across the beach, Ojiro went against his better judgement and stayed put. Hagakure seemed pretty adamant. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop her without force, he chose to look out at the ocean and enjoy his cocktail, taking little sips as he tried not to think of what Hagakure could be doing, saying, or scheming.

He leaned back on one arm, letting the sun bask against his bare chest. He lifted his face, his eyes shutting as the day’s warmth settled over him, and focused on the sounds of the waves. With his eyes closed, he pictured your face again; that smile as you realised who he was. He didn’t think he would ever forget it.

He twitched a little in alarm, hearing Hagakure’s sudden and not so subtle squeal of excitement on the winds. He wondered what that was about, refusing to let his hopes get too high. For all he knew, she might have just seen something especially fluffy. He kept his eyes closed, focusing all his attention on the taste of his cocktail.

It wasn’t long before he heard the familiar patter of feet through the sands towards him. He opened his eyes and looked Hagakure’s way, only to nearly drop his drink. It wasn’t Hagakure. It was you.

Ojiro shot up in greeting, trying not to let his alarm slip onto his face as he staggered and smiled your way. He wasn’t prepared last time, and he definitely wasn’t prepared this time.

“Is everything okay?”

Even with you walking towards him with your arms out wide like a child keeping her balance and that smile on your face, he couldn’t believe you were here to see him in anything other than an emergency capacity.

You laughed as you came to stand in front of him, your hands clasped behind your back.

“Your friend said she’d man the bar for five. She’s really nice.”

Instinctively, Ojiro looked past your shoulder to double check that the tiki bar wasn’t already on fire, then looked back at you.

“Hagakure didn’t force you to come over, did she?”

You shook your head.

“Not at all. She told me a few things, but coming over was my idea.”

Ojiro flinched, wondering what Hagakure could have possibly said, but he was far more interested to know you were in front of him of your own doing.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, then slipped your hand into the cup of your bikini top. Ojiro stiffened and looked skyward, his heart melting when you giggled again. “Don’t worry, I’m not flashing you.”

He didn’t think you were, but it was too much like temptation for him when your hand was so close to an area he knew would be rude to stare at.

While he kept looking at the clouds in the sky, you said,

“I thought it was you when I saw you coming towards the bar. It’s hard to miss your tree-trunk thick tail. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself if I was wrong, though. But I let myself get hopeful anyway. To answer your question earlier, no, I’m not like that with every customer. That flirting was just for you.”

Ojiro’s gaze shot back down to you, his eyes widening.

“It was?”

He was so surprised by the revelation that he didn’t notice what you were holding out towards him for a moment. But then he spotted the slip of paper, folded neatly in half. He took it in one hand and flipped it open with his thumb. Then his tail started wagging again.

“You’re giving me your number?”

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you nodded.

“Hagakure said you’re bad with women. I don’t mind. It’s pretty sweet, actually. I was just happy to talk to you. But she said you have a bit of thing for me, so…”

Ojiro laughed despite himself, realising Hagakure probably hadn’t spared any details of his pining from you.

“Yeah, I do actually. Even if I wussed out on telling you.” He sighed, looking into your pretty eyes now that he felt he could. “But with the cat out of the bag… can I ask what time you get off work? I’d love to take you to dinner.”

Thankfully you didn’t pause before giving him an answer.

“I finish at six.” Ojiro felt humbled, seeing the slightest hint of nerves touching your face as you asked, “So I’ll… definitely see you then?”

You had nothing to be anxious about. You were stunning, and charming, yet for some reason you looked like you were worried about him saying no to you. He held your note to his chest, his smile widening effortlessly as he took in every detail of you, the sun shining down on you, making his heart warm.

“It’s a date.”

------

You get popular quick and she doesn't like it.

She wants to devour you but you're never around the house outside of work hours.

Feeling frustrated, one day Daki sends the youngest girls from the house to find you.

They return, saying you're at the Rashomon Riverbank.

Gyutaro is told to hunt you that evening and end you himself, since you have a night off but Daki's working.

More tedious stuff, he complains, but he supposes he can do it for his sister.

Gyutaro finds you at Rashomon, sat on some shabby porch as you comfort a crying, deformed, urchin of a girl.

Curiosity stops him from devouring you, especially when you sneak the little wretch a bag of candy and some money, telling her to share with her brother.

He assumes you're only pretending to be kind, with some nefarious ulterior motive up your sleeve, and keeps you alive so he can find out what.

Daki isn't happy but relents when Gyutaro says it's keeping him entertained.

He separates from Daki more often, tailing you to the riverbank on every evening off.

He finds nothing evil about you.

No matter how much he expects it, no matter how long he waits for you to do something wicked, you show nothing but compassion and kindness to those shunned and deformed children.

It baffles him. People like you don't exist.

He's thrown completely for a loop.

Soon, he's asking Daki to befriend you, to spend time with you so he can figure you out. His curiosity keeps growing.

Naturally, Daki doesn't like that plan. How dare he ask her to befriend a girl she told him to devour.

But when he pushes, she laughs. She realises he's interested in you, and mocks him for being bewitched by such a common wretch.

Daki befriends you out of callous entertainment. She gets close with you, touchy-feely and overly pleasant.

