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Tackle the Monsters

Description: Masaru has always wanted to "The Hero," and though he has always tried his best to be a hero for his friends, Kotoko has long been of the opinion that the only hero she can really count on is herself. Though he might never be able to offer her a rescue, no matter how much he might want to, maybe sometimes all it takes to be a hero is being there when someone needs you…

Fandom: Danganronpa (Specifically Ultra Despair Girls. Danganronpa 2 characters also appear but are not centric)

Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort and Fluff, Future Fic (nearly) 20 Years Post-Canon. Also includes: Fairy Lights, Forts, Flashback Scenes, and Fuyupeko (Kuzupeko) domestic bliss and babies because I love them.

Relationships: Masaru Daimon & Kotoko Utsugi Friendship almost 20 years in the future (A/N: I wrote this as a platonic work about their friendship, but as they're both 30 years old here, I guess you could take it in a more romantic-ish(?) way if you just really wanted to see it (maybe?). That was not my intention in writing, however, and in my mind, this is Friendship Hurt/Comfort). Warriors of Hope Friendship (Masaru Daimon & Kotoko Utsugi & Nagisa Shingetsu & Jataro Kemuri) mentioned and depicted in a flashback. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu & Masaru Daimon friendship. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu/Peko Pekoyama established relationship (with a child).

Characters: Masaru Daimon (POV Character) and Kotoko Utsugi. Nagisa Shingetsu and Jataro Kemuri are mentioned and physically appear in a flashback in this story. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu and Peko Pekoyama briefly appear as well.

Rating: T for Thematic Elements and Some Language (Please see "Warnings" below for more details).

Warnings: Vaguely implied/mentioned childhood trauma and abuse. (A/N: This is hurt/comfort, but the past childhood trauma and abuse is only implied as vaguely and subtly as possible while still being treated with the sensitivity and gravity it warrants). Unhealthy coping is mentioned. Healthy coping is also mentioned and depicted. Legal/of age drinking is also implied/mentioned. Insecurities. Nightmares are mentioned but not depicted. Aftermath of nightmares is depicted. Some language. (A/N: I like to think they characters are in a better place psychologically here (nearly 20 years after Ultra Despair Girls and having begun to get the therapy they so desperately need), but they still have a ways to go and don't always cope in the best/healthiest way. Healing is a journey).

Word Count: 5588

Link to original post on AO3. Please do not repost to another site.

Note: Many thanks to @repo-net for reading through part of this story and providing very helpful notes and feedback! I hope you'll enjoy the finished story as well.

Story below the cut. Thank you for reading!

Masaru ruffled his hand through his hair as he took off his motorcycle helmet—not that it made much of a difference. It was probably still a mess as usual. Despite Nagisa’s scolding that at thirty years old he ought to know how to make himself look semi-presentable, Masaru didn’t care too much about the way he looked. In fact, he felt that his often tousled, messy “helmet hair” was part of his charm.

With a conceding shrug of his shoulders, he pulled his shopping bag and takeout containers from the built-in storage of his bike and headed up the driveway. He had barely taken a few steps when a high-pitched voice called out, “Uncle Masaru!”

Masaru blinked as four-year-old Natsumi Kuzuryu darted out of the garage where her parents were busy packing up their car for their trip. “Hey there, Tater Tot,” he said with a smile as she hugged him.

“Natsumi,” sighed her father, Fuyuhiko, following in close pursuit. “I’m sure he’s not here to see you.” He turned to Masaru with apologetic eyes, but Masaru just laughed and waved his hand.

“No problem, boss.”

Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. He didn’t much care for being called that—often said it made him sound like a mob boss when he was running a perfectly reputable business of independent security contractors, mostly for Togami and the Future Foundation—which seemed to be one and the same these days—and their related projects and investments, of course. Masaru often wondered what Fuyuhiko would be doing if the Kuzuryu Crime Syndicate hadn’t been destroyed in the chaos following the Tragedy, but even he knew better than to bring it up and, instead, insisted that because the former Ultimate Yakuza was, in fact, his boss now, such a nickname was warranted.

“Can I give you a hand with those suitcases?” asked Masaru, but Fuyuhiko shook his head.

“We’ve just about got it, I think.”

