Work Text:
A lot could change in five years.
Hinata was in a reflective mood, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. The driver of the truck wasn’t much for conversation, and Hinata didn’t want to distract him from navigating the treacherous cracks and pits in the pavements, so he had nothing to do but stare out the window at the countryside. It was green, startling green, dazzlingly green; all new growth, weeds and vines twining around the blasted metal frames that had once been people’s homes and businesses.
The world was rebuilding itself. Certain people would definitely call it a hopeful sight. And Hinata knew for a fact that progress was being made.. Sure there were killings what felt like every other day, outbursts of senseless violence, but they at least made the news instead of going completely unnoticed.
Naegi said that there was nothing to worry about, that these were just the last death throes of despair, and Hinata wanted to believe him.
But hey, progress was being made. He wasn’t wearing a gas mask; the air was more or less breathable across most of Japan. That was a downright miracle, considering how bad things had been just a few years ago. Calling it a miracle was a sure-fire way to get Souda ranting, though. Those air filtration systems hadn’t appeared out of thin air, he would say. He and his team of engineers and scientists had worked themselves to the bone for years developing the technology and you’d think saving the entire planet from slow suffocation would at least be worth a first date but that wasn’t as sexy as strutting around on the street with a suit and a badge and friggin’ glorified megaphone—
Souda might be full of it, but he did work hard. They all did. The world still needed the Future Foundation and the Future Foundation still had far too few trustworthy agents. Hinata had risen high enough in the ranks that he was now spending a disgusting amount of time at his desk, dealing with bureaucracy, but human lives still hung in balance. It was often his decision where to allocate aid, when to authorize use of deadly force, who to promote and where to send them, and when he fucked up, which he still did, all the fucking time, but there wasn’t exactly anyone else waiting around to do his job--
A vein pulsed in Hinata’s forehead, and he wondered if Naegi might have had a point. Not that Hinata would ever admit it. He was still deeply unhappy with Naegi, mostly for having the gall to look genuinely apologetic and concerned when he broke the news that Hinata was about to take a two week “voluntary leave of absence.”
“I’m fine,” Hinata had told him. Repeatedly. To no avail.
“Well, according to the results of your latest physical…you’re actually not fine at all,” Naegi had said, with iron behind his mild smile. “Even though you’re still young, that doesn’t mean you can just ignore your health. Those blood pressure numbers would be really worrying even if you were twice your age.”
“How the hell do you know what my blood pressure is?”
“All your medical records get forwarded to me automatically. I mean, Hinata-kun, I understand why you don’t want to leave, but…If you collapse from exhaustion, or worse, that’s pretty counter-productive, isn’t it? I promise headquarters will still be standing when you get back.” Sometimes Hinata forgot exactly what kind of organization he was working with, and that privacy laws were an artifact of the good old days. Naegi had even confiscated his cell phone, and when Hinata had tried to protest that it was outside his authority--
“The extent of my authority is actually kind of scary,” Naegi had said, still smiling. “But it’s really better for this to all be voluntary on paper. It’ll be easier for both of us, Hinata-kun.”
Yeah, a lot could change in five years. At some point, Naegi had become kind of a hardass—maybe Kirigiri was rubbing off on him.
There had been a lot of negotiation. Naegi had wanted to send him to Okinawa, but Hinata would be happy if he never saw another beach for the rest of his life, and there was no way in hell he was going anywhere more than a few hours away. Eventually, they’d settled on a solution that was at least somewhat acceptable. Hinata was going to kill two birds with one stone, and pay an old friend a visit.
Were they even friends? Hinata had to wonder. Hanamura was well settled in his post at his old home town, but he still checked into headquarters. Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama were deep undercover, collecting information on some seriously nasty criminal elements, but they still managed to keep communications open. Hell, Sonia had what was left of a country to look after and she’d stopped by for a visit just last month. Tanaka, on the other hand, was apparently perfectly happy to run off and play farmer or zookeeper or whatever else for years on end with barely a word to anyone. In the end, it seemed like he really did prefer the company of animals to human beings.