Gyutaro doesn't care about her bratty behaviour, and brushes off her accusations.

But over time he does become aware of a weird ache in his chest when you smile as Daki dotes on you.

An uncomfortable tug that won't leave him alone.

He watches from within Daki, disconnected from the arms he sees wrapping around you, yet somehow wondering how it would feel to have you in his.

Daki laughs at him when they're alone, feeling his ever-growing longing.

"She wouldn't even accept you as a client, dear brother, let alone love you. You're far too ugly."

He doesn't want love. He's just... curious.

Then one evening, he finds you running back to the house with tears in your eyes. You're beside yourself.

You lock yourself in your room and sob.

Gyutaro makes Daki check on you. She's angry that he's still obsessed, even after she's proven you're boring and wretched, but does as he asks.

Gyutaro watches as Daki goes to you. Sees you collapse beside her, sobbing that you got some children killed.

You admit you've been watching over some orphans from Rashomon.

They were found with candy addressed to you -- gifts from clients that you'd given them -- but they'd been accused of stealing and killed.

Daki, upon seeing the similarities between your story and her own time as a human, finally understands Gyutaro's fascination.

She does what she can to console you, but feels Gyutaro's bloodlust spiralling out of control within her.

Unable to cope with the memories and feelings from his human life, nor seeing your tears, Gyutaro heads to Rashomon the moment he is able, finds the culprits and tears them limb from limb.

That evening, after you're done with your clients, Gyutaro checks on you through the bedroom window.

You sit still for a while, then when all is quiet, you suddenly invite him in.

You know he's there, you say. You always feel his presence when Daki's with you, around town at night, or sometimes watching you like this. You want to meet him.

He enters because you ask, but warns you not to expect much.

Seeing him, you're quick to call him a demon, but only as a matter of fact.

You aren't as horrified as he expected.

"You've been following me for weeks but haven't harmed me. I'm taking that as a good sign."

He says no, he meant: *gestures to his repulsive face*

With an air of understanding, you smile and extend your hands to him.

Gyutaro knows the gesture, because Daki sometimes does that when she wants a hug, but he's confused why you're doing it.

He grows hostile, asking what you're doing.

You pause, then ask if he was the cause of the samurai massacre by the riverbank earlier.

He admits to it, even knowing you'll be repulsed by his answer.

But instead of repulsion, you reach out to him again.

You ask him to come closer.

His aggression lulls but he stays wary.

This has to be some trick.

But he comes to you. He leans down towards you when you ask.

Then you hug him.

Gyutaro already has a sickle at your back before he recognises the gesture.

But then he feels a comforting warmth he's never felt before -- something no one has dared bestow on him until now.

He drops his weapon but is too surprised to do much else.

You thank him through tears for avenging the children.

You're making him out to be some noble knight. He killed them on a self-gratifying whim.

The shock he feels from your affectionate touch only doubles when you ask him to visit you again to say thank you.

His response is less than delicate.

"What's wrong with you? Why would you want that? I'm hideous. Rotten. I maim for fun. I eat people."

You smile, unperturbed, and repeat that he is yet to hurt you.

Your gentle hands trace soothing patterns over the terrible, disjointed ridges of his spine, filling his ancient body with a strange sense of calm.

"Perhaps there's more humanity to demons than people think." You say.

Your naivety is both cute and dangerous. A mindset that will likely get you killed.

With a defeated sigh, Gyutaro figures it wouldn't hurt to slink into your room after hours from time to time.

He can check in on you to see if you're still in one piece.

Besides, it feels sort of nice here, in your arms. He's never met someone willing to see past his disfigurements and hold him like some regular client.

You're an odd one, that's for sure.

Perhaps he'll be able to entertain himself with you for a while.

------

Without meaning to, your gaze wandered across to Ojiro. He was sharing a couch with Tokoyami, looking as calm and as cheery as always, wearing black sweats and a grey, sleeveless hoodie that kept pulling your gaze back to the broad definition of his shoulders.

He glanced your way as you watched him. He seemed surprised at first, but smiled and gave you a little wave hello. With a jerk, you sat up straight and dragged your attention back to Ashido, already feeling your cheeks threatening to burn.

You just couldn't look at him the same way now.

During the last week before vacation, you had found yourself in just the right place at the right time to overhear Ojiro defending you to a group of boys from another class. Apparently they had said some less-than-reputable things about you. Which wasn't unheard of. You knew you were a bit of an odd-bod and people did like to talk.

But you'd never heard Ojiro so angry before. He was quick to defend you, and even went as far as rattling off a long list of things he liked about you to prove that they had misjudged you.

Honestly, you'd never heard anyone say such nice things about you before. Let alone so many at once. Every time you thought back on the moment, you ended up flustered.

Trouble was, now you couldn't look at him without feeling nervous. He'd only defended you as a friend, but knowing that he had your back like that, and that he thought all those nice things about you... it was hard not to look at him differently. It was hard not to notice the softness in his expressions, or the deep lull of his laugh, and suddenly you were seeing handsome little quirks in his mannerisms that you were sure hadn't been there before.

