●・○・●・○・●
CHAPTER NINETEEN,
composed, sort of

—

༇ KAEDE walks into the boxing club with a grin on his face so bright it doesn't belong in a place like this.

Dust floats in. The muffled thumps of fists hitting punching bags echo off the walls. Kaede doesn't care. He barely hears them. His mind is still replaying Hana's voice—"If we're not married by thirty, do you wanna just marry each other?"

He runs his hand through his hair and heads toward the ring, where Shirabi is wrapping his hands. He looks up when Kaede approaches.

"You're late, Arisu," Shirabi says. "Also, you're smiling like an idiot. What happened?"

Kaede tosses his bag down beside the bench and starts taping up his own hands. "Nothing. Just had a good day yesterday."

Shirabi squints at him. "Don't lie to me. You look like someone just told you you're the chosen one."

Kaede can't stop the grin from breaking wider across his face. "She broke up with him and said if we're not married by thirty, we're marrying each other."

"Hana?"

"Who else?"

Shirabi lets out a long whistle. "After seven years, I'm proud of your accomplishment." He smacks him on the shoulder. "All right, all right. Come on. Let's see if all that joy made you soft."

They step into the ring. Kaede bounces on the balls of his feet, shaking his arms loose, his muscles vibrating. He's practically floating.

Shirabi squares up, mouthguard tucked in, gloves raised. Kaede mirrors him. Shirabi throws the first jab. Kaede deflects it easily. He dances around the ring, energized. Everything feels right. The air on his skin. The way the mat gives slightly under him. Even the pain waiting behind Shirabi's punches feels right.

His footwork is better than usual. The frustration that sometimes bleeds into his sparring is gone tonight. For years, he's fought with that tight knot in his chest, fought to forget her when she was with Kiyoshi, fought to distract himself when he felt too much.

He lands another hit. Shirabi grunts and stumbles back, smiling through it. "All right, okay. Let's call it before I lose a tooth."

The third round ends with a few friendly taps. Kaede pulls his gloves off and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, chest heaving, but the grin still doesn't fade.

"You look high," Shirabi says, tossing him a water bottle.

"I feel high."

"I'll never get it," his friend mutters. "You guys spend years torturing yourselves with all these what-ifs, and then she says one line and suddenly you're unstoppable."

"It wasn't just one line," Kaede replies. "It was everything."

Shirabi whistles again, then leans forward, elbows on knees. "So what now? You gonna ask her out?"

Kaede's face warms. "Not right away. I don't want it to feel like I've been waiting for her to break up just so I could pounce. I just want to keep being there. If it's meant to be, it'll come naturally."

"Look at you. All mature and patient."

"I've been patient for seven years, man."

"That's fair."

A year into their friendship, Shirabi knows everything about Kaede and Kaede knows everything about Shirabi. Shirabi knows more about Kaede than literally anyone else– he probably knows as much about Kaede, as Kaede knows about himself. They share everything. Every experience they've had, every disturbing moment, every conversation.

Shirabi now knows about how strange his parents act about his father, so they've made a mutual agreement that Shirabi's new name is Shindou. They could've chosen to call each other by their first names, but 'that's homo' according to Shirabi. So, Arisu and Shindou it is.

Sometimes, Kaede brings Shirabi over, but not often. His parents think he's just a boy from school who happens to be three years older than Kaede.

"You got anywhere to be tonight?" Shirabi asks, slinging his gym bag over one shoulder.

Kaede shakes his head. "Not really."

"Good. Come on."

"Where?"

"You'll see."

Kaede hesitates for a second, then follows. He trusts Shirabi. Shirabi never talks down to him. Never plays the older guy card unless Kaede's being a real idiot.

They walk for a while, through alleys and streets Kaede barely recognizes. At one point they cut through a park, past a convenience store, and eventually reach an older part of Tokyo.

Shirabi finally stops in front of a bar. Kaede raises an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Shirabi shrugs. "Relax. We're not drinking. Just meeting people."

"Meeting... people?"

"You're fifteen, Kaede. You act like you're thirty when you're brooding about your crush, but you still wear diapers when it comes to the world."

Kaede crosses his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shirabi just chuckles and guides him toward the side door, which leads not into the bar itself, but into a rooftop stairwell. They climb until they reach a wide rooftop, where a few older teens are gathered. There's music playing from someone's speaker. Two guys are smoking cigarettes. A girl waves at Shirabi as they approach.

