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Chapter Text

"Takenaka-sensei! Takenaka-sensei!"

Takenaka glanced up from his copy of Brutus ¹, quickly stowing it in his desk before his office door burst open with the sudden arrival of the first-year homeroom teacher, Egashira Eiji. He was a rather handsome young man with a cool demeanor and a genuine interest in the spirit of education, which earned him a rather glowing rapport with their student body. A far cry from the staff of yesteryear and one of Takenaka's personal favorites in the hiring process for how quick and decisive he was in taking action. Although Takenaka had never seen Egashira this shaken before, and during his tenure as an educator, he could only recall hearing such panic involving exam results or delinquent activity.

Egashira stumbled toward Takenaka's desk, nearly doubling over with sweat dripping from his brow. His normally coifed hair was unusually messy, and a rumple in his collar raised Takenaka's eyebrows.

"Calm down, Eiji-kun. What happened?"

He waited patiently as Egashira gathered himself, the panicked haze in his eyes giving way to a flustered, almost embarrassed look. He pulled a leather folder from beneath his arm, handing it to Takenaka. "F-Forgive me, but I wanted to know if you'd looked at the roster for the incoming first-year class."

"Is there something wrong with it?” Takenaka asked, taking the folder and lowering his eyes as he flipped through it.

"N-Not necessarily; however, I was discussing the students assigned to my class with the other teachers, and there was one that seemed..."

Takenaka glanced over the folder, eyebrow raised. "Seemed?"

Egashira looked around quickly, surveying their surroundings as if he feared someone would overhear them. Then, he cupped his hand over the side of his mouth and leaned in, "You know of my.. past history, sensei.." 

Takenaka grunted acknowledgedly. He had a soft spot for Egashira, considering he'd once been a troubled youth and subject to numerous bouts of truancy. 

"So, why would you assign his kid to me?"

Takenaka blinked, pulling back slightly to meet Egashira's eyes. "Pardon? Who are you talking about?"

"Him," Egashira repeated, his voice a little pitched and panicked. "You know, The Oni of Sarayashiki, Urameshi Yusuke!"

A beat passed, then another, before Takenaka sighed. "Egashira-kun,” he started, his voice flat and weary, "you put those days behind you and turned over a new leaf, didn't you? Couldn't you leave all of that in the past?"

"This is different, sir! If it were Yusuke, that's one thing, but.."

Takenaka snorted, a stifled laugh cutting Egashira off. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a young lady entering junior high?"

Egashira shook his head vehemently, slapping his hands down on the desk so hard it made one of the pictures near Takenaka's computer fall face down. "Urameshi Atsuko has connections to the Yakuza, and Urameshi Yusuke single handedly destroyed most of the delinquents in not only junior high and high school but also adults!" He groaned, burying his hands in his hair. "Who knows what a third generation of Urameshi is capable of!"

After Egashira’s grumblings and murmurings died down, Takenaka felt the apprehension quietly swelling up in the room. He peered out the window at sunlit streets doused in orange and yellow hues by the whittling afternoon. A fire safety truck rumbled along the street, its flashing lights and monotonous cautions for safety as well as mindfulness when using household items left a sour taste in his mouth. Yet, he swallowed it down with a light spin in his chair, glimpsing the photo on his desk from the corner of his eye.

That’s all in the past now, he thought as he turned toward his desk again and set his elbows atop the calendar. “Egashira-kun,” he started gravely, hiding his mouth behind his folded fingers. The young man straightened up immediately with a slight tremor to his shoulders, hardly perceptible, but Takenaka spent the better part of their time together as a teacher - a nervous pupil was easy to spot; Takenaka’s lips twitched at the corners, pinching a little then relaxing with a sigh.

“Do you have any plans this evening?”

The tension in Egashira’s posture seemed tight enough that a ruler would lie flat between his shoulders, but at those words, his arms fell loosely at his sides. He gaped openly like a fish, muttering, “What…?”

