The fact that Neuro waited so long to even consider that possibility is proof enough. Yako wonders if Neuro would have stayed until the very end, if Zera hadn’t showed up when she did to warn him of his impending death. Probably not, she thinks as she sees Zera staggering out of the building and Yako waves goodbye, Akane a comforting pressure on one side of her face, but he would have waited until the last moment to do so.
“He wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on all the puzzles that would appear on his absence,” she tells Akane on her way home. “But I think he wouldn’t have wanted to miss me either, don’t you think?”
Akane fervently nods, and the fact that a demonic hand doesn’t shot out of nowhere to grab her by the head for uttering such words is proof enough that Neuro truly is gone.
She tells her mother that night that Neuro had to go back home for his health, and she hugs Yako so tight at the news it helps her keep her tears at bay.
She tells Godai the next day when she goes visit him at his office, and while he makes no effort to hide his relief at being told he’s finally ‘getting a fucking BREAK’ in his own words, she can also tell he’s glad Neuro didn’t die after all.
She tells Higuchi when he bumps into him at the police station next week, and he gingerly pats her shoulder and invites her to visit the station as many times as she wants.
She bumps into Usui and Tsukushi on her way out, and they’re surprised at the news of her temporarily stepping back from cases for the time being.
“My assistant was severely injured after Sicks,” Yako tells them. “I’m not sure if I can go on working on cases without him.”
Usui raises a single eyebrow in surprise.
“Higuchi told me your help and his was critical in bringing down Sicks,” he starts. “And I don’t intend to… encourage, your illegal behavior.” Usui wrinkles his nose in distaste, and Yako stifles back a smile. “But it’d be a shame to see you disappear just like that, just because you miss your assistant—”
“We’re sorry to hear about his departure, Miss Katsuragi,” Tsukushi quickly interjects, “We hope your assistant will make a speedy recovery, but I’m sure he’d be disappointed to see you step back just because of his absence.”
They assume that her reasons are purely emotional, Yako muses, as she excuses herself and heads back home. And she would be lying if she didn’t say that a large part of it certainly was, but while Yako was confident in her own abilities, her focus was in the heart of the motive, but as for the technicalities of a crime…
“That’s hardly a problem, is it?” Aya tells her with a pleasant smile. “Your assistant had a certain way of working things, but that doesn’t mean you have to do it the same way, does it?”
“But I don’t solve cases the same way he does,” Yako tells her through the glass. “The police are more concerned about the who-dunnit and how-dunnit, aren’t they? What if I can’t provide that?”
“You don’t have to keep working with the police, Miss Detective,” Aya says, and she sends a disarming smile at the warden before she can complain about Aya bad-mouthing the police. “You can still help people your own way, like you just did a week ago, and just like you did with me so long ago. Isn’t that enough?”
That morning, Yako leaves the prison with a wide smile.
She waits until she graduates high school before she bids her farewells to her mother and friends, to Godai and the invaluable people at the work station that tell her she’s welcome back anytime she wants. She closes the office and tucks Akane behind her ear, and sets for the airport on the cab waiting right outside.
“It’s a good time for travelling, Miss Katsuragi!” the driver tells her enthusiastically after she has signed him an autograph. “Where will you be going to?”
“Oh, just here and there,” she tells him with a smile. “I thought it’d be a good idea to travel by myself, figure out some stuff, you know?”
She had promised she would shine so brightly he would be able to find her, after all. No matter where was.
(the true delayer, submitting one hour before the last midnight)
Nougami Neuro is a pacifist.
Or so he says. Bastard probably doesn’t even know what the word actually means and just spouts it for fun, but Godai has been in this business long enough to know that’s a huge fucking lie.
And he tells the detective as much—not that he cares about the shitty brat though, ‘cause he really doesn’t, but she’s still like, what, fifteen or something? And even Godai can’t ignore a kid getting involved with the shadiest motherfucker he has ever seen without at least letting her know what she’s getting into.
So he does, and she smiles kinda funny at him, but she doesn’t even seem worried for some reason.
“I know he’s saying it as a joke, kinda,” she says. “But even so, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
“Really? You really think there’s nothing to worry about? Weren’t you there with me when that Hayasaka guy blew up the storage? You think he did it because that monster was a pacifist!?”
She sighs at that.
“He wasn’t trying to kill him, though.” He didn’t need to, more like. “He was just trying to scare him.”
That hardly counts as comforting in Godai’s book, and he’s well aware by this point that the detective is weird as shit too (to defend that monster!?), but still…
“Am just saying,” Godai continues. “A guy like that... just because he hasn’t done anything doesn’t mean he can’t, you know?” He frowns at her blank stare of confusion and crosses his arms in frustration. “You know??”
“I do know,” she says, and the way she does makes him think that maybe she knows something that even Godai hasn’t noticed, but she sure as hell is being fucking dense about this.
“Don’t say I ain’t warning you then,” Godai continues. “He already got you involved with the yakuza didn’t he? Who the fuck knows what he would do next.”
At that, the detective gapes at him, but then gives him a sweet smile.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Godai-san,” she says. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”
Godai just huffs in indignation.
Since he got handed Mochizuki’s company Godai hasn’t been around at the office as often as he did before, but he makes it a point to keep an eye on the brat anyway. She’s still young, he thinks, if the monster ain’t gonna be responsible he might as well try to do something instead. It’s true that the bastard has never tried anything shady on her and he sure as fuck is thankful for that, but it doesn’t hurt to keep an eye open, right? And if the monster notices, he doesn’t say anything either.
Or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit, like today. He just happens to be walking by the office at midnight, looking for an open convenience store, and just so happens to catch sight of the detective walking alone on the other side of the street, with no other people in sight, because of fucking course she is. That fucking monster can’t even be bothered to see she gets home safe!?
He decides to call after her—it’s not like he’s got anything else to do right now anyway, he might as well walk her home—and just as she’s turning the corner, he sees the fucking creep appearing out of nowhere that stalks after her.
It’s all too fucking fast for Godai to react. He swears loudly and makes a run for it, but stops short at the shadow who suddenly hurls at the motherfucker, right in front of him, a weird whooshing noise that leaves Godai’s ears ringing, and then the fucker is out cold in the middle of the sidewalk.
The shadow isn't anywhere he can see.
“What is—oh, Godai-san!” The noise makes the detective turn back the corner. She barely reacts at the man lying on her feet. “Oh, um, sorry. Am I… interrupting something?”
Godai makes up something on the spot about being owed some money, and the detective takes it in stride. He insists on taking her home and walks her there, waiting outside till he sees the light being turned on inside her house.
He heaves a long suffering sigh. He doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.
On his way back, on a railway crossing, he hears a familiar voice behind him.
“To think that my training has been this effective.” Godai doesn’t even bother to turn around. “You go so far as to care for the well-being of your fellow slave… Excellent.”
Godai only grumbles in response, and the train goes by.
That monster is still shady as fuck, he thinks, but… if he’s taking the trouble to make sure the detective is safe, well, he can’t really be that evil, can he?
(Saturday is not over yet in Honolulu and I’ll be damned if I don’t submit something)
Nougami Neuro has always worked alone.
The Demon World has never fostered an attitude of cooperation among its highest ranks. Cooperation is for the weak, after all, a last resort for the small-minded demons who can’t survive on their own. The royal family, as such, can never wear the shame of succumbing to such tactics, and Neuro is no exception to this rule. He cast aside the name of his father and climbed through the ranks with his power alone, gleefully stepping over the fools who tried to band together to keep him down.
He fought over a thousand demons alone, and he ate all the mysteries of the Demon World on his own. The mere idea that he would need a partner to become stronger—to survive!—is nothing short of ludicrous.
And yet, at the prospect of infiltrating the Human World and settling there, Neuro reconsiders.
“I’m surprised to see you back so soon, Hecadoth,” Neuro says without the slightest hint of surprise in his voice. “Have you got news for me?”
“Your suspicions were correct, my lord,” Hecadoth says with a small bow. “The use of an organic portal reduced the time axis displacement between realms.”
“Then what of Tiriel?”
“She hasn’t made it yet, my lord.”
“Ah, a shame.”
Neuro partakes in an infinitesimal moment of silence before he speaks again.
“Now then, what of your report?”
While Neuro had heard of the stories about demons who had escaped into the Human World, none of the ones who had come back were left alive to tell the tale, their deaths no doubt furthering the rumors of interdimensional tearing being deadly for the users. But Neuro prided himself in being a cautious, prudent individual. Strong as he was, he had hardly dabbled in interdimensional forces, so he promptly volunteered two of his most hesitant servants the great honor of venturing to the Human World and back for a short trip, and to come back with an extremely detailed report on life on the surface.
