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toumakibangs · 6 years

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°*TouMaki - Advent Calendar 2018*° DAY 16 - “ROOFTOP” (“A and B broke up, but now they meet at a Christmas party”) by @fantasysorceress (aka @spider-maki)

Mod’s Note: Everyone who has had the chance of talking TouMaki with me recently knows that after having wirtten novel-length fics about how perfect they are for each other, I have been very interested in the concept of them breaking up, lately (and that I have PLANS on that department). Therefore, I would have tackled this prompt myself, if @spider-maki hadn’t beaten me to it. But I’m SO GLAD she did, because I am a fan of hers, and this fic here is truly something special. Thank you for signing-up, Caroline!!! ;A;

Author’s Note: “@spider-maki here! The supporting prompt I picked for this fic was “A and B broke up, but now they meet at a Christmas party.“ It ended up kind of long, so sorry about my inability to write short fics XD I hope you guys enjoy this anyway!! Merry Christmas to all my fellow toumaki fans!!! <3″

Title: Amplified

“In my defense,” says Toudou, “this was not my fault.”

Even though he’s sitting with his back to Makishima, he can still feel the scorching blue glare burning into the back of his head like a branding iron. “Are you implying this is my fault?”

“No! I’m saying it’s no one’s fault. If anything, it was the fault of a series of poorly timed coincidences that we ended up here.”

“Here,” Makishima says sourly. “You mean, locked out on Kinjou’s roof with you, of all people.”

Toudou’s tempted to object to that statement because he has proof from dozens of fangirls that he is, in fact, great company and thus the best person one could hope to be stuck on a roof with, but he’s pretty sure that would make Makishima even more annoyed with him than he already is. He himself isn’t in the best mood, and if they get any more irritated with each other than they already are, he knows they’ll both end up saying more stuff they’ll regret later.

At least, he knows he’ll regret it later. Past experience has taught him that much.

Toudou huffs out loud, his breath misting in the freezing air. Despite the chilly temperature, the jacket and mittens that Arakita was kind enough to throw at them are keeping him warm, and the tiled roof shingles make a surprisingly comfortable place to sit. He can see the sun setting over the neighbouring houses, painting the sky in hues of yellow and pink and casting dark shadows over the snow-topped trees. It’s a beautiful picture, and if it weren’t for the awkward tension settling thickly between him and Makishima, he would have called the atmosphere peaceful.

“Besides, it was definitely yours,” says Makishima.

“What?”

“The reason we’re locked out here. It was your fault.”

Toudou’s mouth falls open, and he’s so taken aback it takes him a moment to find his words. “It is not! Did that punch knock your memory loose, or was it always that bad?”

“Excuse me?!”

“It was obviously not my fault,” says Toudou. “Let’s go through exactly what happened…”

Kinjou and Arakita’s joint Sohoku-Hakogaku reunion Christmas party has already started by the time Toudou arrives at their house. He recognizes his old teammates’ cars parked on the driveway and lining the edge of the curb, giant snowflakes already gathering in layers of white atop their roofs. Multiple room lights are turned on inside, shining through the windows facing the street. The faint chimes of Christmas music drifts out from the house, echoing throughout the otherwise silent street, and Toudou can’t help humming along as he treks up the front steps and rings the doorbell.

The door opens after a minute. Arakita pokes his head out and snarls, “You’re late.”

“My taxi driver got lost and I don’t know the streets around here,” Toudou says breezily, brushing past him and shrugging out of his coat. He dumps it in Arakita’s arms. “You shouldn’t have moved to Chiba.”

Arakita mutters darkly under his breath, shaking the snow off his coat and angrily shoving it into the closet like he’d rather toss it into the snow outside. “And keep sharing an apartment with Shinkai? No thanks. I prefer living with someone who doesn’t have a black hole of a stomach and steals all my food.”

“Is that the only reason you moved in with Kinjou? I’m sure he’d be crushed to hear that.”

“That’s not -” Arakita breaks off with a frustrated sound. “Shut up!”

Toudou chuckles. “Fine, I won’t pry. How many people are here, anyway? I saw Fuku’s bike on the porch and there’s so many cars outside, I didn’t know you two had invited that many people…”

His voice trails off as he catches a flash of emerald over Arakita’s shoulder. The head of green turns towards him, and Makishima’s bright blue gaze meets his for one long, terrifying moment.

Then Makishima spins around, disappearing into another room, and Toudou grabs Arakita by his shoulders.

“You told me he wasn’t coming!” he shrieks in his face.

Arakita winces. “I only found out this morning,” he says. “He initially said he wasn’t going to come, but Kin-chan talked him into it.”

“But Kinjou knew I was coming! Why would he do that?!”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” Arakita says drily, extricating himself from Toudou’s grasp. “He and Tadokoro haven’t seen him in a while, not even since he moved back here.”

Toudou stops short. “Since he what?”

Arakita pauses, his eyes wide. “You didn’t know? He left England two weeks ago and bought an apartment in Tokyo. His brother’s opening a new studio there and Makishima offered to manage it.”

“How would I know that?!” Toudou screeches. “It’s not like we talk anymore!”

“I know you don’t talk to him, but what about everyone else? Shinkai? Fuku-chan? Wonder Boy? I’m pretty sure they all knew.”

“Well, they didn’t tell me!”

“I’m starting to realize why,” Arakita grumbles. “Is this going to be a problem? Both of you being here?”

Toudou thinks about it. While Kinjou and Arakita’s house wasn’t huge, there were enough rooms that it shouldn’t be too difficult for them to avoid each other for the duration of the party. Makishima would probably stick close to the former Sohoku members anyway. Really, there was no reason for them to interact at all. Even if by some chance they did end up together, all they had to do was ignore each other. It should be fine. They’d successfully ignored each other for the past five years, after all.

He pastes on the most convincing smile he can muster. “No, we’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Seriously?” says Makishima incredulously. “We’ll be fine? We haven’t been fine for years, or did you conveniently forget that?”

“We hadn’t even seen each other in five years!” exclaims Toudou. “I didn’t know you were going to blow up at me the second I opened my mouth!”

“You said your plan was for us to ignore each other. Talking to me sort of ruined that plan, didn’t it?”

“That was not my fault! It was because of the bear!”

The first hour of the party is fine. Better than fine - it’s fun. Toudou didn’t realize how much he missed his old teammates until he got the chance to talk with them face-to-face again. He learns that Fuku adopted a stray ginger cat while in Germany for a cycling race that he named Neko. Shinkai added streaks of white to his signature blue highlights. Izumida and Kuroda were both accepted to study abroad in America for two years. Manami, whom Toudou hasn’t met in person for almost a year, had grown another two inches and apparently moved in with Onoda.

“That was fast,” says Toudou. “Haven’t you only been dating for a year?”

Manami smiles beatifically. “That doesn’t matter,” he says. “It’s what we both want.”

Something hot and painful tugs at Toudou’s chest, and it tinges his answering grin with a sort of wistful pride. “If that’s the case, then it’s fine,” he says, patting his old kouhai’s head like he’s a small puppy instead of a man now slightly taller than himself. “Let me know if you or Megane-kun ever need anything!”

Manami gives him a serious nod. “Yes, mother.”