The truck turned off the bumpy pavement and onto an even bumpier dirt path, straining along uphill at a snail’s pace. There were young trees planted all along the path, thick and close together…the beginnings of a forest, maybe. They had to be getting close, and Hinata began to steel himself. Maybe there was a reason Hinata had never exactly chased after Tanaka for all these years. He was going to have to confront reality…but maybe getting some closure on this loose end would take his blood pressure down a few notches.
He’d proven that Tanaka was a murderer. He’d watched Tanaka die with a sense of overpowering numbness, unable to move or make a sound, while Sonia sobbed into her hands beside him.
Then there had been the long days and the long nights sitting beside the coffin-like pods, checking to make sure Tanaka was still breathing, staring at the light that indicated he was still living until his eyes were blurry, too afraid to even blink in case it happened again. Not just for Tanaka, of course. For everyone that lay sleeping, until the first of them started to wake up.
Sonia had been the one sitting at his side when Tanaka finally woke up. He’d bitten her when she tried to hug him. He’d bitten Hinata dozens of times while Hinata just tried to make sure he got enough fluids to stay alive, dammit--
He still had faint scars, up and down his arms. How freaking fitting. His arms had been almost as heavily bandaged as Tanaka’s for a while.
Eventually, Tanaka had recovered his senses…more or less. Well, everyone was in agreement now that dark lord was much preferable to feral dog. But just like everyone else who’d died in the simulation, his memory was full of holes. He’d gradually remembered who everyone was and that they weren’t his enemies or his prey or whatever he’d thought they were when he was sinking his teeth into them. In yet another sick joke, he remembered holding a gun to his own head, and remembered trussing up Nidai and leaving him to die, and he remembered being trampled into the dust.
Of course he remembered those damn hamsters, or as he called them, “worthy heroic spirits called back from the abyss,” and once he was strong enough to stand he built a little pyre for them on the beach, near the two driftwood grave markers Hinata had made. Then he’d demanded everyone attend the funeral service, although of those awake and moving only Hinata and Sonia had shown up. Hinata probably should have been offended by the whole production, but watching it burn had actually made things seem just a bit better when he was at a pretty low point.
But at any rate, most of the details about the island were gone and not about to come back. So Hinata would be a real idiot to hold out even the faintest hope that over the years, Tanaka might have come to remember…that. He was not only an idiot, he was a selfish idiot. It hadn’t gone anywhere or meant anything. Hinata had just been forcing his own feelings onto someone who was too socially stunted to even get what was going on—he’d probably thought they were exchanging mana through their spit or something. If Tanaka did remember it would only be awkward and uncomfortable.
Really, he knew absolutely zero about Tanaka’s private life since he’d broken off from the Future Foundation headquarters. Maybe Tanaka was happily married to some equally off-the-wall zoologist or cosplayer or princess of a minor nation or whatever his type was. They were at that age and the end of the world had a way of encouraging everyone to tie the knot and get reproducing. He’d attended three weddings in just the past year, and he was happy for everyone, genuinely happy for them, just brimming with hope and good cheer at watching all his classmates find love with each other and definitely not a petty, jealous asshole—shit, there went that pulsing vein again.
When the truck finally jolted to a stop and the driver cut the engine, Hinata really was prepared for anything. He hopped out and took a look at Tanaka’s abode. It wasn’t much—a few barn-like structures, cobbled together out of wood and sheet metal, and a small greenhouse. To be expected, really. Most of the Future Foundation’s resources were reserved for actual humans, so Tanaka was pretty much on his own.
“Hey, could you help me unload?” the driver asked, shifting uncomfortably. “You don’t really want to linger in the open around here.”
“What? Why not?” Hinata asked, although maybe avoiding any chance of getting caught in conversation with Tanaka was reason enough.
“I don’t know if I really understand him,” the man said. “But it seems like Tanaka-san has some kind of…uh, ethical objection to fences.”
“What does that—Oh.” Hinata joined the driver in unloading crates of supplies from the back of the truck, but he kept glancing over his shoulders. He’d been imagining animals like…well, hamsters of course, dogs, maybe goats or horses since he had the space. But he really shouldn’t underestimate Tanaka.
Especially since no matter where Hinata looked, he saw no animals whatsoever.
Which didn’t mean they weren’t there. It just meant he couldn’t see them.
