you adored me before - orphan_account (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

The sweat stuck to his brow, trailing down his tanned skin until it landed directly in his eye. He reached his hand up to his face and swiped at it, running it under water before returning to work. No matter what his work day threw at him, he was going to keep going. A cook shouted “Behind!”, before he felt them pass by him. He pressed himself against the counter before slicing down on the tomatoes in front of him, getting the acidic juice all over his hands.

Running a restaurant was something only someone with a love for the details could have done. Kojiro Nanjo studied abroad long enough, and worked for enough neurotic chefs, that by the age of twenty-six he had become a hellish amalgamation of absolutely everything he had hated about each of his mentors and coworkers. It’s exactly why he decided to open a little restaurant of his own, to teach his own team of chefs and waiters to be equally as awful as he is.

He still remembered the feeling of accomplishment that came with signing the very first contract with the landlord for his restaurant. It wasn’t long before he had full ownership over the space, after numerous failed arguments. Six years had passed since he opened it, and Joe’s Italia had become one of the most notorious restaurants in all of Japan. He had been offered many times to open alternate locations on other islands, or even in other countries all together. But Okinawa was his home island, with this town of his being the only thing he managed to keep pure from his childhood, everything else tainted with the hatred that had plagued his friend group before they all left. Kojiro never wanted to let this restaurant leave the island.

Kojiro plated the lasagna he was working on, adding the little garnish on top, and slammed his hand down on the tiny silver bell, which signaled a waiter to come over and grab the plate. Just like clockwork. He grabbed another order slip and began to prepare the ingredients.

“The man over at table twelve would like you to know that he gives you his compliments.” Miya, the child prodigy of everything, and one of the youngest staff members, shouted over the noise. Standing on his tiptoes, the boy peeked his head of dark hair over the counter to observe the kitchen.

“You do know that when someone gives me their compliments, you don’t need to tell me, right?” Kojiro responded, returning his focus to the dish before him. Although spaghetti with red sauce was not the most complex dish ever, he still needed to be focused on it.

“Yeah, but this guy seemed important. You might want to say hello.” Miya replied with a shrug, before grabbing another dish and rushing it to a table.

Kojiro sighed and turned his focus to the dining area. He didn’t want to seem as if he, the owner, was slacking off. But Miya was skilled at intriguing him. He looked up and scanned the floor for table twelve, his eyes trailing over the families and friends sitting at each table and enjoying dinner together. His eyes landed on table twelve, tucked away intimately in the corner, and every thought of work left his mind.

Miya was right, this man was important, just not to Kojiro. At least, not anymore. He had his long, pink hair tied out of his face, with strands coming loose here and there and falling in front of his pale skin. His face was at peace, with the emotional turmoil of his past long gone. His eyes were closed, as he took a delicate sip of his tea. Unlike the children and adults in casual wear, he wore a dark purple kimono. This was Sakurayashiki Kaoru, and he was back on Okinawa after eight years.

Kojiro had known who he was before the creation of “S”, the one thing that had managed to simultaneously breathe life into both of them, and destroy them. Kaoru became more than just the studious boy in his classes. He became someone who came off as cold, untouchable, immortal, under those lights. That identity set him free from his fears, but made him vulnerable and naive. He hadn’t realized how close he flew to the sun until his wax wings melted, and Kojiro was there to watch his fall from the sky. Since then, everything changed between them. Kaoru moved off island, cut off Kojiro, and refused to return.

Until now, where he sat in the restaurant that his childhood friend now owned.

Kojiro refused to let his gaze linger on his old friend for too long. He was head chef, and owner, of a world famous restaurant. He could not afford to get distracted during the dinner rush. Everything was in the past now, and the current Kaoru was different from the one Kojiro had been attached to. Despite their long-winded history together, Kojiro felt like he didn’t know Kaoru at all.

…

Sakurayashiki Kaoru didn’t originally plan on moving back home. He thought that he could leave everything behind after he turned eighteen, and that cutting off the people he once called friends would free him from any traumas he had gained. Believe him, there was plenty. He had thought that removing Kojiro specifically would have saved his mental state before college. Yet here he was again.

The warning signs should have shown up when he dropped out of Brown University to go to the Culinary Institute of America in California. He had known that Kojiro was going to major in culinary arts, and that he had been accepted into the same school, except in New York. At the time, he couldn’t put a finger on what motivated his change of schools, but being back in Okinawa opened his twenty six year old mind to the obvious. Kaoru had wanted to reconnect with Kojiro after a few years.

Kaoru had gone on to work with the top chefs in the world, but every restaurant at that level was too monotonous. The chefs were too rigid, the kitchens too uniform, and the portions too small. He wanted to do something innovative, something that would break him out of the high-class cycle he had unknowingly got himself into.

When he was twenty four, he quit his job, and took a trip back to America. This time, he went to Manhattan island, to feel a little anonymous for a while. That’s when he got the idea to open up a coffee shop of his own back home. They had plenty of chains in Japan, but Kaoru wanted to create something new and kitschy, to get at the artsy crowd of his country.

And then he saw the reviews of Joe’s Italia, and the interview with Kojiro, and everything screamed at him to abandon ship.

But the coffee shop plan had come together perfectly. It wasn’t long before Kaoru had secured space in the lovely city of Tokyo for his first location. Just like Joe’s, Cherry Blossom Coffee was an instant hit among the locals, specifically the teenage and college crowd. Unlike Kojiro, Kaoru decided to sign on for more locations, making his coffee shop a national chain. His latest business deal brought him back home to Okinawa, in a space that was, coincidentally, right across from Joe’s Italia.

Kaoru wished he could pin the idea of going out to dinner at his “rival” restaurant on someone else, like a roommate. But he lived in solitude, and the idea was solely his. Part of him wanted to catch a glimpse of Kojiro, just to ensure that he was doing well in adulthood. He was also starving, and could not survive off of microwaveable TV dinners for one more night.

The young boy taking his order was relatively friendly, and even brought over complementary bread and ice water. The service was excellent, the atmosphere was warm, everything felt so welcoming. Kaoru felt a stab of jealousy hit his heart, like a sharp knife. His coffee chain was going to need to step it up in every way, including the aesthetic appeal, if they wanted to last against Joe’s.

Everything would not have been a concern for him if the food was lackluster. Much to his dismay, that was not the case. Even though he just ordered a simple dish of tortellini with red sauce, the food managed to stun him to complete silence. He wanted to shake hands with the chef who made it, or the chef who taught them how to make it, because it was some of the best pasta that Kaoru had ever tasted, and he studied abroad for a semester in Italy.

When Miya, the waiter, returned, Kaoru asked him to send his compliments to the chef, and ordered another cup of tea. Miya happily obliged. He brought the tea first, then walked over to the large opening that looked into the kitchen. To Kaoru’s shock, the chef that looked up was none other than Nanjo Kojiro, who was covered in tomato juice, and had his forehead slicked with sweat.

Much to his surprise, Nanjo Kojiro did not change much. His green hair was still long, peeking out from under his white chef hat, and he was still as tall as he had been in high school. The only thing that somewhat changed was that Kojiro bulked up, his massive shoulders creating a boxy frame to his figure.

Kaoru returned his focus to the warm tea in front of him, and the desert menu. Knowing Kojiro, he would be looking around to see who gave him the compliments, so he could try and thank them. The second that his face would meet Kaoru’s would be the second that their past would come back to them.

One thing was apparent to him, he needed to step it up with Cherry Blossom’s Coffee. Otherwise, he would have his first failed location in the history of his chain. He couldn’t bear to lose, especially not to Kojiro.

…

The time finally came for Kojiro to close. The kitchen had already stopped cooking for the night, and the bar was winding down its serving of drinks. The few people who lingered were paying their last checks, and all the families had left a while ago to put their children to bed. Kojiro was cleaning his dishes in the sink, as the rest of the kitchen staff wrapped up what they were doing. They let him know before they clocked out, all in the same order. Like clockwork.