Takenaka arched a brow, pointedly ignoring the way Egashira scrambled for a sense of a composure with a gasped, “Ah!” Then, he cleared his throat and stammered, “I-I mean no,” with a stern set to his jaw that quickly melted away to the barest opening of curiosity - a little twinkle behind his bespectacled eyes. “Why do you ask, sensei?”

For a brief second, Takenaka simply watched him. At one time, a mealy-mouthed child who wouldn’t look him in the eye, let alone raise his head, stepped into the teacher’s office with trembling arms. Resolve burned hotly in Takenaka’s stomach as he urged the boy to stand straighter and hold his head high so that he could see what would come toward him. It hadn’t worked the first day, nor the second, but as time went on that spark returned to his eyes.

Takenaka’s lips lifted at their corners despite himself as he lowered his hands to his desk.“Why don’t we have dinner together?” He offered, chuckling as Egashira’s eyes grew wide. “My treat.”

Egashira’s mouth fell open again, a bead of sweat from his earlier run rolling down his temple. “I— Sure,” he murmured confusedly. “Thank you, sir.”

Once the young teacher shuffled out the room, Takenaka huffed softly and picked up the picture frame with a little smile. The grinning face of Urameshi Yusuke stared back at him with winking hazel eyes, his slicked-back black hair messily falling around his ears, while his stubbled cheeks pressed against that of Yukimura Keiko, who'd grown into a beautiful young woman with long dark brown hair and reddish-brown eyes squinted into adoring crescents as she looked at the camera. 

Takenaka’s gaze traveled lower to two children sandwiched between his former students. A boy, no older than an elementary-aged child, smiled shyly with his hand intertwined with Keiko's, leaning out of the way of a girl who bore a big, cheeky grin. One of her eyes closed as she took aim at the camera with her fingers in the shape of a gun, an almost exact mirror of Yusuke's pose.

As the fire safety truck’s distant warnings became a faint murmur mixed in with the lingering heat haze of a forgotten nightmare, Takenaka leaned back in his chair and gazed out the window with a small smile and a lighter heart.

Come what may, it'll be an interesting year.

Chapter Text

Sarayashiki shimmered softly under waning waves of dusky orange. Dimly-lit windows illuminated as storefronts flickered their lights to chase off dusk's shadows, darkness stretching long across asphalt painted with neat white lines to separate pedestrian crossings from driving lanes. Eiji followed dutifully behind Takenaka on the sidewalk, eyeing the line as cars ambled up and down the road. He flexed his fingers, digging his nails int othe palms of his hands when their unblinking yellow eyes drifted past him. Enginers purred like the warning of a monster's approach, but as they passed him by, he managed to take a breath and settle the twisting in his stomach.

The sound of brakes screeching stuttered his heartbeat as the sound of children thanking drivers in passing turned his head off to the far side of the road. Churning nausea burned at the back of his throat as his ears flushed with heat when a ball rolled into his line of sight. It stopped just shy of where the lines met, innocently turning once before stopping.

"Mister!" A young voice shouted, and Eiji stiffly jerked his head up toward a group of boys marooned at the other side of the road. One, a bit bolder than the others, flashed a grin when their eyes met and called out, "Could you kick our ball back!?"

The bile in Eiji's throat swirled, thickening into a lump he couldn't quite swallow as his breathing intensified. His heartbeat pounded in his ears when he glanced down at the soccer ball, flinching back as if it would spring to life and bite him. The boys' chatter buzzed at the back of his mind with questions as to why he hadn't moved or wonder about how hard it was to kick a ball. Their voices overlapped with ones much older, taunting and jeering at his fear to cross the street unabated. Such cowardice wouldn't be tolerated at Sarayashiki. But how could they all be in the same year and not feel the pressure of what happened?

What made them so different from him?

He tightened his grip on his briefcase's leather strap, nails pressing hard enough against his palm that his skin burned painfully. Good, the pain was proof that he was still alive. And if he could just course the feeling from his hand to his legs then perhaps he could find where they were. He grasped the sensation and pushed further down to where his feet remained - not rooted to the ground, not frozen with abject horror over the sound of sirens and screams and the body of a classmate—

"Pardon him, boys."

