A/N: I swear, I fully expected for this to be a short one but the words sorta passed me by, and, well. Here we go! The much-awaited expansive glimpse of how Take came to know about Reiya and all the other things in between, featuring Taito meeting the other half of the time travel quartet! ✧.* Big thanks to these lovelies: Einklley, DarkAngelLida, animefairy299, Guest, Rosedust13 and stvrlightt for dropping by! ❤️❤️❤️
Before we get to the chapter though, I feel like I need to explain that although I said not to think too deeply about this fic in my parting A/N last chapter, what I meant with that is you don't have to literally turn your brain off while reading this (this isn't that kind of dead dove fic in the first place iykwim). I only ask for you to please read it with a grain of salt. It's fiction after all (fanfiction at that) and I just want all of us to have a good time. Although naturally as the author I will defend this story like an ancient last lord of the land if I feel like there's something I need to correct, clarify, or expand on, so please bear with me too when that time comes (人￣▽￣)
BTW. I've been feeling the Mitsuya and Yuzuha ship lately after catching up with the 2nd season. I've always liked Yuzuha and I've got plans for this girl, but actually pairing her up with Mitsuya? It's something I've been on the fence with (especially after Wakui threw that wrench in the motor when she ended up developing a crush on Takemichi after all) but I've always appreciated their contrast in the manga (aesthetically and otherwise), and who could forget that sweet lil moment they had when Mitsuya caught her from falling in the church? Chef's fucking kiss. Seeing it animated just hits different and now I've been thinking I wanna give them some much-deserved spotlight but if I do, theirs is going to be the slowest of slow burns in this joint so I wanna know what you guys think. On top of ReiJiro, DrakEmma, and TakeHina, do we want a MitsuYu ship too? (idk the official ship name so if anyone knows come hit me up) I'm all ears! ^^
Some tidbits to note:
※ It was unclear what date Takemichi accidentally returned to in the future so I'm just gonna move it up a little here, making it a full one week after July 8, therefore July 15.
※ You will notice that I've really cut some corners with most of the canon events here. That's because I don't wanna bore you guys with what we've seen and read in the official series already, and partly because I'll always opt to gloss over a canon scene if I feel it doesn't contribute much significance to the overall plot of this fic. Also! There's going to be a small divergence in regards to Takemichi meeting Akkun again in this timeline, which is a direct result of the whole Toman civil war going on. On another note, I'm going to level up Takemichi's perception here just a tiiiiiny bit. Our crybaby hero can't be all "head empty, no thoughts, just action" all the time, and I'm not saying he didn't grow at all in the series but here, we stan a quick-witted Takemichi ✧˖°
〖 Chapter Thirteen 〗
Entr'acte Symposia
(PART II)
JULY 15, 2017
When Takemichi first heard about Reiya, the first time he saw her was through a photograph.
It was in the week right after he met Mikey, an explosion of deafening colors and a lightning strike coalescing in the dark being the last thing he saw before he lurched out of the sheets, yelling and crying as if he'd emerged from a nightmare without the slightest idea that he'd woken up to a reality heavily steeped in one.
A bloodbath. That was the state Tokyo was in when Takemichi returned to his time. And, unsurprisingly, it was all because of the Tokyo Manji Gang.
But the modern-day warfare hadn't been a simple fight born out of greed and Toman's proclivity to dominate, and it wasn't even a simple gang versus gang conflict.
It was a purge turned inward—a crusade. Headed by none other than Sano Manjiro himself who left mark after mark after mark upon his former allies' bodies; stringing them up, cutting them down limb by limb. Whatever state they were found in there was always a message, a warning, a tomb…all of them the same, all of them styled in the shape of a double cherry. The average citizen didn't know what it meant and many found it unconventional, even comical. One thing for sure, however, was that it was bizarre, horrifying, and red.
Always red.
It became the symbol from which the name of this particular case was derived. A rather sweet and innocent title for the most vicious strife Toman had ever faced in their reign as the country's most wanted gang, put simply by the higher-ups in Naoto's office as…
The Toman Cherry Incident.
"That…sounds like some lame porn film," Takemichi pointed out. He couldn't help it. He was pretty sure he'd heard something similar in one of the Not Safe for Work DVDs he had to put away in his day job back at the rental store.
Standing across from him was a sleep-deprived Naoto, who didn't look the slightest bit amused at his attempt to lighten the mood. The young policeman had been irritable ever since Takemichi came back, doing a straight one-eighty from how he initially reacted when the older male finally woke up from his time-traveling-induced coma. Naoto had been relieved—even hopeful—and for a moment he had been as cheerful as a lab student whose hypothesis was proven true.
"You came back because something changed, right!?" he asked, looking like a crazed scholar at the end of his wits.
Suffice to say, Naoto was not the biggest fan of the little accident. They went over the specifics of Takemichi's newfound ability afterwards, leading the latter to reveal how he'd already made contact with Mikey, and Naoto had become increasingly heated at Takemichi's seemingly lack of caution around the notorious blond, prompting him to divulge the current state of affairs and just how the future became even worse after he left. He was shown photos, videos, and articles of Toman's recent exploits, each one bringing him closer and closer to the edge of throwing up. And then Naoto doled out this man-made disaster's name, which brought them to the present.
"The symbols aren't just for show. It means something to Sano," Naoto remarked, picking up a brown-colored catalog envelope from a nearby shelf before tossing it in Takemichi's direction.
The older male was barely able to catch it from his position on the couch, throwing Naoto a quick frown before noting how light and fairly new it was compared to the other documents in his possession.
"I mean, I get it. And Mikey-kun only carved that mark on the important-looking ones, right?" Takemichi lifted the flap and slipped his fingers inside the envelope. From their hard and multi-layered feel, it felt like a couple of pictures.
"They didn't just look important. They were Kisaki's men. He's doing it to draw him out."
Confused, Takemichi paused from pulling the photographs out and regarded Naoto with a raised brow. "What? Why would Mikey-kun do that? Aren't they partners?"
The younger male tipped his chin at the envelope in Takemichi's hands, his expression grim.
"In there is the reason why."
An unnerving coldness came over Takemichi, turning his fingers stiff. He suddenly didn't want to see what the photos were about but he began to pull them out anyway, spurned by the very same kind of courage he felt that day when he'd sworn to save Hina. There were about a dozen photographs in the envelope but the very first one appeared to be a simple scene of a residential area taken in the evening. Takemichi saw the beginnings of a tree, a streetlight, and the wheel of a motorbike, slowly completing the image inch by inch until he saw the entirety of it. The photo was a little blurry due to the camera reaching what was probably its maximum zoom feature, but the subjects couldn't have been any clearer.