Your feelings were getting out of control, and what was worse, you knew you were making a bigger deal out of him defending you than necessary.

You didn't like that your heart was trying to jeopardise your friendship, so you were doing all you could to hold Ojiro at arm's length until you got it under control.

"Let's play snuggle-bug!" Ashido announced.

The declaration was met by confused silence.

"Snuggle-what-now?" Hagakure asked. She sounded intrigued, but no less confused than anyone else.

"Snuggle-bug!" Ashido said again, like she couldn't believe no-one had heard of it before. "Oh, come on. It's like hide-and-seek. We draw lots to decide who the bugs are, then everyone spreads out; the bugs have to hide and everyone else has to find them. If a bug isn't found in ten minutes, they win. Otherwise the person snuggling them at the end wins."

"Snuggling them--?" Mineta nearly choked. "You mean actually, physically cuddling them?"

"Yes!" Ashido said with a gleeful grin. "And if someone else finds your bug before the end of the game, you've got to give up your bug and find a new one. So if you like your bug..." She made meaningful eye-contact with a few different people, including you. "You'd better keep them hidden."

The hairs along your neck stood up. For some reason you felt like your secret feelings had already been rumbled. But surely Ashido couldn't know. You'd told no one, and had done your best to keep things under wraps.

"Let's do it!" Kaminari said eagerly, leading a charge that rippled through everyone and got them into a man-hunting mood.

That, or everyone really needed a hug.

After some prep-work, Ashido had all of you pick a slip of paper from a bowl. Three of the slips were bugs, and the rest were blanks.

You checked your paper. On it were the words: 'snuggle bug.'

Your heart started beating nineteen to the dozen. That was a lot of pressure.

Faced with the uncertainty of who could be about to cuddle you, you suddenly became aware of all the different players. You glanced at Mineta, in particular. If he wasn't also a bug, you needed to make sure you hid well.

When the game began, Yaoyorozu shut off the lights then everyone fanned out. You had one minute to hide, then the claxon would blare to signal the start of the game.

You didn't know the layout of Yaoyorozu's home all that well, but luckily, aside from the class president herself, no one else did either. Hoping to use that to your advantage, you put as much distance between you and the lounge as you could. The main house was large. It would take anyone a while to search room-by-room. So you needed to find a far-away corner to sit tight in.

And you found just the spot in Yaoyorozu's parents' room. You hesitated at first, realising whose room it was, but figured that the same hesitation might stop others coming in to find you, too.

You climbed into the large ottoman at the foot of the bed just as the claxon sounded.

Ten minutes. You could do this.

As you waited to hear the second claxon, you congratulated yourself on finding such a comfortable hiding spot. You hoped Yaoyorozu's parents could forgive you for lying on their folded bed-linens, though. Even with ample wiggle-room, you tried to keep still so things wouldn't get too creased.

It was hard to tell how much time passed. You were in total darkness and the linens muffled most noises, but when you listened closely you could hear people running around. You wondered if another bug had been found yet.

The creak of a floorboard suddenly pulled you from your thoughts and back to your senses. The fact you hadn't had to strain to hear the noise meant one thing: someone was in the room.

Suddenly aware of how loud your breathing was, you clamped your hands over your mouth and stayed deathly still. You wondered what your chances were of remaining unfound. But then again. If you were anyone else, the person-sized chest would be the first place you'd check.

Their footsteps were quiet. You really had to strain to hear them -- which immediately put you on edge. They either had to be someone light-footed, or someone who weighed less than average because they were small.

That last thought horrified you.

You prayed not to see Mineta's purple hair as the chest opened.

Truthfully, you were only half-relieved when you saw it wasn’t him.

“Ah. You found me.”

You looked up at Ojiro, noticing that his tail started wagging when he realised who he had found, nestled amongst the bedding.

Even in the dark, you could see his pleased smile.

“I guess I don’t need to ask if you’re a snugglebug, then?”

He stepped back, offering you his hand to help you out of the chest.

But you hesitated to move. You could only be thankful for the lack of lighting. It hid the fact you were both giddy and panicking at the same time.

The game dictated that you and Ojiro had to cuddle. It was the best—no, worst—no... it was a situation, and you didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t sure if your heart could take having Ojiro cuddling up to you now, not when you were trying desperately to deny your own feelings for him.

But you supposed snuggling was the name of the game. You had to do it, to avoid the question of why you didn’t want to do it. It would only be for a short while. You could endure the cuddle, as long as your heart remained under strict instructions not to run off with your feelings.

Perhaps Ojiro caught wind of your hesitation, as he let his hand drop when you failed to climb from the ottoman. He cleared his throat, then sat down with his back pressed against the outside of the box. For a moment, he looked back at you with a friendly smile then turned his attention elsewhere.

When he seemed to look settled, you quirked an eyebrow. You opened your mouth to ask if he actually intended to cuddle you, but stopped when you realised it would come out sounding desperate.

You couldn’t ignore how disappointed you felt, lying alone in the ottoman now.

“Aren’t you… meant to hug me or something? That’s how the game works, right? You cuddle the bug?”