An excellent tactic to keep loyalty high among his slaves.
“Yes, my lord. I was on the Human World for a period of—”
Hecadoth only confirms several of his suspicions; miasma levels were thin throughout their dimension, but evil intent was rampant and plenty for the creation of mysteries; humans were weak, fragile creatures, but their numbers were enough to surpass the demon population over a hundred times. Neuro nods along as Hecadoth continues spouting information he already knows, if all goes well he should be able to depart as soon as—
“…so I had to kill them in order to get away from—”
“Wait,” Neuro says, and Hecadoth immediately stills. “Kill? Did you kill any humans?”
Hecadoth’s face abruptly loses all color.
“Y-Yes, my lord. As I had mentioned before, humans are trifling creatures that are deathly afraid of anything that may be more powerful than their species. I had no choice but to kill them to get away.”
Neuro raises an eyebrow in slight surprise.
“Humans are unaware of demons then, I take it?”
“Correct. I was… careless, and inadvertently showed my powers in front of a large group. I assure you I did this with the greatest regret, my lord, I had thought outrunning them would be enough, but before I realized they had organized search parties to—”
“That’s enough.”
Neuro wrinkles his brow in distaste, but Hecadoth feels it safe to breathe again.
“I will have to see to the matter of an appropriate disguise before I leave.” Weak creatures were always an annoyance to deal with, which reminded him: “What of the demons on the surface?”
“Barely any, my lord. All escapees from our world.”
“Other creatures?”
“None that I could feel, save for a handful of demon half-breeds.”
That is news to Neuro, but spawns from demon weaklings are hardly a concern. He has more important matters to attend to.
“Very well, if that is all, then leave.”
Hecadoth manages not to trip as he vanishes from sight, and Neuro overlooks the deadened landscape. Camouflage would hardly be a problem for a demon as talented as him, but mingling in was another matter entirely. Would he be able to successfully show a façade of a weakling human? Neuro would rather not deal with unnecessary carnage, but if his cover were to be blown…
He sighs dramatically.
Nougami Neuro has always worked alone. He will tear the fabric of his world and open up a path to satisfy his need for mysteries. All for the sake of his appetite, and if that means acquiring a human partner…
“Not a partner, per se,” Neuro muses to himself. “But surely a human cover would be enough?”
He’s in it to fill his stomach. He surely won’t need anything else.
Summary: They say fools don’t catch colds. But Furuichi wasn’t a fool, and only Oga would’ve thought that letting two kids look after a sick person was a good idea.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: OgaFuru
Word count: 6.2k
Notes: This is a joint collaboration between cows-quack and me for ogafuru week, day three: Nico. Thank you babe, I would have never gotten this finished without you!
Furuichi was sick.
He had no idea how it happened. He had felt perfectly fine before going to bed, and he hardly felt any different when he woke up the next morning. Sure, he suddenly had a sore throat and mild headache, but it was nothing a good shower couldn’t get rid of, right?
But by the time breakfast rolled around Furuichi was less hopeful. Not only did his throat and head still hurt, but he could feel his inner temperature rising at an alarming speed. Cooking over a hot stove did nothing to help his predicament. He was already sweating as he gingerly fried the croquettes; and he didn’t even have the energy to make a proper topping for the rice. Just bending down to get some furikkake packs from the drawer gave his head a rush.
By the time Oga arrived at his apartment with Beel and Nico in tow for their daily breakfast together, it took every ounce of Furuichi’s strength to drag himself to the front door and not collapse midway.
Oga swept him over as soon as he opened the door. “You look like shit.”
“Hello to you too,” Furuichi said as he rolled his eyes, absently raising his hand to greet the kids perched over Oga’s shoulder. “I already made breakfast, so hurry up.”
The croquettes that morning were more salty than usual – if the kids’ whining and Oga’s wrinkling nose as they ate was anything to go by; but Furuichi was too busy trying to find his bag to answer to Oga’s loud complaints coming from the kitchen. When Oga failed to get any sort of reaction, he followed after him.
“Oi,” Oga said somewhere behind him as he bent down to look under his bed. “You look like shit, Furuichi.”
“You already said that,” Furuichi said as he spotted his bag near the foot of the bed and stretched his arm toward it. “What’s your point?”
“You’re still going to leave, dumbass?”
Furuichi pointedly leaned on the bed before standing up, wincing from the pain in his temples despite his deliberate slow movements. “I have an exam today, Oga, I can’t just skip today because I’m feeling a little sick.”
“You look like death itself.”
“Gee, that’s nice.” Furuichi rolled his eyes and immediately regretted it when he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head. He’d have to buy an aspirin on his way to class. “Anyway, I really have to go. Close up after me when Beel and Nico are done, okay?”
“No.” Oga crossed his arms and moved in front of the door, blocking it. “You’re not going.”
“Quit joking, Oga! I have an exam today!”
“Just skip it then.” Oga grabbed Furuichi’s bag and tossed it aside. He shoved Furuichi onto the bed impassively. “You need to sleep,” he commanded, grabbing the blankets and covering Furuichi with them entirely.
“Stop that!” Furuichi immediately pulled down the covers to glare at him. “I can’t skip today! If I don’t go I could fail!”
“You won’t, you have make-up exams,” Oga said.
“Not every class offers make-ups, y’know?” He tried sitting up.
“Forget about it,” Oga said as he pushed Furuichi back down on the the bed. His head hit the pillows with a soft thump.
“Forget about it?!” Furuichi looked up at Oga with disbelief. Did Oga not understand that his chances of passing were riding on this test?
But Oga ignored him and called out to the kitchen.
“Beel! Nico! Get in here.” The two shuffled in with their rice bowls and bits of dried seaweed topping stuck to their chubby cheeks.
“Yeah, Dada?” Beel asked.
“Watch Furuchin. I’m gonna go to the pharmacy.”
“Oga, they’ll get sick!” Furuichi cried.
“They’re demons. They don’t catch human flus.”
“Wait, Oga!” But Oga was out the door before Furuichi could say anything more.
The siblings shuffled over to Furuichi’s bed and peered at him. Ever obedient, the duo climbed over the bed and began their task of watching Furuichi.
Beel was a dutiful son; upon being left in charge by Oga, he vowed to himself that he would make his dad proud. And his job for the day was to watch Furuchin. He was good at watching things so this would definitely be a piece of cake.
“You know,” Furuichi said after a few minutes of the kids sitting motionlessly on the bed, staring intently at him. “When Oga said to watch me he didn’t mean just to… stand and watch me.”
Beel reacted to that with astonishment. What did Oga actually mean then?
“I’m just gonna go to class since Oga’s still out,” Furuichi muttered, slowly righting himself in bed. Beel shook his head. He was sure that Oga wouldn’t want that. Just as he was about to say something, Furuichi doubled over, grabbing his stomach with one hand and his mouth with the other.
Nico cried in shock as Beel stood there frozen in place. A sniper? He didn’t see any!
But Furuichi leaped from the bed and rushed past them out of the room. A few moments later Beel and Nico heard the sound of retching. This must be the reason why Oga asked them to watch him! They exchanged worried glances and quickly made their way to the bathroom, but they didn’t have the courage to go past the open doorway; the loud heaving was scaring them away.
“No. Gotta watch ‘im,” Beel reminded himself aloud.
Nico nodded, determined, and then ran into the bathroom, clamping both hands onto her nose and screaming, “Yuck!”
Beel followed her in and wrinkled his nose. It smelled bad but he needed to be a man and suck it up. He walked carefully to where Furuichi was kneeling and bent over the toilet bowl, still retching. Beel patted his back in sympathy.
“There, there,” he said gingerly.
Nico toddled over and copied her big brother’s actions.
“Dere, dere,” she said.
Furuichi finally stopped vomiting. He heaved a sigh but he didn’t turn to face them.
“Fufu, spit milk?” Nico asked innocently.
“No, Nico. He hungover,” Beel answered sagely.
“You two go to the living room,” Furuichi said, his voice hoarse. “I-I need to clean up.”
“Dada said–”
“Just, go. I’ll be right there.”
The duo hung their heads and walked out.
Furuichi sighed as he gingerly got up. He was tired. His throat was burning and he wanted nothing more than to just sleep right here on the bathroom floor. Exhaustion was seeping into his body, heavier than before; but the bathroom stank and he had an awful taste in his mouth, so he summoned enough strength to clean up his mess and go to the sink to rinse out his mouth.