Takenaka's deep timbre broke through the cacophony of sounds, and Eiji glanced up with a start when he realized his teacher was standing there between him and the boys. Takenaka didn't spare a look at him, leaning down to gather the ball in his hands with a grunt of effort. A joke about how he was definitely getting on in years as he wrested up to his feet with the ball tucked beneath his arm. The boys, seemingly forgetting Eiji and renewed with vigor at the prospect of reclaiming their ball, cheered Takenaka on while coaching him on how to kick or throw the ball.

Takenaka laughed heartily at their instructions, taking a step back. Eiji instinctively moved further away when Takenaka reared back his arm but the boys scrambled with pushes and shoves as the ball launched into the air. It sailed over the river of asphalt catching the sunlight on its white patches as it fell wit hteh grace of a shooting star into the brave boy's waiting hands.

He laughed sprightly, basking under his friends' praise and compliments before throwing it behind him with a thanks tossed over his shoulder. Their whooping and hollering cries filled the night as they disappeared into the heart of Sarayashiki's winding streets with the sun at their backs until their shadows were consumed by the shade, and Eiji couldn't see them any longer. A streetlight sputtered to life over head, leaving Eiji staring down at the shadow pressed close to his feet and pressing tightly to the back of his heels. 

The hot blood coursed up to his ears began to cool, leaving him feeling dizzy as the ghost of their laughter floated through his head. He was grateful that they hadn't taken another step toward the street, grateful that a car hadn't come by with an uncaring driver behind its wheel, grateful that it hadn't happened again—

"Eiji-kun."

Eiji inhaled sharply, snapping his head up to find Takenaka facing him now. His lips drew into a firm line, deepening the wrinkles around his wizened face. He seemed so much older under the shade cast by the street lamps around them. Feathery grey plumes gathered near his temples, streaking up into the combed-back waves of sandy blond still thickened at the top of his head. Crows feet pulled at the corner of his eyes, but they remained steady and strong, never wavering. He reached out, grasping Eiji's shoulder with a firm grip. 

"Takenaka-sensei," Eiji started, swallowing the dryness in his mouth as he searched for the words to explain like a drowning man seeking an oasis. 

Takenaka shook his head in return; the hold on Eiji's shoulder loosened as the touch traveled down to his back as he was wheeled away from the side of the road. Now, Takenaka stood as a bulwark between him and the road, half-guiding him until his feet would remember to lift instead of shuffling across the ground. Shame dripped into the back of his eyes, prickling hot as regret bittered on the back of his tongue. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to push the tears away, choking out a terse, "Sensei."

He rolled his shoulder to dislodge the hand clinging to his back. Once the pressure welling up in him was untethered, he felt light as air but the fall of his foot threatened to root him in place once again and he quickly forced another stride to thwart it from taking hold. "Please don't misunderstand me, but.."

Takenaka remained there at the corner of his eye, but Eiji noticed he'd fallen out of step with him as the teacher walked a few paces behind. The weight of his gaze remained though, tracking and observing with the expertise of an instructor accustomed to dealing with wayward students. Eiji's cheeks warmed as he ducked his gaze, adjusting his glasses when they slid down his nose. "I'm grateful you decided to treat me to dinner after the disgraceful face I showed earlier," and now the voice within his mind hissed, but he quickly talked over it before the deluge of panic chanced pouring out of his mouth, "but might I ask why?"

He lifted his head, frowning at the blasé expression on Takenaka's face. Frustration budded at the back of his mind as he pleaded, "If there's something you're trying to tell me, surely there's a better way than this—"

"Some things can only be understood through practical exercise," Takenaka interjected, shrugging half-heartedly with his hands tucked in his pockets. "Call it an old man's lesson. Ah, and we're already here."

"What?" Eiji muttered softly. He looked up, then over his shoulder to where another business stood with its lit windows welcoming those who'd come across its doorstep. Takenaka walked past him, pulling a hand from his pocket to pat his shoulder as he said, "We're here."

