note: okkkk so tell me Never Let Me Go isn't such a Kazubisha song. Especially if you accept the Christian/God/Diety interpretations of it. Also wow first Noragami fic. Unsurprisingly, it is an au.
My ass if gay for Christmas fics omg I have been saving all my energy for Christmastime. I'm one of those Extra™ bitches who had my Christmas tree up since September. I have been reviving Mariah Carey's career since 4 months ago fam. I'm not fucking around when it comes to Christmas.
it's peaceful in the deep
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He didn't want to say he'd lost his purpose. Kazuma knew he was better than one half of a couple; he wasn't born to be a backdrop to a shining light or be her arm or whatever appendage was detrimental for her to function. Still, when he saw Bishamon at his door on Christmas Eve, he couldn't help but feel like life made sense all over again since she left. Toxic mentality. You had conditioned yourself to need her.
When he only continued to stare at her, Bishamon drew her heavy outer coat closer around her. "Will you let me in or do I have to drag you into my car?"
Shell-shocked but lucid enough to remember good etiquette, Kazuma stepped back to give way. "Sorry. Come inside, please."
"Thanks," Bishamon shuffled into the heat of his home, shivering just slightly at the sudden change of temperature. "You're probably wondering why I'm here."
Kazuma appreciated her straightforwardness. There'd never been any games with Bishamon. Everything was laid out flat for his perusal: every fact, every feeling, every demand. It had been up to him to follow or disappoint and often it was more of the latter. A busy woman didn't have time to wait for stragglers so he got left behind and asked to be kept there. It had always been black and white with Veena. "I'd love an explanation."
"Right," There was that beautiful half-smile on her lips; once she joked that a quirk of one side of her lips was the best she could do but Kazuma knew better. He'd seen mere potted cactus make her grin, he'd seen her laugh when the suds of a bubble bath died around his boyish body. "Well, I missed you. That's my reason."
Straightforward. Aim right for the heart each and every time. Kazuma sighed despite the chaotic drumming of his pulse. "Okay, I miss you as well. But you didn't have to come here to tell me that." You didn't have to come here at all. You could have stayed away and let me mourn you in peace.
Bishamon disregarded his words and wandered deeper into the house. "I didn't want you to spend Christmas alone."
"You should be with your family."
"You were the only one I had for the longest time. Why do the circumstances have to change how I feel about you?" Ah, she still looked unaffected. The truth came out of her mouth so blithely it was as if she was unaware of how hurtful she tended to be. He knew she had a conscience for her speech but chose to ignore it. "Are you eating anything? It's Christmas Eve. Let me cook for you."
Yet again he was reminded of how poorly he knew how to deal with such frankness. Her blatant disregard for confrontation when it came to him, her easy misdirection. "You can't cook." He reminded her. "Sit down, I'll make us something to eat." Then you can be on your way.
Bishamon pouted all the way over to the kitchen island where she occupied a bar stool. "I can cook, you know."
"Oh yeah?" He asked with a barely concealed unbelieving and apathy. Bishamon could do many, many great things but she couldn't even cook an egg to save her life. Speaking of eggs, he thought as he reached for 4 brown eggs.
"Yes. Aiha has been teaching me how to make omelettes." The proud lilt of her voice made a small smile crack the steady set of Kazuma's expression.
"And how is that working out for you?" He tied an apron around his waist and set a clean pan on the gas burner.
"She said I had to work on getting no eggshells on the mixture."
He could imagine the displeased crinkle of her nose as she spoke and resisted seeing for himself by pouring oil on the pan. "All in the hand technique, Veena. Come look." That impulse, the one to have her close for even just a little while, he wasn't able to resist. He cracked one egg right into the pan.
Bishamon appeared beside him, her shoulder touching his, her face too close to the pan than what was probably safe. When she bent down to closer inspect the perfect yolk and the runny white, he could see her hair swing perilously close to the fire. "Step back from the stove a bit, Veena." He nudged her with his hip. "Now, look." He cracked the middle of the egg on the edge of the counter and swiftly opened the rend to release another egg into the pan. The rest of the eggs followed until they pooled into one big egg with 4 yolks in the center, evenly spaced. Bishamon watched with a reverence that belonged more on his face than hers as Kazuma ground fresh pepper on the eggs, then sprinkled salt with a flourish. Just to show her up, he garnished with some paprika.
Bishamon laughed in delight. She was a snap to please sometimes. Back when things were simpler, she used to be as undemanding as a breath of fresh air. "I feel like watching the food I'm about to eat get cooked in front of me makes me hungrier than usual." Easy, so easily, she opened the right cupboard to reach for a plate and took 2 forks from a cabinet. She looked like her place was here with him. Shut up, you know better.
Wordlessly, Kazuma transferred the eggs into her waiting plate. She walked back to the high chairs and held out a fork to him. With a pang burning low behind his ribs, he joined her.
"I'm done asking you for anything, Kazuma. I just wanted to spend Christmas with you." Bishamon didn't look at him as she spoke, settling her focus on the yolk she was poking open.
"You could be having a better time with other people right now." Not your gloomy ex-lover, not eating eggs because anything else took too much effort, not basking in tepid ambiance, not struggling to find something to say when the air got heavy.
The quick smile on her lips disappeared just as fast. There was the Bishamon who had a fickle temperament and hated the words of deprecation that flew so easily from his lips. She didn't act on the irritation, though. The lines between her eyes settled away. She'd done some introspection, too, while they'd been separated. She couldn't be a crutch to Kazuma's poor self-esteem. "You have some problems that you need to work through by yourself. I understand that and I'm trying to give you the space you asked for. But it's a simple fact that I want to spend Christmas with you over anyone else. I wouldn't be as happy anywhere as I am here, right now."
Kazuma waited a beat before saying anything. His Veena had an effortless way of stealing his breath away with the most austere statements. How simple it was for her to accept all of him, even the ugly parts of himself he couldn't embrace. He wished that made it easier somehow, but it only made an ulcer simmer in his gut. He didn't deserve her. He relented, though, since it was Christmas. "Okay."
"Okay." When Bishamon smiled, it was like a ray of light. Corny, but accurate. She always shone even in the dimmest corners of his life. "Will you play something for me tonight? I missed hearing you play."
Playing the damned piano that had him defeated for months. These days it was hard looking at the keys and summoning the strength to let dexterous appendages create melody. Everything used to be so easy. Now a heavy tarp covered the old Weber his father passed onto him. But for Bishamon, he'd do everything. "I guess one piece wouldn't hurt."
He ended up playing well into Christmas morning. Bach transitioned seamlessly and beautifully to Brahms and then a softer Rachmaninoff later into the night. They'd found some wine and ended up on the sofa, exchanging stories in lieu of presents. I missed this, Kazuma realized. I missed Veena and music and being content with my life. He fell asleep to the vaguest thoughts of calling his manager about his career.
When a ray of sun shone over his eyes, he woke up with Bishamon's head on his lap, warm and soft.