“Let him help load the rest,” said Mrs. Boss, Peko, peeking out from behind the side of the trunk. “We’re already running behind as it is.”

Fuyuhiko sighed but conceded, “Alright. If you really want to help, but I know that you’re probably just here to see Kotoko, right?”

Masaru shrugged. “Eh. It can wait a minute.” He sat his bags down on a work bench in the garage as he reached for some of the suitcases to load into the trunk.

“Auntie Kotoko can’t come with us because she has to work,” said Natsumi with a frown.

Masaru turned to Fuyuhiko whose own frown looked an awfully lot like his daughter’s. “We did invite her,” he explained shuffling his feet. “Just in case she didn’t want to stay here alone, you know?”

Stacking two suitcases in the back of the car, Masaru nodded. He had been thinking the same thing after all. Kotoko lived in an apartment above the Kuzuryu family’s house—which may or may not have been the result of Masaru pulling a couple of strings, though he’d never tell her that. Though Kotoko never really talked about it, he knew she felt a lot safer knowing that Peko and Fuyuhiko were on the floors below her along with their state-of-the-art security system, and this would be the longest both of them would be gone with Natsumi.

“You excited for your trip, Natsumi?” asked Masaru changing the subject.

Her little braids bobbed up and down excitedly as she nodded. “Yeah! I’m gonna play with the Dark Devas of Destruction.”

“Hamsters,” Peko explained dryly as she loaded the last of the bags into the car and closed the trunk.

Masaru stifled a laugh. “Sounds fun.”

“It is really fun! They have a wheel where they run around like this”—giggling, she made a circular motion with her finger—“And Auntie Sonia made them sweaters.”

“Alright,” said Fuyuhiko with a light chuckle. Natsumi giggled even more when her father lifted her up onto his back. “Let’s let your Uncle Masaru get going, okay?”

Natsumi pouted, but eventually, she sighed. “Okay, Papa.” Her face brightened, and she smiled as she turned to wave at him. “Bye, Uncle Masaru.”

“So long, Tater Tot. Have a great trip!”

“We’ll try,” sighed Fuyuhiko wearily. Masaru knew he cared about his former classmates, but he also knew that the fact he cared about them didn’t mean he didn’t find their unique brand of chaos a little tiring at times, especially now that he was a father and had enough domestic chaos keeping him on his toes. It was probably a little like how Fuyuhiko felt about him, now that he thought about it—an almost exasperated affection one would have towards a somewhat wayward little brother. Masaru’s mouth twitched in the corners at the thought.

After the Kuzuryus started to get into the car and they all waved their final goodbyes, Masaru picked up his bags and made his way around the garage to the door on the side of the house. He pressed the buzzer more times than was probably necessary.

“Natsumi?” asked Kotoko’s voice from the intercom.

“Nope. Guess again,” Masaru teased.

“Masaru? What are you doing here?”

Masaru shrugged before he realized she couldn’t actually see him at the moment. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.” He paused, and when she didn’t respond added, “I brought food.”

Kotoko sighed. “Alright. Come on up.”

The door buzzed as it unlocked, and Masaru bounded up the long, narrow flight of stairs behind it. These stairs were nothing for the former Li��l Ultimate P.E., of course, but Masaru often wondered if Kotoko ever grew tired of lugging things up and down them into her apartment at the top since there wasn’t an elevator like there was in Masaru’s building. As much as he usually took the stairs back home to run off excess energy, it was still nice to have the option of taking the elevator, particularly if he was carrying something heavy like furniture.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Masaru turned right and knocked on Kotoko’s door under the shiny, silver 2 which was affixed to it despite this being the only apartment. Masaru knew the apartment number had been a gift from Jataro back when he had taken up metal-working as a new hobby a couple of years ago. Around the same time, Jataro had made similar metal carvings of their names to mark Masaru’s, Nagisa’s, and his own rooms, respectively, in the apartment in the city center where they lived as roommates, and when he asked the building manager if he could make a number for their door, their landlord liked it so much he commissioned Jataro to make metal numbers for every other apartment in their building.