Eiji followed dumbly, squinting up at the two-story building and the faint clamor of voices coming from within. Its bright blue awning held up a white rectangular sign nailed right above the doorway, the curtains fluttering in the breeze sweeping Eiji's hair back from his eyes as he stared up at it.

"This place is... Yukimura Diner?" He said questioningly, reading the bold blue and black strokes on its surface.

Yukimura, he thought as Takenaka approached the sliding door with the familiarity of a regular. Where have I heard that name before? 

Takenaka pushed the door open, and a rush of warmth and sound hurtled out onto the tranquil street. Eiji's heart skipped a beat when Takenaka ushered him inside with a wave of the hand. He stumbled after his mentor, sliding the door shut behind him with wide eyes. It was as though he'd been transported to an entirely different world.

The interior of the diner was a combination between a bar, and a sit-down restaurant with booths and tables taking up most of the left-side of the serving floor. On his right was a bar with several occupied stools surrounding a wooden countertop, a lone man at the helm standing guard between a kitchen barely visible from beneath the deep blue and white curtain-hangings covering the window behind him. Clattering pots and pans drowned out by the diner's chatter and the older man behind the counter who glanced up, then waved with a beaming smile, "Welcome in, Takenaka-sensei!" His smile diminished slightly, softening into something that vaguely reminded Eiji of his grandfather. "Oh, you brought someone with you this time. Hello, son."

Eiji clutched his briefcase in front of him, dropping his head in a bow. "G-Good evening, sir. I hope work is treating you well." 

The noise lulled for a split second, and Eiji raised his head confusedly. His mouth dropped open slightly as the men seated around the bar erupted into roaring laughter. Hands slapped against the countertop, gripped onto the sides of the seat to keep their jostled patron from falling to the floor, and not a single face was without a smile. Eiji's eyebrows raised as he looked helplessly to Takenaka, earning a shake of the head and an indulgent smile. 

"You hear that, Taro? The kid can still tell you're a little wet behind the ear," one of the men jeered, throwing his arm around his chortling neighbor.

Another cackled, "Or maybe your age is startin' to show, eh?"

Eiji pressed his lips together, trying and failing to stop the hesitant smile on his lips from wavering as he watched the old man - Taro's - expression. He closed his eyes throughout the onslaught of gibes and barbs, bearing the hardened shell of a sea-weathered captain at the bow of a vessel. It would've been impressive, if the redness at his greyed temples weren't telling of an eventual explosion. Eiji held his breath when Taro's eyes snapped open, reddish-brown burning with determination. 

"I might be gettin' on in the years, but you old windbags keep comin' back for the food, dont'cha?"

He smirked triumphantly, arms folded across his barreled chest and shoulders drawn back prepared for the next blow. It wouldn't come, Eiji thought, noticing the stunned silence from the hecklers. This time, laughter burst from Takenaka with his head tipped back and face brightened with bubbling chuckles. 

"Taro," Takenaka sighed, wiping away an imaginary tear from his eye. "It's always toogood to see you."

Snickers arose from the hecklers as they shared grins, half-hearted shrugs and pushes before returning to their meals and conversations. Takenaka ushered Eiji up to the counter, planting him on one of the stools with a little shove to the shoulder. He knocked his knees against the wooden wall, scrambling to sit up straight when Taro strode down to stand in front of Takenaka. The two clasped hands, smiling like old friends.

"It's good to see you too. You're looking pretty well for your age still," Taro said, sparing a glance in Eiji's direction. "Who's this?"

Eiji clenched his fists against his thigh when Takenaka said, "A junior of mine," and Taro grunted in reply. "I'm treating him to dinner tonight and I could think of no better place than yours."

"Is that right?" Taro laughed, easing his hand out of Takenaka's grip. His fingers curled against his hips as he puffed out his chest, eyes scrunching up in a closed smile. "Couldn't find any other place that'd give you soju on the house, eh?"

