Archive of Our Own

If it ever came down to drinks, no one would be caught dead lurking the sorry hallways of Anten. Nevermind sitting on its sticky seats. The disgusting things are worn beyond help, all their fake leather peeled off and coated in- whatever it is that left the remains all murky . Their springs gave out years before the owners even thought about nailing them to the floor like anyone would want to steal a couch that displaces their weight back on themselves. And that skirt she carelessly wore on her first time there? She had to throw it out. One is enough .

The music is so bad it’s like whoever’s in charge of it wants customers talking just to drown it out. Not even the bathroom has functioning lights. The damn bathroom !

Even as a casual comment the idea sounded… to put it lightly, pathetic. Of course there’d be those who’d jump at the sight of such a place, whatever talking to strangers in the dark fills for them, but Asuka had to laugh. As the devils that came up with the idea probably still do to this day.

That she has her own corner to stand in it is besides the point.

Rules were clear enough. The only somewhat clear thing in the entire place, actually. Written on the wall outside by the door, where the only lamp threw up its yellow light on half the letters. At most. No names, no prying, preaching or advice, nothing Asuka had any interest in to begin with.

So, anonymity is its deal, isn’t it? Why did it matter if she wanted to check out what kind of outcasts piled up inside? Hear what they had to say or whatever. As dull and irrelevant as it was. No one said she couldn’t make them aware of it.

That lost its charm quickly the first time someone spilled their drink on her. No wonder they had resorted to such a place when they couldn’t take the smallest hit. It was fine, though, since one-upping them with made-up tragedies was lots more fun. Oh, you supported your entire family on the money you got from your smoke but your magic doesn’t work anymore since you got in a fight? (Maybe you should’ve tried surrounding yourself with real sorcerers) Well, her magic got everyone she knew killed overnight and drained her lifespan in the process; some devil didn’t like your boyfriend’s face so they erased it and he suffocated? Well, at least he liked you back. At least you could enjoy his attention for a while, shouldn’t that be enough to consider yourself lucky?

… It was still vague enough to get away with it. It didn’t mean a thing.

Not that time, not any other where she could feel the other person’s stare at how sidetracked she’d had to be to turn a story about none of her potential partners surviving the last Blue Night- and how it could’ve been for the best, in the end- into what her magic felt like lodging back inside her after it wasn’t able to keep her boss’ attention on her for more than ten minutes anymore (and what did it feel like. When she can’t even sense Angel’s presence inside her. Usually).

Obviously, she left it all behind when Tanba fired her. From her new place, the way there no longer was a six minute walk from the convenience store; why the hell would she want to waste her train money on getting somewhere that smells like sewage? Not a question in the slightest.

She had more important things to spend her time on, by then. Someone as powerful as En doesn’t need to keep his offers a secret; everyone was welcome to try for the food truck spot in his estate. Asuka called in a few favors, broke into her savings for a couple days’ worth of frozen apple pies and, if everything went as planned, she wouldn’t have to worry about what she’d do to keep the job. This time, Tanba would have no choice but to come crawling back to her! The other two parasites were collateral damage. Though necessary if she was to have time to enjoy her victory.

The courage needed to poison En himself wasn’t enough to make him value her resolve- or what she caught Tanba calling stupidity as she fled. Her fridge back home was empty, all her money fit in her shirt’s pocket and… he was the only person she’d ever admit defeat in front of. But he wasn’t even there.

(He wouldn’t let her back in, he said it himself before he closed the door on her face. If all she wanted was a second chance to taste his warm dinners after a busy day… What else could she have done?)

For that, the rain was a gift. The best chance she had at putting him, maybe all of them, in her debt. That’d get her her spot back in no time. Hard to say no to the person who saved their lives, right? Moving hurt a little but with Angel’s help, even her hazy thoughts could picture it.

It wasn’t enough. She failed and Kirion could’ve left her to drown but he didn’t. The house was cold, the ceiling leaked, and her awful apartment was forgotten.

Naturally; Tanba was there. Away but close enough to hear him. Angel’s body is as much hers as her own and she had wrapped it around him. She couldn’t care less if the rain took them all out, it would’ve just made it all more romantic.

It was Tanba , too tired to push her away and too cold to complain about her embrace, and not Kirion, who dragged her away with a rolled up newspaper but spoon fed her the soup he made- nowhere near the top of Asuka’s favorite dishes. Shocker - without forcing her to pull herself upright or her own arms out of Angel’s body.

It was him. Obviously. That bitch was being condescending .

That’s his whole deal. Or he wouldn’t have offered to stop the rain like it was his job. What did he even plan on doing, huh? Did he think there was some plug he could put back in and then everyone would treat him as a hero?

Whatever he was trying to prove, Asuka hoped he died trying. It wouldn’t hurt, they would all die anyway. He was just taking his annoying presence away from their last moments. She guessed she could’ve thanked him for that, if his reasons weren’t so selfish .

And, when the last drops hit the buckets scattered around the house- overflown since before she came in, because of course Kirion couldn’t even do that right-, all at once, and the light cut all the way through the clouds into their eyes, a different kind of headache, any nice words she could hazily offer him went out the window. Did they really think it was Kirion’s doing? What did that idiot do to earn such trust, huh? Their bodies stopped aching for a solid minute and they were already up putting on their coats to go find him.

What, was she supposed to stay behind on her own for who knows how long? No.

Tanba cut her before she was done with her very first complaint. Seniority won’t cut it after your little stunt, he sighed, but you can start trying to earn your place again. You know that means you gotta be up for after hours.

Did he think she wouldn’t notice his elaborate way of saying he didn’t trust her? That it’d make her want to help them look for Kirion , of all people? Fukuyama handed her her jacket and, well… it wasn’t like she could hope for much else.

Someday they- he would be sorry.

Besides, Kirion was probably dead, all she had to do was pretend that she cared about finding him.

The first day, the few hours they had before it got dark, she came back with a satisfied smile and a few choice words. Tanba didn’t react to any of them. Trying again got her Fukuyama silently leaving the table, what might as well have been an invitation to sit down.

“I wondered why you stayed out later than us,” Tanba said, laying his weight on the backrest. “I should’ve guessed you were just killing time somewhere else.”

“Excuse me? I did try looking for him!”

Not very closely- but could anyone really miss a whole person with a quick look here and there? Sure, she hoped he was dead but that just meant looking for him wasn’t that much of a bother!

The chair scraped the floor under Tanba’s weight, the single, abandoned bucket on the table spilled some of its contents down its side, droplets following his footsteps. That place; peeled wallpaper, soaked floorboards, wasn’t so different from her apartment a train station away.

None of them paid her any mind when she crawled back into her makeshift bed for the night. Other people’s mourning is annoying- but it goes away. An opportunity to make her way into Tanba’s heart, too!

What was Kirion even good for? Asuka would’ve barely noticed he was missing if the rest of them didn’t make it her problem. Always in some corner doing his own thing, running errands or fixing something outside the house. She didn’t hear him talk until days before!

The next day, Tanba dragged her to the edge of town to help him flip corpses until her arms gave out. What a way to admit she was right all along. She would’ve called it progress if he didn’t make it a point to remind her it was his kid they were looking for while he threw her in by the back of her shirt. Duh, she already knew that. Didn’t make Kirion any more bearable.

… It should have, but it doesn’t .

Tanba’s watch beeped six o’clock and as if summoned, Fukuyama’s voice started calling both their names, louder and louder as he made his way around the corpses.

Panting, his hands landing on his bent knees were louder than his voice. “I- Kirion,” he said. “I found him. I found Kirion!”

Up, he held a smile.

Terrible news. The worst.

Or, well, it seemed like it then. Especially when he made them walk halfway into the woods with nothing but a faulty flashlight he pulled out of his pocket.

After what felt like hours of walking on branches and mud- no small fit with her heels, long broken down but not made for, fucking missing person searching-, they finally arrived. Sure enough, Kirion was there, barely keeping his body upright against a flimsy log.

