Chapter Text

“What do you have in here, kid, bricks?”

“It’s probably his books,” ‘Mochi groaned as he tilted his head towards Eijun who was ahead of them opening the door, “he has more books than any normal person I know.”

“They’re for work and you don’t know any normal people anyway,” Eijun shot over his shoulder after he propped open the door and sat his box down.

“Do you find a lot of shoujo manga useful for work?”

“Oh, you wanna talk shit, Mr. Sleeps-With-A-Stuffed-Animal?”

Youichi colored slightly, glaring over at a laughing Miyuki as he followed him into his apartment.

“Shut up before I crush you under your ‘work books.’”

“A lot of men read shoujo,” Eijun defended indignantly as the other two men sat down the final boxes.

“I’d think you’d have better things to do after the success of your recent paper.”

Eijun shrugged, stretching the kinks out of his shoulders.

“I do, but everybody needs a way to unwind.”

“I thought that’s what he was for,” Kazuya waggled his eyebrows, pointing a thumb at Kuramochi.

“Remind me why I asked for your help.”

“Because you need a pack mule, apparently.”

“Thanks for your help, Kazuya,” Eijun said as he disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing with several beers that he handed out before he fell onto the couch with a hefty sigh.

“No problem, I’m just happy to see you guys finally moving in together, even if you are like an old married couple.”

“Trust me when I say that you don’t know the half of it,” the kid snickered when Kuramochi plopped down on the couch beside him.

In the two months since their return to Tokyo, the two had rarely parted apart from work and school. Within a week, they had fully recovered all their memories which had prompted Eijun to launch himself headfirst into a full length paper on samurai in the Bakumatsu period and his personal account from the Battle of Aizu. The paper had been published and widely acclaimed both from the historical community and the community of researchers trying to work with brand theory. His history and findings had led him to the frontier of his study, securing himself a role as the youngest expert in his field; he’d even been asked to conduct several lectures at his own university.

Youichi had utilized his former knowledge to reconstruct his tattooing style as well as open himself up to his old processes, making himself one of the few artists in the country who could confidently work in traditional tattooing. His first customer, much to his surprise, had been his lover who had grinned widely at his confusion when he’d told him that he wanted to be his first.

“I’m a blank canvas; make me yours again.”

“You’re already mine, my masterpiece, and you have been for one hundred and fifty years.”

“It’ll be just like old times,” he’d smiled.

Kuramochi couldn’t find it in him to stop his rueful sigh and nod of agreement.

“You know it’s going to hurt, right?”

“Most good things do.”

They spent most of their night unpacking and arranging Eijun’s belongings into Mochi’s -their - apartment. Eijun was placing his books on the bookshelf in their bedroom when he felt a pair of warm arms wind themselves around his waist. With a happy hum, he settled back against Kuramochi’s chest as he placed the final book.

“I think I need book ends or at least a few more books,” he murmured as he tried in vain to keep the novels from leaning.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Youichi hummed thoughtfully before kissing the side of Eijun’s throat and slipping away momentarily before he returned and handed him two objects.

“How about these?”

“But what will you sleep with now,” Eijun chuckled even as he placed them on either side of the novels.

“You, unless you keep talking,” his lover threatened as the pink stuffed horse and yellow teddy bear stared blankly at them from the shelf, “oh, and I actually have a book you can add.”

Then he was walking away again only to return with a black, leather bound, notebook.

“Oh yeah? What is it?

“It’s one of my notebooks, I just finished it.”

“What were you writing?”

“I finished up our story.”

“Our story?”

Kuramochi rubbed the back of his neck with a self-conscious chuckle, “I had been having a serious case of writer's block before I met you and so I’d taken to just writing down ideas instead of stories like I’d done before. When we met, I just started using it sort of like a diary, I’d write down everything that happened. After we started talking, I just kept writing and it came together like a story.”

“How can you be finishing our story when we still have so many pages to fill,” Eijun teased, leaning down read a passage over his shoulder as Youichi flipped through the pages but he was quickly pushed away.

“This is just the chronicle of us figuring out our brands. The rest will be a private story, just for us.”

“You know, I really like that idea. Do you have a name yet?”

“Yeah,” Youichi nodded as he looked down at the notebook in his hands with a fond smile, “I’m going to call it ‘Inked.’”

“I like that. Can I read it?”