It was a couple.
Their faces weren't visible with the man's back facing the lens but he had blond, medium-length tresses, while the woman had long, flowing black hair. They were holding each other, the woman's head pressed against her lover's shoulder with her arms around his waist, her slender fingers visibly peeking out from the cuffs of a white denim jacket.
Bewildered but curious, Takemichi flipped that photo to the back in order to see the next one. The nightscape was still the same, the subjects were still them, but the angle had changed and this time, he finally saw their faces.
"Huh?" Takemichi straightened in his seat. He blinked once, twice, before bringing the photo up close and studying it with undue concentration. "This is..."
The blond turned out to be Mikey, which didn't surprise Takemichi as much as the fact that he looked completely different from the first photograph he first saw him in in this timeline. That's because the Mikey in that photo had been scowling—his deep and dark eyes meeting the camera head-on in a cold and lethal stare—but the Mikey in this photograph…
Was smiling.
And he was smiling huge.
It rapidly dawned on Takemichi that Mikey was actually laughing—his eyes closed, his cheeks red. He had never seen the blond this way. Granted, Takemichi had witnessed Mikey's younger self smile and chuckle but never like this.
It transformed him. As if the individual known as the fearsome Invincible Mikey was another person entirely and that here, in this woman's arms…
He was someone else.
Someone happy, someone free.
It was jarring seeing Mikey this way and yet it had a sense of rightness to it—the sense that this was how it should be, how Mikey should be. And this kind of happiness was only ever possible because of who he was with.
With an urge that was nothing short of compulsive, Takemichi's concentrated gaze went to the woman next. The first thing he noticed was her dimple—a perfect little hollow on her soft, rosy cheek—complementing the kind of smile that had the power to either mend a heart or break it. She had long-lashed, light-colored eyes, glittering with the kind of look that almost hurt Takemichi to witness.
He had only ever seen that kind of look once...shining in a very particular set of ruddy-pink eyes.
Riveted, Takemichi went through the rest of the photos as if in a trance. The photographs retained the same theme but the angles and the subjects' poses had changed—becoming even closer, more intimate—their expressions so soft and deeply passionate that Takemichi actually felt ashamed for even looking at them like this.
There was a story between them, one as old as time and as vivid and essential as the first touch of spring on winter ice, but whatever was going on between Mikey and this woman wasn't meant for his eyes or anyone else's. And once Takemichi finally reached the last two photos, he froze and immediately looked away, his face burning. It was too much, too sensual, too theirs.
Naoto scoffed. "What are you, twelve?"
Takemichi's red face turned a shade darker in annoyance. "Sh-shut up! He was just a kid when I last saw him, okay!?" He stuffed the pictures back in the envelope and shook it as he handed them over to Naoto. "And what is this? It's like whoever took these is trying to be a cinematographer or something!"
The younger man snatched the envelope back with a taut sigh while Takemichi continued, the blush steadily fading away in the rise of more questions. "That was Mikey-kun, right? But who's he with?"
Naoto's stern frown turned hesitant, as if there was something he was trying to solve but wasn't willing to disclose just yet. He turned to place the envelope back on the shelf, not looking at the older male as he replied, "Her name is Yunagi Reiya. She's a civilian who used to play the violin in middle school. And as you can see, she's someone who's intimately involved with Sano. Because of that, she was assaulted in her apartment and was stabbed by a member of his own gang."
"What? But Mikey-kun's the leader!" Takemichi exclaimed, alarmed. "Why would they attack her knowing she's—" he broke off, his expression settling with a stifling realization. "Wait. Did she…Did she know who he was?"
The woman, Yunagi, had looked completely relaxed in Mikey's arms. From that alone Takemichi figured that she must've felt safe with him—holding on as if she didn't want to let go—but it was unclear whether she didn't know who he was or that she already did and had accepted all of him. Takemichi honestly didn't know which route would've been better but then Naoto looked at him then, and he instantly understood that it wouldn't have mattered because the outcome would've been the same either way.
"No. And no one was supposed to know about them. But Kisaki did somehow and had made arrangements to get rid of her. Apparently, whatever influence she had on Sano was bad for business."
Takemichi shot up in his seat, fingers clutching at his knees. "Is she still alive?" He forced the question out, wanting the answer to be "Yes" so badly he was holding his breath to will it as such. Their situations might've been completely different but Yunagi reminded him a little too much of Hina—both of them innocent, both of them underserving of the harm that Toman had dealt them with.
"Yes," Naoto finally said and Takemichi released a quiet sigh, letting the waves of relief ease the tension from his chest. "She was wounded, but she's recovering in the hospital as we speak. It'd been a close call, however. If it weren't for her brother showing up in the nick of time, she might've died from severe blood loss."
The revelation brought him chills. Takemichi hunched over in thought as he pieced the information together, forming a comprehensible puzzle. Yunagi got hurt because of her connection with Mikey. Kisaki hurt her, Toman hurt her. And now Tokyo was a hellscape.
"So she's the root of the Toman Cherry Incident," Takemichi concluded slowly, feeling the need to vocalize it somehow.
There was a weight in his stomach, forged with a somber sense of compassion. He identified with Mikey's purpose; that desperate drive and single-minded desire to do anything for the person he cherished the most. And for a man with Mikey's power, with who he had become, this outcome was only inevitable.
'But why a cherry?'
"She is," Naoto confirmed, sounding severe once more, distracting Takemichi from his thoughts. "But she's not important right now. The point of all this is that Toman never would've turned out this way if Kisaki and Sano hadn't met. They're of the same kin, their souls colored with the same kind of black. They can't be reasoned with anymore."
With his arms braced atop his thighs, Takemichi regarded the younger man with a steady gaze. He understood Naoto's rage, had felt it as his own when Toman took Hina's future away from her. But even so…
"Even so…I want to talk to Mikey-kun," Takemichi said. As short as their time together had been, he had faith in the blond. He saw firsthand how he was not an evil person at heart, and his noble convictions of wanting to create a new age for delinquents in honor of his older brother couldn't have been a lie. Which was why Takemichi couldn't let this go.
Just as he vowed to change the future for Hina, he would get to the bottom of why his newfound friend had changed. And if Mikey was still able to smile like that, was still capable of feeling that way for someone, then there was still hope.
