in your summer

Kirara feels like summer.

Or maybe Kinji only thinks this because it is summer, the sun high up in a bright blue cloudy sky.

But no, it’s not just that. Kirara feels like summer heat – calm and warm and light, somehow. It’s different from the all-encompassing fever of battle and adrenaline that Kinji thrives in. It’s the kind of heat that leaves his thoughts quiet as he just watches his best friend in front of him.

Her white slip of a dress flutters high around her thighs whenever she twirls around in that way she does whenever she has to look back and say something to him, because she’s always skipping ahead while he walks after her at a much lazier pace.

Today, Kinji has to squint slightly every now and then, whenever the shiny plastic beads threaded through the thin straps on her shoulders catch the sunlight and flash their sharp glint straight into his eyes.

She looks all soft and light, humming as she goes, swinging back and forth a bag filled to bursting with a bunch of plushies he’d won for her at the arcade. Someone who knows her less than Kinji does wouldn’t see her sharper edges like this. But he is all too aware of it, as whenever they walk into a patch of sun, he sees the shadow of her figure through her dress – the dark red of her bralette and the black of her tattered shorts. Her wrists are decked in beads and leather, and the matching choker on her neck has star-shaped studs.

“Kin-chan!” she calls to him, spinning around and walking backwards so she can blink her too-big eyes at him. She’s holding her phone in her hand and pointing at something on her screen that he’s surprised she can even see with how bright the sun is. “There’s a really pretty cafe near here. Let’s grab some drinks!”

Her new piercing shines in the light when she grins, the glint harsher than the beads’, and Kinji has to look down only to grow concerned with how she might trip walking like this, in those ridiculous chunky black boots she loves so much because they made her three inches taller and she got them from the thrift store for super cheap.

She stops walking and rocks on her heels as she waits for Kinji to catch up. She takes his arm with her free hand as soon as he’s within reach.

“You’ve dragged me to all the pretty cafes.” Kinji says, taking her bag of plushies so her other hand is free to hold on to him too. “They basically serve sugar. This one better have some normal drinks too.”

Kirara pouts. “They always do. C’mon, you said we can go wherever I want.”

He lets her pull him with her down the street, because he did tell her that.

It’s their day.

It’s not really any special day – but he promised her this day.

The day before was a special day – Kinji had a particularly good run at the casino – he earned enough to cover the next month’s rent, several refills of Kirara’s meds and more. It’s probably up there in terms of the most he’s made since they left the school and moved into a tiny one-bedroom apartment.

(He had been there already waiting, the minute Kirara stepped out from her job at the salon. He’d swept her in his arms and spun her around even before she could ask how his day had been.)

(“I hit the jackpot, princess.” he told her, and watched her eyes sparkle as she giggled at whatever crazy expression he probably had in his face. “Y’got tomorrow off, right? We’re going out. We go wherever you wanna go. My treat.”)

(“Okay, Kin–chan.” was all Kirara said, and her giggles turned into full laughter when he spun her around again.)

Today so far, Kirara had dragged him to see a movie she picked at random (“I don’t care what it’s about, I just wanna be somewhere cold.”). It wasn’t particularly interesting in the end, but he’d enjoyed having Kirara snuggled against him in the cold of the movie theater.

Then Kirara said she wanted to go on a ferris wheel ride and Kinji obliged. It was entirely too hot at that time of day, especially after being cooped up in the cold, but it was worth it to see Kirara positively glowing with glee as she took photos – of the two of them, of the view, of the city and the sky. Near the end, she tripped over her unreasonable shoes, fell into his lap and didn’t get off until the ride was over.

After that, Kirara said she wanted to go to the arcade, because the last time they went was when they were still students. It isn’t as bright and exciting to Kinji now, not when he’s gotten more used to the neon and shine of casinos and bars with poker rooms – until Kirara challenged him to get a plushie from a crane game. So Kinji got all her favorites.

Now Kirara wants to go to a pretty cafe, and Kinji did promise to take her wherever she wanted – so that’s where they’re headed next.

As they walk, Kirara reads the cafe’s menu on her phone out loud. Kinji gives up on remembering any of them after she reads one with a name of more than four words, but he lets her go on, her voice a curious sound to his ears.

She sounds so different now than when they first met. It’s a mix of growing more sure of herself, and those meds she’s been taking. She’s always had a nice voice, and Kinji likes how she sounds now, but he knows it’s only going to change more – sound more like how she wants, hopefully. He doesn’t comment on it. Not yet. Not until she does.

He’d tried to compliment her looks once, early on when she started showing visible changes from the hormones. Kirara had smiled and thanked him, her cheeks pink, but he didn’t miss how conscious she got afterwards. She’d been a little more awkward, almost shy around him for those next few days.

So these days, the only thing he allowed himself to “notice” about her out loud is her hair.

These days, it seems like there’s always something new with her hair. Kirara likes to show it off. She likes when he notices.

(After leaving Jujutsu High, they were able to pay for the studio apartment and most of the furniture and stuff they needed with money Kinji had saved up. Then they bought their first month of groceries with Kirara’s funds, much smaller since she’s been having to pay for her prescriptions herself.)

(Right away they knew they needed some income – so Kinji gambled because that’s what he did best. Kirara went more practical and got a job at a small salon because they didn’t mind a high school dropout as long as the person can hold hairdryers for their stylists, fetch supplies and sweep hair off the floor.)

(She was smiling when she came home from her first shift. The next day, she went to work wearing a skirt.)

(After her third day, she came home with a new haircut, which surprised Kinji because he knew how hard she was trying to grow it out. But she only shrugged and said she liked it, how it’s styled, and how it made her cuter. Kinji readily agreed that it did.)

(A few days later, when he went to pick her up, her hair had bubblegum pink tips. He told her it looked cool and got approving nods and thumbs ups from the ladies who were giddily watching them through the windows.)

Kinji wonders what they know – what Kirara told them about who he is to her. Maybe they think he’s her boyfriend. These days people believe that easier than, say, they’re just friends living together because they’re both broke high school dropouts with no family to turn to.

He decided he doesn’t mind what they think. Kirara’s people at the salon were nice. They were loud and kind and funny. They took care of her and they called her “Kirara-chan”. They love how she’s always game with them doing fun stuff with her hair. They know a lot of people like Kirara, and Kirara is thrilled to meet them every time.

Kirara’s latest new hairstyle is a purple streak in her bangs. Her hair is down to her shoulders now, but today she had tied it back into the tiniest ponytail and pinned the strays back with about a half dozen sparkly star hairclips, to cope with the hot weather.

Today – months after leaving Jujutsu High, away from unfair missions and deadly curses, free from the judgmental eyes of conservative higher-ups – Kinji thinks that Kirara looks the most like herself than he’s ever seen her.

So yeah, today is their day. It’s not a particularly special day to start, but as days go, it may be a perfect one.

Then, of course, Kinji had to jinx it.

“Kirara-san?” someone calls, and they both turn from each other to see a woman standing in front of them.

Kinji doesn’t recognize her. It’s not until Kirara clings to his arm tighter and mumbles a name that he recalls a vague memory of a photo she’d shown him once on her phone.

It was a family photo.

Maybe his luck got all used up from the casino winnings, after all.

.

.

Kinji didn’t expect to find his only classmate on the school grounds, on the first afternoon of their summer break. Kinji had nowhere to go, so he’s staying in the student lodgings over the break, but Kirara had left that morning to go to her family. Whether she intended to stay for the break, or to simply drop by, she didn’t tell Kinji.

“Thought you went home.” he says, eyeing his best friend, who was sitting hunched over on the steps on the path between the school buildings and the training grounds, knees tucked to her chest.