He felt a little guilty chasing out the kids like that, but he didn’t want them to see him like this. He groaned and grabbed a toothbrush, ready to scrub the taste out of his mouth. By now he could freely admit to himself that there was no way he would be able to make it to his exam. He didn’t know what he could do about it though. His professor was really strict and tended not to make an exception for anybody. What if he ended up failing the subject?
Furuichi staggered out of the bathroom and into the living room, where he found the demon siblings setting up a number of mismatched tea cups on the coffee table. Nico was stuffing tea bags into each cup, tongue stuck out in concentration. Beel was wiping his brow as if he’d accomplished a particularly hard job.
“Hey,” Furuichi greeted them.
“Fufu, tea!” Nico demanded as soon as she saw him, pointing at one of the cups.
“Wow, you two made tea?” Furuichi played along. He shuffled over and sat onto the couch, trying not to show his fatigue. Nico carefully picked up the cup and made her way to him. She held out the cup.
“Drink,” she said. Furuichi picked up the cup, smiling. He didn’t know how he’d drink it when there wasn’t any water and filled to the brim with tea bags, but he couldn’t just tell her that.
“Thank you, Nico.”
But when Furuichi made no motion to drink it she got onto her tiptoes and pushed the cup up. “Drink!”
“I will! I will!” Furuichi laughed. “I just got to wait for it to cool first.”
Satisfied with that answer, she turned back to the table and continued her job of stuffing tea bags in the rest of the cups. Furuichi hoped they wouldn’t try to force him to ‘drink’ all of it.
“Time to sleep,” Beel suddenly announced, grabbing the couch cushion and patting it with his tiny hand. Furuichi leaned over and ruffled his hair.
“I’ll sleep after I finish this tea, okay?”
There was no way he could sleep knowing he would fail an exam that was worth twenty percent of his grade. His stomach lurched and he wasn’t quite sure if it was his nerves or whatever he’d come down with. He wondered if his professor would reconsider if he brought a doctor's note. No, before that, he should send an email.
“Beel, can you bring me my phone?”
Beel saluted and ran off, leaving Furuichi with Nico. He wondered what was taking Oga so long. The pharmacy was only a few blocks away. Then again, he doubted he would be able to make the whole trip without fighting someone along the way.
Oga fished out Furuichi’s keys and opened the door to the apartment. He made his way down the hall, hoping that Furuichi hadn’t ran away or keeled over in the time he was gone. Instead he found Furuichi sitting in the living room and having some kind of tea party, Oga surmised by the number of cups spread over the coffee table, with Beel and Nico sitting at either side of him and staring at whatever he was doing in his phone.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Oga asked in annoyance as he approached them and set the plastic bag on the couch.
“I’m writing an email,” Furuichi muttered without looking up from the screen. “I figured the teacher might take pity on me if I sent him a message in advance.” He frowned as he reread his letter. “Maybe I should attach a picture for added effect…” he mumbled under his breath.
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about that?” Oga said as he went towards the kitchen.
“Even if you say that, it’s not like I can just ignore I might– hmm?”
“Ding!” Nico mimicked Furuichi’s phone as it rung in his hands.
“It’s calling?” Beel asked.
“No, Beel, it’s just an email,” Furuichi explained with a bemused expression. It was too early in the morning for anyone to send him anything. Was it propaganda? Or maybe his mother needed something?
But to his surprise he found that the email was from the very same teacher he was just about to send a message to. Alarmed, he briefly wondered if he was getting scolded for not showing up to class today; but to his surprise the teacher had sent out a last minute announcement instead.
“You’re kidding… Class was cancelled!?” Furuichi blinked in astonishment at his phone.
“Cancel?” Beel asked as he peered at the screen, trying to read. “That good?”
“I– yes! My teacher said something came up and had to reschedule for Monday! I don’t believe this!”
“Told you you didn’t have worry,” Oga said as he suddenly appeared in front of Furuichi. He had come back from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand, setting it on the coffee table. “Here.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Oga had brought back cold medicine from the pharmacy. Furuichi wasn’t sure if he really did just have a cold, but he figured it’d be good for taking care of the symptoms at least. As he swallowed two pills he idly wondered if Oga had had something to do with his teacher’s sudden email. He had never been out of commission before and the timing was just too convenient – Oga had taken a while in coming back, after all. He thought about asking him about it but quickly decided against it. If he had, he really didn’t want to know.
“Oh, should I have taken those on an empty stomach?” Furuichi suddenly recalled.
“What do you mean?” Oga looked at him sharply. “You ate breakfast.”
“I barfed my guts out after you left.” Furuichi chuckled. “Beel thought I was hung over.”
“Idiot.” Oga snatched the medicine, squinting at the warning label. Furuichi tried and failed to hide a smile. Just the fact that Oga was reading, actually reading for him, was kind of touching.
“The label says it should be fine,” Oga grumbles out after a moment. “But you should eat something else anyway. Nico didn’t finish her breakfast so you can take hers.”
Furuichi was about to argue that he might not be able to keep the croquettes down when he remembered he had also made rice. If it was just that, it would probably be fine.
“Alright,” he said as he gingerly stood up and went towards the kitchen. “Are you leaving for work now?”
“Yeah, I’ll just ask Alaindelon to help me again so I can get there on time,” Oga said as he checked the clock on the wall. He then turned to where Beel and Nico were still sitting on the couch. “Beel, Nico.”
Both kids immediately straightened and looked at their father, ready for new orders.
“Make sure he sleeps after he’s done eating, okay?”
“Yeah!!”
“Wait, what!?” Furuichi said as he stopped dead in his tracks. “Oga, are you serious!? You can’t leave them here! I’m in no state to take care of them!”
“They’re staying here so they can take care of you, idiot.”
“They can’t do that. They’re just kids!”
“I’ll send someone over. Don’t worry about them.”
“Oga, wait!”
But just like he did before, he was out of the apartment before Furuichi could stop him. Beel and Nico wasted no time to go after Furuichi, pulling him by his hands towards the kitchen. Sighing in resignation, Furuichi allowed himself to be steered towards the dining table.
The medicine started to take effect after finishing his second breakfast, so he went back to the living to and settled down for a quick nap. By the time that he was awoken by Beel and Nico’s laughing at the TV, he was feeling a little better, enough so that he felt like he could get up and do something instead of just dozing on the couch as the kids watched television.
“Do you kids wanna play?” he asked as soon as the credits rolled.
“No,” Beel said. “You’re sick.”
“Sleep!” Nico demanded angrily.
“I already did!” Furuichi whined. “Come on, it’s no fun for you guys if I sleep all day.”
“What’s we play?” Beel asked, easily convinced. He must have been bored.
“What do you wanna play?” Furuichi asked as he joined the on the floor.
“Hide and peek!” Nico squealed.
Furuichi smiled. That would be an easy game. No running involved, and not a lot of places the kids could hide inside the apartment either.
“Then how about I start? You guys have till ten to hide, okay?”
“Close eyes!” Nico exclaimed happily, jumping up and down. “No cheat!”
“I won’t, I promise!” Furuichi said as he willingly obliged. “I’m starting now, you guys ready?
Furuichi heard the kids squeal in excitement before running off in different directions, the sound of their footsteps fading after a few seconds. He began counting.
“One…”
Furuichi could hear distant giggles coming from his room. They were probably hiding under his bed.
“Two…”
By the time he reached ten Beel and Nico couldn’t hide their laughter anymore. Despite that, Furuichi pretended he hadn’t heard them. He went around looking in the wardrobe and behind the vanity – nothing wrong with a guy having one! – before looking under the bed. They squealed with excitement when he found them.
“Now, you hide,” Beel told Furuichi before running up to the wall and covering his eyes. Nico grabbed Furuichi’s hand and pulled him out of the room. They could hear Beel counting.
“One. Two. Free. Four. Five…. five… five...”
Furuichi covered his mouth so he didn’t burst out laughing. Nico angrily shushed him then pushed him towards the curtains. She ran to the other end and hid behind the curtain. Furuichi could see her feet clearly visible from the material she hid under, but he choked back another laugh and dutifully hid where he was told.
“Seven.” Beel just skipped over the six. “Eight. Nine. Ten. Leben… uh… ten!”
Beel ran out into the living room, right to the spot that they were hiding. Unlike Furuichi, he actually couldn’t tell where they were hiding even though it was painfully obvious, so he ran around the entire apartment searching for them. Furuichi found it hilarious the first ten minutes but after an hour and half he was just plain tired of waiting. If Nico’s sighs were anything to go by, she was also thoroughly exhausted.
Beel wandered into the living room once more, looking scared now. Furuichi began wonderingif he should reveal his hiding place when the young demon made a grab for the phone. He dialed in a number and waited, the oversized phone pressed against his ear.
