Chapter Text
“Your majesty, we’re hearing reports of disloyal officers,” one of Hachiro’s aides reported as he strode through the imperial palace in Tokyo, surrounded by people bustling about. It had been about a month since he had been declared emperor officially, shortly after the DIA had escorted him from Seasoning City. He had been running back and forth from place to place in those next weeks, feeling whiplash of extraordinary proportions. Why did he name me as his successor? Did he really expect me to do this? One of many reasons he figured there was something deeply wrong with the late man. Unfortunately, the doctor had never been a therapist.
“Of course you are,” Hachiro said, not even looking at them. “They probably weren’t even loyal when Katsuhito was still alive. They just see their chance now.”
“Emperor Suzuki,” the aide continued. “I don’t think you understand the scale of it. Without decisive action, we could be looking at an imminent coup.”
“Who are these officers? Who would they put in charge?” Hachiro asked, still not looking back. He held his tongue, though he wanted to say more. He wanted to admit he wished to be replaced. With every passing moment, the weight of the blood on his hands grew heavier.
“Akihito was killed in the uprising, but Naruhito was only imprisoned,” the aide reminded him. “They might free him and declare him the emperor. Restore the old line.” He folded his arms behind his back. “That, or they’ll just impose a junta.”
“We’ll figure out what to do about them,” the doctor insisted. Before another word could be exchanged, a man waved to him, escorted by guards, some from the DIA and some wearing flags of the United States. He recognized the individual: Joseph Ambrose, the American ambassador to Japan. His blond hair turning silver and the smile plastered on his face made him impossible to miss.
“Divine Emperor Suzuki, in the flesh,” he remarked. “We still meeting soon?”
Hachiro didn’t feel like saying a word to the ambassador, friendly as he appeared. He nodded and let his aides escort him further, leaving the American behind. He was in the process of signing a peace treaty with the—many—countries Japan was at war with. There wasn’t much he wanted to do with his imperial authority, but one thing was clear. This war had to end. Katsuhito’s government was well on its way to collapsing. If it had continued going in its current direction, there would have been no country left to rule.
Another seeming contradiction, Hachiro remarked to himself. Had the Divine Emperor failed to realize he would doom his own vision by putting him in charge? Or maybe, deep down, he hadn’t cared too much about the war. Maybe his choice of succession was a leftover from the time when they had seemed to relate to each other, a time long ago that seemed impossibly far now.
It didn’t matter anymore. The fate of Japan would not be decided by him. He would sit on the throne for months at best, and hate every minute of it, and then he would pass it off to the most competent officer he could once he had made sure his own agenda went through. That was, if Toichiro didn’t seize power, which the doctor was sure he would once the ceasefire came to pass, or if another coup sprung up, or if the JLA won. None of these outcomes he particularly cared about. He just wanted someone to end the fighting, so he could go back to his work.
At this point, he felt it was too late to turn back. Even having accounted for all the ethics he could, he had failed everyone who had placed their trust in him. Toichiro, for one. Sho, for another. Kageyama Ritsu for a third. He grimaced.
Kageyama…
The older of the two brothers had been a major target of Katsuhito’s regime from the beginning, and not for no reason, but if there was at least one small thing Hachiro could do for his pupil—if he even deserved to think of the boy that way—it was to put that to a stop. Whoever replaced him could undo what he resolved to do in that moment, he knew, but he would at least buy Ritsu and his friends—his family—vital time.
The doctor let out a sigh. It was a long road ahead. For him, for his vision, for Japan, and for the whole future. Hesitantly, he turned around to face his staff. “Take me to my office. I’m going to sign another order.” He turned in the direction of his quarters and placed his hands on his hips. “There’s someone I want to pardon.”
*****
“Fun, isn’t it?” Asmo remarked, looking up at Tomoko with a smile on her face. The two watched as the people around them danced in the parks. The nurse tugged on the general’s outfit. “We should join, you know.”
Tomoko chuckled. “Dancing’s not really my style. You know that.” She allowed herself to smile too, nonetheless. She may not have been the most outwardly enthusiastic, but the celebration that was the Anzenna Festival never did fail to lift her spirits.