Hitting him over the head, Tanba asked Fukuyama why the hell he’d choose to make that damn walk twice instead of bringing Kirion to them. Apparently they were already halfway from where he’d found him, and Kirion was the one to suggest he’d make it easier by bringing someone else.

Asuka didn’t help them. They didn’t need her to, anyway.

Too busy drowning in questions like he’d answer any, her jab at how lucky Kirion had to be to get found in the middle of nowhere before dying went unnoticed.

That night, the lights started working again.

Asuka barely caught a glimpse of Kirion inside the house before he was taken to his room in the hopes he’d recover. His presence though, as much as she hated to admit… was there. In the loud chatter past the door she stood besides to drown out, and the kitchen where Fukuyama washed the pans Tanba needed to make him dinner. If she really unfocused, they could be talking about an entirely different thing she had no interest in, and dinner was burning hot.

Nothing like the day before.

Kirion was alive, but too busted to get in the way; she had all the perks of him being gone without all the moping . She could toast to that.

… Until they had to go and make her aware of his presence. That he ‘needed everyone’s help to recover’ and that included her whether she liked it or not, or something. Ugh, why would she care that he ‘did the same’ for her? Not like she asked him to. If Tanba and Fukuyama wanted to repay him for it that was their problem. Asuka had no issue walking past his open door. With or without him there.

She wouldn’t be surprised if Kirion himself asked them to send her over every time he needed something. What, was he expecting her to give up on her second chance just because he can’t stand not getting in her way? He’d have to try harder.

Food, water, blankets and rags. All that she brought with not a single thank you to show for it.

Then, when she had finally perfected the art of getting in and out in less than three seconds, cramming the perfect eyeroll in such a short time, Tanba sat her down at the table and held out a hand for her to throw her hard-earned money down the drain? Did Kirion really need upper tier healing smoke?

Not like she got a say in the matter.

It didn’t even work. He still got to laze around for weeks after until Tanba said he looked healthy enough to come back. And of course he did. Where else was someone like him going to find people who’d keep his little secret, huh?

No one but Fukuyama would be dumb enough to fall for Tanba’s insistence that there was a chance Kirion would leave. That would’ve meant that luck was on Asuka’s side for once. She was ready.

Kirion was back and he didn’t bat an eye at how comfortable Asuka had gotten, didn’t follow Tanba outside to ask why he had let her back in after what she- after firing her. She checked.

Ah, whatever, wouldn’t it had been too late to ask after he didn’t kick her out when he had the chance? He could’ve gotten rid of her and he didn’t. He better not think that’d get him compassion points; she would’ve done it, if she’d had the chance.

(Hearing the same thing twice would drive her insane.

Once, with that voice that told her to go out in the rain, make things right, if it was the last she would do. Twice, with one she can’t clearly hear.

Why would they- why would Tanba let her back in after- firing her. Kicking a box with her things and saying he didn’t want to see her again. Why would they take in another problem when the whole world was ending?

Aren’t people supposed to learn to look after themselves then? Has anyone who goes back on their word ever not looked weak ?

In the back of the far left cabinet, stained and full of cobwebs, was that coffee mug she’d forgotten. And- she was allergic to dust.)

“Calling it a horrible year just doesn’t cut it,” after so long, forgetting how hard the bartenders are going for a piss aftertaste is the damn cherry on top. “I mean- ugh!”

Assholes up and leave all the time- no one really comes to Anten to listen to other people. Unless they’re nosy-, but if they sat through the longest part already they could’ve at least let her finish!

That, or having to sip the obligatory drink until someone else is free. It’s not easy to spot someone who’s not already talking in this darkness!

The music quiets down in what would be a break while the DJ fumbles around looking for better ways to ruin the ambience. Would be.

“She has poisoned all our morning batches at least once every week since she came back and blamed it on me. It would make more sense if I was the one who hated her,” as fuzzy as it is when Asuka tries to remember it, that voice… “But I don’t, and-”

Complaining about her behind her back? ‘Poison’? Oh, of course he’d do his damndest to paint her in the worst light for complete strangers.

He’s in the next table over, like he was dying for her to hear. That bitch. Is there one place where he isn’t there to annoy her?

“ Kirion. ”

Maybe she imagines the way his head turns. But oh, does she enjoy it.

Cross contamination is no joking matter. All things have a time and place. Anyone careless enough to ignore that has no place in the kitchen. No kitchen, but absolutely not Tanba’s. He taught him this when he was too young to watch the oven alone. Kirion hasn’t forgotten it since.

Cross contamination can kill people. A worst case scenario is sometimes the best teaching method. Scary enough to burn the number of their chicken shelf behind his eyes. Unlikely enough that all he got were a couple days of fever for snacking on raw bean sprouts.

Rules exist to keep inconveniences away. Some, greeting customers with a smile so they’ll want to come back (it’s the food they should be coming for) Kirion doesn’t understand. Others, asking the people who call their landline what he can do for them instead of waiting for them to speak first (if they’re already looking for something, why can’t they cut to the chase), he can accept. The rest, he’s content abiding to.

Knives sharp side down, movie night on Thursdays, restocking meat first, produce second, letting dough set overnight, errands with Fukuyama on Saturdays, always at the same time. It keeps things simple.

It makes it easier to know when something is wrong. That irregularities are for good reason. That everyone else understands it the same way he does.

Contaminated food cost them a few good customers once. When Kirion was about to graduate to unsupervised cooking. It put him back way behind. Left a sore spot on the back of his head for a week. Tanba sighed, sat him down at the table and told him he was better than rookie mistakes. That he knew he had it in him.

Raw meat goes in the lowest shelf, utensils and hands get washed between tasks. Different utensils can prevent most issues.

Which is to say, Kirion recognized Asuka’s voice the first time he heard it at Anten.

Out of all the places close to the restaurant that he thought Asuka could go to when she left at night, Anten was the one he never stopped to consider. She never kept to herself when Fukuyama pointed out how many drunks piled demanding food on their doorstep first thing in the morning. Everything about how they were exactly the kind of people who enjoy patting each other in the back in the dark. Looking at Kirion as she did.

She wouldn’t have been so vague if she knew.

Kirion didn’t go looking for her. All the petty complaints she had to offer, he had heard them before. In broad daylight. Her sharp elbows stabbing his side, her face turned away. Not being able to see it made it easier not to roll his eyes. Or, years of being around her have desensitized him. Out of habit, he reached out to the table beside them, looking for a broom or rag to give her so she’d stay put somewhere else.

Her complaints were petty, nothing he hadn’t heard before (nothing he wanted to hear from anyone about his dad), but he didn’t leave. A spring stabbed the back of his legs, his outline could have given him away. She didn’t notice. Too busy talking out of her ass to. Kirion had never spoken to her, either.

He stopped worrying about it by the fourth time they ended up together. Concluded leaving would bring more attention to him than simply listening.

Fortunately, she didn’t care about what he had to say.

Lovesick stories wore out quick around the girl who saved up for a magic implant and woke up with smoke coming from her nose and burning her face. The guy who got experimented on so badly he brought his own glass to drink from. Kirion still followed Asuka’s silhouette to the seat closest to his.

“… I think my magic is useless,” she said one day, cutting her own monologue, slamming Kirion back to her. His lukewarm drink. “But I can’t even hate it for it.”

It’s confusing , she said.

Anten stinks of piss, alcohol and vomit. From the get go. Kirion could smell her drunk breath through it.

Asuka’s magic is like nothing he’s ever seen. Hard to think of different ways to use it when it’s so straightforward. She enjoyed it, it seemed. Sure had her fun dragging Tanba around pretending they were in love. Trying to get customers to come back just to see her. Simple.

Kirion never understood why Angel had a physical form. Or what he could do. Aside from making men fall for Asuka. She never seemed confused by that. Always bragging about how well she knows her magic.

Confusing. That’s what she called it. Useless.

“But he’s… always been there for me, I can’t hate it,” for the first time, Kirion listened. Closely. “Can’t feel alone with something like him in the corner of your room, hah.”

Then, as he opened his mouth. Cautious. Slow: “But I’ll have you know it’s not like I talk to it. That’d be like talking to myself and I have no need for that.”