Something bumped against the back of his leg, and he startled, nearly dropped the crate he was holding straight onto his foot. Hinata twisted and looked down—meeting the eyes of a perfectly normal, bob-tailed calico cat, which mewed and nuzzled his leg again. Man, he was starting to get kind of paranoid. He crouched down and gave her a pat.
“Hmmm. So you have met with the approval of the Watcher of the Roads. Be glad, for she is quick to rend the flesh of strange men.”
Hinata whipped his head back up. There was Tanaka, trotting right up with two German Shepherds right at his heels.
It was funny. A lot could change over five years. But Hinata had never once even considered that Tanaka might have changed. There he was—same ridiculous clothes, same ridiculous hair, same ridiculous sneer. The only real difference from the Tanaka Hinata had known in the simulation were the bandages wrapped around the right side of his face, covering his missing eye.
“Hey,” Hinata said, rather lamely. “It’s…been a while, huh.”
“Nearly half a century, in the years of beasts,” said Tanaka, but he appeared distracted, passing Hinata without pausing on the way to the truck. Hinata and the driver both watched in silence as he solemnly held his hand over the head of both dogs in turn, muttering something. Then he nodded, and the dogs hopped into the empty back of the truck.
“With that, these two are released from my service, and free to seek other masters,” Tanaka announced gravely, possibly to the driver, or no one in particular. “Ferry them to their destination without harm, porter, or wrathful ghosts shall enact vengeance thousandfold!”
“They’ll be safe with me,” the driver said wearily, offering Tanaka a pad and a pen. “Could you sign for the delivery, please? Thank you. Have a nice day, Tanaka-san.”
“Pah. Is there nothing that does not require my seal?”
Before leaving, the driver raised his eyebrows and gave Hinata a significant look. Hinata understood his meaning. This was his last chance to get away before he was trapped for the next two weeks on a farm with a maniac and a bunch of possibly dangerous animals. Hinata couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted, but…he’d made his decision. He watched the truck leave along with Tanaka, the calico cat wending between both of their legs.
“Why’d you send the dogs off?” Hinata asked, just to make conversation. He hadn’t exactly been expecting a warm welcome, but Tanaka was practically ignoring him.
“They have keen noses for the scents of men,” Tanaka murmured, and heaved a sigh. “They were born to scour the most treacherous of crags and ruins for the lost, the hunted…and the dead. I must release them to chase that fate.”
“Oh, so they’re like…search and rescue dogs,” said Hinata. Well, Tanaka was still at least nominally working for the Future Foundation, so they had to be getting something out of him. Maybe that was why he was a bit subdued—for Tanaka, saying good-bye to a dog was probably kind of like saying good-bye to a kid.
“So,” Tanaka said, gathering himself. He folded his arms, and cast Hinata a rather cold look. “What purpose has brought you here?”
“Didn’t you get Naegi’s message?” Hinata asked. “He said that you said it was fine. That you had a free bed.”
“I did converse with the Vessel of Hope.”
“Naegi? Just clarifying, the Vessel of Hope is Naegi?” Hinata was long out of practice at translating Tanaka-speech into regular Japanese.
“Who else would be worthy of such a title? At his request, I have opened gates of the Tanaka Kingdom to you …but he spoke of your purpose only in veiled insinuations, as is his cunning way. Let it be known: if you have come with treacherous intentions in your heart, extinguish them at once or be gone from this place.”
“It’s called a visit, Tanaka,” said Hinata. Oh yes, this was really going to help him stave off that looming heart attack. “I had to get out of the city, and this was as good as any place to go.”
“You have taken flight, then? Ah, I should have guessed at once. Yours is the pallor of the hunted.”
“I’m not—you know what, yeah. Naegi won’t let me back in the office until the two weeks are up, so I’d really like it if you let me uh, take refuge. In your kingdom.” It was probably better to just play along. Hinata wasn’t exactly ready to give up the real explanation, and ‘Naegi’s forcing me to take a vacation because he thinks I’m killing myself with work and he could possibly be almost right about that’ was probably a bit beyond Tanaka’s realm of comprehension.
“Very well. There may be some drudgery that even a mortal might be trusted with, so that you might earn your keep,” said Tanaka. “Come, then. You may enter my domain…though it would be wise for you to watch yourself when you pass through the entry portal. Such boundaries are fraught with danger.”