Kojiro made a habit of making a round to all of the people who were still there this late, checking in on them and how their food was. Usually, they were regulars. They all showed up at the same time on the same days, and would stay until closing. He wanted to make sure they all left safely, and that the tipsy ones had a designated driver. It wouldn’t be the first time that he would need to drive someone home. He hung his chef hat up on a peg on the wall, and walked out through the metal double doors.

There was one thing off about tonight.

Kaoru Sakurayashiki stayed until closing.

Kojiro felt his heart beat out of his chest, each thump more painful than the last. He shouldn’t be here, he should be back in Tokyo, or America, or wherever he had been for the past eight years instead of Okinawa. They promised each other in senior year to return to home after college and check in on each other; Kojiro had promised not to leave Kaoru behind, no matter what. But instead of staying close, Kaoru cut Kojiro out of his life, as if he wasn’t the only person that understood Kaoru best. As if the events of high school didn’t happen. So why, all of a sudden, is he back home? What was he doing, breaching the one place Kojiro had control over?

Kojiro walked right by to the crowd by the door, and pushed his anxiety aside. He blamed the antsy behavior, and the reddish hue that had taken over his cheeks, on the kitchen. He began checking in on each person. As always, they showered him with compliments for his food, and the service, and the restaurant. The older guests couldn’t thank him enough for transforming the small town, and the younger ones were equally as joyous to have a nice place to hang out on Friday nights. He wished them all a good night, and a safe trip home, before ushering them out the door and locking it behind him.

He sighed, feeling a shudder take over his whole body. His heart hadn’t calmed at all, as he stood facing the door and watching the last of his customers go. One remained, still sitting quaintly in the corner without a care in the world. “The restaurant is closed now.” Kojiro called.

He heard the sound of Kaoru’s kimono brushing against the leather of the seat. “I know. I wanted to talk with you.”

“Talk,” Kojiro let out a shaky laugh, his eyes widening, “with me? You understand that it’s been eight whole years, right?” He snapped his gaze over to Kaoru, who was leaning against the table. His golden eyes showed no expression of any emotion in them, just flat out indifference.

“Nanjo.”

“Do not call me that, Kaoru.”

There was a pause, before Kaoru took a deep sigh. “I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you show up? You’re home after eight years of no communication, and you aren’t here to fight with me? I don’t believe that for a second.” Kojiro spat.

“Can I explain, or are you not going to listen?”

Kojiro rested his head on the door. “No. I don’t want to hear it. We promised we’d always come back here, that we’d be here for each other. But you cut me off like I was insignificant to you.”

“Kojiro…”

“Leave Kaoru.”

“Kojiro.”

“I said, leave!” Kojiro shouted before he could stop himself. Kaoru winced, and his hands twitched towards his ears briefly.

Kaoru walked out of the restaurant, his head hung like a scolded child. Before he left, he turned back to Kojiro. “Who have you become?” He asked, more to himself than to Kojiro.

Kojiro chuckled, “It’s funny that you say that, Kaoru, because I should be asking you the exact same question.”

He shut the door between them, placing a barrier between himself and the man he once loved more than the sky and stars combined. He didn’t wait to watch as Kaoru walked away, out of fear that he would throw open the door and take his friend back into his arms, like they were teenagers again. Kojiro rushed back into the kitchen, frantically grabbed his belongings from his office, then locked each door before he left out the back. He started the ignition of his car, buckled himself in, and turned on the radio.

Leaning his forehead on the steering wheel, Kojiro finally felt the stress wash over him. He shuddered, gasping for air, and felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. Why did he need to show up and screw everything over now? Why couldn’t he have just stayed away? Kojiro thought as he cried slowly. He rolled the window down and felt the cool summer air fill his car, breathing deeply like he was told to do in this case. Everything he had worked to build, every order that he created for his kitchen, his restaurant, and his week came crashing down on his head with the presence of one man.

Kojiro finally pulled himself together, and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn’t look for Kaoru down any streets, and took the direct route home. Whatever Kaoru was here for, Kojiro did not want to be involved in. The anger he felt towards Kaoru had its time to fester in his heart, and seeing the pink-haired man show up to his one safe place caused Kojiro to explode like an active volcano. If he didn’t show up, if he didn’t stay until closing, then maybe Kojiro would be willing to reconnect with Kaoru.

He did this to me. Kojiro thought, as he gripped the steering wheel tightly with sweaty palms.He broke my trust, and our promise. He ruined my routine. He’s back home now, but I want nothing to do with him.

He knew that Kaoru would be making his rounds to the other people that they had been friends with before. And he knew that those people were much more forgiving of Kaoru. They’d probably invite him over for tea and biscuits, welcoming him in with open arms. And Kojiro would be okay with that, because they didn’t know him the way that Kojiro did. Tonight solidified a feeling that he felt for a long time when he thought of Kaoru.

He never wanted to see his face again.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Adrenaline.

That’s why Kyan Reki skated. He never got the same kind of thrill from anything else. The feeling of flying off of solid ground, and the friction in the pavement, and the cheering from the crowd, it all created the most beautiful rush that kept him coming back for more. The feeling of airiness in his veins and the breathlessness gave him a high each time. He chased that feeling everyday, like skating was a drug and he was an addict experiencing withdrawals.

Anyone who skated at “S” had the same opinion. For most, it’s not about winning the races and climbing the leaderboards. Skating united them all through a common addiction, one that drew them back in each time the thought of leaving. And that night was going to be more crowded than ever, mainly because of the rumors.

Some kids who were walking around earlier in the day spread the rumor that the one and only Cherry Blossom was back in town, after disappearing off the face of the Earth for almost ten years. People swore they saw him sitting in the Italian place that Joe owned. But everything was just hearsay; nobody had actual concrete proof of his presence back on the island.

Nevertheless, Reki had climbed out of his window at nine and skated quickly to the new kid’s house. Langa Hasegawa had only been on Okinawa for three weeks, after moving from the mountains of Canada to be closer to his mother’s hometown, and Reki had made it his mission to ensure that the boy was properly acquainted with his new surroundings.

Of course, part of that included teaching him how to skate, but Reki swore he had no ulterior motives in befriending the blue-haired boy.

Langa was waiting for him when he arrived at the apartment building, skateboard in hand. He was dressed in a simple hoodie and white shirt, over a pair of jeans. He appeared to be sweating.

“You do know what shorts are, right? And that people wear them in the summer?” Reki asked as he skated towards Langa.

Langa nodded, “I just haven’t got around to buying myself some.”

”Langa.”

”Reki.”

”You’ve been here for almost a month and you don’t own shorts?” Reki laughed, gently hitting his friend on the arm.

“Shut up! Where exactly are we going tonight?” Langa laughed as well, returning the punch.

“We’re going to have fun.”

“Fun isn’t a place, Reki.”

Reki laughed, watching as Langa placed his feet in the bindings that were attached to his board. It felt like yesterday, when Langa came to his house and they spent the whole day drawing up the plans for a snowboard skateboard hybrid. It took Reki three days to complete, three days of nonstop work for a boy he hardly knew. The feeling was new to Reki, this sort of friendship. He had never built a board for anyone but himself, and a boy who knows nothing about skateboarding has him doing something new. Reki laughed about it now and then, how quickly he abandoned any tradition or routine he had.

And it wansn’t like Langa was bad at skateboarding either, he was overwhelmingly talented. He had been a snowboarder since he was very young, and stunned people at “S” with an incredible race against the notorious, punk-rock skater, Shadow. Reki’s arm had been injured at the time, and Langa had volunteered to take his place. While the method of taping one’s feet to a board was certainly…unconventional, it allowed him to win on behalf of an injured Reki. Reki who was working with a true prodigy, teaching him the basics faster than he managed to teach himself. It was something he was proud of more than any board he had designed, or any race he had won.

“Langa, tonight I’ll take you to one of the most exciting parts of this sport. I swear, you’ve been there before.” Reki informed the boy, tugging on the elbow pads he was instructed to wear by his mother.