He runs away before Toudou can smack him.

“He’s not wrong,” someone says behind him, and Toudou turns around. Tadokoro smirks, using his wine glass as a prop to gesture at him. “You basically just offered to mother them.”

“That’s not mothering,” Toudou sniffs. “I’m looking out for them. I’m glad they’re happy, but they’re still so young. I don’t want them to make a mistake.”

“I can’t believe you don’t realize how much you sound like a mother,” Tadokoro says, amused. Before Toudou can reiterate that is not, in fact, Manami and Megane-kun’s mother, Tadokoro adds, “Not everyone’s relationship is like yours and Makishima’s, you know.”

Toudou freezes.

“Onoda and Manami aren’t like you two,” he says. “They got together pretty recently - they didn’t dive into a relationship right away. On the surface their decision seems like an impulsive one, but it isn’t. I know they discussed it for a long time before agreeing to give it a try.”

When Toudou speaks again, his tone comes out noticeably cooler than it was earlier. “Are you saying that my choices in high school were an impulsive mistake?”

“Not a mistake,” says Tadokoro. “Just that maybe, you both tried to rush things that you weren’t ready for.”

Toudou opens his mouth, then closes it. There’s nothing he can say to disagree, not when Tadokoro’s opinion mirrors the same thought that’s been plaguing him since the day he and Makishima broke up.

Tadokoro gives him a knowing look and drains his wine glass in one gulp. “Can you get me some more?” he asks, proffering him the empty glass.

Toudou stares at him. “And why should I do that?”

“Because I gave you advice for free.”

“That wasn’t advice! That was criticism of my life choices!”

“Still free, wasn’t it?”

Toudou debates knocking the glass out of his hand and shattering it against the wooden floor for dramatic effect, but instead sighs and takes it. After Tadokoro’s unsolicited ‘advice’, he’s ready for any excuse to leave the room and he’s feeling the urge to get a drink for himself anyway. “Fine. On the condition that you not give me any more ‘advice’ for the rest of the evening.”

Tadokoro heaves a fake sigh. “That’ll be tough, but I think I can manage.”

“Good.” Toudou strides out of the room without a backwards glance, narrowly avoiding walking straight into Yuuto, and heads into the kitchen. Kinjou and Arakita’s kitchen is the largest room in the house, painted pale green with pristine white cabinets encircling the walls. Platters of tempura, gyoza, and yakitori sit on the island in the centre of the room on trays featuring decorative Christmas motifs. The bottles of alcohol are lined neatly atop the marble countertop, where Makishima is pouring what appears to be vodka into his glass of soda.

Makishima’s hand stills over the glass. He carefully caps the bottle and places it back in the line. Toudou stares at him, tamping down his impulse to turn around and flee the kitchen, and blurts out, “Long time no see.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Makishima slowly lifts his gaze to meet his, and the withering glare he shoots him is so venomous that Toudou swears he can feel the poison tainting the air between them. “What?”

Toudou sets Tadokoro’s glass on the counter, holding up his hands in defense. “Nothing! It was just a greeting! I wasn’t implying anything!”

Makishima snorts. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, forgive me if I wanted to pretend we’re not ready to kill each other at our friends’ Christmas party!” retorts Toudou. His patience is already stretched thinner than a rope after Tadokoro’s short speech, and Makishima’s presence is fraying it further. “I thought we could at least be cordial with each other.”

“Sorry for not indulging in your fantasy,” Makishima spits out, stalking past him. “If you’ll excuse me.”

On instinct, Toudou reaches out to grab the sleeve of Makishima’s hideous red Christmas sweater. Makishima jerks back, his drink sloshing over the rim and spilling a few drops onto the tiled floor. He whirls to face him, an angry light in his eyes. “What the hell, Toudou -”

“What is your problem?” Toudou demands. “We broke up five years ago! We haven’t seen or talked at all since then! Are you really still that mad at me over something that happened so long ago?!”

Makishima’s grip on the glass tightens, looking as if he��d like nothing more than to hurl the drink in Toudou’s face. “That,” he says, his tone icy, “is none of your business.”

“Wrong! If it involves me, then it is very much my business. We’re also in Arakita’s house, and if we start at fight at his party he’s going to murder both of us. Painfully. So, it’s better if you just tell me what your problem is and we can move on from there.“

Makishima scowls at him. “You really want to know?”

“Yes!”

“Fine.” Makishima slams his glass down on the island. It wobbles, but miraculously doesn’t break. “It’s exactly what you said, about us breaking up. We’d mutually agreed not to see each other anymore. And yet, here we are.”

Toudou blinks, startled. He can vaguely remember one of them screaming those words on that fateful night, but… “I thought by not seeing each other, we meant, like, not dating anymore,” he says slowly. “Not literally never seeing each other.” Did Makishima really hate him that much, that he’d never wanted to even see Toudou ever again?

“Oh.” Makishima sways slightly on his feet. “That makes…more sense.”

A realization strikes Toudou and he leans forward. Makishima’s breath washes over him, the scent confirming his suspicions, and he frowns. “How are you drunk already? The party only started an hour and a half ago.”

“I’m not drunk.”

Toudou rolls his eyes. “How many shots of vodka did you take, Maki-ch - Makishima?”

Fortunately, Makishima doesn’t appear to notice his slip-up. He glances up at the ceiling, counting in his head. “Eight, I think. Why do you care, anyway?”

Toudou hesitates.

Because I never stopped.

“Because if you faint on the floor, everyone’s going to think I somehow did it,” he says instead. “You know you can’t handle that much alcohol. Why did you drink so much?”

Makishima lets out a humourless laugh, pushing green hair out of his face. “I saw you walk in the front door,” he says. “And I knew I wouldn’t get through this night sober if I had to see your face again during the party.”

The last shred of Toudou’s self-restraint disintegrates and he narrows his eyes, moving deliberately into Makishima’s personal space and jabbing an accusing finger in his face. “Are you implying there’s something wrong with my beautiful face?”

“Oh, was it only an implication? I guess I wasn’t clear enough.” Makishima meets his furious gaze dead-on. “Sorry, I forgot that things that aren’t explicitly stated tend to fly right over your head.”

“Really?” Toudou finds himself unconsciously matching Makishima’s sarcastic tone. “I suppose that’s better than missing hints from right under your nose, wouldn’t you agree?”

To his surprise, Makishima flinches. Before he can dwell on it, a pair of hands latch onto his shoulders and drag him away from Makishima. Toudou stumbles backwards, colliding into someone’s solid chest. He glances up at the strands of auburn, blue and white hanging over his head and snaps, “Let me go, Shinkai!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jinpachi,” says Shinkai, far more cheerfully than the situation warrants. “You and Yuusuke look like you’re about to start a fistfight. If that happens, Yasutomo -”

“- will kill us, I know.” Toudou tugs fruitlessly at his wrist. “I won’t hit him, I promise.”

Shinkai hums and releases him. Toudou straightens, dusting off his clothes, and only then does he notice Makishima is also being restrained by Tadokoro. Until he looks closer and realizes Makishima’s eyes are closed and he’s actually slumped forward, unconscious in Tadokoro’s arms. Alarm jolts through his spine like a lightning bolt.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” says Tadokoro, patting Makishima’s cheek. Makishima doesn’t stir. “He just drank too much. Let him take a short nap, and he’ll be fine.”