"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Naoto demanded, gaping at him with emerging fury.
"He's someone we can trust," Takemichi insisted. "Mikey-kun isn't heartless. You've seen how he was in those pictures, it's not too late! I know it's dangerous, but I need to meet him in person and talk to him. I want to know why Toman changed and I need to hear that from Mikey-kun himself."
Takemichi stood, bringing a hand to make a fist. His bright blue eyes met Naoto's grayish blue ones, unblinking as he held them. "I want to know before I go back to the past again. So please, Naoto...I need your help."
The younger male contemplated him for one long, vehement moment. Finally, with a sigh heavily imbued in concession, Naoto put his hands on his hips and said, "I don't know what happened in the past but you've changed, Takemichi-kun."
The older male's face went blank with curiosity. "Really? Like how?" He followed Naoto to the desk, waiting for the reply as the latter opened his laptop.
"You look more reliable now," Naoto answered, sparing him a fleeting smile across his shoulder. "Well, at least a little bit."
Astonished but undeniably pleased, Takemichi asked, "D-do you mean I'm cool now? You think I'm awesome!?"
"You get carried away way too easily," Naoto carped. He sat in his chair, his eyebrows lowering in dawning dismay. "I'll help, but attempting to contact Sano isn't going to be an easy task, Takemichi-kun. He's an extremely meticulous criminal. For years the MPD has been trying to track him down but he always finds a way to disappear right under our noses. In fact, we were only able to find him again after two years because of Yunagi-san. If she hadn't been involved, who knows how long it would take before we can find Sano again. And now considering how he's still out there, waging war against his own gang, trying to pin his location is going to be no different from trying to look for a needle in a haystack."
As Naoto sighed through his nose and rubbed at his nape, Takemichi began to feel guilty and uncertain now that more of the situation was brought to light. He honestly hadn't expected that just trying to get in contact with Mikey would prove to be so difficult. Had he ended up asking for too much after all?
"Isn't there another way?" he found himself inquiring, at first unsure but now growing increasingly emboldened. "Like…like how about through another member? We can send a message through them! That's possible, right?"
"It's not impossible," Naoto allowed with furrowed brows. "But it's not easy, either. Toman is still at war, remember? I doubt any of their members are just dithering around waiting for us to ask for their help."
"Argh." Takemichi clutched at his hair. "Just when is it going to end?!"
Naoto turned in his chair, giving him a pointed look. "After Kisaki dies, obviously. But it's strange…He's not doing anything in this so-called war."
He crossed his arms and cradled his chin in thought, and watching him—with the way his gray-blue eyes began to spark with a calculative zeal for justice—Takemichi had the inkling of what kind of policeman Naoto must've appeared to other people; as someone who was respected, and maybe even feared.
"All this time it's just been Sano going on a rampage," Naoto was saying. "Based on what we've gathered so far, Kisaki is yet to make his move. But I'm of the idea that perhaps his non-appearance is the move. As much as I hate to admit this, Kisaki has always been one crafty bastard. Always one step ahead of everybody else. And in this incident, it seems to me that he has a purpose for deliberately staying off the grid."
He looked at Takemichi, his face dark and certain beyond doubt.
"It's not that he's afraid of the carnage. It's that he's letting it."
Baffled but interested despite himself, Takemichi asked, "Why?"
It was disbelieving to think that Kisaki, alleged shadow leader who practically raised Toman to its present status, would allow for it to fall apart without some form of intervention. In the first place, why would he even dare to harm a single hair on Yunagi's head, knowing how much she meant to Mikey?
But Naoto only frowned and turned away, looking angry and lost but resigned—hopelessly resigned. It imparted how he must've reached a dead end. Or was perhaps left with a veritable truth he would rather forget.
"I think it's because of my sister," Naoto muttered, but it was too low for the older male to hear.
Takemichi drew closer. "What?"
Naoto let out a quick whiff and looked at him again with a different look in his eyes. "Going back on track, there's actually someone I know who can help us."
Takemichi eagerly seized on the notion, instantly pushing his doubts aside. "Really? Who?"
At that, Naoto's gaze turned wry. "Yunagi-san's little brother. As it happens, he's a Toman member."
"Eh!?" The casual disclosure had Takemichi staggering to comprehend the connection. Yunagi and Toman, and now Toman and her brother. Did she meet Mikey through him? Or did her brother become involved because of her? The questions bubbled in his mind with the heat of urgency but he knocked them down, focusing back on the matter at hand. "Let's talk to him. Maybe he knows something!"
Naoto shook his head. "It's no use. At least, not now. He's been unreachable before but I recently managed to get in contact with him four days ago. Or I suppose, it's more suitable to say he got in contact with me," he divulged, his expression flattening in that morose way Takemichi had come to identify as his trademark detective-in-the-works look. "That kid definitely knows something. He said he's already retired from the gang but is willing to talk. Unfortunately, he's currently unavailable right now in light of the Toman Cherry Incident."
"So he's laying low?" Takemichi assumed.
"Most likely. And considering he's still a highschooler—"
Takemichi gaped. 'A highschooler!?'
"—it's for the best that we withhold any contact when the situation is yet to lose any of its heat." Heaving a sigh, Naoto latched onto his laptop and declared, "For the time being, let's try to find another way on our own, Takemichi-kun. You start with those documents right over there. I need you to organize them."
The abrupt dismissal caused Takemichi to feel as though a pair of unseen hands forcefully set him back on his heels. But as dissatisfied as he was, he complied and began sorting through the files that Naoto directed him to (at this point in his second life, he'd take being productive over mulling over questions that only resulted to more any day).
An hour passed with the two of them engrossed in companionable workplace solicitude, the silence occasionally interrupted by Takemichi's rueful side comments and Naoto's occasional insights and clipped variations of "get back to work", until a breakthrough finally came in the appearance of one Atsushi Sendo.
Twelve years is but a drop in the ocean called friendship. No matter how much it ebbs, no matter how far it goes, it'll always stay as this vast and constant thing.