Things were complicated in the JLA, now. Not long after the battle at Seasoning City, it had turned out Hironaka was going behind the backs of the rest of command and collaborating with the Americans. There had been a plan, apparently, for Hironaka to take control and usher in a future for Japan that wasn’t too different from its past, a future she knew wouldn’t ever serve her, and certainly wouldn’t ever serve its people. For everything that could be said about Katsuhito, it was also true that he’d driven a great many corporations—both foreign and domestic—away or into the ground, and the general was hardly interested in welcoming them back.
With the marshal arrested and removed from his position, a temporary council had been set up between the generals, a council Tomoko was on. Maintaining stability would be a tough feat moving forward, but she knew she had to try. The war was far from over.
“Whatever you’re thinking about,” Asmo told her, “Let it go, alright? Just for today.”
“Just for today,” Tomoko agreed, echoing her lover’s words, nodding. She took Asmo’s hand in hers and walked forth. “Maybe I can dance a little.”
The general could almost feel the other’s grin, not just see it. The two made their way to the center of the park, and though Tomoko was somewhat reluctant, she began to dance, mostly guided by Asmo in the process. It was an unusual sight to see, for sure, with all the people who knew her as a high-strung commander and nothing more. Yet, for some odd reason, she found she didn’t care one bit.
“What do you think we’ll do when this is all over?” Asmo asked, practically whispering the question in Tomoko’s ear.
“I don’t know,” the general admitted, holding the nurse close. It was a topic she was surprised how little she’d thought about. “I really don’t know.”
“I’d like to settle down,” Asmo said. “Maybe open a charity or two. Keep helping where we can.”
“You can take a medic out of war, and she’s still a medic,” Tomoko said, her voice impossibly faint. She furrowed his eyebrows. “What good is a general with no more battles to fight?”
Asmo laughed, as if her question was ridiculous. “Come on now.” She shook her head. “Some things about you, I’ll never understand.”
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter where you go, Tomoko,” Asmo insisted. “You’ve already changed so many lives…” She giggled, ruffling the other’s hair. “You have no idea how many people will follow you no matter what.” The nurse positioned her head in front of the general’s, and leaned close. “And you should know I’m one of them.”
At that, Asmo kissed her lover, and Tomoko kissed her back. It was one of those times when she was so overwhelmed—in all the best ways—she could not quite think through it. When they pulled apart, smiles covered both their faces, almost splitting them.
“You can take a hero out of war, and she’s still a hero,” Asmo assured. “In fact… she may prove to be a bigger hero than ever before.”
Tomoko felt a sob coming and wrapped her arms around the other. “I love you.” As Asmo returned the hug, the general spotted Sasaki Haruka shooting her a glance and smirking. That old woman had always had the best moves, and tonight was no exception, but she’d paused her dancing just to offer her own form of moral support. Half of Tomoko wanted to yell at her, but the other half—the grateful one—overruled it.
Thank you for believing in me, Kenji, she randomly thought. I hope I’ve made something of that.
*****
“Good times,” Dimple remarked, taking in all the festivities and laughing, hovering just by Reigen. “You know, it’s a lot better when you haven’t manipulated them all into being in a cult.”
“Who would’ve thought genuine feelings are king?” Reigen added, laughing. What a day it was. The Anzenna Festival was really happening as he turned twenty-nine. Maybe not quite the fanciest alignment of the stars—he’d have to wait one year until his thirtieth for that, if he was even coming back here after this to see another festival—but it was interesting, nonetheless. It occurred to him this was the first time he’d really gotten involved in anything in Anzenna that had nothing to do with talking to clients. He was oddly refreshed by the fact he’d hardly thought of his business for a change.
Most of his thoughts were occupied by a man he’d met some weeks ago, under the most peculiar of circumstances. Serizawa Katsuya had turned himself over to the JLA not long after the battle at Seasoning City. It had turned out—thanks to insider information from a certain redhead boy Ritsu knew very well—that despite being in Suzuki Toichiro’s close circle, Serizawa had done very little to actually advance Claw’s goals. He seemed to genuinely be unaware of many of the awful things the organization had done, but after seeing the destruction and cost of what had been to Mob—no, Shigeo; he had to learn to think of him by that name—he had decided he could not stay there any longer. To his credit, he’d put his money where his mouth was and started contributing to the community, lending a helping hand as best he could. Reigen hadn’t expected someone like that to one-up him. Now he was quite fond of the other, after having talked to him a little and seeing him in action. He snuck a couple glances, and—though perhaps in spite of himself—felt his cheeks flush. Dimple chuckled from nearby. No doubt he knew what that meant. It was a light chuckle, and a friendly one.