Toudou breathes a quick sigh of relief. He can feel the odd look Shinkai is giving him, but decides to ignore it for now and watches as Tadokoro lifts Makishima like a ragdoll and carries him out of the room. Without Makishima there, the strained air in the room is gone and Toudou can think clearly again.

He groans aloud, adjusting the hairband on his head and fixing the violet strands that had fallen out his place during his argument with Makishima. Why did he even speak to Makishima in the first place? More than that - why did he stop Makishima from leaving the kitchen? If he hadn’t, they would have continued ignoring each other as they’d successfully done until their chance encounter in the kitchen, and Toudou wouldn’t be left with the sick feeling in his gut roiling his emotions like a kitchen blender.

“Jinpachi.” The gravity in Shinkai’s voice catches his attention. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” says Toudou. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m not the one who knocked himself out drinking too much.”

“You still like him, don’t you.” There’s no question in Shinkai’s tone. Just a dawning revelation. “You said you were over him, and we believed you, but -”

“- But nothing!” Toudou says sharply, cutting him off. He takes a deep breath. “Please, just…pretend you didn’t see any of this. I need to be alone for a bit.”

Shinkai studies him for a few seconds, and whatever he sees makes him grin and shoot Toudou the signature finger guns he’s never given up even after graduating from Meisou. “You got it. Arakita said we’re eating in about half an hour, so you should get back here before then.”

“Thanks, Shinkai.” In a brief attempt at reclaiming his normal self, Toudou grins and pats Shinkai’s shoulder. Shinkai nods, but the understanding in his eyes makes the sick feeling in his stomach worsen. Toudou turns quickly, the crafted mask slipping off his face as he brushes past him and heads upstairs by himself.

He decides not to intrude in any of the closed room doors on the upper level and instead sits on the topmost step of the staircase. As the noises from the party fades to background din, Toudou leans his head against the wall and thinks about nothing.

“So that’s where you went,” Makishima mumbles to himself. “When I woke up, I thought you disappeared.”

Toudou huffs a laugh. “You must have been overjoyed.”

Makishima doesn’t reply, and Toudou interprets his silence as agreement. He breathes out, watching the white mist swirl in rings before him. Maybe it’s his imagination, but somehow the air between them doesn’t feel as cold as it was minutes earlier.

“What Shinkai said,” Makishima says suddenly, and Toudou stiffens. “About me. Is that true?”

Toudou is glad Makishima still has his back to him and can’t see the panic he knows just flashed across his face. He wasn’t ready for that conversation with Shinkai in the kitchen, and he’s definitely not ready for it with Makishima now, not when they’re on a roof and it would be easy for Makishima to push him off in a fit of anger and claim it was an accident.

“Don’t listen to him,” says Toudou, struggling to keep his voice even. “You know how Shinkai is - always joking about something.”

“I don’t, actually, since I’ve never spoken to him one-on-one.” He hears Makishima shift into a more comfortable position, the fabric of his jacket crinkling as he settles. “Are you saying he was wrong?”

“Well…I wouldn’t say that either.”

“Then which is it?!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Toudou says quickly. “I’m still trying to prove to you that it wasn’t my fault we’re stuck on this roof, and there’s still one more incident to cover.”

“Oh, right,” says Makishima. “The one that was so obviously your fault that I’m looking forward to how you’re going to twist it in such a way that makes you look good.”

“Excuse you, I always look good.” The automatic response leaves his mouth before he can stop it and Toudou cringes, waiting for Makishima to yell at him some more. To his shock he hears a muffled chortle instead. Almost like Makishima is trying to hide his amusement into his gloves.

The sound sends a pang through Toudou’s heart, a weird mixture of fondness and regret wrapped in red and green, and he clears his throat before it can show on his face.

“Now, where were we?”

Arakita discovers him sulking upstairs approximately half an hour later, as Shinkai estimated, and forcibly drags him down to the table in the dining room. Even in his foul mood, Toudou’s able to appreciate the effort he and Kinjou had put into transforming the fairly nondescript room into an aesthetic Christmas scene. Strings of gold tinsel hang around the room in draping loops along the walls and windows. A tall vase of red and white flowers sits in the centre of the rectangular table. Sixteen plates and cutlery sets are arranged neatly at each place setting, the porcelain white dishes decorated with red, green and gold designs etched into the outside curves of the dishes. The smell of apples and cinnamon burns in the air.

By the time he and Arakita enter the room, everyone else is already seated. Toudou glances over their chairs, nudges Arakita with one elbow, and whispers, “Why are the only two seats that are left both in the same half of the table where Makishima is sitting?”

“We didn’t put a name on each seat - this isn’t a wedding!” Arakita hisses. “Do you think we’re executing a conspiracy against you two? It just happened that way! If you don’t want to sit at the table, you can sit in the kitchen by yourself!”

Toudou pouts at him. “There’s no need to be so mean, Arakita.”

“Then stop spouting nonsense and pick a damn seat.”

Sliding into the chair that’s positioned a little farther from Makishima, Toudou angles his body in the direction away from him and quickly engages in conversation with Fukutomi, who’s sitting beside him. He’s still uncomfortably aware of Makishima picking at his cabbage salad across the table and the way he’s also deliberately avoiding any possible eye contact. The knowledge should have been relieving, but instead it leaves Toudou feeling even emptier than before.

As he scoops out a few pieces of fried chicken onto his plate, Toudou suddenly realizes the whole room has gone quiet and looks up. Everyone, including the younger former Sohoku riders whom he doesn’t even recognize, are staring at him and Makishima like they can sense the boiling tension between them and are waiting for one of them to explode. With great difficulty, Toudou bites back the urge to scream at all of them. Either Tadokoro and Shinkai tattled about their fight in the kitchen, or the terrible relationship between the two of them is so palpable that even Manami, who looked ready to fall asleep in his miso soup when Toudou walked in, is now looking between them like he’s expecting one of them to deck the other any moment.

Toudou forces a laugh, and it rings hollow in the noiseless dining room. “Why are you all so quiet? This is a Christmas party! We should all be celebrating!” He grabs the wine glass in front of him, who someone - probably Arakita - had filled with champagne earlier and lifts it in the air. “How about a toast for the holidays?”

For a moment, no one moves. Then Onoda, with a tentative smile, raises his glass and clinks it against Toudou’s, and Toudou mentally reminds himself to buy the kid a very nice birthday present the next year.

“Merry Christmas!” Manami chimes in, tapping his own glass to Onoda’s, and that breaks the spell. The rest of Toudou’s old Hakone cycling team toast their glasses, Izumida nearly spilling his drink when he knocks it too enthusiastically against Shinkai’s, and soon the Sohoku guys join in too.

Except for one.

“Yuusuke,” says Kinjou, his glass raised with one hand and gesturing at Makishima’s untouched drink with the other, “Merry Christmas.”

“It’s not.” Makishima’s voice is hoarse and barely audible, but somehow it carries across the whole table. “I won’t toast to a lie.”

“Makishima…” Kinjou’s tone drops in a warning, but Makishima is either still a little drunk or he doesn’t care, because he keeps talking.