Or at least, that's what Takemichi had hoped for when he and Naoto sallied forth to the heart of the city just to see Akkun. It'd been a fantastical touch of fate to discover Akkun's middle school phone number was still active, and even more so when the man himself answered. It had been impossible to describe the relief, the comfort, and the excitement Takemichi felt the moment he heard Akkun's voice. He sounded older, changed, wearied by an invisible weight but it was still him, still Akkun. Yet at the same time, Takemichi also felt the suffocating barbs of anxiety, pushing up from his chest to his throat until the moment he finally saw his old friend, the tightness gradually collapsing into relief. Akkun had looked exactly like how he sounded on the phone but he was smiling, smiling, happy to see him, and…
Takemichi could've wept. Akkun was alive and unscathed and safe in the midst of Toman's civil war, and with him he was a teenager again, the two of them suspended but content as they drifted through a peaceful sea of memories, anchored in the present atop a hollow, high-end establishment, once a posh Toman retreat but no longer so. Now it was nothing more but a charred, rag-boned building surrounded by rivers of yellow cordon strings below the streets in the wake of Mikey's deadly crusade. A burned-out shell of its former self, just like the man who used to oversee it.
He'd been in hiding ever since, Akkun confessed, unable to put off the elephant in the room any longer. Not when he'd barely gotten away with his life and from there, the calm waters became rapids. The refuge becoming a stage for a grave.
"The one who pushed you onto the train tracks…was me."
At first, Takemichi didn't understand. But inside he was acutely aware of his stomach sinking, every single one of his senses turning numb. The wind howled between them with harrowing force but he didn't even feel it. He didn't even blink.
Akkun continued, pained but unflinching as he unveiled the truth, the cruelty, the impossibility of how Takemichi was still alive and how that came to be. And Takemichi honestly didn't know what shocked him more—the betrayal or the conclusion Akkun had drawn. With it being time travel, of all things.
"It's insane, right!? But it's true, isn't it? Otherwise it doesn't make sense! You went back in time! How else can you explain it!?"
Akkun grabbed him then, as if he could somehow shake the truth out of him, make him see like he was convincing both of them but Takemichi pushed him away, staring at him in horror, in disbelief. Desperation snapped inside of him, emerging as frustration when he attempted to bargain with his friend—with himself—that no, the Akkun he knew would never do that. The friend who always had his back would never betray him like that. And he wanted it so much to be true his eyes leaked in supplication, surging forth from the cracks in his heart where every shattered piece still believed in his friend, even if he turned out to be one of Kisaki's.
Toman's soldier or not he was still Akkun, Mizo Mid Five's voice of reason. And Akkun, the voice guiding him now.
"Mikey changed after Draken died."
Takemichi froze, his lungs turning inside out. "Draken died!?"
"He wasn't supposed to, but he ended up biting the dust. Mikey's never been the same since and now I'm living off of dirty money, about to become his next target."
Akkun climbed unto the parapet, deliberately unconcerned and even serene as he stood over the edge with his hands in his jeans, the hazy combination of neon lights and ashy air pollution framing his lackadaisical figure.
"I've heard he was changing, though..." Akkun said before cracking a quick laugh. "Hell, this war is proof. You must've heard about a woman named Yunagi, right?"
Takemichi straightened. Inclined his head. "Y-yeah. She's Mikey-kun's girlfriend?"
"Maybe." Akkun shrugged. "I don't know much about her, actually. Only that she used to be a violinist, and that she managed to become the most precious thing in the world to Mikey in just a short amount of time. Meeting her…"
A smile entered Akkun's voice, one that sounded small but turned wide and appreciative when he gave it to Takemichi.
"Must've reminded him what it was like to need the light again, huh?"
He turned back once more, drawing even closer by the edge and Takemichi took a step forward. There was an unsettling ease in Akkun's actions, a wanton recklessness he didn't like.
"A-Akkun…what are you doing? Get down from there."
"You know…I've always looked up to you," Akkun shared, effortlessly composed in contrast to Takemichi's forced one. "You'd cry but you'd hold your ground. Even if you ended up losing in the end, you'd go down swinging." He turned his head for a moment, speaking again without really looking at him, his voice hauntingly calm. "I understand now, Takemichi. The one you want to save and go back in the past for…is that person."
There was a comforting touch of familiarity in the words, showing the part of Akkun that always saw Takemichi for who he was, the part that always understood. The dark-haired male tried to draw close but his legs remained locked, as though they'd been encased in lead. Akkun was right there and yet he was beginning to feel far away. Becoming untouchable, unreachable.
"It's dangerous up there," Takemichi tried again, the edges of his calm shaking in suspension. "Get down."
But Akkun only dipped his chin, appearing not to hear anything. "That's real love right there." He chuckled, and the way he'd released it—weakly, regretfully—alerted Takemichi like nothing before that night.
Akkun grinned. And in that heart-stopping moment, Takemichi thought he had never seen his friend smile so bright, the tears in his eyes shining like crystals.
What a relief it must be. Ending things on one's terms.
"I'm rooting for you, Takemichi. Please save everyone…Our crybaby hero."
The only thing worse than knowing someone had died was to see it happen for yourself. When all you could do was watch and let it happen. How could you, you'd ask yourself. And a part of you would always laugh, would always weep, both times bitter and other times simultaneous, because you already knew why and it was because there was nothing else you could've done.
Nothing.
For days Takemichi was under a fog. All-encompassing, blocking out everything in sight save for that tiny, tiny flame that he could somehow turn this whole thing around. The future had no place for him anymore and it was a future he no longer wanted to be a part of. So he clung to that stubborn, burning hope, and Naoto stoked that flame, shedding light on the path he must tread to attain that perfect solution. All to save everyone.
And so Takemichi set off to the past where as it happened, the one he needed to save first the most was himself.
"No kissing," the girl over him practically purred. She looked to be around his age, a bombshell blonde who had stripped down into nothing more but her lacey blue undergarments, and she meant business.
Needless to say, Takemichi escaped the first chance he got. He ran screaming for his life, bumping into the one girl he was a hair's breadth away from cheating on and the one person he hadn't expected to meet.
"My treasured best friend from cram school, Yunagi Reiya," Hina introduced, and Takemichi all but squawked in disbelief.
This time, the first thing he noticed was her height. Yunagi was taller than he expected—about just as tall as he was—and definitely younger from how she appeared in the photographs, her features formed with a touch of youthful softness and the iridescent warmth of a moonlit summer, her long black hair now cut short in a layered bob.
What he also didn't expect was how she was even lovelier in person, her figure curvy but neat with her voice and manner being just as refined. And when she smiled and slipped a lock of lustrous midnight behind one ear, presenting her dimple and the tell-tale form of her bright and glinting cherry earring for all to see, Takemichi immediately understood why the symbol mattered so much to Mikey.