If Masaru had to guess, this was a little too much for Jataro who decided as soon as the project was finished that he needed a long break from metal-working. He hadn’t picked it back up since, though he always had several creative, crafty hobbies to keep him busy when he wasn’t working on his prosthetic designs. The field of prosthetics was Jataro’s main career, and he was almost as passionate about it as Nagisa was passionate about his air filtration systems or whatever it was that he did with the Future Foundation. Between Nagisa’s use of complex, technical language and extremely field-specific jargon, Masaru could never really tell what it was that he did exactly, but he figured asking him to explain it to him like he was in elementary school would be a little too embarrassing.

“Hi. Come on in,” said Kotoko ushering him through the doorway. She was dressed in sweats or possibly pajamas—Masaru wasn’t always the best at telling the difference—and her hair, dyed dark and cropped short, was wet and scraggly. Masaru fidgeted. He had probably interrupted her plans to turn in early and catch up on the sleep she had missed out of during the busy workweek. “Please excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting company,” she continued before she tilted her head pointedly at him. “Would it have killed you to call first?”

Masaru shrugged with a somewhat lopsided grin. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Mhmm…” she hummed with a frown as she walked over towards the sofa.

Kotoko’s apartment was modestly sized, especially for only one person living there, and Masaru didn’t think it was nearly as messy as she was worried about. After all, he could only imagine what a pigsty his apartment would be if it was just him and Jataro living there without Nagisa and his “chore chart” to keep it tidy. That reminded him, it was his turn to clean the kitchen floor—he’d have to remember to do that when he got home.

As Masaru sighed and shook his head at the thought, he caught sight of a large stack of files on a nearby desk out of the corner of his eye. His brow furrowed.

“Did you bring your work home with you?”

Kotoko frowned. “I always bring my work home with me.”

Something stormy crossed Kotoko’s eyes, and Masaru wondered if she meant that in a less literal sense. She worked with the newly instated child protective services—with kids who were orphaned or displaced in their slowly rebuilding post-apocalyptic world—and maybe it was too many years of court-ordered therapy talking but he couldn’t help but wonder if, in Kotoko’s mind, when she saved those kids, she was really saving herself. After all there had been a time when she needed a hero but hadn’t had one, and while Masaru had tried to be one for her, he had been too messed up by all the things that had happened to him to be much of a hero for anybody, even himself. Besides, by that point, Kotoko had long learned that the only hero she could really rely on was herself and hadn’t wanted much “rescuing” from him, Nagisa, or Jataro.

That certainly didn’t stop them from trying to take care of her the best they could from a distance though. It was the main reason he was here after all, but he knew Kotoko well enough to know that if he told her that, she’d close the door in his face and send him home with far too much takeout for one person to eat. Masaru sighed. He also knew that it wouldn’t be long now until she started asking him why he was here. He’d have to hurry up and think up a good excuse before she…

“Masaru,” she interrupted his thoughts, quirking an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing here?”

There it was. He should win some sort of a prize for predicting it, Masaru thought. He twisted his mouth to one side, but his expression quickly softened as he tilted his head at her and teasingly clicked his tongue. “What? I can’t come visit you, now?”

Kotoko frowned. “Don’t you have a date or something?”

“Eh. There’ll be others.” Masaru’s mouth twitched into a lopsided smile. “Besides, I’d rather be—“

“I’m sure there will.” She cut him off before he could finish his thought, and—Masaru frowned—it was a good one too. Something nice and complimentary about how he’d much rather spend the evening with a friend than out on the town. He sighed. Kotoko would never get to hear it now, but it didn’t seem to bother her much as she crossed her arms and glowered pointedly at him.

With a slight shake of his head, Masaru ran his hand through his unruly hair. He probably should have expected this reaction—after all, it was no secret that Kotoko didn’t approve of his current preoccupation with relationships, probably more so than even Nagisa who was in the habit of referring to it as his most recent “drug of choice,” like his dates were no different than Kotoko’s liquor bottles.

They weren’t, but that didn’t mean Masaru didn’t sometimes worry that hearing about them sent the same kind of chill down Kotoko’s spine that he had whenever he caught sight of her extensive alcohol collection. Still, he knew Kotoko wasn’t an alcoholic just like, he hoped, she knew he wasn’t a lech. For the most part, they decided it was best to just stay out of each other’s business and not to talk about it. Of course, that was easier said than done when Kotoko was glaring at him like this…

“Look,” he sighed. “I know you’re upset that I keep getting in relationships…”

“Don’t be stupid,” huffed Kotoko. “I don’t have a problem with you getting into relationships. Just because I don’t want one, doesn’t mean that I don’t want anyone to have one.”