A white outline shone close to her face. She gulped down whatever her glass had left. Stood up on shaky heels.

“And quit looking at me like that! Isn’t this crap what this place is for? Go be nosy somewhere else; I’m done.”

She had kept some leverage to pull him back to reality when he least expected it. People don’t change.

It was too dark for him to see her face. It should be the same from where she sat. A place like Anten is all blindspots. She couldn’t know how he was looking at her. Or she would’ve wasted no time busting both of them.

Things would’ve changed if she realized it was him. They would get worse.

Namecalling and her insistence on pretending she doesn’t know where his cups are when it’s not the first time she’s thrown them away are no pressing matters. Not when she came all the way down from poorly disguised murder attempts. Things would get worse between them. They’ve never been good. Kirion didn’t have the patience to be nice after Asuka’s first month of work. Keeping the peace is hard enough.

He could hate her. Instead-

Instead, the scattered words (useless. Confusing. Alone), left him moving out of her way. Leaving the room when she starts complaining instead of pushing past her. Staring but not rolling his eyes. Unless she deserves it.

It wasn’t the shock of- knowing she had other problems besides being after his dad.

Having heard her voice then, higher, more spiteful, Kirion started hearing it with a face to go with it. That’s what it seemed, at least.

Every so often, something would bother her. Little more than an inconvenience she’d spend the entire day fixated on. And she’d talk like that. Kirion was never good at figuring out those kinds of things. The rules, however, he learned from Tanba.

How it was hard. To notice, recognize. How it was a way for him to keep words to the minimum.

He has learned. With Tanba, Fukuyama. Not with her.

Asuka, he’s never been able to figure out.

So, stuck trying. Stuck on a childish wish for them to get along. Sparked by sharp elbows digging on his side, arms crossed high- before she first opened her mouth. Kirion kept listening.

Asuka is easy to hate. The house after Tanba finally fired her was comfortably quiet. Business ran smoothly. She deserved it.

Asuka hates Kirion. Kirion doesn’t hate her back. No one does. Strangely.

Rehiring her would have been a tougher decision if they did. She has to know that.

Doesn’t make a difference.

There are many ways to show gratitude when words are bothersome. Bowing, Nodding. Whatever his heart believed was right, Tanba said. All Kirion did before that was purse his lips, turn around.

Fukuyama smiles big and says it from his chest. Tanba’s hand collides with the other person’s back. Kirion nods, pays it all back if he can. Asuka…

Asuka dents their good pans cramming them into the wrong cabinet, puts off her part of the cleaning until the old couches sprout mushrooms under the cushions.

While Kirion was bedbound, he could hear her stomp on the wrong side of the stairs. She used to throw the door so hard it would bounce back before she could enter the room. The water she brought him was lukewarm. What made it into his mouth tasted of copper-lining. She’d drop it from high up as she spat a mocking good night , near the edge of the nightstand. The closing door made its contents slush around longer. No light came from under the door.

On his first day back to work, she barged into the kitchen from the other room. Pushed Kirion’s cutting board with her own, gloating about how they couldn’t expect to finish all the prep after starting so late. Not without her. Five minutes in, she pushed again. Harder.

“Do you always have to be in my way?” she groaned. Her tomato slices were uneven.

Later, Kirion reached for the rolling pin in the drawer by the oven. Found it full of metal spoons and spatulas, instead.

Fukuyama looked up. “Oh, we moved th-”

“Ugh, don’t you even know where the rolling pins are?” she’s always faster. As long as it’s not needed. “We gotta retrain you now but somehow you’re not dead weight? Yeah, right,” at the opposite end of the kitchen, she pulled open the right drawer. Threw their oldest rolling pin on the counter for it to reach Kirion on its own. “What are you looking at? Get to work!”

At least she’s doing her job now. Not pretending she can’t work a mincer so Tanba walks her through it again. She wouldn’t listen to anyone else. Didn’t like him switching his attention to Kirion, either. For whatever reason. Making sense of her wasn’t on his list of priorities.

The rain turned their ceiling and floorboards into spaghetti strainers. Drowned their breaker box and half the lights with it. Made their neighborhood a wasteland. But there were two things. Two things Kirion never thought would happen.

Exposing his humanity. Willingly, for his family. Leaving them to figure it out as the last thing he thought he would do. It wouldn’t matter then;

Asuka coming back. Dragging her to bed himself. Rolling her body to the side so she wouldn’t choke on dirty water. Tanba kicked her out. Days without her were pleasant. Yet he had long gotten used to her presence.

The rain changed many things for the worst. Asuka, it couldn’t have. It didn’t need to. Kirion made up his mind about her years ago.

Avoid her. Watch her mouth move and don’t hear a sound.

Lend a hand when needed. She will swat it away. Annoying doesn’t hurt- after finding her at Anten.

Two nights ago, she called his name. Growled it. Her shadow towering over him from the void. Like the last part of a chain reaction locking into place. The reason Kirion was able to stand her killer eyes and the knock of her teeth grinding together. Out. She won’t see it that way, he knows that much. She can’t speak on lesser evils.

Their walk back home was silent.

This morning, she called their pie lineout disgusting and stormed out through the front door a minute after throwing open her room’s.

“Ah, not a very good day for her, it seems…” Fukuyama mumbled, sheepish. Lower than the closing oven door.

“Always something with her,” shaking his head, Tanba sighed. “Bah, let her get lost. At least she’s not souring our day.”

With Fukuyama on cleanup duty for the night, Tanba follows him upstairs into his room. Settles on the lone, battered couch at the end of the bed. Kirion knows what it means.

Clarity and consistency. Every single day since Kirion came to him, Tanba has worked on those two things, he said. Years ago. Consistent doesn’t have to mean daily. It just has to mean recognizable.

Kirion looks at him ( “so?” ).

“You wanna know why I let her stay,” he says, getting comfortable. He should be. No one else sits on that chair. Kirion makes do with the edge of the bed.

The front door slams open. Then closed. Her voice makes do to fill the space between. After. Travels through the pipes right into their ears. He has no idea what she’s saying but Fukuyama is in the middle of it.

Kirion can choose not to hate her back. Tanba, who she spent her days harassing in a totally different way, always had the final say in where she ended up.

He chose here.

“I wouldn’t have sought her out if it was up to me, I did all I could. I was done with her,” he shrugs. “She’s selfish enough to have come for herself, but I think she’s sorry. Could be.”

The bed creaks under his shifting weight.

“People like her- they latch onto others with their claws out. They’re misguided. They think a simple grip isn’t enough to keep things from vanishing and, in the process, they tear those things apart themselves. Ya know the drill.”

So he thinks the same.

“Thought she might start acting like a person if I gave her a second chance and now we’re all stuck with her again. Hah, figures,” his hands fall past the armrests. “‘Least it’s us and not some poor bastard that’s got no idea how to deal with her.”

Kirion catches himself smiling. Lasts a full second before his wide eyes land on Tanba’s unfazed own.

“What? Me? I’ve had worse done. You think keeping Fukuyama here isn’t more of a liability?” he’s laughing. Genuine. Nothing like the way he does when everything is going wrong. “This whole housing deal is more than insurance that my employees aren’t lazing around. That’s family business for you.”

This restaurant is a four person job. And no other people cut it.

Down in the kitchen, something shatters. Kirion can hear the last shard hitting the ground.

Not a moment late, Tanba has stood up. Pushed the chair back where it scratches the wall.

“Fukuyama if you keep breaking the damn cups I’ll make sure the next thing that shatters is your skull!”

“I’m sorry!”

People don’t change. Kirion sleeps well that night.

Some people truly have no manners.

Badmouthing her behind her back? Eavesdropping? And- because let’s be honest, he had no business being there if not because he knew she’d be- stalking her? Not a surprise he’d walk away like nothing when she caught him. He sure knows how to talk when it benefits him, so she won’t be fooled with any ‘oh, he just prefers staying quiet’ bullshit Tanba’s thrown at her before.

His head did turn, but Asuka had a whole two seconds to enjoy it before he yanked her by the sleeve and put a finger across his mouth. Like she hadn’t heard his stupid voice a minute ago.