For a second he saw two versions of the same shape merging over the other before his eyes—one polished and glittering, while the other was jagged and bloody. In that moment everything about Yunagi had Takemichi gripped in a tight hold of disbelief. Such a nice and perfectly cultured girl, and yet she became involved with the terrifying Toman in the future, absolutely oblivious to the horrors committed in her name.
How she even met Mikey was beyond him but the more Takemichi observed her, the more he saw how Yunagi was proving to be an anomaly. She had this magnetic stare, the considerate and incisive kind that gave Takemichi the sense of being in the presence of an adult, and she showed neither fear nor hesitation when they went to Musashi Shrine and came face to face with the middle school Toman. He had been puzzled yet grateful that she went with them for Hina's sake, but he had been on edge as well for he knew that she and Mikey would undoubtedly meet that night.
Nevertheless amidst the nerves, Takemichi had wanted to see how the two would interact. How would their current selves react to each other? These two who had become so much more to the other in the days that were lost, but also in a time that was undeniably theirs.
But it appeared that the pair had already met before that night because the connection was instant—the attraction indisputable, palpable—so potent that none of them dared to intrude. But where there was interest, there was also the hesitation. Mikey, for his part, seemed to be in the process of figuring out how well she'd fit—or not—in his world of constant peril. And Yunagi, for whatever reason outside the fact that the blond was commandeering the most notorious gang in Shibuya, seemed to be holding back.
They were a pair that struck Takemichi as odd—the gang leader and the violinist—but they'd been an endearing sight. So strange and endearing that Takemichi ended up blurting it out to Naoto right after they came in contact with Osanai, the two of them joined with one more unlikely playmaker in their unplanned symposium.
"Are you certain? Are you sure!?" Naoto drew close and all but infringed on his personal space, his face bearing the most intense but baffled onto-something look Takemichi had ever seen.
"Yunagi-san showed up at the shrine after knowing Toman would be there? And she's already close to Sano?"
"Uh…Yeah?" Takemichi replied in the same way he'd say 'Uh…Duh?' He shrugged. "That's what I just said. And not like close, close. But the spark's there, you know?"
Naoto swung away from him, his arms crossed, his features scrunched in deep thought. After an eon, he faced the older male again and asked, "This is the first time you've encountered her, correct? And the first time she'd done something as strange as that?"
"Yep. That night I returned to the past. I was even surprised to learn she was best friends with Hina." Takemichi narrowed his eyes with half-hearted scorn. "She said they've been friends since first year middle school. You never told me!"
"Ah, that…" Naoto looked apologetic. "Forgive me, Takemichi-kun. I didn't think it was relevant at the time, and I certainly didn't think she'd do something so out of character."
"What do you mean?" Takemichi asked, now thoroughly intrigued.
Naoto gestured for him to take a seat on the couch as he went to the desk, half-sitting on it as he regarded the older male with his trademark detective look.
"Tell me about your impression of her first."
"Uh, well…She definitely gave me the prim Ojou-san type vibes. You know, the type of girl who wouldn't want anything to do with delinquents and would rather pretend they didn't exist?"
Naoto nodded. "What else?"
"Well, she was actually really nice, and pretty cool. She didn't think twice about standing up for other people even if she was at a disadvantage," Takemichi listed off. A growing smile softened his face. "She's kinda like Hina...and Hina likes her a lot. They get along really well and Yunagi-san is very protective of her. For that alone, she has my respect."
Naoto nodded again but this time slowly, his gaze softening with agreement. However, the knot between his eyebrows remained.
"It's still so strange, however. The Yunagi-san of the past would never willingly put herself in a dangerous situation, even if she is similar to my sister in some ways. And contrary to my sister and Yunagi-san's future self she would never willingly date a delinquent, either. Which is smart of her, I must add."
Holding his chin, Naoto ignored Takemichi's fuming glares at the indirect jabs as he carried on. "That's largely due to Yunagi-san's upbringing as well. Her mother was the strict type from what I've heard. Moreover, she aspires to be a professional violinist. I remember how she used to tell my sister many times in the past of how, as musicians, they should always take care not to get themselves into trouble. A musician's fingers are their life, she would say. That's why, the fact that she went to Musashi Shrine with you while knowing you'd be meeting with Toman is unprecedented behavior, no matter if she said it was for my sister's sake."
Takemichi wore a bewildered frown, feeling the need to defend Yunagi somehow. She only acted out of concern for Hina. Why was Naoto being so suspicious? "I think you're reading way too much into this, Naoto. They're best friends. And to be honest, I had no idea we'd be meeting the whole gang that night so I was actually relieved Yunagi-san came along in the end. She was just concerned."
"So you say. But that—"
The doorbell rang, the unanticipated noise making the two men pause, their attentions getting pulled to the door.
"Were you expecting someone?" Takemichi couldn't help but ask. At first curious, but then he saw how Naoto's eyes had narrowed, and a cold feeling began to settle in his stomach.
The young detective went to the door, silent and cautious. Takemichi followed but he dallied by the threshold that separated Naoto's office to the rest of the apartment, his position allowing him to survey the mysterious visitor while giving him time to hide at the same time, just in case it turned out to be someone neither of them would extend a warm welcome to.
The doorbell rang again, followed by eight consecutive raps sounding off to the rhythm of an impatient allegro, and for some reason Naoto became visibly relaxed. He huffed and opened the door.
"And I thought you wouldn't show up."
Takemichi would've asked who Naoto was expecting but he ducked and retreated sideways once the visitor waltzed right in with the presence of a cool summer air. He looked to be a teenager although he was remarkably tall, had gleaming silver hair, and an unexpectedly jaded look in his firm green eyes, his worldly manner further solidified by the glint of black diamond piercings in both of his ears.
"'Scuse the lateness," he greeted, his voice glacial smooth. "Wasn't easy comin' here I'll have you know."
"I know," Naoto responded, giving him a terse nod.
Takemichi perked up at the words. 'So Naoto-kun contacted him beforehand? Who is this guy? Why is he here?' He peered closer and took note of what the teen was wearing; an oversized red hoodie, black capri pants with cargo pockets, white shoes, and a huge pair of glasses that couldn't have had any functionality whatsoever other than as an accessory. A disguise.
"And who're you?" the teenage visitor suddenly asked and Takemichi flinched, realizing that the query—which had been practically a snarl—was aimed straight at him.
'So much for being discreet,' he wallowed.
"Ah, that's Hanagaki Takemichi," Naoto supplied, effectively clearing the tension before it could grow. "He's someone I'm working with on a particular case." He turned to the oldest in the room. "Takemichi-kun, this is Natsukage Taito. He's the little Toman member brother I told you about."