Langa kept a steady hand on the wall and glanced over at Reki with an unsure look in his eyes. “And what exactly might that be?”

“Tonight, we return to ‘S’.”

…

Langa Hasegawa felt uneasy from the second they turned off the paved road and onto the dirt. The rocks kicked themselves up under the spinning wheels, causing unfamiliar vibrations to begin within the wood of his board. In three weeks he had made progress, but not enough progress to be uneasy on unfamiliar terrain. Sure, he’d been to “S” before, but he was walking with two feet on solid ground then.

Reki led the way, but in the dark all that stood out was his fiery red hair. Langa copied his movements as they flew down the dirt path towards God knows where. Streetlights began to flicker on, later than usual, as they passed by. The lights set the boys more at ease. Langa got used to the feeling of flying across the rocks, and set himself into his usual rhythm.

Everything felt easier when he was skating, like it felt when he would snowboard in Canada. He understood everything Reki was talking about when he spoke with such fondness of the sport. It truly felt like flying, in every way, shape, and form.

They slowed to a stop when they approached a chain link fence, about ten feet high. A man, wearing a dark hoodie and low-brimmed hat, stood in front of the gate, checking the IDs of everyone who came in, and giving them the honorary badge that came with being a part of “S”. Langa grabbed his license, as did Reki, and picked their board up from the ground. The line moved quickly, as the motley crew of skaters filed in one by one to whatever lay beyond. Langa showed his ID, was handed a sticker, and ushered beyond. He waited for Reki to finish the friendly conversation with the bodyguard, and move on.

Reki finally waved goodbye and walked through the gate, where he met Langa with a smile. “Sorry. He knows my boss.”

“You’re very popular around here.” Langa responded, picking up his board and starting to walk. Reki followed suit.

“Eh, I’m just the delivery guy. I drop off the board orders here and there, and occasionally race or practice here. The ones you really want to know are the Big Three.”

“Who are they?”

Reki got a twinkle in his eye. A look of adoration took control of his features. “The Big Three are Cherry Blossom, Joe, and Adam. They are the founders of ‘S’, the ones who started it all.” He threw his arms out and spun around, and Langa finally realized that they had made it to the end.

“S”, or at least the start line of it, was crowded with people. Everyone knew each other, as people drifted from clump to clump and greeted the people there. Everyone was friendly enough to shake hands, some hugged, others were happily chatting amongst themselves. Any type of person could be found here. There were high school kids, and adults. Some were dressed in casual clothes, and others had their faces painted in elaborate makeup to match an equally elaborate costume. Langa caught sight of one in a fuzzy onesie of a popular children’s cartoon character, the red just a little deeper than Reki’s hair. Behind the two of them was a large board, with the lineups for the night’s races flashing up, and the overall leaderboard in the corner. When Langa was first here, his only thought was protecting Reki from being hurt. He hadn’t stopped to notice the splendor of it all.

“Cherry Blossom left for America almost a decade ago, hasn’t been seen since. Rumor has it he’s back on Okinawa, that he arrived yesterday, but nobody has actual proof. Joe opened a lovely Italian restaurant by the skate shop. He hung up his board after two years without Cherry, and hasn't returned since. And Adam…Adam maintains it all from behind the scenes.” Reki explained as he guided Langa around the start line, waving to the occasional friendly face.

“Cherry, Joe, and Adam. Okay, that makes enough sense.”

“All three of them popularized the trend of wearing costumes to race in. You remember Shadow’s makeup and costume?”

“The one that was a total rip off of that one 80’s band?”

“Yep, all permitted by the Big Three. They’re legendary here. Too bad they haven’t been seen in years.” Reki hopped up on a stone and patted next to him. Langa sat down, and the two watched as the racers took their places.

They both were decked out in outrageous costumes, with one wearing a bright pink wig, and matching shirt and skirt, and the other dressed in the same outfit, but in blue. They appeared to be siblings. Langa let his eyes drift over to where the lady made her way out to the countdown lights. She dragged the checkered flag on the dirt, as she let herself saunter out. Langa realized that it was to give the racers time to make small talk, or, in his case, outwardly threaten each other.

Silence overcame the crowd, as money flew swiftly between hands. The bright lights snapped on, as the countdown flashed red, red, red, and then green. The racers were off in the blink of an eye, as the crowd began to roar with excitement again. Langa felt the second-hand adrenaline take root in his system, and began to stand up on the rock. Reki grabbed his hand and pulled himself up to stand next to him, not letting go of Langa’s hand. Their voices joined the choir of encouragement that swelled around them and rose into the night.

Langa understood the addictive part of skating. He could tell why Reki talks of it like it was something created for the most daring people. It’s the rush of air past you face, and the crowd cheering you on, and the knowledge that here, anything goes. People are betting their life’s savings because they are confident in you and your chances, which can be slanted both for and against you i. one race. The audience knows your strengths and weaknesses and they show up anyways to watch how you fare against a new competitor. That rush in your ears and the pounding in your heart. It could be described by only one word.

Adrenaline.

That’s why Langa Hasegawa skates. Anyone at “S” would agree. It can come from racing in a for real race against someone just like himself, it can come from practicing on regular ground just to improve what he can do, and it can come from the crowd around him, where everyone who doesn’t want to race will feed off of each others energy like leeches.

It’s an addiction that’s formed itself in his brain. It will become unhealthy, distracting, and incredibly dangerous. But it hadn’t killed him by now. He certainly wasn’t going to quit it anytime soon.

…

Kaoru was absolutely not comfortable at “S”. Not while he looked like every other civilian who came to watch the matches. In his heyday, he would have dressed in the kimono he had sewn himself, the white one with the lavender flowers. He would have had his board, Carla, at his side, programming herself into whatever type he desired and heeding his every call. Kojiro, as Joe, would have been by his side. They would have captured every eye on the track with their presence.

But after everything that had just gone down with Kojiro. After the fight, and the fall, and everything that had taken place in the years before that, Kaoru couldn’t bring himself to dig the garment out of his closet. He craved the anonymity of a city; wearing a hat pulled low over his head, and an old hoodie from his high school’s Math Team was giving him the same protection as the towering buildings of Manhattan, or Tokyo.

They were in the middle of a race when he arrived, and he kept to the back by the scoreboard. If he wasn’t noticeable by his kimonos, he would be noticed by the pink hair that was an untamed knot under the hat. He didn’t much care for the race itself, as much as he cared to see how much Adam had run “S” into the ground over the decade they had spent apart.

Sure enough, people were betting money on races. Everyone was filled with an animalistic sense of greed about them, and weren’t there to watch and appreciate the skill that came with the sport. The tradition of wearing costumes was, thankfully, still alive. However, as he looked around, there was no distinct character among all of these. The alias of Cherry had allowed him to be free to break out of the barriers he shut himself in, and the costume gave him the same sort of freedom. He wasn’t at risk of being made fun of if the crowd didn’t know who they were truly speaking to.

He fished around in his pocket for the black mask that covered up the bottom half of his face. He hooked either end around his ears, and began to make his way around the edge to the front of the crowd, to try and get a better look at the scoreboard.

Adam opted for a style of scoring similar to the Premier League, the notorious English football league that many Americans and international fans kept up with. Three points for a win, one to each racer for a draw, and no points for a loss. Kaoru scoffed. He and Kojiro had fought with their old friend to keep the races unscored, but the second they are off the shores of Japan and all their hard work goes out the window.

Kaoru allowed himself to listen to the noise of the crowd. There were chants of encouragement to each racer, but mixed in at an equally loud volume were jeers and hateful words. People would cuss angrily at the live feed whenever the racer they preferred would make a mistake, fall behind, or be oblivious to a trick used by the other player.

He felt a chill run down his spine. This was the hellscape that Adam had wanted to create all along; the very idea that Kojiro and Kaoru had wanted to prevent, and fought with all their might to cease. Yet here it was, on full horrific display in front of his very own eyes. “S” made skating look like a brutal sport, full of unsportsmanlike conduct and sad*stic fans. There was no longer the joy present in the skaters that he had seen in the earlier racers he was friends with. They raced only for greed, for power, to win, to hurt each other, rather than to enjoy it for the entertaining sport that it truly was.