“You lived it, why would you want to read it?”

“Because living something only gives you one side of it, and I’d like to know how you felt during our journey.”

“You’re embarrassing. I’ll let you read it when I’m done proofing it,” he promised as he sat the notebook on the shelf next to the pink horse, “but for now let’s get to bed, that moving killed me.”

As they lay curled together in the aftermath of their affections, Youichi traced his lover’s tattoos.

“Be careful, that one’s still sore,” Eijun murmured as Youichi grazed the inner elbow of his right sleeve, his most recently finished tattoo, where his phoenix tail wove across his flesh in a typhoon of fire.

“Sorry, it’s just sort of like-”

“-deja vu?”

They both snickered.

“Kind of.”

“Yours are wrong though.”

Kuramochi looked at his sleeves and nodded, “yeah, they are; I still like them though.”

“Me too, but I do miss that backpiece.”

“I seem to remember you using it to talk shit once or twice.”

“C’mon, it was perfect. It still works though, since you do still have a running theme with tricksters,” Eijun noted, remembering the Shinto shrine sleeves that had once covered his arms and black, nine-tailed, kitsune that used to cover the entirety of his back.

“You always did like to accuse me of being a trickster.”

“It would also explain why you wanted to see the Inari shrine.”

“Grasping for straws.”

“Maybe, or maybe you’re just trying to trick me.”

“Why would I need to trick you when I already have you exactly where I want you,” Kuramochi laughed.

“Who knows, it’s part of why you’re a trickster; you’re a mystery.”

Eijun remembered back in the day, accusing Mochi of being a trickster and he just laughed.

 

“Didn’t you see my back? They do say Kitsune like to fool proud Samurai, Sawamura.”

 

“I hear they’re also fond of using their wiles for seduction, is that true, oh wise and powerful Kitsune?”

 

Kuramochi had winked and crooked a finger at him, “come and find out.”

“Have you thought about what you want me to do with this empty place here,” he questioned, stirring Eijun from his memories as he placed his hand on the inside of his left shoulder, just above where his koi swam.

“I want you to leave it blank.”

“Really? Why?”

“As long as you have the lotus and I have the koi, I’ll always have a reason to come home; my tattoo is technically incomplete,” he smiled, kissing the tip of Youichi’s nose as he stared at him, “besides, I like it the way it is. This way, you have the part that makes me complete.”

It took Kuramochi a few minutes to be able to speak and when he did, there was a softness in his eyes, a warmth that radiated through their bedroom and curled into the affection in his words

“I think you’ve been reading too much, love,” he murmured before leaning in and capturing his lover’s lips, savoring his touch.

“What can I say; I’m a romantic,” Eijun chuckled, humming his satisfaction when Youichi took another taste.

Youichi chuckled as he turned to his side, “you’re ridiculous. Shut up and go to sleep. I love you.”

Eijun leaned forward and kissed his shoulder before settling into a more comfortable position.

“Love you too.”

As he lay there looking at his bare back, he thought back to his tattoo. After he’d received clemency and been allowed to return to Kyoto from his war camp, Eijun had immediately sought out Youichi. After the official beginning of the Meiji Restoration, the samurai class had been extinguished, leaving Eijun seeking a new start that his mate had been more than happy to help find. After their reunion, they had set out for a new home, settling between Kyoto and Osaka in a small city. Between what Eijun had left in Kyoto and what Youichi had earned since he’d been gone, they’d had enough to purchase a nice home with a large studio.

He’d never forget that day, the memory one of his most treasured. Before they’d walked through their front door, the sky had loosed sheets of rain from a cloudless sky as they had kissed, almost as if on cue. He had laughed as he’d looked up at the sky, remembering the old folk tale that when kitsune were married, rain would fall from a clear sky.

 

“I should have known you were a Kitsune too,” Youichi had laughed as they stood there like idiots, looking at one another outside of their front door.

 

“My seduction methods aren’t nearly as good as yours, though.”

 

“What are you saying? They’re perfect.”

He smiled as he remembered waking up from their first night together in their new home and seeing the framed canvas print of a determined koi and a resilient lotus, what was to have been the final art of his body, sitting above the fireplace like a constant reminder during the rest of their days that through muck and strife rose beauty and through determination and loyalty came the greatest of rewards.

Through old endings came new beginnings.