Masaru’s brow furrowed. “Then what’s the problem?”

“You go through relationships faster than paper towels and keep getting out of them whenever you get bored.”

Wow. She didn’t even miss a beat. He knew she could be blunt, and she wouldn’t quite be Kotoko without some sort of metaphor that didn’t make total sense but… “Bored?”

“Masaru…” Kotoko crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “You haven’t had a relationship that lasts more than a month, and most of them only last a couple of days, if that.”

“That’s not true,” he interjected before she could say anything else. “I’ve had a few that lasted two months.”

Kotoko’s brow furrowed, and she blinked at him. “Right, because that’s so much longer…”

Masaru supposed she had a point. He did have a track record of short relationships, the shortest being only 45 minutes until he finally faked food poisoning after getting asked one too many questions about his childhood.

He sighed. Kotoko was wrong. He didn’t get out of relationships because he got bored, he got out of them because he got scared. It was a lot easier to leave early instead of waiting around for someone to realize what a screw up you were and run out on you.

He shook his head and pushed the thought away. “Fine, never mind. Just forget it. We all have our vices, don’t we?”

“At least mine don’t hurt anybody else.”

Masaru frowned as he caught sight of the cluster of half-empty liquor bottles on her counter. He shook his head, remembering how Nagisa had come home one night with a busted lip and black eye after getting in a fight with some thug who had been harassing Kotoko in a bar. How every so often chestnut trees would start popping up in Jataro’s artwork, and they’d know it meant he was worried about her. How when he wasn’t working through his own shit at the gym, he was thinking about her and pushing himself well past his limits until he was achy and exhausted as if he could somehow lift out, bike out, punch out, or run out his worry for her. He’d come home in the middle of the night, finding Nagisa still wide awake from worrying about everybody but himself, and though they wouldn’t ever talk about it, Masaru would know he understood—after all, he had been up scrubbing the counters until his fingers were raw for the very same reason.

Still, he sighed and conceded, “Look. I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

Her eyes narrowed curiously. “Why did you come?”

“I thought it might be fun to have dinner together. Jataro went to bed early because he has a cold, and Nagisa’s working late so—”

“You were lonely,” she interrupted with an almost-teasing roll of her eyes. She chuckled. “Alright, fine. What kind of food did you get?”

Masaru smiled brightly as he held out the bag of takeout boxes to her. “Soba noodles.”

After she took the bag from him, Kotoko laid the containers out on the counter, but her brow furrowed. “What’s in that bag?”

Masaru fidgeted—twisting the handles of the extra bag in his hand. “Oh. Uh…fairy lights.”

“Fairy lights? Why?”

“I thought maybe you might want to make a blanket fort.” Masaru shrugged his shoulders, and Kotoko laughed.

“A blanket fort? We’re thirty years old—don’t you think we’re a little old for that?”

“You sound like Nagisa,” quipped Masaru with a playful roll of his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with being in-tune with your inner child.”

“I don’t even remember the last time I built a blanket fort.”

Masaru’s face softened. Kotoko might not remember, but he did. It was probably why he even thought about the fairy lights in the first place. Though it was nearly two decades ago he could still remember it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

*-*-*

Masaru bolted up in bed—his heart pounding. Drenched in sweat, he struggled to catch his breath as if he had just run a marathon. The sounds of screaming rang out again, and he sprang out of bed onto shaking legs. So he hadn’t imagined it after all. He couldn’t always tell the difference between reality and his vivid nightmares. In this case, however, he was sure that the screaming noises were coming from down the hallway, rather than from the monsters in his own mind. Someone was in trouble.

Without a second thought, he sprinted into the hall and ran smack into Jataro who fumbled around with a wide-rimmed bowl in his hands.

“Woah. Sorry,” he said as he helped Jataro steady himself. “What’s with the bowl?”

“It’s water. I thought it might help.”

Masaru’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t sure how a bowl of water could help in this situation, but it probably made Jataro feel better to think he was helping in some way so Masaru decided not to question it. Instead he asked, “So you heard it too?”

