Tomorrow's Medals, Underwear, and the Miraculous Power
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I made this to selfishly please myself and a friend. That's all~
ETA 5/12/14: This story started out as a post-OOO agony soother for a friend of mine and sort of spiraled into a multi-part continuity held together by excessive sappiness and kawaii bird tears. It is self-satisfying fan excess distilled and I can't find it in my heart to be ashamed. It's the internet, after all.
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“Choosing you worked out for me, in the end.”

Eiji let the currents turn him in mid-air. There was no effort to it, the simple shifting of his weight to one side so that the air rushing up to greet him and fill the vacuum overhead exerted greater force on the other. In the split second after he flipped over, his eyes took in a snapshot of the city spread out far below him, whole, unshattered, rewound. The void had begun ti fill itself in. He didn't see it long. For once his aim was singular, his infinite desire set on a fixed point within his reach.

He snapped his arm out and found purchase with his shaking fingers, however tenuous. Time slowed and shuddered around them, or so it seemed. Black tatters lashed his bare wrist and he willed his fingers to still and tighten. Scaly, armored flesh shifted under his grip, threatening to disperse.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“I don't know, really, I don't!” He shouted the lie against the wind trying to force itself down his throat. “But I know I'm only here because in the end you were beside me, and it's only fair that we stay together. So, I...”

Ankh's nails dug into the back of his hand, sharp and solid and real. “What, you think you owe me your life? You idiot.”

“You live on desire, don't you?” Eiji spat the words like an accusation and shut his eyes against a wall of white that flew up into his face. Vapor billowed around them as they broke the wind-tossed cloud cover and he reeled Ankh into the fluttering folds of his clothes. For whatever reason, he didn't resist. Eiji's fingers sunk through his fading form slowly, as if through putty, and closed around the jagged center around which the whole tremulous package wound.

“What about it?”

“I'm the same!” The rawness of treading so close to his reality came through in his voice. “I convinced myself I didn't want anything when all I wanted was the power to do everything. But now, and back then, too...”

The five points of Ankh's fingers pressed against his chest, trying to tear free and finding no purchase. The shattered fragment biting into his palm smoothed, swelled, became as warm as blood.

“You already thanked me, so quit stalling before you die! Moron!”

Eiji squeezed harder, allowed himself to keenly feel the pain where its repaired edge had cut into him. He willed his infinite vessel to overflow into it, to begin something. Wind and water stung his eyes, but he refused to blink.

“It's more than that!” The thing in his hand swelled, suddenly soft and rounded and fluttering. Like a little bird in his hand. A boom and the shriek of splitting wind sounded overhead. “I'm an insensitive person, but I realize there's more to it than that. What I should have said then... You...” He swallowed around the words and they refused to fall back into him. The little bird's heart thrummed in his fist. “I love you!”

No, it was even more than that, more selfish, more forceful.

“I want you! Ankh!”

The pulsing presence in his hand blossomed and burst into a thousand luminescent threads that forced his fingers apart, twined around them, and spun off into the air before him. The light strands thickened, knitted together, and in one final flash solidified into bony body wreathed in red ripples that whipped around the two of them. It happened in an instant, this outpouring of a singular desire from an infinite store to bring something new into being. Soft, slim, unarmored fingers grasped frantically at the front of his shirt. Ankh's eyes, at least in the moment before he buried his face in Eiji's chest, were huge. He clearly wasn't accustomed to falling.

They tumbled once, twice, thrown off balance by the added weight. Face up again, Eiji watched the tangle of red cloth go flying off past a glinting form diving toward them.

“Hino!”

“Gotou?”

A gloved hand darted out before his face. “I won't pretend to know what's going on, just grab on!”

Ankh's head snapped up, but he remained otherwise fixed in place. “Took you long enough!”

Their descent slowed and the air around them calmed just enough to let voices above, below, and beside him overtake the rushing of wind and flapping of fabric. Words and hands reaching out for him on all sides, waiting for him, offering the ties he'd cut and slipped for years. The words filtered up to him, some clearer than others.

“Avoiding other people's help won't make you stronger!”

“Just come home!”

He'd had what he needed all along, hadn't he?

He set his jaw and reached out. Ankh squawked and clamped onto him when the cutter wing's engine roared and they all came to an abrupt near-stop that threatened to jerk Eiji's shoulder out of its socket. Their final, feather light descent landed them in a cushion of voices and hands. Hina grasping his sore shoulder while Shingo looked on with a sheepish smile Eiji couldn't decode. Chiyoko holding both he and Ankh so tightly he was afraid he might suffocate. Date standing off to the side – but not far – to needle him for worrying them. All these things and more, much more, that he couldn't even take in. In this small space, a cluster of people all within his reach, there was so much to feel and have that it was as if he'd never been hollowed out at all.

Once they'd settled firmly on the ground, the tension left Ankh's arms and he slumped onto his knees, dragging Eiji down with him. His shoulders shook lightly under Eiji's hands.