Kaede's handed a bottle of iced tea that probably includes alcohol. He sets it aside. The girl also lights a cigarette and blows smoke upward. "So," she says, looking at Kaede, "what's your deal?"

He shrugs, awkward. "I box."

"That all?"

Shirabi answers for him. "He's a poet, too. But he hides it."

"Shut up," Kaede mutters.

"See?" Shirabi grins. "I got him a notebook for his birthday and he practically kissed me."

"Oh? Can I hear one of your poems?"

"No, sorry," Kaede responds stiffly.

An hour later, the rooftop has gotten quieter. The sun has dipped below the buildings. Kaede is now sipping the iced tea slowly, staring at the city in the distance.

Another guy is sitting near the ledge, his forearms covered in ink. Not just random designs, but real art. There's a raven on his left hand, wings spread across his knuckles. A snake coils around his forearm, disappearing into the sleeve of his T-shirt. Kaede can't help staring.

The guy notices. Raises a brow. "You good, kid?"

Kaede flushes, caught. "Yeah. Sorry. Your tattoos are just... cool."

That earns him a small smirk. The guy shifts slightly, letting Kaede get a better look at the artwork running up his arm. "You got a favorite?" he asks.

Kaede points to a smaller one near his elbow. A compass with four symbols Kaede doesn't recognize around it. "What do those mean?"

"Time, memory, death, and mercy," the guy replies. "It's a prayer. A weird one, but still."

Kaede looks up, fascinated. "Did you draw them yourself?"

"Most of them, yeah. I'm a tattoo artist."

Kaede's eyes light up. "That's sick. I've always wanted one. A bunch, actually. I just—" he pauses, "—I just gotta wait."

The guy raises an eyebrow. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Shit," he mutters, grinning. "Baby."

"I'm not a baby."

"Relax. I'm messing with you." He flicks the ashes off a cigarette and leans forward. "I freelance. Underground mostly. I take walk-ins and house calls."

"Do you tattoo minors?"

He studies Kaede for a beat, expression unreadable. "I can," he says slowly. "Not supposed to. But if you've got the cash and you're not dumb about it, I don't ask questions."

"Really?"

"Double the price, though. I take the risk, you pay for it."

Kaede processes that. The idea thrills him. But it's also... illegal. And his parents would kill him.

"But don't come to me for some basic ass infinity symbol, yeah? I only work with people who have real ideas."

"I have ideas. Not stupid ones."

"Sure you do." The guy smiles faintly. "If you're serious, I'll be back up here next weekend. Midnight. Bring cash. Think about what it means, not just how it looks."

Kaede swallows hard. "Okay. Do you have a business card? I think I'll wait until I'm at least sixteen."

"No, but I can give you my number."

●・○・●・○・●

Just a few weeks before summer vacation–nearly four weeks after Hana and Kiyoshi broke up (Chishiya wakes up with a smile everyday while Hana gets sad anytime she sees a leather jacket)— Kaoru invited Kaede over.

And now, just a few minutes before their hangout, Kaoru has texted Kaede, telling him he forgot he's supposed to pick Nozomi up from dancing class. Aguni, Ann, and Kuina don't like the idea of their fourteen-year-old having to bike through a city like Tokyo all alone, so Kaoru volunteered to go with her every week. He doesn't have anything better to do on Friday afternoons.

So Kaede sent Hana a text to ask if she wants to hang out instead. When she read he bought soda and candy, she immediately agreed.
Now he's his way back from the store, a bag of melon soda and candy dangling from one hand, as he sees a familiar silver head bent over a flower bed.

Kaede pauses. He thinks about walking straight past, but decides otherwise. "Evening, Shush."

Chishiya doesn't look up. "Mm."

"I didn't know you liked gardening."

"I don't," Chishiya replies dryly. "But all the other four members of my household do, so I'm being a decent provider."

There's a brief silence, filled by the soft snip of scissors and the occasional breeze rustling the petals. Kaede opens his bag and takes out a can of soda. He hesitates, then holds it out. "Want one?"

Chishiya raises an eyebrow at the drink like it personally insulted him. "No."

Kaede nods and puts it back.

"Tell me something," he says coolly. "Do you want to date my daughter?"

Kaede chokes on nothing, coughing into his sleeve. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I, uh—" Kaede rubs the back of his neck, cheeks flushing red. "I mean... I really care about her."