Hinata discovered exactly what Tanaka meant by that when he stepped through the doorway to one of the barns, and a screeching monkey dropped straight down onto his head.
---
The next few days at “The Tanaka Kingdom” were full of lessons to be learned.
There were two monkeys. Both of them seemed to the part of his hair that stuck up infinitely fascinating. Hinata learned to keep an eye on the ceilings.
There were at least twenty cats. Probably more, since Hinata just counted the ones that were easy to recognize: one missing an eye, one with a ragged tail, one with a torn ear... A few were friendly, and most kept their distance. A few took every opportunity to try to hamstring him whenever he passed by despite absolutely no provocation. Hinata learned to keep an eye on the floor when he wasn’t watching the ceiling.
There were numerous birds of every size and color roosted in the rafters of every room. Another reason to keep his eyes on the ceiling.
There were hordes of snakes and lizards in the greenhouse, concealed within the leaves until he noticed the glittering eyes staring out at him…or until a massive black snake decided to slither over his foot. Hinata learned not to go into the greenhouse.
There was a creature Hinata that Tanaka referred to as “the Night Tigress” and Hinata wasn’t going to bet on how literal that name was even though it was a 90% chance that it was just an orange cat. He sometimes heard the sound of heavy breathing in the stillness of the night, which was probably just one of the dogs…but Hinata still wasn’t going to bet on it. He learned a route to the bathroom which kept his back pressed against a wall at all times.
There was definitely not a spouse hiding anywhere on the premises, and it had been awfully stupid for Hinata to think that was anywhere within the realm of possibility. Already a loner, Tanaka had, if anything, gotten weirder. Hinata had expected to be subject to plenty of rants while he was here, but Tanaka almost never spoke unless he was spoken to and was often quite curt. He was always startling at Hinata’s presence like one of his cats, sometimes deigning to make a flustered and nonsensical comment about impudent mongrels, sometimes just giving Hinata a glare of consternation. It was like he repeatedly forgot that Hinata was still around. Hinata, for his part, learned to make plenty of noise with his footsteps.
Tanaka’s jumpiness wasn’t exactly the only clue that something was kind of amiss. The free bed turned out to be a futon in a dingy back room—but that was the only bed in the entire place, and the room was otherwise almost empty. Where did Tanaka keep his dorky pentacles or his books of magic or…well, the kind of personal possessions you started building up over the years, no matter how frugal you were? All other space was devoted purely to the animals.
All of Tanaka’s time was devoted to the animals as well. With Hinata there to take some of the load off (Tanaka wasn’t exactly shy about setting Hinata to work feeding and brushing and tossing sticks), he should have at least caught Tanaka relaxing once or twice. Instead, he was either working with fanatical intent or dead asleep, with maybe a dog for a pillow if he was lucky. The idiot was going to catch a cold, or wake up with fleas, or something if he kept that up. Hinata wanted to drag him bodily into a bed, but he doubted that would go over well at all.
“Where did all these animals come from, anyway?” Hinata asked him at one point. “Do you go out collecting them, or…?”
“They were cast aside by those they once served,” Tanaka replied. “Or born without a master or a hearth to call their own. Some find their way here by their own strength. Others are aided along their way by the World Destroyers. It matters not how they come.”
So every time some soft-hearted member of the Future Foundation came back from a mission with a puppy or a kitten they just couldn’t stand to leave behind…it eventually found its way to Tanaka. And for Tanaka, saying no probably wasn’t an option. Even if he trained some of the dogs and sent them back to the Future Foundation…the math was still skewed. Tanaka was already in over his head, so how long would it be before he was outright drowning in “beasts?”
Hinata wasn’t exactly in any position to judge. Tanaka’s dedication was admirable, and it wasn’t Hinata’s place to interfere with how a supposedly grown man lived his life.
But Hinata was starting to suspect that part of the reason Tanaka never visited headquarters was that if he left even for a day or two, his teetering kingdom might collapse entirely. Why didn’t he have any assistants, at least, or disciples, like he’d claimed to have on the island? Things were stable enough that Hinata found it hard to believe there would be absolutely no volunteers.