You did your best to play your nerves off as a playful dig as you sat up, resting your chin on the lip of the ottoman. Ojiro couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw what you were doing, how childish you looked with a small pout on your lips that you weren’t aware you were making. But then his smile faltered.

“I won’t force you into a cuddle you don’t want. I’d never want to… make you uncomfortable.”

Silence followed. You weren’t sure what to say. His words felt loaded, and you could hear a melancholy tone to his voice that made your chest ache. This wasn’t like him.

As Ojiro continued, he ran his hand up through the back of his hair awkwardly.

“…You’ve been acting different around me recently. Kind of skittish. The last thing I want is to invade your personal space if... you don’t want me there.”

Guilt hit you instantly. Of course Ojiro had noticed you keeping him at a distance. And instead of calling you a bad friend, he was being considerate of your feelings. Just another reason to add to the pile of why your heart increasingly, desperately wanted him.

However, his wording really caught your attention.

You cleared your throat with a quiet cough.

“So, um, just to clarify… do you want to cuddle with me, or not?”

Ojiro’s tail swished like a suddenly-wary cat.

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

You rolled your eyes at his answer, then sat up so you could lean out of the ottoman to look at him properly.

“I asked what you want.”

It was dark so you couldn’t see the full effects of your statement, but given that you only managed to hold Ojiro’s gaze for a moment before he glanced away, you had to wonder if he was blushing. His tail swished again.

“I’d… I’d like to cud—I’d like to cuddle you.” He stammered, though his final words were definitive. There was no chance for misinterpretation. And hearing them only made your heart ache more. Not only were you fighting your feelings, but now you felt guiltier. Because no matter what Ojiro was to you, you had pushed him away and he had noticed. And he wanted to cuddle with you – whether for comfort or something else, you didn’t care. You only knew that you weren’t going to turn him away now, your heart be damned.

Despite the turbulence inside yourself, your words came out in that same, playful and calm manner Ojiro knew from you so well.

“Come cuddle me then.”

You laid down in the ottoman, pressing yourself to the front of it to give Ojiro space should he actually want to join you.

You held your breath. You didn’t know how this would go. But to your relief, you heard Ojiro heave himself up from the floor then he carefully climbed in behind you, before pulling you tight against his chest with very little ceremony, his muscular arms holding you close to him.

You had to fight to hold in the gasp that threatened to burst out of you. You hadn’t expected Ojiro to be this willing to have you pressed so tight against him.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, his breath fanning the back of your ear as his words came out softly. “It’s a tight fit with my tail. It’s always getting in the way.”

You tried to reason with yourself then that, at least in part, Ojiro’s bold embrace was strategic. Holding you close was the only way to get you, him, and his small-human-sized tail into the ottoman all at once.

When he was settled, Ojiro’s tail flicked the ottoman closed, then he rested it over you, hugging you with it like a third arm.

Your face felt like it was on fire. So much of Ojiro’s body was pressed against you, and it felt even better than you could ever have dreamed. His strong muscles, now relaxed, were spongy and soft like pillows, yet you could still feel the strength in arms as he held you.

You weren’t sure you could utter a word coherently right now, so you kept quiet, and instead listened to his breathing as his presence invaded your senses. He was so close. He was so warm. His breath fanned gently against the back of your neck, and he held you so close that you could smell that familiar scent of oranges and vanilla that he liked to wear, mixed in with the comforting smell of his skin.

Unable to find the words, you stayed that way for some time, simply curled up in Ojiro’s arms as you fought to hate the feeling, but you couldn’t. It felt too good.

Just then, you heard the creak of a floorboard. You gasped in surprise, while Ojiro pulled you closer. His wasn’t a jumpy, knee-jerk reaction like yours. It was a slow and deliberate movement, like he was pulling you closer to make you feel safe.

Both of you listened for a while, waiting to hear another sound. But nothing came. Not from close by, anyway. You could still hear the muffled sounds of your classmates around the house, both yells and laughter, but nothing to make you think you’d been found.

You didn’t want to be found. You wondered if you might manage to stay here until the game ended, whenever that might be.

As you thought about that, a knot twisted in your stomach. You didn’t know how much longer you had left. What would happen when the game was over and you no longer had the obligation to cuddle with Ojiro… and he no longer had the obligation to cuddle with you?

“Ojiro…” you began, but couldn’t bring yourself to say more; to admit how you were really feeling. But as the quiet carried on, you realised it needed to be said. You couldn’t bear Ojiro thinking you were uncomfortable around him; that he had done something wrong. You didn’t want him thinking that this cuddle… that you were only willing to do it as part of a game. Because you knew that was the furthest thing from the truth.

You dared to bring your voice just above a whisper as you swallowed to clear your throat.

“I overheard you at school.”

Ojiro pulled you closer, lifting his head so his cheek was pressing against the side of your face so he could hear you better.

“When?”

“When you defended me against those boys. What you said about me.”

His body tensed. It was hard for you to miss.

“I…” he began to stammer, his voice barely contained to a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry if I— I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. Is that—is it why you’ve been acting off around me—”

Hearing the desperation growing in his voice, you cut him off by finishing your thought.

“It made me so happy.”

Ojiro went quiet. He breathed a single word, like he couldn’t believe what his own ears had heard.