He mimed drinking out of a glass, and Takenaka huffed exasperatedly fond. Eiji looked between them, thankful that he'd already been sitting or else he might've fallen over at the thought of Takenaka - straight-laced and no-nonsense Takenaka drinking the night away. Taro caught his eye, smirking with a haughty arch of the brow as if he could tell exactly what he was thinking. Eiji froze, forcing his expression into a neutral one when Taro grinned toothily.

"Welcome to Yukimura Diner, young man," he beat a fist against his chest, right over his heart. "No matter what anyone says, we serve the best tonkotsu ramen in Sarayashiki."

A smile twitched Eiji's lips unbidden, his stomach muscles twinging with hunger. "Is that true?" He asked, glancing between the proud owner and Takenaka.

His teacher propped his arm up, resting his chin in his hand with a slanted glance. "I've never had a meal that failed to impress," he said, sucking his teeth to Eiji's surprise. "Despite the soju limits."

Taro rapped his knuckles atop the counter, startling Eiji into meeting his eyes again. "Interested? How about I give you and your sensei a free cup on the house."

"O-oh," Eiji rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, I wouldn't be opposed. Could you add shoyu to it, Oyakata-sama?"

"Oyakata-sama," Taro rasped out, laughing. "Of course! You're actually in luck, my son-in-law makes some of the best noodles in Japan."

"That's a bold claim," Eiji said, letting his voice rise a bit in pitch when Takenaka chuckled as well. "I can't wait to try them."

"Mn, prepare yourself," Taro turned around with a daring gleam in his eye, and shouted to the back window. "Oi, Yusuke-!" Eiji stiffened up, his smile falling word by word. "Tonkotsu with a helping of shoyu added in!"

"T-Takenaka-sensei," Eiji muttered shakily, drawing his briefcase tightly against his stomach. Wafting scents of savory chicken and seasoned broth turned his stomach when he thought of who could be lying just beyond the innocent fluttering curtains. A faint coppery orange glow from a roaring flame illuminated the edges of the window, almost as if the gate of hell was being opened. "Just where did you bring me?" 

If Takenaka noticed his discomfort, he didn't let on, raising a finger as he called to Taro. "The usual for me, won't you?"

"Coming up! Yusuke, a wagyu roast beef donburi too!" 

Another surge of fire licked hell's light at the window sill, and Eiji paled slightly. 

"Urameshi Yusuke works here?" He asked, turning to Takenaka in desperation. 

Cooly, Takenaka met his eyes. His expression was wholly unreadable. There wasn't any surprise, or concern. He was only watching. It sent a tingle over the back of Eiji's hands, the heaviness in his stomach returning as his heartbeat began to race. 

"Eh? 'Course he does," Eiji turned his head to meet Taro's scrunched nose and drawn lips. The older man looked him over, thick brows knitted together. Eiji swallowed hard. Did he know? Could he see something, the same way that Takenaka seemed to? "Something wrong with you, son?"

"He's been skipping meals throughout the day," Takenaka chimed in, patting Eiji's back lightly. "Seems to've caught up to him, so I brought him by for a hearty meal."

Taro grunted, shaking his head. "I don't know what it is with you young people," he said, resting a hand on the counter as he leaned closer and stared Eiji down. "But you've got to eat your dinner. A man can't work on an empty stomach." 

Eiji gulped, nodding once. "Y-Yes sir."

The curtain rustled again, and Eiji's throat ached as it parted but on the other side wasn't the face of a demon or an old classmate - but an older woman. Taro turned around when she called out, "Dear?", a smile blooming on his face as he came to the window. 

From over his shoulder, Eiji saw the woman's kindly brown eyes soften at Taro's approach. Ah, she must be his wife, he thought.

"You should come back here and help Yusuke," she said, "I'll take over the front." 

Taro laughed boisterously, slapping his hand against his side. "Heh, does he really need a master's help to get things done?" He sighed loudly, shaking his head. "How's he gonna take over the family business at this rate?"

Eiji's eyes widened when he heard a familiar voice shout from beyond the kitchen window, "I dare you to come back here and say that again, you old fossil!"

