#thispair

NOTE: Set in blind!Mumen verse.

***

He gets home late, scarf tips soaked by the rain, mood akin to the darkening clouds heralding that the newscaster perhaps was optimistic at 15% chance of showers tomorrow. Meetings aren’t his forte, particularly at HQ, particularly when there’s still a new Christmas blanket to be properly broken in. By the time he’s finished finding every puddle between the bus station and home the street lights have long since been on and their apartment building is lit up like a half-working string of holiday lights. Never has he been more thankful for an indoor stairwell, particularly as the minute he’s in the floodgates open and Sea King-esque rains replenish already drying sidewalks.

Their apartment is one of the lit up squares of light, fourth floor, nice balcony, even better view. He knocks (one, twothree - just in case) before unlocking the door and letting himself in.

Mumen is indeed home, as is Zenko, voices flitting in from the living room. “Not quite, try that one again.”

“Su?”

“Almost. Here, feel that? There’s an extra one right there that makes this top bit a square instead of a line. It’s ‘se’ now.”

“Then what’s this word?”

Call him a sap, a romantic, a fucking disgusting cliche, but if it isn’t enough to settle the thunderous mood he’s bearing then he doesn’t know what is. He’s careful to muffle his bat as it’s hung up, shoes carefully shed to the side the mat rather than recklesses toed-off and left. Micro-movements that have become etched in muscle, or almost are. He has to remember to put his coat on the left hook, not the right.

When he peeks into the living room if his toes didn’t curl then the do now. Beaten to the Christmas blanket, but he can forgive that considering who’s taken the honor of first official wrap up in it.

Mumen holds the book, stiff pages treasured and kept in immaculate care. It’s nothing more than a primer, first year, a simple story with simple words. It’s still a struggle for Zenko, however, who sits in his lap, face peeking out from the folds of the cheery red and white stripes covering her efforts like a secret.

Her hand rubs the dots on the pages. “I don’t know this one…”

“Give it a minute,” Mumen encourages. His hands don’t move. “Think about it.”

She does, lower lip disappearing into her mouth. “I don’t know, there’s an extra there...”

A smile meets that. “Is there? Where’s the extra?”

“At the end.” Zenko runs a finger over it, as if to emphasize.

“Are you sure it’s an extra?” Mumen reaches out now to follow Zenko’s fingers, middle finger tip running over the dots. “Remember what we talked about earlier, how to tell the difference between a name and a noun?”

It takes Zenko a moment, but her face lights up and a socked foot kicks the sofa with a thump. “String!”

Mumen grins. “Correct.” And then closes the book. “Now go say goodnight to Baddo before he decides to become part of the wall permanently.”

Zenko shoots out of Mumen’s lap then, blanket shed as she runs for him. His arms go out even as he dips to catch her, lifting her up so she can give a proper hug (arms around neck, tight squeeze - classic).

“Onii-chan!”

“Imouto-chan,” he greets in kind, arm shifting so he can tousle her hair. “What are you still doing up?” She’s at least in her pajamas and he can smell mint on her breath. “It’s a school night for you.”

“Mumen let me stay up until you came home.” She pulls back then to examine his face, hand going to his cheek (a habit he has no doubts to the origin of). “You’re late. You said ten.”

“Tch, wanted to be back earlier but people like to talk too much.” With a heave he sets her down. “Now get to bed, young lady. You’ve got practice tomorrow after school, yeah?”

She pouts, but it’s expected. He makes a face back and it dissolves quickly into whose face can contort into the most grotesque. Eventually he has to concede - he’s not quite able to reach both eyelids and her mouth with the inventiveness that she can - and he shoos her with both hands.

“All right, all right, bed time! Before your face freezes like that! Then what would your teacher say?”

Zenko’s already off to her room, a yawn hiding behind her hand. There’s still time to turn at the door though, “She’d ask where I got it from and I’d tell her you!”

His indignant huff draws a chuckle from Mumen, “You taught her too well.”

Mumen’s there then, blanket folded neatly over his arm, primer shut and in his hand, ear turned to track Zenko’s descent down the hall. His lips quirk, which is how Badd knows her door is shut. “I didn’t think you’d be back so late or I would have made her go to bed earlier.”

“Eh, she’d have woken up anyway.” It’s nothing worth worrying over. Particularly when it’s the kind of welcome home he’s wanted since, well... He leans in to give Mumen a kiss, unflinching when Mumen’s hand thumbs his cheek then traces his jaw. (He passes inspection this time.) “What’cha readin’?”

Mumen takes one of his hands and traces it over the bumps on the front. “Mari and the Cat.”

He knows the dots mean something, he’s tried, and on a good day he knows Mumen’s name by sight alone. But today he shakes his head. “Still not convinced you ain’t just makin’ it up as you go.”

“You’re right, it’s all sorcery.” He puffs at that, to which Mumen chuckles. “You’ll get the hang of it. If I did, you can.” Which isn’t really how Badd would put it, not at all. “We’ll try again.” When he huffs non-committally Mumen amends, “Some other time.”

The primer is set on the sofa in favor of the blanket being shaken out. He never really loses that spark of awe that Mumen knows just where all of him is in proportion to his face. Mumen tugs the ends around Badd’s shoulders until Badd takes them in his hands. “Go change your socks. Going to make a new pot.”

His feet move, suddenly conscious of socks sticking to the arches. “Peppermint?” He’s allowed to be hopeful, after that trek home.

Mumen just smiles. “You’ll have to come back to find out, won’t you?”

He clicks his tongue, “Tch. Livin’ in a house of smart asses.” To which Mumen laughs even as his fingers feel for the sofa. “Between you two it’s a wonder I get a word in.”