It would all have been okay if Tanaka had looked happy. Sure, he doted on all the animals, and Hinata didn’t doubt that he adored them. But there was an almost strained quality about him. When Hinata personally witnessed Gundam Tanaka dangling a feather for a kitten without any malevolent laughter or other indications of actual enjoyment, he knew something was seriously rotten in the Tanaka Kingdom.
Hinata saved his most uncomfortable questions for dinner on the fifth day, slipping one in as casually as he could between sips of Tanaka’s surprisingly good vegetable soup.
“Tanaka…when was the last time Sonia’s been by here, anyway?” The last time Sonia had visited the Future Foundation headquarters, she hadn’t said anything about Tanaka in particular, but Hinata had taken it as a matter of course that she’d stopped by to talk to him while she was in Japan. But if she’d seen the state of this place, and the state Tanaka was in…Hinata couldn’t imagine her deciding to keep quiet and not interfere.
“The Dark Queen must concern herself with matters of her own realm,” said Tanaka quietly. “We exchange tidings, on occasion.”
“Sure she’s busy, but…she has come to see you in person? Right?”
“She has never set foot in this place,” said Tanaka, with clear reluctance. “And for good reason. Although her powers are significant…they might not be enough for her to resist the curse.” He was avoiding Hinata’s gaze—that must have sounded pretty lame, even for him. Hinata wasn’t going to let him go that easily.
“What curse?” he asked flatly. “What did you tell her?”
“It is none of your concern.” Tanaka retreated in his scarf.
“How is it not my concern if the place is haunted or whatever?”
“Hmph. Since your body as of yet shows no sign of the rot, you are probably somewhat resistant. The first warning sign will be when your fingers begin to drop off.”
“Well, I am a special human. You exchanged some of your power with me. I don’t think the curse is going to do a thing,” Hinata said, and Tanaka looked taken off guard—bringing up things he didn’t recall doing was probably unfair, but Hinata was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.
“Yes, your power, such as it is,” Tanaka muttered, fidgeting uncomfortably. “You do bear the signs of it. But your bloodline is still mortal. It will not be long before you, too, must leave my realm. Or the consequences shall be…dire indeed.” With this pronouncement, Tanaka rose and attempted to make a dramatic exit, but was foiled by a pack of affectionate cats. The time Tanaka wasted trying to navigate to the door without stepping on any paws or tails was all the time Hinata needed to pursue. They were abandoning the soup, but one more thing that Hinata had learned was that around here, unattended food didn’t exactly go to waste.
“I’m not going to let you get away with this,” said Hinata. Tanaka had made it outdoors, but Hinata was hot on his heels, and soon had him cornered against a wall.
“Cease your spewing of hollow clichés, do-gooder,” Tanaka snapped. “And leave me to my callous solitude.”
“I can’t do that,” said Hinata. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m not going to let you become a damn hermit. Look, Tanaka. I get it, I get that you’re a friend to the animals and all that, but every kind of animal needs to be with its own kind sometimes. Don’t push Sonia away.” Don’t push me away, he wanted to add, but he really had no right.
“That is false. There are many beasts that meet only for brief and pasionless union. And there are many more who, in a time of need, would devour their own companions and kin.” Tanaka’s grim half-smile flashed in the darkness. “Would you extend your false compassion even to such cannibals?”
“Is that what this is about, then?” Hinata asked. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he was—Tanaka took himself so damn seriously beneath all the bluster. “Look. I’m not going to say whether what you did was right or wrong, but if someone hadn’t acted…we would have all starved to death anyway. Nidai’s none the worse for wear, so I don’t see why you should keep torturing yourself about it years later.”
Tanaka’s shoulders were trembling, and he was no longer keeping up the pretense of leaning casually against the wall.
“If only!” Tanaka snarled. “If only sin was that easy to wash away. You have beheld the beasts gathered here, Hinata! Have you not noticed the scars upon their flanks, the wariness of men that remains in their eyes? All my doing, for it was my own crazed acts that helped to bring the mortal realm into this wretched state! Innocent blood falls upon me as a cursed rain, corrupting the very earth and air wherever I might dwell! Such is my curse, and yet you dare speak to me of blame and forgiveness? As if mere murder were the only crime to blacken my already midnight black soul!”
“Whoa—Tanaka! Calm down!” Hinata held up his hands, but there was no stopping Tanaka once he was this fired up, and Hinata eventually gave up trying to get a word in edgewise. Anyway, it was almost heartening to see that he hadn’t exactly lost his touch for grandstanding.