“Good luck with that,” the spirit remarked.
“Excuse me,” a familiar voice came, and Reigen turned around to see Shigeo. He no longer called the older “master”, something that was hard to get used to, but understandable. At his core, he was the same boy Reigen had always known, but he was growing fast, and realizing more of himself than ever before. It was for the best.
“Shigeo,” Reigen said, the name still feeling unfamiliar—but at least warm nonetheless—on his tongue. “Everything alright?”
“Tsubomi’s leaving soon,” Shigeo said. “I’m going to go wish her well. I just wanted to see how you were doing first. You and Dimple.”
“Haven’t felt better in a while, Shige,” Dimple told him with a hearty laugh.
“That may just be true for all of us,” Reigen nodded. “Thank you.”
“I also got you a birthday present,” the boy added, stepping aside pointing to a large box covered in wrapping paper resting behind him on the ground. Reigen walked over to it and picked it up, inspecting it.
“Thank you for this, too,” Reigen said, slowly unwrapping it. His eyes nearly jumped out of his head when he saw the writing on the box and realized what it was. “A PlayStation 3? Special edition? With dozens of games built in?” He looked at Shigeo, bewildered. “Where’d you even get this?”
“From Sony?” Shigeo asked, blinking, seemingly confused by the question. Reigen blinked back. Obviously, he knew Sony was a Japanese company, but most of those had shut down under Katsuhito, or switched to fueling his war machine alone. Then again, Sony’s American division had been largely unimpeded, he supposed. “Anyway, it was expensive, but Hanazawa helped with that.” The black-haired esper scratched the back of his head, a blush washing over his face.
“This is awesome,” Reigen exclaimed, looking into Shigeo’s eyes and pointing a finger at him. “If he helped you with this, he’s a keeper. Do yourself a favour and ask him out already.”
“I think I will,” Shigeo held a hand close to his heart, his cheeks redder.
“I thought you didn’t like the blondie,” Dimple pointed out.
“He’s grown on me,” Reigen shrugged. He stepped forward and pat his former student on the back. “Kid, I don’t even know how to tell you how proud I am. You’ve got this.”
Shigeo smiled. “And you can ask out Serizawa, then.”
Reigen stepped back, slack-jawed. “Now hold on a moment.”
“He’s got you there,” Dimple remarked.
Shigeo burst into a fit of laughter then, and Reigen couldn’t help but notice how real it looked, the earnestness etched into every bit of his face. The boy turned around and walked away, but his energy hung behind. Reigen couldn’t help but tear up a little. It was a beautiful thing.
*****
“I’m going to miss you all,” Tsubomi said, placing her hands at her side and bowing her head before Emi, Umi, and the other members of the student council. She’d managed to get her parents to agree to delay their flight out of Japan just enough so she could attend the Anzenna Festival. She wanted to leave things on a high note.
The pink-haired girl had a wide smile on her face. “You may not have been here long,” she said, “But you left an impression. It will be a lot lonelier without you, that’s for sure.” Umi nodded in agreement, though she didn’t say anything.
Tsubomi looked to the side. Tome and Mezato were nearby, dancing together. They weren’t the only couple, though—pretty much the whole school was caught up in the fun. Boyfriends and girlfriends and friends and family all shared it. There was something to be said about the community spirit in this town. When she had lived in Seasoning City, it had been a bustling place, without much cheer. People would walk along the sidewalks with their heads hung low and their words kept to a minimum. It had been like that even before the Psychic Uprising, but had only gotten worse under Katsuhito’s rule. She made a mental note to treasure what she’d experienced here. It was something beautiful.
“Tsubomi?” came a familiar voice. The girl turned around and saw Shigeo, a warm look on his face. He noticed Emi and Umi as well, waving to them.
“Hello, Shigeo,” Tsubomi addressed. “How’s it going?”
