Milestones

Part One: Wedding Day

Springtime in Tokyo made the rest of the year worth suffering through, Kamui thought as the stray sakura petals swirled around his feet. None of the other seasons had much to recommend them; the summer humidity crushed the life out of you, autumn had passed into winter before you even knew it was gone. And winter... especially last winter...

Well, December to February was just too damn cold.

A sigh of wind through tree boughs sent a shower of pink down on his head; despite all the painful associations with the flowers, Kamui didn't have the heart to dislike them. They reminded him of Kotori, or of his mother and aunt, delicate and ephemeral. You didn't miss the sakura once they had all bloomed and their petals floated away. You remembered the admiration and wonder you felt as you waited to see them again.

A year ago, he wouldn't have thought that way. A hand drew through dusty brown, almost too-long hair and sent more petals tumbling to his shoulders. Some wound up stuck in the folds of the black suit jacket he had slung over one shoulder. Maybe he'd keep them there, and in another year or so when he dug out his suit the fabric would smell like sakura. Today had been a day worth remembering, all things considered.

He came to an intersection and turned left; his feet followed a familiar path through a mostly intact section of the Ward. Another few trips and he would have the route memorized, right down to the last crack in the pavement and chunk of concrete sticking up from the sidewalk. But for now, he still had to look down every so often to keep from falling on his face. They didn't have many trees or bushes along this street anymore; maybe they had last year, but he'd probably never know for sure. Unlike many areas of Tokyo, the high-rise apartments still stood, though somewhat worse for wear. Cutting through an empty parking lot brought him to the tallest on the block and he squinted up toward the top floor. He could still pinball up between buildings and get where he was going in a heartbeat, but using his powers so openly really wasn't much fun anymore.

His steps echoed through the concrete stairwell as he passed the third floor, then the fourth, eighth and twelfth, all the way up to the twentieth floor. Kamui loosened his tie a little more as he stopped to catch his breath; a stray wind played through his hair, sending a welcome chill along the back of his neck. Another pass of his hand through his hair made it almost presentable as he walked down the open hall to the apartment at the very end. He rang the bell and leaned against the railing to wait. He didn't really need to use the doorbell, but he always did it anyway. Some leftover politeness that found its way into the person he'd become.

A moment later, the clang of the metal door opening echoed along the concrete walls. Kamui caught the handle and pulled it further open, grinning slightly at the tug of resistance before letting the knob go and stepping around the door and into the apartment. Fuuma snorted and shook his head as he let the door fall closed. "Don't we look nice today."

Kamui grinned cheekily up at him, a full showing of teeth. "Thanks." He turned to fold his suit jacket up, and retrieved the three or four petals that fell from under the lapel; he tucked them back into the fabric and turned back just in time to see Fuuma reach for him. For less than a heartbeat, Kamui paused, tensing, then his grin eased into a softer, smaller but more natural smile as careful fingers plucked another pair of sakura petals out of his hair.

"Are there any of these left on the tree?" Fuuma asked, giving him a long, considering look that didn't exactly match his question.

The younger teen met his gaze and held it for a moment, tilting his chin up slightly. Kamui looked away first and stretched his arms high up over his head and stretched, then let his hands fall behind his head as he toed off his very shiny and grown-up looking dress shoes. "You have any of those coffees left?" He stepped up into the apartment proper heading toward the window as he always did, so he could admire the view. The Tokyo skyline looked very different now, but the upside to that was that the sky could now be seen in many places where it had been blotted out by sky-scraping offices and department stores. Someone told him that Tokyo Tower was now the tallest building in the city; Fuuma's apartment faced in the opposite direction, and Kamui was glad for it.

Far in the distance some pebble-sized boats floated in the bay, cutting into the waves that sparkled with the late afternoon sun. Kamui leaned forward until his forehead touched the glass, closing his eyes. Behind him, he heard the fridge door open and close and then the soft, steady footsteps as Fuuma approached. Though he fully expected the cold can against the back of his neck, he still hissed and ducked when it came. "Fuuma."

The other laughed and gave him a playful shove toward the couch, letting him snatch the coffee can away before he flopped unceremoniously down, taking up most of the sitting space. Fuuma dropped onto the floor beside the couch and Kamui couldn't help but watch. Somewhere along the line Fuuma had acquired a catlike way of moving; all long limbs and a straight, strong back. Even the clumsiest gestures seemed to flow as if he'd planned them. Kamui had never thought of his friend as graceful, but in reality, he'd never really thought of Fuuma moving beyond his childhood memories. A mistake he both regretted and took a secret pleasure in, as every visit brought some new insight.

