Notes: I wrote this for my friend Ro (who did the lovely cover image! Too bad FFN makes it so small!) who requested "Fudou, Genda, and Sakuma at McDonald's at 3am". It went on AO3 in early April, and now that I have some time (aka while watching my fave show) I'm bringing it over to FFN. AO3 does have my latest stuff quickest though :)

Please note, this is set after my fic Renegade (which is about Fudou between Shin Teikoku and Inazuma Japan). It contains a few semi-original characters from Renegade, so it's probably better to read that first.

Peripeties

The clicking of mashing controller buttons reverberated. Triumphant grunts and indignant swearing punctuated the cacophony. On the TV screen, one figure launched the other mid-air, then leaped up and hammered him with a 20-hit combo.

It was late.

Earlier, that afternoon, Teikoku High had taken the district championship and secured their place in the Inter-Highs. The whole team had gone for a monjayaki dinner to celebrate. And after that? Fudou had persuaded Sakuma and Genda to come over for video games.

Fudou had fully demonstrated his supremacy over them in Samurai Warriors. Undaunted, Sakuma had challenged him to Project Diva (after laughing at him for owning it in the first place, of course). And then they'd gone a few rounds at FIFA. And now, Street Fighter. Hours had passed. The last train had gone long ago. Buses no longer ran to where either Genda or Sakuma lived, and neither of them had enough money for a taxi.

They had no way of getting home. But, more importantly than all of that… they were starving.

Unfortunately, Fudou lived near Teikoku, A.K.A., not central Tokyo. There were a few restaurants around, beef bowls, ramen, and the like, but at this hour they were all closed. As the host, Fudou had reluctantly offered them some of his instant ramen, but Sakuma had rebuffed it immediately. Wax and MSG, apparently.

"Go to the convenience store if you're so hungry then," Fudou griped. He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice. "There's gotta be something still there that you can eat. Like, melon-pan. Or a rice ball. That's healthy enough, right?"

"I'm not eating convenience store food," Sakuma said and sniffed. "It's full of additives! Where can we get some real food here?"

"Go home then! I bet you've actually got some more money stashed inside your sneakers or something. Your parents are probably worried about you."

"Ha! Joke's on you, my parents are on holiday. They even took the cat. They won't care if I stay over. And I really don't have the money."

Exasperated, Fudou turned to Genda, who shrugged. "I told my parents I'd be out late," he informed Fudou, deadpan. "I said I'd be staying with a friend. Wasn't expecting it to be this one, though."

So, the both of them had already decided they'd be sleeping over at his place. God damn if they weren't the most annoyingly presumptuous guests he had ever had. (Though that wasn't hard, since they were the first.)

"Look, host," Sakuma said, folding his arms. (All the better to feel the grumbling of his stomach.) "It's 2am and we need food. Any suggestions?"

Revealing his secret snack stash was starting to look like a sacrifice he was willing to make. "I also have Hello Panda chocolate."

"Enough with the jokes, Fudou," Genda interrupted. There was a rare edge to his voice that only surfaced when he was hungry. "We need real food. Besides, Koala's March is better."

Yeah, if you had no taste buds! Fudou was starting to lose his patience. Idly, he wondered if he could throw them both out. But he was hungry, too…

"Well," he said, as an idea occurred to him, "what about Mac? There's one about twenty minutes' walk away." Surely this would be good enough for even someone as prissy as Sakuma, right?

"Mac?" Sakuma blustered. ("McDonald's," Genda said helpfully.) "I know that! How are you so sure it's open?" This was directed back at Fudou.

"It's 24 hours. They're all 24 hours in Tokyo."

"You sure?" Sakuma said suspiciously. "It's pretty far away. I don't want to walk all that way just to find out it's closed."

"It won't be," Fudou snapped, then turned away. "I just know, okay?"

He could feel Sakuma and Genda's stares on his back.

Fudou rolled his eyes and started to pull a jacket on. "I've never met a bunch of whiners as needy as you," he said. "I'm getting a Chicken Crisp. You coming or not?"

Genda fell into step behind him. "I'm feeling a Filet-O-Fish. C'mon, Sakuma."

Half an hour of Sakuma's griping later, the luminous yellow M sign finally came into view. Sakuma immediately stopped talking and the three boys quickened their pace, moving as one. The way they slipped through the automatic sliding doors could only be described as lithe. They were a lean, mean, hungry machine. The McDonald's floor was just another football pitch.

They had their burgers within a few minutes, and some fries to share. Genda had impulse-topped it all off with a 15-piece set of chicken nuggets for the group, although he had already inhaled one the moment they collected it from the counter.

"Finally, you've stopped talking," Fudou said good-naturedly as they found a booth table. "Bet you were scared walking here, weren't you? Bet it's your first time out this late!"