He directed his attention back to the race. The skater in pink had just sped ahead, when her opponent in blue tossed something at her with precise aim. The object cluttered to a stop in front of the pink skater, before exploding in a cloud of blue glitter. The board went out from under her, as she coughed violently. Kaoru watched in horror as she pitched forwards, somersaulted in the air, and landed on her back with a dull thud.

While the crowd thundered with uproarious applause, Kaoru only let his hand slide slowly to the front of his mask in horror. This was his proudest achievement as a teenager, creating a space for people like himself to enjoy themselves without judgement. Adam had transformed it to his magnum opus of glory and violence mixed together, and everyone here was so sickeningly desensitized to the nature of it all. My God, Ainosuke, He thought to himself as medics rushed onto the track, what have you done?

…

Isolation suited Shindo Ainosuke. He spent his days lounging around the Shindo family estate, making “smart” choices with his money, and flirting with whomever he could find to entertain himself for a while. His nights were spent locked in this office that he has grown so fond of, watching as race after race goes by without any sort of excitement anymore. Revolutionary skaters don’t appear as frequently as they used to, and he spends days without finding the one person that the world designed to be his partner.

Well, there was that blue haired skater a few weeks ago. The one who moved with the delicate mannerisms of snow, but with looks as sharp as ice. The Ice Prince, as “S” communities have begun to call him, had not shown his face since, and Ainosuke had set his sights elsewhere.

It's nights like that where his mind wandered back to the first person he had thought might be the one. That man was long gone now, living somewhere far away from him, but his heart still yearned for the only person who was closest to becoming his Eve.

Kaoru Sakurayashiki, his childhood friend and risk taker. The one who built his own board from scratch and programmed the AI inside of it himself, yet chose to hang around the bumbling idiot that was Kojiro Nanjo. The grace that Kaoru carried himself with was unmatched by anyone, and the speed he flew at was faster than light. Ainosuke was enamored with him from the beginning, and took him underneath his wing. If it weren’t for the protectiveness of Kojiro, Kaoru would have been his. This search for the one would have been finished by now, as Ainosuke would have found his soulmate, who would be his forever.

He had to thank Kojiro for being a part of it, though. If he hadn’t shaken Kaoru up before the big race, then Ainosuke wouldn’t have needed to build “S” up to what it was today. The theatrics, the drama, the blood, it would all have ceased to exist. And yet, Kojiro was always there at the exact right time. He prevented Kaoru from harnessing his true potential at any chance, out of fear for the risks of it. He prevented Ainosuke from getting close enough to properly enchant Kaoru with his charms. And he was at the warehouse just in time to save poor, sweet Kaoru from breaking every bone in his spine after taking a…how should he put it? Bad fall.

Ainosuke ripped the masquerade mask from his face and slammed it onto his desk. Nights like that were always the worst for him, they made him feel like a failure for even trying to find the one person that could complete his fractured heart. It made him feel selfish for using the splendor of “S” for his own gain.

But something caught his eye on the computer screen. He clicked onto one of the cameras to find the mysterious blue-haired skater. He was standing on a large rock, his hand entwined with another boy’s. They were cheering on the racers with a joy that he hadn’t seen on the faces of competitors in years. It was admirable, how they still managed to remain excited about a sport that was transformed to something so new by Ainosuke.

Jealousy wrapped her thorny hands around his heart, stabbing herself into him quicker than usual. This red-haired skater was too much like Kojiro already. The Ice Prince was too good for this boy, and was too talented for anyone in “S”. Anyone except for Ainosuke. This new boy could be his Eve, the one he had searched every corner of Okinawa for. The answer was under his nose the whole time.

He could have let his eyes linger on this boy for the longest time, but his attention was grabbed by something else.

The camera was focused on a civilian now, who looked like any old spectator to the naked eye. However, he knew better than that. There was a certain air that this person carried themselves with, which was so familiar to him. His gut began to twist in excited knots, as he zoomed in on the video feed until he got a glimpse of their hair, that was just barely concealed by a beanie.

The flash of baby pink was enough of a sign for him to know exactly who that man was. His long lost love had returned from abroad, and came back to Okinawa. Came back to him. Sakurayashiki. He thought to himself, refusing to take his eyes away from this figure.My love, you are home.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

The sunlight streamed through the cracks in the blinds, casting golden beams on the floor. Somewhere outside, birds chirped happily as they flew along. The neighbors were mowing their lawns, with the mower providing an alarm for both their children, and Kojiro.

Saturday mornings were the best for him He could sleep in, do his chores that he had put off, hit the gym if he had the time. They were the one day he would allow himself away from his work a week, just so he wouldn’t have a nervous breakdown anytime soon. The harmonies from outside were how he would know it was time for him to start functioning. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

He sat up, propping himself up on his hands. The events of last night were all a blur to him, as working nights usually are. Rather than focus on the best parts, like how at home he always feels in the kitchen, and the camaraderie that he built among his staff, his mind decided to focus on the bad.

To focus on Kaoru.

The older that Kojiro got, the more he realized that life was much easier when fights could resolve themselves with a simple race. Regardless of how big or small they were, that was how Kojiro and Kaoru managed to keep themselves from blowing every little thing out of proportion. They would hop on their boards some nights and race wherever they could, just to get the anger out of their systems. It was better than yelling at each other, or throwing punches.

He slid his eyes over to the corner of his room where his old board lay. It had been the hardest decision he had ever made, abandoning that sport to focus on work. But, seeing as the only other peer of his who founded “S” had become a psychotic recluse, it was the right one. The longing still would pull him towards the board from time to time. Some nights, he would take the board out to his driveway and practice the tricks he used to do so well.

Kaoru returned, which meant that all three of the original founders of “S” were now back in Japan, just miles away from the only thing that still united them. The invisible string that was tied around Kojiro’s mind, linked him to Kaoru, and to Ainosuke. He wanted to cut that string with garden shears and leave his past behind, but every night, his subconscious would manage to drive him back to that abandoned mine. He still fantasized about how it felt to fly across the dirt, and the thrill of never knowing how high you could fly before you fell.

Kojiro rolled out of bed, picked up the board, and shoved it into his closet. It wasn’t going to be used for good any time soon, and it reminded him too much of Kaoru, who he was in no position to forgive any time soon. He couldn’t allow that hatred to spread to his love for the sport. He would rather die.

The doorbell rang throughout the house. It was the weekend, and the mailman probably had come to deliver more ingredients to Kojiro. He grabbed a white shirt and tugged it on over his head, before leaving his cluttered room behind him. Still groggy from sleep, he stumbled down the hallway to the door.

When he opened it, Kojiro found something lying on the doorstep. There was no mailman for him to tip. He picked up the envelope, which was done up with so much gold Kojir could have sold it and gained a fortune, and headed back inside.

Flopping down at his kitchen table, he found the wax seal on the back. He squinted at it, before grabbing his glasses. The seal was in a deep crimson, and it was awfully familiar to Kojiro. There was a heart taking up most of it, but inside of the heart there was text. Or, rather, a letter.

“S”.

“f*ck.” Kojiro cursed, prying open the seal with his fingernails. If Ainosuke had really managed to find his new address, Kojiro was screwed. He had already moved three times before, trying his best to escape harassment from those who worked at that godforsaken skating ring. What was Ainosuke trying to do? Drive him out of the country? If so, it was very much working.

Kojiro was hit with the overwhelming aroma of rose-scented perfume. He coughed into his hand and ran to open a window, before sitting down again to read the swooping calligraphy.

”Dearest Joe.” The letter began. Kojiro almost threw up in his mouth. He knew Ainosuke was fond of using pet names, and romantic words, to call people in his life. The thought of being anyone’s “dearest”, specifically Ainosuke’s, sent his stomach into knots. He swallowed the disgust and read on. “You are cordially invited to participate in the latest and greatest tournament taking place at ‘S’.”