Jataro nodded solemnly. “It’s coming from down there. Nagisa or Kotoko probably…”

Masaru could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as he took off down the hallway. Whatever was going on down there, they could take it right? At least he could. After all, he was the hero…

Kotoko’s door was ajar, and the closer they got to it the easier it was to hear Nagisa’s voice. Even though Masaru couldn’t quite make out the exact words he was saying, the tone of his voice was calm and even, most unlike the cloud of panic that wafted into the room as Jataro and Masaru rushed through the doorway.

“What’s going—?”

“Shh…” shushed Nagisa quietly turning towards the doorway while pressing a finger to his lips. Kotoko’s room was dark aside from the few strands of fairy lights which were strung across her shelves and dresser, but in the dim light, Masaru could see that Kotoko was sitting up cross-legged on the bed. Her eyes were wide and teary but almost mesmerized by the fairy lights as her lips barely moved, no audible sounds to be heard. Nagisa sat in a chair beside the bed, and when Kotoko shivered and let out a painful whimpering noise, he returned to what, Masaru presumed, he had been saying before, “Kotoko, you’re in your room in Towa City. It’s the third of November at 1:30 in the morning. It’s dark outside because it’s the middle of the night, but it’s supposed to be sunny and a little windy today after the sun rises.”

“Nagisa, I brought this,” whispered Jataro pushing the bowl of water into Nagisa’s hands. Masaru blinked, unsure of when exactly Jataro had managed to slip past him into the room. “Do you think it could help?”

The corners of Nagisa’s mouth twitched. “Thanks, Jataro,” he said quietly as he sat the bowl next to Kotoko. “Kotoko, Jataro is here too. He brought some water for you. Can you put your hand in the water?”

There was a long, heavy pause. Kotoko, it seemed, couldn’t pry her eyes away from the fairy lights, but she did eventually place her hand in the bowl. Masaru finally willed his legs to move and stumbled through the doorway over to Kotoko’s bedside. Her eyes were glossed over—distant and tearful as they stared intently at the strings of lights, her lips still slowly moving as if she was mouthing words. No, not words. Numbers. She was counting the lights.

Something clicked in Masaru’s brain, and he could’ve almost kicked himself for taking so long to figure it all out. He ran out into the hall as fast as he could and back into his room until he finally stopped in front of a shelf full of used and oftentimes busted bottles. Perfumes, colognes, body mists, and room sprays—anything with a pleasant scent strong enough to cut through the reek of booze and cigarette smoke that haunted his dreams and filled his room when his nightmares bled into his reality.

He had no idea which ones Kotoko might like or what might help her so he tried to grab all of them which only resulted in him fumbling around with arms filled with dropping bottles. He swerved so they wouldn’t all clatter to the floor and break and instead let them fall onto the bed. He frowned and decided to grab only his two favourites, since that’s what he could carry in his hands, figuring he could always come back and get more if neither of these worked.

When he returned to Kotoko’s room, she had stopped shaking though she was still counting the lights. Nagisa was talking about everything they had seen on a recent walk through the park, and Jataro was keeping quiet vigil and holding the bowl of water steady so it wouldn’t spill as Kotoko splashed her hand around in it.

Masaru carefully crept into the room and took his place beside Jataro, but before he could hand off the bottles to Nagisa, Kotoko blinked her eyes and said quietly, “I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

Nagisa sighed sympathetically. “You don’t have to apologize. We’re all just glad you’re okay.”

Kotoko looked around the room. Her eyes stopping on each of them. “I didn’t want you all to worry about me.”

“We’re your friends,” chimed Jataro. “It’s what friends do, right?”

Kotoko’s face fell guiltily, and she grew suddenly interested in her hands. “Thanks. But you can all go back to bed now…” Her voice trailed. “I really didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Like hell we will.” Masaru felt all the eyes in the room suddenly turn and stare at him at this outburst. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mean, uh…I don’t know about you guys, but I was up anyway.”

“Uh yeah…” lied Jataro. “Me too.”

Even honest-to-a-fault Nagisa nodded. “I was reading.”

“See we were all up. You have nothing to feel bad about or anything,” said Masaru with a shrug.

From the look Kotoko was giving him now, he could tell that she knew they probably weren’t telling her the whole truth, but she sighed, clearly lacking the energy or motivation to argue about it and said, “Alright. Well…what then? Are you just suggesting we all stay up all night…again? What would we even do?”