"Shut up," Sakuma said, though it was without heat. They had their food now, after all. "It's late! All sorts of people could be prowling around. Didn't you watch the news the other day?"

"We'll take care of you, Sakuma-kun." Fudou smirked and popped a fry into his mouth. "If anything happens, just run to the friendly neighbourhood patrolman and-"

A shadow fell across their table, and he stopped talking. The three of them turned to look at the source, but Fudou was quickest. His gaze hardened and his lips drew thin. He swallowed the rest of his potato fry.

"Well, if it isn't Fudou! Doing a late-night Mac run? Sure takes me back!"

A skinny, tall boy around their age leered at them. His long hair, bleached straw blond, fell over his sunken cheeks, and dark rings surrounded his thin, bloodshot eyes. His pale skin stretched over bone. It was hard to tell from their seated position, but he looked to be taller than even Genda.

Fudou reached for a chicken nugget. Without dipping it into the sauce (Genda had chosen BBQ), he took a bite. He gazed coolly at the newcomer, but, to Sakuma and Genda's surprise, said nothing.

The boy grinned, then shot his hand out towards Sakuma. It stopped an arm's length away from his burger. Fudou felt the cushion shift as Sakuma tensed, but at least his sudden nervousness was only obvious to people who knew him.

"Is that a Shrimp Filet-O?" the boy cackled. "Good taste! Why, Fudou, you're hanging 'round the high-rollers now!"

Fudou put his half-eaten chicken nugget down and wiped his thumb, index, and middle finger with a napkin, one-by-one. His eyes narrowed. He tilted his chin up to look at the newcomer directly and shifted his stance towards him, bringing one foot up and leaning back into the corner of the booth.

"Well," he finally said, drawing the word out into a long drawl. "Takan. What the fuck are you doing here?"

Takan was unruffled. "Can't say I expected to see you again. Or wanted to," he spat out. Alive, was the omitted word that only the two of them heard and understood.

"Likewise." Fudou sneered at him.

Takan sneered back. "You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself."

Fudou's lip curled. His tone was blunt. "You're not."

Somehow, the skin around Takan's lips tightened even more. "Not keeping this civil, are we? I don't want no trouble. And I'm sure you don't either. Oh, yeah," and he paused then, his smirk widening into a malicious grin. "Congrats. On your match today."

The threat was obvious. Fudou bristled. He could feel Genda looking at him, hear the silent platitudes to keep his composure. Of course he would. He'd stay calm. As if he'd let himself get worked up over this fucker!

"It's been so long," Takan continued, lips twitching. He reached out and his fingers closed around a chicken nugget. "Treat me one of these, will ya? But geez, BBQ sauce fucking sucks, why didn't you get sweet and sour-"

Fudou exploded to his feet and slammed his palms onto the table. Even Sakuma was spooked and flinched away from him, but he recovered quickly, standing up too and saying, or more exclaiming, really, "Fudou!"

"Calm down." Genda was the only one left sitting now. He turned to Takan. "You're right. None of us want trouble. So why don't you leave us to our food?"

Fudou felt like they were talking about somebody else. Unbidden, rising from the depths of his mind, was a reel of images. Flickering, static. Blurry, focused. From that time. From the alleyway. The chase. The car alarm. It had been years.

Takan grinned. Under the bright fast food restaurant lighting, the shadows cast on his face made him look like a laughing corpse.

"You've become pretty uptight. Not like the Fudou I remember. Then again, they wouldn't have taken you in if you were still like before, eh? Sellout!"

"Who're you to talk to Fudou like that!" Sakuma fired back. "You got nothing better to do than harass hungry guys and steal their food?"

They had both raised their volume. Vaguely, Fudou was aware of conversations around them petering out like a flame, and more and more eyes turning in their direction, but he could only see Takan in the narrow strip in front of him.

Takan, and, behind him…

He was hiding behind the box again. It was bright as the sun, but Fudou's feet tingled. Takan started to laugh, and unless Fudou concentrated very hard he would swear that Takan's spindly fingers were curled around a permanent marker. How dare he? How dare he!

Fudou's world narrowed further. He took a step forward, one fist already raised into the air- and then could advance no more.

A large hand had closed around his shoulder, and it squeezed.

"Get out," someone said, low and furious, into his ear. He was pulled back, turned away from Takan. They repeated the phrase again, this time directing it behind Fudou. "We're leaving. C'mon!"

Something - or someone - bumped into him, and in a flash, Fudou was back at McDonald's. Takan was yelling something, probably crowing about how they were too chicken to face him, and Fudou turned to answer his challenge.

He came face to face with Sakuma glowering at him and didn't go any further. Behind Sakuma, and the last thing Fudou saw before he was pulled out of the restaurant, was a beautiful girl in school uniform. Her face was full of make-up and her hair cut into a stylish, yet garishly dyed bob. From behind the walls of another booth, she was looking intently at him.