“What?”

You touched his arm as he held you, both as a sign of affection and to steel yourself for the rest of what you had to say.

“I’ve never heard anyone say such nice things about me before. It made me happy. Maybe… too happy.”

You paused to take a breath. You knew you had to tell him why you’d been avoiding him. You knew you had to come clean.

But before you could utter the words, Ojiro turned his face towards you to speak, his nose nuzzling your cheek as he did.

“I meant every word of it. You really are the sweetest girl. You might be a little different but that’s why I like you.”

“Ojiro, I—”

“That’s why I really like you.”

His words hung in the air. What had first sounded like a confirmation of friendship, now had your heart in a tizzy.

“You... like me?”

You murmured, sounding shocked and in disbelief.

Ojiro squeezed you. His tail started wagging, thump-thump-thumping against the side of the ottoman.

“I really do. And I only realised how much once I thought I’d done something to make you hate me. It made me realise… I don’t want to lose you.”

Your guilt at keeping Ojiro at arm’s length hit you all over again.

“I’m sorry. I only kept my distance because I was afraid of my feelings.”

Ojiro’s tail started thumping harder against the side of the ottoman. He couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice.

“Do you like me too?”

Unfortunately the revelation came too late, as Ojiro’s excited tail became a beacon for your location. He had no time to rectify his mistake, as in the next moment, the top of the ottoman lifted up and the pair of you looked up to see Kaminari peering down. Ojiro’s hold on you grew much tighter. You groaned at Kaminari’s terrible timing.

Oblivious to the moment he had just interrupted, Kaminari grinned triumphantly.

“Which of you is the snugglebug?”

Seeing no way to get the moment back, you begrudgingly raised your hand.

“I am.”

Kaminari’s grin only broadened. He threw his thumb over his shoulder, looking at Ojiro.

“Shift it.”

Ojiro hesitated. He made no effort to move at all. Then, suddenly, the claxon blared, making all three of you jump. Kaminari straightened up after hearing the sound, throwing his hands into his hair with an exasperated groan.

“Are you kidding me? I was just about to snuggle with a hottie. Come on!”

The fact he had technically won did not seem to matter. Kaminari felt robbed.

As he skulked off, Ojiro began untangling himself from you, then helped the both of you out of the ottoman. When you were out, in true Ojiro style, he started trying to straighten out the crumpled bedlinen out of respect for Yaoyorozu’s parents. You watched him with a smile, though you felt nervous. Both of you had just confessed your feelings like it was the most natural thing in the world, but you had no idea where that left the two of you.

You bit your lip as he straightened up then closed the ottoman with his tail, giving his attention back to you.

Now that your eyes were adjusted to the darkness, you could see the warmth in his expression as he looked at you. It eased your worries, but you needed to know for sure.

“So… what now?” You asked.

Without missing a beat, Ojiro offered you his hand to hold.

“How about a movie this weekend? Not with the gang, I mean. Just... you and me.”

You could hear the nerves in his voice, like he was putting his heart on the line for this.

With a warm smile, you slipped your hand into his then gave it a squeeze to reassure him.

“I’d like that.”

Now that your fingers were intertwined, the two of you headed back to the lounge, both feeling as nervous but as happy as each other. Neither of you were prepared for Hagakure’s happy, banshee-like screeching the moment she set her sights on you.

You smiled as Ojiro’s hand held yours tighter, then he led you into the room.

So, you didn’t manage to win snugglebug. But truly, you didn’t mind. What you had won, and what the future held, was much, much better.

------

The course, again, was lined by trees, though their birth around the perimeter was much wider. It still felt secluded, but left Krel feeling like he had a lot of room to explore.

After a few minutes of descent, the course took a sudden steep drop, with a short ramp some few metres after. Avoidable, if necessary, but not something Krel worried about hitting.

Aligning himself with the ramp, he picked up speed then zipped into the air with some pretty impressive hang time, if he said so himself.

He landed the jump with relative ease, but had to swerve as soon as he landed to avoid colliding with a snow-covered boulder.

“Too close,” he said once he’d cleared it, letting out a small sigh of relief. When he looked back, wondering why on earth there was a course with that kind of monstrosity lying in wait, he noticed the snow surrounding the boulder seemed to be covered in large splinters of something.

He quickly felt the rush of accomplishment and threw his hands up victoriously, knowing he had bested an obstacle that might have claimed many. He raised his arms to shout in delight, but stopped himself when something up ahead caught his eye.

Someone was limping through the snow. Each time they lifted their left foot, Krel noticed the ski on that side was much shorter. He wondered if those splinters surrounding the boulder had anything to do with it.

Painfully aware of how fragile humans were, Krel felt compelled to check on this particular one in need. He slowed to a stop beside them then pulled down his mask to talk.

“Are you alright?” he asked, then caught the way they seemed to freeze up at his intervention. Perhaps they did not want helping.

He started to turn, readying himself to set off, but the person lifted their goggles and lowered their mask.

“I crashed. Think I twisted my knee.”

The airy, embarrassed laugh caught him off-guard, but no more so than the fact he recognised the face it came from.

“Tiësto Girl…? Great Gaylen, this planet really is small.”

