Secret santa gift for @savagematchmaker! I May have forgotten to post this. The tinies in the background are a reference to some of their fics or AUs we've talked about :D
@rxxshintaro i wrote you a lil something! (lil meaning like 4k hahah.) hope you’ll like it! this is the first chapter:
also found at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107196
Kano was having a bad day.
Really, it was that simple. It had started with him waking up because of a damned mosquito, which had managed to get itself into his room at some point during the night before proceeding to incessantly buzz at his ear only when his palms were too far away from the fiend for him to utterly destroy that fucker. And, of course, when he went downstairs there were no mosquito repellers left. And, of course, that when he went to the coffee shop at six A.M. they were out of cocoa, therefore unable to satisfy his hot chocolate cravings. And, of course, that on his way back home, a random dude wearing noise-cancelling headphones would block his way. Of course.
So yeah. Kano was having a bad day.
“Excuse me?” he tried for the third time, still keeping his polite smile on. He was way too tired for conflict.
The teen before him remained silent, staring at his phone’s screen as he took multiple pictures of some poppies on the side of the road- he was probably even unaware of Kano’s presence.
Sighing, Kano contemplated inching past the boy. But no, if he tried passing through he’d most likely end up in the other’s personal bubble, squeezed against the other- which he definitely did not want to accomplish. Which meant there were only two options left for him:
Turn around and take another route home. The exercise would do him good anyway.
Get the other to notice him via (shudder) human contact.
Turn around and take another route home. The exercise would do him good anyway.
Get the other to notice him via (shudder) human contact.
While option one was very tempting and probably the more advantageous option of the two, it also meant admitting defeat. Although Kano didn’t know the boy before him, a part of him bristled in indignation at the thought of giving in to the other’s despotism. No. Kano would not give in— he would bypass his usual mentality regarding his aversion to human contact and he’d (shudder) pat the other’s shoulder to get his attention.
A sigh.
“Excuse me?” he asked once more, this time lightly tapping the teen’s shoulder while ensuring that the rest of his body was a healthy distance from him— wary of giving the other the wrong impression, whatever that would be.
It was just a light tap, even by Kano’s standards, yet the boy violently flinched away. Confused, Kano took a careful step back, his hands lifted in a nonthreatening manner; the other took a deep breath, his frame relaxing when the distance between them lengthened. Kano waited for him to take off his headphones, yet they remained on. Instead, the stranger just pocketed his phone, then, with his fist, made a circular motion on his chest.
Once, then twice.
It was during the third circle that Kano realized what was happening. His bad mood suddenly disappeared, replaced by burning regret, and he agitatedly shook his head.
‘No, I’m sorry,’ he signed to the other.
The black-haired teen lightly smiled and stepped aside, clearing the way for Kano. Signing a small ‘Thank you,’ the blonde passed him and continued his walk back home, shoulders slightly hunched as he attempted to fight off the lingering embarrassment.
Shintaro regretted many things, starting with him getting in the accident that led to his deafness and ending with him letting Ayano convince him to come visit her home.
A terrible decision, really. He came off as dark and brooding at best and misanthropic at worst; there were few exceptions to this general rule, like Momo or Ayano.
Ayano, who was currently grinning at him as if he’d just told her he was getting married. Not a very good comparison, but still. Weren’t her siblings sixteen? Didn’t teens that age hate absolutely everybody and everything? Or was that thirteen? Shintaro could no longer remember, but his belief did not waver. Ayano’s siblings would for sure hate him; that meant that Ayano would soon hate him too.
Taking a calming breath, Shintaro hit the breaks in his spiraling. Everything would be fine. He’d live for a couple of months in his room until people forgot his face— he could ‘borrow’ from Momo’s dried squid reserves.
At his side, Ayano was still smiling, slightly facing him at all times to make sure that he could read her lips. They’d abandoned ASL after some disastrous accidents rooted in Ayano’s attempts to learn it, and although lip-reading wasn’t that accurate, there were very few people who knew sign language well enough to communicate with him. Stifling his swelling apprehension in face of the imminent awkwardness, Shintaro fidgeted on the spot.
“I’m home!” called Ayano as she toed off her shoes. A couple moments later, her siblings showed up, all of them hosting wary expressions bar one. The familiar blond’s eyes were wide in recognition.
‘Hey,’ signed the blond. Beyond his cheerfulness there was defensiveness Shintaro was pretty familiar with, piled upon what was probably fierce protectiveness of his sister.
Shintaro decided not to get into either of them. ‘How come you know ASL?’ he asked instead.
‘Was bored,’ replied the other, grinning dismissively. Then, his eyes suddenly flicked away from him and towards a green-haired girl; someone had asked something and Shintaro had missed it, <strike>as always. Torn between reading the girl’s lips and the blond’s, Shintaro hesitated for a moment before settling for the boy. “...met him yesterday, on my way home. Want me to introduce you guys?” the blond said.
