Author's Note: Hi all. I'm fairly new to the Tactics fandom, and this is my first Tactics fic. I've only seen the anime (all of it, though), never read the manga. So if they actually tell us Kantarou's age in the manga, pretend Haruka doesn't know. >.>
I was actually trying to work on my Outlaw Star fic when the plot bunny for this attacked with a vengence, and drew me away from Fred and Gene for the entire night, poor guys. Anyway, there's some boy fluff in this, so if you don't like it please turn back now and don't smite me. Though really, Haruka and Kantarou are so meant to be. (Has anyone else noticed how much Kouki Miyata and Takahiro Sakurai stalk each other in their anime? x3)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to Tactics, I'm not making any money off of this, and THANK YOU FOR RUBBING IT IN.
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Haruka liked dozing on the roof. It was nice being able to lay out in the sun, watching the clouds roll by and feeling the wind caressing his face. Perhaps because he had spent so much time in the air in the course of his many years, he needed to feel a certain level of above-it-all in his everyday life. Whatever the reasons, this afternoon he was in his usual spot, in his usual position, inwardly turning to the usual thoughts - mainly concerning his master, Kantarou.
Master; friend; and more recently, lover. One of the other things he enjoyed about his escapes to the roof was the fact that he could get away from the smaller man and let his thoughts about him run lose. Not to mention the fact that today Kantarou's energetic and demanding publisher, Reiko, had dropped by; Haruka liked to get as far away from those encounters as he could without actually leaving his master behind. Though even going as far as the rooftop didn't help to escape the noise.
Lamentable as that fact was, Haruka had learned to tune it out for the most part, as he was currently doing. He sometimes let the familiar, soft voice of Kantarou grace his ears, even if he didn't pay attention to the actual words. That was perhaps Haruka's favourite accent to his time on the roof - hearing Kantarou down below. Moving from room to room, speaking (or more likely, arguing) with Youko, flipping through pages of research for his writing; all of it audible, all of it familiar, all of it comforting. It comforted the winged tengu to hear sounds of the everyday, sounds of stability; Kantarou was here, had always been here, and would continue to be so for a long time.
Some people, Haruka had observed, had trouble sleeping in anything but dark and silence. For the dark-haired tengu, the opposite was true. He had spent so long confined in the dark, countless years in silence and solitude. And then Kantarou had jetted into his life, had freed him from that cold prison the younger man's very own ancestor had created for him. Since that day, all that had surrounded Haruka had been light; colour; noise; life. Love.
Love had radiated from the short silver-haired man from the moment his eyes had been able to verify that Haruka was, indeed, that special person he had spent his entire life searching for. Haruka realized that now - in fact, it was painfully obvious that Kantarou had felt this way from the very beginning. It was only after many months of experience living among the humans, observing, learning their actions and relationships with each other, that he had been able to put a name to that spark that flickered in Kantarou's eyes whenever he looked at Haruka.
After that realization, everything had clicked. It all happened one evening, after another exorcism case had been concluded. Kantarou had been busily putting the tale into writing when Youko had called everyone to dinner. The relative peace had been punctuated with a few wonderings-aloud about the spirit they had encountered that day; it had been a pretty straightforward case to begin with. Embittered love, death, possession by a vengeful spirit, more resultant deaths - the usual.
But after the exorcism had been successfully pulled off, the lovesick woman's spirit had gazed upon the man of her affections with such a pure love filling her ghostly shining eyes. Her feelings finally realized and acknowledged by the man, she had been able to pass on into the next world.
And Kantarou had peered over at Haruka that evening at dinner, unwittingly catching the tengu's eyes. And Haruka had finally recognized the same glimmer of love that had been in the woman's eyes in those of soft red that belonged to his master. He had actually dropped his beloved rice bowl at the realization, and that had drawn the attention of his fellow diners, much to his embarrassment. His cheeks had grown hot under Kantarou's questioning stare, and the flustered goblin had had to excuse himself from the table.
Later on that night, Haruka had stood before the door that opened to Kantarou's bedroom for a good fifteen minutes before the folklorist had had enough and saved him the trouble of opening it. He had then informed the startled tengu that he had long since developed the ability to sense his presence, a fact that only solidified Haruka's notion about Kantarou's feelings.