She looked confused for a second, then realisation dawned on her.

“The guy from the lobby.”

“You remember me.” Krel said in delight. Then he pondered her earlier statement. “Will your knee untwist?”

A short pause followed. Unbeknownst to Krel, it was while the girl debated whether he was trying to make a joke or not.

“Well. Yes. Sort of? Um. You couldn’t do me a favour?”

He cocked an eyebrow curiously.

“I assure you I probably could.”

Another pause.

“Um… okay. Anyway. Can you go on ahead and radio for assistance?”

Krel blinked. He wondered if that sentence was supposed to make sense to him. He was, of course, willing to help, but where was he heading to and who was he calling?

“Uhh…”

“There’s an emergency shack every quarter mile. Didn’t you read the safety pack at the lodge?”

Krel had not planned to leave the comfort of his room today. Reading a human safety manual had not been up there on his priority list.

That being said, he didn’t want to look like a fool.

“Got it.” He lied. He turned to go, but paused a moment to double-check on her. “Will you be alright?”

She nodded.

“I’ll manage. Hopefully the rescue team’ll show up before I get there. Thanks, by the way. Four people passed by me before you stopped to help. Either they didn’t see me, or ignored me.”

This girl was in a neon pink-and-yellow puffer-jacket. Krel couldn’t imagine anyone was blind enough to miss her.

Feeling compelled to be of use, Krel set off down the mountain in search of this so-called shack. He wasn’t entirely sure what a shack was, but was sure he would know once he saw it.

Sure enough, as he zipped down the snowy mountain, it wasn’t long before he came across a small, log house just off to the side of the ski course. Judging by the antenna poking up from its roof, this was the place because there was a radio inside.

Krel slid to a halt at the edge of the track, then pulled himself from the groomed snow and onto rougher, uneven terrain, with his sticks. After a few wobbly manoeuvres, he discovered it was easier – although by no means easy—to walk his way to the cabin, lifting his skis in large, unbalanced steps.

Once he was at the front door, he unclasped his ski boots then went inside, propping his skis and sticks up just inside the door. The room inside was small, but seemed fit for purpose. There was a desk, a chair, a worn-out bed, some cupboards, and a hearth that looked like it hadn’t seen the flicker of a fire in a long time. Most importantly, though, was the radio sitting atop the desk.

“Excellent.” Krel said triumphantly, then studied the device for a moment, chuckling at such a primitive piece of technology. Still, he supposed it could do the job in a pinch.

Removing his goggles, his mask, and his hat, Krel sat himself in the chair then put the radio headphones over his ears and reached for the mic. Thankfully when it came to technology, he was very good at figuring out how to use new equipment on the first try. He pressed a button on the mic’s base then leaned in to speak.

“…Hello?”

He released the button and waited. He was about to try again when a crackly, static voice replied through the radio’s speaker.

“Reading you Cabin Twelve. This is Base Camp. How can we help? Over.”

“Ah- right. Yes. This is, presumably, Cabin Twelve. A girl is on her way and requires you to untwist her knee.”

The pause before the reply was unhelpful.

“…Do you need a rescue team? Over.”

“Yes. She wants to meet you at the cabin. She…”

Krel’s words tapered off as the cabin became bathed in a murky, grey light. He looked up from the radio, only to see that heavy snow had started to fall outside. His finger remained pressed on the communication button as surprise hit him. When he remembered to remove it, the reply through the speaker was mostly scatchy static with a few disjointed words.

“… wait… she… don’t…”

Krel frowned. Human technology at its finest, again. A little bit of bad weather and everything came to a standstill. Although, he had to admit as he listen to the sudden wind whipping against the side of the shack, this change in weather was particularly unexpected.

He spoke into the microphone as his view of outside became increasingly blurred by snowflakes.

“I recommend you hurry.”

As Krel continued watching the snow growing heavier, he suddenly saw a neon pink blob appear in the hazy distance beyond the window. Rushing to his feet, he only thought to throw on his skiing goggles before heading out to help the girl towards the cabin. He was very aware that unlike him, her body was susceptible to the cold and that the ever strengthening wind would only make things worse, especially when she could only walk as fast as her bad leg and broken ski.

As his feet came into contact with the snow, he sank down a little with each step he took. It stalled him slightly, but he managed to greet the girl just as she came off the course, onto the bumpier, ungroomed terrain.

“Base camp should be on their way.” He said in greeting, though found he had to shout to hear his own voice over the wind.

“What?” She shouted back.

Realising that talking was futile, Krel chose instead to take her arm and hook it over his shoulder to support her as she pushed her skis towards the shack. Thankfully, though he was in his human form, his strength was still that of an Akiridion. Even at her slow pace, it wouldn’t be long before they were both out of the bad weather.

As the wind and snow whipped up around them, the girl leaned herself towards him, her voice coming through as a dampened shout,

“Where did this blizzard come from?”

Truthfully, he did not know either. Earth weather was unpredictable at the best of times, but this seemed excessive.