The older male's blue eyes grew wide in open astonishment. 'That's Yunagi-san's little brother!? They sure look nothing alike...'
"Can you not word it like that? Sound's weird as shit," the silverhead remarked, blatantly ignoring Naoto's irate "Language!" as he added, "Besides, like I already told you, there ain't anything worth stickin' around in the gang for so I booked it."
He fixed his gaze on Takemichi and strode to stop right in front of him, looking him up and down in a way that had the older male gulping.
'H-holy crap...He's even taller up close! He's just like Draken-kun!'
"Ya don't look like a cop," Taito deadpanned with a slitted eye.
'Ack! And he's sharp, too!'
"That's because he isn't. He's an important witness," Naoto explained just as Takemichi turned his head to seek his aid, which was obviously the only plausible lie to cover who he was.
"So an outsider," the teen deduced lowly before spinning away, his gaze automatically catching Naoto's. "I caught you at a bad time, then."
In that moment, a noncommittal purpose formed behind Naoto's gray-blue eyes. His gaze moved from Taito to Takemichi's in a thoughtful swerve, his eyes seeming to tell him some sort of tacit scheme before he glanced back at Taito and said, "On the contrary…you came at just the right time, Natsukage-kun. We were just discussing your sister."
A startling change came over Taito. He drew up to his full height, eyes darting over the two men as if he was suddenly in enemy territory. "Hah? How's my sister's case relevant to this guy's?" he demanded.
The upsurge in temper was alarming. But upon looking closely, Takemichi noticed a nuance in Taito's hostility. He had seen it in his friends' eyes whenever they were outnumbered in a fight, especially in Akkun's; that indignant flare to protect one's own.
"Calm down," Naoto replied with a hard look of his own. "As it happens, Takemichi-kun used to date my sister."
Taito's glare instantaneously turned dubious. "This guy?" he asked, throwing Takemichi a bewildered glance.
'What the—?' The oldest male bristled. 'This kid's a bully isn't he!?'
"That's right," Naoto said, his stance calm and unyielding. "Surely you understand the connection, especially in light of the recent Toman incident."
Hearing that, some of the tension left Taito's shoulders. "Right," he murmured, suddenly looking abject in a way that lent some softness to his rough edges. He looked from Takemichi to Naoto, and lowered his head in a meaningful bow. "I'm sorry. You have my deepest condolences."
Takemichi subsided, silently appreciating the sentiment while Naoto drew a soft sigh, returning the teen's formality with a short nod. "Thank you. Now, let's get down to business."
They moved to Naoto's office where he got each of them a chilled bottle of barley tea. 'Cheapskate,' Takemichi accused. Naoto never got him one of these when it was just them two. He kept his petty quibbling to himself, going back to sitting down on the couch while Naoto leaned one hip against the desk. Taito lingered by the doorframe, his eyes roaming around—becoming even more intent as they perused the pictures on the wall and the many stacks of confidential documents dotting the small room—until they eventually fell on Naoto.
There was a mystified gleam in that wise-beyond-his-years stare...like he was confronting a mystery he was currently in the process of getting the answers to.
"So." Taito slipped his glasses up the bridge of his nose and leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. He posed to open his drink. Then he nodded off to Takemichi. "I'm guessing he's got ties to Toman, too? Otherwise you wouldn't have told him about me at all."
Takemichi stiffened while Naoto remained calm. "More or less," the latter said.
"Huh," Taito uttered casually. But there was nothing casual in the way he was looking at the two of them now. "Alright then. So what d'ya want from me? If it's about Toman I'm not sure I can help when I ain't even a member anymore. I got no ties with the higher-ups and I'm not even directly involved in their flashy operations."
'So we can't ask him about Mikey-kun's whereabouts after all,' Takemichi thought, feeling the slightest bit dejected. Then, suddenly curious, he went ahead and asked, "What kind of things are you usually involved in?"
"Simple errands, mostly," Taito answered without missing a beat. "You know how a tree has a branch and a branch has a bunch of other branches? Well I'm a leaf." He flashed a mocking smile as he twisted the cap off his drink. "You'd be surprised at how most of them mid-tier dogs just want a posse. Simply showing up was basically the highlight of what I do."
'That's not surprising at all,' Takemichi ruefully discerned as he took a swig from his own bottled barley tea, remembering Kiyomasa and his flunkies all of a sudden.
"Why did you choose to become a Toman member?" It was Naoto who questioned him this time, and neither Taito nor Takemichi missed how it wasn't born out of curiosity like the latter's in spite of his relaxed demeanor.
But just as well, for Takemichi wanted to know the answer. The silverhead was still a teenager with his whole life ahead of him, and he certainly wasn't a simple hoodlum even though he was one. On the other hand, he was also Yunagi's little brother—why they carried different surnames was a question for another day—and his answer to Naoto's question might just shine the light on Takemichi's other concerns involving this brother-sister pair.
Taito didn't respond right away, instead letting the question bleed into the silence, thickening it. He brought the bottle to his mouth, his eyes settled solely on Naoto.
"Probably the same reason why you became a police officer, Tachibana-san."
A short pause. Nothing moved save for the drop of precipitation sliding down from Naoto's unopened drink.
"You didn't answer my question."
Taito shrugged as he drank. He lowered the bottle, swiping at his wet mouth with a fist. "It was an in my rebellious phase thing. Besides, I liked the bragging rights. Nobody would dare to mess with you if they knew you were rolling with the Toman."
Naoto's gaze moved down to his own drink, finally giving it some attention as he took surreptitious care in loosening the cap. "That's right," he said, his tone light and deceptively unpretentious. "Toman is so dangerous that not even the police can stop them. Now I just found it strange, Natsukage-kun...that you would claim to use your connections with Toman to 'brag' when according to my findings, you would usually take painstaking measures to cover up your affiliation with the gang."
A strange tension fell over the room. Taito didn't react, holding Naoto's gaze over the bottle as he took his first sip, and this must be how Takemichi imagined it'd feel like if he was watching a high-stakes game take place inside of a gaming club, where both players refused to show their cards just yet.
"That's because my parents didn't know I joined Toman," Taito answered carefully. "Not even my sister knew. If they did, I'd be putting them in danger."
Naoto's face turned sardonic. "Then you shouldn't have joined in the first place."