“Ankh? What's wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Chiyoko swooped in to crouch behind Ankh, fingers light on the tops of his arms, while Date slid into position between the three huddled figures and their gasping friends. They moved into place quickly and efficiently, as if through a shared intuition Eiji lacked.

“Ankh, honey, it's all right,” Chiyoko said, paying no mind to Ankh's grumbling. She turned stern, patient eyes onto Eiji's. “Eiji, give Ankh something to cover up with.”

“Eh?” Eiji's fingers twitched, and for the first time he fully comprehended the smooth, bare expanse of skin under them. His face flashed pink and he scrambled to shrug out of his shirt. “Ah! Sorry! I wasn't even thinking about that after all- Sorry!”

“You'd better be,” Ankh snapped as he snatched the billowy orange shirt from Eiji's grasp. The tremor in his voice tempered his words. “This is at least half your fault, anyway.”

Chiyoko hushed him and smoothed the shirt over his back, pointedly ignoring the way Date's shoulders had started to shudder with restrained amusement. “There you are, poor thing,” she said. “Now, I know you're flustered, but that's no reason to be mean to Eiji.”

“Chiyoko,” Date intoned, looking vaguely over his shoulder. “Nobody else is going to say anything about it, but the atmosphere is getting a little tense. It would be great if you could wrap it, and him, up so we can move out.”

Eiji flinched and muttered another string of apologies as he rooted around in his pockets for the clean pair of boxers he'd taken along that morning. These, too, Ankh snapped out of his hand.

“Idiot. You should be the one walking home like this. Turn around.”

“I know, I know,” Eiji muttered as he stood. He shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and offered the others, Hina especially, a string of penitent looks. Their reactions ranged from the absolving shake of Hina's head to the roll of Satonaka's eyes. The firm grasp of Ankh's fingers around his wrist turned him back around.

“Let's go already.” He yanked hard on Eiji's arm to get him moving, and through that tight grip Eiji felt the way he carried himself: Tightly wound, stiff, and subtly trembling still.

“Ankh?”

“Don't you start fawning over me, too,” Ankh said before taking in a long breath he released with his next words. “There's just... a lot, that's all.”

Eiji nodded and breathed a relieved sigh. He couldn't pretend to understand the shock of suddenly experiencing the full, unfiltered nature of the world with a body and heart of flesh and blood. Even his brief brush with inhumanity had robbed him of so much. Not having the words, he didn't speak. Instead, he flexed his wrist hard and curled his fingers up to touch Ankh's wrist. Ankh, just as silent, let his hand slacken and slide down to rest in Eiji's. The tremor ceased, leaving only the warm flutter of his pulse.

Chiyoko surged up beside them with the Izumi siblings in tow, chattering about making a big dinner for everyone. Team Birth lagged behind a few paces and talked amongst themselves. Eiji let himself listen in just in time for Gotou to kill the conversation.

“Say, Date-”

A solid thump and an audible wince. “Sssh!”

.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.

It was strange, watching Ankh move about in the same space as Shingo Izumi, and it was only once dinner came to a close and they and Hina clustered together for a few minutes that Eiji recognized the root of the strangeness. Contrary to his expectations, they weren't indistinguishable. Their styles, their mannerisms, even the subtle way their attitudes held their facial muscles, made them distinct people. With Hina nearby, they looked even more like close relatives as opposed to doubles. Eiji watched idly from his seat at the head of the table, picking at his bowl of ice cream, until Ankh sauntered back to the table with his phone in hand. It was effectively his, the three had decided. It could be a birthday present. Ankh didn't say a word when he returned to his seat, but his gaze did flick toward Eiji for just an instant. He'd finished eating a while ago, and since then had been absorbed alternately in his phone and his thoughts, outside interruptions excepted.

One such distraction swished out of the kitchen and touched Ankh's shoulder from behind. Chiyoko smiled at Eiji while Ankh glowered up at her. “Eiji, I'm going to borrow Ankh in the kitchen for a few minutes.”

“Hah? Why me?”

Eiji almost tripped on his own feet getting up out of his chair, dish in hand. “No, don't worry about it, I'm fine to help.”

Chiyoko's eyes narrowed and her voice took on a dangerous edge. “I'm borrowing him specifically.” She lifted Ankh's arm and he came along easily, the sour look on his face aside. “You take your time out here.”

“Good call!” Date hollered from the corner table he and Gotou had colonized when fatigue dulled the celebratory atmosphere. Satonaka hadn't bothered to hang around. “I've been meaning to take Hino aside, myself.”

Eiji hid his panic behind a lopsided smile. “What for?”

“Man stuff,” Date said. He nudged Gotou, who by all appearances was trying to ignore the whole exchange. “Do my peace of mind a favor and walk Hina and the detective to the station, all right?”

“Sure,” Gotou said, a little too eagerly.

