Part Four


Chapter Forty-Four

It's scary how easy it is to forget someone is psychic; that they can dig around in your head to find your most private thoughts and lay them bare to everyone in the world.

It's also scary how convenient that can be because even though that person has absolutely no business being inside your head, they can make things happen that you had no idea were even possible—things you didn't even know you wanted to happen—until they were already happening.

That someone used to be me.

Yare, yare.


Always

"You sure you're fine?" Kusuo frowned as Kokomi nodded and tossed the cool washcloth he'd pressed against her swollen eyes into the dirty clothes hamper. Even after her hour-long nap followed by another twenty minutes of cooling her eyes, she still looked blotchy and worn out. Gorgeous, of course, but it was obvious she'd been hardcore ugly crying.

Though even her ugly crying is beautiful.

Ugh, you're such a sap, Kusuo.

Is this going to be a thing now? You randomly jumping into my thoughts?

The equivalent of a shrug filtered over, and Kusuo sighed.

Yare, yare.

Clearly, they would need to have a talk later about boundaries.

Kokomi stood, still patting her puffy cheeks and eyes as if that alone was enough to bring down the swelling, and offered him as cheery a smile as he knew she could fake.

"We'll be late for lunch if I indulge any longer. And besides," she struck an over-exaggerated pretty girl pose, "if anyone could fall asleep crying and wake up looking gorgeous—"

"Yare, yare." Kusuo shook his head with a fond quirk of his lips.

Kokomi stuck out her tongue with a playful scrunch of her nose. "Spoil sport."

Kusuo opened the door for her and didn't protest when she laced their fingers together on her way into the hall because it was far more troublesome to kick up a fuss than just go along. He closed the door with his foot as she pulled him away, and it only took two quick strides to catch her up.

"So…" Kokomi glanced up at him, gnawing her lower lip in an adorable show of nerves. "What do we tell everyone?"

Kusuo shrugged. "Do we have to tell them anything?"

"Kusuo." Kokomi rolled her eyes, exasperated. "I realize friends are largely not your area, but they are mine. And if my parents can't make it to my wedding, then I would at least like everyone else there. Chiyo's my maid of honor, you know. She'd never forgive me otherwise."

That's true, Chiyo chimed in. I wouldn't.

Yare, yare.

"Then we tell them we're getting married, and they're invited."

"And the babies—?"

"Are none of their business."

Kokomi nodded. "Fair enough."

She fell silent as they walked, which was more annoying than her usual inane chatter. Kusuo glanced her way, willing her to say what she was thinking now that he had no way of knowing.

Yare, yare. This wouldn't be happening with telepathy.

"What?" Kusuo demanded, and Kokomi had the gall to look up in surprise.

"What, what?"

"What aren't you saying?"

Kokomi shrugged. "It's nothing—"

"It's not nothing." He pulled her to a stop, their fingers still laced together, and tugged her against his chest. He draped an arm around her waist and tilted her chin up with his other hand so they were eye to eye. "I may not be psychic anymore, but I still know you better than anyone. You think I can't tell when you're upset?" Dropping her chin, he tapped two fingers over his heart. "Or did you forget already?"

Kokomi blushed at the reminder of their intimate exploration of their soul bond only the night before, but she rallied admirably.

"It's really nothing." She shook her head before he could protest. "I don't mean I'm not feeling anything or that the feelings I have aren't important. I just mean there's not really anything you can do about it."

Nothing he could do? Kusuo frowned, his brow furrowing. "It's the wedding, isn't it?"

Kokomi blushed again, this time in humiliation rather than embarrassment. She looked away, her lower lip back between her teeth.

"It's just…not what I always pictured, you know? I wanted a fluffy wedding dress and a veil and flowers and a cake and…" She shrugged again with a sheepish smile. "I know it's ridiculous, all that really matters is the registry—"

Her eyes widened at the same moment Kusuo swore.

"The registry." Kokomi dropped her forehead against Kusuo's chest with a groan. "How could we forget something like that? I don't even have my stamp!"