Oh, sure, Kojiro thought to himself with a snicker,as if that wasn’t the last twenty letters were about. When can that man learn to take a hint? Nevertheless, he persisted. “This tournament will mark the return of the leader of ‘S’, Adam, to competition.”

Kojiro had to pause for a second, in order to fully process the weight of the words in the letter. Shindo Ainosuke, who hadn’t seen sunlight since eighteen, who was arguably the best skater to ever live on Okinawa, who was a bastard and a vile human being that deserved nothing but the worst in life, was returning to competing at “S”. He had regained whatever hellish spirit had taken him over as a teenager, and was holding the most legendary tournament within the past century.

If Kojiro received a letter, Kaoru most likely did as well. It was clearly a sign to both of them that Ainosuke was watching them, still keeping tabs on their everyday life. He was sending a message to both Joe and Cherry Blossom, that they would have to challenge him to one last fight before he would finally leave. That was the only thing he could think of at the moment. He didn’t want to dwell on the thought of his former friend, but he also couldn’t bring himself to think about the numerous high school kids who received letters of the same variety. Which would lead him to thinking about how many children Ainosuke had managed to make worship him while Kojiro was recovering from everything that had gone down in his childhood, and Kaoru was MIA.

And Chinen Miya, the most talented, and youngest, skater at “S”. His worker, and one of the people he was closest to in life, despite jo being an absolute menace.

“sh*t, Miya!” Kojiro grabbed his keys off of the counter and rushed out to the garage. If there was one skater who was one to accept a challenge, no matter the danger, it was Miya. That kid was like a brother to him; Kojiro couldn’t bear to see him suffer. He couldn’t let more teenagers ruin their lives for the things they loved.

…

Miya was told to work the kitchens when he clocked in. Kojiro never worked Saturdays, and the kitchen needed extra hands tonight. Two dessert chefs called in sick with a bad summer cold. Miya wasn’t one to turn down some time in the kitchen, as much as he was loved by the customers when he waited tables, and happily obliged.

There was a few hours between his arrival and the opening where Miya stood at his station and began to bake the desserts for the case. Baking was like skating to him, a precise art that required just the right amount of everything to go over properly. For both, the slightest mistake resulted in total failure. It was a simple concept for Miya to wrap his head around. Plus, he was a sucker for pretty decorations and sweet treats, though he would never say that aloud.

He would have been more focused on a typical Saturday, but the mysterious letter had arrived in the morning and distracted him. All his thoughts were driven towards its contents. He had caught the eye of a skater that people would kill to even see outside of his house. Adam thought that he, Chinen Miya, was talented enough to compete in the most historically important tournament to have graced the tracks of “S” in the past decade.

Obviously, he was going to be absolutely insufferable until the first race. That was just how he competed, by annoying the hell out of the competition until they couldn't stand seeing him win. He learned the true victory came from winning and making the opposition feel horrible for losing, after being on the receiving end of some shameful losses himself. His tactic was foolproof, and worked with every skater he was up against, no matter how skilled they were.

He was daydreaming when the front door burst open, slamming into the wall and almost snapping off its hinges. “Where’s Miya? I need to speak with him!” He heard Kojiro yell. Miya sighed and washed his hands, stepping out of the kitchen.

“It’s your day off. What kind of psychopath would choose to go to work on his day off?” Miya remarked, sitting on top of the bar and fumbling around behind it for the bottle of grenadine. He unscrewed the top and poured himself a small glass full of the red sweetener, before turning back to the distressed Kojiro.

“I need to talk with you about ‘S’. I swear it’s urgent!” Kojiro wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and Miya offered him a rag.

“Sure. I mean, you’d know everything about it, seeing as you were a founder of the whole ring.” Miya sipped on his grenadine, placed it on the counter, and watched as Kojiro snatched it away from him.

“Stop drinking that, it’s not good for you, and it’s expensive nowadays. Ever heard of inflation, Miya? Well it’s a real thing and it’s dangerous to our business.”

“You’re ranting again, Kojiro.” Miya remarked.

Kojiro closed his mouth and sighed, placing two fingers to his temple. He mumbled something in Italian before be leaned over the bar and washed the cup out. He did all of that while saying the rest of his spiel. “Just like that competition. Don’t look at me like I’m crazy, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I got the same letter in the mail, the one with the overwhelming rose scent to it.”

Miya scoffed, “How do you know it’s a dangerous idea? You haven’t skated in almost a decade.”

“I quit for a reason, Miya. Adam is competing—I can assure you that—and when he fights, he fights dirty.” Kojiro placed the clean glass on the drying rack, and looked over at the boy.

“So? I’m not afraid of a little injury!”

Kojiro sighed and closed his eyes. Miya could tell that he was exasperated, but he didn’t speak. Nobody, not even the regulars on the staff, had seen Kojiro lose his temper. He didn’t want to be the one to be the first. “You’re literally the little brother I never got to have, Miya. I couldn’t bear for you to get hurt.”

“Kojiro…” Miya was touched by his boss’ words, but he wouldn’t show it. Not while Kojiro was on his soapbox. It gave Miya another thing to tease him about later. “I swear to you, I’ll drop out at the first sign of danger.”

“That’s not enough!” He shouted, before slapping a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. What I mean to say, is that Adam does these competitions for a reason. I don’t want to get into all the childhood trauma, at least not right now, but I’m asking for your trust on this. Please, Miya, be careful. That’s all I’ll ask of you.”

Miya nodded. “Okay, Kojiro. I promise.” And for the first time in his sixteen years of living, Chinen Miya meant it.

…

He couldn’t move from the floor. He didn’t think it was possible to get his heart back to his regular rate. He just leaned against the door, shaking and crying, for at least thirty minutes.

“My Dearest, Cherry Blossom.” Who knew that four words could have such an impact on someone? Those four words could take someone back to a time that was tainted with manipulation and scars, but when he was so in love. Cherry Blossom. Just like Kojiro, he had made a life for himself under that pseudonym. Just like Kojiro, he was still being watched by a man who had the worst intentions in mind.

Unlike Kojiro, he had the worst history with that vile snake of a man.

In Kaoru’s mind, it was love. It was the first time he had felt the love of another boy, and felt comfortable being open with it. Eighteen was a year of firsts, and a year of lasts, for him. First time being in love, first time falling out of it, first major brain injury. Last time feeling safe in Okinawa, last time on a board, last time being in Kojiro’s good graces.

Maybe he thought that he was safe. Maybe he thought that Ainosuke would have left that stupid obsession with finding his one true match behind in high school. Maybe Ainosuke would have found someone who was gullible enough to want to spend the rest of their miserable life with a man like that. But the second he stepped back on his home island, he knew that Ainosuke would be watching him, waiting for the day he made the grave mistake of visiting “S”.

It was one day before construction on the new location finished, and he needed to work across from someone he no longer felt like he could run to. If it weren’t for the fight with Kojiro f*cking up every plan he had for his time back home, Ainosuke managed to throw another wrench in the plan. Now Cherry Blossom needed to return, not just to work, but to the tracks of “S”. Kaoru needed to do something about this.

“Carla.” He spoke shakily into the silence of his apartment.

The board whirred to life and rolled across the floor until it was in front of him. “Yes, Master Cherry?”

“Longboard Form.” He commanded. The AI was so outdated and old, he doubted that the board still could manage to warp itself into another style. Sure enough, she changed, extending her body and widening herself to the longboard that Kaoru programmed all those years ago.

He slumped again, hanging his head in his hands. Part of him had hoped that the board wouldn’t work, and he wouldn’t be able to participate in the tournament. But he was Cherry Blossom, and he was obsessed with this technology. Of course he would have made it almost unable to malfunction, because skateboarding had once been his life. Without Carla, his life would have been over.

“Jesus Christ,” He sighed, “I guess he does get what he wants this time around.” He picked Carla up and placed her back on the charging stand he had mounted on the wall. “But this time, it’s going to be different.”