Fudou let himself be led along the path for a bit. He focused only on the rise and fall of Genda's shoulders. Gradually, his hammering heart quietened.

True to form, Sakuma was keeping up a steady stream of complaints. The ones Fudou managed to register went along the lines of, we should've shown that punk who was boss for daring to mess with us like that, we should've got the store manager to intervene, what about the waste of all that food-

The food was collateral damage, Genda had firmly responded. It was for the greater good that we got out of there, and not just for Fudou. (Talk about me in front of me more, why don't you, Fudou thought and chuckled.)

Genda stopped abruptly and turned to them. Fudou almost walked into him, but managed to stop as well.

"It wasn't just because of Fudou," Genda repeated lowly. "It was for yours, too, Sakuma. And me. And the rest of our school."

He gestured down at their uniforms.

"Green and red? Everyone around here knows what that means. We're known. People might give us some leeway today, but we have a reputation to uphold. We are Teikoku!"

Illuminated by a streetlamp, Sakuma's face was pink and furious. But he nodded. He hadn't spent the past five years at Teikoku for nothing. On a visceral level, he knew what Genda was saying. Even if they weren't the ones to instigate trouble, once it found them, it would only hurt them more to get involved.

They started to walk again, slowing when they reached a park and a playground that was modestly outfitted with a slide, a swing set, a jungle gym, and some spring riders. Fudou hadn't been on a swing since he was a little boy, and for a second he was tempted, but the desire evaporated at the next moment. Instead, he draped himself over the steel pony, fingers brushing over the chipped paint. Perhaps sensing the mood, Sakuma and Genda awkwardly made themselves comfortable, Sakuma sitting and hooking his legs through the slide ladder and Genda leaning against the jungle gym with crossed arms.

"What was that?" After a minute, Sakuma finally broke the silence.

Fudou didn't turn to face him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"C'mon, give us a bit of an idea at least. So I know how hard to punch him if we see him again."

Fudou snorted. As if Sakuma would ever be that fierce. "You won't."

"So, you know him from before?"

For a moment, Fudou was speechless that Sakuma was being so audacious. Then he recovered. "Yeah, I knew him."

"He your childhood friend or something?"

"No, that's not me, that's…" Fudou trailed off as he realised that the two didn't really know Cap anyway. Not nearly well enough for that. "No, I met him in middle school."

"Fudou," Genda said, voice low. "Is he… is he one of the guys that…"

Fudou could dance around the issue. He had spent the past few years denying that aspect of his past, after all. Pretending it had never happened. Doing all he could to move past it.

But he was so very tired.

He thought back to the day of the Teikoku-Mikage Sennou exhibition match, back before he had joined Teikoku. Back when Sakuma and Genda had been standing against him instead of with him, practically a whole lifetime ago. They had all been so different.

"He's the one," Fudou said, casting his gaze up towards the glittering sky, "who brought everyone the drugs."

Sakuma leaned forward. "What can we do?" Just that. No more pesky questions about before.

Fudou laughed. It was short and left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Do? What is there to do?"

"I mean, is he still taking them? Or selling them? Should we call the police?"

"No," Fudou said immediately, and if Sakuma and Genda were confused at his sudden vehemence, they didn't show it. "We've no proof. What's even the point?"

"But-" Sakuma protested. Fudou turned to him then, and whatever words had been at the tip of Sakuma's tongue died out. Was his expression really that terrible?

"I mean it," Fudou said quietly. "Don't even think about it. I don't want to spend any more of my life on him. What is he and what are we?"

Sakuma's face was sullen, but he nodded. "Will you go get help?"

"Maybe."

Fudou had honestly not expected to have such a bad reaction to seeing Takan again. If he could avoid it next time… if, on the off chance that his plans to avoid even having a next time failed…

"My parents might know someone," Sakuma said out to the park. "I could. I mean. Ask them for you. Not mentioning your name, obviously."

"I don't want to think about this just right now," Fudou said, and Sakuma nodded. This time he said no more.

The three boys stayed there. They soaked up the air and watched Fudou watch the sky.

A shooting star burned across. And then another. Sakuma's breathy, appreciative gasp cut off as a whole stream came at once, spearing through their vision. They looked, Sakuma suddenly thought, almost like silver tears streaking down the dark sky.

It was almost dawn.

Even in their uniforms, it was chilly. They were still hungry. And none of them were looking forward to the walk back to the apartment.

But they were also district champions. Since last year's loss, they had trained harder than they'd known they could, and had received their prize. Their next challenge was just beginning.

And, for now, that was enough.

Notes: Even though Renegade ended happily, of course there will be long-reaching consequences to what Fudou did and experienced. But in the end, you just have to keep moving forward.

By the way, the title refers, of course, to Fudou, and a certain other character...

Thank you for reading!