Haruka had struggled for his words at the younger man's questioning as to the reason he was there so late at night. That stare, that red gaze, so full of mystery; eyes that had seen more than anyone's share of pain and suffering, and yet which spoke of their vessel's love so easily and so clearly - they kept Haruka's tongue tied. Their crimson depths shone warmly, inviting the tengu to dive in and lose himself in that vastness.
It was at that point that Haruka realized that the words weren't important; that they were unnecessary, and not even enough to scratch the surface of the true depth of either of their feelings. It was then that Haruka had pulled Kantarou into his arms, had cupped his pale cheek and tipped his face up, guiding their lips together in what became only the first of many kisses that they would share.
Things had changed since that night, of course; but not a whole lot. Sure, they now shared a bed every night, and spent many a sleepless one discovering new ways of expressing their love. And indeed they sometimes indulged in public displays of affection, from simple touches and hand-holding to the occasional deep French on the streets at nighttime, if the crowds were thin enough. But other than that, they found they were perfectly happy with the way things were. It was a simple love, pure in its own right. It may have been fair to call it all-consuming, but as one of them had already given himself up to that love long before they ever met face-to-face, it still changed very little.
They still learned new things about each other; Haruka secretly wished that that would never cease. He thought he had no need to fear that it would though, as Kantarou turned out to be a very mysterious man. He wanted to take his time unfolding those mysteries, savoring each one and further shaping the man's character in his mind.
As these thoughts drew to an end, a thread of Kantarou's conversation with his publisher drifted up to Haruka through the writer's open window. If 'conversation' was indeed the word for such a scolding as his master was getting at the moment.
"…honestly don't understand how this happens every time, Sensei. How long have you been in this business? And how often do you try to shirk your duties? This isn't just your job on the line, you know! Do you have any idea how hard it is for a working woman like me to gain respect in this business? And yet my hardships never matter to you! To think that a man at your age would still run from responsibility like some school brat…!"
She went on, and Haruka could make out the faint, non-committal mumblings of his master as he struggled to keep his concentration on his writing. Yes, that down there was reason enough to camp out on the roof at times like these. Though really, it would be a simple matter of flashing a disarming smile at the woman and proffering an arm for her to grasp to get her out of Kantarou's hair. But he didn't want to use himself like that, and he figured Kantarou wouldn't really appreciate it or take it the way it was meant.
But a part of her spiel had stuck in Haruka's mind - "A man at your age." He pondered those words, letting them roll around in his mind as he stared at the clouds above. Just how old was Kantarou? Of all the mysteries his master held, this was probably the most irksome. It just couldn't be figured out one way or another through conventional means. The man had adult enough friends that he had known since childhood, but he himself looked to be no older than sixteen or seventeen. And as if to directly contradict that young face, he had the silver hair of an old grandfather!
Maybe together, those two features average out to his true age, he mused. But then, he supposed he wasn't one to talk about deceiving features. Kantarou knew (everyone knew) that oni, youkai, tengu - demons in general - aged at a far slower pace than humans. But even he didn't know how old Haruka was, and to be perfectly frank, Haruka didn't feel like divulging that information.
Haruka sighed a little to himself. He supposed that he couldn't ask if he wouldn't tell; but the curiosity was really getting to him. Obviously Kantarou wouldn't mind being asked; hell, even that publisher woman knew!
Now too distracted to be at ease with just cloud watching, Haruka flew down to the ground below and went inside. Not one to beat around the bush, he quickly made his way to the room Kantarou was being berated in and slid the door open.
"Ah! Haruka-san!" the woman quickly interrupted her own tirade to turn sparkling eyes to the handsome tengu. "Long time no see!"
"Nn," he grunted in reply, making his way over to Kantarou's seat.
"Hey Haruka," the silver-haired man smiled at his lover. "What's up?"
Haruka grasped Kantarou's wrist in reply, hauling the man to his feet. "I have a question."
"Ah…okay…" Kantarou replied, rightfully perplexed, but allowing himself to be led out of the room. "I guess I'll be right back, Reiko-san."