He walked into his bedroom, which he managed to keep relatively clean, and threw open the door to the closet. In the very back, hanging neatly on a hook, was his infamous hand-stitched kimono. He tossed it onto his bed, draping it over the comforter with care.

“This time, I’m going to win.”

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Kojiro slammed the newspaper on the counter, causing Miya to jump out of his skin. “Did you see this sh*t, Chinen?”

Miya, who was sitting at the counter and doing his summer homework, looked up. "Uh, no Grandpa, nobody reads newspapers anymore."

Kojiro rolled his eyes, "Just read it."

Move took a second and scrolled the page, his face never changing from the classic perpetual boredom the Kojiro was used to. " Wow, that's crazy ." He responded with sarcasm, emphasizing every word.

Kojiro sat down at the counter, yanking the newspaper back. The headline read Cherry Blossom’s Coffee Opens New Location in Okinawa, and on the front was a photo of a younger Kaoru Sakurayashiki, holding the keys to the first location in Tokyo. The location of this new restaurant just so happened to be right across from Joe’s Italia.

If he didn’t hate Kaoru already, he sure would have begun to hate him now. Abandoning him in a small town was one thing, but coming back to compete against him was a whole other issue. It was already so hard for family businesses to stay open nowadays, with all the chains sweeping the nation. Kojiro knew that any day could be the day that his business fell on hard times and would end up closing. And then what would he do? His passion lied in the mess and noise of the kitchen, and the relationships he formed with each customer that flew through his doors. If he lost his restaurant, he couldn’t feel motivated to live anymore. Kojiro would have lost his spirit.

And here comes businessman Cherry Blossom, making an entire corporation off of a name that has enough history to fill a textbook. Kojiro’s stomach turned at the thought of needing to deal with Kaoru as if he was just another business owner, as if he wasn’t so important in Kojiro’s life.

There he went again, thinking of Kaoru so highly. Those thoughts had started after he made the smart decision to begin hating his friend. His mind was not on the same terms as his heart, and that was proving quite troublesome. Kaoru wasn’t important to his current life, but more so to his childhood, and he was having a hard time separating the two.

“It says they open sometime in December,” Miya was leaning over and reading the text upside down. “I can skip a night of homework if you want to do some covert investigating on our competition.”

Kojiro almost threw his head back and laughed at the very suggestion. He didn’t want to understand what he was up against, he wanted to be better than his competitor. “Since when did I ever say I wanted to go support his business?”

“You didn’t need to say it. I said it for you. Frankly, I think it’s a smart plan.” Miya leaned back, and studied the formulas before him quizzically. “You don’t need to go with me. I can just go on my own and report back.”

“Absolutely not. That’s treason.”

“Look, let me level with you here.” Miya was folding his hands like a businessman, and looked Kojiro in his eyes with a blank look. “It’s a smart strategy to try and understand who you are fighting against. Cherry Blossom might be different from Joe’s, but they’re still our competitors. The info we get could be used to improve your business where it lacks, so that we last longer here than Cherry Blossom.”

Kojiro wanted to scream that he did know who he was fighting against. He was fighting against someone smart enough to program a fully operational AI when he was sixteen, and someone who belonged in a place where he could change the world instead of the restaurant business. He knew his enemy too well, and that was exactly the problem. He couldn’t physically allow himself to support the endeavors of Kaoru, no matter how smart the idea was.

He placed his head on the counter. “Yes, but—“

“But nothing. I’m dragging you along that night. I’d need a ride anyways.” Miya picked his papers off the counter, tapped them twice on the wood to straighten them, and shoved it in the folder he had next to him. “And you can’t protest. Otherwise you owe me a raise.”

…

“What!” Reki screamed loud enough to rattle the window panes in the store. “You can’t do that!”

His boss placed his head in his hands. “It’s the only thing I can do, Reki. I don’t want to give Dope Sketch bad publicity with you participating in that tournament. The last time something like this happened, people boycotted . I can’t take those losses again.”

“But firing me? That’s not logical!”

“You actually have no idea how logical it is.”

Reki felt tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He hated the fact that he was getting angry, because that meant he was going to start crying. His mind didn’t enjoy the feeling of his temper rising, and tricked him into crying every single time, without fail.

Dope Sketch was the only local skateboard shop that didn’t try to push the sport as an aesthetic. Every clothing store that pandered, or tried to pander, to skaters managed to completely misconstrue their audience, and attracted the attention of people who just liked the feel of the loose clothes on themselves. The owner was in his middle ages, probably around forty-five, and had hired a bright eyed Reki at the age of fourteen. Three years into his time working there, Reki had managed to manufacture and deliver a good chunk of the products that were sold there. The businesses had given Reki the spark for design that he possessed at seventeen.

And now, because of “S” and the opportunity of a lifetime, he was being fired.

Reki grabbed his board from the back room, without another word to his former boss, and stormed out of the shop. It was times like these where he debated quitting the sport altogether, times when the world seemed to turn against him in the worst ways possible. Out of work, out of a hobby, and feeling incredibly dejected, he strolled down the main street.

Langa would have held his head high, and would have found a silver lining. Langa would tell him to pick himself up, dust himself off, and get a new job. God, Reki needed Langa here right now. It would have been so much easier to deal with the new kid he had taken a liking to by his side.

Reki didn’t realize that he was walking right at someone until he looked up, and ran straight into the tallest and strongest man on this side of the island. Nanjo “Joe” Kojiro was hanging a sign on the window, and barely flinched when Reki slammed into him. He just simply looked down at the boy. “Sorry, kid. I should have moved out of the way.”

Reki shrugged, “It’s ok, Mr. Joe. I should have been paying better attention.”

Kojiro seemed to scoff at the use of his other name. “Hate to break it to you, but nobody by the name of Joe runs this place. I just made the name up off the top of my head.”

Reki glanced up into the man’s eyes, catching the slight sideways glance being thrown his way. “Well, you don’t need to act like you don’t know where that name came from around me. I skate for ‘S’, obviously I know who you are.”

Reki sat down on the curb, and placed his head in his hands. It broke his heart that he couldn’t even manage to excite himself over the fact that he was speaking with one of the founders of “S”, because of how awful he felt inside. After another minute, a shadow was cast on him. Kojiro had sat himself down on the curb as well and blocked the Sun with his head. “Of course you skate for ‘S’, who doesn’t nowadays?” He responded.

Reki looked up at Kojiro, trying to note any changes since the former legend left the sport. The green hair had remained, which was something Reki was quite happy about. He had it tied out of his face, and tucked a pencil behind his ear. Somehow, Kojiro had managed to keep the youthfulness of Joe alive for eight long years. “Yeah, well, with this letter being sent out, more and more people will begin skating.” Reki pulled the crumpled piece of paper out from his hoodie pocket, and showed it to Kojiro, who sighed exasperatedly.

“Jesus, why does every kid have that? First Miya, and now you.”

“Miya, like Chinen Miya? Oh, count me out of this competition. I have no chance now.” Reki joked half-heartedly.

Kojiro laughed harshly, “I got one too. Obviously, I’m not going to take it, but it was courteous of Adam to try and get Cherry and I back out into the scene again.”

“Why aren’t you returning?” Reki asked, watching Kojiro’s face shift.

The man thought for a long time, weighing his options and reasons with every tilt of his head. “I wish I had a more respectable answer, other than fear, but I don’t. It’s pure fear. Adam is a dangerous man, and I’m not as young or as skilled as I used to be. I couldn’t hold my own against kids as spry as you.”

“Well, clearly you’re old. You just used the word ‘spry’ in a sentence. Unironically.”

Kojiro laughed. “Quite the comedian we have here. What’s got you so down on such a lovely day. Summer is winding down, kid. Soon both school and the tournament begin, and you’ll have no free time. Go out and skate or something instead of being so down.”

Reki sighed. “I just got fired for being remotely associated with the latest tournament. Too much of a risk for my boss.”