“I did.” Kirara says, voice muffled as her face is buried in her arms. “I’m back.”

Kinji grunts, putting his phone away in his pocket before sitting down next to her. “That was fast.”

Kirara looks up at him. The puffiness of her eyes, plus the red on her cheeks and nose are telling.

Kinji furrows his brows and frowns. “Not good?”

“Not good.” she barely manages to choke out, her voice cracking before she hides her face in her arms again.

It’s almost involuntary to Kinji, as he finds himself wrapping his arm across her back, settling his grip on her shoulder and pulling her close to his side. Kirara goes, surrendering her weight on him, but not uncurling from the shaking, trembling ball she had retreated into.

“It was-… I really hoped-… Kin-chan-”

“It’s fine.” he says, keeping his voice even. “You’ll just stay here. With me. We’ll be fine.”

Even as close as they’ve gotten, Kirara had let him in on very little about her family life. Her mother died when she was little. Her father is strict and valued being “proper”. Her father’s new wife is a nice enough lady. Kirara never said anything negative, but from context, he’d deduced that the woman must have always been “father’s wife”, the woman of the house, more than a proper mother figure to Kirara. She has a half-brother – her father’s and stepmother’s son – and all Kinji knew is that the kid is in primary school, that he and Kirara weren’t the closest due to their age gap but they got along. He’s a good, normal kid.

Kirara had been nervous when she left that morning, but Kinji also saw the tiny smidge of hope there. He asked if she wanted him to come, at least walk her home or something – but she turned him down with a cheerful smile.

Now he stays still and steady, until the sniffles and shaking subside, until Kirara resurfaces from her now wet sleeves and presses her forehead against the side of his chest instead.

“I made sure. I made sure to go while he wasn’t home.” she says, between catching her breath. “Sayuri-san let me in. She didn’t-… She looked surprised, ‘cause, well, look at me, right?” Kirara chuckles, wiping her tears with her sleeve. “But she was nice. She’s always nice. Even asked me how I’m doing, how’s school…”

She trails off, seemingly getting lost. Kinji has to squeeze her shoulder to ground her. “And then…?”

“My dad got home. I guess his schedule’s changed.” Kirara takes a breath, visibly steels herself so she won’t break down again. “He said… a lot of things.”

“Kira-”

“Sayuri-san was nice to me so I thought maybe he would be nice too. Would at least… try, y’know?” Kirara chuckles bitterly. “I think I just-… he said I should change.”

Kinji stiffens beside her, and it takes a lot of self-control for him to keep calm. “Change.”

“Yeah. Change, he said – before Takki-chan gets home from school and thinks ‘this’-” She gestures at herself – her entire being, her pastel hoodie and checkered skirt and almost shoulder-length hair. “-is normal.”

“That’s bullshit.” Kinji growls. “You’re plenty normal.”

Kirara lets out a wet laugh, and sniffs before she continues. She straightens up, tucking strands of hair behind her ears. “So I told him not to worry, I won’t be staying anyway. I just came to get some of my things, right? So there.”

“Kirara, you shouldn’t listen to-”

“I don’t care, Kin-chan.” she pouts, shaking her head like she’s shaking off all the things she’d heard that day. “Well, I guess I’m a bit pissed off. I was in such a hurry to go, I forgot to grab some of the stuff I actually had to get! My old Tamagotchi, and some manga I told Toge-chan I’d lend him. And my Badtz-maru plushie! I really liked that one. Y’know, it was the only plushie I could keep because he’s not super cute, and he’s not pink or girly, so my dad can’t say anything about it, really? Ugh, I’m gonna miss that thing-”

She keeps going and Kinji lets her rant, lets her get all of it out. She passes them off as funny, as silly complaints, but by the end of it all, he could tell how exhausted she feels. She slumps against him again, her smile bittersweet as she reaches out and gingerly pats his knee.

“Sorry, Kin-chan… I bet you didn’t think you’d be stuck here with me for the whole break.”

Kinji chuckles, moving to settle his hand on her head, ruffling her hair and making her groan in complaint. “Nah. You’re the one stuck here with me.”

It’s the last time they would talk about her family for a long time.

.

.

Kinji remembers that particular moment because he found himself out in the city the very next day, coming back to the dorms, barging in Kirara’s room while she was watching some drama series, and handing her a plushie of a very big, very round and very pink Kirby riding on top of a chunky yellow star.

(“I couldn’t find a Badtz-maru.” he’d said, when she looked at the plushie and then at him with those big starry eyes. “But this one’s got a star so maybe you’d like it. And nobody here will give a shit that it’s pink.”)

Kinji shakes off the memory now, as he hears Kirara’s voice saying a familiar name. “Sayuri-san.” she says, almost in a whisper, almost like she’s telling him who the woman is, rather than actually acknowledging the person in front of them.

“Kirara-san, I thought that was you.” the woman – no – Sayuri, Kirara’s father’s wife – says now as she steps forward. The smile on her gentle face looked genuine but hesitant, and she stops in her tracks when Kirara takes half a step back from her.

Kinji doesn’t miss the way the woman addressed his friend. ‘Kirara-san’. Not ‘Kirara-chan’, or even ‘Kirara-kun’. Distant. Formal. Like Kirara was a guest in her house. For all Kinji knew, maybe that’s how it was.

Kirara doesn’t exactly hide behind him, but he does angle his arm slightly in a gesture that could only say ‘You have to go through me first’.

Sayuri looks at him and then down at the ground, obviously intimidated, maybe even scared. Kinji knows how his presence can be to most people, and has always known how his physique and appearance are a stark contrast to Kirara’s more unassuming one. It’s one of the things that make them a good team, whether they were exorcising curses or just fighting against the rest of the world.

“It’s… a surprise… to see you today.” Sayuri pushes on, shakily sending a small smile towards Kirara. Kinji feels his friend’s grip on his arm loosen just slightly, as the woman then turns to him, still anxious but powering through – “M-My name is Hoshi Sayuri, I am Kirara-san’s stepmother. It’s nice to meet… Kirara-san’s friend?”

“Hakari.” Kinji provides, still cautious. At any other time he might opt to sound harsher, but Kirara hasn’t let go of his arm, and Hoshi Sayuri hasn’t said or done anything to warrant such treatment. Yet.

“Hakari-san.” Hoshi Sayuri says, and she bows slightly, so polite that Kinji couldn’t help but nod in acknowledgement.

To his surprise, Kirara steps forward. “Kinji is my- was my-… We were classmates.” She hasn’t let go of his arm, but she looks less anxious, her voice more sure. “We’re both… not in that school, anymore.”

“I see.” Sayuri nods, honest but visibly wary of how they might respond. “Yes, we-… Your father, he received a letter informing him of the… situation.”

“Oh.” Kirara mumbles, looking down. “Of course he would.”

Sayuri looks back at her for a moment, perhaps considering what she could say after that. “I’m sorry to… intrude.” There’s a pause – for breath or for composure, maybe both. She turns her head and realizes they’re right in front of a cafe – it’s the pretty cafe that Kirara and Kinji were heading towards. “Kirara-san, can I trouble you for a moment? Would you-… you and Hakari-san, like to sit down with me for a drink?”

.

For all of Kirara’s talk about all the sweet things with long names that she’d read off the menu, she goes and orders a simple iced coffee.

That’s not a promising start, so when Kinji moves to sit at a different table than Kirara and her stepmother’s, and Kirara instead tugs at his shirt to get him to stay, he stays.

This is weird, Kinji thinks. He has never had to sit down and meet a girl’s parent before. Not with his girlfriends, because those relationships never really went anywhere. He supposes if he was ever going to sit down with someone for moral support (or backup) in a conversation like this, of course it would be for Kirara.