"W-wait a minute! Sensei!" The door closed on her protests before she could really get started, thanks once again to Haruka.
Once at the opposite side of the house, Haruka released his master's wrist and turned to face him. He looked at the smaller man before him for a long moment, internally hypothesizing a possible age-range.
"Um…Haruka?" Kantarou prompted, lifting an eyebrow at the stare. "Thanks for getting me out of there and everything, but did you really have a question?"
Haruka nodded, still leveling his steady gaze at Kantarou's face. Kantarou stared back, waiting patiently for the tengu to ask - was he actually working up the nerve to ask him something?
"I…" Haruka started, looking away for a second before diving in. "I wanted to know…how old you are."
Kantarou blinked bemusedly for a few moments; then his eyebrows came down, twitching faintly. "Every time…" he muttered. He knew he looked like a kid already, for goodness' sake!
Haruka's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise at the reaction from his lover; he thought Kantarou would just laugh about it and then tell him, or maybe tease him about wanting to know a little - but not get angry. He was about to tell Kantarou to forget he asked before things got any worse, but was stopped by an overly dramatic sigh from the man.
"Don't worry about it, Haruka," he said a little despondently, though it was more for show than anything else. "I guess I'll never get used to being this young-looking, no matter how many years go by." He plopped down on the nearest seat in the room and smiled up good-naturedly at his tengu.
Haruka, for his part, was still a bit confused. But it appeared he would finally get an answer, so he stayed put and awaited an explanation.
"I've been this way since I was fifteen years old," Kantarou began, moving his eyes downward to the floor. "It…it's a side effect from a curse from a vengeful spirit I exorcised back then. It drew out a heavy dose of my life energy, and the curse forced my body to freeze itself in this condition to keep from dying. I was able to get my energy back from the monster, but…the effects of the curse remained."
Through his explanation, Kantarou's expression had grown more distant and more serious. Haruka didn't like it, and a slight frown made itself more and more prominent in his face.
"It's gotten a bit better since then," Kantarou continued, forcing himself to try and sound reassuring. "Now I look almost seventeen, or so I hear. Over the years the effects will lessen their hold, but I'll most likely be quite old by the time I'm finally free of them completely." He finished his narrative directed at the floor, his eyes half-lidded and a sad smile curving his lips.
Haruka said nothing, but watched the emotions spilling from his lover's eyes like the tears he had given up crying. Finally, he had enough; he closed the distance between them with two long strides and knelt in front of Kantarou, who was startled out of whatever thoughts he'd been lost in. Haruka took hold of the younger man's chin, forcing their eyes to meet for a long moment; then they closed as he softly brought his lips to meet those of the other.
Kantarou quickly lost himself in the kiss, and the tengu took the opportunity to deepen it. He released Kantarou's chin, bringing one hand up to tangle in that shining silver hair, the other pressing his back and pulling him closer. It was all Kantarou could do to clutch desperately at the front of Haruka's shirt, fisting the fabric in both hands as though he were afraid if he didn't the tengu would disappear on him.
When they finally broke apart for air, Haruka rested his forehead against that of his lover's. When he spoke, his soft breath ghosted over Kantarou's lips, making them tingle. "It's not such a bad thing, is it? You'll be able to stay younger with me for longer this way."
Kantarou blinked. "I…I'd never thought of it that way before," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Haruka responded to that with another kiss, this one brief as he stood up, pulling the other man to his feet along with him. "You never answered my question," he observed.
"Well, how old are you?" Kantarou replied with a quirk of the eyebrow.
"…"
"That's what I thought," he said with a laugh. He wrapped an arm around Haruka's waist, planting a quick kiss on the corner of his lips before walking to the door and sliding it open. "I'd better get back to Reiko-san before she comes hunting me down full-fury. Don't worry, I'll have her out by dinner time," he said to Haruka with a wink before making his way down the hall, back to his workroom.
Haruka watched him go with a small sigh and a mock glare; after Kantarou's back disappeared from view though, the glare melted into a soft smile. Well, he hadn't found out his lover's age, and neither had he divulged his own - but he was willing to try again, as was Kantarou, surely. And they still had a lot of time to…work the information out of each other, he thought, his smile morphing into a smirk.