“Hello, police?” he said. Furuichi yanked off the curtain with a panic.
“Beel, hold on!”
“There’s been in ab-ab-abduction!”
“No, there hasn’t!” Furuichi grabbed the phone and reassured the cop that it was just a case of hide and seek gone wrong. “You know, kids. They’re so quick to jump to conclusions,” he chuckled nervously.
“I have kids of my own,” the officer responded wistfully. “Three girls.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Furuichi forced a smile. He really wanted to hang up right now but the cop kept talking to him.
“How about you? How many kids have you got?”
“Two, a boy and a girl,” Furuichi answered, not bothering to point out that they weren’t really his own kids.
“How old are they?” he asked.
“Um. Five and two.”
“Two’s a tough age.”
“Officer, I really should hang up now.”
“No! C’mon, let’s talk a little more. I’m bored as hell here.”
“I’m sorry!” Furuichi shouted, hanging up the phone. What was that cop thinking, holding up the line like that? It had taken all his willpower not to yell out a punchline right there and then.
“V is for victory!” Beel flashed the vulcan salute. Furuichi crouched down and hugged him. He could tell that Beel had actually been seriously freaked out just a few moments ago.
“Okay you win,” Furuichi said. Beel hugged him tightly, hiding a muffled yawn against Furuichi’s chest. Nico glared at the exchange.
“Oh, that’s right, you guys haven’t had your nap yet, have you?” Furuichi let go of Beel.
Nico yawned loudly in response, rubbing her eyes as she did; but Beel seemed determined to stay awake.
“Not tired!” Beel scoffed as he crossed his arms indignantly, despite his drooping eyes immediately giving him away. “Have to watch you!”
“It’s okay, Beel, I think I’m gonna sleep too while we’re it. And we can all share my bed, how about that?”
It seemed like Beel’s only reason to refuse a nap was the possibility that Furuichi might drop dead when he wasn’t looking, because no sooner had he heard of Furuichi’s idea that he rushed past him towards the bedroom and leaped towards the bed.
“Furuchin! Sleep!” he said as he patted the mattress fervently after getting comfortable under the covers.
“Right, right, I’m going.”
“Fufu!” Nico exclaimed once Furuichi sat on the bed, carrying something in her arms. “Read!”
Furuichi reached towards the large book she was holding. ‘The Demon and the Yople Alien’ it was called, one of the bedtime stories that Hilda had brought from the Demon World and had left in Furuichi’s apartment a few weeks ago.
“Oh, you want me to read it to you, Nico?” Furuichi asked with a smile.
“Pfft,” Beel scoffed in Nico’s direction as she made herself comfortable under the covers. “That for babies!”
But when Furuichi laid down between them with the book in his hands, he began listening intently anyway.
Furuichi had never read any of the books Hilda occasionally brought with her, but this one seemed pretty tame in contrast to all the demonic toys he had seen in the past. There wasn’t any killing, for one, nor any mention of senseless violence. Although the probing part had been really random, it was definitely not the weirdest thing he had seen come out of the Demon World. Beel and Nico seemed to enjoy it at least.
“And so, Hanzo and his alien friend Zera decided to go on a journey in search for adventures. The end.”
Furuichi shut the book, yawning. He made to put it on the bedside table but the book slid in his grasp, cutting his finger.
“Ow!” Furuichi dropped the book in surprise. “That’s sharp!”
He stared at his index finger, inspecting the paper cut. It was bleeding slightly but nothing he couldn’t live through. So much for Demon World books being harmless. Why would they even make the corners so sharp in the first place?
“Oh no!” Nico exclaimed in dismay. On Furuichi’s other side, Beel was already fast asleep. “Hurt!”
“It’s okay, Nico, there’s barely any blood coming out, see?”
He lowered his hand to show her and she squinted at his finger in concentration. “No hurt?”
“Just a little bit.”
She frowned for a moment, deep in thought, before breaking into an excited smile. “Kiss! Make better!” She nodded in approval at the genius of her own idea – Oga would be so proud of her! – and promptly bent down to plant a loud kiss on his finger. “Mwah!”
“Oh, wow, thank you, Nico,” Furuichi said with a smile. “It doesn’t hurt anymore!”
Nico beamed proudly as Furuichi leaned down to give her a kiss on her forehead as well. Nico yawned loudly soon after, however, so before anything else could happen, Furuichi carefully picked up the discarded book and placed it on the nightstand, allowed Nico to get comfortable between his arms, and immediately fell asleep.
Lamia was feeling frustrated. Oga had called her that morning saying that Furuichi was sick and looked like hell and to get there like her life depended on it. She had ditched any important meetings that day and rushed as fast as she could to Alaindelon’s place. He, unfortunately, wasn’t there. It took her half an hour to track down another dimensional transfer demon that would send her to the human world. However, he transported her to the wrong town and she had spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get to Furuichi’s apartment.
It wasn’t until she had dropped down to her knees, sobbing in the middle of a crowded street that the universe took pity on her.
“I don’t have time for this,” she had cried. “Furuichi could be seriously sick!”
And just like that Alaindelon had appeared, bathed in a golden glow that almost seemed holy. He reached out his hand and pulled her to her feet. Within a few minutes the two of them were standing in the middle of Furuichi’s apartment.
“Furuichi?” Lamia called. “Where are you?”
“Takayuki,” Alaindelon peered in the kitchen. “We’re here to help you.”
They were met with silence. They were starting to get concerned by now, so they split up and checked the place; Lamia found Furuichi within a few minutes inside his room, sleeping on his bed all cuddled up with Nico and Beel. She sighed in relief.
Behind her a flash went off. She turned to find Alaindelon standing there with a camera in hand. She shook her head, sighing, even though she was tempted to ask him for a copy. He took a few more blinding shots, that had Furuichi turning away from them with an annoyed grunt.
“No flash photography,” she warned the demon as she stepped closer to Furuichi. She placed a hand on his cheeking, feeling his temperature. It was a little warm but she suspected that it must have been higher this morning. She pulled out an otoscope and checked his ears; surprisingly he didn’t wake up. He must have been really exhausted.
She frowned as she moved around him and continued her examination. It seemed like he had nothing but a flu, but she needed to wake him and make sure of all the symptoms. She brushed his hair out of his face with a gentle sigh. Alaindelon shoved past her and mimicked her actions.
“Poor Takayuki,” he whispered.
Furuichi’s eyes fluttered open and he glared at the two in front of him before turning away from them with a huff.
“I don’t want a guy to caress my face,” he groaned in disgust.
Lamia’s eyes widened when she spotted what was on his neck. She pushed Alaindelon and practically threw herself on the bed, waking Beel. She yanked Furuichi’s shirt collar revealing a red mark on his neck.
“What are you doing?!” Furuichi cried in annoyance.
“Want sleep!” Beel screamed, crawling out from under Lamia and to Nico’s side of the bed.
“What’s that on your neck?” Lamia asked, pulling out a magnifying glass and peering at his nape.
“Oh my!” Alaindelon said. “Is it a hickey?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lamia muttered angrily. She couldn’t believe it. What was something like that doing on Furuichi’s neck?
“Hey!” Furuichi sat up, offended. “What do you mean ridiculous?”
“You have the fly king seal on your neck,” she said.
Furuichi huffed. “What? Now you are being ridiculous.”
“Shaddup!” Nico screamed.
“Shut the fact up!” Beel shook his fist.
Furuichi got off of his bed and tucked the siblings back under the covers.
“We’re sorry,” he said. “You two go back to sleep, okay?”
He ushered Lamia and Alaindelon into the living room. When the two had walked out and he had properly shut the door, Furuichi shoved his fist under their faces revealing the demon crest.
“It’s on my hand,” he said, “remember?”
“There’s another one on your neck.” Lamia said plainly.
“No there isn’t.”
“Yes there is.”
“Prove it.”
“Very well,” Alaindelon interrupted. He pulled out his camera and took a picture of Furuichi’s neck and promptly showed it to him. Furuichi blinked at it in disbelief. There on his neck, in blood red, was the royal family crest. It was small, but it was definitely there.
Furuichi’s mouth hung open. It looked just like Oga’s, only smaller. He couldn’t process it. No, before that, he had no idea how this happened.
“I already have a crest.” He frowned. “Where did this come from?!”
“You tell me!” Lamia exclaimed, peering at his neck again.
“Could it be,” Alaindelon said as he zoomed in on the photo, “that you formed a subcontract with Beel?”
“Impossible.” Furuichi waved his hand about, showing his number zero crest. He knew that Beel was capable of using anyone who had the King’s Crest as a subcontractor; but Kunieda and Kanzaki hadn’t mentioned anything about another emblem appearing when they fought against the Fallen Angels. “This is proof of my loyalty to Beel and Oga. Why would another crest appear?”