Duh, she knows what customers are supposed to do if they get recognized, but he didn’t have to be an asshole about it! They had no choice but to walk together anyway- which she put to good use. Nevermind the obnoxious possibility of being seen together-, though she wouldn’t have minded if he took the long way back, or got himself into messy business and was never heard from again.

She isn’t that lucky.

Was he waiting for her to bring it up? Caught red-handed. Repeat: she caught him red-handed . It was his duty to act knowing that. No way she was gonna speak first. Not without his apology, nuh-uh. Better for him to spill everything at once.

Couldn’t he even do that? No amount of questioning, or threats, or rocks kicked his way got him to so much as turn . At least she didn’t have to deal with a thin-skinned asshole, on top of everything else.

Does he think he can get away with knowing things about her? Just ‘cause he’s being all casual about it, pretending it never happened, saying nothing ? Shit no one around her was supposed to hear but especially not him .

Well, because it’s him , of course a week’s gone by without consequences.

It’s that why he’s always been so comfortable fucking her over, getting on her way ? Thinking he knows shit about her, that it makes her an easy target of his disrespect ? He better be ready, then. She’s about to care less than he does.

Anten is a stupid place. Total strangers talking about themselves to each other? No sorcerer worthy of respect would do it if they could see the people around them. But eternal life sure has to get boring if a bunch of devils decide to hang out inside every night, that false sense of security they give as their means to an end nothing to them. She’s heard late night and noon look the same in red eyes.

And she fell for it. Were a couple nights of pointless gossip worth Kirion getting leverage against her? No. She has to know how much he’s got.

What was she even there for? Surrounded with failures ?

Here’s to hoping Kirion hasn’t got the wrong idea nudged in some corner of his hollow brain.

Asuka couldn’t care less how he sees her; he’s at least a million times worse in her eyes! And with good reason. But he could pass those ideas up to Tanba; she doesn’t need any more of that. Not now, after she got the job back.

Only weak people get trampled over in this world. They’re not- well, she thought they weren’t weak, not in a death sentence way, save for Fukuyama, of course (another lucky idiot with no idea of how good he has it) but Kirion was at Anten. Not listening, but talking .

See, he’s the one who doesn’t fit here. That’s why he runs from her, isn’t it? He’s scared that someone else knows, that she knows. She, who’s always wanted to burn him to the ground.

And he’s going down.

Figuring out how, that’s what she needs to keep an eye on him for. That, and the apology she’s owed. A little extra that won’t help him.

He can talk, she knows that now; he can pretend he’s sorry. Because apparently, he’ll never talk to her if she doesn’t give him a good reason to.

After all, he’s hated her from day one.

Whatever.

“Uh, I can try with this again,” Fukuyama says. The way he speaks when his hands start to get all over each other.

But not this time. Since they’re too busy holding him up from the floor. Where Asuka finds him on all fours by the edge of the kitchen.

With the back of a soup ladle, he prods the gap between the fridge and the counter. The clanking gets on Asuka’s nerves. Quickly.

“… Sorry, the gap is too narrow,” with a defeated bow of his head, he turns to Kirion, crouched by his side. Holding a stick of his own. “I’m not sure we can get to them without moving the fridge.”

She didn’t make a point to stay in their field of view. It was the closest available seat. Of course Fukuyama wouldn’t understand that.

“Ah, Asuka-san, do you know where the-?” he tries to ask something. That friendly smile he’s got his teeth knocked out for in full display. Kirion isn’t looking. Asuka doesn’t have time for this.

“Don’t know what gave you the idea that I’m sitting here to help you, or your morale,” at the very start, she remembers him being shaken at her voice. Today, he’s already halfway up. Can he tell this is for his own good? “I’m waiting till you move so I can get to the cold water.”

The walls are thin; they have to have heard her.

It’s curiosity. What pulls her up from her chair as soon as their steps fade away. What was Kirion so stupid to lose in the gap? Shouldn’t he know about the right way to grip things? Asuka has to know.

To hold it against him. The only reason Asuka would care about whatever Kirion’s up to.

Her hands don’t fit in the gap.

But she knows something that does.

Only after she’s gone through the trouble of putting Angel out does she realize how much of a waste of time and smoke this all is.

He’s got the claws, no bones to stop the small space from using them to pull out the first hard object he finds. She might as well go all the way before they come back. Won’t matter if she puts it back before anyone notices.

Not one second in, Angel finds something. Seriously? It wasn’t even at the very back and they couldn’t pull it out? She knows exactly where it’s going when she’s done with it.

It’s Kirion’s house keys. Whatever he was doing for them to end up so far from the rack. Beaten and bent, she could still keep them until Tanba gives her old ones back. Not such a pointless effort after all. Unlike the one Fukuyama and him are about to make.

… Though, they’re fifteen minutes away from opening, and they’re getting held up over some keys? Shouldn’t they know about priorities? Ugh, guess it’s up to her.

For the good of the restaurant and nothing else, Asuka flings the keys at the cabinet under the key rack. With a little luck, it’ll make Kirion look like an idiot either way.

“See you’re done,” her shoulders jump at the deep voice behind her… Tanba saw. He saw it. “Let’s talk. It wasn’t a question, come on.”

The supply room past the stairs has gotten bigger over the years, more organized. These days, it can fit all four of them comfortably if they need to, a good deal of space between them.

Today, it’s just Tanba, her, and the door he closes behind him.

So unprofessional, she thinks for a split second. The thought bounces around in her mind and finds no place that will have it. What would’ve come out of her mouth as fast as her hands moved before, she finds she doesn’t want to say, now.

Her hands rest comfortable by the brooms and mops and dusters, by herself. Have done so for a while. To give up on something- on who she wanted so badly, and not be able to remember when . Asuka doesn’t want to know.

Not when the answer is as simple as realizing there’s- there’s more handsome men out there. People who’d kill to be with her without the need for her magic to intervene. It’s his loss. She won’t let it get in the way of her job and livelihood again, she’s smarter than that.

“ Asuka ,” Tanba spells, his teeth clenching at every syllable. A long time since she heard her name any other way. “What do you think you’re doing? D’you think I let you back in for you to waste every day giving Kirion trouble?”

Of course that’s what he’s here for.

“Well, just ‘cause I could’ve helped them doesn’t mean I have to fix all their stupid mistakes now,” she scoffs. “And I’ll reconsider next time before even lifting a finger in their direction. Bet you’ll love your incompetent employees then.”

“So that’s what you wanna talk about,” his back hits the door, both arms in front of his chest. “Then let’s talk about how many times Fukuyama and Kirion helped you when you burned all the batches you were in charge of. That sound good for ya?”

“It’s their job to help. It’s work stuff.”

“They could’ve said it was your problem. You sure didn’t do shit to earn their backup.”

“I don’t remember asking for th-”

“What about that time Kirion spent all day fixing up the water heater, hm?” no one likes cold showers in winter. He did it for himself. Asuka can only open her mouth before Tanba continues: “‘Cos I remember you were the only one giving us shit about it.”

He did it to shut her up, obviously. If it had been him, Asuka would’ve left him to grumble all day, or for as long as it took him to get over it. But that’s not the kind of person he is. Always doing shit no one’s asking of him so he can play hero and hold it against them at the same time. Idiots may feel in his debt, but not her.

Arms crossed, back against a box full of cleaning products that slush against her weight, she keeps quiet anyway.

… Before, Asuka felt the silence between them like affinity. Like maybe someday, he’d realize what was in front of him. Would stare into his eyes no matter how many times he avoided hers.

Even then, she was well aware of how she was using her magic. That he’d do anything to keep her from doing it again until he didn’t have to. Until his body was so used to her smoke that it couldn’t do anything. Before she knew it, then, she was out the door.

Tanba is smart. Smart enough to know she wouldn’t give up, at least.

But, she still wanted him then. More than anything.

When did his silence get so uncomfortable ?

She enjoyed the rainy days as much as her sore body let her. Convinced it would be the end, in every way she could think of. When did the excitement of finding a fourth, damp bed, of slowly bringing back her things from across town to meet only fingers pointing where they should fit- the second chance, turn into scratched floor tiles and headache?