“I’ve been very worried for you, Kirara-san.” Sayuri starts, hands clasped in her lap, looking down at her iced tea. “I was very sorry for how we left things, when you last came home… Then when we received the letter from your school months ago, I hoped you would come back or at least let us know where you’ve gone to, just so we know you’re safe-”

Kirara puts her beverage down on the table hastily as she shakes her head. “It’s fine! I’m fine. That was all my father, and you… you were kind to me when I came home, I just couldn’t-… Father doesn’t want me home, not like this anyway, and the school was-… Well, they didn’t want me either, so I left. You shouldn’t-… Don’t be sorry. I’m okay. Thank you for worrying about me.”

Kinji could tell that was all true. In all the times Kirara mentioned her stepmother, she only said that Sayuri-san was kind to her, and a good wife and mother to her husband and son. Kirara never held anything against the woman, and she still doesn’t.

Sayuri looks back at her, her expression a mix of relief and regret. “I’m glad to see that you’re doing well, I just… I wish I could have… done more. That day, your father had been very cruel, and I couldn’t-”

“There’s nothing that could be done about that. He’s always been like that, even before I-…” Kirara stops short. Her hands fiddle with the hem of her white dress on her lap. “He had always and will always expect me to be something else, Sayuri-san. That’s not your fault. You’ve been very kind.”

“Still. All those years we’ve lived together. I never-…” Sayuri lets out a sigh, as she looks at Kirara with regret. “I could never hope to replace your mother, but maybe I should have been more involved. You’ve always been so independent, so I was afraid if I tried to get any closer, it would be overstepping. But… I might have made you feel like you couldn’t rely on me. On anyone.”

Kirara shakes her head again, this time smiling a little, though her voice comes off shaky. “I didn’t think that. It’s just-… I could take care of myself by then. And you had my dad and Takki-chan to worry about. It’s really okay-”

“I could have worried about you too.” Sayuri insists. “I know you are very smart and capable, but you deserve to feel supported, still.”

Kirara just looks at her then. She is so quiet that for a moment, Kinji contemplates on taking her hand, just to ground her and pull her back to the present. But then her hands hurriedly go to wipe the wetness growing in her eyes, and she smiles, chuckling. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Kirara-san… Are you-” At this Kinji doesn’t miss the way the woman looks between Kirara and him. “Are you doing well now? I know the school gave you a stipend, but I don’t know if you were able to save those, and it’s been months since-”

“Oh, I’m fine! We-” Kirara looks towards Kinji for a moment, and waits for him to nod before she turns back to Sayuri. “We have a place! It’s- Well, it’s not fancy but we’re not homeless or squatting somewhere shady, and Kin-chan is legal, so he can take care of papers and stuff. I’ll be 18 soon too so I can do more things- And we both have jobs!”

Sayuri nods at this, obviously keeping track of the information. She leans forward slightly, expression open and curious. “You have a job, Kirara-san?”

Well. Kirara has a job. Kinji has… earnings. Kinji doesn’t point that out right now, especially as Sayuri has seemed to have locked in now. The apologies and melodrama are over – now Kinji can see the mother in her. One with practical but well-meaning scrutiny.

“Mm-hm.” Kirara nods, her smile lighter now. “At the salon. The people treat me well and they pay fairly.”

“I see…” Sayuri nods again. “But it must keep you busy. Are you eating well?”

“Of course! I-”

Kinji snorts before he could think about it, effectively cutting Kirara off, and catching Sayuri’s attention.

Kirara narrows her eyes at him. “What?”

“What?” Kinji blinks at her, then coughs to clear his throat. He notes Sayuri looking at him intently.

For someone who’s had such a gentle demeanor so far, Kinji is now finding her look a bit… daunting? Mothers, he thinks. They do this.

“Nothing.” he grunts out. “It’s just- You said you’re eating well.”

Kirara pouts. “I am!”

Kinji averts his gaze as he says, “You don’t eat your veggies. You give them all to me.”

Kirara gasps, and is quick to turn to Sayuri, who is now frowning slightly. “Sayuri-san, I-”

Kinji grins now, noting her panic. He continues, “You also eat a lot of junk food and too much sweets.”

“Kirara-san…” Sayuri says in that chastising manner that mothers do when they’re not angry, but they’re very concerned.

“Snitch.” Kirara says as she half-heartedly elbows him. “I don’t complain about your drinking!”

“I’m allowed to drink in my own place-” Kinji growls out, then promptly remembers their company. He notes Sayuri’s raised, expectant brows and quickly adds, “…and I do it in moderation.” After a beat, he adds, “Ma’am.”

This is something even Kirara won’t be able to argue against. Kinji doesn’t get blackout or senseless drunk. Never. Besides gambling, he also fights for money, and he is all too aware of how terrible alcohol is for that.

And he’s right – Kirara doesn’t dispute that as much as she blinks at him and bites her lip, fighting off a grin. “Did… Did you say ‘Ma’am’?”

Kinji shrugs, doing his best not to sound too grumpy as he avoids looking at both Kirara and Sayuri this time. “Well, what do you want me to call your parent?”

Kirara giggles, and turns to grin at said parent. “Sayuri-san, you’re amazing. Kin-chan is never this polite to anyone.”

At that, Kinji finally elbows her back, although there’s no force behind it. “Hey.”

Sayuri smiles, seeing this exchange, nodding appeasingly at both teenagers. “I understand, Hakari-san. Thank you for looking after Kirara-san.”

Then she looks at Kirara again. “Please try to eat properly. Especially while you’re still growing and… You are taking medications, I assume?”

Kirara looks down sheepishly, tucking strands of hair behind her ears. “Y-Yes…”

The woman’s voice stays calm and even. “And you feel well? No side-effects, things like that?”

Kirara shakes her head. “No… No side-effects. So far.”

“That’s good.” Sayuri smiles again. “I’m glad you’re healthy.”

“Thank you.” Kirara replies, smiling back, pink in her cheeks.

Kinji thinks this must be the first time someone other than him has checked in on Kirara like this. Sayuri has asked with so much care, never once being intrusive while staying supportive. He can tell how much Kirara appreciates this, and by the deep breath he feels her take right beside him, he gets a sense that she might be close to feeling overwhelmed.

He doesn’t know how she might feel if he takes her hand in front of her family, so he does something more subtle, nudging her knee with his under the table. He sees her glance at him before nudging him back.

They hear an intake of breath from Sayuri’s side, and see her frowning slightly at her wristwatch. “Ah… I hate to leave so soon, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to.” She sends them both an apologetic look. “There’s still some errands I have to run…”

Kirara blinks and waves her hands to reassure the woman. “It’s okay, Sayuri-san. I’m glad we got to do this.”

Kinji looks between the two, then takes initiative and stands up first. “I’ll get the bill.”

As expected, they both try to stop him.

“Kin-chan-”

“Hakari-san, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine.” Kinji says, giving Kirara’s shoulder a squeeze while he nods at Sayuri. “Really.”

He walks off before they could argue further, and even as Sayuri makes to follow him, he hears Kirara stop her, telling her to “let Kin-chan take care of it.”

Kinji takes his time paying up, giving them their privacy. He is out of earshot, but when he glances over, he sees that Sayuri has reached out and is holding Kirara’s hand, meanwhile Kirara is nodding at whatever the woman is saying to her.

When he gets back, both of them are ready to go, and he only nods and picks up Kirara’s bag of plushies before following them out of the cafe.

Outside, on the sidewalk, Sayuri bows.

“Hakari-san… Thank you for taking care of Kirara-san.”