"Yare, yare." Because, of course, Kusuo didn't have his either.

"Are we able to print a registration form to stamp later?" Kokomi frowned. "It's not exactly ideal, but at least it would have our information and signatures. We could mail it in after we get home."

While as solid a plan as they could manage, the delay had very little appeal to Kusuo. What if something happened to him in the fight? He needed to know that Kokomi and the twins would have legal protection under his family name.

"…I'll ask Kuwabara-sensei to take me into town before they leave tomorrow." Kusuo's brow furrowed, not entirely convinced even as he spoke. "If we get there first thing, we should have plenty of time."

Kokomi looked skeptical, but she only shrugged. "Whatever you think is best."

He thought this whole thing was a pain, but he also knew better than to say so.

"It will work," he said instead, and Kokomi squeezed his hand as they walked.

A tangle of spirit energy bounced around inside the dining room, making Kusuo frown as they stepped up to the door. What could possibly justify such a high-level of excitement? Had something else catastrophic happened?

Yare, yare; it's barely noon.

The dining room door slid open with a crack to reveal a characteristically beaming Chiyo.

Not catastrophic, then, Kusuo decided while doing his best to tamp down the relief he felt at seeing his friend back to her usual bubbly self.

"You guys!" Chiyo threw herself at the pair, throwing an arm around each of their necks to drag them down into a choking hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

Yare, yare. Of course, Chiyo knows. She'd been inside his head all morning.

"Chiyo," Kusuo growled, but Chiyo released them and stepped back with her finger jabbed directly at his face.

"Ah, ah, ah!" She ticked her finger back and forth with each syllable. "Today is a happy day! No Grumpy Guses allowed!"

Then, glancing around before leaning forward, Chiyo pressed her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered, "I won't say anything about the twins, but do you really expect me to stay quiet about the wedding?"

Yare, yare.

"Hey, Kusuo." Hairo grinned at the clustered trio from across the table and flashed a thumbs up. "Congratulations, man!"

"Yeah, same." Aren nodded, a sincere smile softening the usually harsh lines of his face. Beside him, Mera was drooling.

"Does this mean there will be cake?"

Off to the side, Shun was quaking with a severe blush coating his skin from head to toe.

"C-c-con—"

"Why-y-y-y-y?!" Toritsuka jumped in front of Shun, cutting him off, as he wailed and wept great streams of tears. "How dare you steal Teruhashi-chan, you bastard?" He cried into the cuff of his usual temple uniform. "It was supposed to be me, not you!"

Kusuo's brow twitched. In what warped universe had this perverted moron ever thought he had even a modicum of a chance with someone like Kokomi?

Then, Toritsuka stood straight and grasped Kusuo's shoulders almost hard enough to hurt.

"Saiki!" He stared Kusuo straight in the eyes, his own still streaming tears. "You had better take good care of her, understand? If she sheds even one tear over you—"

"Buddy!"

Literally chucked aside, Toritsuka flew across the room and through the dining room's still ruined wall to land on a heap in the courtyard. Before Kusuo could even blink, Nendou had wrapped him in a bear hug tight enough that Kusuo was sure his eyes would pop out.

"I'm so happy for you, man." Nendou pressed his cheek against Kusuo's as he cried. "This is seriously the greatest day ever!"

Get off me, you moron.

"Nendou-dono, I do believe Saiki-dono needs to breathe."

"Eh?" Nendou shoved Kusuo away in a panic. "What's wrong, man? You panicking or something? You need mouth-to—"

Kusuo put his hand to Nendou's cheek and shoved him determinedly away. "Don't even finish that thought."

To his right, Kokomi giggled, and Kusuo shot her an annoyed scowl. She merely shrugged and smiled that same heart-meltingly real smile she'd been giving him for the last three or more years. Tamping down a blush, Kusuo turned back to his friends.

"We were going to tell you." He sent Chiyo a disapproving frown. "It wasn't your news to share."