“You guys don’t have to pretend everything’s fine. I know that because Toudou and I aren’t on good terms anymore, it’s affecting everyone’s mood.” Makishima glances at Kinjou. “You shouldn’t have asked me to come. We’re just ruining the party that you and Arakita worked so hard to arrange, and I’m sorry -”

“Wait a minute,” Toudou interrupts, and silently apologizes to Arakita for the scene he’s sure they’re about to make. “We’re ruining the party? I’m here trying to cheer everyone up and get them back in the Christmas spirit! You’re just dragging them back down with your negativity!”

Makishima snorts a laugh, the sound even more fake than the one Toudou let out minutes earlier. “That’s just like you,” he says. “Thinking everything can be fixed by forcing your own happiness onto other people.”

That stings, more than anything Makishima’s said all evening, but Toudou’s gotten better at hiding his real feelings from others and he presses on. “And what exactly do you mean by that, Makishima?”

“Kuha! You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Um,” says Tadokoro. “Guys, maybe now isn’t the best time -”

“If you’re referring to me asking you to move in with me after high school,” Toudou says loudly, “then I wasn’t forcing my happiness on you! It was only a question!”

Makishima lets out a derisive snort. “Oh, it was only a question? I think that got lost in the translation when you started screaming at me after I turned down your offer.”

“I wasn’t mad that you turned me down!” Toudou objects. “I was mad that you conveniently forgot to mention you were moving to England when you had known for five months beforehand!”

Makishima looks at him askance. “Did you think I forgot to mention it? I didn’t tell you on purpose, because I knew you would react as badly as you did!”

“Of course I reacted badly!” Toudou screeches. “We were in a relationship for a year! By then I thought you trusted me with important information about your life decisions, but that turned out be the worst assumption I’ve ever made, didn’t it?”

“I wasn’t obligated to share every detail about my personal life with you just because you were my boyfriend! You know I’m a private person - I have to keep some secrets to myself until I’m ready to share them. You never had the right to demand to know them!”

“I didn’t,” Toudou begins hotly, then stops short.

Because maybe he never really considered it from Makishima’s point of view, and Makishima’s accusation that he demanded information from him - that is what he’d done, wasn’t it? That fateful day Makishima had, likely unintentionally, broken his heart with a few carelessly spoken words, and in his disappointment Toudou had thrown his hurt feelings in Makishima’s face and blamed them on him. He’d pushed Makishima too far, something Toudou had realized not long after he slammed the door in Makishima’s face and had a few days to cool off, but it never occurred to him that during their fight, he’d dug up Makishima’s insecurities and used them as verbal weapons against his then-boyfriend.

Releasing his held breath, Toudou places his glass back on the table. “That wasn’t my intention. To ask for more than you were prepared to give.”

Makishima scoffs. “You didn’t realize it, maybe, but that was definitely your intention.”

“Not to hurt you!” Toudou shouts, slamming his hands against the table and making the plates and silverware rattle. Onoda jumps and squeaks in alarm but that barely registers in his mind, all of his attention now focused on Makishima glaring balefully at him. “You said I was forcing my happiness on you? If that’s true, then it was only because I thought it was what you wanted! I just wanted you - wanted us - to be happy!”

“In case it escaped your notice, Toudou,” Makishima growls, “you didn’t make anyone happy then, and no one is happy now.”

“And whose fault is that? I’m not the one who went radio silent for five years and decided to dredge up past grudges at a Christmas party!”

Makishima stares at him. “I didn’t - you’re the one who suggested we never talk again just before we left! Why are you complaining about that now? Besides, communication goes two ways, and it’s not like you made any effort to reach out either!”

“…You make it sound so easy,” says Toudou. “Like I could just call you one day and you wouldn’t either hang up immediately, or yell at me for bothering you and end the call before I could get a word in. Because that’s what you do best, isn’t it? Run away from things you don’t like?”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” says Makishima, “when you’re the one who left in the first place when things didn’t go your way.”

“I was upset, as you well know,” Toudou says irritably, “and I did go back the next day, but by the time I got there your mother was kind enough to inform me that you’d decided to stay with the bear for the rest of the month and probably didn’t want to see me anymore!”

“I…” Makishima blinks, seeming surprised. “You came back? Why?”

Toudou fumes.

Because I missed you!

“Because we needed to talk, properly! But you left and I didn’t hear a word from you!” He stands up, leaning across the table as close to Makishima as he can without falling. “It’s like I said! You run away when you’re afraid!”

Makishima’s eyes narrow. They’re close enough that Toudou can see his dilated irises, can faintly feel the warmth of his breath against the tip of his nose. “You think I’m afraid of you? Just because you think you’re the Mountain God?”

“Not afraid of me,” Toudou corrects. “Afraid of us. Of what we had, and what ended up happening to it.”

A flicker of surprise passes through Makishima’s gaze, and Toudou knows he was right. Makishima drops his chopsticks, letting them fall to the table with a clatter, and stands up to meet him eye-to-eye. For a moment, Toudou lets himself imagine that they’ll reach an understanding, fall back in each other’s good graces, and carry on with their friends’ Christmas party in high spirits.

It’s a pipe dream, and Makishima shatters it with one sentence.

“You were afraid of us too,” he says, “or did you think I’d forget that it was you who said you’d rather be miserable without me while I was in England, instead of trying to force something neither of us wanted?”

The memory of the last words Toudou ever spoke to Makishima for five years crashes into his head like a wrecking ball, and suddenly he’s seventeen again, furious and heartbroken and screaming out the ugliest thoughts he had in an attempt to protect the last remnants of the euphoria he’d felt when he bought a new apartment with the intention of rooming with his boyfriend for the next four years. Some of what he’d yelled out was true, some were a downright lie, but in the end it didn’t matter whether they were true or not - they both said whatever they could to make the other hurt, and it worked too well.

Toudou makes a noise that’s dangerously close to a whimper, hands clenching into fists at his side. For a second he sees Makishima draw back one step, perhaps recognizing that he may have went too far, but it’s quickly overtaken by the rage that blurs Toudou’s vision. His world turns red, darker than the scarlet Christmas decorations hanging around Arakita’s house, and he grabs Makishima’s collar to tug him closer.

Makishima opens his mouth to say something, and Toudou punches him in the face.

“Shit!” Makishima staggers backwards. The room dissolves into a babbling chaotic mess. Someone screams - it sounds like Ashikiba - and an arm is locked around Toudou’s throat in an instant, yanking him back and away before he can hit him again. Toudou struggles against Arakita’s vice-like grip as Kinjou holds out the ice pack he summoned out of nowhere and presses it to Makishima’s nose.

“Did he break anything?” asks Arakita.

Kinjou lifts the ice pack, peering at Makishima’s face. “I don’t think so. Yuusuke, do you feel any pain?”

“I’m fine,” Makishima mutters, batting the ice pack away from him. A black bruise is already blossoming on his left cheekbone, a dark contrast against his pale skin. “Toudou couldn’t hurt a flower if he punched it.”

Toudou redoubles his efforts to escape. “Excuse me?!”

“Okay, that’s the last straw,” Arakita says abruptly, tightening his hold and nodding at Kinjou. “Bring him too.”