Kinji’s eyes widen, and he couldn’t think of anything else to do but just bow back. “I-… It’s nothing- There’s no need for thanks. Hoshi-san. Kirara is my- She takes care of me as well.”

“I wish you both well.” The woman says, smiling at them both. “Kirara-san, you know how to reach me, if you need anything.”

“Yes, Sayuri-san. Thank you. Again.” Kirara replies, bowing as well.

Sayuri turns to leave then, but before she can walk off, Kirara calls to her again.

“Ah! Actually- Sayuri-san, I-”

Kirara turns towards Kinji and tugs at his arm, the one carrying the plushies, wordlessly telling him to lift the bag higher. She starts to rummage through it, looking for something.

Eventually she finds what she’s looking for – one of the smaller plushies, one with a keyring that means it’s intended to be hung like a charm. It’s a cute chibi red-themed sentai character.

“Please give this to Takki-chan.” Kirara says as she hands the little plush to her stepmother. “You don’t have to tell him it’s from me. Just-… I hope he does well on the baseball team. He was- I know he was excited about it.”

Sayuri looks at the toy before looking at Kirara and nodding. “Of course.” she says, smiling. “He will love this. And I’ll make sure he knows that it’s from his big sister.”

Kirara only nods and looks down. Kinji knows from the tension in her shoulders that she’s hiding from Sayuri how much she’s getting choked up from emotion.

He is sure Sayuri can tell though, but she knows that she has to step back now, so she just bows again and walks away for real.

They watch her go. Kinji looks down when he feels Kirara cling to his arm again.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yeah.” Kirara nods.

Gentle as he can, he pries her hands from his arm, only so he can wrap it around her instead and pull her flush to his side.

Kirara whimpers as he does this, and hides her face in his chest, obviously trying not to cry or get too emotional out on the sidewalk, in public.

His hand on her shoulder trails down to rub her back instead, and pretty soon he feels her shoulders relax as her emotions settle.

“She said…” Kirara stops, hesitates, but when his hand settles on her waist and squeezes lightly, she continues. “I looked happier today than she has ever seen me in the years she knew me.”

Kinji thinks about it. He thinks that he and Hoshi Sayuri must have very different points of reference, but he is inclined to agree with her.

He’s been thinking the same thing all day, after all. It’s the reason he could hardly take his eyes off his best friend.

“Well,” Kinji concedes with an easy shrug. “Ya better be. I got you like a hundred plushies.”

That makes Kirara laugh, and she slaps his chest half-heartedly but doesn’t argue the fact. She pulls away, finally, and takes his hand to tug him with her to start walking again.

“You didn’t get a hundred. Just, like, ten. Fifteen? Definitely less than twenty!” she says, and gets twirled around in retaliation. Her white dress flutters around her thighs and she laughs again.

“Day’s not yet over, princess.” Kinji says with a grin. “I can still get you more.”

Kirara shakes her head as she swings their hands left and right. She’s walking backwards again, compelling Kinji to hold on to her hand tighter lest her chunky boots finally trip over each other again. “Nah, I’m good. Where would we even put it? Kira-kira Kirby can barely fit in the room!”

Kinji shrugs. “So where to next?”

She thinks about it, begins to say something and hesitates again. Then, after a moment, she says, “I… want piercings?”

Okay. Kinji didn’t expect that, but it wasn’t a surprise either. Still – “Again?”

“You said anything I want.” Kirara says, cheeks puffed, lips in a pout.

“I said wherever you want. Like places.” Kinji says with a roll of his eyes. “But, fine. It’s your day.”

“Yay! Thank you, Kin-chan!” Kirara rejoices, jumping up and down before she turns from him and starts skipping instead.

Kinji chuckles, and lets her drag him with her to her favorite illicit piercing shop.

This is their day, after all.

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---

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When Kirara finishes her shift, Kinji isn’t waiting outside the salon yet, which is strange.

For someone who regularly ran late for most things, with enough of an intimidating presence to make no one complain about that fact, he was rarely late when coming to pick Kirara up from her work.

He’d usually walk her home first, even if he had to go out again to go gambling or fighting somewhere, or the occasional date with the occasional girlfriend.

Kirara usually insists on coming with him for the gambling or fighting. He agrees to take her sometimes. Most times he refuses.

She usually got a heads-up for those times, though. She wonders what’s up now.

She’s starting to wonder if she should text him to ask if she should head home by herself, when her phone rings. A call. From Kinji.

“Kin-chan-”

“I’m on my way.” he says immediately, sounding… off, to Kirara’s ears.

She doesn’t know why – he sounds bordering on angry, but Kirara can’t be completely sure. She blinks. “Um. Okay? Are you-”

“Be there soon. I-… Yeah.”

That sounds like a dismissal, and Kirara hurries to ask before he can hang up. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just-… Fuck.” – definitely upset about something, then.

“Kinji.” Kirara says firmly.

“Sorry, it’s fine. Alright.” Kinji groans. Kirara knows that tone, at least – he sounds like he’s particularly annoyed at something. “I’m trying to break up with- She’s being difficult. Whatever. I’ll be there soon, don’t go.”

Oh. So it’s not a gambling or a fighting thing. It’s a girlfriend thing, then.

Kirara keeps her distance from that.

“It’s okay.” Kirara suppresses a sigh and tries to sound neutral as she says, “I’ll wait.”

“Thanks. I’ll hurry up-”

“You don’t have to-” She frowns when she hears the short beep of him hanging up. “…rush.”

Kirara looks down as she bites her cheek and eyes the messy shoelaces of one of her sneakers.

Kinji had tied those up, just this morning, when they came undone as they walked on their way to the salon. He dropped her off to work these days, too.

No wonder the salon ladies think Kinji is her boyfriend.

Only he isn’t. And Kirara isn’t Kinji’s girlfriend.

She doesn’t want to be, not really. She’s happy with what they have now, and with the way Kinji is with his girlfriends… Well.

Kinji doesn’t really look for girlfriends as much as he occasionally keeps one.

Some girl usually throws herself at Kinji, and if she’s lucky, he lets her stick around for a while. He lets her drape herself on him and sometimes hands her a credit card and lets her get whatever she wants.

At least, that’s what Kirara usually sees, on the few times she’s there. She usually keeps her distance. The girls don’t like it when she’s around. Kirara doesn’t like being around them much, either. And that’s saying something because Kirara knows she can get along with girls – she got along well enough with Maki, with her coworkers and customers at the salon…

She asked Kinji about the girlfriends one time, and all he said was “They make me look good.” – and that’s it. Like how a fancy car or an expensive watch makes a guy look “good”.

Maybe that’s important to Kinji, when he’s out there in the casinos and poker tables and underground fighting pits. They make him look good, confident. Powerful.

None of the girls stick around for long, though. They usually get tired of Kinji, or they don’t like it when Kinji takes his card back, or they were just in it to look good for a time, too.

At least, to Kirara’s knowledge, Kinji had never hurt any of them, and he didn’t take them anywhere dangerous. Kinji never took any of them home either.

They’re never mistreated. They’re just never treated… special.

It all makes Kirara think of Maki. Maki never liked any of this – never liked the way girls would latch on to a strong guy for appearances, never liked the way Kinji treated them like status symbols. She’s gone off about it once, asked Kirara how she could stick around someone like Kinji.

Kirara misses Maki sometimes. They weren’t the closest, but they were the only two girls in the school for however long it lasted. She always admired how the younger girl held herself.

These last few days, Kinji’s latest girlfriend has been proving… difficult. Kirara herself had gotten annoyed at how Kinji’s phone kept ringing, specially while he was home – texts and calls almost every hour.

It started after that day – their day – when Kinji cleared up his schedule and went on a day out with Kirara, just the two of them. Kirara would admit she was too thrilled and busy that day to worry about what Kinji’s current fling would think.