“Dope Sketch?” Kojiro asked. When Reki nodded, he rolled his eyes. “Figures. That man never likes to take risks. He looked down on my fr—colleague making his own board once. That kid went on to be one of the most skilled skaters I know, and your former boss never had anything nice to say about him. I see no issue with you severing ties with his business. Good riddance!”

“The issue is that my funds were going towards getting the materials I needed to build and repair skateboards. Without that money, I can’t do that.” Reki felt his voice begin to shake with the sadness he was fighting to keep at bay. He didn’t expect to even meet Kojiro, let alone talk to him, but the conversation was making him feel vulnerable.

Kojiro closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. He seemed to be thinking very carefully before speaking, as if the words he was going to say could make or break the situation. “You really love to build, huh?”

Reki nodded. “I want to do it for a career. It helped me love this sport a hell of a lot more.”

Kojiro stood up, extending a helpful hand to Reki, who gratefully took it. “Tell you what,” The man wiped his hands on his jeans. “If you come back here tomorrow afternoon, I may have a job for you. You’ll need proper training first, before you can do much more in the kitchen area, but I could use more hands on the floor as waitstaff. What do you say?”

Reki felt the spark of hope ignite itself in his chest. “Of course! Yes, I’ll be here bright and early. Thank you!” He grabbed his skateboard and began to push himself away.

“Not too early!” Kojiro laughed. “I like my sleep.”

…

Kaoru didn’t know the slightest thing about building anything. He had hired the contractor, and the staff, and paid them extra every single time they needed to stay over. He was ever so grateful each time he received an update from the construction crew on how progress was going.

Until there were no more updates to receive.

It was a clear Sunday morning, almost five months before he was set to open, and he was standing inside the fully furnished and operational new location of his chain. No feeling could ever compare to the pride that he felt each time he was able to see and open a new location of this chain. He could introduce his pride and joy to new people and new corners of his country, and that was something he will never cease to be happy about.

Staffing it, that was another question. Certain people needed that five months to transfer themselves from one location to another and settle on Okinawa. Kaoru was understanding of this, and gave them that large amount of time to get themselves situated before deciding to open the store officially. For now, he was just in charge of inspecting the finished inside, and preppinghimselffor that day.

The walls had dark blue stones on them in a thin line around the seating area. The rest of the wall was painted white and decorated with photos of the island. Each table was made of realistic looking wood, and the chairs were made of black iron. Each chair had a cushion that was either light pink or light purple. The menu screens were up and running, with the full list of options on display. The cases may have been empty, but they would soon be filled with pastries and dishes that the staff made in the kitchen. Kaoru walked through the seating area aimlessly, taking everything in. This was so different from the other locations in the cities, much more relaxed and demure.

The kitchen area was full of shining appliances, which must have been new. The counter space was clean, with no stray signs of dust or dirt left over from construction. Usually the kitchen area was smaller, seeing as this was a coffee shop, but this area was larger than what he was used to. He was amazed at how quickly this whole project had been completed.

“So, Mr. Kaoru, thoughts?” The contractor asked, after Kaoru had managed to wander all the way back into the dining area.

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” Kaoru shook his hand, and smiled.

“When you open, I’ll be there with my family. I’m very proud of how this turned out, and I hope you’ll do a good job with this location.” The contractor made his way to the door, and opened it for Kaoru.

“I’m honored, sir.” Kaoru responded. It was almost evening. The sun was sinking down behind the horizon, and painting the whole island in gold. Kaoru felt his glasses transition slowly into sunglasses, and sighed contentedly.

“Oh!” The contractor exclaimed, rummaging around in his pockets for something. “I almost forgot. In order to properly open in December, you need a key.” He took a a small key ring out from inside his pocket, and placed it in Kaoru’s palm. “Good luck, Mr. Kaoru.”

He waved and walked around the corner, leaving Kaoru on the sidewalk. Kaoru let himself sigh and relax against the wall of his shop. Soon, he would be open for business, and everything could return to normal.

He let his eyes stray over to the shop across the street, to Kojiro.

Through the windows, Kaoru could see the man rushing across the floor, holding trays full of dishes. His hair was still pulled back in its classic green ponytail, and his uniform stretched around his muscles. Kaoru wished he could have walked over and begged for forgiveness, or that he could apologize to his old friend. For weeks it felt like something was missing from his life, and each time he let himself think about it, Kaoru let his mind wander back to Kojiro. Kojiro who could tell a joke and ease the tension so easily, who could calm everyone, who could make Kaoru feel so comfortable.

The distance had let anger fester for so long, but why did it feel so one-sided to Kaoru? Why did absence make his heart grow fonder, yet make Kojiro’s heart feel so much colder?

Kaoru exhaled and closed his eyes, running a hand through his long hair. When he reopened them, Kojiro had paused in his work to look out the window. His brown eyes were open wide in shock, and he held a tray in one hand. When Kaoru locked eyes with him, Kojiro looked away.

It wasn’t time for distractions, Kaoru told himself. There were five months before he opened his restaurant and needed to focus all his energy on running his business. Kojiro could watch all he wanted, Kaoru would pay him no mind.

As he began the walk back home, he felt the hot gaze of someone burning into his back. He looked back once more to see that Kojiro had rushed out of his restaurant, and was standing on the sidewalk out of breath. The two stared at each other, willing each other to move, to speak, to do something .

Kaoru broke the gaze first, turning around and walking away. He didn’t wait to hear Kojiro’s footsteps retreating. For the first time in his life, he didn’t care.

Chapter 5: The Holiday Special

Chapter Text

Reki had been working for Kojiro for five months. He had got himself down to a routine by now, and started to recognize some of the regulars. People began to purposefully ask to be seated in his section, because they believed he was sociable, and he would greet them as friendly as he was the first time they sat in his booths.

Kojiro had told him to stay late one night, and Reki happily obliged. When the last customers left from the store, Kojiro came stumbling out of the back with a large box of decorations. “It’s the holiday season, Kyan. We have to get ourselves ready for the craze the people on this island go on at this time.”

“So, like, Christmas?” Reki reached a hand into the box and pulled out a small figurine of an elf.

“ Winter . It’s more general that way, and inclusive. Plus, it rarely snows here. People would kill to experience a true snowy winter, like your friend from Canada.” Kojiro grabbed a bag of fake snow, and began to dust the windowsills with it.

Kojiro had seen Langa stop by with Reki in the mornings, or afternoons, when it was his turn for the shift. He would occasionally ask about how “the f*cking blue one” was doing, and Reki would respond. Langa was still unemployed, and had officially managed to fully settle in before the break hit. Each time Reki pitched the idea of Langa getting a job at Joe’s, his friend judy sighed and shook his head.

Reki grabbed a string of lights, and pulled a chair up to an outlet by a window. He strung them along the frame, and flipped the switch on. From the outside, it looked reminiscent of the icicles that many people had seen in the cartoons or movies.

Kojiro was sticking decals in the front window of snowflakes and snowmen, when Reki saw him freeze. He stared across the street briefly, his attention captured by the new store across the way. Reki never commented on how often he’d lose focus in the middle of work, to watch the man in the kimono open up the shop briefly. The storm that was hiding behind Kojiro’s eyes told Reki enough.

But this look wasn’t one of anger, like what Kojiro usually looked at the man with. This was wistful, one of reminiscent and longing. “Something wrong, boss?” Reki asked, snapping Kojiro out of his trance.

“Nothing, nothing. I just…saw an old friend.” Kojiro dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“Does this friend happen to work at that coffee shop across the street?”

“Yes.”

Reki laughed. “Last time I checked, you hated that shop. Is it the Christmas Spirit or whatever that’s changed your mind?”

“Oh no, I still hate him and his stupid chain. But look,” he waved his hand and Reki walked over. “He’s practicing again.”

Reki knew that Kaoru Sakurayashiki owned the chain that was moving across from them, but he didn’t expect the man to be standing across the street on his skateboard. Carla was still shiny and new, despite being a good twelve years old, and Cherry Blossom was still in high spirits. “You never told me it was Cherry who you hated.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you or anyone who was a fan of mine.”