Toudou swears he sees a small smirk grace Kinjou’s face before his usual stoic expression returns and he takes Makishima’s arm. Arakita leads them upstairs, past the step where Toudou was sitting earlier, and stops in front of the wide bay windows facing the street outside. The snowfall has lightened, falling in gently drifting flurries and leaving a coating of white over the roof tiles of Arakita and Kinjou’s garage. An airplane flies overhead, and the low drone of its engines makes Toudou aware of how quiet it is compared to the shouting match he and Makishima held in the dining room.

He winces. “Arakita, about what just happened -”

“Save it!” Arakita barks, flipping the latch on the windows and pushing them open. The freezing air rushes into the room, dropping the temperature about ten degrees and raising the hairs on Toudou’s arms.

“What are you doing?” he complains. “It’s cold! Close the window!”

“Nope,” he says, moving past them to open the nearby closet and pull out two sets of winter gear, complete with jackets, gloves, and boots. He tosses one at Toudou and the other at Makishima. “You disrupted the whole party and ruined everyone’s night. This is your punishment.”

“Punishment?” Makishima repeats weakly. “Look, I’m really sorry -”

“I said I don’t want to hear it!” Arakita snaps. “Kin-chan and I already decided on this beforehand.”

Makishima shoots his friend a betrayed look. “Decided on what?”

“We’re kicking you both out,” says Kinjou, pushing up his glasses. “Onto the roof. We’re going to lock the window, and you’re not allowed to come back out until you resolve your differences and promise not to negatively interfere with our Christmas party any longer.”

“Or until you get into another fight and push each other off the roof.” Arakita shrugs, a wicked grin curving his mouth. “Either way, our problem is solved.”

“Hang on a second,” Toudou says, mounting panic flooding his brain, “you can’t leave us alone out there! It’s minus two degrees outside!”

Arakita points. “That’s what the jacket and gloves are for.”

“We’re going to kill each other,” says Makishima. “What if you’re charged with accessory to manslaughter?”

“Yeah, nice try. It’s not going to work.” Arakita lifts Toudou like he weighs nothing more than a sack of potatoes and shoves him through the window. “I don’t care whether you kill each other up here, but try not to spill any blood on the roof. The construction only finished two weeks ago and if we have to pay to fix it, I’m taking the money from Toudou’s bank account.”

“What?” Toudou shrieks as Kinjou gently but forcefully bundles Makishima out the window. “Why mine?”

“Because you threw the first punch, so I’m blaming you for any subsequent punches,” says Arakita. “We’ll come back when you’re ready to stop scaring the younger kids.”

“Have fun,” adds Kinjou.

The window locks behind them.

“And that’s what happened,” Toudou finishes triumphantly.

Makishima gives him a bewildered look. “Why do you sound happy about that? You didn’t prove your point at all. You’re the one who punched me in the face.”

“Yes, but that’s because you made fun of me first,” Toudou explains. “Which happened because I taunted you. All of it can be traced back to when we happened to meet in the kitchen, or if we’re looking even further back, the fact that we both came to this party without knowing the other would be there.”

Makishima mumbles something Toudou can’t make out.

“What?”

“I said, I knew you were coming,” he says. “Kinjou told me beforehand.”

Toudou’s mouth drops open. “And you still showed up?” he squawks.

“I thought the same as you - that I could avoid you the whole time,” says Makishima. “I forgot that you liked to go poking into other people’s business, especially mine.”

“That’s not what I -” Toudou cuts himself off, flopping backwards onto the roof and ignoring the cold flash of snow suddenly gathered against his neck. He closes his eyes. “Nevermind. I’m too tired to fight anymore. You can push me off the roof, if you want.”

Makishima doesn’t say anything for a full minute. Toudou almost fears he’s actually considering pushing him off until he says quietly, “That’s not what I want.”

Toudou snorts. “That’s a relief - that’d be a terrible way for someone as gorgeous as me to die. Good thing you don’t hate me enough to kill me.”

“I don’t -” Makishima exhales. “I never hated you, Toudou.”

Toudou’s eyes shoot open and he sits up, fast enough to make his head spin from the sudden movement. “What?”

Makishima’s gaze is piercing. “Do you hate me?”

“Yes! No! I don’t -” A frustrated sound escapes him and Toudou looks away. “I don’t know. I didn’t think I hated you, but that moment just before I hit you - I was really, really mad at you.”

“I could tell,” Makishima says drily.

“I am sorry for punching you, though.”

Makishima waves off his apology. “It’s fine. I kind of deserved it. It doesn’t even hurt that much, so I guess I was right about you not being able to throw a decent punch.”

Toudou wants to be offended, but he doesn’t want to destroy the wordless truce they’ve agreed on and settles for a shrug. “It’s strange,” he says. “I was angry, and I wanted to hurt you, but at the same time - I didn’t really want to hurt you.” He looks down at his fingers, reflexively clenching them into a fist. “I heard people usually injure their hands the first time they punch someone, and yet I’m fine. I don’t think I used my full strength, even though I’m sure I meant to.”

“Huh.” Makishima scratches the side of his nose, tinted pink from the cold air. “Whether you meant to or not…I’m sorry, too. For what I said. I shouldn’t have said it in front of everyone like that.”

Toudou sighs, tucking his legs closer to his body and wrapping his arms around his knees. “I didn’t like it, but I said some pretty nasty stuff about you too,” he admits. “We were both acting stupid.”

Makishima barks a laugh. It’s as self-deprecating as always, but something about the familiar sound is comforting to Toudou’s ears. “Guess we haven’t changed much from all those years ago.”

“Maybe not,” says Toudou, “but it was cathartic, I think. To yell at you like that. Don’t you agree?”

“Well, I’ve found it cathartic to yell at you since the day we met, so…”

“Rude, Maki-ch - argh!” It’s rare for Toudou to feel this embarrassed, but in this moment he wishes he could sink through the roof and disappear from Makishima’s sight. He buries his face in his hands with a groan.

A gloved hand touches his shoulder, tentative like it’s afraid Toudou will break if it grips too hard, and the contact shocks Toudou enough to lift his head. “Eh?”

“You almost called me that back in the kitchen, too,” Makishima observes. Before Toudou can deny it, he sighs. “I don’t care what you call me, Toudou. I’m not going to get mad at you over a nickname you’ve always used anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Toudou says hesitantly. “I didn’t think it would be appropriate, considering we’re not, well, close anymore.”

“I didn’t think you of all people cared about what was appropriate or not.”

“I just didn’t want you to hate me any more than you already did.”

Makishima looks taken aback. “I said I never hated you -”

“I didn’t know that before!” On instinct, Toudou clasps Makishima’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing his fingers between his. “I know I said you got scared and ran away from our relationship, but I got scared sometimes too, you know?” His mind flashes back to his conversation with Tadokoro and maybe you both tried to rush things that you weren’t ready for. “We didn’t communicate, not properly,” he says, the realization hitting him as he says the words. “That’s why we fell apart, isn’t it?”

Makishima’s voice softens. “Maybe,” he says. “We don’t know what would have happened if we’d stayed together when I moved to England. But that was likely our biggest problem, yes. I wouldn’t say it was our only obstacle, but it did ruin our relationship in the end.”

