Work Text:
Kantarou woke from a horrible dream, Youko's bloodstained kimono still fresh in his mind as he felt someone shaking his shoulder. In the dark, he could barely make out the familiar face above him.
"Haruka," Kantarou said sleepily. "Do you eat bad dreams, too?"
Haruka slid his hand down Kantarou's chest, pressing his warm palm over Kantarou's scar. "I don't have a tail."
"Mm," Kantarou said, his eyes closing to better picture Haruka with a lion head and tiger feet. "Devour, oh Haruka! Devour my evil dream."
Haruka sighed. "Shut up and go back to sleep."
When Kantarou woke a second time, the sky was light. He yawned and stretched, shuffling his feet under his warm blanket. He could hear Youko making breakfast downstairs in the kitchen. His stomach growled. Reiko no doubt would visit today in order to collect his overdue article. Haruka was probably on the roof by now, staring at the sky with his arms crossed behind his head. Kantarou thought about going back to sleep until someone started yelling.
Haruka had come back yesterday, and for the first time in six months, everything felt normal.
Perhaps it should have occurred to him before now that Haruka might have been trying to kill him last night, but Kantarou couldn't blame himself; he didn't like to think that way, not about death and not about his friends. He didn't have enough friends to spare, especially not friends willing to wake him from nightmares.
Haruka was back. Kantarou was happy.
Kantarou was happy, and he definitely was going back to sleep.
Youko claimed that Kantarou had slept the entire day when she dragged him out of bed for a meeting with his editor, but he felt as if he'd only gotten an hour's rest. He yawned while Reiko was talking, and she nearly climbed over the tea table. "Three children are missing! Don't you care? Aren't you going to help?"
"Of course he is," Youko said, slapping a cup of hot tea in Kantarou's hand. "Drink, Kan-chan. Wake up. Go save the day."
"It's not day," Kantarou mumbled into his cup.
"Go save the night, then," Youko said. She looked up at the ceiling. "Haruka! Are you dressed yet?"
"They disappeared near the river?" Kantarou asked, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He listened to the rest of Reiko's story, doing his best not to let anything slip. The children, he knew, were probably dead. Drowned, and their small bodies swollen with water. No charm or talisman Kantarou would willingly use could bring them back from that. But he could stop it from happening to another child, so he left with Haruka and went to the river Reiko had mentioned, hoping that the river goblin would reveal himself.
Kantarou lifted the flaming torch higher, peering at the bushes and trees growing along the riverbank. He was tired and so his night vision was unreliable, and a weak part of him hoped that Haruka would find the Kappa first. Kantarou doubted that he would be so lucky; he was mistaken for a child with an annoying frequency, and that meant he qualified as tasty Kappa food.
Kantarou could barely see Haruka's torch flickering on the other bank. A cloud passed over the moon, and Kantarou saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward it and saw nothing, but reached for his rosary just to be safe. The smooth beads touched his palm, and Kantarou fell to his knees with pain. He felt ghostly claws slicing his body, digging for the blood-rich vital organs that demons loved to eat. They were facing a strong one tonight.
"Yuck," he groaned as the thick scent of rotting fish filled his nose and painted his tongue. The river goblin crawled from underneath an azalea branch. It was small and hairy, the size of a child, its scaly hide gleaming in the light from Kantarou's torch and its eyes glowing an unnatural red. It charged before Kantarou could do anything, the torch spinning out of his hand as he fell to the ground. He hit his head on a tree root, crying out from the sharp pain and trying to blink the stars from his eyes, but the sky was sliding --
His vision swam, and then Kantarou came back to his head. He was being dragged through the brush. Toward the river, he knew, and once the Kappa got him there he'd be as good as dead.
Kantarou struggled, grasping at the bushes and plants that whipped past him in the dark. He reached blindly, caught a sapling, and cried out again when the rough bark ripped open his palm.