Now it’s apparent that the girl didn’t like it. Of course she wouldn’t. That was basically a date, even though Kinji probably just thought of it as best friends hanging out.

After a whole day of annoying texts and calls, the girl – Kirara doesn’t even know this one’s name – seemed to calm down a bit when Kinji gave her his credit card again, the one he took back to treat Kirara.

But pretty soon, the texts and calls came back, with a vengeance.

Whatever. Not Kirara’s business. What did one of the salon girls call it? Ah. Kirara is keeping her peace. Yep, that’s it.

And anyway, wasn’t Kinji saying something about breaking up? Maybe it’s over. Kinji didn’t like it when the girls got too all up in his business either, anyway.

She hears her best friend approach before she sees him.

“Hey. Sorry. What a fucking mess.”

Kirara snaps out of her 1thoughts. Kinji must have been closer than she thought he was because he’s already standing right in front of her, and looking down at her with furrowed brows and a distracted frown.

“What happened?” she asks, blinking up at him.

“Nothing. Stuff.” Kinji grunts out. He reaches up and gently toys with some strands of her hair close to her cheeks. Kirara doesn’t flinch, used to the gesture. Kinji does this whenever there’s something new with her hair.

The salon ladies just added some more purple streaks today, to match the one on her bangs. Kirara thinks they’ve been treating her like a doll, but she quite enjoys it. She gets to try a bunch of looks for free.

After he’s done taking in the purple, he just pokes her nose and grins. “Don’t worry about it. Here.”

Kirara looks down and accepts the pink takeout box he hands to her. Through the thin window on the top of it, she sees a small strawberry-flavored cake. “Um, what-”

“Happy birthday.” Kinji says.

“Kin-…?”

“It’s tomorrow, right?” He raises a notched eyebrow. “You reminded me, when we talked to your stepmom the other day. You said it was soon. I almost missed it.”

Kirara nods, looking down at the cake again. She’s barely able to reply. “Y-Yeah…”

“Also…” Kinji rummages through his pocket, then hands her some smaller items. “My gift.”

There’s two of the transparent plastic boxes, with a pair of silver earrings on each one. They’re pretty simple studs, but they’re the style Kirara likes.

“For when your new ones heal, yeah?”

“These are so pretty, Kin-chan!” Kirara says, looking up at him. She knows her cheeks are red and her eyes are shiny. She doesn’t give a shit. He’s seen her much worse. “Thank you.”

Kinji grins back, looking satisfied at her reaction. He looks away as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah. I almost didn’t make it to the shop ‘cause I had to get my card from that-… Nevermind.”

Kirara tilts her head, squinting at him. “That girl who keeps calling and taking your card? Whatsherface?”

“Yeah. Whatsherface.” Kinji chuckles. He takes her tiny everyday bag from her, and the cake box as well. He drapes an arm across her shoulders as they start walking home. “That’s done now.”

Kirara hums, slipping her new earrings into her bag dangling from Kinji’s shoulder, then leaning on him while they walk. “Done like you’ll just give her the card back when she gets pissy again? Or done like you already broke up?”

“The second one.” he says, straight to the point. “Already forgot her name.”

“Hmm… That’s kinda mean.”

Kinji scoffs. “Mean? Thought you hated her.”

“I don’t hate any of your girlfriends…” Kirara muses. “I don’t really know any of them enough to hate them.”

“Well, this one hated you and almost maxed out my card so I can be mean to her.”

“You ignored her and spoiled me for a whole day. Of course she’d hate me, dummy.”

“It’s my card. I can spoil whoever I want with it.”

That’s another thing, Kirara thinks. Kinji will let his girlfriends buy almost whatever they want with his credit card – their picks, always. Kirara had never seen him actually buy them anything himself.

Meanwhile, he bought Kirara gifts all the time, and those ones he always surprised her with because he thought she’d like them, or he got them because he saw her looking at them. She never had to ask.

Kirara doesn’t know what to make of it. She loves the gifts, of course. She loves that Kinji takes the time and effort to get them for her. Something he never does for other girls.

Something that makes her feel like she’s not like the other girls – of course she isn’t. But she doesn’t know how to feel about it. If it was good or not. If it made her more special… or less.

“I’m just saying. If I was your girlfriend, I would be so upset.” Kirara says, pouting up at him.

Kinji snorts, glancing at her and grinning when he sees her face, like she said something funny. “Well, good thing you’re not, then.”

“Kin-chan~” she whines. “If I was your girlfriend, would you find another girl to spoil more?”

“Kirara~” he matches her tone, and with anyone else Kirara would think they were mocking her, but with Kinji, she knows it’s affectionate. Maybe it’s the fingers gently carding through her hair. Maybe it’s how he leans down and nuzzles the top of her head and if she pretends hard enough it almost feels like a little kiss. “You don’t wanna be my girlfriend. You’re too sensible and you think I’m terrible at it anyway.”

“I dropped out of school. Not the most sensible.” she grumbles, not pulling away. Maybe she even burrows closer to him, now that she feels safer, with emptier streets and less people.

Kinji straightens up again, his free hand settling back on her shoulder, thumb rubbing circles on the bare skin there. “Why’re you on this, anyway? Don’t like your gift? Did you want another flavor of cake?”

Kirara shakes her head, thankful her best friend isn’t ticklish because she is tucked right under his chin. “No. I love the cake. I love the gift. I love you.”

Kinji chuckles and only says, “Good.”

.

They do this dance sometimes.

It really is unavoidable, whenever one of Kinji’s girlfriends gets brought up, because he always passed them off as temporary, relative to Kirara.

Because Kirara is his best friend, a girl, who despite their many differences and unstable chaotic life together, is somehow secure that they will always be together.

She couldn’t help but wonder if they ever crossed that line, would she become temporary too?

She’s been bringing it up more often recently – usually passing them off as jokes.

Kinji always responded in kind – that he’s not someone Kirara would want to be with, in that way.

Like that one time they went thrift shopping, and Kirara shoved him into an expensive-looking second-hand black fur coat. She’d seen how Kinji’s eyes lit up when he saw himself in the mirror, liking the look. She’d giggled and said he looked like some legit big boss, and all he’s missing is a fancy lady in his arm. Kinji had laughed, then offered her said arm.

(“Kin-chan, what a move! If I had a crush on you, I would swoon.” she laughed with him, but clung to his arm anyway.)

(“Well, you’re not swooning, so it’s all good.” Kinji grinned, patting the coat down. “I’m getting this. You? You were looking at those belts, right? Hand ‘em over.”)

Another time, when Kinji came home in a bad mood, and Kirara abandoned her doomscrolling to listen to him rant about the latest girl who was angry at him “for no reason”.

(By the end of his very unreliable retelling, Kirara’s first reaction had been to hit him with a pillow. “That is stupid! You can’t tell your girlfriend that I’m prettier, Kin-chan! If you really think that, you could have just made me your girlfriend.”)

(“You’d hate that.” Kinji rolled his eyes. “It’s true though.”)

(“What is?”)

(“You’re prettier.”)

(“Ugh, you’re so stupiiiiid…”)

(“Maybe.” he huffed. “Not blind, though.”)

(So she hit him again.)

And that one other time when they were drinking, and Kinji casually mentioned that the current girlfriend had blocked his number and gone radio silent, so it’s probably over.

(“…And you’re not upset?”)

(“Eh.” he shrugged. “She was boring.”)

(In the haze of tipsiness, Kirara giggled and asked, “Ne, Kin-chan… If I was your girlfriend and I ghosted you, will you be upset?”)