Toudou swallows. While he’d obviously missed going on dates with Makishima, that wasn’t what had hurt the worst during those first few painful months. It was losing Makishima as one of his best friends. He’d grown so used to calling and texting Makishima on a whim about things from trivial information, to advice on cycling, to just wishing to hear Makishima’s voice, that suddenly not being able to do it anymore had been torture. His excitement about graduating and heading to university had all but dissipated, leaving nothing but regrets and what-ifs for him to carry into the future.

“I didn’t hate you,” Toudou says, testing the words, and he’s relieved to find they don’t taste like a lie. “I just missed you, so much, and it hurt. I didn’t hate you. I hated that we’d ended on such bad terms and you were a million miles away before I could try to fix us. I hated that I was sure you hated me. I hated that I couldn’t hate you no matter how much I wanted to.” He moves his hand from Makishima’s to his own face, pressing his fingers against his eyelids in an attempt to stop the tears he can feel leaking out. “Most of all, I hated that it was my fault.”

“What? Toudou, didn’t we just establish that it was both of our faults?”

“I asked you to move in with me, without warning, and you rightfully flipped out.” Toudou tries to laugh, but the choked sound he makes can’t be mistaken as anything but a sob. “I should have asked what you thought of the idea before suddenly springing that on you.”

“That’s not your fault, Toudou.” Makishima rubs a hand against his own face. “I never told you I was graduating early, so you didn’t expect to have to ask about that yet. And you wanted it to be a surprise, I get that. I was just, you know, surprised.”

“You hate surprises.”

“Well, yes, but you were also trying to be romantic, right?” A pretty flush covers Makishima’s cheeks. “I only realized that days later.”

“I figured as much, Maki-chan.” The name slips out by accident. Toudou bites his tongue, but doesn’t take it back. “You wouldn’t recognize a romantic gesture if it hit you over the head with a brick -”

“Oi!”

“- and I knew that even before we started dating.” He offers him a smile. “It’s fine.”

“That’s not a good excuse, though,” Makishima says, looking down. “You made more of an effort to understand me than I did at getting to know you. I accused you of trying to force our relationship, but that’s better than what I did - I didn’t try nearly hard enough to keep us together.”

More tears slide down Toudou’s cheeks in rivers. “Maki-chan…”

“That wasn’t fair to you. And I think…that’s why I ran away to England.” Makishima breathes out. “You deserved better than me.”

Toudou stares as Makishima continues to studiously avoid looking at him, his gaze firmly set on the pitch-black horizon. Then he can’t help it - he lets out a genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking with the force of trying to hold in his amusement. He’s still crying, can still feel the salty warmth against the chill of his skin, but his mood is significantly lighter.

Makishima, on the other hand, is gaping at him as though Toudou has lost his mind, an offended expression taking shape on his face. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Not at you!” Toudou reassures him, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m laughing at us. It’s not actually that funny, it’s just - I realized we really are the same kind of stupid.”

Makishima arches an eyebrow.

Toudou spreads his hands out, a little helplessly. “I let you go because I thought you deserved better than me.”

“You -” Makishima looks astonished. “What?”

“I almost bought a plane ticket to England,” says Toudou, and the memory almost sends him into another fit of hysterics. “I’d filled out all the details online and was all set to order. But I didn’t - I couldn’t go through with it. I thought, what was the point? Even if we somehow made up - which at the time seemed highly unlikely - I wasn’t going to stay in England, and you weren’t coming back to Japan. I thought you’d be better off living your life freely the way you wanted, instead of feeling like you were stuck until you grew too tired of me.”

“I see it now,” he continues, voice trembling. “We really didn’t talk at all, did we? Not about the important things. You said I tried harder to understand you, and I did try, but I could have also just asked you about your thoughts instead of always trying to figure things out behind your back.” Toudou presses his lips together. “I know I already said it, but I really am sorry about that. I should have talked to you directly first.”

Makishima frowns at him. “You know, I think you’ve said ‘sorry’ more times today than I’ve ever heard you say in your entire life,” he says. “It’s not like you, and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Toudou splutters. “You said it too, and you don’t usually say it either!”

“Ha, that’s true.” Makishima picks at the fabric on his gloves, tearing at a tiny hole in the green thread. “How about we both acknowledge that the blame for our breakup lies on both of us, and promise to stop apologizing for it?”

A promise. When was the last time he and Makishima made a promise together?

“Okay,” says Toudou. “I promise.”

“And please stop crying,” adds Makishima, glancing at him. “That’s also making me uncomfortable.”

Toudou chuckles, using his gloves to brush away the last of his tears. “I see you’re still allergic to emotions after all these years.”

“Shut up.”

Stretching out his legs, Toudou lies back on the roof tiles and looks up at the stars high above them. They’re partially obscured by the drifting clouds and falling snow, but he can still spot several tiny pinpoints of light in the sky. He raises his hands, framing right angles with his thumb and index finger, and tests them against the stars.

“What are you doing,” Makishima deadpans.

“We’re still locked out here until Arakita or Kinjou comes back to free us,” says Toudou. “So we might as well find something to do. I’m seeing whether I can recognize any of the constellations.”

“I’m surprised we can even see the stars in this weather. I doubt you’ll find a complete constellation.”

Toudou shrugs. “Maybe, but you never know until you try.”

Snow crunches under Makishima’s jacket and pants as he lies down beside Toudou. He shifts closer, close enough for their shoulders to touch and for Toudou to feel the warmth emanating from Makishima’s body heat. He instinctively burrows into the source of warmth, leaning his head into the juncture between Makishima’s shoulder and neck, and he hears his sharp intake of breath. Makishima doesn’t say anything, though, merely readjusts into a more comfortable position.

They’re silent for several long minutes, Toudou continuing to search the sky with Makishima’s quiet breathing in his ear. Eventually, Makishima asks in a voice as soft as the snow under their backs, “Toudou, what are we doing?”

“Looking at the stars -”

“You know what I’m talking about,” he says impatiently. “Just now, you said even if we somehow made up, which at the time seemed highly unlikely. At that time.” Makishima’s voice cracks. “What about now? What exactly were you trying to say?”

Toudou lowers his hands, carefully considering his next words. “I wasn’t saying anything that I’m forcing us to do,” he says. “I was just suggesting that now, I wouldn’t mind if we became friends again.”

Makishima chews on his bottom lip. “Just friends?” he asks.

“Just -” Toudou blinks, rolling onto his side to face him. “What are you trying to say?”

“I…” Makishima coughs, his face reddening. “You know I’m not good at talking, especially about my feelings. But that’s how I screwed up last time, so that’s why I want to tell the truth now. And the truth is…I’m still in love with you.”

Toudou stares at him. Disbelief and a hint of something else, something unexpected but definitely pleasant, melts in his veins like thawed frost and he pinches the skin on his arm to make sure he isn’t dreaming. The flare of pain alerts him to the fact that yes, he is sitting on Arakita and Kinjou’s roof in the middle of winter while his ex-boyfriend confesses he still loves him. Toudou is sure he can count on one hand the amount of times Makishima had verbally expressed his affection for him, and the knowledge that he’s willing to do so now, when they’d been fighting less than an hour ago, means more to him than he could ever say in words, and his eyes well up again.