"So," Fuuma began as he unscrewed the cap to his water bottle. "What's the occasion? I thought you and ties were mortal enemies."

Kamui snorted, then smiled sadly as he looked up at the shadows moving on the ceiling. "I came from Arashi's wedding reception."

"Kishuu got married?"

A thin shoulder shrugged. "She kind of had to; the baby doesn't give her much of a choice."

"True."

"I'm not sure Sorata would have approved of the guy." Kamui chuckled as he said it, thinking of the young man who was quieter, less impulsive and unlike the Kansai monk in just about every way. The man who smiled gently at his new bride, who agreed to raise a child not his own, knowing all the while Arashi had experienced true love in her life and he would probably always be second to that. Glancing at the back Fuuma's head, Kamui thought of the other's father. "I didn't think he was so bad."

Fuuma made a soft, thoughtful sound and Kamui wondered if their thoughts followed the same track. His fingers flexed, inches from the dark hair that rested against the back of his friend's neck, but they stayed where they were. "Arashi seemed okay though."

The other turned slightly and leaned his shoulder against the cushion. "She's made the most with what she had," he replied. "It's probably the best she could expect, given the situation."

And somewhere along the line, Fuuma had lost the ability to read Kamui's mind. Violet eyes wandered back up toward the ceiling. "Mm." He let the conversation stall, his thoughts meandering down a haphazard path. Eventually, Kamui propped himself up on his elbows and carefully opened his can of coffee. "I saw Yuzuriha there, and Kusanagi-san." A bemused smile crossed his lips. "They've gotten pretty close."

A shiver ran up his spine as Fuuma chuckled, the sound still rich as ever, but no longer out to make his hair stand on end. "I wondered how those two would end up." The older teen shifted, resting his arm on the couch.

"I think she was more excited than the bride was." Kamui took long drink of coffee and then lay back down, turning onto one side and folding one arm under his head. He gave Fuuma a half smile. "Strange couple, but I don't think they care." Another silence fell as another chuckle faded out. Kamui had no more gossip to relay from the reception; there wasn't anyone else there his friend would know, let alone care about. There wasn't anyone else he knew. Fuuma's face blurred in front of him as he let his eyes unfocus and mind wander. Karen would have loved to see the youngest Seal all dressed up in her pink and gold formal kimono, maiden's sleeves swinging inelegantly with the force of their wearer's excitement. Aoki might have brought his family and they would've all finally gotten to meet the daughter he talked so much about.

So many "would haves" or "might haves" or "should haves". All things he tried not to dwell on, especially here, when he had already wasted so much time living in the past.

His eyes readjusted suddenly, then fell half closed as a hand threaded through his hair, combing away the sad thoughts as easily as they had taken out the sakura petals earlier. Kamui's lips pulled up with a hint of a smile, and he wondered just how miserable he had looked just a moment ago.

"Your hair's getting long," Fuuma mused, looking his head over with a fond expression.

He got a halfhearted grunt in reply. "Mph. Should probably get it cut."

"Might not be a bad idea." A slight tug as Fuuma curled a lock around his finger, and Kamui damn near purred like a pleased kitten. "Keep you from looking anymore girly than you already do."

Kamui snorted derisively, then grinned. "Bastard."

He received a smirk in return. "Always," Fuuma replied. And it was true. Or, at least, now it was true. The last year had taken them both apart, mixed their pasts and presents, and gave them glue with a parting "knock yourselves out." The result of making something out of the stray pieces had taken some getting used to. And, perhaps, still did. What hadn't changed still didn't come out exactly the same as it had been going in.

But here they were, together in the half-dark of a small apartment in a not-quite-ruined part of Tokyo.

"I'm still wondering why you stopped over here, instead of going home."

Kamui shifted and stretched, avoiding an answer as long as possible, until it became clear he couldn't wipe the shy smile off his face. He settled for turning his gaze toward the floor. "The atmosphere was kind of contagious." He coughed, glad the growing darkness hid the fact that his face had suddenly gotten hot. "Plus, I was the only single guy in the fucking place. Didn't want to be the fifteenth wheel."

Fuuma stayed quiet for a handful of heartbeats, then laughed softly. He said nothing, just leaned his head back to rest it against Kamui's side.

Kamui decided he liked it there.