There was a rush of air overhead and the sound of laundry snapping in the wind. "Kantarou!"
"Haruka! Over here!" he called, hugging a rock on the riverbank for all he was worth.
Haruka threw his torch at the Kappa. It screamed and flinched back from the fire, releasing Kantarou's abused ankle. Haruka landed between Kantarou and the river goblin, his wings spread wide and a growl rumbling in his chest.
"It's possessed --" Kantarou tried to explain, but Haruka was already hitting it with his lightning. The creature screamed, convulsing as the lightning crawled over its tiny body. The angry spirit left the goblin, rising into the air like smoke darker than night. The Kappa wobbled on its two legs, yellow eyes open wide.
"What -- what happened? What am I doing here?" it asked.
Kantarou struggled to his feet, nearly falling again when his ankle didn't want to bear his weight. Somehow he kept his balance and bowed deeply, holding himself there until he heard a splash as the water spilled from the shallow cavity atop the Kappa's head. Dazed and nearly powerless now, the Kappa turned away and went back to the river, the turtle shell on its back disappearing into the water without a ripple.
Haruka stood over him, looking human again. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Kantarou said. He took a step and pitched sideways.
"Hmm," Haruka said as he caught Kantarou easily. "I'll carry you."
"I can walk," Kantarou protested weakly, but Haruka paid him no mind. He launched them both into the air, flying up past the trees and into the night sky, warm spring air fluttering through their clothes.
It had been six long months without Haruka. Six long months of working alone, researching alone, going to the bookstore and meeting no one outside when he was done. His house had been full of other people, but Kantarou had known that most of them were there waiting for Haruka to come back just as he was.
Kantarou's ankle throbbed, and his hand burned with pain, blood trickling down his fingers and dripping into the dark. The wind brought tears to his eyes and his spine ached with exhaustion. But none of it mattered, because he wasn't alone anymore.
Kantarou only had time for bandages and a quick nap before another client called on them. She was a frightened woman old enough to be Kantarou's mother, and he couldn't turn her down. One exorcised (and particularly troublesome) Tsukumogami later, Kantarou hobbled back into bed, and this time he was determined to stay there for as long as possible.
Hours later, Kantarou woke to the sound of rustling. Haruka was reading the newspaper, fully dressed and sitting beside him on Kantarou's futon. Haruka had been gone a long time, but Kantarou hadn't thought it had been long enough for Haruka to forget where his room was. After all, Kantarou's room didn't have any shiny knick-knacks on the shelves. His books occupied all the available space.
"Good afternoon," Kantarou said.
Haruka slanted him a glance without turning his face from the newspaper. "Youko was worried."
The skin on Kantarou's cheek felt hot and tight, and right on cue, his head started aching. He could tell that the bruising would be deep and colorful as always, and Kantarou hoped that it healed before Hasumi brought Rosalie for another visit. No doubt Hasumi would take one look and accuse Kantarou of something terrible and perverted, which meant that Kantarou would have to return those accusations, and all the shouting would only make his headache worse.
Kantarou and Hasumi had not had a civil conversation in approximately fifteen years, not since they realized that they both had been trying to impress the same professor and earn the heart of the same young woman. They both had reacted badly, striving to be as different from each other as possible. Spears would fall on them if they ever agreed on any subject again.
The door to his room slid open, and Youko poked in her head. "Ah, you're awake!" She brought in a tray with tea, and Kantarou could tell from the way it smelled that she had borrowed the leaves from their neighbor. "That was one mean possessed tea kettle," Youko said, pouring him a cup. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Kantarou said, taking the cup. "Thank you."
Perhaps it was because the last Tsukumogami he'd met had been so kind that Kantarou had let down his guard. Or perhaps Kantarou had been too busy staring at Haruka to notice the small spasm of pain in his chest and the bells quivering on his wrist. He would admit to the first one if pressed and to the second only if Haruka found it horribly embarrassing.