“Nico then?” Lamia asked in a hushed tone.
“But she’s already contracted to Oga!”
Oga worked wordlessly. He wanted nothing more than to ditch work and check in on Furuichi but that wasn’t about to happen. He glanced at his wristwatch and sighed. He had another hour to go. Just one more hour. Next to him, Toujo was stacking bricks and humming a random tune.
He wiped his hand against his brow, sighing, when something caught his eye. To be more specific, it was the lack of something that caught his eye. He glanced at his left hand. It was gone. Nico’s royal crest was gone.
He inhaled sharply. It wasn’t the first time Nico had broken off the connection, but it still left him feeling worried. All those times that she had broken the contract was when he had been overwhelmed by her growing power on top of having to support Beel’s as well; but he had been feeling fine the whole day. Why would Nico forfeit the contract now?
Unless something had happened while he was gone.
“Toujo, cover for me.”
“Oh! Are you leaving early to check up on Furuichi, after all?”
Oga ignored him in favor of calling the dimensional transfer demon. “Alaindelon!” But after a few seconds of standing around and waiting like an idiot, it was clear that he wasn’t going to show up. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Why did that bastard only listen to Furuichi?
“Lend me your bike,” Oga said, shoving his train pass into Toujo’s hand. He wasn’t about to leave him stranded here without any means of transportation. Being a dad did teach him a few things.
“Yeah, sure.” He handed over the keys. “Call me if you need me.”
Oga ran off to Toujo’s motorbike, and revved up the engine. He put on the helmet and frowned. Toujo must have a bigass head because it was too large for his normal sized one. He tossed the helmet aside and focused on getting there as fast as possible.
“Well, it’s unprecedented, but a demon is capable of changing contracts if they want to,” Lamia explained uncertainly. “In this case, if Nico thought that you would be a better contractor for her, for whatever reason, then…”
“Did you make a formal contract with the young mistress, Takayuki?”
“Of course not! I mean we only played hide and seek for a while and–” Furuichi froze as he suddenly remembered. “Wait, we did… I cut my finger on accident and Nico, uhm, kissed it to make it better.” He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I guess that’s when it happened…”
Lamia looked at him in astonishment. Had he not realized that he had presented her with blood? She thought that after all these years he would have been more knowledgeable about contracts. Then again, Furuichi tended to use contract tissues instead of actual blood contracts.
“Why did you let her do that!?”
“I didn’t think that’d be enough to create a contract! There was barely any blood! And she was already contracted with Oga!”
Well, Lamia couldn’t blame him for that. She couldn’t have expected that Nico would be changing contracts so easily either.
“What am I supposed to do now, then? Should we call Hilda?” Furuichi wasn’t sure if she’d be particularly happy at the news, but he couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.
“Well, I don’t know if there’s anything that needs to be done... If Nico has already made her choice then why should we–”
Lamia was interrupted by a sudden slam at the front door. The sound of heavy footfalls grew closer until Oga appeared by the doorway. His hair was a mess and he looked uncharacteristically agitated.
“Where’s Nico?” he asked bluntly.
“She’s sleeping,” Furuichi answered “What’s wrong? Why are you–”
“And Beel?”
“Also sleeping.”
“Where?”
“In my room,” Furuichi said. Oga marched towards the room and peered in, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Did something happen?” Furuichi asked.
“S’nothing,” Oga muttered. He turned to Furuichi. “You better?”
“Yeah,” Furuichi nodded. “A lil’ bit.”
“It shouldn’t last more than three days.” Lamia reassured them sheepishly. After noticing the crest, she had completely forgotten the reason why she had come in the first place. But seeing Furuichi talk for the last minutes without problem was enough to know he would be fine. “Have you been able to eat anything, Furuichi?”
“Yeah… I threw up the croquettes I ate this morning, but after I took some medicine I ate a bowl of rice and– hey!”
“Oi,” Oga interrupted as he seized the back of Furuichi’s neck. “What the hell is this?”
“Er,” Furuichi began warily. Oga wouldn’t be mad for ‘taking’ his contract, would he? He disentangled himself from his grip to face him and cleared his throat. No point in beating around the bush. “That’s Nico’s crest. I don’t know why, but she made a contract with me.”
The effect was instantaneous. Furuichi might as well have punched him for how shocked he looked at the news.
Lamia and Alaindelon didn’t take this as a good sign.
“Oh wow, look at the time!” Lamia said, looking at her bare wrist as they inched towards the door. “I just remembered we had another appointment after this! We’ll be back in a couple of hours okay bye!!”
The two ran out and shut the door behind them. Furuichi was sure they were lying through their teeth; no one wanted to face Oga when he was angry. He also knew the two well enough to know that they were probably pressed up against the door, listening to see when it’d be safe to come back.
“Are you mad?” Furuichi asked nervously.
Oga remained quiet for a few moments before his shoulders finally loosened up. “Not really.” Oga shrugged. “Nico’s always been picky about who her contractor was.”
“You never told me that,” Furuichi said. “I thought she was really attached to you.”
“She’s my kid. She has to be attached.”
Furuichi smiled at that. It was sweet that Oga referred to them as his kids. Before Beel, Furuichi never thought that he would ever see Oga become a father. He never had an interest in women or the domestic life. He was the type of shitty bastard that would make people bow to him. But here he was, father of two. A man who proudly wore a homemade ‘#1 Dad’ shirt that Beel had made for him. It was surreal.
“But you’re stronger than me,” Furuichi protested.
Oga glared at him. Furuichi paled. Had he hit a nerve? It was true though, Oga was unbelievably strong. And as a contractor, Furuichi was lacking on the strength department. Why would Nico prefer a downgrade?
Oga clearly did not agree. “Idiot. Are you still on about that? I thought Hecadoth had already told you, having muscle is not all there is to it.”
“I know that, but–”
“Nico is not dumb. She wouldn’t choose a loser for a contract.”
“Yeah, but she’s two!”
“Huh?!” Oga grabbed Furuichi, putting him in a chokehold. “You wouldn’t dare say anything bad about my little girl, would you, Furuichi-kun?”
“I only said she was two!” Furuichi protested, trying to get Oga to release his grasp.
“Give up.” Oga tightened his hold. “You’re her contractor now.”
“I give! I give!” Furuichi batted at Oga’s arm. “Is this how you treat a sick person?? Let go!”
Oga let go, looking satisfied, but he turned his attention to the TV instead of saying anything more. Oga flopped down on the couch, flipping the channels randomly. Furuichi rubbed his sore neck but didn’t complain, he just sat next to Oga with a huff. Oga didn’t spare him another glance.
“Just goes to show how much you care,” Furuichi muttered indignantly.
“Stop bitching already.”
Furuichi sighed, leaning back on the couch. He wondered when Lamia was coming back – maybe she wasn’t waiting outside of the door after all and decided to stay away as far as possible just in case. He wanted her to use some of her demon magic to heal him fast; he would have a lot of revising to do for the exam soon.
“Aren’t you going home?” Furuichi asked Oga.
“The kids are still asleep. Might as well stay for dinner.”
“You better not be expecting me to cook!”
In response Oga sprawled himself over the couch, resting his head on Furuichi’s lap.
“Hey!” He shook his fist in anger, trying to resist the urge to punch Oga in the face. “I’m not your pillow, you bastard!”
Oga ignored him and made himself comfortable. “We’ll just ask Hilda to come over and make us something.”
Furuichi mumbled under his breath, but he made no attempt to pry Oga off of him. He hadn’t managed to sleep for that long before Lamia had arrived and he was too tired to deal with Oga’s antics. He looked down at Oga with a sigh; the fool was laughing at something on TV without a worry in the world.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Furuichi said warily. “I mean, I know she’s gotten better lately, but I don’t know if my stomach is up to it…” Furuichi absently brushed his fingers through Oga’s hair, wondering what Hilda could possibly make for them. Maybe he could persuade Lamia to help with dinner when she came back. “Speaking of which… who’s gonna tell Hilda about all of this?”
There was an awkward pause as Furuichi’s words sunk in.
Summary: It’s been nearly ten years since then, and only now has Oga decided to call Furuichi by his first name.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: OgaFuru
Word count: 1.6k
Notes: My submission for ogafuru week, day one: First Time.
The first time Oga calls Furuichi by his given name, barely a day has passed since Oga finally came back from the Demon World.
They’re relaxing in Oga’s room, playing video games for the first time in six months and generally enjoying their much deserved break, when Oga suddenly calls him; and it’s so unexpected and completely out of nowhere that Furuichi can’t help the subsequent chill that goes down his spine as soon as he hears it.