Shintaro felt Ayano tense up at his side. He knew her well enough to know that she was feeling jealous for not being the one to introduce Shintaro and hating herself for it. Probably a lot too.
Pulling in his usual reservation, Shintaro comfortingly took her hand in his. She tensed up, then relaxed and smiled at him. Reassured, he turned back to her brother.
He was staring at them strangely, but went on and signed anyway. ‘I’m K-A-N-O.’ He pointed to the green-haired girl. ‘K-I-D-O.’ Then to the tall boy. ‘S-E-T-O.’ And the small, white-haired girl hiding behind Seto. ‘M-A-R-Y.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ replied Shintaro, trying his best to smile politely. Damn his awkwardness and social conventions. The latter most of all.
Why was he here again? How should he handle this? Did normal people even ask themselves these things? What was ‘normal’ though—
Ayano elbowed him and his spiral screeched to a stop.
“Anyone want to play Mario Kart?” she asked, her eyes sparkling in fierce competitiveness. “I’m really good at it now.” As a rare show of caring, his competitiveness reared its head at the statement.
‘I want to be Princess Peach,’ he declared, slightly smiling. Really, he’d smiled a lot today. Weird.
Competitiveness brings out the worst in people. This is known well enough by countless people everywhere: professional or amateur, young or old. Kano supposed that their game of Mario Kart was proof of that fact. Kido, as Luigi, had been kicked off-route so many times that she’d finally huffed in exasperation and blamed her lack of proficiency on her remote. She dumped it in Seto’s lap, then got up to make lunch. Seto was relaxed, Ayano was fierce yet three laps behind. And Kano and Shintaro… Kano and Shintaro were the living proof of the aforementioned universal truth.
Once more, a shell knocked into Kano. Once more, the air around Shintaro started stinking with smugness.
Kano was gonna destroy this bastard.
Easier said than done. For the third time in a row, Shintaro won first place, Kano second, Ayano third, and Seto a very much left behind fourth. He didn’t seem bothered by it. Only smiled at Mary and handed her the remote, asking her if she wanted to try playing.
Just as Kano opened his mouth to demand a rematch, from the corner of his eye he glimpsed Shintaro turning to Ayano and signing ‘Should we help your sister?’.
Ayano seemed surprised by his offer. “No, she usually does it herself— she really likes it. Once, she kicked me out of the kitchen, saying that I was too clumsy to help her cook,” she replied, laughing at the last part. Shintaro’s shoulders slumped in relief.
So Kano’s initial opinion of Shintaro had been true. The guy really was a selfish bastard most of the time.
here is a super helpful website for this kinda thing!
the first result isn’t always the one you’re looking for but when you press enter it’ll give you a ton of words related to your query that’ll probably have what you’re wanting, or something better
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
(screaming) KANOSHIN KANOSHIN KANOSHIN KANOSHIN
angst with a happy ending.
0.
Screams echoed against the faraway walls of the laboratory. Somewhere near Shintaro, someone was breathing raggedly. Or maybe it was Shintaro himself. His sense of self had inconspicuously faded away at some point, blending into a blurry idea of panic and urgency.
Why was he so panicked again?
Oh right. The hole in his side. Which continued to furiously spout blood. Blood which then trickled down his leg and puddled under the soles of his feet, making him slip and stumble as he kept on walking and searching for…
What was he- oh. Momo. Where was she?
Blinking blearily at his blurry environs, Shintaro glanced around himself; his attention was snagged by something before him.
Something dark red and vaguely human.
It held little to no resemblance to his little sister. It was only a bloody mess, blurry and unclear to his wet eyes. His throat knotted up.
“Momo,” he mouthed, instinctively stumbling forward.
The shape didn’t answer. Only the snake chuckled, somewhere faraway and as if from behind a curtain of deafness.
There was roaring in Shintaro’s ears; he felt sick.
Once more, laughter sounded. It was closer this time.
A pitter prompted Shintaro to turn- just in time to see Kano, his smile slipping away, widen his eyes. There was a gun’s barrel pressed against his forehead and the snake was smirking, then madly roaring with laughter.
Boom.
Someone was screaming and it might have been Shintaro. But he had no way to be sure of that- for the snake turned to him, eyes flashing.
Pain flared across his ribcage, then numbness; and a blackened void engulfed him whole.
Shintaro did not wake again.
0.5.
It was the 15th of August for the second time and it was terribly warm outside.
However, huddled around the cluttered table, the Mekakushi Dan were cold. Apparently, fear did that to people.
“So…” tried Kido. She didn’t complete the thought, waiting for someone else to finish her idea. From her expectant glance, Shintaro guessed that she was thinking he’d be the one to do it.
“Yeah,” was the only thing he said. His ability had told him that this was the first time the day had been rewound, yet he had a terrible feeling of deja-vu.
“That’s the only thing you’re gonna say? Wow, you’re useless,” joked Kano, his arms crossed behind his head. He grinned at Shintaro.