It’s not about the floor, or the stairs, the bed or the roof. It’s about this door, and the keys on the cabinet outside.

It’s the first time Tanba has met her alone, since he first pushed her aside- since she broke his trust. After the second time, he never asked about her movie choices when the credits rolled like he did with Fukuyama’s- even Kirion’s, like he’d ever get a reply. He didn’t bring two cups of tea to her room and ask how she was adjusting to the place again. Shit, he didn’t even raise his fist over her head when she made their meat pies too salty.

But it was fine, because, when she used her magic, she didn’t need him to.

And he hated every second of it.

Asuka does now, too.

There’s four beds, four plates, four calls to add things to their weekly shopping list; Never two. Two mugs, two baskets, two voices. Not for her.

Yet here he is, telling her to stop bothering Kirion . She wants to laugh. The way she only ever does at Anten.

“I am not messing with him. For that I’d have to be paying attention to him, and I couldn’t care less.”

He sighs. Loud and long through his sharp teeth like all the air in the room is trapped in his lungs.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re up to- and I don’t wanna know, but I know you, and it’s nothing good,” I know you, he says and Asuka feels pressure above her eyes. “Whatever the hell you do when you’re out of this room is up to you. But you’re gonna listen.”

“ Really? Since when do you care enough to give me advice, huh?” the heels of her boots dig upwards.

“You playin’ stupid now?” one, two, three steps. Fast and heavy. “Now you’re gonna act like I don’t ‘cos you didn’t get what you wanted?”

The last sentence lands on the top of her head along with a closed fist. Then again. And he’s back where he stood.

(That’s the thing. This is why.

Regulars at her old cashier job meant men who’d ogle and lean too close to the other side of the counter- side effects of her magic, she’d scoff at the end of the day. Taking the long way home through the market. She knew better by then, or she wouldn’t have picked out the place for the drunkard of its owner who never bothered keeping tabs on his inventory.

But- she found out the hard way, months after starting. A bag of rice disappearing, shaking down her bag, an apple or two, every other day. Until she caught a glimpse of the security room that old man wouldn’t let anyone in, and found all but one of the cameras were busted. 

Regulars knew when she’d slip away for a smoking break, and the assholes did everything in their power to bring her back out. All she did was side-eye what was in their baskets and do a bad job at a fake smile! Regulars would step on her toes when they found her cleaning the bottom shelves.

But not Tanba. She knew, from the moment she saw him, that he was different. Laughing from his stomach when she told him he picked the shittiest meat they carried and coming back with a jab about her taste buds. Answering all her petty questions about his purchases, not necessarily truthfully, but fun. Looking her in the eye. Learning her name. He was the smoking break that geezer wouldn’t let her take anymore. Every Saturday morning, she’d peer by the door and wait . Just to feel a little lucky .

When time came for the shop owner to sleep through her sneaking wine out to make some money on the side, it had all run out.

With the few nicks she had to support herself on one meal a day, she did all she knew how to. She waited for Saturday to arrive, hanging by the blind side of the door, foreign smoke going the wrong way down her throat.

He stopped. To ask something Asuka doesn’t remember, but she followed with a bump of her shoulder and an invitation to get away from that place. She can’t remember Tanba’s face after it, either.

It didn’t work like it was supposed to. He moved away to ask about her job, and shake his head every time Asuka tried to drive the topic away. When she finally admitted he wouldn’t see her there anymore, he pocketed his shopping list with a long, gruff sigh and showed her the way to his restaurant.

That meant it had worked, right?

The hard part was done, the biggest strike of luck she could get. Tanba looked her in the eyes, took her home; she had his attention. All she had left to do was keep it, shape it so she’d never have to leave again.

He looked at her like no other man did, that was enough. Her purpose, the chance she waited for so long, was making him fall for her back. He had to. Or he would’ve left her by the side of that store.

A house, warm food, and her name spoken in a caring voice. There was only one thing she could give in exchange. They both knew it; he had to.

So, why?

Why, when she did all the right things, used her magic just so he could see what he was missing out on, proved to him that there would never be someone else- why did he turn her back on her? What did she do so wrong that he wouldn’t love her?

Was he just pretending the whole time?

It was Kirion’s fault. Tanba cared about her, but he cared about him more . There’s always someone else , and this? It couldn’t have been the exception. The first time anyone stepped forward and held her shoulder instead of patting her in the back, and he had to have someone else? When he was the only one for Asuka?

Kirion is his kid. Tanba said it then, says it now, like it’s meant to shut her up, but it’s exactly why there hasn’t been a day where she didn’t wish he’d get randomly picked up by some thugs, whatever made it so she never had to hear from him again.

Parents don’t care like Tanba does. All they do is kick their kids out when their dates show up, and one day they don’t let them back in. It was long overdue before she even met them.

Asuka wasn’t good enough. So, she’d die trying to be.

Better yet, she wouldn’t have to, if she was all that was left.

If she’s ever been lucky, truly lucky, it has to be with her magic. Having men at her mercy could make all her dreams come true- all but the one that matters most.

That’s how she got a deal on an apartment she couldn’t afford. How she had a cab ready to pick her up from the shittiest part of town on a moment’s notice. How she didn’t have to break into her savings when she needed a drink.

Any of them would’ve given her what she needed. And yet, Tanba was all she wanted.

Because in the daze her smoke brought, he’d hold her, but his hands never wandered, and he’d never grip hard enough to break her wrists.

… Because he’d push her away once it wore out.

Asuka knew what she wanted then, before Kirion. But when she did, when she figured she could show him the fucking ropes and have a roof over her head by the end of it, she dug her nails hard into it.

And, with nothing to hold herself up in the fall, she started wishing she never did.

Everything she loves about Tanba exists in Kirion to haunt her. Another reason she wanted him gone a week after they met. Why she pulled herself as close to Tanba as she possibly could and looked anywhere but him .

Her magic attracts men and he was kind to her… It should be that simple .)

“You wanted Kirion to decode- whatever you’re trying to say, or get him to do, huh?” Tanba continues. Scoffing like it’s a bad joke. “Well, you’re gonna have to get your shit together and say it ‘cos it won’t fly any other way.”

“Excuse me? Why would I ever need anything from him?”

“Listen here,” his hand lands on the metal door. “You play saying the opposite of what you want all day for all I care about; you’re way easier to figure out than Kirion was at thirteen. But that’s wasted effort on him.”

Seriously ? Oh, so this was all a joke? Kirion’s way of saying he’s finally gonna talk? Well, she doesn’t care. He has a mouth, right? He better use it.

“Like I said -”

Faster than she closed them, the lock of the door pries open her eyes. And Tanba’s chuckle with it: “Hah, have fun with that.”

He’s out before any of her words. Pushes the light switch outside at the same time as the door closes. And her toes hurt only ‘cause she couldn’t see the iron box to her right!

Did she miss what the fuss’ about? What’s there to be sorry for?

Easy tasks are easy because there are ways to do them. Consistent, logical. Not because they’re simple.

Cooking, fixing. Schedules, communication. Easy tasks aren’t easy because someone else knows how to do them. Kirion learned most of them on his own effort. Understood the need for them. Early.

Words. Those aren’t easy. Aren’t as unavoidable as they’re made out to be, either. Talking is a corner he can take when he wants to. One he doesn’t know very well. That changes every time he takes it. But not one he’s afraid of.

Tanba said family makes things easier for each other. Easier means help. It means people who know what easy is, so that doing it together is faster. Efficient.

He told him once. He was never good at explaining himself. Until Kirion came and he made it his duty to help him settle. Always scoffing at people who couldn’t figure out what he meant when he did nothing to guide them. Thanked Kirion for it with a hard pat on the back.

That, it took time to understand. Why he would talk to him in full but give other people halves. Less. Tanba sighed, looked around. Said they understood just as clear. Fukuyama, naturally honest, calls the restaurant home. Holds no grudge against the heavy hands and mean words Tanba has explained only to Kirion. Only once. Kirion accepts this.

