Work Text:
‘Roommate’ was the term they’d used a long time ago. They’d both thrown the word around without a second thought; just a roommate—a person they had to share a home with for, of course, nothing more than convenience sake. From ‘Guardian Figure’ to ‘Legal Guardian’, for Mizuki, the labels didn’t really change anything. A guardian—a person who may or may not be legally obliged to make sure she wasn’t causing too much trouble. Whether her legal name was Okiura or Date, whether Date officially adopted her out of pure pity for the young girl who’d lost both her parents in just a few days, whether Date ever considered her as real family; his daughter and not just some girl who he had to live with by the unfortunate luck of the draw…
Well in the end, none of those things really mattered. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.
The past six years living alone gave her a lot of time to think about thoughts she’d decided to push away at the time. It wasn’t until he was gone that she realised how much she needed Date, spending countless nights laying in bed staring at the couch across from her wishing she’d see that stupid face of his making that typical frown he often had when talking to Aiba, hear that stupid voice of his as he’d accidentally reply aloud like a crazy person, smell that gross old person stench from his coat that he refused to wash—
Mizuki exhaled deeply before dropping her train of thought. Over the years she finally came to terms with Date’s disappearance, though thinking about him too much would often leave her with nothing but a dark blanket of loneliness engulfing her, dry eyes and long sigh that would become painful from deep within her chest as she would pull the bed covers, rolling over to sleep away the unwanted desolation building.
By eighteen years of age, she came to accept that he was really gone. Everyone around her would tell her he was out there, somewhere, to which she would respond with, ‘You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me’. Although, somewhere inside of her held onto those words, clinging to any possibility that he might still be alive—the flames of belief that were once a vigorous bonfire worn down to a single flickering flame, but not yet completely extinguished. She wanted to believe; even if it was pointlessly optimistic.
And now—after six years, he’s finally back. Like everything else from the whole incident, that information was taking time to sink in. Kaname Date, in the flesh, alive, here. She hadn’t talked to him much since he showed up, which made sense considering everything that’d been going on at the time—y’know, beating up bad guys with her artificial eyeball, solving a six year old serial killings case with her father who went missing for six years just months after adopting her, saving the world from some cultists trying to brainwash all of humanity with her clone who she just found out existed barely two weeks ago—the usual.
But even after everything was over, neither of them ever said any more than necessary, other than the odd snarky remark once in a while. It felt… distant. As if they were both standing on opposite ends of the same tightrope. In the past, she believed that he’d fallen off the rope completely, but now he stood right there, in front of her eye. Neither dared to step any further in fear of falling into the vastly large unknown below them. She just wanted to punch his dumb face every time he would stroll into their tiny apartment as if he’d never been gone.
Mizuki heard the front door close and the sound of footsteps following. Speak of the devil.
As soon as Date stepped into the room from the hallway door she grabbed her backpack and pushed herself past him, catching him off guard as he stumbled back.
“I’m going out,” she mumbled with a slam of the door. After setting off, she peered over her shoulder multiple times at the old apartment door. Her heart ached as she wished for the door to swing open and a familiar voice to call out to her.
Her walking sped up to running as she watched the apartment shrink into the distance until it left her sights completely.
Mizuki wandered the streets alone. The sun was setting and the sky was quickly beginning to darken as she relied on streetlights to navigate her way down each road.
Before she even knew where she was headed, she found herself standing in front of the Enda Residence. Resting a hand on the doorknob, she took a deep breath before opening the door. From the moment she stepped foot in the door, she was met with Shoma’s gaze from his usual position under the kotatsu.
“Mizuki,” he set the robot pieces he’d been tinkering with aside. “What are you doing here?”
She waddles over to her usual place by the kotatsu, dropping her backpack to rest next to her. “Shoma, um…” She glances around awkwardly but wastes no time getting under the kotatsu next to the boy. “I just wanted to see what’s up,”
“What’s up?” He raises an eyebrow as he recites her words.
“The ceiling.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. Did you suddenly remember that one from grade school?”
“Maybe I did,”
Silence filled the room, but like most times Mizuki spent with Shoma, it was a comfortable silence. She’d always been a chatty person in general, so spending time with Shoma was always nice. It gave them both a quiet time to share each other’s company and to think about things; or perhaps the opposite—time to not think about anything at all. Both were quite a nice change of pace.
After the HB case was solved and the Nirvana Initiative finally came to an end, the two were closer than ever. Mizuki had to admit it was nice having a friend her own age. And since they were both subject to the human experiments conducted at Horadori Institute, she supposed they could be ‘GMO freaks’—she’d once called them—together. They’d spent a lot of time together in the past two weeks, discussing anything that came to mind. About Naix, Tokiko, Horadori Institute, everything and anything other than the topic of Amame. Although Shoma said he was okay with the status of his sister, Mizuki could tell it was still a sensitive topic to speak about. Whenever the conversation seemed to go down that road, an uncomfortable silence followed as she’d search for a new topic to focus the conversation to.