As they made their way closer to the cabin, Krel suddenly heard a crackling sound that drew his attention. It was a fizzle in the air, like static. The hairs rose up along his exposed neck. He instinctively looked back towards the mountain, only to witness a bright flash of lighting, followed by a thunderous boom that rattled the trees and caused both of them to stumble. Krel’s eyes grew wide.

“What was that?” Asked the girl, regaining her footing after cursing like a sailor from the pain of putting pressure on her bad leg. But Krel did not hear her. Not because of the wind. But because every fiber of his being was now focused on watching the powdered snow picking up speed as it raced towards them down the mountainside.

Krel didn’t need to know what an avalanche was to know that anything hurtling towards him at that speed and ferocity was not something he wanted to be caught by.

He turned and began dragging the girl by her shoulders, forcing her past any speed that could be comfortable in an effort to get her to safety.

“Go, go, go, go!”

He shouted over the storm, unable to keep his gaze in one direction when he needed to look at both the distance to the shack, and the ever-gaining maelstrom behind them. It was so much harder to walk as the earth trembled, as the avalanche gained footing. He felt the pressure shifting. They were only meters from the shack but he knew they wouldn’t make it. Everything around them quaked as the rumbling turned thunderous, then the path ahead turned dark as the avalanche’s shadow overtook them.

Knowing he had no other option, Krel used all his Akiridion strength to push the girl the last distance towards the cabin with a forceful jolt, then turned and brandished his serrator.

“Run!”

He unleashed a shield, giving her just long enough to get to her feet and wrench the cabin door open, before the overwhelming pressure of the snowy landslide knocked his serrator from his grip, leaving him defenceless. The girl turned just in time to see him disappear beneath the avalanche’s onslaught before she had to force the door closed to save herself.

What followed was a few agonising minutes of pain, stress and screaming as she backed up and pressed her whole body against the door, begging it to hold as the entire cabin groaned and creaked under the pressure.  She begged it to hold. She begged it. Snow sputtered down the chimney, telling her that the shack was being submerged. She held still, hissing and cursing with even her bad leg jammed tight against the door.

Then, finally, the creaking subsided for the most part. Everything turned still. She listened. She couldn’t hear the avalanche, or even the wind. With her heart hammering in her ears, she pulled away from the door slowly, then when it did not cave in, she turned and wrenched it wide. Only a wall of powder-white snow greeted her.

------

Mineta cackled, like he was determined to tempt fate. “Have a little faith. We’re only in trouble if the car breaks down.”

Shoji shook his head, patting the steering wheel affectionately.

“She’s managed 300 miles. The last thirty won’t kill her.”

Shoji’s worn-down 1998 Lexus LS was his pride and joy, and the unfortunate vessel in which they had decided to travel. It spluttered and popped, and the suspension was shot, but Shoji was adamant it could manage the 600-mile round trip. His friends had their reservations, but as Shoji was the only licenced driver of the group, there was very little other choice.

Some fifteen minutes down the road from where Ojiro had told them to watch for an outpost, the small hut finally came into view, much to everyone’s relief. It was their first and only indication that they were headed the right way.

“Right. Quick in and out. Shoji and me will buy the essentials.” Ojiro said, doing his best to fold the map back into a neat square as Shoji slowed down to pull into the layby. Mineta chuckled, playfully shoving Tokoyami’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been fishing.”

“And yet, I haven’t,” Tokoyami said, amused that anyone could doubt his lack of experience. It was difficult for him to imagine himself in fishing slacks, almost as much as imagining himself in a rainbow-coloured clown suit. Fishing certainly wasn’t his first choice of hobby, but for the sake of spending time with his friends he was willing to take up a lure and rod, and see what monstrosities he could unearth from the deep.

Once they were parked, the four boys stumbled from the car then took a moment to stretch out their bodies, as none had noticed until now how stiff they had gotten.

“Get a new car. Get a new car.” Mineta begged, rubbing his spine. Shoji tutted good-naturedly, stretching his arms high above his head. He splayed them out until the sunlight filtered through the wing-like membrane holding them together.

“Don’t fix something that isn’t broken.”

“My man, I doubt even a junkyard would want it for spare parts.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her.”

“My back disagrees.”

As Mineta and Shoji continued their debate on the state of Shoji’s car, the four boys headed inside.

The hut, although an outpost, was reasonably sized with two aisles of shelves, stocked with hiking and fishing equipment, and other camping essentials. While the others began to browse, Tokoyami went straight to the back wall, which was adorned with rows of fishing rods.

He looked at them for some time.

Eventually, he came to conclusion that if there was any significant difference between them, he could not see it. His choice was based purely from aesthetics, and that’s why he chose a rod that was black in colour with purple trim – a fishing rod fit for a prince of darkness, if ever there was one.

In the same amount of time, Ojiro and Mineta gathered bait, lures, hooks and spare fishing lines, then set them all on the counter to pay.

The old man behind the desk rang up their order, chuckling as he surveyed their supplies.

“You boys be aiming for this year’s Big Whopper prize, I take it?”

“Big Whopper prize?” Mineta asked, his eyes lighting up as he pulled out his wallet to pay. “What’s that?”

The man laughed louder, gathering the bits together to put them in a bag.

“Blimey. All this equipment and y’ner doin’ the Whopper.” He turned and tapped a faded poster on the wall behind him. “Biggest catch of the season gets a cash prize.”