(Kinji laughed a bit, that loose laughter he does when he’s pleasantly drunk. “Ne, Kirara-chan…” he started, and Kirara tried to blame the alcohol for how she suddenly felt all warm. “Remember one time when you were so pissed at me so you blocked my number? But you didn’t last a day ‘cause you wanted boba and you were too lazy to go out so you had me do it? Yeah, no, I won’t be upset if you ghosted me ‘cause you’ll probably be calling again in like, five hours, tops, to make me buy you some matcha strawberry chocolate coconut whatever drink you want.”)

(“Unfair comparison.” Kirara said, sulking, but then she looked at him and she had to freeze, because he was looking back at her and his eyes were all soft.)

(It was probably the alcohol, she told herself.)

(“Would you prefer that? Make me your girlfriend, then. Since you’re so sure I won’t ghost you.”)

(“You don’t have to be my girlfriend.” Kinji said, eyes already closed, ready to doze off. “Y’know I’ll get you your crazy drink anytime you want. Just ask.”)

It’s all hypothetical, Kirara tries to convince herself. It’s just fun to think about, to bug Kinji about it, sometimes.

It is a dance. It’s fun. Kirara likes dancing.

And it’s nice, to get constant reassurance that she doesn’t need to be one of the girls with perfect breasts and hips and makeup, who dress all fancy, who throw themselves at Kinji to waste his money, to be shown off in poker games to make his “associates” think he looks “good”.

Kirara didn’t ever need to be one of those girls and yet she’s still always Kinji’s priority.

Why would she want a silly title when she already has that?

.

Kirara perches her chin on her hands and smiles as Kinji takes his lighter out and lights the lone candle of her birthday cake.

“Kin-chan…” she calls across the table. “You bought me a cake. After you told my stepmom that I eat too much sweets?”

“I mean, you do.” Kinji shrugs, and sends her a grin. “But I’m not your parent so it’s not my job to fix that. I’m a proper bad influence.”

Kirara couldn’t suppress a giggle in response to that statement.

“You say that when all you’ve been doing is spoiling me like some princess, and keeping me safe, like, in the streets and stuff. I had to literally get on your back so you’d take me to that fight last week.” Then, seeing her best friend raise an eyebrow at her, she grins back teasingly. “If you really were a bad influence, you’d be kissing me or something.”

Kinji scoffs. “Uh. You’re like. A minor.”

Kirara blinks. Is that why-…? No, it can’t be. Kinji is two years older than her, but he didn’t seem to be someone who’d think too much about that small a gap, especially when they’re this young and were classmates, anyway.

But still. That’s a loophole. Kirara decides to push her luck – Kinji didn’t teach her how to gamble for nothing.

“Ehhhh~ Not after I blow out this candle! I’ll be 18!” she says with a pout, the one she wears when she’s trying to be cute.

“Sure, kid.” Kinji chuckles. “Blow the candle then, and join us horrible adults.”

“Ah! Maybe my birthday wish can be like, to be your girlfriend. Will you do it?” she asks airily, her pout turning to a grin again.

Kinji has both of his brows up now, and he blinks past the cake and at her. “Kirara.” he says, careful, before sighing and running a tired hand down his face. “Princess-”

Oh. Oh, no.

She shouldn’t have asked.

“You really don’t-”

It stings. What a way to celebrate turning 18, Kirara thinks. But she’s done this a lot of times before and she should be used to it. She’s not serious, anyway. She’s never serious.

She just hoped, a tiny bit. She didn’t even know why. She should have known. And this is for the best, right?

Kinji’s relationships with those girls never lasted long. Kinji cares about her so much already, and he never says it like she does but Kirara knows he loves her, in whatever way that makes him treat her all precious and careful like this.

So Kirara laughs it off, and as usual, she pivots.

“Alright, then. Don’t make me your girlfriend.” she says before he can even finish his rejection. She makes sure her voice is light, airy, like it doesn’t matter all that much. “I’ll just think of something else! You’ll give me anything I want, right?”

Kinji isn’t looking at her as he processes that. “I-… Well-”

Kirara stands up from the table and picks up the little cake.

“Sayuri-san said I should avoid late night snacks, so I’ll eat this in the morning.”

She puts it away in the fridge, and rounds the table, planning to escape to the bedroom they share. She knows Kinji will wait until he’s sure she’s done changing and preparing for bed before he goes too.

She stops in her tracks in front of him. She lets herself hesitate for a moment – only a moment – then she pushes through.

“Good night, Kin-chan. Thanks for the cake.”

She leans down and presses a kiss to her best friend’s cheek, then walks away.

.

.

---

.

.

When Kinji wakes up that morning, the futon on Kirara’s side of the room is already neatly folded and put away. He hears sounds of cooking in the kitchen, which is rare but not unheard of. Kirara does cook. Sometimes.

Well. Kirara can fry things.

Sometimes.

He takes a moment to watch his best friend in the kitchen. She’s too busy to notice him, looking between the utensils and ingredients laid out before her on the counter, and her phone propped up on its stand. There’s some city pop track playing out loud.

Kinji yawns to announce his presence by the doorway. “Are you cooking, like, actual food?”

Kirara doesn’t turn to him, laser-focused on some message on her phone screen. “I asked Sayuri-san to send me some recipes and stuff. Just some easy ones…” she says, distracted. “It’s probably gonna be horrible, I know, but I’m gonna learn! I am getting tired of takeout and our all-brown diet.”

Kinji nods indulgently, even though she cannot see. “Okay. That’s a lotta eggs…”

“I’m gonna make ugly omurice.”

“Ugly?”

Kirara finally looks at him over her shoulders. “Setting expectations.” she says with a wink before focusing back on her bunch of eggs.

That’s when he realizes that her dress is so short because it’s not a dress. It’s one of his shirts that she had stolen from him one laundry day back when they still lived in the student dorms.

Kinji inhales, idly wondering what he did right – or wrong – in his past life to be in this situation.

“We still got some bread if you’re hungry already. They’re probably not expired yet.” Kirara says, perhaps reading his silence as boredom.

At least she’s talking to him again. Not that she ever stopped – that’s difficult with how they lived together. But there was definitely some weird vibe between them for a bit, after the birthday thing.

Maybe Kirara just felt embarrassed – the whole thing with making her birthday wish about being his girlfriend was very direct – maybe she thought he took it seriously and that… that was awkward.

Kinji didn’t take it seriously. Kirara always jokes about the girlfriend thing. If Kinji took every one of those seriously, he’d probably go insane. He’d have gone insane months ago. A year ago, even.

See, he’s sitting dumbly at their dining table with an empty mug that he forgot he even took, watching his best friend try and miserably fail to flip an omelette, and Kinji wants to scream. She makes some kind of disappointed noise and he thinks it’s the cutest sound in the world. She leans down to pout at the horrible looking eggs in the pan, and when Kinji’s eyes stray downwards, he gets a glimpse of the black lace trim of her silk shorts under the stolen shirt and that is the final straw.

Kinji places his face in his hands and lets out a pained groan.

“Kin-chan?” he hears Kirara ask, because of course she’s concerned. “What’s up? Headache? Did you drink last night?”

“No, I’m good.” Kinji answers, taking a breath, refusing to look at her. “I’m just sleepy.”

“Go back to bed then, you big baby. Why are you up so early, anyway?” she chuckles. “Maybe when you wake up again, I’ll have a better-looking omelette.”

He looks up at that, if only to send her an amused look. “Eggs are eggs, princess. I can eat them ugly.”

“What, you don’t think I can make not-ugly ones?” Kirara says, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I just think you don’t have to make it pretty. We’ll just end up eating ‘em anyway.” Kinji huffs, unimpressed. “If you really wanna eat those nice, fluffy, perfect ones, I’ll just take you to one of those places and someone can make that for you. You can take photos and everything.”