Masaru tilted his head, almost waiting for Nagisa to lecture them about how they needed their sleep or something like that, but he didn’t say anything and instead stared at the fairy lights. That gave Masaru an idea.

“What if we built a blanket fort?”

“What?” asked a cacophony of his friends’ voices.

“Yeah, we could all gather up the blankets and pillows from our rooms and build a big fort out of them. We could even have snacks and play games and stuff—it’ll be bright enough because we can use the fairy lights as the light in the fort.” He beamed. “What do you say?”

“That sounds like a fire hazard,” said Nagisa with a frown.

“Oh come on,” whined Masaru. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud. It’ll be fun.”

Nagisa twisted his mouth to one side, but it eventually twitched in the corners. He sighed, “Alright.”

“And Jataro can decorate it,” added Masaru, and Jataro practically lit up at the idea.

“What do you think, Kotoko?”

Kotoko’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, but she eventually shrugged her shoulders. “I guess that could be fun…”

*-*-*

“Masaru?” asked Kotoko pulling him out of his thoughts. She tilted her head at him with that all too familiar ‘you’re zoning out again’ look.

Masaru chuckled and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “Yeah…it’s been a while, but it could be fun right?”

Kotoko blinked at him but sighed with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I guess…” She sighed again. “I still think it’s kind of silly, but if you want to eat our takeout in a blanket fort, fine.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Nagisa.” Masaru crossed his arms with a playful pout, and Kotoko barely stifled a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the only time in Nagisa’s life he’s been called a bad influence.”

“I didn’t say bad. I meant boring, and he’s always been a boring influence.” Masaru chuckled as he sat the shopping bag filled with fairy lights on the counter. “Too bad he isn’t here to make sure our fort isn’t a fire hazard.”

“I think who we’re really missing is Jataro. Whatever we make will look like garbage without him.”

As Kotoko pulled an extra sheet out of the closet in the hallway and draped it over the backs of two chairs and the sofa, Masaru supposed she was probably right. Their fort wasn’t much to look at. Jataro probably would have been appalled if he had been there—Nagisa too for that matter though his issue would have been with the fort’s structural integrity rather than its meager aesthetic.

Masaru looked around for something heavy to hold the sheet in place, a trick he remembered Nagisa had tried out back in the day, before eventually deciding that Kotoko’s pots and pans would likely do the trick. Kotoko glared at him as he stacked her cookware on top of each other on the seats of the chair and sofa to anchor their makeshift roof, but she huffed with a look that said, “if you must…” Masaru beamed almost triumphantly as he added the finishing touches of draped fairy lights and crawled into the makeshift structure, sinking into the stack of pillows, throw blankets, and sofa cushions Kotoko had piled into their fort. For the first time in a long time, he almost felt like a kid again.

“After you, Milady,” he teased with a playful bow, peeking his head out of the structure and motioning inside.

Kotoko rolled her eyes and tapped him teasingly on the back of the head muttering, “Goofball” before following him into the fort with the food containers.

Building a fort may have made Masaru feel like a kid again, but having to contort himself to comfortably fit inside said blanket fort given his long legs and broad shoulders reminded him that his childhood was long gone. After all, there had once been a time when not only him and Kotoko but Nagisa and Jataro as well could all easily fit in a blanket fort of this size, with space to spare, if he remembered correctly. He could still picture Jataro and Nagisa curled up next to each other sound asleep while he and Kotoko sprawled out on the floor of the fort staring up at the twinkling fairy lights. Maybe he should try that now, Masaru thought, as he decided to stretch his feet outside of the structure with a somewhat defeated huff.

Kotoko blinked at him before sprawling out on the ground next to him. The fairy lights overhead twinkled and sparkled. He hadn’t realized that he had purchased pink ones, but he supposed that was appropriate. He would probably forever associate Kotoko with the color even though she had long since dyed her hair and it had been ages since he had seen her wear anything pink. Even the pillows and blankets she had brought out for their fort were neutral tones—greys and beiges. He knew she had sworn off anything remotely “adorbs” long ago, but he still wished she hadn’t had to.

“Masaru?”