"Eh?" Chiyo pointed to herself, bewildered, and said, "Me? I didn't say anything." She pointed to the side. "That was all her."

Her? Kusuo followed Chiyo's finger to find Natsuko mid-bow.

"My apologies, Saiki-dono, but I'm afraid I…overheard several of Nadi's visions regarding this day, and while I realize my presumptuousness is quite rude, I could not, in good conscience, allow the moment to pass without a proper celebration. I fear you would both regret it if that were to be the case."

Kusuo side-eyed Yamato, who had her arms crossed and her back to the wall. Feeling Kusuo's accusing gaze, she met his frown with a scowl and a shrug, and Kusuo knew exactly what she would say:

"It's not like we can turn it off."

During his exchange with Yamato, Natsuko stepped up to one of the dining room's unused side rooms and pushed open the twin sliding wood doors to reveal a room divided down the middle with rice paper shoji screens.

Chiyo, Mera, and Kokomi all gasped. Gauzy indigo dresses and white tuxedos with indigo ties and pocket squares flanked an enormous, gauze-veiled wedding dress on the right side of the screen that mirrored an indigo tuxedo on the left. Each outfit was worn by manikins that perfectly matched the physiques of Kusuo, Kokomi, and all their friends.

"The bride's room is on the right," Natsuko said. "And the groom's on the left. Oka-sama and Keiko-oba-sama are finishing up the location for the ceremony and reception, and Shizuru-oba-sama is taking care of the after-party with Yusuke-oji-sama." She smiled at Kokomi, her expression oddly shy. "It would be a great pleasure for Nadi and I to stand up with you, Kokomi-dono, to even out the numbers."

"I wouldn't say it's a great pleasure," Yamato muttered, and it was only then that Kusuo realized who was missing from the gathering; guilt pricked his heart. Of course, Aiura wouldn't want to stand as one of Kokomi's bridesmaids. Kusuo would be shocked if she attended the wedding at all.

Kokomi turned to Kusuo, her eyes glistening with happy, bewildered tears. "Kusuo?"

She expected him to say no, but what would be the point? The wedding was already set with everything taken care of. If he said no now, then he'd just have to do it all himself later anyway, and that would be a huge pain.

"Wait." Kusuo turned back to Natsuko. "What about the registry?"

Natsuko shook her head. "No need to worry, Saiki-dono. Otou-sama is the local magistrate. He will officiate today and file all the proper paperwork before he leaves for Demon World in the morning."

Yare, yare

Kusuo turned to Kokomi with a nod. "Aa."

The smile she gave him defied description.

Offu.

Squealing, Chiyo dragged Kokomi, Mera, Natsuko, and Yamato into the bride room and slammed the sliding door shut.

#

Kusuo had expected mountains of red roses, gold accents on every surface, and pounds and pounds of lace when he stepped into the dojo that had been repurposed for the wedding ceremony, but the only thing he was right about was the lace, and only just. Instead, indigo wisteria hung from the ceiling amidst strands of tiny lights that twinkled slowly as if stars in the night sky. Chairs lined either side of an aisle laid with a white runner carpet edged with white rose petals and two lines of indigo bows connected by white lace ribbon. Everyone currently in the compound was in attendance and dressed to the nines.

At the front on the groom's side sat Kusuo's mother in a simple indigo yukata sporting the Saiki clan symbol in white. She'd left the chair to her right empty with a small memorial photo on the seat in place of Kusuo's father. Kusuke was on their mother's left wearing a black suit with a white shirt and indigo tie and to his left was, shockingly, Aiura in a short-sleeved indigo sheathe dress and nude pumps with her long blonde curls pinned up to the right side to show off one chandelier earing. Where had she gotten that getup from?