Kirara frowns, huffs right back at him and puts the pan down.

“Hakari-kun.” she starts, like she’s about to give him a lecture. She probably is, with the way she props one hand on her waist, and raises the other one, index finger pointing up.

Oh, hell. Now Kinji wants to run.

“When someday you find yourself a wife and she is trying her best to make you something nice, you don’t go ‘Let’s just eat out, there’s a professional that could do that better!’ – that is so rude and inconsiderate-”

Fuck. She’s talking about some future wife now. And she’s standing there, in the kitchen of their home, and Kinji can’t picture anyone else there, really.

He feels so lucky. He feels so doomed.

“Where did that come from?” he asks, though he can sorta see how she found those specific dots and connected them and ended up with this scenario.

“You gotta stop backseat cooking.” Kirara says, shrugging as she turns back to her omelette-making experiments, clearly not making a big deal out of what she just said. “Actually, forget about a wife, this is about anyone nice enough to make you something… including me!”

“My point was I’ll eat whatever as long as it’s not poison.” Kinji sighs. “Actually I’ll probably even survive poison, if I really tried. I think. Wanna check?”

He really should fill up his mug with something. He is looking supremely stupid just sitting down with an empty mug while ogling his roommate’s ass and legs in her sleep shorts. Admittedly, this isn’t the first time he’s done so, but this look in particular is especially getting to him. It’s probably the shirt that’s doing him in.

Maybe a drink will fix his brain or some shit.

“I don’t even know why you think I’d find a wife.” he grumbles as he goes to put something in his mug. Anything. Instant coffee.

“Hm.” Kirara hums as she goes back to her cooking, starting her second attempt. “Yeah, that’s a good point… You can’t even keep a girlfriend…”

He knows she’s kidding, for real this time. She sounds too playful to be serious, but he also knows where she’s about to go-

“Hey, don’t-”

Of course before he can stop her, she gets to her punchline. “But y’know what would be an easy solution-?”

“Kirara.” he says, cutting. Words follow before he can think of his tone. “It gets to a point-”

She stops abruptly, and in his peripheral vision he catches her turn towards him and just as quickly look away again.

“O-Oh. Yeah, okay.” she says, voice small. “Sorry, Kin-chan, the whole girlfriend thing’s a bit tired now, right?” She clears her throat, and when she speaks next, she sounds more cheerful. Kinji knows it’s fake when she continues, “Ah… I gotta think of another bit. Something you’ll hate just as much…”

Kinji bites his cheek. He really didn’t mean to sound pissed. He isn’t.

He is simply running out of things to say to avoid confronting this thing.

Kinji isn’t like Kirara. Kinji is not so much a dancer as he is a fighter. Of course his instinctual response wouldn’t be as graceful.

Kirara knows this, too. Kirara never flinches. Kirara, however relaxed and sensible and adaptable she is, takes him as he is, never afraid of how hot he runs. She has a heat that complements Kinji’s fever, that summer sunshine light she has – steady and present.

This is why Kinji easily notices whenever she goes cold. Like clouds passing by, like shades being drawn.

“Kin-chan.” she says softly, when Kinji doesn’t speak for too long. “Let’s just stop, okay?”

She sounds small. Kinji hates that. It reminds him of old Kirara, the one who always had her guard up, who was hiding her true self. The one he got out of Jujutsu High.

Shit. Kinji is fucking this up.

He puts his mug down and turns, takes the few steps he needs to stand behind his best friend instead. Kirara must know that he’s closer. She’d have sensed it, but she remains with her back to him, looking down at her phone, scrolling aimlessly at her playlist.

Kinji rarely ever apologized for anything. And when he does apologize, it’s usually loud, direct and honest, almost to a fault. Much like himself.

As with everything else, Kirara is his one exception.

For this one, he brushes his knuckles lightly against the back of her arm. Not any harsh poke or nudge. Something fleeting and much more gentle.

He doesn’t do anything more. He waits until Kirara relaxes and leans her back into his chest before he moves any further.

His hands cup her elbows before they slide downward to take her hands. “I’m not mad.”

“I know.” Kirara says, looking down and watching their fingers twine with each other. “I’m not upset.”

Kinji doesn’t say anything, just cages her in his arms with their hands still linked, so she’s being hugged by the both of them.

“I’m not, I swear.” she insists.

“Okay.” Kinji says, perching his chin on the top of her head. God, she fits perfectly against him. “We’re good.”

“We are.” Kirara nods. He feels her squirm slightly. “But, Kin-chan, I just-… Listen.”

“Listening.”

“I can take it, y’know.” she says, resting against him. “You don’t like me that way. It’s okay. That happens. It’s whatever.” she sighs and Kinji feels her squeeze his hands in hers. “But you’re always saying I don’t want that, like I won’t like being with you, as if it’s… impossible, like I shouldn’t like you at all? It’s sad and it stopped being fun ‘cause it’s not you and I just… I don’t like it.”

Kinji leans down, pressing his nose into her hair as he holds her tighter.

Kirara lets out a sheepish laugh. “So can we not do that anymore? Please?”

Kinji takes a deep breath.

“Fuck.” he chuckles bitterly. “I got you out of that stupid school so you’ll be free to do what you wanna do. I didn’t think- I didn’t mean to… just talk over you and tell you what to feel. I screwed up, Kirara.”

“What? No, that’s not- Ahhhh!” Kirara whines, and squirms out of his arms so she can turn around and face him.

Kinji moves to back away, but her hands grab either side of his face so he’s stuck standing there, too close, in an awkward hunch.

“You don’t really mean- You’re taking care of me. I know you are.” Kirara says, looking straight at him with a firm, disapproving frown. “That’s like, all you do when we’re together. You were just a little stupid about it this time.”

When Kinji just stares at her, Kirara rolls her eyes, then throws her arms around his neck and tucks her face into his shoulder. She has to tip-toe to do it, so it feels like it’s less of a hug and more of her clinging to him.

“You know I’m right.” she mumbles into his shirt.

He doesn’t argue. She is right. If there’s one thing he’ll do out of all the other things he does, it’s take care of Kirara. The gambling and fighting keep his fever going, but at the end of the day he goes home and the only thing that would quiet his mind really is knowing Kirara is okay.

And the denials, the “rejections” – stopping her from crossing the line, trying to convince her to stay as she is, happy and free as she grows into herself, never dipping into his chaotic, messy, underground world – that’s a way of taking care of her, too. He will not put her at any risk.

But somehow in all of that he missed that for Kirara to be okay, she needed him to be okay, too.

He’d told her stepmother – “Kirara takes care of me too” – and Kinji is now realizing that he’s been holding her at an arm’s length, holding her back from doing that properly.

Kinji finally moves, settling one hand on her waist and one on her back, rubbing gently.

“Alright.” he breathes out. “Alright, I’ll stop being stupid about it.”

“Good.” Kirara says, letting go and looking up at him, grinning. “About time.”

It’s Kinji’s turn to roll his eyes, and she pats his shoulders, maybe to dismiss him so she can go back to making ugly omelettes, but his hands stay on her waist, squeezing lightly.

“Can you take today off?” he asks, voice low, not quite looking directly at her. “Let me take you somewhere.”

Kirara blinks, only a bit caught off guard. It’s not the first time Kinji has invited her to play hooky with him, to let him take her somewhere. He did this a lot back in school. Nowadays, not so much, maybe because he knows Kirara actually enjoys her job and the people she worked with.

But it’s Kinji. She’ll always go.

“Okay…” she answers, nodding slowly, curiously. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere.” Kinji shrugs. Then, seeing her start to frown in suspicion, he adds, “You’ll see when we get there.”