He’s thankful for their clarity. For the things it has taught him when it cloudies away from him. It’s the only reason he’s been able to not take Asuka at face value. She, is the farthest thing from easy.

But, she’s not quite as complicated as she wishes she’d be. Anten, and what she said there, are what anchors her. Right in the middle.

Kirion is no stranger to conflict. Not even the tricky kind.

Both are simpler to deal with when they’re up to him.

For a long time, it was feeling at home between sorcerers. People who would turn on him the moment they found out he wasn’t one of them.

Simpler doesn’t mean easy.

It wasn’t just this world, the restaurant. Every promise made to him vanishing over something they shouldn’t care about. Not by then. But something they were sure to do. It was Tanba.

The person who found him. Fed him. Asked no questions about his broken glasses or scabby neck. Or why he chose to step back out the next day. Who bid him good luck with a bag full of fresh pies he could’ve sold. Found him weeks later at the edge of the market and did the same all over again.

Kirion couldn’t trust that he’d be as kind if he knew what he was. And he couldn’t live with the doubt.

But he started waiting for him. Sitting around the front steps of the restaurant, in time.

Months went by while Tanba announced to no one that it was time to feed the stray cats before opening the door to Kirion.

One night, he found it had been unlocked all along.

Then, with a warm bowl of ramen the size of his head caged behind his arms, Kirion listened. Without looking up. As Tanba talked about the different eye doctors he had found while Kirion made up his mind. His words. That living with broken glasses couldn’t be much fun. About the new bed he got on sale. How he was already supporting two people by then so making it official wouldn’t change anything. That he never saw himself as the fatherly type but here he was, with his life turned around over some brat.

Only neglected kids get picked up by poachers. Parents know better than to let theirs out of sight. Kirion was too young to watch his own back for long. But that was also why he could escape them. No one to sit and cry for.

Sooner or later. Kirion couldn’t pretend he followed Tanba around as just his best bet at survival.

That day, when he finally called him dad. Out loud. And he laughed and said he wasn’t that old as he ruffled his hair, every part of him, painfully human , burned until there was nothing left.

Save, the blisters covering his entire body. Bearable, until they day they would burst.

Everything he said about care and unconditionality would prove a lie. One day. Kirion knew. It meant it would hurt worse.

Years, he spent building that resentment. Holding onto his words as both truth and lie. Digging his nails in his palms over it. Clenching his teeth until they chipped. Slamming doors shut at every mention of humans, no matter in what light. He had to delay it. As long as possible.

Years, he feared a simple question that would’ve told him what to expect- or, one that would bring up suspicion. He never asked. Instead, he hated his dad, Fukuyama, every sorcerer who was ever nice to him in the street. No one was kind enough to overlook. Not when it came to how they saw humans. How they’d see him.

The rain brought out the secret in the only way he failed to consider.

But it wasn’t it. The umbrellas he couldn’t keep himself from making, the help he couldn’t keep himself from providing. Not to them. It wasn’t any of it what made them suspicious. It should have been. It was enough.

It was himself. Leaving all the pieces to fall in place while he was gone. Because it wouldn’t matter if he never came back, but they didn’t see humans the way he had hated them all those years for.

The relief that brought more than a decade of pent-up tears to that small room where he couldn’t hide them. It was all he needed. All he secretly hoped for all his life. And it was true.

Fukuyama, he should’ve known. Always chasing the rats out instead of killing them. Tanba, he spent hours trying to think of ways he could use his magic on humans, to see how well he could picture him. Doubting him and everything he knew about him.

Asuka, he was sure. Her magic couldn’t hurt them directly but, knowing her, she could make them jump off a bridge just for fun.

As the sorcerer he was pretending to be, Kirion didn’t hate her. As a human, he knew he had to.

He could feel every vertebrae, every tendon in his neck, twisting, when she said she never had. The reason didn’t matter to Kirion, he was sure other sorcerers had better ones to go through with it. All that mattered was that she didn’t want to.

When he woke up back in his bed, Tanba said nothing would change unless he wanted it to. That the choice had always been his. Smiled big and proud when Kirion said he would stay. Fukuyama welcomed him back and sat by his bed that night to tell him all about the months he missed.

Asuka crossed her arms, told him to get lost, and nothing had changed.

With all that resentment gone, he could finally focus on the life he had built here. Trust that the foundations wouldn’t crash down on him. Fully.

It meant finding other things he wasn’t happy about. Smaller problems he couldn’t fit before.

From the moment Asuka first opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t need his help or favor as soon as Tanba turned around, Kirion knew she would be a pain in the ass.

The day Tanba caught her demanding he’d talk, blocking his way like annoyance would make it easier, he pulled her aside and visited Kirion’s room to ask him to please do his best to ignore her.

Kirion knew it already. He had been doing it all month. Knew it was the only way for them to coexist.

He didn’t want to do it. He still did- inconveniences become setbacks if given enough attention. But he didn’t want to.

Sharp elbows pointing down away from each other, vicious smiles. Crossed legs and the blunt heel she insisted on stabbing him with under the table.

As long as she treated him as an obstacle in the pointless path she chose, he didn’t care about it.

Now. She knows Kirion knows about her. Something she doesn’t want him to. It could be anything. Everything. He knew he didn’t have to listen. When he recognized her voice. Listening made letting her hostility slide easier. Kirion wanted to listen.

She doesn’t know this. Not for sure. But she isn’t far.

Years of trying to keep the peace down the drain. Whether he talks or not. It shouldn’t matter.

It does.

Patience doesn’t come to him much easier than to Tanba. Kirion just does a better job at holding back. Asuka wouldn’t still think she can get away using up all the space in the doorways he needs, otherwise. More than enough for him to be relegated to employee training. When they still did that.

Tanba goes over it first. Quick and done. Discussed around the table to make it official. Everyone sent on their way to prepare for the next morning. Pies are simple. That’s what he thinks. He liked seeing what new hires could do to save their own skin. Wasted time and ingredients, not as much. None of them lasted longer than a few weeks.

Asuka refused Kirion’s help when she arrived. Tanba took over, announced weeks later that the best thing they could do was leave her alone. Hope for the best. At least she’s trying, he said.

Fukuyama was a work in progress. For a long time. A fast hire. Because of his magic; a fast regret for the same reason. It should have made things easier but they can’t trust his pies. After watching how it works. He had to learn the classic way. He wasn’t very good at it.

A naive fifteen year old. Two years after Asuka started. She was against him from the start. Paraded her mediocre knowledge around. Like that would help any of them.

Kirion gave him every advice in the book. Not in detailed explanations but in work. Both of theirs. Soon, he knew every method, cooking time and placement. Every regular’s order.

He’s easily discouraged. Kirion had to be there when Asuka left the food half eaten when it was his turn to cook. She did the same to him. No one else was starving for the sake of being petty, he had to make Fukuyama understand it. Kirion could take it, he’d have to learn how to.

When he did, he was grateful. For the time Kirion spent shielding him so he could be ready. Completely. Those were his words. Not long before, he had started sighing when Asuka stepped on Kirion’s heels. It’s not like him to snap back, but everyone has their ways. A disappointed read of her name, an innocent, pushy favor, that’s his. Fukuyama likes clarity more than he does. That time, Kirion thought he would have understood, even if that wasn’t the case.

Unlike Tanba, Fukuyama doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence. Kirion is good with listening, or not. Focusing on what he’s doing, with its sound and motion, or not.

They drew a line by the middle of an old plastic table a couple years ago. Bought a handful of balls, some wooden rackets and a chalkboard to pass the time. Turned over the small book collection on the living room’s shelf and grew it, after. All the two of them.

Lately, they’ve taken on early morning walks. Once a week, or when they feel like it. Fukuyama is better at spotting small things in the dark than Kirion is in broad daylight. Fun shapes in broken glass, interesting stickers stuck on pipes, bird feathers. A silver ring, that one time. Most Kirion can do is pick up some loose nick from the sidewalk cracks. Help him hold everything else while he makes room for it in his pockets.