“What,” Furuichi says warily as he sees his character almost die on-screen after momentarily losing grip on his controller. “What did you just say?”
“I said I’m going to the convenience store and that you should come with me,” Oga says as he mercilessly takes advantage of Furuichi’s slip and pounds his character to the floor, Beel and Nico cheering in between them.
“Not that,” Furuichi says through gritted teeth. “I mean what you said before that.”
The screen flashes with a title announcing Oga’s victory, so he finally turns around to face Furuichi. “Takayuki?”
Furuichi shudders once more as he shakes his head involuntarily.
“Yes. That.” He sets down his control and turns to glare at Oga’s perplexed expression. “Why the hell did you call me that?”
“That’s your name, Takayuki.”
“S-stop that!” Furuichi yells as he feels his cheeks starting to burn in embarrassment. “Why are you doing this!? You– we never call each other by our first names!”
“So?”
“What do you mean, so!? Why are you–”
“Oi, Tatsumi~” Misaki interrupts as her head peeks around the door. Somehow the mention of Oga’s name makes Furuichi flinch self-consciously. “Are you going to the convenience store? We ran out of popsicles already.”
“Yeah, we’re going,” he says as he begins to stand up and Beel quickly latches onto his back.
“But get me the grape ones, okay? I hate the lemon flavor.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. My face still hurts from when you kicked me last time,” Oga grumbles as he looks around his bed for some loose change. “Come on, Takayuki.”
The only reason Furuichi doesn’t scream in mortification is because Misaki is still inside the room, her eyes going wide as saucers the moment she hears her brother call Furuichi by his first name. When Oga continues to pocket the money he found as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened, she bites down on her lip, suppressing a smile, and promptly leaves the room.
Furuichi makes a mental note to not look Misaki in the eye for the rest of the day.
“Oi, what are you doing? Nico ain’t gonna wait for you all day.”
At those words Furuichi notes in surprise that Nico had crawled to his lap at some point, holding her hands up in the air as she motions for Furuichi to hold her up, her eyes bright.
Furuichi smiles at her absently and promptly scoops her up.
“Fine. But I’m not paying for you this time, you hear me?”
As they’re leaving the house, Alaindelon inexplicably appears on the other side of the front door, nearly giving Furuichi a heart attack in the process, and announcing that he wants to join them as well. He claims that there’s something he needs to buy for Hilda as soon as possible – probably the most recent issue of the Soap Opera Digest – so he offers to transport everyone to the convenience store.
Oga shrugs with indifference, seemingly not caring either way; but Furuichi is paranoid. It’s almost as though the dimensional demon knows that Furuichi already has a list of questions in his head to bombard Oga with on their way to the store, because no, he sure as hell wasn’t about to drop the issue of him using his first name just because they were running an errand. But regardless of this being Alaindelon’s true intention or not, it works. Furuichi refrains from saying anything until they’re back home.
It takes the kids twenty minutes to settle on what candy they want to buy for themselves – candy that Furuichi ultimately ends up paying, as expected; and the only reason Furuichi doesn’t complain is because Oga calling him by his name in front of the cashier was even more embarrassing than being called Takayuki in private, so he all but throws his money at the counter just so they can get out of the store immediately.
When they get back to Oga’s room less than two minutes later, Furuichi ushers a protesting Alaindelon out of the room, insisting that he shouldn’t make Hilda wait any longer, and locks the door behind him. He then makes a beeline for the TV and plays the first Gohan-kun video he can find, effectively engrossing Beel and Nico on the screen as they suck on their lollipops.
“What the hell are you doing?” Oga asks from the floor, who had been staring at Furuichi in confusion the whole time.
“Nothing,” Furuichi dismisses him as he joins him on the floor and sits right in front of him. He’s well aware that he’s making a big deal over something that should be insignificant. Friends call each other by their first names all the time, after all. But when it comes to Oga… and of all things, for him to take the initiative, he might as well just have –
“Oga,” Furuichi says loudly to interrupt his train of thought. “You didn’t answer my question before…” Furuichi falters at the last second, embarrassed. “W-why did you suddenly called me by my first name?”
Oga’s completely blank expression makes him fidget self-consciously, but he doesn’t look away.
“Do you hate it?”
“It’s not that I hate it but… I thought– You said before you didn’t like being called by your first name! When we first met Miki–”
“Ugh,” Oga says with an uncharacteristically uncomfortable expression. “What does that have to do with anything? Miki is Miki, and you are you. I don’t get what’s the big deal.”
“But why now? Isn’t it a little anticlimactic after so many years?”
Oga doesn’t reply right away. He takes his sweet time in considering an answer as he watches Beel and Nico laughing at the TV, humming and scratching at the back of his head every few minutes or so. Just when Furuichi is starting to wonder if Oga is actually ignoring him, he answers.
“You know, back when we were in the Demon World,” he says, “there were days when we hardly did shit. We’d have to travel for weeks to look for abandoned cities or whatever, and there was nothing else to do to pass the time.”
Furuichi has no idea what this story has to do with the subject at hand, but from past experiences he knows that Oga intends to get to a point later on.
Probably.
“It wasn’t so bad when it was just Hilda and me, it’s not like she talks much. But sometimes Alaindelon would come with us, you know.” Oga wrinkles his nose in distaste. “And he never shut up. It was so annoying.”
“Er, why? What did he talk about?”
Oga stares at him with and incredulous expression that makes Furuichi realize the stupidity of his own question less than a second later.
“Okay, never mind, dumb question, but why–?”
“That bastard doesn’t know his place.” Oga scoffs as he crosses his arms. “It’s one thing to open your mouth for a one-panel joke; but when you do it too much it’s not funny anymore! What even is the point of his character, anyway?”
Furuichi had expected to get mad, for Oga surely would give him nothing but a plethora of ridiculous and childish reasons; or maybe not even an explanation at all. But this? This is certainly a pleasant surprise.
“Oga,” Furuichi finally says as he tries not to laugh. “Don’t tell me… you’re actually jealous?”
“Ha? Jealous? Of what? Don’t be stupid, Takayuki.” This time Furuichi manages not to shiver. “That guy’s annoying is all, don’t get so full of yourself.”
“Yeah, sure,” Furuichi says with a wry smile. “Then I guess… I should call you Tatsumi too while I’m at it, right?”
He almost expects Oga to pull a face at the mention of his own name, just like he always did since he was eight years old; but Oga surprises him yet again when he only shrugs in response.
“Whatever.”
“Pfft.” Furuichi can’t hide his laughter anymore. “Why are you always like this, you idiot?”
“Cause I’m the coolest guy, Takayuki.”
Furuichi keeps laughing like he hasn’t done in a while, and even Oga joins in with a smirk of his own. The kids are distracted from the TV by Furuichi’s sudden good mood, and they promptly join Oga to try and make their dada laugh as well. The sight of Beel and Nico using Oga’s mouth and ears to get a reaction out of him only makes Furuichi laugh even more.
The mood in the room is surprisingly warm, Furuichi notices absently once his laughter has died down; it feels like the kind that shows up in all those sappy romantic movies. If Tatsumi wasn’t a guy, this would definitely be the moment where he would lean in to kiss him.
Furuichi almost thinks that even if he wasn’t a chick, maybe such a concept wouldn’t be so bad.
Unfortunately any semblance of romance is completely destroyed when Misaki crashes through the door and lands a flying kick to Oga’s head, asking where the hell her popsicles are.
Oh well, Takayuki thinks cheerfully as he wraps a bandage around Tatsumi’s head a few minutes later while Beel and Nico rest on his legs for moral support, it’s not like there wouldn’t be any other opportunities to talk more openly in the future, after all.
Summary: "Just like how much Art cares for Nice, Nice’s feelings towards Art [are] also very strong. However, Nice won't admit 'I like you’ in front of the person he dotes on, just like a child who cannot talk straight."
Rating: PG
Pairings: NiceArt
Word count: 471
Notes: My submission for niceart week, day seven: Canon. A continuation of this fic, but can be read on its own.
Nice has to keep stuffing his mouth with sweets to keep himself from drooling at the sight in front of him.
He can't help noticing how attractive Art is looking that day, with the sun shining on his back and his eyes brighter than usual, leaning forward as he talks to him, his head resting on his hands, with his long, delicate fingers intertwined together–
Nice hastily grabs another cake and keeps talking around a mouthful.
He's surprised when Art abruptly stands up after a second of silence. He offers to pay the bill and gives him a gentle smile as he leaves, like he always does, but Nice wonder if perhaps it was his fault, that he made Art leave thinking he didn't want to talk to him at all.