Even more surprising than Aiura were his grandparents, who sat to her left looking both characteristically (Grandpa) and unaccountably (Grandma) grumpy. Grandma—wearing a skirt that was far too short to be either age or event appropriate—also, for whatever reason, had Aiura's hand in both of hers and looked to be offering words of comfort and support. Kusuo vaguely remembered the two meeting and hitting it off at some point, and he wondered if Grandma was upset that her favored love interest hadn't "won." Grandpa, of course, was fangirling on the inside; Kusuo didn't even need telepathy to know that.

"Hey, man." Hairo dropped a hand on Kusuo's shoulder. "You good?"

Dropping the layers of sheer white and indigo curtains that hid the back of the dojo from the wedding stage, Kusuo nodded even though his stomach felt full of rabid pigeons. Was he getting the flu? It would just figure that the one day in his life that he got sick would be his wedding day.

His stomach turned summersaults at that thought, and he swallowed down the acid that tried to escape.

"You sure?" Hairo's brow furrowed. "You look pretty green, man. You sure you aren't nervous?"

Nervous? Kusuo shot him a deadpan glare. What did he possibly have to be nervous about?

Hairo raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, there's no harm, you know? Even if this is what you want, every guy's gonna be nervous at his wedding."

"Yeah," Kuboyasu chimed in, "I mean, how are you supposed to know if she gets cold feet or not until she doesn't show up? Or maybe a rival gang will bust in at the last second and a fight breaks out and everything goes to hell, but she's right there beside you, fighting 'til the bitter—"

"What Aren means," Shun broke in, "is that it's normal to be worried."

"I'm not worried."

"Nervous," Shun corrected.

"I'm not nervous."

"Hey, you guys," Nendou broke in, shooing the other three away. "Natsu-san said you're supposed to be out there already, so go on. I gotta say something to my buddy real quick, and then we'll be right out, yeah?" He waved the three of them toward the break in the curtains. "Go on, go on. We're right behind you."

Kuboyasu, Hairo, and Shun exchanged questioning glances before shrugging and heading out. Shun paused halfway through the curtains.

"Let us know if you need anything, okay, Kusuo?"

Kusuo nodded. "Aa."

Shun flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up before disappearing through the curtain.

"You ready for this, man?" Nendou asked, his face appearing right in front of Kusuo's. Kusuo flinched back with a frown.

"Ready for what?" Kusuo's frown deepened to a scowl as he straightened his tuxedo jacket. "I already said I'm not nervous about the wedding."

"Oh, I know that, buddy! Only an idiot would think you were. The marriage, on the other hand, well, you're definitely nervous about that. And definitely about what comes after."

Dear God. Kusuo cringed, putting his back to Nendou. Please tell me I'm not about to get 'the talk' from Nendou.

"But don't worry about a thing, cause your best-buddy knows exactly what you need!"

Ugh, why does that sound even worse than 'the talk'?

"Hey, Uncle, you coming out or what?"

Uncle?

"Really, Nendou-san, you couldn't have thought of a better way to announce me?"

Kusuo looked up at that voice, staring bug-eyed at the gently rippling curtains that separated him from the rest of the wedding party.

"What do you need announcing for? Buddy already knows who you are, right buddy?"

Deep breaths, Kusuo coached himself. Just…breathe, dammit.

"I mean, you're his dad and whatever, how could he not know—?"

"Nendou-san. Thank you for arranging this, but if we could have a moment?"

"Oh, right, sure thing! See you out there, buddy!"

The curtain exploded into motion as Nendou burst through it and onto the wedding stage. A few ripples almost smacked Kusuo in the face, but he didn't care. He didn't dare move or look away from the undulating colors because if this was some sick joke, then—

"It's not a joke, son. You can turn around."

No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—

"Kusuo." A hand dropped on Kusuo's shoulder, turning him gently. His eyes dropped to the floor, and a pair of white socked feet sporting zori stepped into view. The striped hakama pants were neatly pressed with each pleat perfectly placed. Swallowing hard, Kusuo followed the planes up to the indigo haori and white haori-himo with the Saiki crest in white on either sleeve.

"Just a little more, Kusuo."

Lifting only his eyes, Kusuo came face to face with his dead father.

"Hey, son."