They go farther than usual, today. Which means less time to get back before it’s time to open shop. A shortcut through what used to be a clothing store sounds like a good idea.

It saves them at least seven minutes. Full of Fukuyama’s talk about how it’s probably better if they step a little lighter so they don’t end up crushing some rat under the fallen roof beams. It means he’s at least ten steps behind Kirion.

Seventeen, when he hears him scream.

Rats weren’t the real danger. It was Fukuyama getting spooked by their shrieking when something trampled their tails. So much he’d fall face first on a pile of old boxes because his foot is trapped in wood.

He’s laughing when Kirion gets to him. A good sign. Breathing out short, ashamed apologies.

Problems come after he has helped him stand back up.

The first step is confident. But the pain comes back to his face. The second, slower. It doesn’t seem to make a difference.

“I think I sprained my ankle,” he says, lost in the rubble beneath him.

Walking home with the extra weight over his shoulder is only a little more difficult.

The time their shortcut gave them is lost on their calculated steps. Tanba is already angry when they return.

“You had to go and do it, huh?” he tells Fukuyama once he’s thrown him at the nearest couch. Just as Kirion comes back from the bathroom with the first aid kit. “I don’t care if you come with a broken leg next time, I’m throwing you out the door!”

“Sorry, boss, but- ow! It’s too tight…”

“Hah, serves you right!” he tugs around the edges anyway. “Don’t think this show gets you out of running errands tomorrow. That’s no one person job and I don’t have time for it.”

Kirion looks for his eyes. To tell him Fukuyama might be stupid, but he still needs rest. And he can always do two trips to get what he ordered. A worsened sprain will only cause more problems later.

He gets them, as soon as Tanba is done with his ankle.

Kirion doesn’t have enough time to tell him any of it.

“Ugh, fine !” Asuka’s voice cuts through the oven’s timer going off. Both arms crossed tight before her chest, she looks right at it. Nowhere else. “Guess I’ll go with Kirion. Not like I have a choice .”

This time, Kirion looks at Tanba for an entirely different reason. Stopping on Fukuyama, right after. Blink once. Move. Find them doing the same.

“What? Now you don’t want me helping? ‘Cause I can take the offer off the table right now .”

She’s never been one for team work. Of any kind- unless, she thinks there’s something for her to gain. So they never ask.

This isn’t good.

Tanba clears his throat. Hands on his knees as his stands up. “Uh, alright.”

There’s something else. A detail so simple Kirion wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t missing. A hole in the wall, the mark frames leave when they’re taken off.

When they have been left with no other option but to ask for Asuka’s help, she always wants Tanba to say it. Ask it. No matter how annoyed. So she can make it worse and coo about how she will. Just for him.

She didn’t let him finish.

… Shit. Is that how badly she wants Kirion to talk?

A heatwave is the last thing she needs.

Seriously , this? There has to be some plot against her. Some devil who chose her years ago to focus their time and energy into making her miserable .

They couldn’t even let her sleep off her damn decision of tagging along with Kirion just so he’d finally tell her what he owes her. They had to go and make it so her bed is the last place she wants to be in. And not just that! Now they all have to sit on the same couch if they want to get at least one second of the only portable fan that still works. The piece of shit makes hot air. Hot . It’s not even worth it!

Nothing. Absolutely nothing is worth the entire side of her body pressing onto Kirion’s. As if it wasn’t gross enough.

She won’t even consider thanking him for having the decency of sitting up straight instead of using the backrest by her head. Because, knowing him , he’s probably got some selfish reason to do it.

Pretending he’s not there is hard enough without his elbow knocking on her arm.

“Um, sorry? ” she prompts, opening her eyes to stab them into him.

When she does, she finds them clear. Clearer than they ever look with the mask on the way. He’s placed it on the table in front of them now. And that is not an excuse for getting deeper into her personal space. But of course someone like him will never apologize.

Just five more minutes of this stupid warm air and she’ll be gone. It doesn’t make any damn difference. It might even make everything worse . They’re too stupid to notice.

And she couldn’t just leave when Fukuyama asked her. Not if the rest of them would stay. She’s not stupid, she considered this before. Told them, even! But they never listen. It’s getting pathetic .

From where she’s slumped against the thin fabric, with her hair thrown over, collecting by the wall, all she can look at- if she doesn’t want it to come down and stick to her neck- is Kirion’s face. Of course it is.

He’d glue that mask to his head if he could. Even wore it for the better part of his recovery after they hauled him back from the end of his hero act. It’s weird , that’s all. Hell, it was months before Asuka caught more than a glimpse of it when she started working here.

And with his glasses? No way that’s comfortable.

Not that she cares. About him, or his comfort. Actually, she hopes it’s uncomfortable. The worst . Hopes that thing gets stuck one day and the only way to get it off is attached to his fucking head.

If there was anything else to focus on, she wouldn’t be stuck thinking about him .

Five minutes can’t go by fast enough.

There’s another thing. No one can tell when it’s zipped up but now he’s rolled down the upper part of his suit, tied it to his hips, and left that flashy scar out in the open like the attention whore he is. She went as far as to justify him before; Tanba and him aren’t the kind of people who invest in healing smoke unless they have no choice. But now ? After they made her throw in her own money so that bitch could stop his drama? He kept that thing to get pity. Simply no other way around it.

No one could want ugly, gruesomely healed rope burns like a damn necklace. Yet here he is.

Though, he’s a human. She hasn’t forgotten about it, oh no.

Of course he is one. Humans are pathetic , weak. Good for nothing but to improve sorcerers’ magic. It's fine if he wants to keep that thing, it’s a nice reminder of it. That he isn’t even worth her time.

Humans have a purpose, sure, if it can even be called that. But Asuka herself? She has no use for them. Why would she go through the trouble of making a door and walking in that shithole when it would cause her more problems than not? Making a human guy fall in love with her? Please . That would make her more pathetic than them.

If it happened on its own, by their own stupidity? It would be plain sad .

Kirion isn’t a guy, her magic would never work on him. If it happened to him, she would never let him live it down. What, was he into her hating him? She’d make sure he never got back the courage to breathe in the same room as her.

… What does Kirion have to do with any of this?

Ugh. This is what she gets for focusing on him, at all. One little misstep and that bitch is burying himself in places he has no right being in so he can ruin her days further .

She’s got plenty of problems already. Shit Kirion can’t even begin to imagine ! It was obvious before his little secret came to light and there’s no doubt about it now. Humans are so weak that it makes sense they don’t have to worry about making use of something they had no say in. It’d break their sorry backs. Now that Tanba took pity on him for a second time, Kirion can keep pretending to be one of them all he wants, but he’ll never get it.

What it’s like to hate his magic. The one thing that comes- should come naturally .

Angel is a part of her magic. She was able to summon him long before she figured out what her magic really does. Asuka doesn’t hate him . 

… How could she? He was the only one who’d sit quietly in the dark with her, who’d listen. Softer than the floor but firm enough to lay her weight. She didn’t care if that was all there was to him, then; if her magic was useless on principle. Naivety is a hell of a blindfold.

Of course there was more, there had to be. It was her . Maybe not born with her name on a seat at the very top, but still high enough to look down on those who deserve it. A good place to be.

For a long time, she made good use of her magic. Enjoyed a different kind of power. She soon grew to hate the same things she thought she loved. But what was the point of her magic, if all it did was build a knot in the pit of her stomach?

Asuka could never hate Angel, but she can hate her magic. And whatever part of her that decided to make her the same as those with magic so pointless it’s like they don’t have any at all.

It took her years to realize just what exactly made her fingertips numb, why she had grown to stand out of reach of the mess it made. Why Tanba wanting nothing to do with her meant she could stay down.

Now, after all of it, she can’t even be sure. Because her magic is still there and it will never leave. Because she doesn’t want Angel to leave but looking him in the eyes means she’s got to understand he couldn’t exist without her. Walking away from all the men that she made to worship the ground she walks on as soon as they did solved the problem, it had to. It kept the knot from growing but it didn’t help the sensation. She isn’t stupid enough to ask for more.