Hina and Shingo exchanged a look and promptly excused themselves, and within moments Eiji found himself hauled out the front door while Chiyoko disappeared into the kitchen with Ankh. The late summer air clung to his skin and made the hot flush of shame that came prematurely over him all the more suffocating.

“Relax,” Date said. “I'm not as thick as you are, so getting your walls up won't do you any good. I know something changed between you two up there, and I suspect it's got something to do with Anko's surprise birthday. I'd clear space in the fridge for a cake if I were you, by the way. Just a hunch.”

Eiji was very quiet for a few seconds, toying with the fringed edge of his shirt.

“It doesn't bother me in the least, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Ah,” Eiji said, letting the hem of his shirt drop back down. “I guess I decided I was tired of making myself cry.” He considered his next words very carefully for fear of doing just that by forcing the memory of reaching out in panic too suddenly to the forefront of his mind. “Ankh... Was hurt inside, badly. I don't know how or when – it might have even been me, out of control – but one of his Cores had cracked. I watched it split in half before the void closed up. I must have passed out from the drop, because the next thing I knew he was there, barely, just a hand slapping me awake. He started talking about dying, and I knew that if I didn't even reach out to him I'd cry for the rest of my life. So I did, and it was like grabbing seafoam. There was so little left to him that my fingers went through the Core, or half of it. I squeezed it so hard that it cut my hand open, and I... I said what I maybe should have said before. And I let myself want him.”

A single car passed by, throwing irregular yellow beams across the darkened yard. When it passed, Date drew a hissing, wet breath through his nose. “And so here we are,” he said. “The power of desire! Magnificent! Or something like that.”

Eiji let the memory drop back and allowed himself to smile. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Yeah, well.” Date's overblown imitation of Kougami's manic grin evened out. “All that stuff you were supposed to say earlier, he's probably going to ask if you meant it or not.”

“Eh? Why?”

“People are insecure. They like to know you stick by what you say when it applies to them. Understand?”

Eiji considered this while Date watched his expression expectantly. “No, I don't,” he finally admitted. He slumped against the wall beside the front door. “I don't have the experience to understand, I guess.”

“No shame in that. I was prepared to spell it out for you anyway.” He patted Eiji's shoulder and nodded to himself. “You see, Hino, a heart coming to terms with love is a fragile, uncertain thing. You risk a lot of yourself loving someone, especially the first time. Anko might puff himself up, but he's just as inexperienced as you are. Even if he believes you, he might want to test your conviction. So he'll ask.”

“You keep talking like you know how he feels,” Eiji said, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. “That's not fair.”

“Is it? I'm an observant man, you know. I saw him grab onto you and wait for your invitation to put his hand in yours. He's a hesitant guy for that nasty personality of his. I was surprised.”

“Well...” Eiji fidgeted and looked for something, anything of interest immediately to his right. Why did he suddenly feel twelve years old? “I didn't think about it that way. I don't know if I want to.”

“And that's dangerous,” Date said, drifting into his field of view to level a stern look at him. “If your first instinct is to withdraw like that, you might welch on all those nice things you said in the clutch. And you won't be the only one crying then.”

Eiji groaned and slid down the wall to become a rumpled pile of shame by the door. The lights in the windows suddenly snapped off, and Date hauled him to his feet.

“Looks like they're done, too,” he said. “I'll take my leave from here. It's a good night for a long walk home, I'd say.” He waved once, languidly, as he walked to the gate. “Try not to make anybody cry tonight!”

“Yeah,” Eiji said, feeling that was all he could promise.

He took his time tidying up after their little family party, though he got the distinct impression Chiyoko wanted to shoo his up to his room to rest. She allowed him to drift behind her and soak in the mellow atmosphere he'd been so ready to leave behind, saying next to nothing until he excused himself for the night. She caught him by the hand at the foot of the stairs and beamed up at him in her fondly manic way.

“I think you know this better than Ankh does, but you'll always have a place here, both of you. Whatever you kept from me is irrelevant. I'm just glad that you're both safe.”

“I know,” Eiji said after a second, bowing his head and looking off to the side. That Hina had told her everything made it easier to accept the offer of support, but the mention of Ankh brought too many follow-up questions bubbling to the surface of his brain. Just what were they talking about in the kitchen? OOO and the Greed, or worse, him? He swallowed. “And I appreciate it, really. I'm sure he does too.”

“Of course,” she said. She stepped back and returned his hand. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

Eiji's feet fell heavier with each step up the stairs, as if proximity to his bed drained the anxious energy that had kept him upright for so many hours. The sound of running water and a vacant couch suggested Ankh wouldn't come sauntering in any time soon. He changed into one of his baggiest shirts and settled down to sleep, or at least pretend to sleep. His body lay heavy and still, but his mind spun on, totally lucid. He was still wide awake behind shut eyelids when the door opened and light steps moved to the foot of his bed. Eiji didn't move. He was supposed to be asleep, after all. He'd committed to that. Several minutes passed before he heard the familiar thump-creak of Ankh ascending to his perch, and only then did he let himself roll over and drift off.
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