Kusuo punched him in the gut.

"Oof!" Kuniharu doubled over Kusuo's fist and clung to his shoulders so he wouldn't fall over. "Well, that's quite the punch you have there…ugh."

"You stupid jerk." Kusuo didn't yell; he didn't want Kokomi to think something was wrong. "You have some serious guts to show your face like this right now."

Kuniharu chuckled and patted Kusuo's right shoulder. "I should have guessed this was how you'd act. No tearful reunion for this old man, huh?"

"Why are you here?"

"You have to ask?" Kuniharu groaned upright and straightened his glasses. "I'm obviously here to give you fatherly advice on your wedding day."

"You're dead."

"Yes, and? Or did you not realize that half the people you associate with now are dead too? Or, well…" Kuniharu put a fist to his chin. "Not exactly dead, I guess, since Koenma-sama and Botan-san were born in the spirit world, but you get what I'm saying."

"You died." Kusuo grabbed a handful of his father's haori and jerked him down so they were nose to nose. "You left us, and you choose to show up now? Like nothing ever happened?"

"Of course, something happened, Kusuo. But if you think I left you and your brother and your mother, then that's where you're wrong." Kuniharu put a hand to his chest without bothering to disentangle his clothes from Kusuo's angry grip. "The only time I left your side in the last two weeks was when you went into Demon's Door Cave and at night when I'm with your mother. The week you were in that cave, I spent with Kusuke in his cave, and let me tell you, that boy needs some serious sun. Hopefully this thing with Mikoto-san will work out—"

"What do you mean you were there?" Kusuo broke in, blinking widely to flush out whatever was making his eyes burn. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You couldn't hear me. Or see me, for that matter. Not until you tapped into your spiritual side in the cave." Kuniharu's stern expression softened, and he reached up to rest his hand on the side of Kusuo's neck. "I want you to know that I'm proud of you, son. Everything you've done to protect this family…" He shook his head. "I couldn't have done better myself."

Kusuo's breath hitched, and his throat and chest burned and throbbed. "Dad…"

Tipping his head down, Kuniharu tapped Kusuo's forehead with his own. "You're a good man, Kusuo, and good men make great husbands." He leaned back and grinned, tears rimming his eyes. "And even better fathers."

Dammit

Choking on a sob, Kusuo dropped his forehead against his father's chest and clung to his haori with a death grip.

"Easy, son." Kuniharu wrapped Kusuo in his arms and held him tight. "I've got you."

Kusuo cried into his father's chest in a way he'd never cried before. Even that night he'd spent with Kokomi after learning of his father's death had seen only a few tears squeezed out between tightly clenched eyes. But now, Kusuo didn't try to fight it, because alive or dead, his father was here for him. The way he always had been. The way he always would be.

Always.

"All right, enough of that." Kuniharu sniffled back his own tears as he tilted Kusuo's head up to mop his eyes and cheeks with a clean handkerchief. "Your bride is waiting for you on the other side of these curtains, you know. You don't want her to think you got cold feet."

Kusuo clenched his dad's haori sleeves tighter, his stomach clenching. "You're not leaving?"

"No, no, of course not." Kuniharu reached up to fix Kusuo's mussed pink hair. "I'll be sitting right beside your mother. Just…" He sighed. "Try not to stare, okay? She and Kusuke still can't see me."

"…Aa." For a man so intensely in love with his wife, that must be hell.

Stepping back, Kusuo patted himself down and let his dad fuss with the white silk square in his left breast pocket. "Well?"

"You look great, son." Kuniharu clapped both Kusuo's shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. "Go get her."

Yare, yare.

With one last stabilizing breath, Kusuo stepped through the indigo and white curtains and onto the wedding stage.


Kaliea: So, I have an extremely small amount of buffer, but I wanted to get at least one chapter up this month so there's not another excruciatingly long hiatus. Unfortunately, due to work commitments, the odds of me finishing this story before the end of the year are—once again—pretty slim, but here's hoping!