“Hm?” Humming, he shifted towards her, but she wasn’t looking at him—her gaze transfixed on the fairy lights.

“I lied.” Kotoko sighed, and Masaru’s brow furrowed. “I do remember the last time we built a blanket fort…”

Masaru blinked and scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t have blamed you for forgetting…”

Kotoko turned towards him with a slight smile as her hand ruffled through the ends of his unruly strands of hair. “I’m not as fragile as you think, you know?”

“I didn’t say you were—” he began, but she cut him off with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“But thanks.” Her smile widened, and Masaru’s own mouth curved into a beaming grin. Kotoko quickly reached for the takeout boxes with an almost playful, “Now let’s eat. I’m starving!” and that was the end of it. For the rest of the evening, they just sat together eating takeout and catching up, talking and laughing about the most mundane everyday things. But for Masaru, that was enough.

He had long ago accepted he wouldn’t be able to offer her a rescue, to tackle her monsters, no matter how much he wanted to, but he supposed sometimes all it took to be a hero was to be present, to be there for someone when they needed you. Masaru shrugged his shoulders. Kotoko was right: she wasn’t fragile. If anything, she was one of the strongest people he had ever known. And yeah…even Masaru could admit that maybe she didn’t need him, maybe she didn’t need some fairy lights or soba noodles or a blanket fort or the company of an old friend, but—he thought as a smile tugged at his lips—they couldn’t hurt.

*-*-*

“Masaru, are you still awake?”

Masaru somewhat groggily rubbed his eyes but rolled onto his side so he was facing her. “Mhmm…” he hummed, and it seemed like he was the only one who was still up as Nagisa and Jataro were leaning on each other, shoulder to shoulder and fast asleep. Masaru knew they had tried their best to stay awake all night, but they eventually tuckered out and crashed in the corner of their blanket fort. “You wanna have a contest to see who can stay up the longest? Nagisa and Jataro already lost.”

Kotoko chuckled breathily, quietly enough to avoid waking their sleeping friends. “You should get some sleep too.”

“What about you?” he asked with a frown.

Kotoko stared up at the strings of lights hanging from the canopy of blankets forming the roof of their fort almost pensively. After a long pause, she whispered, “Masaru…you were asleep earlier weren’t you? All of you were?” Masaru fidgeted but didn’t say anything—averting his eyes when Kotoko glared at him with a pointed “Masaru?”

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal. We just wanted to make sure you’re okay, okay? We all have nightmares, and we all help each other. That’s what friends do, Kotoko, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” Something panged in his chest. “If I could take all that away, if I could fight all the monsters, I would”—he curled his shaking hands into fists, his vision growing blurry—“but I can’t.” Nagisa hummed and stirred in his sleep, and Masaru realized his voice was growing louder than he had intended. He consciously tried to whisper as he repeated, “I can’t. I’m…I’m just a kid…” The next words spilled out of his mouth startling him nearly as much as they seemed to startle Kotoko. “Maybe…maybe if I’m older someday…maybe I’ll be strong enough to—”

Masaru stopped abruptly as Kotoko gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. It was only then that he really began to realize what he had said. “I…I don’t…uh…” he stumbled over his words. Though Masaru had lost track of how long it had been since they had given up on their ‘Children’s Paradise,’ he still wasn’t sure where his companions stood on the idea of growing old. He honestly wasn’t sure where he himself had stood on the subject and hadn’t really been aware that he had started to even consider the idea until those words had fallen out of his mouth just then. Still…he scrambled, “I…I didn’t mean to…I…”

“No, I… I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Kotoko confessed before adding quickly. “Don’t tell the others.”

Masaru nodded emphatically. “Hero’s honor.”

With a brisk, understanding nod, Kotoko sighed and sunk back into the stack of cushions and pillows lining the floor of their blanket fort. After another long, heavy pause, Kotoko whispered, “I think there are some monsters that will always be too big to fight...no matter how old and strong you are…”

“I’m still going to try.” Determinedly, Masaru clenched his hand into a fist. “No matter what, I’ll always be there to try to fight the monsters. Because that’s what a hero does.” His brow furrowed, and he twisted his mouth before he shrugged and beamed at Kotoko with a bright lopsided grin. “And I guess if that doesn’t work, I can always build another blanket fort to keep them out.”

#drae

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