If anything, there was something Nice thought would be a great time to bring up as they had lunch together.
But surely not. How could Nice possibly voice something like that out loud? Shouldn't it be obvious?
And besides, why would such a hard-working and responsible person like Art be interested in the first place?
When he leaves, Nice pretends he can't hear the voice inside his head that calls him a coward.
When Art loses himself in the darkness, Nice swears he won't run away anymore.
It takes a long time for Art to come back, for Art to forgive himself, for things to go back to normal.
When they finally meet at the cemetery, Nice cheerfully remarks that if Art dares to die again, Nice will be sure to kill him himself.
But even as they go back to Café Nowhere and are welcomed with open arms, even Nice can tell that's not enough. Certainly not for Art.
So after another long time has passed, and Art's hair is now reaching his shoulders, Nice decides that, in the end, it's better late than never.
"I love you, Art." Nice finally tells him as he stares directly into Art's eyes, and he doesn't miss the way his expression is completely overcome by surprise.
For a single, frightening second, Art fails to show any kind of response. But then his eyes mist over and his lips are quivering, and Nice can tell Art is doing everything in his power to not start crying.
When he finally composes himself, Art shows him the happiest and most beautiful smile Nice has ever seen from him, "I love you too, Nice."
The rest of that night is a blur. As they lay in bed together, remembering the touches and kisses they had shared not so long ago, Nice wonders if perhaps this was the right way, if things could've– should've gone better, if things were supposed to have taken this long to happen.
But as Art reaches up for a kiss to wish him good night, Nice decides that if they're together now, then everything else can't possibly matter.
"I love you, Art."
And Nice always makes sure to keep saying it over and over again.
Summary: When he sees Nice from afar at the scene of the crime, Art decides he will finally confess his feelings that day.
Rating: PG
Pairings: NiceArt
Word count: 379
Notes: My (late) submission for niceart week, day five: Date. Inspired by this post.
Art puts on his best smile and a basket of pastries just between them, leaning forward with his hands intertwined, and he waits.
He assures Nice he's not hungry, urging him to help himself as much as he likes, and he complies almost too well. Art tries to be charming, as they discuss work and their cases and the information they've recently acquired, hoping to create an opening and broach the subject he has been mulling for hours.
But Nice only insists on the selection of desserts in front of him, and Art's will is beginning to falter.
He makes an attempt for conversation one last time.
But Nice gives a nonchalant reply in return, and grows silent once more.
And it's all Art needs to know.
Rejected, Art abruptly stands up. He makes a light joke just before leaving, offers him a smile despite how he's feeling, and he turns around to leave before Nice's nonchalant stare will make him lose his composure.
Behind him, Nice reaches for one last pastry before he takes his leave as well.
That night, he doesn't sleep.
He remains still for hours, staring at the darkness of his ceiling as he wonders why he even tried, what made him think Nice could possibly feel the same way.
When he sees Nice again the following day, it will be painful, and he will start to doubt himself.
When he meets with a suspect in just a couple of days, Art will allow him to get inside his head, twist his heart with thoughts that should have never been there.
He will die for his best friend, and will come back for him again.
He will lose himself in darkness, thinking no one in this world could ever accept him.
All because of the misguided perception that Nice does not reciprocate.
And most tragic of all, perhaps, is the knowledge that Nice, who sits in his own room and wonders if he should have said something after all, does love him as well.
Summary: Fate is set in spirals of smoke; and a simple change of heart is enough for a terrible tragedy to never be born.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: NiceArt
Word count: 3k
Notes: My (late) submission for niceart week, day three: Aftermath. A companion piece to Healing, by kei-mai.
"Art… did something happen?"
It sounds too stiff, too polite; the tone in his voice is completely wrong. Even when he would get mad, Art never speaks to him in such a way, almost like he's hurrying to get away from their conversation.
If the notion wasn't so ridiculous, Nice would have claimed that wasn't Art at all.
So he tries to be reasonable.
Art must sound strange because he's still a little mad at him, still too tired from the serial murder case, there can be no other reason. He promptly promises they will talk again soon, perhaps when Art feels better than his voice seems to hint. Surely there is nothing wrong.
But all his rationalities cannot quench down the uneasiness he feels in his stomach.
So by the time 'Art' hangs up, Nice has already made up his mind. He sends a quick message to Honey to meet him in no less than ten minutes before he goes running through the rain, heading straight to the police department.
He storms through the police station lobby without greeting anyone, ignoring Gasquet's complains as he kicks down the door to Art's office and makes himself at home in front of the computer. He doesn't notice when Honey arrives just a few minutes later, Three nowhere on sight, complaining loudly to Gasquet about getting dragged to other people's relationship problems without so much as a 'please' or 'thank you' .
"Are you tracking Art's phone GPS again?" Honey asks as she peeks at the monitor, her voice teasing.
"Yeah," Nice replies without looking away from the screen, "I need you to help me see into his location."
"Why?"
The computer beeps as Art's location finally shows up, and Nice frowns at the slow moving-dot on the map that seems to have come out of the cemetery.
"There's something I need to check."
Reinforcements are called and police cars are dispatched, but even with Gasquet personally on the case, Nice doubts they will be fast enough to catch up to Moral before he leaves. Honey had activated the Mighty Script just in time to see Moral tossing Art's cellphone on the street and getting inside a car.
So that wasn't Art at the phone, after all.
"Nice, wait! Don't you dare go after him on your own–!"
But Nice has already bolted out of the office and is running full speed towards the cemetery, fingers clicking over and over until the buildings around him are nothing but a lost blur. He doesn't care if there's an army of Minimum holders waiting at his destination, he would rather die than waste another second in finding Art.
So it feels like an eternity later when the cemetery's entrance finally comes into view, the rain pouring down hardly making an impression on him as he speeds up despite his protesting body. He has reached the clearing under the oak tree, where he always meets Art once a year, when he sees him.
Lying in the ground and unmoving, patches of red everywhere around him. Blood in his clothes, blood in the grass beneath him, tainting his hands and his hair and his face.
Almost as good as dead.
And he can feel something awful catching in his throat.
"ART!"
There is a woman leaning towards his body, and Nice yells before he realizes that perhaps he should be quiet, should not be giving the enemy time to react to his entrance and allow her to escape. But he must've snapped his fingers once more, because by the time she turns around and stops dead in her tracks, Nice is already two inches from her face and pulling his arm back.
It was the woman from the flower shop.
Looking down at her unconscious figure, Nice recognizes her now, the soft-spoken woman who had advised him about the best flowers he could buy; though remembering her face does little to help the present situation. Someone to interrogate about Moral's whereabouts, at the very least.
So as long as Art is still alive, in any case.
Nice can properly see the damage now as he kneels next to him, looking for a pulse in his wrists or his neck or anywhere he can find. At least three bullets were emptied into his chest and the right side of his face is completely drenched in blood. Nice can't know for sure, with the heavy rain falling mercilessly on them both, but he thinks he can see tears on Art's face too.
He wants to ask him why, he wants to know what happened and why Art was in this sort of situation in the first place, but Nice can't find a pulse. Even though the pool of blood underneath him has stopped growing, its mere presence does little to relieve Nice that the situation is not urgent; and no matter how many times he calls his name, Art won't wake up. That dreadful thing stuck in the back of his throat is fighting to get loose, but Nice adamantly refuses to let out a single a sob. If he cries, he loses. And if he loses, he will lose Art too.
Very slowly, very gently, he lowers himself over Art's chest until his head is just barely resting over him. He pulls his headphones over his free ear, trying to block out the sound of the rain around him. This is the last chance he has; he wishes he could stop trembling for a damn second so he could find it. He breathes in once, twice; wills himself to remain steady. With bated breath, he listens.
And impossibly, he hears a heartbeat.
The ambulance arrives almost on cue, the paramedics rushing through the clearing and lead by none other than Honey to their location (who had foreseen what Nice would find in the cemetery) and was now yelling at him to let the paramedics do their job and get the hell out of the way if he wanted Art to live.
When they arrive to the hospital and Honey stays behind to let everyone else know of the situation, Nice makes a mental note to thank her later for the trouble.
Art is promptly rushed to the operation room into what was supposed to be a lengthy and extremely delicate surgery that couldn't completely guarantee Art's survival. And yet when they start the transfusions, the doctors notice he doesn't need as much blood as they had thought; the internal damage is not so severe despite the five bullets they find inside him; the broken fingers are showing the equivalent of a one week recovery; and when barely an hour into the surgery has passed, Art's heart rate is already stabilized.
In short, an absolutely impossible occurrence.