“It’s okay, if you’re not anymore,” says Makishima. “I don’t expect -”

“Maki-chan,” Toudou cuts him off, grinning through his tears. “Did you really think I ever stopped?”

Makishima gives a tentative smile back. With the white snowflakes in his emerald hair shining under the moonlight, Toudou thinks he’s never looked more beautiful. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“That’s why I’m telling you.” Feeling happier than he’s been in ages, Toudou moves to grip Makishima’s hand in his own, and Makishima clutches it back. “I love you too. Always have, and always will.”

Makishima lets out a slow breath. “Good. I’m glad.”

“I don’t think we should jump back into a relationship right away, though,” Toudou says, reluctantly because as much as he’s tempted to do just that, he knows it’s a bad idea considering their rocky history. “We should be friends, first. Fit each other back into our lives. And if everything works out and we’re both happy and ready, then we can try again. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect, Jinpachi,” says Makishima, and Toudou’s heart stutters in his chest. He shuffles closer, stretching up to place a kiss on Makishima’s cheek and threading his other hand through the familiar soft strands of green hair. Makishima shivers at the touch, his hand squeezing Toudou’s to the point where it’s bordering on painful. Toudou lingers there, his lips on Makishima’s skin, until the loud click of the window unlatching startles him into rearing back.

“Are you idiots seriously making out on the roof?” says Arakita, sounding distinctly unimpressed. “When I said I didn’t you care if you fell to your deaths, I didn’t mean you two shouldn’t care about your own lives either!”

“We’re not making out!” Toudou shrills.

“Does it look like I care?” Arakita retorts. “If you’re done reconciling or whatever the hell you’re doing right now, get back inside. We finished dinner already, but there’s still dessert left. Don’t expect me to save you any chocolate cake if you decide to stay here forever.”

As he turns to leave, Toudou lets go of Makishima, scrambling to his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth. “Arakita!”

Arakita whips around. “Stop yelling! The neighbours are going to call the cops on us if you’re too noisy!”

“Arakita,” Toudou repeats, quieter but still loud enough for Arakita to hear. “Thank you.”

“Tch. Whatever.” In spite of his words, there’s a smirk splitting Arakita’s face when he strides away and Toudou can’t help the delighted laugh that bubbles out of his chest.

He turns back to face Makishima, who’s watching him with a tender expression that Toudou hasn’t seen for a long time. When he notices Toudou is watching him back, he instantly breaks eye contact, mumbling something Toudou can’t hear under his breath, and Toudou’s mouth twitches into a fond smile.

“Maki-chan,” he says warmly, holding out one hand. “Let’s go.”

Makishima meets his eyes. They’re the same vivid blue as always, sparkling with an emotion Toudou can’t put into words but knows all the same. “Yeah.”

He takes his hand.

#toumaki advent calendar 2018 #submission #toumaki #fantasysorceress #spider-maki

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hornedwyvern · 7 years

Text

Dew Drops in March ❈ Part One.

A short fan fiction of Ancient Magus' Bride. I wanted to write Elias formally asking Chise to marry him. I plan to do a full fiction around this initial plot of Chise being older but for now -- sugary fluff. Please enjoy.

Word Count: 2,489

You're always on my mind

And I never minded being on my own

Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home

To be where you are

But even closer to you, you seem so very far

And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing

And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind

Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear

Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

- Florence and the Machine’s ‘Wishing you Were Here.’

❈

"Is this the one?” The fair sales clerk questioned.

"This is it." Elias agreed, his voice confident. He held a brilliant old ring with a band woven endlessly, symbolizing the promise to be made. Upon it’s crown held a old but superb ruby that dazzled a color mimic of heirloom roses. The ring had seen many days and nights but it shined the brightest among all the other rings; calling him to it like a song in the night that was starless. It was the perfect trinket to ask the question of questions, Elias would finally ask Chise to take a path beside him he’d never imagine taking; To marry him.. Properly.

Somber was the rainy day in the heart of London. The gods favored a dismal song as their tears fell into raindrops and soaking the sleeping bister earth. Its heights would phase in and out, some times allowing the sun to peek from it's safety of the clouds surrounding it; releasing spears of golden saffron light. Even with it's benevolent rays, the air was brisk to the touch, you had to wear a thick jacket to escape it's wintry grasp. When the sky was thick with dark, soulless clouds, a exhale of breath manifested into a alabaster smoke in front of you. No doubt it was the thralls of winter and had no intentions going any where any time soon.

A bustling station was the one to take into the heart of town. A commute most knew every day but a treat for Elias. He wasn’t the biggest fan of actually going into town but today was a special day, so special that he had to keep a secret from his pupil; Chise -- a bit older and really not his pupil any more, oddly she just tended to live with him and assist him with his home-bound shop. He could not produce a word to label what she currently was to him but if he had to describe it.. It was special. A very very intense feeling of special. His heart grew cold and desolate in the time she’d been away from him. He was more than elated to have her home and safe with him again. He was warm again.

“Is this the right stop?” Said a familiar voice, trailing behind Elias as he disembarked from the shaking train cart. Encircled them was the crowds of people going to and from where ever their destination was; the sound of their voice like a rush of water that one could not make out a singular word.

“It should be. If I remember things right.” Elias responded, he’d dawned his glamour to avoid the unnecessary attention. He stroked the long xathous fibers into place behind his ear.

Ruth; a loyal soul bound to Chise stood beside Elias, his stature reaching now to Elias’ shoulder and charcoal tinted hair falling into the tips of his collar bone. In the ten years he and Chise had been gone, he too had aged along with her. A resilient sternness still flecked in the color of his wine shaded eyes. He surveyed the flit train station intensely, smelling for any threats to be found.

“Ah this way --” The tall gentlemen gestured the direction with his long cane.

When Chise had turned 24 she started to experience a sense of wanderlust. For months her body grew tired of the confines around her. She and Ruth started to feel cramp, it was clear after about 3 months of oblivious remarks and actions; Elias was just too dense to notice it right away. When Chise finally had to be blunt it was very hard for him to swallow the fact his apprentice -- his very special apprentice was starting to out grow the country sides. It was time for the juvenile robin to take her first flight. She’d learned almost all she could from him, that was usually when students take off, right?

But was it he who was ready to let her go? She couldn’t remain here for ever. Chise had to live her life, she had to become who she was destined to be. If he made her stay she would surely come to resent him and .. likely leave him any way. Elias caved in and allowed Chise to go, as much as he hated it but this would make her happy and her happiness is his happiness. That’s what he told himself every night for months after she’d left.

It felt like he lived through ten years of winter.

It wasn’t all that bad, he would get a letter every few weeks of what she was doing. America, Canada, South Africa, Brazil -- She even went back to Japan for awhile as well. She’d gotten a job working with plants and making new forms of Medicine as well living in a Guild of Mages who were stationed in America. Her career took her to the far sides of the world; Chise was living passionately as Elias had wanted her to do. Each letter he got was always a new surprise and adventure that he lived vicariously through her. Her photographs were a collection on his study’s wall. A shrine to her and all she did, Elias was very proud of his student.