"Who're you calling a fossil, brat?!" Taro roared back, stomping off toward the door separating the kitchen from the shopfront's floor. Before the curtains could settle, his wife stepped out from behind. The sound of two men bickering beyond being drowned out by the rest of the diner's clamor. She took her place behind the bar, nodding and giving little indulgent smiles to the men who asked about her well-being and if she needed any help reigning in the knuckleheads in the back.

"It's good to see the two of them getting along so well," she laughed, folding her hands in front of her as she bowed lightly to Takenaka. "And it's good to see you as well, Takenaka-sensei."

"It's been awhile since I truly taught," Takenaka said. "And we're far from being strangers to each other, aren't we?"

As she raised her head, the smile lines at the curve of her lips tightened as they followed the familiar draw into a gentle beam. "I'd suppose so. Although, I should apologize. It seems my husband's spent more time boasting than working, I'll get that drink for you two." 

"O-Okugata-sama," Eiji stammered, raising his hand as he clutched his briefcase to his chest like a lifeline. She looked to him, eyebrows raised and hand cupping her cheek with a slight frown.

"Oh my, are you alright?"

"Y-Yes," he choked out. "But could I have two glasses please?"

"Oi, Yusuke!"

"You geezers here again?"

"Is that any way to talk to loyal customers? Besides, it's always a good idea to give the missus a break."

"So you're gonna work me to the bone instead?"

"Aw, don't be like that. How's Keiko doing?"

"Still with her nose in a book most days. I got her to head out with my ma today, so she's probably having the time of her life. So no use trying to snitch to her, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah. How'd that boy of yours turn out to be an angel when you're still such a terror."

"Beats me. He gets his brains from his mom, it'll be his third year of grade school soon."

"It's been that long? Why, it was just yesterday you were walking around serving up ramen with him in a sling."

"Then that means Shiki-chan will be in junior high... the time goes by, you'll be an old man before long, Yusuke." 

"And you three are gonna be giving me hell from the grave too. Refill?"

"Keep 'em coming."

Eiji wasn't sure how many glasses he'd had but the liquor had done the trick. His body buzzed with warmth and a welcomed numbness until the panic of hearing Urameshi Yusuke's name floating around the restaurant did little but send a faint jolt to his system. Snippets of conversation floated to his ears as he brought the glass to his lips, letting the smooth promise of alcohol slide down his throat. He lowered the glass with a heavy sigh, slanting backward when a shadow fell over him. Slack mouthed and wide-eyed, his eyes traveled up from the loosely-tied white apron to a bright green t-shirt, a stubbled chin and the deep brown eyes alight with challenge beneath sweeping dark bangs. 

He knew those eyes anywhere.

"Yo," Urameshi Yusuke said, picking up the empty bowl of ramen in front of Takenaka with a boyish grin. "Waiting long, Takenaka?"

Takenaka scoffed, undeniably fond from the quirk of his smile as if he'd heard a good joke. "That's Takenaka-sensei," he corrected, taking the napkins offered to him. "It's good to see you, Yusuke."

Eiji leaned back slightly, fingers twitching against the warm sides of his glass. This was Urameshi Yusuke? He could remember the boy from years on with his pomade-slicked hair neatly pulled back from his face, and the green jumpsuit that'd become infamous amongst the delinquents back then. Anyone out of his earshot would call him the 'Green Goblin', but the Oni of Sarayashiki suited him best for how terrifying his face was during a fight. Seeing Urameshi Yusuke snickering while Takenaka chided him for not referring to him properly was odd. He almost seemed normal. 

Then, his sharp gaze cut in Eiji's direction and his breath hitched with a squeak. He clapped his hand over his mouth as if trying to seal the noise back in his throat but it'd already broken free before he could stop it. Yusuke's eyebrows furrowed as he tipped his head to Takenaka, never once turning his eyes away from Eiji, "Who's the stiff?"

"You don't recognize him?" Takenaka asked, tapping his empty glass against the side of Yusuke's hand promptingly. "He couldn't stop talking about you today."