“Forgiveness is but a gilded token. What of those who will never be able to forgive? The only true currency in this world or any other is sacrifice. That is the law of equivalent exchange! And I might toil for centuries on end without repaying the debt I have incurred against this planet.” Although they might be cloaked in Tanaka’s usual obscurity, and he certainly wasn’t passing up the opportunity to strike a noble, dramatic pose, it seemed like Tanaka was finally speaking his real feelings. Infuriating as they were.
“Well if you’re blackened with sin, what does that make me?” Hinata asked. “Why are you so special? Why are you the one who gets to be the martyr? You were a pawn and I was the fucking trigger.”
“That was not you,” said Tanaka, deflating somewhat. “You were…like one possessed.”
“What difference does it make?” Hinata demanded.
“I remember Izuru Kamukura,” said Tanaka. “He was not you. He simply wore your face.”
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter when people are dead because of me,” said Hinata, his voice hitching. It was kind of funny. Hinata would have put himself out of his misery before he ever started using words like “rain of blood” or “equivalent exchange,” but he and Tanaka really were the exact same sort of miserable bastard, except now Hinata was crying and Tanaka wasn’t, so he was probably even more miserable.
No one blamed Hinata for what Izuru Kamukura had done… not in front of him, anyway. It had been years since he’d so much as heard that fucking name. That didn’t stop the whispers that he still heard in his dreams. You may save thousands, but you murdered millions. You may save millions, but what does it matter when you stood there and let her die for you? What does it matter when he never woke up?
So he’d buried himself in his work. Declined invitations to go out drinking with Mioda and Owari. Brushed off Koizumi’s attempts at matchmaking. Clapped politely at wedding after wedding. Never even bothering to check in with Tanaka for five fucking years. Wallowed in his own loneliness even while he was surrounded by people.
“I do get it,” Hinata babbled, his chest heaving. “Nothing we do is ever going to be good enough. We can try to move on and we can try to do good but we’re never going to deserve…anything better than this…” He couldn’t manage to get out what he actually wanted to say, though: that hearing Tanaka say the same things that Kamukura’s voice said to him was unbearable. They couldn’t both go on like this. Wasn’t one of them more than enough?
Tanaka was staring at Hinata in blank, wide-eyed astonishment. Apparently he was at a loss for words. Speechless, Tanaka was unable to weave the barriers he used to keep others at a distance, and that was probably what lead Hinata to do something very stupid. He just kind of—let himself fall forward. Onto Tanaka.
Tanaka’s scarf was really soft, even though it smelt like dog. It felt good. Since Tanaka wasn’t yelling at him or shoving him away yet, it was really only natural for Hinata to bury his face in it. And to get a good angle for that, he had to wrap his arms around Tanaka’s midsection and squeeze as hard as he could. He had no other choice.
“Um…hmm…it’s okay. Good, good. You’re all right,” Tanaka muttered, and patted the top of Hinata’s head lightly.
“Shut up. I’m not one of your damn animals,” Hinata choked into the folds of the scarf, but he was secretly grateful that Tanaka, at least, wasn’t freaking out. Tanaka kept his hand on top of Hinata’s head and Hinata was grateful for that too. For a while he let himself enjoy the warmth of the scarf, and, if he was going to be totally honest with himself, the firmness of Tanaka’s chest beneath the scarf. But he could only indulge himself for so long, and he drew away once he had enough self-control to stop sniveling. He would feel bad for getting tears and snot all over Tanaka’s scarf, but it had probably seen a lot worse.
“Sorry,” Hinata muttered anyway, trying to catch his breath. “That was really, really…” Immature? Inappropriate? Satisfying? “I’m sorry. I know you don’t exactly like getting all touchy-feely.”
“Why do you…seek forgiveness? Do you think that…my barriers would have permitted such contact if it were unwanted? F-fool…” It might be dark, but Hinata could still see that Tanaka’s face had about the same color and luminosity of a stoplight. Because it was Tanaka, Hinata had wondered if it was possible to pass that hug off as platonic, but even Tanaka wasn’t totally clueless.