He sipped his tea. The flavor was strong. Kantarou sighed with pleasure. And nearly dropped his cup when Youko shoved a steamed bun in his bandaged hand and angrily said, "Then be more careful next time!"
She slammed shut the door behind her. Kantarou blinked. Haruka turned a page.
"What was that for?" Kantarou wondered.
Haruka waved his hand, his fingertips smudged with ink. "She doesn't want to spend the rest of her life named 'Youko'."
"Oh," Kantarou said. He looked at the closed door. The bottom corner appeared to be crumpled slightly. She was a strong little fox.
"Kantarou," Haruka said.
"Yes?"
Haruka peered over the top of his newspaper. "Don't die."
Kantarou smiled, forgetting that it would hurt his cheek. "Okay."
"We don't want to get stuck living with Sugino," Haruka explained. "His tree house is cramped, and he only serves bugs."
Kantarou slumped in elaborate dismay and spilled hot tea on his pillow.
Kantarou had slept so much during the day that he didn't sleep at all that night, but he didn't mind because there were always books to read. It was a quiet, windless night: not even the tree crickets sang. Kantarou read newspapers, took notes, and left books open all over his desk and the floor. He was a diligent researcher when he chose to be, when he could use the knowledge to protect people and the monsters who wished to do no harm. Kantarou could read day and night for weeks, and it never would feel like work until an editor gave him a topic and a deadline.
The quiet crept on him, preying on his mind and making the house feel empty. Kantarou stood up and stretched, and wandered his home searching for signs of life.
Kantarou slid open the door to Haruka's room, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. Haruka slept, one arm flung over his head. He really did look like an angel in repose, and Kantarou looked for a long time, feeling content just to see Haruka breathe. Eventually his tired body caused his eyes to droop and his head to tilt, and Kantarou reminded himself that Haruka had promised that he would still be here tomorrow.
He closed the door and turned away only to find Youko watching him speculatively from the end of the hall.
"Ah, Youko," Kantarou said, smiling widely despite feeling as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. "It's late."
"It's almost morning," Youko said.
Kantarou laughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. "Then I should go to sleep."
"Good night, Kan-chan," Youko said.
She didn't move from the hallway. Kantarou said good night hastily and retreated to his room. He pulled out his futon and curled around his tea-stained pillow, and wondered what had happened to the shrine he'd built for Haruka when he was a little boy. It had been a sturdy construction. Kantarou would be willing to bet that it was still standing.
He wanted Haruka to see it, even if Kantarou's entire life meant as little as a drop of water in a rainstorm to a goblin as old as Haruka.
Kantarou paced awkwardly in his office, tapping his finger on his bottom lip and trying to recall where he'd put that book about vampire cats. "Good morning," he said absently when he noticed Haruka slouching in the doorway. "Aha!" He plucked the book he'd been seeking from a jumbled stack at his feet.
"Kantarou," Haruka said, pushing away from the doorframe. He leaned in close, taking Kantarou's bandaged hand. "Your eyes are like winter cherries whose branches are covered in frost."
Kantarou put down his book and leaned even closer. He sniffed. "You don't smell like sake."
Haruka's sigh ruffled Kantarou's hair. "I'm not drunk."
Kantarou frowned and examined Haruka's face for signs of possession even though his bells were quiet. "Are you feeling all right?"
"Kantarou," Haruka whispered, touching the yellowing bruise on Kantarou's face with his fingertips. Haruka closed his eyes and bent down, pressing a kiss to the back of Kantarou's hand; Kantarou could barely feel the warmth and pressure through the bandages. Then Haruka swept his tongue between the first two knuckles on Kantarou's hand. His bare skin tingled.
Kantarou blushed.
"Yes!" Youko shouted from the hallway. "See, Haruka? I told you it would work!"
Haruka looked at him curiously. Kantarou blushed harder and yanked his hand from Haruka's grip.