“Did something happen?” Shoma’s voice snapped her out of her trance.
“Huh?” Mizuki jumped as the sudden sound startled her.
“Well, it’s almost ten pm and already dark outside. Most of the time you don’t come here this late unless something happens. Plus, you usually just barge on in whenever you do come to visit, but this time I heard you waiting outside before opening the door. Also, you didn’t even—“
“Okayokay jeez, I get it,” She huffed, cheeks puffed out dramatically as she crossed her arms. “Nothing really happened. I was just nearby so I thought I’d drop by,”
“Then why were you walking around with nowhere in particular to go at night alone?”
Mizuki opened her mouth faster than her brain could come up with an answer. She closes it again and turns her head away.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
There’s a long pause between them before she mumbles, “it’s not really important,” she turned to face Shoma, who was watching her closely. “…it would take a long time to explain everything anyway.” She clears her throat uncomfortably as she moves her gaze away from those eagle eyes again.
“I have all the time in the world.” Shoma replies, nonchalant as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin in his palm.
Technically, he almost did. Only God knew how long he could actually live for. The thought of it was almost enough to make Mizuki’s brain explode. She obviously knew for years that her strength was well beyond that of a normal human; even that alone was difficult enough to wrap her head around. Although they were both just mere test subjects for Chikara Horadori, what she and Shoma had were two completely different things. Shoma had eternal youth and life.
The world three hundred years from now is something that no matter what Mizuki does, she will never have the opportunity to see, to experience, to even come close to imagining what this world she’d saved will look like that far in the future. But for Shoma, three hundred years could almost possibly be less than half of his entire lifespan. He has so much time on his hands it’s honestly terrifying to think about; and maybe a little sad.
Will he remember events like finding his father’s corpse at Studio Dvaita, his sister murdering Uru in a sudden fit of rage, or making the thermite bomb they used in the stadium to stop the Nirvana Initiative? Or will he still remember small things, like those times in elementary school when he helped Mizuki with homework? Heck, will he even remember the conversation they’re having at this very moment? Perhaps Mizuki and everything that happened would just become a distant memory for him; she’d become someone he met so long ago that their time together feels like nothing more than a crazy dream, details quickly slipping from his mind before the memory fades entirely—after all, twelve years may seem like a long time to know someone to any normal person, but for Shoma that’s only the first few of hundreds upon hundreds of years to come.
“…Do you think about it often?” The question was as vague as it could get, but Shoma knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Well yeah, of course,” he idly drums his fingers against the table, “I’ve known for a while now. It gave me a lot of time to think about things.”
Mizuki leans back comfortably as she pauses. “It must be hard.”
“It is,” he shrugs, “but if anything I’ve learnt to stop worrying about it so much.”
“Is it really that easy to stop worrying like that?”
“When you have as much time as I do, you learn to appreciate the time you have with everyone while you still can,”
She ponders, revising his words. Before she can control herself she allows herself to speak honestly. “I wish I could stop worrying like that. Every time I see Date’s face I wonder how long it’ll be before he’s gone again; whether he’ll even come back again at all. We barely talk anymore. It makes me wonder, what if he’d never gone missing? What if he’d never left? Would I be happy? Would we be at our usual bickering if he didn’t miss six years of my life? It makes me wonder if it would’ve been easier if he never came back at all, if he roamed the earth off somewhere else for the rest of both our lives and we never saw each other again… then maybe I wouldn’t have this constant worry that he’ll disappear without a word and…” she took a deep breath to keep the conflicting mix of anger and sadness from boiling over, “and leave me alone again.”
Shoma looks concentrated, as if he’d been replaying her words to take in all of the information. Mizuki fiddles with her hands, getting more nervous the longer the silence lasts. She opens her mouth, ready to apologise for her outburst, but Shoma finally speaks first.
“I don’t have the right to tell you how to feel,” he gives her a sincere expression. “But I can give you my opinion—what you do with that is up to you.”
She nods, giving him another few moments to gather all of his thoughts.
“There are no ‘ifs’ in this world. No matter how much you wish things had been different, you can’t change your path. It’s easy to go over the ‘what ifs’, but accepting the path you’ve chosen and moving forward from that path is the hardest part. You can dwell on the fact that you’ve lost six years together; wonder ‘what if’ he’d never gone missing, ‘what if’ he’d never left, but no amount of ‘what ifs’ will change the past. The difference now is that he’s back. I know the last six years have been hard on you, but if anything, I think that should give you a reason to cherish your time together now more than ever. But whatever you decide to do from now on is entirely up to you—this is your path. It may take time. But if it helps… no matter what your choice is, you’ll always just be the same ol’ Mizuki to me.”