“Well. You?”
Tsubomi sighed. “There’s the whole ‘leaving tomorrow’ thing, but other than that… it’s not bad at all.”
Shigeo nodded. “Of course.” He smiled. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He looked off to the side. “Wherever you’re going, you’ll thrive there.”
“Thank you,” Tsubomi brushed aside some of her hair. “Australia, by the way. It’s not too far, it has a good amount of Japanese speakers, and nothing too wild is going on there.”
“If you ignore the animals,” Emi threw in.
Tsubomi shrugged. “I don’t mind spiders, nor kangaroos.”
“Good luck,” Shigeo said, stepping forth and outstretching his arms, wrapping Tsubomi in a hug, which she gladly reciprocated. There were times in the past when Shigeo had looked at her and she had sensed his infatuation from those eyes, but it had been a month now since she’d let him down, and there was nothing even close to that in this embrace. In the long term, he’d taken it well, and she was happy for him. As far as she knew, nothing was ever going to come between their friendship. She could not be more grateful they had found their way back to each other, despite everything.
“I’ll keep in touch,” Tsubomi told him. “Promise.”
“Me too.”
An impossibly long time later, the two separated, and Tsubomi looked to the side and caught Emi’s grin.
“How sweet,” she remarked. “You know, you two have given me a lot of good book ideas with all the stuff you’ve been wrapped up in.” Umi snickered. “I should get to work on those soon.”
Emi took her friend’s hand and led her away, as if to give Tsubomi and Shigeo a chance to say anything more to each other, but all the words had already been spoken, and the two simply nodded, grinning from cheek to cheek. Shigeo bowed to Tsubomi, and with that, he turned around and left with her thoughts.
He’s a good, kind person, Tsubomi remarked to herself. Maybe she could have liked him that way if things had been different. Things in life, even those taken for granted, were the culmination of millions of circumstances; there was no telling how they could have lined up in some other world. As it stood, she wasn’t even sure if she liked boys at all. She was sure of one thing, though: whoever ended up with Kageyama Shigeo would be a lucky soul.
She caught a look at Hanazawa Teruki from the corner of his eye, standing alone and flipping through the pages of some sort of book. Shigeo seemed to be approaching him. She felt her lip twist into a bit of a smirk. Guess I know who that’ll be.
*****
Hanazawa Teruki: Life of a Hero.
What a weird title it was, looking back on it. Teru held the book in his hands and read over all the ridiculous exposition dumps, taking in the crudely-drawn panels and the highlighted exclamations. It was funny. He felt like he’d grown ten years since the last time he’d read it.
There was something odd in the idea of being a hero. Not because he still felt the guilt of what he’d done before weighing on his shoulders—he did, to an extent, but he was wise enough to know now he was doing what he could to make up for it—but because until now, he hadn’t give it much thought as to what it really meant. The only thing he could pinpoint for sure was that he’d always seen General Gushiken was a hero, and he’d tried to follow in her footsteps, but then again, where would one draw the line between heroism and simple kindness? Was it the urge to throw oneself into battle? The pursuit of some sort of glory? Why am I getting so philosophical?
“Hanazawa?”
The blond’s eyes flicked upward. Kageyama Shigeo stood before him, and his cheeks flushed immediately. “Shi-Kageyama?” He couldn’t stop himself from beginning to say the other’s first name.
Shigeo raised a hand to his face and stifled a laugh. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be so formal.”
Teru’s heart rate slowed, his breathing steadying. He closed the book and stuffed it as best he could in the side of his pants, absentmindedly toying with his hair. It had finally started growing back, so he’d been able to throw away that wig, and—from an objective standpoint; he was at least mostly sure he wasn’t biased—he’d taken great care of it. “So, what’s up? I was just reading my old manga.”
“About what you confessed to me…” Shigeo rested his hands to his sides and seemed to blush as well. “I know I told you I needed time to think about it, and I have.” He reached forward and offered his hand. “I do want to be more than friends. I at least want to try it.”
Teru blinked several times. It took a moment for the words to actually hit him, but when they did, he completely lost his composure. He was worried he’d straight up tumble to the ground before he got ahold of himself, straightening his hair some more. “I-you do?”