“It still wasn’t fair,” Hinata said, and sighed. He had more to say—it was a night for confessions. However, while he was avoiding Tanaka’s gaze, he looked out into the night. A pair of golden eyes gleamed back. Very large eyes. Pretty far off the ground, too. “Uh, Tanaka?”
“Ah,” Tanaka said, forgetting his embarrassment almost instantly. “There she is. You are fortunate indeed—it is a rare human indeed who sees the Night Tigress and lives to tell the tale.”
“Yeah, it’s the living to tell the tale that I’m kind of--“
“Oh, if she wished you harm, you would have long since departed your mortal coil. I imagine the way you were caterwauling aroused her maternal instincts.”
“Well, could you tell her thank you but that I don’t need any mothering?”
“If you so insist.” Tanaka stepped forward, towards the unblinking eyes, and Hinata took the opportunity to escape inside, from both the tiger and his own humiliation. He waited up for a long while, but when Tanaka didn’t reappear, Hinata eventually retired to the futon along with several concerned-looking cats.
“Your master,” he told them, although he doubted it came as shocking news, “is fucking ridiculous.”
And I’m just as bad.
--
Hinata knew it was only a matter of time before he had to bite the bullet and be honest with Tanaka—if that shouting match had taught him anything, it was that keeping everything bottled up inside was going to lead to more unpleasantness down the line. It would have been awfully nice if he could have shed those tears five years ago and have been done with it. So at breakfast the next morning, when Tanaka turned up with leaves and orange fur in his hair, acting as if absolutely nothing was unusual, Hinata forced himself to say it first.
“Tanaka,” he said. “There’s something I need to tell you, so can you sit down and actually listen properly?”
“That depends,” said Tanaka amiably, “on whether your lips speak sweet truth…or spout nothing but a fountain of frothing lies.”
“Yeah, all right, thank you. It’s about last night.” As if a switch had been flipped, Tanaka’s pale face flooded with color, but Hinata ignored him. “First, I’m sorry. Again. And second, I know it probably seemed totally out of the blue, but it actually kind of wasn’t.”
“Why do you obfuscate your true meaning?” Tanaka muttered. “Only honorless mongrels speak in circles such as you do.”
“Oh, shut up. What I’m getting at is that when we are on the island, I mean, when we were in the simulation. When we were shut up in the funhouse. We were all stressed, emotions were running pretty high, and the two of us…as teenagers tend to do, we got a little…frisky.”
“Of course. Like hellhounds, released at long last from hated bonds to frolic on the open plains of Gehenna.”
“No, not like—well, kind of like—agh, Tanaka, we kissed, okay? Nothing more, nothing less. But what I’m really getting at is that, I might be dealing with some baggage about that, and it’s nothing to do with you really, and I wouldn’t even be saying this, except it’s not fair for you to not even know it ever happened while I’m still projecting all over you.” It felt surprisingly good, getting it all out in the open. Taking control of his emotions and expressing them in a calm and rational manner so that they could be dealt with.
Across the table, Tanaka’s head had almost entirely disappeared within his scarf.
“W-what exactly…” came his muffled voice. “leads you to assume that my memories of this encounter were lost?”
“Because you never—wait a second. You can’t possibly mean…” Hinata gaped across the table.
“Know this, mortal.” Tanaka peered at him over his scarf with his single baleful eye. “Even a thorough dousing in the River Styx and the all the violent throes of reincarnation would not cause Gundam Tanaka to simply forget his…f-first kiss!”
“Then why did you never say a word about it?” Hinata demanded, although the answer was pretty readily apparent: you never actually asked. Dammit. Just when he thought he had everything perfectly under control.
“Because there was no cause to revive such a poisonous memory,” said Tanaka, and Hinata winced.
“…It was that bad?”
“I was not speaking of myself,” Tanaka muttered. “Any pleasure you felt from the union was surely tainted by the betrayal that followed. All verbal contracts and vows were rendered void by my death. Is this…a misapprehension?” What appeared to be genuine confusion written across his face, and something in Hinata snapped.
“Yeah,” Hinata said. “A misapprehension is one thing you could call it. Tanaka, I was half in love with you, and you getting yourself killed to save all our asses wasn’t about to put a dent in it. You know what did? Five fucking years without a single word!”