Tests are made, Facultas doctors brought in, and even Ratio makes an appearance himself before they can make a verdict. But even if Nice is no doctor, seeing the increasing rate with which Art is healing himself is enough for him to reach a conclusion before the doctors officially do.
"Art has a Minimum."
The Regeneration Minimum, Ratio calls it, as he debriefs Nice on the specifics of it and how it works and why it had never been detected until now. Nice is too busy taking care of Art to listen to the doctors talk among themselves, but he catches the most important bits of their conversation anyway.
Any damage that is dealt to the body, no matter how severe or deadly, will heal, but the time will vary depending on the injury. A cut can disappear in a matter of seconds. A bullet wound can take a whole day. Even a whole arm can grow back, so as long as the Minimum is activated. And the trigger is death.
Art's heart had stopped in the cemetery, and it beat again when Nice found him.
The doctors protest Nice's presence at first, saying that despite his Minimum, Art is still a patient and needs rest. They assure him that when he wakes up from his death-induced coma, they'd let Nice know first as soon as possible. But it's been nearly 24 hours since Art was brought in to the hospital, and he's almost certain he will wake up soon and,
"I don't want him to be alone when he does!"
And because Gasquet knows Nice will not be dissuaded out of that room, or perhaps because he can sense Nice's inner turmoil as well, he vouches for him. He assures the staff that Nice is none other than the boyfriend of the patient in question, and he's finally allowed to stay.
Nurses come and go during that time, checking on Art's vitals and making sure that Nice doesn't try to curl up next to him when no one is looking. One of the younger nurses gives him a message from Murasaki after she has finished berating Nice for accidentally pulling off the wires from the heart monitor, saying he will bring him a few basic necessities in a few hours since he hasn't budged from the hospital room at all and probably won't any time soon.
Nice doesn't mind staying in his same clothes for an extra day and even thinks it's a little unnecessary, but he knows from past experiences that Art might not be happy if he had to sleep next to a person who hadn't showered in a while, so he appreciates Murasaki's common sense anyway.
It's about forty minutes past midnight, when Nice is starting to doze off on his chair despite his best efforts, that he finally hears signs of consciousness coming from the bed next to him.
"Art!?" Nice all but jumps right to his side, startled, his right hand reaching for Art's before he notices. Art groans in his sleep, tossing and turning in his bed –and Nice fleetingly wonders if he's in pain– but he doesn't wake up.
Was he having a nightmare?
"Art!"
And his eyes finally open at once. An alarmed expression quickly settles over his features as he looks around nervously, but Nice promptly squeezes his hand in reassurance and Art's breath hitches for a second. He has to blink several times before his gaze finally focuses on Nice.
"Nice?" he asks wearily.
"Yeah, it's me."
Art sighs in relief and finally relaxes into the bed, staring absently at the ceiling above him. Nice sinks back into his chair, relieved; but he can't help noticing that Art looks rather perturbed still as he keeps looking over his surroundings.
"Are you okay?" Nice doesn't blame Art for being disoriented at all, but he worries about the scared expression on his face, the wariness in his eyes every time he stares at his direction.
Even his smile, which Nice knows is trying to be reassuring, betrays him. "I'm fine."
Any other day Nice might have let that go, but seeing how the last time they didn't talk properly Art went through a literal life and death situation…
"Nice," Art begins reproachfully, having realized his intentions the moment Nice stood back from the bed. But Nice has already made up his mind and plops himself on the bed, wordlessly asking for Art to move. His friend hesitantly complies, unsure; but the moment Nice finally lies down and reaches for his hand, placing it over his own heart, he can see the tension ease away from Art's features as he melts into Nice's hold.
"Better?" Nice asks him in a soft voice, brushing Art's face out of the way; and he's glad to see that this time, Art's smile seems more genuine.
"Yes," Art says as he leans into Nice's touch, "thank you."
And Nice finally allows himself to smile for the first time that day, more than willing to stay as he is for the rest of the evening; but unfortunately there's some things they have to take care of first.
"Gotta call the doctors, you ready?"
Art nods in reply, if a little reluctantly, and after pressing the call button on the headboard Nice makes a mental note to immediately lie down again as soon as the doctors are gone.
Nice waits for the medical staff to arrive before he climbs out of the bed, hanging back in a corner as he watches the doctors and nurses prodding Art with question after question, checking for any sign of possible side effects, asking over and over again if he's feeling fine.
"You are very lucky to have such a Minimum, Inspector Art," his assigned doctor finally says after a while, consulting his clipboard, "a stab wound to your abdomen, five gunshot wounds to your torso, a graze to your right temple, and three fractured bones in your left hand." Nice doesn't miss the way Art's expression falters at the list, and it's all he can do to not bolt out of the room. "The injuries have healed without complications, and your coma doesn't seem to have any negative effects on your health, so you should be discharged soon."
"Thank you, doctor," Art replies politely as ever, though he makes no effort to hide his relief once the staff finally begins to leave the room.
One of the nurses stops in front of Nice on her way out, however, and his face lights up as he recognizes Murasaki's bag slung over her arm.
"Murasaki-san said there should be food in there as well," she tells him as she hands it over, though not before pointedly holding it back before Nice can take it, "I don’t care how much you want to cuddle, but I told you what those wires connect to, and you could pull his IV out! I'm working the graveyard shift, and if I have to run down here thinking it's an emergency when you just pulled off his heart monitor–"
"I've got it, I've got it," Nice replies cheekily as he swiftly grabs the bag from her hands and proceeds to lead her out the room, "thanks!"
"Remember to pull the railing, at least!" Nice hears her through the door, but he's already too busy looking for food to bother to reply.
"What's that?" Art asks him as he curiously eyes the bag from which Nice produced a sandwich and takes a bite.
"Clothes," Nice answers after taking another bite, and he proceeds to climb into the bed once more. If Art has any intention to complain, he immediately lets it go as Nice resumes petting his hair.
"How is Hamatora fairing?" Art asks after a while.
"I don’t know – haven't left since you got out of the ER," Nice adds at Art's blank look of confusion, "They won’t let anyone visit until you're conscious and can give permission."
Art is clearly perplexed by this statement, since that means Nice shouldn't be able to be in his room at the moment if that was true. "How did you get them to let you stay?"
"I told them I was your boyfriend." Nice can't help but grin as he says it. "Got Gasquet to vouch for me. They were willing to turn a blind eye after that."
And Art blushes at his reply just as Nice had expected him to do, and any other day he would have wasted no time to tease him for how easily he gets flustered, he muses as he finishes his sandwich; but now that the doctors are out of the way, there's something they need to talk about that Nice can't ignore anymore.
"You really shouldn't run off to fight on your own." His voice comes out much quieter than he had intended, perhaps afraid that his own rage will show through without meaning to, even if Art wasn't the person he was angry at.
But it seems that Art manages to understand his frustration all the same.
"I'm sorry." Art says as he averts his gaze, and Nice is well aware of the implications behind that action; it's certainly not a promise to not do it again, one Nice can't say he's entirely happy about. But Art had regained consciousness just a few hours ago, and the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight, so for now Nice will allow the topic to be dropped. "How did you find me?"
"The way 'you' answered the call didn't seem right, so I tracked your phone's GPS."
"And I suppose you broke into my office to do that?"
Now it's Nice's turn to feel guilty, laughing nervously as Art rolls his eyes at his friend's antics, but he can tell the inspector is not mad.
"I had Honey check on the location, and he definitely wasn't you. The cemetery was close by, so I went there first." Nice pauses, swallowing back that awful thing he felt on his throat when he first found Art coming up again, and he shifts his hand to rest against Art's cheek as a reminder of what is real. "She was getting ready to carry you away."
"And Moral?" Art asks him after he reaches for Nice's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.
"We'll get the bastard," Nice is quick to assure him; but Art must've caught him something else in his face, because he only offers him a wry smile as he gently traces the dark circles under his eyes. And suddenly Nice remembers he hasn't sleep in over 24 hours.
"You'll have to rest up first."
He can't help laughing at that. "Sounds great. I'll be right back."
Now that Art is fine and awake, sleep seems to have caught up with Nice at an alarming pace, because he hardly remembers going through the motions of getting ready for bed, barely registering his actions as he goes inside the room's bathroom, changes into the pajamas Murasaki packed for him and washes his face. By the time he comes out, he's not able to stifle his own yawns anymore, and he considers it a miracle that he remembers to put the railing before climbing back into the bed.
"G'night," Nice mumbles as he cuddles next to Art, not even noticing as he immediately reaches for his hand and hope the nurses will let them stay like that throughout the night. Before he finally succumbs to sleep, he hears Art's soft reply as he squeezes him back.