"You're such a great student!" Youko exclaimed as she came into the room.
"I have an amazing teacher," Haruka said, his voice low and ripe with promise.
Youko's ears popped out, but a moment later she smacked his arm. "Don't use it on me, idiot!"
Kantarou wiped his knuckles on his hakama and limped to his desk, turning his back on the both of them.
"Hey, Kan-chan, don't be angry," Youko said.
Kantarou brandished a talisman with one hand, and with the other he pointed to the door. "Out."
"But Kan-chan --" she protested.
"Youko, out!" Kantarou ordered. She obeyed, grumbling under her breath about childish masters as she went.
He gave all his concentration to the article he'd barely begun researching. It wasn't due until the end of the week, but Kantarou thought it might be fun to see Reiko's face if he was early for once. There was a first time for everything, and really, he hadn't gotten much work done while Haruka had been gone and they could use the money.
After a while Haruka sighed and shifted behind him. "Kantarou..."
Kantarou ignored him. Eventually Haruka left, too.
Kantarou actually was very good at avoiding people when he was serious about it. He had learned the skill early, not very long after he'd begun his schooling and realized that the adults didn't like what he had to say. The other children had liked it even less and punished him when he didn't find ways to disappear. Kantarou knew that he'd said he was through running when Haruka had agreed to come back, but in this he allowed himself an exception.
Many of his colleagues considered him both delusional and a fraud, and although Kantarou acknowledged that perhaps he wasn't the most honest person, he didn't let their low opinion bother him because he'd always known that monsters were real. Insults from strangers meant nothing. He used people for his own just ends, people used him to solve their problems, and in the end, there was balance.
His skin was thinner when it came to his friends. Gentle teasing stung like nettles. Outright mockery hurt worse than the white scar snaking across his chest when an ogre was near. When people he loved were careless with him, Kantarou retreated like a wounded animal, hiding in the dark and snarling at anything that came too close. And if it made certain people feel guilty for hurting him, so much the better.
He kept odd hours and took meals elsewhere, and generally made it very difficult for anyone to speak to him when he could be found at home. It worked perfectly for about five days, until Haruka snapped.
"Um, Haruka?" Kantarou stared down at the roof of his house, which was rapidly dwindling in the distance.
"Yes?"
Kantarou curled his toes on air, wishing Haruka had kept his patience long enough for him to put on his sandals. At least it was nearly summer, so the yukata he'd slept in probably would keep him warm enough once they landed. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere you can't hide," Haruka said.
Kantarou laughed nervously. He decided to enjoy the silence while it lasted and closed his eyes, only opening them again when he felt wet grass tickling his bare feet.
"Oh," he said, shivering. This part of the forest looked familiar.
Haruka crossed his arms and loomed. "Talk."
Resenting Haruka's height, Kantarou gave him a sunny smile and asked in a voice as sweet as strawberry candy, "About what?"
"Why you're angry," Haruka said.
Kantarou continued smiling. "You must be mistaken. I'm not angry."
Wordlessly, Haruka tapped his fist on top of Kantarou's head. Normally it made Kantarou feel warm and wanted, but today Kantarou's feet were cold and he'd missed his morning tea, and that always made him contrary.
"Fine," Kantarou growled, narrowing his eyes. "I'm angry."
Haruka nodded. "I know."
"Why did you do it?" Kantarou demanded.
Haruka shrugged. "Youko thought you'd like it."
Kantarou flushed and clenched his fists. "She thought wrong!"
"Fine," Haruka said, and shrugged again.
Kantarou flailed his arms. "You can't do something like that if you don't mean it!"
"Why not?" Haruka asked.
Kantarou's shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his hand over his heart. "Because it's cruel." Kantarou turned away so he wouldn't have to see any pity on Haruka's face, and he caught sight of something in the bushes. He could see a weathered roof just under the shadows of the leaves, and he moved toward it, pushing aside branches. Kantarou gasped.