“Forgive me if I did not wish to cast an unwelcome pall over your banal human life,” said Tanaka, but he sounded…almost uncertain. Hinata paused for a breath of air and a moment’s thought. Honestly, the person he wanted to shout at most was himself. Tanaka was the one who’d been raised by wolves or demons or way over-permissive parents or whatever the explanation was for his personal damage. Hinata had no such excuse, but he’d honestly believed that Tanaka would have made plenty of noise if he was unhappy with the way things were.
Somehow, Hinata had forgotten that no matter how demanding Tanaka could get, he’d pretty much always forced Hinata to make the first move. Call it shyness or animal wariness or some other far less flattering words, but Tanaka was always waiting for encouragement, and it was only natural that when Hinata drew away from him, he’d assumed he was completely unwanted.
Which had probably done wonders for whatever guilt had already been brewing.
They were both morons.
“When you arrived at this place it seemed as if all my suspicions were confirmed. You came to me as a last resort, only wishing to escape the wrath of the Vessel of Hope. Was this…also a misapprehension?” asked Tanaka carefully.
“Yes,” said Hinata, his shoulders slumping. “I thought the exact same way you did. That you were happier on your own. Better off without me.”
“You thought…the exact same thing?” Tanaka asked, looking taken aback. “Perhaps…but no…could this really be a true telepathic connection?”
“I doubt it,” said Hinata. It was probably because they were both morons.
“But the question remains…what does this signify?” Tanaka mused. “Are we merely wiling away a few more seconds of your short mortal life with bitter reminiscences? Or is there some underlying meaning that lies just beyond our grasp?” He was giving Hinata a very significant look. Still waiting for him to make the first move.
For once, Tanaka was actually asking the right question. There had to be more to this whole debacle than just adding a few more mistakes to Hinata’s long, long list of them. He couldn’t roll back the clock five years and ask Tanaka the right questions when the time was still ripe, any more than he could resurrect the truly dead or stop his past self from deciding that real talent was worth self-obliteration. Atonement was impossible and forgiveness was just a cheap consolation prize.
If he listened though, if he really listened, he could hear a small voice telling him to keep facing forward, and building his own future. And another one, even smaller, telling him to shred his list of regrets and throw the pieces on a funeral pyre.
“Well,” Hinata said, pursing his lips. “I have kind of thought of some things to do, moving forward.”
“Fascinating,” said Tanaka. “So thoughts can take root even in the shallow, rocky soil of the mortal mind?”
“As soon as I get back to headquarters, I’m going to hire you some help. And I don’t think it’ll be that hard to get you a bit more budget if I put together a report on animal preservation as a means of cultivating hope. If I can get Naegi to throw his weight around a little, it’s basically a done deal. As long as you don’t scare them off or let them get eaten, which you're not going to do.”
“…What?” That had clearly not been what Tanaka was anticipating.
“Yeah, yeah, you have no need of mortal minions—save it, Tanaka. It’s for the animals, too. And after that…well, it’s not going to be nearly as easy. Let’s see, Koizumi and Tsumiki are honeymooning in China and Saionji’s going to take pretty careful handling and who even knows where that one guy is, but give me a month, two month tops, and I can get everybody back in Japan at the same time. When they are, we’re having a class reunion. Attendance mandatory.” Hinata was doing his absolute best to keep a straight face, but it was getting more and more difficult. Tanaka’s face was a very interesting shade of puce.
“What? You dare even attempt to compel Gundam Tanaka to—“
“Well, before you start worrying about that, you should probably be worrying about Sonia. When I tell her you’ve been purposefully avoiding her with that nonsense about a curse, my guess is that she’s probably going to do a pretty good avenging angel impression.”
“Impudent mongrel, even your bones shall be nothing but dust after I—“
“But there’s also the short term to think about,” Hinata continued, and then took a deep breath. He’d managed to keep his face blank, but his heart was still throbbing in his chest. “Here’s the facts. When we were sixteen or so, or at least when we thought we were sixteen or so, we kissed in a funhouse. We both remember doing it and I don’t think either of us thought it was all that horrible, but for some reason we’ve both been avoiding each other for the past five years. And here’s the question: what do we have to lose by doing it again?”
“…Nothing?” Tanaka asked. He’d gone very red again.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” said Hinata. “So come here.”