…
“…Shoma,”
“…”
“Thank you.”
~~~
“Mizuki, are you sure you don’t want to stay over? The rain is really heavy out there…”
Shoma peers outside, concerned as the unending rain hits the floor in loud splashes. His hand rests on the doorknob as Mizuki fumbles with the umbrella he lent to her.
“Don’t underestimate me! You think a bit of rain can stop me?” She has her usual smirk as she finally opens the umbrella with a loud pop, stepping outside.
He frowns. “Your superhuman strength isn’t enough to save you from a cold.”
“Pshh, I’ll be fine!” She says, carefree as she waves her hand dismissively. She averts her gaze as her voice lowers, “I… I really need to talk to him while it’s fresh in my mind.”
Shoma nods silently. “If that’s what you want. I’m always here if you change your mind and decide to turn back though,” his lips curling into a warm smile, “and text me when you get home. It’s dark out.”
“Sure thing, Mom ,” she returns his smile before turning to leave. She takes a few steps, looking over her shoulder. “Thanks again.”
Shoma watches her disappear into night’s darkness, rain still persistently pouring as he closes the door.
~~~
It was a long walk home. Mizuki rehearsed everything she wanted to say, repeating her words again and again in her mind, adding little bits she had forgotten the first time. Her thoughts were a mess, tangled as she mentally pulled at each string in attempts to untangle them all, frustrated when it ended up being an even more tangled mess.
She battled both the rain and her thoughts as she made her way home, the sound of the rain soon blocked out by the loud thumping of her heart as she watched the apartment building approaching. Part of her wanted to turn around and run away, back to Shoma’s to hide but she pushed forward as she headed up the steps.
She soon stood outside the door, hesitating. She’d made no progress on her mini speech she tried to write on her way here. What should she say to him? Six years of memories came crashing down on her all at once; there were so many things she wanted to say and not enough time. Time .
Stop wasting time . Something inside her told her.
He could be gone again at any moment . Her eyes widened in fear.
“N-no…” she reached for the door handle, hand shaking.
He’s gone already . Her heart was pounding in her ears, aching. He left you alone again, just like everyone else did .
It was getting hard to breathe. Her vision blurred as the voices multiplied. “Stop… p-please stop,”
Mom, Daddy, you didn’t deserve their love. That’s why they left. Just like Date, Bibi, and everyone else will. Everyone hates you, Mizuki. Poor excuse for a human being, utter waste of space, stupid mista—
Mizuki couldn’t even remember opening the door. Instead, she found herself falling in the doorway from the hall, into the main apartment.
She was cold, shivering, soaking wet from the journey home, clothes dripping as the umbrella she held was half closed and thrown to the floor. Her legs were weak. She collapsed, hands barely catching her fall as her breathing was rapid and uneven. A loud ringing sound filled her ears, she couldn’t hear her own torn voice as she pleaded for it to stop, instinctively reaching her hands over her ears as the ringing continued.
Everything was falling apart.
It was all a blur. She vaguely feels herself scooped off the floor, held close in a warm embrace as she shook in Date’s arms. She didn’t realise she was crying until the ringing in her ears subsided, hearing a voice that was her own uncontrollable sobbing.
They lay there for a while as Mizuki began to come back to her senses, sobs becoming sniffles, breathing evening out between the odd gasp for breath, all the noise in her ears replaced by the sound of the calmed rain against the window. It felt relaxing. Quiet. Date patted her back in a gentle rhythm. She clung to him, burying her fingers into his clothes as her eyes stung.
Her mind was foggy as she croaked the only words that had finally come to her mind, “Please don’t leave me.” Her voice was strained, almost unrecognisable as the words came out in a whisper.
His voice was muffled in response, “…never,” it also came out in a soft whisper, as if any louder would scare the frightened little girl in his arms away. “I’ll never leave you alone again. Not anymore,”
She let out a laugh as she buried her face into his chest, more tears threatening to fall. “Stupid,”
“I know,”
“Old man,”
“Maybe you’re right,”
“Pervert,”
“…”
“…”
“No.”
She laughed, loud and genuine. For the first time in six years, this tiny, barely livable apartment truly felt like home.
“I’m home,” he said, smile audible in his words.
“Welcome home, Da…” Mizuki pauses at her own words. Shoma’s voice played in her mind, ‘
it may take time.’
She can’t help the way the edges of her lips curl into a smile. “Date.”