After a few years the letter started to come less and less. She’d written in one she’d left the guild and pursued different interests. Well that was how she’d worded it but entailed of nothing of where she was going or doing. Soon after that he received no letters for almost a year, this made for some very agitated months and sleepless nights. Elias decided to write a letter to the Guild she’d been with, asking of her whereabouts, promptly getting a reply a day or so after. It came on the wings of a large moth made of paper.

‘Dear Sir Ainsworth

We appreciate your letter and concern, Chise was like family in the time she’d spent with is here. We all miss her very deeply and are too worrisome of where she may be.

I too have taken the liberty to seek Chise and where she might be. My attempts were proven fruitless and can only hope that she is safe and warm. I hope that you will be more fortunate in locating her and if you do, please write to us. We are all eager to hear of Chise’s en devours and hope she might return to us one day.

Your faithful kin in magic,

Nikolai Van de Berg,’

Elias took a long pause after reading over the exceptional typed letter, Nikolai had used a old fashion type-writer. The ink still deep in it’s onyx color and smell, this letter had come all the way from America; it’s feeling alien to a English Gentlemen as himself.

For some time, Elias grew quiet. What had become of Chise? The days worn long and the nights quiet.

Cold, like any day in March it had begun with the fog blanketing the lush verdant fields. It was the perfect weather for their neighbors to rejoice in the refreshing morning light. Playful Water Aerials toyed with the dew. Sprinkling the Spring Flowers that had budded barely that sunrise; their wild, untamed color shimmering like diamonds against the rays of light beaming unto the rolling fields. As they danced through the new born zephyr, the neighbors exulted ancient songs welcoming the change of the seasons.

The tranquil mage started his day like any other. Cleaned, dressed, fed and checking that any prescriptions or customer requests had been made and filled. Elias was thankful for Silky, she kept some of his most used spaces free from clutter and organized. Luckily they were all up to speed and only needed to dispense the stock when their customers arrived. Elias dutifully arranged the packets based on who he remembered showing up the earliest in the day. At least he could now focus on other duties. Maybe arrange some of his books, prune the garden? The greenhouse plants could use some water he thought.

The sun casted highest in the sky, drying the wild flowers of their dew. By now the Aerials had flown some where new, home likely? Elias doused the potted herbs with a old tin watering can. It was mundane of a mage so powerful as him but it was the little things that he took pleasure in now in these silent days. He’d finished through the cooking herbs when the can drew thin of any water. That was no good, Elias rolled up his sleeves. The spout was at the back of the house; once they met he pumped the lever to summon a stream of water. Fresh, robust water filling the can, shaking it’s metallic body.

Silky turned the corner that Elias was near, she had a liveliness in her eyes that he had not seen in awhile. The mute house-spirit begged of Elias to join him in the house.

“A visitor?” He questioned, the last of the water filling the can; droplets dripping into it. Something did feel amiss now he thought about it.

This was curious, if it was a customer she could have tended to the transaction herself. Maybe it was Simon or Angie, it would have to be someone of importance to get Silky this energetic.

Elias walked through the Greenhouse, taking his cloak he’d left on the table and dawning it. The air of the house had changed dramatically, it’s scent that of pine and lavender, had Silky been baking something? But it was then the energy started to become surreal, he had not felt a efflux like this in years. It could only be one thing, Elias stepped faster, his heart resonating like a drum in a band. The walls of his home never felt so long, they seemed unending like the anxiety riddling his brain. Had she come home to him?

The first thing he saw was the cardinal red of her hair, next her tender foliated eyes that had turned to him with a kindness he remembered like it was yesterday. With teacup in hand, Chise sat on the love seat beside Ruth who laid with her in his true-born state. Both master and apprentice stared at each other for a second -- a second that felt like hours. Elias couldn’t help to let his mouth gape which only conjured a laugh that vibrated from Chise’s throat.

“Hi Elias.” Her meek words said over her cup of tea.

“Chise.” The flummox of a man choked.

She’d grown up, his fledgling was no longer the small, quiet girl he’d won so many years ago. She was a woman with a ageless wonder echoing within her gaze, it was a beauty to behold because really Elias felt like he was staring back at someone new, someone he’d never know. Sheepishly he pressed his hand against his heart as Chise explain where she had been and done. This human feeling was foreign.

“I decided to go back home.. Well Japan that is. I was working in a book store--”

She continued to tell her story with a calm pride as they both sipped on Earl Grey tea served in mint and pearl cups decorated with pastel sweet-peas. Her hair had grown long, draping her shoulders, her hands, fingers callous and skin freckled with new beauty marks; Elias silently investigated all of it. He had not seen her in five years, how strange humans can change their appearance so fast.

“It was very simple living there, working a day job and paying bills. I felt very normal for some time, as if my life as a mage never really happened.” Chise chuckled at the end, relaying over her thoughts. “But I read some old books in English my manager had gotten from a sale. He didn’t know how to read them so he let me have the collection. A lot of them were poetry and one day I read one about a man who looked like a beast. I couldn’t tell if it was based off a fairy-tale but it made me feel very melancholy. I wanted to run away right after that -- some thing in me awoke. Like a bear or a wolf, it pried to be released and run home.” Chise sighed a sigh. “So I did, I decided to come home.”

She looked at Elias with a sincere fixation. He sat there was a blank as a board, as if she was about to ask him of something; he prepared for the impact.

“I think I wanted to come home to you. You and simplicity of the life here. For so long I feel I have been wandering aimlessly.” The sleigh beggy pulled at a piece of her red hair, admiring Ruth’s sleeping form beside her or just avoiding Elias’ fixed gaze on her. He was frozen in his seat, not saying a single thing but a question or two here or there. It made Chise quiet nervous to see him so silent.

“I was hoping may I can stay here for awhile?” The question kicked Elias from his concentration; his deep set eyes jolting to their original crimson shade. He coughed with his balled fist over his long snout before speaking properly.

“Of course, this will always be your home. You may stay as long as you like.” His gentle voice told her, leaning a bit forward in his chair.

The serenity labeled on his canine face made Chise feel warm and accepted, he couldn’t change his expression but from so many years of being by his side she instantly knew; Elias was exuberant to have her home, he just was expressing it poorly at this time. A heart warming smile listed across her softened pale face. His hand was laid on the arm of his lounge, her fingers ghosted over the length of his large appendage, finally laying it on top of it.

Quickly the mage took notice, slowly flipping it over so their fingers could weave together and clasp. His hands were like a new chapter in a book, Chise felt something grow anew, eager to flip the pages that was him and what new lessons he would teach her. It wasn’t the same when they were young and stood aside each other and Master and Apprentice. It was fresh, born and new. Her heart leapt underneath her chest.

She had found her way home; back to him.

Her eyes admired the living room as if she was remembering it’s contours once again. Salamanders spat fire at each other in the hearth, their reddish bodies crawling over the scorched logs, the lengths of fire like grass. Chise stared at that as well the books that littered the walls around them, her gaze back to Elias who still stared at her; their eyes met.

“Welcome Home, Chise.”

#ancient magus' bride #ancient magus bride #elias ainsworth #elias #chise hatori #elias x chise #chise x elias #ruth #silky #fanfiction

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