The teen grew wary at that, like some feral young facing the threat of a cage. "Didn't I just tell you the reason? I'm not even a member anymore so I'd appreciate it if you quit grillin' me about it," Taito shot back, the last word nearly ending on a growl. "It was just a dumb phase, alright? And before you'd ask if I knew my sister was gonna wine and dine and make googly eyes with the boss when I first joined then the answer's no. 'Cause shit's weird and unexpected even to me." He tipped his head back and committed to emptying his barley tea in earnest.
The room fell silent then. An impasse.
"Um, so...H-how's Yunagi-san doing? She's still in the hospital, right?
Both heads turned to Takemichi. Seeing their flinty stares he began to think that maybe he shouldn't have said anything, but a beat later and he knew he'd done right when the corners of Taito's tight-set mouth had loosened, his glare turning a little soft.
'I knew it! He likes his sister, too.'
On the outside, Takemichi gave a smiling nod and said "That's good," when the silver-haired teen finally shared that Yunagi was fine and doing well.
But on the inside, Takemichi was wry with the awareness that he'd somehow found himself in the presence of two siscons.
He cast a quick glance towards a stone-faced Naoto, who caught his meaning. The young detective simply closed his eyes, sipping from his drink again in a dismissive permission granted sort of way, and so Takemichi returned his gaze on Taito, who had momentarily looked down in sullen reflection.
Takemichi readied himself. The teen had practically closed himself off to Naoto's questioning and now it was up to him to get more information.
"So, Natsukage-kun..."
Taito looked up.
"How are you feeling about all this?" he ventured. "I-I mean, you're still in highschool. It must've been surprising—"
The teen flashed a hand his way, looking completely blasé. "You don't gotta patronize me, Hanagaki-san. If you wanna know something, just ask."
The older male gave a weak laugh. 'This kid doesn't pull his punches.' "O-okay, then…Well, I guess what I wanted to know was how Yunagi-san got close to Mikey-kun in the first place."
Taito arched a brow, popping up at the mention of Mikey's name and for a moment Takemichi thought he was going to ask that, until he opened his mouth to say, "Tachibana-san here didn't tell ya?"
"My case is separate from Yunagi-san, so Naoto didn't give me the details. All I know was from seeing pictures of them and—"
"Wait," Taito interrupted incredulously. "What pictures?"
"Ah, well—"
"These."
Surprisingly, Naoto got out of his way extending the brown catalog envelope containing said pictures to Taito, and the silverhead wasted no time in looking over its contents. He quietly shuffled through the photographs, his face ranging from alarm to intrigue and then finally embarrassment. He briefly looked up to say, "The fuck? Were they tryin' to make a movie when they took these?" before finishing on looking at the rest.
But completely unlike Takemichi, who couldn't bear to look for too long when he saw the last two photos, Taito had a much calmer reaction. The blush in his cheeks diminished, and a solemn sense of contentment steadied his features.
"You know…If you'd told me years ago that a guy was gonna go full-on psycho on a bunch of people for my sister I'd be interested, but I'd deadass call ya nuts. I wouldn't even think to put her and Toman in the same sentence, much less her and Toman's boss in one picture. But looking at these now…"
With a hapless smile, Taito lifted the stack in a swift and aimless wave, not really looking at either of the men before his sharp green eyes suddenly cut to Takemichi.
"This's what it's all about, Hanagaki-san." He flipped the photographs to show the one presenting the couple in each other's arms; their foreheads pressed with Mikey's hand on Yunagi's cheek. "This is what happened between Mikey-san and my Nee-chan. Two people found each other and they thought; to hell with everything else."
"Do you approve then?" Naoto asked. His tone was light but threaded with steel. And whether or not he genuinely wanted to know where the teen stood it was clear that Naoto himself already had an opinion, and would not be swayed anytime soon.
Taito stared at him, looking dumbfounded for a second.
And then he laughed and Takemichi was surprised to admit; genuine laughter suited the kid.
"Hell no!" Taito exclaimed with a huge grin. He huffed and shook his head, his smile eroding as he looked at the pictures again. "The whole thing's fucked up, and up until now I didn't get it—why it had to be Mikey-san, a gang leader, of all people. I just don't get what she saw in him."
Naoto went forward and looked like he had something to say to that but Taito wasn't finished. He met eyes with Takemichi before shifting his gaze to Naoto, his expression calm and shrewd.
"But I was wrong. It's not just because of what my Nee-chan saw in Mikey-san. If there's one thing these pictures proved to me, it's all because of what Mikey-san saw in her."
Taito left not soon after that due to a sudden phone call from his father, and was unable to give Takemichi the in-depth story of just how Mikey and Yunagi met. He turned to Naoto for the details then but the younger male had been unsettlingly pensive the entire time.
And once they were finally alone, Naoto immediately pronounced, "He's hiding something."
Takemichi lifted a brow. "Why do you think so? Natsukage-kun was being pretty cooperative to me."
Naoto stopped from pacing around the small bounds in his office. He glanced at him, frowning in mounting frustration. "Didn't you find it weird? He didn't even ask us anything! And he was lying about Yunagi-san doing okay."
The realization almost had Takemichi reeling backwards. Thinking on it, the teen had been a little too willing considering he'd have to know what the summons was going to be. Which could only mean one thing.
"Y-you mean..." Takemichi started, his insides weighed in dread. "This whole time...the one who got all the information he could get...wasn't either of us? And what do you mean he was lying?"
Naoto paused and threw him a look, and Takemichi paled with the understanding of why he'd kept quiet and let him ask Taito about his older sister's condition.
Goddamn it. Did he just turn himself into bait back then?
Not that Takemichi was mad at the young detective for using him as the forward piece, exactly. But knowing you'd been used while being entirely clueless about the big picture wasn't exactly flattering to anyone's ego.
"What do you mean?" Takemichi asked again, this time with a little heat. "Lying about Yunagi-san doing okay? Why would Natsukage-kun do that? What are you talking about, Naoto?"
The younger between the two dropped in his chair. He looked tired all of a sudden, the bags beneath his eyes more prominent than ever. But when he held Takemichi's gaze, his pools of gray-blue were gleaming, razor-sharp.
"She's been in a coma for almost two weeks now."
Takemichi lowered his brows at him, looking utterly confused. "But…she was assaulted, right? In her apartment?"
"Yunagi-san woke up the next day after the surgery. In the first place, it wasn't an injury that'd normally result in a coma."
The room became cold then. The air heavy, hard to take in all of a sudden.