"So, yes."

"I didn't say that," Kaede replies quickly. "We're just close."

"Why are you here anyway?"

"Because Hana and I are going to hang out...?"

"Why?"

"Because... I asked her?"

"Why?"

"Because I... like hanging out with her?"

"Why?"

"Because she's... a copy of your wife, so that makes her very kind and fun to be around...?"

Chishiya pauses mid-snip.

"I mean, not to be weird or anything, but your Baya is really cool," Kaede blurts. "She's one of the coolest people I know. She's funny, and kinda scary in a good way? And she talks to me like I'm not stupid. I think that's nice. A lot of adults just nod at me and smile like I'm a baby."

Kaede thinks maybe he should stop, but then again, he's never seen the man not slightly irritated, so what's the risk, really?

"I think she's the kind of mom everyone wants. But also, I don't know how she ended up with you, no offense."

Chishiya finally looks at him fully.

Kaede freezes. He honestly expects a sarcastic comment. Possibly a threat to cut off his air supply.

Instead, Chishiya hums. "Hana's probably waiting. Go inside."

Kaede's mouth nearly drops open. He makes a mental note. Compliment Shush's wife to keep him friendly.

"Thank you, sir. Have a good evening, Shush." He bows down—

"For the love of God, never bow for me again, or call me 'sir' or 'Shush'. It's deeply unsettling. I'd rather you show up in front of me naked than have to see the top of your scalp again."

"My apologies."

"Talk like a normal teenage boy."

"Sorry," he mutters. "So I can go inside?"

"Don't make a mess," is all Chishiya says.

Kaede is sweating before he even rings the doorbell. He's convinced it's the heat. Or the l conversation with Chishiya. Or maybe the fact that he did an extra set of pull-ups this afternoon just in case Hana happened to brush his shoulder today. Just in case she noticed anything different about his arms. Just in case she, maybe, possibly, wanted to touch his bicep the way she once touched Kiyoshi's arm when she was still dating him.

But it's probably just the heat.

The door opens and he nearly passes out. Her hair tied up in a loose ponytail, strands falling against her cheek. She's wearing a giant T-shirt. It hangs off one shoulder. She's holding a popsicle in one hand.

"You're late."

Kaede stares directly at her nose because anywhere else would be criminal. "I had a delightful conversation with your father."

"Right," she teases, stepping aside. "Come in. Do you want tea or juice or something?"

"Juice is fine. Anything is fine. I'll drink, like, motor oil. If it's from you."

She laughs. He squeezes his arm to keep himself from saying more stupid things.

Hana pulls out two glasses from the cupboard, humming some melody under her breath that he immediately decides is his new favorite song.

"You okay?" she glances at him, opening the fridge with her foot.

"Yeah. Yeah, just, uh... your fridge opens real smooth."

"That's... an interesting observation." Hana nods. "Wanna go upstairs? I need your opinion on a few things."

"Sure," he peeps.

●・○・●・○・●

"So," Hana says, lying on her stomach across the bed, flipping through a magazine, "do you think I should dye my hair? Maybe something crazy, like blue? I liked the blue streaks I had when I was twelve."

Kaede is sitting on the floor, pretending to read a manga he hasn't turned a page of in fifteen minutes. "I think... I think you could pull off literally anything. Honestly, you could shave your head and I'd—I mean, it'd still look good."

She peers over the edge of the bed, amused. "You'd what?"

"Nothing," he blurts. "Just... it. The look. Not you. I mean, you too. But not in a weird way. In a normal, uh, human way."

She just stares.

He coughs.

She grins and flips another page.

Then she hums.

Kaede's spine straightens. Her hums are dangerous. Like, Chishiya-ish.

"What?"

"I was just thinking," she says casually, "you've grown up a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"You're just... taller, for one. And your face is sharper. Less babyish. You've got a jaw now." She gestures vaguely.

"Jaw," he repeats stupidly.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, okay, no, I... thank you?" he says, voice cracking, "I mean, I've had it since birth, but thanks for noticing recently."

She's laughing again. Her laugh is actual fuel to his soul. "Yeah, but you're still you. You're still kind. Still quiet and thoughtful and weirdly good at games. Like you don't even know how pretty you are."

"Pre—wait, me?"

"Yeah," she says, completely unbothered. "You're pretty, Kaede. Don't look so shocked."

Just like that, Kaede is halfway convinced they're already dating. They must be. Soulmates? Easy. Married by thirty? They'll be married by twenty.