Mineta’s eyes lit up even more.

“You’re kidding?” He turned to the others. “We’re in, right?”

Tokoyami observed his brand-new fishing rod as it went through the register, then Mineta’s eager expression.

“Perhaps I’ll leave that to you. Beginner’s luck does not often favour me.”

Mineta shrugged then turned to Ojiro and Shoji.

“How about you guys?”

Though Shoji nodded, Ojiro asked,

“Sounds fun, but doesn’t that mean we’d have to camp around the busy lakes where they have the biggest fish?”

He didn’t sound best pleased at the thought of spending their camping trip in a noisy, crowded area. Shoji asked the hut-owner,

“Can you recommend any spots that aren’t too busy?”

The hut-owner tapped his finger to his chin thoughtfully, then reached under the counter for a map of the National Park.

“Aren’t many spots quiet this time of year, especially if you’re after the prize. Stay away from here,” he said, pointing to the second largest body of water on the map. “It’ll be swarming with fish but swarming with people too. Best fishing spot on the map. If you don’t mind a smaller catch, you could try here or here,” he said, tapping on two smaller, secluded lakes. Shoji leaned over the counter, curiously drifting his gaze across the map as the man continued to recommend places. The hut-owner tapped a large pond in a definitive way.

“This here’s your best bet. Great for catching supper, and it’s been known to host some big game since it’s forgotten about most a’ the year. Might only find a handful of other people there.”

“Sounds perfect.” Mineta and Ojiro agreed, but Shoji looked closer at the map. He pointed to the pond, then to the body of water next to it – the largest lake on the map.

“Won’t a lot of noise drift over from the main lake?”

The man chuckled, slapping his palm on the counter enough to make everyone jump.

“You must be joking? No one goes to that lake. It’s called the Dead Lake for a reason. If you want to catch any fish at all, stay away from there.”

That seemed unusually ominous. Tokoyami perked up.

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“No one’s caught a note-worthy fish from that lake in over fifteen years. Many have tried. None succeeded.” He tapped the map again. “Though I suppose if you fellas are looking for a quiet place to camp, the Dead Lake might be the ideal spot. Set up along this side here, and it’s only a ten minute walk to the fishing pond. You’ll get the quiet beauty of the undisturbed Dead Lake, and enough fish for supper from the pond. A win-win.”

A win-win indeed. The boys paid for their equipment, thanked the hut-owner for his advice then decided to follow his suggestion. They loaded everything into Shoji’s rickety old car then set off through the National Park towards Dead Lake.

Sometime later, the road ended in a small carpark almost full to bursting with vehicles, so they loaded themselves up with all they could carry, Shoji carrying the lion’s share in his numerous arms, then walked the rest of the way to Dead Lake.

With Tokoyami navigating through map and compass, and the boys chattering about plans for the evening, it didn’t feel nearly as long as it was to reach the edge of the Dead Lake.

“Whoa,” Mineta commented breathlessly as they breached the edge of the trees, coming face-to-face with a scene straight from a postcard. An endless expanse of clear, green-blue waters lay before them, surrounded on all sides by evergreens and grass-covered bankings. Sunlight filtered down from above, creeping between the peaks of the park’s mountain-range, basking the whole lake in warmth.

Collectively, the four boys sighed at once, letting go of their equipment so they could reach out their arms to enjoy such a welcoming, peaceful atmosphere. A gentle breeze tickled their skin, bringing nothing but a refreshing taste of their long weekend to come. If the lakes around the rest of the park were busy with people, the noise did not reach here. It was a haven of birdsong and the tranquil rustling of leaves.

“I shall certainly get used to this,” Tokoyami mused as the feathers over his face ruffled approvingly from the warmth.

“What a find.”

Ojiro could hardly believe it. As far as his eyes could see, there wasn’t a single soul around the edge of the lake but them. Perhaps it wouldn’t last, but for now this peaceful haven was theirs alone. It was the perfect place for them to reconnect after months of living busy, separate lives.

While the sun was still high, the four made quick work of setting up camp, two pitching the tents as the others gathered dry wood for a fire. For the duration of the stay, Shoji would be designated camp chef. He enjoyed the chance to cook for his friends after so long, and as soon as the sun began to set, he lit the fire then prepared the meals they had brought for the first night – though Tokoyami held some of his back, doubting he would catch anything to eat tomorrow when he had absolutely no fishing experience.

“You'll be fine,” Shoji said, stirring a pot of curry as the others sat around him on logs, looking up at a sunset unmarred by light pollution. “I'm sure between four of us, we'll catch enough tomorrow to keep us fed.”

“Not if what that gentleman said about the lake is true.” Tokoyami muttered, taking his gaze from the sky to look along the expanse of the Dead Lake. “Perhaps we'll all starve.”

“Don’t you fret, my fine feathered friend,” Mineta declared, mimicking the action of casting his fishing rod. “I’ll go to the pond to catch us enough to eat.”

“And we’ll stay here. Me and Shoji can teach you the basics.” Ojiro added helpfully, smiling when Tokoyami's beak clattered to show his approval.

------