"What is it?" Haruka asked.
"It's the shrine I built for you," Kantarou said, kneeling and running his hands over the roof. Dull splinters caught at his skin. "I made it when I was little."
"You're little now," Haruka said.
Kantarou glared at Haruka over his shoulder. "I used to come and talk to you every day. You never answered. Not much has changed, huh, Haruka?"
Haruka grunted and sat down beside him. "Every day?"
"You've been my best friend for a long time now, Haruka," Kantarou said softly. "You just didn't know it. It's okay, though. I didn't mind waiting."
"Kantarou," Haruka said, reaching out to take Kantarou's hands in his own. He bent down and kissed Kantarou's right hand and then his left, his lips warm and perfect and his long hair tickling Kantarou's fingers.
Kantarou's heart raced and his face flushed, and he couldn't decide whether he felt giddy or ill. "Haruka, don't --"
Haruka's eyes were dark, but his expression was soft. He squeezed Kantarou's hands in his own. "What if I meant it, Kantarou?"
Kantarou stared at him dumbly. "What?"
"I mean it this time." Haruka pressed his forehead against Kantarou's and murmured, "I'm going to outlive you, you know."
When he spoke, Kantarou's voice trembled. "Good. You're stronger than I am, anyway."
Haruka sighed and his breath fluttered against Kantarou's cheek. He smelled faintly of green tea and manju, and this close his eyelashes looked ridiculously long. When Haruka kissed him, Kantarou opened for him eagerly. He'd been greedy for this almost his entire life. Haruka's hands were warm and his mouth was wet, and he made Kantarou ache for everything he never thought he would have.
Haruka pulled back and Kantarou followed him, kissing and biting at Haruka's mouth, his hands fiercely gripping the lapels of Haruka's suit. Haruka groaned deep in his throat and Kantarou climbed onto his lap, kissing his lips and cheek and the soft skin of his neck. Haruka lifted him and pressed Kantarou's back into the hard-packed dirt. Haruka fumbled open his yukata and mouthed the entire length of Kantarou's scar while Kantarou shivered underneath him.
"My heart is telling me to fuck you," Haruka said, his voice a low rumble.
"Then listen to it," Kantarou told him. Haruka yanked Kantarou's yukata closed and made his wings appear, and then they were back in the sky again. He'd flown in Haruka's arms like this so many times, but never with Haruka's hand stroking Kantarou's chest inside his yukata and Haruka's nose buried in Kantarou's hair.
The house was quiet when they arrived. Normally having a house filled with people made Kantarou glad, but today he was happy to find it empty because explaining why Haruka was manhandling him upstairs might have been difficult. Haruka shoved Kantarou inside his room and closed the door, immediately stripping off his coat and tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Kantarou had seen Haruka half-dressed many times and had always admired the view, but today it made his breath catch and his skin heat until even the backs of his knees were sweating. When Haruka reached for his belt, Kantarou swallowed hard and turned away to pull out his futon. Kantarou paid attention to every rustle of clothing, so when Haruka pressed himself against Kantarou's back, he was reasonably sure that Haruka was naked.
Kantarou closed his eyes and let his head fall back as Haruka kissed his neck and opened his yukata. The thin cloth fell to the floor and they stood together in their bare skin in the daylight. Haruka felt warm and alive behind him, kissing Kantarou's shoulders and holding Kantarou's cock in his hand.
Kantarou turned in Haruka's arms and stood on his toes, pulling Haruka's head down so that he could kiss him. The first kiss was soft, their lips clinging together, but the next was wet and messy as Haruka gathered him closer. They fumbled themselves onto the futon, bumping knees and elbows while they sucked and kissed each other breathless. Kantarou landed on his back, Haruka sliding his hands up Kantarou's arms, and then down his chest. Haruka sat back and curled his hands under Kantarou's knees, lifting Kantarou's legs over his shoulders.