Kirara raises an eyebrow and puffs her cheeks. Kinji resists the urge to pick her up and squeeze her again – mostly because there’s all sorts of cooking stuff right behind her.

Finally, she nods, and Kinji ruffles her hair before letting her go and stepping away.

After a moment, as he is finally about to have an actual drink from his abandoned mug, Kirara pipes up again.

“Kinji, I swear, if you take me to a place with good pretty omurice-”

“God, no. That’s a different thing!” Kinji groans tiredly. “I’ll fucking eat the ugly omelette, Hoshi. I said I would.”

“Oh. Okay, good!”

The city pop playlist comes on again.

Kinji shakes his head in resignation, because she’s ridiculous and so annoying and he will stay with her forever, if he had anything to say about it.

.

“Y’know I thought you were gonna take me somewhere nice, to like, spoil me again or whatever.” Kirara says, as she clings to Kinji’s arm. “But this kinda place is where you take people to kill them, Kin-chan. Did I piss you off so bad?”

Kinji scoffs, slipping his arm from her hold before draping it across her shoulders instead. “This place is ours.”

Kirara momentarily stops scrutinizing the state of the old parking lot.

“What?”

“This is the club.” Kinji says, grinning.

Kirara looks at him. “Like, the fight club? That club?”

“Yeah.” He nods, eyes roaming as well. He looks proud, excited. “Perfect, right?”

“It kinda is…” Kirara says, breathless, now looking at the empty place in a different light. She tugs at his shirt, eyes sparkling, just as excited. “How’d you get it?”

“So, my ex-”

The sparkles lessen – “Hakari.”

“I know, I know – stick with me here.” he remedies quickly, and backs his plea by moving his hand from her shoulder to her waist, thumb rubbing bare skin under her loose crop top. “My-… Whatsherface, right? She was good for one thing.”

Kirara squirms, face scrunching up. “Ew, Kin-chan…”

“Not like that, god-” Kinji groans, squeezing her waist in a bid for some focus. “Starlight. Just-”

Kirara blinks, cheeks heating up, clearly just more distracted now. “Star-?”

“Y’know what, whatever – she knew a guy, okay?” Kinji explains – well, he tries to. “Actually, I met this guy, who knew a guy, who knew Whatsherface, and after letting her hang around and sponsoring her fuckass shopping sprees, she got me a connect to this guy- actually a bunch of other guys who all like gambling and know a lot of places and shit. Point is, getting all those connections paid off – we’re gonna own this place soon.”

Kirara nods, processing that. Her face breaks into a bright smile as she turns and this time actually jumps up to hug him. “Kin-chan, that’s so awesome!”

Kinji laughs, easily wrapping his arms securely around her and spinning them both around.

When he puts her back on her feet, he leans down so their foreheads touch. “It is. Pretty fucking awesome.”

“What do we do next?” she asks, expression open and eager, her arms still around his neck.

“Repairs. Lights. Music. People.” Kinji shakes his head as he lists all of those out. “‘Course I gotta make more money to make all that happen, but it’s gonna happen.”

“It’s gonna.” Kirara giggles.

It’s then that Kinji withdraws slightly so he can look at her. “Princess.” he starts, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I can do this, y’know. You don’t have to… If it’s not your thing-”

“What?” Kirara blinks, like she doesn’t understand why he’s even considering the thought. “Of course it’s my thing. It’s our thing.”

“Yeah, yeah – it is. But- Well, there’s lots of shit to do and you have a job-”

She shrugs. “It’s fine, I have a bit saved up so we’re probably covered until we can get this place up-”

“But you- You like your job.” Kinji says, feeling guilt creeping in. “They love you over there. You’re happy there.”

This is the thing he decided on, this morning. He’s been keeping Kirara from any risk, making sure she’s safe and content in the salon, far from the fighting rings with shady personalities and the gambling dens with even shadier deals.

He knows she’s not some fragile flower. God help anyone who tries to get past her technique in a fight, but she’s always made it clear that for her, combat and violence is only something she’d had to do, not necessarily something she was into. This is why she was so unfit to be in Jujutsu High, to work for them like some child soldier. She simply isn’t a soldier.

But Kinji has realized that keeping her out from so much of the world he’s trying to make for himself has made her feel like it’s her who has a shortcoming, like it’s her he doesn’t want, when really all of it was just him being overprotective.

So Kinji had decided that this time, he’s not going to let her feel so cast aside she starts believing that he’s not fucking crazy about her.

And it might be the right thing, because now Kirara’s eyes are shiny with delight.

“Kin-chan, I sweep hair off the floor.” she giggles. “Sure, yeah, it’s a good deal and I love them too. But I wanna be here. You know I wanna be!”

“It’s not always gonna be cozy.” he warns, half-hearted now. “Don’t complain if things get gross.”

“It’s a fight club, duh, yeah, it won’t be cozy.” Kirara looks at him like he’s being silly. He probably is. “Don’t worry about me! S’not like I can’t visit my friends anymore. We said we’d do this together, right? So let’s!”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, who else will be your security?” she asks, looking around again, this time like she can already see how things could be. One of her hands on his shoulders reaches up to cup the back of his head, absently scratching at the shorter hair there. “I call dibs on music. And I wanna have veto powers on all aesthetic-related decisions because you have shit taste.”

“Wow. Negotiating already, okay.” Kinji chuckles, leaning down again to rest his head on hers as he melts into her touch. “Alright, then, if that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want. For real.” She nods, smiling. “Our thing.”

“Our thing.” He grins with teeth, then straightens up propping his hands on his waist as he eyes the abandoned parking lot and thinks of all the things they’re gonna have to do. “We’re gonna be busy, then.”

“Soooo busy.” Kirara agrees, raising her phone up, taking photos. Then she pauses, and turns towards her best friend. “Wait, is this what all the different girls were for? They know guys?”

“I told you.” Kinji shrugs easily. “They made me look good. Got me into places. And yeah, they knew guys.”

“So… you got your guys now. Does this mean no more girls?”

“I guess so.” Kinji looks over at her, his grin teasing. “Would you like that too?”

Kirara looks away, huffing. “If I answer that, I’d be petty.” she says, her cheeks pink. “I don’t wanna be petty.”

“You don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, bending a little to peer at her face. “I’m into that, though. You’re cute when you’re mad at me.”

Kirara looks at him, eyes wide, cheeks red. She realizes that he’s looking right back, and hurriedly turns away. “Kinji, what the fuck.” she whispers, freaked out.

Kinji laughs. Loud, feverish, free. “What kind of reaction is that? C’mon, I’m flirting with you.”

“You’re teasing!” she shoots back, stepping away like he’s about to pounce on her. She’d be justified in thinking that.

“Same thing.” He steps forward, as if daring her to step away again. She doesn’t. “Isn’t this your birthday wish? Well, you got me. You were always gonna get me. Already got me bad all this time, really.”

Kirara glares – or tries to. “Liar.”

“Dummy.” Kinji says as he moves closer.

“Jerk.” Kirara counters, staying still.

Another step. “Princess.”

Kirara huffs, looking up at him now that he’s up close again. “That’s an affirmation.” she says, defiant.

Kinji doesn’t say anything back. He just cups her chin in his hand, then presses a kiss to her forehead, and another to her cheek.

“Hey,” he says, thumb on her rosy cheek, lingering. “I said I’d get you anything you want, right?”

Kirara’s breath hitches. Kinji waits for her to tug him closer, and only then does he finally kiss her lips.

Kissing Kirara feels like a summer night – hot and clear and perfect.

She laughs, breathless, and Kinji sees stars.

.

.

fin.