Kojiro returned to the bar and poured himself a glass of water, doing the same for Reki. “Take my advice kid, and don’t do what I did. Try and keep things going with you and your friends nowadays, no matter what gets thrown at you. Otherwise, you’ll end up like me. Alone on the holidays.”

Reki left his work and sat at the bar, next to Kojiro. “Hey, don’t worry. You aren’t alone. You’ve got me, Miya, and the staff here. We’re all here for you during the holidays. And didn’t you yourself say that you wanted us to see each other as a family?”

Kojiro laughed into his glass. “I guess you’re right. I never thought of it that way before.” He stood up, and placed his drink in the sink. “Tell you what, Reki. I’ll finish up here, and you can go home. It’s in the holiday spirit , as they say.”

Reki nodded. He walked back over to the box of decorations, and rummaged around for something. “Mr. Kojiro, can I please take the fake snow? I want to do something for a friend of mine.”

“Yeah, sure. And you can just call me Kojiro, the ‘Mr.’ part makes me feel old.”

Reki laughed and grabbed his board. “Have a Happy Holidays, Kojiro.”

“You too, Reki. Get home safely.”

Reki pushed open the door and pocketed the bag. He needed to make a pit stop at Langa’s apartment before he could go back to his family, just so he could work a miracle for his friend.

Reki was going to make it snow on Okinawa.

…

Langa hated winter in Okinawa.

For the past few months, where it would have been cold and snowing in Canada, he had been complaining about the lack of snow on the island. There was nothing fun to do here anymore. He couldn’t make a snowman, he couldn’t throw snowballs, he couldn’t snowboard. There wasn’t such a thing as a snow day either, so he was dragged to school all the time in this season. All the joy had been sucked out of this time of year.

He wished he could have gone home to Canada, just to see the green grass and trees coated with a sparkling white sheet of snow. If only for a weekend, he wanted to turn back time to a Christmas before now, so he could finally turn the dream of snow to a reality. It wasn’t just for him, that dream. He missed the smiling face of his mother when his father would drag her outside in the snow some days, just so she could get pelted with snowballs by her son. And he wanted to show Reki what a real winter would look like, because he knew that Reki would love Canada.

But all of that was left in his dreams. He was, instead, stuck inside on a perfectly clear winter’s night, doing history homework that his teacher was cruel enough to assign him the week before break. He didn’t want to

learn about feudalism, but he was sitting inside at his desk writing about it anyways. He would occasionally imagine that the stars outside were snowflakes, hung in midair for a bit, before realizing how stupid that sounded and returning to work.

It wasn’t until nine that night, when he had finally switched over to a simple math worksheet, that he began to notice the steady stream of snow that was falling outside his window, and landing on his balcony and windowsill. He had finished his trigonometry work, and was going to shove it back into his bag when he noticed the white powder that had piled up on his windows. “No way…” he muttered to himself, standing from his desk and walking to the door.

He hadn’t looked at the weather, and didn’t know whether the temperature had dropped to zero degrees Celsius yet, but he prayed that he wasn’t having hallucinations of snow right now. He threw the door open and walked tentatively onto his balcony, letting it hit his face and get caught in his hair. In spite of himself, he let out a laugh, and began to spin around on the small block.

“I didn’t think you’d like this that much.” The voice came from above him, and Langa jumped a foot in the air. Reki was sitting on the balcony above him, holding a little bag full of white glitter.

“Oh, it’s fake.” Langa remarked, as Reki maneuvered himself down to the balcony that Langa was standing on.

“Of course it’s fake! It’s not cool enough for snow.” Reki landed on his feet next to Langa, and leaned back against the railing. “But I still wanted to surprise you. You were so down this week, and I figured a reminder of Canada would cheer you up.”

Langa smiled. “It did, don’t worry.” He nudged Reki with his shoulder, playfully.

Reki reached an arm around to squeeze his friend on the other shoulder. After five minutes, Langa realized that Reki wasn’t going to move unless he was asked. Langa didn’t want him to move. He leaned his head on Reki’s shoulder, feeling his pulse skyrocket. “Have you had anything to eat?”

Reki shook his head. “No. I mean, I stole a candy cane from Kojiro, but that’s about it.”

Langa pulled away from his friend and opened his door. “Come in, Reki. It’s getting colder out, and Mom got pizza. You can have some and help me with my homework.”

His friend blushed slightly, “Alright, Langa.”

Langa extended a hand to Reki, and the two boys stumbled inside the apartment hand in hand.

…

Midnight struck with a chime throughout the empty coffee shop. Kaoru hung his last garland and shoved the stepladder back in the closet. Cherry Blossom’s would have to stay this way until the next day, he told himself as he walked out of the shop, locking the door behind him. He could decorate more later.

Across the street, Kojiro was doing the same. He had managed to finish hanging streamers, setting up the Elf on the Shelf, and put up the tree in the corner. He hung the signs advertising his annual fundraiser for the food bank nearby, before locking up for the night. It was just his luck that his car had broken down two days ago, and was waiting on a repair in the shop. He needed to walk home in the cold.

The two gentlemen turned around and locked eyes as soon as they finished closing up. Neither spoke. Kojiro out of spite, and Kaoru out of anger. They both knew it was the holiday season, and that they could be kind to each other just to be in the spirit, but neither particularly wanted to.

It was then that they noticed the first flake, falling gently to the ground, where it melted. Snow had finally graced Okinawa, after years without a winter snowfall. Kaoru was mesmerized by it, before Kojiro called out to him. “Did you ever see snow when you were in America?”

Kaoru nodded, “New York gets plenty. How about you?”

Kojiro shook his head, “Californians like to decorate palm trees. We didn’t see an inch.”

Kaoru crossed the street, and Kojiro made room on the sidewalk for him. “It was always a dream of ours to see snow here. For a second, I thought it wouldn’t come true.”

“It was too warm earlier. It dropped astronomically tonight.” Kojiro began to stroll along, and motioned for Kaoru to follow him. “All the kids are going to lose their minds when they see this.”

“So will the adults.” Kaoru responded. “This will put Ainosuke’s tournament on hold for a while.”

Kojiro tensened. “So you got invited as well?”

Kaoru nodded. “I didn’t want to participate originally, but it was clearly a taunt to me. You know how I do with being teased.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Kojiro laughed. “I always liked joking with you before the races. It motivated you more to know that I was going to mock you.”

Kaoru laughed, and stuck his tongue out to catch snowflakes. “It helped. You should join the tournament to spice things up; it would help me.”

Kojiro shook his head. “I’ve long since retired from the sport, but thanks.”

The two finally came to a fork in the road. Kojiro had to go left, and Kaoru walked towards the right. The two turned and looked back at each other, the snow falling down heavily between them. Kojiro didn’t know what came over him, but he began to smile at Kaoru, despite the hatred he felt. “Happy Holidays, Kaoru.”

“Happy Holidays, Kojiro.” Kaoru responded, as the men made their ways down their roads. “Wait, Kojiro!” Kaoru called out, rushing back down his road.

Kojiro jogged back to his colleague. “Yes?”

“You dropped this,” Kaoru held a handmade scarf, with stripes of red, green, and white in a diagonal line down it. “here.” Kaoru wrapped it around Kojiro’s neck, careful to not touch his old friend.

Kojiro could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and his face turning flushed, but he kept his cool. He hated the fact that Kaoru still had this effect on him, after all these years. It was a delicate, tender moment between the two, one that was rare nowadays. They both knew it would be a moment of weakness that they would regret for days to come, but with the snow and the warmth they felt, they didn’t regard it as such in the moment.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” Kojiro asked, before he departed.

Kaoru smiled, letting go of the scarf and backing up. “Let’s just call it the holiday spirit.”

The two waved goodbye, walked away, and made their way back to their houses. The snow fell steadily throughout the night, as the citizens of the town slept softly. Even though the heat was on in his house, Kojiro kept the scarf on the whole night, as a reminder of the friend that he had missed the whole time.