"Kantarou," Haruka said.
Kantarou grabbed Haruka's right hand and sucked two fingers into his mouth, letting them go with a pop once they were wet. Haruka seemed to like that, his eyelids drooping and a rumble in this throat. He pushed his fingers inside Kantarou, and Kantarou breathed out and pushed back. Haruka curled his fingers, and Kantarou moaned with pleasure, arching his back.
"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked.
Haruka smirked. "Yes. Is it working?"
"Nn," Kantarou said.
Haruka pulled out his fingers, spitting in his palm and stroking his cock. Kantarou watched him with narrowed eyes and wondered if he could convince Haruka to do this for him in the future, if he could get Haruka to stroke himself and make himself come while Kantarou watched. Haruka was pressing inside him again before Kantarou could ask. Kantarou gasped and touched himself, rubbing the head of his cock with his thumb to make this part easier.
Haruka was so close, so warm, and this felt so good, their sweaty skin sliding together as Haruka fucked him slowly. Kantarou moved underneath him as much as he could, stroking his cock and scraping his fingernails over Haruka's nipples, which only made Haruka call him evil and fuck him harder. Kantarou wanted to laugh but he couldn't catch his breath, the bells at his wrist jingling.
The morning sun spilled over the windowsill and striped their bodies with light. Kantarou shuddered and came, his body tightening hard around Haruka, and then going lax from pleasure. Haruka's claws scratched Kantarou's thighs, enough to sting but not bleed. When Haruka came his head went back and his mouth dropped open, his fangs gleaming white. They lay in a sweaty tangle for a while, soaking up the sunlight, only moving when Kantarou's stomach growled loudly enough to wake them both from a sleepy doze.
Kantarou slipped on his dirty yukata and went downstairs to make tea. Haruka put on his pants and joined him in the kitchen a few moments later.
The next day dawned bright, and Kantarou sat on the veranda in the shade while Haruka slept in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Haruka came down from the roof in time for their evening meal when the sun dipped toward the horizon. The frantic shop owner who had begged for their help earlier that day had been impressed and chagrined that it had taken Haruka less than a minute to shock the angry spirit from his possessed clerk, and Kantarou had been too distracted from the day before to deliver his usual speech about not performing a service for the money. As a result, they'd been paid well for their troubles that morning, and Kantarou promptly had turned most of their earnings over to Youko, and that meant something other than fish on the menu tonight!
"You were amazing today," Kantarou said happily.
"I still don't have any money," Haruka said.
"Damn." Kantarou snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. He looked at the garden. "It's good that you have everything else I need."
Haruka made an odd noise, almost as if he'd choked on air. Haruka rested his hand on Kantarou's head, looked him in the eye, and said, "You're a very strange person."
"You've never met anyone like me?" Kantarou asked.
Haruka shook his head. "I'd remember."
Kantarou leaned into his hand. "Are you sure? You might try to kill me again if you did."
"I'll try not to remember you, then," Haruka said.
Kantarou sighed. "It's okay if you do."
A promise not to would be no better than a lie, and Haruka remained silent.
"I love you," Kantarou said. Haruka looked at him as if Kantarou had just smacked him with his fan. "Are you hungry? We should go inside."
Kantarou wandered the house after the meal, abandoning Haruka to Youko's mysterious smile and idly searching for the book he'd been using as a reference for his latest manuscript. Eventually Kantarou found the book underneath a bowl of sparkling glass beads that hadn't been in his room yesterday. He glanced around the room, seeing the faint gleam of trinkets tucked in odd corners. Haruka had moved his things.
Kantarou felt like running downstairs and jumping on Haruka, squeezing him tightly and shouting about how much he must love Kantarou, and how wonderful it all was. Instead, Kantarou touched the cool glass beads with his fingertips, tucked his book under his arm, and closed the door behind him.
There would be time. He could tease Haruka about his sentimentality tomorrow.