“You must understand, Teruki,” Shigeo looked to the side. “You’re very pretty, and kind, and communicative, and open to change.” He giggled. “I considered it, and I like you too. A lot.”
Teru should have understood. He would have said half those things about himself with pride not months ago. Yet, somehow, hearing them from the other boy made them feel true for the first time, especially paired with his first name. “Well… I… in that case, I’d…” He sputtered out the words. “I’d love to go out with you!”
Shigeo grinned, face redder than beetroot. “Come on, then.” He held his hand closer to Teruki, and the blond took it.
“If I may?” another voice asked, and the two turned around to see General Gushiken.
“Oh, hey,” Teru addressed.
“I’m sorry,” the general looked between the two boys. “I can tell I’m interrupting something.”
“Not at all,” Shigeo said with a bow.
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Teru added. “No worries.”
Gushiken cleared her throat. “I just wanted to talk to you both for a moment. Ritsu and Takenaka and the others too, but I’ll catch them later.”
“What about?” the blond asked.
“Hironaka and his loyalists—few as they are—wanted you both fighting in the war,” Gushiken explained. “Whether you wanted to or not. I imagine you know exactly where I stand on that.”
The two boys exchanged glances, then looked back at her and nodded.
“Teruki, I understand you feel strongly about this cause, and I’m proud of what you’ve managed to do for the JLA,” the general said, resting a hand on her pupil’s shoulder. “But this never should have happened. You’re a kid, and kids shouldn’t be fighting wars.” Teru studied her face. She seemed to have difficulty finding the right words. “I’m sorry for pulling the rug out from under you like this, but I’m even more sorry for letting this go on as long as it did. You are not a soldier. You’re a hero, but you’re not a soldier.”
Teru flinched. There was that word again. Hero.
“I hope you’ll understand the cause isn’t just fistfights and gunfire,” Gushiken carried on. “We win by uplifting each other. When I think of all you’ve accomplished, I don’t think of the people you’ve beaten in battle but the people to whom you’ve held out your hand.” She gestured to Shigeo.
The black-haired esper spoke up himself, facing his friend. “If it wasn’t for that side of you, I don’t know what would have happened to me.” He locked his fingers further with Teru’s. “It’s that side I’m falling for.”
Teru exhaled, eyes going wide. “I… wow.” He laughed. “You’re good at this.”
Gushiken laughed too. “I think my point is made.” She sighed. “Teruki, I want you to live a good life. I want that for everyone.” She glanced between the two. “I’m going to be contacting foster care networks. I can’t step down now, especially not when things are so chaotic in the JLA, so I’m entrusting your care to adults I can trust. Adults I can trust more than myself, frankly.”
Shigeo beamed. “Thank you, general.”
“Well…” Teru scratched the back of his head. “I guess it had to be said eventually.” He chuckled, looking into the general’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say. Just… you’ve always been there for me, and… I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” He felt himself getting teary. “Just… don’t be afraid to drop by. You need your breaks too.” He placed his hands on hips and rolled his eyes. “ Mom. ”
Gushiken laughed again at the sarcastic tone in his voice. “Now watch your tongue, young man.” She almost seemed to clutch her stomach. “Of course I will.” Her face softened and her muscles relaxed. “Now, why don’t you go have fun? We can talk more about it soon.”
Teru and Shigeo exchanged glances, nodding to each other. As the general shooed them away, Shigeo took the blond by the hand, and they made their way to the center of the park.
“Remember when you showed me how to dance?” Shigeo asked, looking back at Teru. “I hope I’ve retained enough of that.”
Teru smirked. “I love the way you think. We’ll crush it.”
The two laughed again, for maybe the hundredth time that day. Gushiken was right, and so was Shigeo. Clobbering baddies was fun and all, but being here, right now… it was a whole other kind of magic. This was the side of him to be proud of.
Maybe he was still a hero, after all, and this was enough.