"I'm not shocked," he lies. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it. Or, like, anyone to say it. Ever. I just have weird hands."

She sits up and eyes his hands. "What's weird about your hands?"

"They're... I don't know. Boy hands. Gross."

"I like them," she says simply.

"I... thanks, I—" He takes a deep breath.

"Do you do this with everyone?" she teases. "Panic when they compliment you?"

"I think so?"

She yanks the book out of his hands and tosses it to the floor.

"That was vintage."

"Read it later. Talk to me now," she says, leaning her chin into her hand and watching him.

He's melting. "What should we talk about?"

"How obsessed are you, on a scale from one to ten?"

"Obsessed with what?"

"Impressing my dad! He's probably eavesdropping right now, so you're trying to be extra kind and innocent."

"Oh... eh, yes? Indeed."

"It's okay, don't panic. And you can stop stuttering now. I already told Dad you like boys, and even though he didn't believe it, Mom did say it makes sense."

"You lied to your parents about me liking boys so... why, exactly?"

"Lied?" Hana repeats.

"Yeah?"

"Oh."

"What?"

"I thought you genuinely liked boys."

"What!" Kaede raises his voice. "No! Where did you get that from?"

"You never talk about girls and you just kind of give me those vibes. Nozomi even told me you said you're gay."

"I'm not," he says. "I'm not gay. I never said that. Nozomi is lying."

"It's okay, I'm not against it! I accept you."

"Hana, I'm not gay. I swear."

Hana squints at him for a long, suspicious second. "You really swear?" she says.

"On my life," he blurts. "On my collection of mangas. On my Switch. On my dog—wait, I don't have a dog. But if I did, I'd swear on that dog's life too."

She blinks. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Kaede exhales. "Good."

"Geez, you're dramatic."

"You falsely outed me to your parents!"

"They didn't really believe me," she shrugs. "Like I said, Mom might've. But she believes everyone's secretly queer. She thinks Dad's bi. Anyway, you can breathe again. I know you're not into boys now. You practically had a breakdown trying to clear it up. Poor thing." She nudges his leg with her foot. "I'm sorry, okay? It was just a joke."

Kaede nods. "It's okay. I'll just live with the trauma forever."

"Dramatic."

"I am." He tries to smile. "I blame poetry. My brain's all ruined with metaphors and stuff."

"Poetry?" Her eyes light up. "You've been writing?"

"A little," he admits, scratching the back of his neck. "Mostly dumb stuff. Not, like, real poetry."

"Read me something."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll laugh."

"I laugh at everything."

Kaede shrinks a little into himself, mumbling, "It's not, like, funny poetry."

She's already crawling over to his backpack. "Is it in here?"

"No!" he squeaks, lunging, but she's already faster. She unzips it with ease. "Hana, please—!"

"Relax, I won't read it out loud. Just... lemme see. Is this it?" She pulls out a notebook.

He gives up and collapses backward on the carpet. "Fine."

She flips through the pages quietly, her expression unreadable. He stares at the ceiling, trying not to do.

"You wrote one about the moon?"

Kaede covers his face with both hands. "Maybe."

"It's really pretty."

He peeks through his fingers. "You think?"

"I like the part where you said the moon is always watching but never judging." Her voice softens. "That's so... I don't know. Poetic, obviously." Hana hands him the notebook. "Thanks for letting me read it. You should totally continue writing."

"Really?"

"Yeah! It's good."

He blushes. Heavily. But Hana is already distracted and leans forward to grab something off her nightstand: a lip balm. She applies it without a second thought.

He swallows hard.

Hana raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing. Just... you have a mouth. I mean. Obviously. We all do. I just— I mean, it's... symmetrical. Or something."

Her smile spreads slowly, and Kaede tries to disappear into the floor. "Symmetrical," she repeats.

"Like in a biological way. Not like a creepy—I'm not looking at your lips—I mean I am, because you're applying stuff to them, but not in a way."

She bursts out laughing. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Like a human. Like a normal guy. A guy who notices things like... walls. Great walls. Nice paint. It's just such a well-painted wall."

She laughs so hard she has to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. She falls back onto her bed, clutching her stomach. Kaede just watches her, dazed.

"What did you need my opinion on?"

"Oh, right! Do you want to help me pick a necklace?"

"Definitely. Necklaces. I'm an expert. Neck...lace...ologist."