It’s fine. It’s her own magic. It means something . Whatever the problem is it could never be worse than empty smoke veins.

So why did Kirion have to come with arms that made lifting boxes look easy, enough patience to wait at the kitchen door for Asuka to wake up so he could walk her through yet another day of pie making- after she yelled at him the day before, and calm nods as she repainted the signs outside no matter what she was berating him for, and only walked away to offer her lemonade- why did he have to make it worse ?

All he’s done from the moment Asuka put a face to his name is ruin all the hard work learning to live with her magic took, and he thinks it’s fair ? Thinks he’s just some victim who never did anything wrong ?

Oh.

Oh, shit. Ugh .

Other people get to have their magic be a perfect peek inside their brains and she’s stuck with irony ?

This has to be a fucking joke. All of it. Tasteless.

They never quite got the last of the water out of the woodwork. Asuka hopes her heels pierce right through it. Every step to her room carved in this stupid living room.

The next morning, she wants him to burn even worse . Nothing he could’ve heard about her at Anten could ever make being stuck with him worth it . Not today .

She’s got no way of blaming this on anyone else but that won’t stop her from trying.

Because, did she really have a choice? There’s no one else who would’ve taken Fukuyama’s place on this. They all have to do what’s best for the restaurant; she’s helping . Selflessly . It’s not for the sake of blocking Kirion from running from her and the explanations he owes her. Like she’d ever choose to stay close to him for longer than it takes her to walk past.

Yesterday night was just some kind of- heatstroke delirium or something. And she’ll treat it as nothing else.

What else can it be, when Kirion elbows her in the side for the ninth time already and all she does is see red .

“You know it wouldn’t hurt if you used your mouth once ,” she tells him, a bag of raw chicken dripping on her arm before landing on the basket she’s holding.

Like nothing, he turns back around. Oh, but he heard her.

They’re in early but plenty of other people had the same idea. That means plenty of witnesses for just how obnoxious he is.

“Fine, don’t say anything,” Asuka scoffs, taking one sharp step away. “But you’re gonna listen ,” she doesn’t look through the corner of her eye to make sure he’s watching. “You think you can get away with snooping in my business? That you can pretend you just happened to be there? You’re the last person I want knowing shit about me and you knew it, so don’t go around thinking you’re better than me!” there it is, he left his spot by the rice sacks for her. “Is that why you don’t hate me? Bet it makes you feel so much better about yourself, but I don’t need your pity !”

In favor of grabbing both her shoulders like he’s got the right to, and looking down at her.

… It’s the first time he’s been this close. And she wants- she wants to push him away, step on his toes and throw the damn grocery basket at him. That’s it, that’s all. That’s what she wants. So badly that it’s the last thing she’d be able to do.

His eyes are there, behind the mask, desperately asking her to shut up in a way she barely understands. It’s the last thing she wants.

“What, you can’t stand being called out?” his brow falls in the way it does when he tries to talk for the first time in a while, his grip tightening around her arms. Asuka could laugh. “Make me.”

Somehow that’s enough to break him. Two words and she has him wide-eyed, pulling away like she’s made of fire. So much for his tough hero act.

But- she didn’t mean it like- she didn’t want him to- it doesn’t matter. It got him to chicken out and it doesn’t matter what she wants.

Why else would he not hate her? He’s pathetic . Humans are pathetic, and she would be even more so if his eyes on her made her feel anything at all.

… Why else would she want him to hate her but to drive herself away.

Somewhere down the line, the shopping list fell by the bag of raw chicken. Asuka can’t read Kirion’s shitty handwriting.

“Kirion,” but: “Are you blind? That’s not the kind of soup he asked for.”

The entire store can hear him sigh.

Those days of sleeping through breaking plates were short-lived. Kirion was six the first time he was woken up by distant footsteps.

Light sleep is useful for keeping an eye out for break-ins. These days. Not much else. The rats chirping outside are a thin wall away. He should’ve placed his bed at the other end of the room.

Tonight, though. Rats aren’t what wakes him up.

He’s learned to ignore the rumble of the heater in winter. The way it randomly stops and picks up minutes later. The chatter down the street. The creaking floorboards that lead to the bathroom.

Not his door flinging open like it’s three in the afternoon.

… Not since he recovered.

Still, he doesn’t move under the covers. Whatever Asuka needs, it can wait until morning. Neither of them can afford to be tired when there’s so much to do. She has to realize that.

It’s quiet. The way things only are when there’s someone looking.

“I know you’re awake.”

It would not be like her. If it went on for long.

Cats fight on the roof. A broom takes a late turn downstreet. Her impatience would echo, if she was wearing her heels.

Long enough for Kirion to start drifting back into sleep, she stays put. Patience he never knew she had. Quiet he only remembered from the times she wasn’t around. Her theatrical scoff was going to break it sooner or later.

She’s been acting weird lately. Which is saying something.

Staying out of people’s way is easy. A good way to avoid unnecessary trouble. Most will make it known they want nothing to do with anyone. Kirion learned how to before he was ten.

In their own way, everybody knows it. Asuka, too. He can tell. But she has her own way of doing it. If it can be called that.

She shoved him away from the moment she walked in. Not a day gone by without a reminder. Kirion didn’t see the point in building such animosity towards someone she would be stuck with. In holding it. When he did all he could to soothe it. Stepped aside, didn’t look. He didn’t care as much as she seemed to do. 

That’s the thing. She kept looking for him.

He could have shown her how weak her punches were. Not stand a single one of them again. But he could also let her be. As annoying as she is. Because her kicks and punches are so weak. Wouldn’t make a difference.

Even now. She hasn’t changed. Not at heart.

It’s a relief.

Whatever it is. He can’t think of a reason for her to open his door this late at night. Try to get him out of bed. Not one she would have had before. Or, one for her to hold down a smug smile. As she stared right into him; not the hands around her shoulders. What was that about?

… What is this all about?

Asuka is one to hold a grudge. But if this is about Anten, even she would consider it settled after what she did at the grocery store. She wouldn’t care for the real reasons. She would just want to overcomplicate things. Hope it messes up his day. And further.

Doing what she wants won’t solve this. Leaving bed is not worth the effort. She hasn’t changed, but she has gotten worse. Kirion knew it would happen. Not how.

Somehow. For some reason, she has also gotten better.

That. No matter how subtle. How natural it is for her to act the same. That is not a relief.

Of all the things she is. Irritating things. Asuka is not the kind of person who pretends for personal gain. She would, if she could keep an act together to save her life. Her eye twitches when customers she doesn’t like walk in. She closes her eyes too hard when Kirion is in the room. Leaves finger marks on her own arms. None of it has changed. But- there’s everything else that has.

What does she want tonight that can’t wait until the neighbors are up and customers turn close to their food?

What does she want, at all? Kirion has never been able to figure it out.

Yet he knows exactly why he wants to.

Reaching for his glasses, it’s the same for him. She will be happy to have it in her book of pointless victories.

Asuka isn’t right outside, like he thought. But there’s light coming from downstairs. Close enough.

“Look who decided to show up,” Asuka says once he steps by the counter opposite to her. Her voice and shoulders are raised when Kirion looks, falling little by little. Unlike her, Kirion doesn’t forget where to step to keep the house quiet. “ Least you can do is apologize for being late.”

Kirion stares. What is the point of all this?

“Ugh, fine , then,” she scoffs, switching her weight around. Taking her time curling her arms around each other. “We’re gonna have a drink. Right now. And I’m paying so be grateful ‘cause it won’t happen again.”

This time, he blinks. Once. Looking for anything in her tightly closed eyes that holds something close to an answer. When she finally opens them- slow, dubious- her lips twist just like her arms.

She doesn’t say a word. Not yet. Her back tracing the wall behind her, her frown pushing her eyes closed again.

The next thing that opens, rigid, are her lips. To give way to clenched teeth. Nothing else.

Soon, that’s gone too. “Whatever,” she bites down. Kicking her hair back as she walks right past him. Her arm hitting his on her way to the stairs. “Your loss.”

The light is still on. Kirion isn’t any good at Asuka’s game.

… Isn’t she afraid he might learn?