*****
“Hanging in there?” Sho’s voice came through the other end of the phone. Ritsu stood off to the side of the festivities, talking to his friend and fingering his eyepatch a little to truly comprehend it was there. When he’d first been given one and chosen to wear it, Kurosaki had told him how cool he looked, and shortly thereafter she’d confessed to him, as if she hadn’t made it obvious how she felt many times already. He had let her down, of course—he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt romantic attraction in his life, or ever would, and certainly not toward her—but he’d pointed her in the direction of Takenaka. For some reason, he’d had a gut feeling they’d go well together; he turned out to be right, as they were dancing in the park this very moment with everyone else, and the rest of the Awakening Lab squad was cheering them on nearby. He’d even shot Kurosaki a wink or two, but he didn’t want to mess this up and get her catching old feelings again, so he’d kept it to a minimum. For an aromantic, he wasn’t half bad at playing matchmaker.
“Yeah,” he said. “How are things on your end?”
Sho sighed. “Dad’s pissed, but then again, he always is. I think he might just take over Japan for himself.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised.” Ritsu shrugged. “It’d give the JLA a bit of a tougher fight, that’s for sure.”
This wasn’t the first time Sho had checked in. He’d decided he was going to be a mole for the JLA, but he usually made Ritsu the middleman, since they were still friends and wanted to talk as much as they could. Toichiro, apparently, allowed it, knowing how important Ritsu was to his son. Little did he know how he was being played, as Sho had said many times. It was childish in a way, so much so Ritsu often forgot the implications of it.
“How’s the Shigmeister?” Sho asked.
“Never say that again,” Ritsu replied coldly. “He’s good, though. I think-” He caught the sight of something in the corner of his eye and did a double take, jerking his head in that direction. Shigeo and Hanazawa holding hands, making their way to the center of the field.
“What?” came Sho’s voice again.
“I guess him and Hanazawa are an actual thing,” Ritsu said, stammering a little. “That’s… a lot to take in… but…”
The spiky-haired esper took a few forth and waved to his brother. Shigeo turned around and noticed, waving back with a smile wider than anything he’d ever seen from him before. Ritsu’s muscles relaxed a little. How can I be anything but happy for him when he looks like that?
The two held each other’s gaze for a while. No words were spoken between them—they’d already exchanged plenty since Seasoning City—but there was a mutual understanding nonetheless, and Ritsu gave the older a thumbs up. He was a little thrown off by everything that had happened lately—it wasn’t any one specific thing, rather the chaos of it all; the sense times were changing and they were all getting older—but he was happy. He didn’t have to pretend anything. He didn’t have to put on a face that wasn’t his own—not here.
You’ve got this, Shigeo, he thought. I’m glad we’re here for each other again.
*****
Shigeo soon made his way to the center of the park with Hanazawa—no, Teruki —and wasted no time applying what he’d learned from the other back then. He took a few steps at first, swaying from side to side, then properly sunk into the rhythm, going back and forth with his boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. It was hard to process, but it was such a warm thought. A gorgeous, amazing one, too.
“Where do we go from here?” Teru asked, laughing softly as they danced.
“I don’t know,” Shigeo shook his head, laughing along. “I really don’t. Does it matter?”
“Not really,” the blond remarked with a shrug. “Guess we can just go wherever the wind takes us, if that’s more your style.”
Shigeo nodded. “That’d be nice.” He looked away for a moment, then back at Teru, realizing how close their faces were. He leaned in, waiting to see how the other would react.
“We’re doing this already?” Teru asked, backing up for just a moment. “I mean, sure. You wanna?”
“I do.”
The next moment, they locked their lips. Shigeo didn’t even process what led up to it after he made his declaration. It was a light kiss, soft and delicate, the first he’d ever had, and it didn’t last terribly long. Maybe in a long time it wouldn’t seem as special as it did then, but he doubted it.
When they separated, Shigeo felt like his heart was on fire. It didn’t help staring into those diamond-like eyes. “That was…” He closed his hand and rested in on his chest. “Sweet.”
“Perfect word to describe it,” Teru agreed, resuming their dance. “I could do this for a while.”
Shigeo nodded. He caught glimpses of so many other people around him. Tsubomi. Takenaka. Dimple. Reigen. Ritsu. All lively. All cheerful. All earnest and present, in their own ways. It was like everyone he cared about was in the same room, and he couldn’t have asked for anything more.
For three years, he’d been on the run. For three years, he’d dreamed the clouds above would clear, and now they had. For the first time in three years, he could see the sun, and what a beautiful sight it was.