She laughs again and gets up, heading to her dresser. "I don't know if I should go for silver or gold. What do you think?" She turns back with two delicate necklaces in her palm.

Kaede stares at the divine vision. "I think you'd look good in anything," he blurts out. "Or nothing— I mean! Like, not nothing nothing, I meant you don't need jewelry to look good. Like, you look good already. Like, before you put it on. Not because I'm imagining you without it or anything. I'm not. Oh my God."

She just stands there, holding the necklaces. "You okay?" she asks sweetly.

"Totally. Thriving. Love it here."

She walks over and sits beside him again, holding the two options up near her neck. "Seriously. Which one?"

He squints hard, trying to think through the fog of her being close and smelling good and laughing at his agony. "Gold," he says finally.

"Kaede," she says, voice calm but amused.

"Yeah?"

"You're cute when you're like this."

He collapses sideways.

"Did you just faint?" she says, laughing.

"I've ascended," he mumbles into the carpet.

●・○・●・○・●

Kaede all but sprints across the street. He barely knocks before the door swings open and there stands Kuina, in all her relaxed glory: loose tank top, messy ponytail, iced coffee in one hand and a brow raised.

She takes a slow sip. "Let me guess. You said something stupid to Hana."

Kaede groans. "Stupid is putting it mildly. She put on a necklace and asked me what I thought. And I just kept on freaking out. I kept saying the wrong things! And then... I think I fainted for a moment? It was not okay. I might have a disorder!"

Kuina snickers. "Alright, alright. Let's fix you."

"Please," he mutters.

"Step one," she says, snapping her fingers, "breath control. You speak like someone's chasing you with a sword."

"I feel like someone's chasing me with a sword."

"Still." She points at him. "Slow it down. Speak from your chest, not your panic center. You're not stupid. You're not hopeless. You're just very, very into this girl. And that's fine. But we need to retrain your mouth before it betrays you again."

"Too late."

"She didn't run away screaming, right?"

He shifts. "No, but she said I was cute when I'm like this."

Kuina's eyes glint. "See? She likes it."

"She also might enjoy watching me suffer. Wonder where she got that from."

She grabs a pillow from the couch and throws it at him. "Pretend this is Hana. Say anything. But slow. And with confidence."

Kaede holds the pillow awkwardly. "Uh. Hey. You look good today. Not good good, just, like, fine. No! Not fine like—"

"Kaede."

"Okay. Reset." He breathes in again. "Hi, Hana," he says, slowly. "You look really nice in that necklace. I think gold suits you. Also, I would fight five bears to see you smile." He stares at her, panicked. "Was that too much?!"

She claps. "It was beautiful. Still unhinged, but poetic! That's your strength! So embrace that. Be the awkward romantic. Own it. If she already likes you, your chaos is part of the charm."

"She hasn't said she likes me," he says, voice going small. "She thought I was gay!"

"Oh." Kuina sighs. "Then you're doomed. If she thinks you're her gay best friend..."

"What am I supposed to do? How do I de-gay? Like, nothing against gays, but I'm not gay."

"Hey, if she thinks you're gay, at least she feels safe with you."

"Yeah, and that's the only benefit."

"Not true. She's likely to share a bed with you if she thinks you're gay."

"That's pervert-y."

Kuina taps her chin, thoughtful. "Hm... well, you're a great fighter, Kaede. If you could invite her to one of your matches..."

He lights up at that, but then frowns. Kuina is talking about his legal boxing matches, of course— but those are stupid. They follow way too many rules, are too slow, and just not as entertaining as the illegal ones. Plus, Kaede won't look cool beating a kid his age. He needs to beat a grown man or something.

"Wait. I can box against Shindou. He's three years older, so I'll look cool if I beat him," Kaede realizes. "I'm gonna text him."

Shindough

I need your help
Can you please spar with me in front of Hana? I need a way to impress her cause she thinks I'm gay

Ouch
Sure
But I'm not gonna let you win on purpose
When?

As soon as possible
But try not to look cool

Erm

Last time I introduced my friend to her, she dated him for almost three years dude

Fair point
But another thing that's three years: me and Hana's age difference bro
I'm not a pedo

"Kaede?" Kuina taps his knee.

"Yeah?"

"Remember that you don't have to do any of this. You don't have to impress Hana, or anyone at all. Just be yourself and be good."