Images of that smile-shattering bullets flashed across Shintaro’s mind. Heart clenching, he turned his head away from the blonde and pushed away the painful memory. He’d deal with that later. Or never. He’d see.
“So…” started Momo, hesitant and apprehensive. Kido comfortingly bumped her shoulder into Momo’s. “What’s the plan?”
(plan) 1.
There was absolutely no way that this plan was going to work, but Shintaro did not have the heart to tell the others. Hope seemed to have taken hold of them, and they were giddy with excitement. Slightly wary, of course, but mostly excited.
Which was exactly why Shintaro had such a bad feeling about this.
A loud cackle made Shintaro flinch with sudden recollection. On the other side of the room, Kano was loudly laughing at Mary; this went on for a few moments, before he suddenly fell silent and froze, Mary glaring at him unblinkingly.
Serves him right, chuckled Shintaro, slightly smiling as he stared at the two.
He missed the way Ene silently stared at him.
This one plan ended in bloodshed, in the laboratory.
(plan) 2.
Crouched at the edge of the rooftop, Shintaro peered down at the faraway ground. At his side, Kano seemed completely unfazed by the dizzying heights.
An “ Are you sure this plan will work” was on the tip of Shintaro’s tongue, but he swallowed it. Doubts would serve them no good at this point.
“So, Shintaro-kun,” sounded Kano from next to Shintaro, startling him out of his daze. “Anything interesting happen in the other realities?”
There was something in Kano’s eyes that told Shintaro he wasn’t talking about the unavoidable massacre at the end of each of Shintaro’s lives.
“Uh, not really?”
Keeping his face carefully blank, Kano looked away. The tension in his shoulders thoroughly confused Shintaro.
“Huh,” murmured the blond, his posture tenser by the second. Kano once more turned to face Shintaro, and his eyes were large and bright, grin lopsided and somewhat shy.
The blond abruptly leaned forward and forcefully slammed his lips into Shintaro’s, pulling away quickly after. This was no kiss; only something remotely related to it, messy and hasty, filled with confusion.
“Now you’ll have something interesting to remember in the next ones,” he grinned, the expression unsure yet more real than ever.
Only hours later, well into the bloodbath, did Shintaro realize that this Kano had never expected to live through his reality.
3.
This one ended in the hideout, with Shintaro holding onto Momo even as her body grew cold. The day started once more before he could die with her.
This one was shattered suddenly, with the help of a pair of scissors and with Ene distantly screaming at Shintaro to stop, stop, drop the scissors, please-
It ended before it could begin.
35.
In this one, Shintaro and Mary were the only ones who knew.
Sitting on the sofa, Shintaro watched his sister timidly court Kido, who, if possible, was even shier than Momo. Both of their faces were scarlet, yet their fingers were interlaced and their lips quirked up into content smiles.
Pain flared in Shintaro’s stomach as his insides squeezed painfully.
“Shintaro-kun, don’t ya know it’s not polite to stare?” came a cheery voice from next to him.
Forcing his features into blankness, Shintaro turned to look at Kano, who was fiendishly grinning at him.
Annoyance abruptly smothered Shintaro when he saw the expression, knowing from his previous realities just how fake it really was.
“Stop that,” he ground out. The room was silent, Momo and Kido too far away to hear. Ene was God-knows-where.
“...What?” Kano’s smile was slipping. He tried to pick it back up, but he only managed to make it more obviously fake than before.
“Pretending. I’m sick of it,” replied Shinatro, batting away the memory of red scarves and paper cranes from his first reality.
His real reality.
No, scratch that. There was no real reality anymore, not for him. He’d have to make do.
“I’m…” fumbled Kano.
Pushing down the guilt, Shintaro stood up from the couch.
“I need to talk to Mary,” was all he said before walking away. Really, maybe he’d be lucky this time. Maybe they’d live.
They didn’t. Death took them in Mary’s childhood home, their blood coating its walls.
n.
Gleeful laughter surrounded Shintaro, yet the only thing he could think of was that damned snake. Which was probably normal in his situation.
What was normal in his situation, though?
Momo accidentally nudged him, bringing him out of his reverie. She was wildly gesticulating as she told Kido a story of how she’d managed to buy a package of dried squids at a third the price. They both seemed entertained enough, considering their general situation.
From the other side of the table came a squeal: Kano was once more teasing Mary, making her flush with embarrassment. Her face was scarlet as she turned away from him and towards Seto.
Affection bloomed in Shintaro’s chest and he slightly smiled as he looked at the people surrounding him.
Kano alone returned the grin; warmth enveloped Shintaro.
end(?).
A plan involving a large scale riot, two hundred skateboards and a large coil of rope proved to be enough to subdue the snake.
Villain captured and ended, the Mekakushi Dan allowed exhaustion to take over, falling back onto the couch’s pillows in a large pile of limbs and sharp elbows.
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snowghoul
kianamaiart
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kaledo-art