"Yesterday, I went to the hospital to check on her," Naoto revealed, appearing much calmer now that the older male seemed to share his disquiet. "I thought I could finally get the chance to talk to her, but according to the staff she hasn't been awake since the eighth of July."
Takemichi held still in shock.
Yunagi. In a coma.
Since the eighth of July.
The words kept on ringing in his head, turning a few rusty gears in the shadowy recesses of his mind. Takemichi met Yunagi on the eve of July twentieth and according to Naoto, what she'd done that night wasn't something her past self would normally do.
"It's strange, I know," Naoto said, accurately reading his thoughts from his facial expression alone. "Yunagi-san's case is different from ours, but there's a connection there that I've been trying to figure out ever since I found out that she hasn't been waking up." He scratched at his hair and sighed, stood up with his hands on his hips. "I have a hypothesis, Takemichi-kun. But you're going to have to do something for me."
It'd been a strange but simple enough request; "Just observe."
That was all Naoto had asked of Takemichi on top of saving Draken's life on the fast-approaching August the third. Frustratingly, he hadn't disclosed just what his brow-raising "hypothesis" was, nor the reason why he'd wanted Takemichi to play secret agent on Yunagi, claiming that the answer would eventually present itself on that fated day.
"If my hunch is right, then Yunagi-san should appear on the third of August," Naoto surmised with the confidence of someone who had bet on a winning hand, and Takemichi just shook his head before shaking his hand.
On an instinctual level, he felt as though he could understand what Naoto was getting at, but the mission at hand and the subsequent resolution of Mikey and Draken's clash along with Toman and Moebius' conflict as a whole, presented indisputable facts of why Yunagi couldn't make it on August third.
But in the midst of Takemichi's uncertain suspicions, Yunagi's unwonted behavior persisted. It drove him to ponder the supposed limits of her anomalous ways. Like how unusual would it be for her to play a song for a bunch of delinquents? For Mikey? How bizarre was it that she showed up in the Battle of 8/3 after all, pulling on the reins and taking charge when Takemichi himself was on the verge of losing hope? And finally, how crazy was it when she mirrored his desperation that night, his dogged determination, as they plowed through the rain?
His qualms kept on building and building, quiet but steady in the back of his mind. And now with everything stable, with Draken safe and alive, the suppressed thoughts scrambled forward with unobstructed transparency.
Yunagi intervened because of her attachment to Mikey.
And while Takemichi might not be the brightest bulb in the box he could tell exactly why she would willingly get herself involved in the blond's dangerous world. The poetic potential growing between her and the Mikey of the past may have only just begun, but it was just as powerful as what their future selves felt for the other. It was the kind of magic that transcended time, existing for eons. As simple yet profound as the gravity that held the world in its place, and Takemichi felt that same magic in him—giving him purpose, giving him strength. Bringing his once melancholic heart alive once more for the girl who saw that potential of everything in him.
He'd do anything to steal back the future that'd been stolen from hers.
And Yunagi…
Her resolve was no less formidable.
Takemichi strode away to join Hina and the others outside the hospital, acknowledging the depth of another objective branching out from his main quest now that it was over. He would find a way to speak with Yunagi, he decided. And whether or not her involvement wasn't just some extraneous attribute directly tied to their future, he'd be able to at least get a few things clear.
AUGUST 02, 2017
Eight consecutive knocks and the door pulled open to reveal a bewildered Naoto. The young policeman looked none too pleased seeing Taito at his door when he still hadn't changed out of his uniform but then again, so was the teen. He went straight to Naoto's apartment right after school, arriving just minutes after the older male himself got back from work.
They weren't done with the other just yet, they both knew that, and both knew they were waiting to see who was going to crack first. Taito would never allow the loss of giving himself away like this—barging in without a plan—but that had been before he knew who Ken-chin was.
"Says here he was a Toman member, Nat-chan. The founding vice-commander at that," Kousuke dictated off his screen, Taito's self-proclaimed guy in the chair with a real flair for anything tech-related.
Without him the silverhead would've struggled in covering his tracks and he would've had an even harder time procuring the necessary materials for his and Reiya's safety net. Although his wily childhood friend drew the line at wire-tapping the MPD's main line of communications and had to be sufficiently motivated with sweets first before getting serious with any of his requests (and holy hell he wasn't cheap).
A name was all Kousuke needed to find someone, and a nickname would mean an even longer time to produce results. Taito didn't know why, but the moniker Ken-chin really stuck. And after looking into who he was, he finally understood why Mikey mentioned him at all.
Because Ken-chin, also known as "Draken" Ryuguji Ken, was the key to preventing Toman from turning into the amoral organization it was to date.
His Nee-chan had no way of knowing that and although Taito knew she was anything but a dumbass, he didn't want to just sit around with his what-ifs. Reiya was still asleep in the present, and he had no way of contacting her except maybe through he who was once a dead man, whose resurrection could only be the result of using the power to alter history.
This could be their only shot and there was no more time to lose. Draken's death would be tomorrow. He had to take the risk, now.
"Natsukage-kun?" Naoto questioned. "What are you—"
"Ken-chin," Taito broke in, wild-eyed and out of breath. "That's Ryuguji Ken, isn't it?"
The older male's knitted brows abruptly loosened in surprise, the quicksilver flick of recognition in his eyes giving Taito exactly what he'd been hoping for.
"And why would you ask me that?" Naoto asked, his confusion settling more and more into grave certainty with every word.
Taito straightened to his full height, holding his ground without blinking. "Let me in and I'll tell you everything I know."
Naoto's jaw tightened. For a moment that was all he did—all tight-lipped in deliberation—but just as Taito had anticipated, the choice was ultimately in his favor.
"All right." Naoto stepped aside to let him in.
The teen immediately crossed over the door with a sigh of mixed relief and annoyance. He charged straight to Naoto's adjacent office, not even waiting for the older male in his rush to get things over with. He heard Naoto call out behind him as he went further inside the heart of the office—a halting warning to wait—but it was far too late.
Taito stopped dead in his tracks.
During his last visit, he hadn't noticed what was being hidden away from sight behind one of the cluttered whiteboards, but now he had an unbarred glimpse of it—of a lone makeshift bed and the sole occupant sleeping above it.
One look, and everything clicked into place.
He whipped around to face Naoto, staggering between shock and conviction.
"I knew it..." Taito spoke, his voice shakingly quiet, hopeful. "You're a Trigger, too."
Naoto didn't deny it. He sighed shortly and gave a smile of resigned forbearance.
"You and I have a lot more to talk about then, Natsukage-kun."