"I know." Kaede stands up, still half-texting. "Bye, Kuina! Thank you. Have good night."

●・○・●・○・●

Kaede adjusts the straps on his gloves, heart pounding. Shirabi is stretching in the ring's corner. He looks calm, calm in a way that Kaede envies and fears at the same time.

Hana texted him ten minutes ago: I'm almost there. Don't start without me.

The bell hasn't even rung yet and Kaede can already feel his lungs buzzing with fire. There are other people in the crowd, but the most important one enters just now. Hana, in a denim jacket, her hair pulled up. Kaede almost loses focus. She gives a small wave, confused but intrigued, and sits on a crate along the wall, resting her chin in her hand.

The bell rings.

Kaede steps forward with light footwork. Shirabi moves like a shadow, smooth and unbothered. His punches are testing Kaede, who deflects one, then lunges forward with a hook that Shirabi sidesteps easily.

He fakes a jab, then lands a shot that knocks the wind from Kaede's lungs. He stumbles but keeps his footing, face heating as the small crowd murmurs.

Kaede thinks of her. Her laugh. Her mouth. The symmetrical one. The one he complimented like an idiot. He straightens up and lands a punch, clean to Shirabi's jaw.

It's not strong enough to rattle him, but it earns a raised eyebrow.

The second half of the round is faster. Kaede dodges low, slips a right hook, and drives forward with a burst of energy. Shirabi blocks most of it, but one gets through.

The bell rings again. End of the first round.

Kaede retreats to the corner, wiping sweat from his brow with his wrist. His arms are already aching, and the adrenaline high is beginning to crash just slightly.

He glances at Hana. She's clapping. Genuinely. Not just being polite.

In round two, Shirabi doesn't hold back. His punches come harder. Kaede takes a jab to the ribs, then another near his temple. He grunts, trying not to stagger. If he staggers now, it'll all be over.

He ducks. Jabs back. Tries to close the distance and land something memorable. But Shirabi is just so damn tall.

He waits. Breathes. Thinks. Then there's an opening.

Kaede moves low and lands a punch across Shirabi's jaw. Shirabi stumbles a little. Kaede's eyes flick to Hana. Her eyes are surprised.

Then Kaede's shoulder is slammed with a return hook, almost sending him spinning. He recovers with a few pants.

They circle again, trading blows. When round two ends, Kaede is seeing stars, but standing.

Shirabi raises Kaede's glove to the air without waiting for a winner.

Kaede blinks. "What are you doing?"

"End it here," Shirabi mutters. "You landed the prettiest hit of the night. That's what she'll remember."

"You serious?"

Shirabi shrugs. "You want a romantic win or a broken nose? Your choice."

Kaede laughs, breathless. "Jerk."

Shirabi leans in. "Go talk to her. Before she decides you are gay."

The crowd begins to disappears as the match ends without a genuine winner. Kaede hops down from the ring, gloves still on, and walks over to Hana.

She's glowing. Her gold necklace catches the light. "That was..." She looks him up and down, visibly impressed. "Kaede, that was so cool. Like, seriously. I didn't even know you could do that."

He blinks. "Really?"

"Yeah! The way you moved, and that spin near the end—what was that? Awesome! I want to see more matches."

Kaede shrugs, trying to look cool even as his knees threaten to give out. "Eh, thank you."

Before he can panic even more, she steps closer. "Are you free tomorrow?"

His eyes widen. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Just... hang out. Get food? Or, I don't know, walk around and you can teach me how to punch someone?"

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His soul may have exited his body. He thinks he hears angels. Then, "Yes. Yes! Absolutely. Yes to all of that."

Hana grins. "Cool. I'll text you. Bye!"

Kaede turns around and finds Shirabi waiting nearby with a towel around his neck and that same unreadable look on his face.

Kaede walks up to him in silence.

Then suddenly explodes: "She asked me to hang out."

Shirabi's lips twitch. "I saw."

"Bro. She said I looked cool. Me. I've never looked cool in my life. I look like a confused hamster ninety percent of the time."

"Accurate."

Kaede doesn't care. He grabs Shirabi's shoulders and starts shaking him. "I DID IT."

"I know," Shirabi says, voice calm despite being rattled.

"You are the best!" Kaede shouts. "YOU'RE INVITED TO MY WEDDING. You're gonna be my best man! I'm naming my firstborn after you!"

Shirabi raises an eyebrow. "Please don't."

"Too late!"

●・○・●・○・●

Hana comes home to a messy, loud kitchen, and immediately decides to just disappear upstairs.

Flour floats in the air like snowflakes as little Sakiko, three years old and beaming with concentration, stands on a stool beside Baya at the counter. Her apron is too big, but she's wearing it proudly, a determined frown on her face. Baya's apron is covered in smears of chocolate and dough.

"Okay, Koko," Baya says, brushing a bit of flour off her daughter's cheek, "remember, no eating the raw dough."

Sakiko pauses, mid-scoop, fingers suspiciously close to her mouth.

Baya raises an eyebrow.

Sakiko freezes, then very slowly lowers her hand back to the bowl. "Just sniffing it."

"Uh-huh. Sniffing with your tongue?"

"Yes."

Baya leans in and whispers, "If we save it all for baking, Papa will be extra happy for the rest of the week."

"Like last time? When he hid in the pantry and ate five?"

"Yes, exactly like that."

Baya rests her forehead against Sakiko's for a second before straightening up again. She points to the dough. "Alright. Time to scoop them out. Like little balls, okay?"

Sakiko nods and uses the cookie scoop Baya gave her. She carefully drops misshapen blobs onto the baking sheet. Baya smooths out the edges but lets her keep the creative shapes.

"Are these gonna be chocolatey?" Sakiko asks.

Baya nods. "One of Papa's favorites. You remember?"

"Uh-huh. Daddy says chocolate is brain food. He says cookies help him think."

"Which is probably not scientifically accurate, but yes," Baya laughs.

As Sakiko lines up the final ball of dough, she frowns suddenly. "Mama?"

"Yeah?"

"Will Daddy like the weird ones too?"

"The weirdest ones most of all."

Sakiko smiles in relief.

While the cookies bake, they clean up, or try to. Baya swipes up flour with a wet cloth while Sakiko moves things from one bowl to another, humming. At one point, she drops a spoon with a loud clatter, and both of them jump before Baya lifts her onto the counter and kisses her cheek.

By the time the oven timer dings, the kitchen smells like heaven. Sakiko watches seriously as Baya pulls out the tray, cookies still bubbling slightly in the center, chocolate melting.

"Now we wait for them to cool," Baya says.

When the door finally creaks open half an hour later, Chishiya steps in, setting down his bag. His hair is slightly windblown, his shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He pauses as the scent hits him.

"Cookies?" he says cautiously, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Cookies!" Sakiko cries, practically throwing herself off the counter and running to him. "We made them! For you! All of them!"

Chishiya catches her effortlessly, and Baya, leaning in the doorway with her arms folded, smiles as Sakiko grabs both sides of her father's face. "They're the brain kind," she says. "So you can think faster."

Chishiya glances up at Baya, who gives him an innocent blink. "I just assisted."

He stands, still holding Sakiko with one arm. "Did you taste test them?"

"No!" Sakiko says. "We waited."

He eyes her. "That's very responsible of you. How many can I have?"

"All of them."

"Oh? Not even one for you?"

Sakiko leans in close to his ear. "You can give me a bite."

"Generous."

The three of them move to the kitchen. Chishiya picks up a cookie and bites into it.

"Best cookies yet," he says eventually, reaching for another and tearing a piece off for Sakiko. "I'm proud of you, Koko."

She smirks, quite literally the same expression her father often wears.

Baya breaks off a piece of hers and holds it out between two fingers. "Here," she teases.

Chishiya bites it with a quiet hum of appreciation. "Addictive."

"You're welcome," she says, licking sugar off her own fingertips.

Chishiya glances at her, the kitchen's warm lights catching in her eyes. For a second, it's just them. They kiss softly, just once. Her smile deepens against his mouth.

"Ew!!" Sakiko sits bolt upright, cookie crumbs on her pajama and betrayal on her face.

"You'll understand when you're older."

Sakiko shakes her head furiously, squirming. "Never. I'm gonna eat all the cookies so you guys can't kiss again. Ever!"

Chishiya arches an eyebrow. "I'm glad you spoke your mind."

Sakiko grabs two warm cookies from the plate and stuffed them into her mouth, one after the other. "Mrrfgh mmphhff!"

Baya watches her with a grin. "Well. Guess you've been replaced."

Chishiya sighs and bites into another cookie. "Truly. I've lost everything."

Sakiko, through a full mouth, points at him triumphantly. "I win."