Yusuke glanced down at the glass, then gave him an even stare before sighing, "That right?" He picked it up, fishing around beneath the bar for the bottle the proprietress left behind. Giving it a quick twirl, he tipped his head to one side and Eiji wondered if he could hear the alcohol swishing around in all of the noise surrounding them. Or was he just pretending to buy time?

Should I make the first move, Eiji thought. He set his glass down with a sharp clack, and jerked his head up, wobbling a bit with the force. "Egashira Eiji," he proclaimed, faltering a bit when Yusuke glanced in his direction. His voice quieted as he slanted back in his seat slightly, "We were.. classmates at Sarayashiki Junior High."

"Uh-huh," Yusuke muttered dryly, setting down the glass in front of Takenaka with a little push. "Think the drink is kicking your ass more than I did back then.."

"Wh-" Eiji choked, floundering with his hands waving about. "W-We never fought."

Yusuke swept another look over him, seeming to find something funny from the quirk of his lips. It was infuriatingly smug. Like he knew that he would've been able to take him in a fight back then. It wasn't untrue, but to see that haughty look so plain on his face was nothing short of insulting. Frustration and embarrassment warred in Eiji's chest, the liquor a burning coal in his liver.

"Yusuke," Takenaka tersely cut in. Immediately, the fire went out of Yusuke's expression as he dragged his gaze back to their old teacher. His shoulders squared, arms folded loosely across his chest like a scolded child. Eiji burned with humiliation as he leaned back in his seat and scrubbed his hand beneath his eye as Takenaka announced, "Eiji-kun will be Shiki-chan's homeroom teacher."

"That right?" Yusuke said, though this time there was a hint of interest in his voice. When Eiji peeked up from beneath his eyelashes, his mind shrieking that he was in danger from the intent in the (former?) delinquent's eyes. It was as if he was staring right through him and seeing everything before, then, and after. His hair fell loosely around his face now, part of it combed back while the longer uneven pieces were left to drape around his ears. Paired with the scraggly stubbled beard sprouted around his chin, and the lack of a boyish smile, he was scarier than a hannya mask.

Eiji swore for a split second that red glimmered in his eyes, but Yusuke turned his head too fast for hi mto be certain. He flipped a hand rag from his apron's loops to rest on his shoulder, hiking the opposite one in a half-hearted shrug. "We're a little busy tonight so I can't chat long, come by tomorrow once you've sobered up."

"What?" Eiji weakly called after him as Yusuke turned around.

Yusuke cut a glance over his shoulder, backlit by the warm lights coming from the kitchen. "We're gonna have a talk," he said, narrowing his eyes, "Man to man."

Eiji curled his hand in his lap, repeating, "Man to.. man."

"Mn," Yusuke nodded, turning away with a hand waved over his shoulder when Taro called for him from the back. "See ya, Takenaka. Egashira."

"Takenaka-sensei," Takenaka corrected with his glass lifted to his lips. He didn't bother to glance up just as Yusuke didn't look back when he brushed the curtains aside with a snort. 

"Give it a rest," he said. "My kid's the one in your class, bother her about manners." 

The curtain fell shut behind him as he disappeared beyond it, and Eiji felt as if the floor was going to fall out from beneath him.

"Sensei. I think I understand why you brought me here tonight," Eiji murmured, lifting his head from his arms once the world stopped spinning. He should have known all those sips of shoju would've ended up taking a turn for the worse. With the shock of coming face to face with Urameshi Yusuke and being called out by him, the liquid courage he'd mustered up had turned into a double-edged sword. He fumbled for the water bottle Takenaka had procured for him during their short trip to the convenience store, and guzzled down precious mouthfuls before capping it again.

Overhead, Takenaka stood with a cigarette to his lips and his hands tucked in his pockets. He glanced down with vague interest, or perhaps to ensure that Eiji hadn't choked on his water for the umpteenth time. Eiji wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaning forward with his chin planted between the cradle of his kneecaps.

"You wanted me to face Urameshi Yusuke head on," he said to his elongating shadow, dragging his heel against the concrete, "and express my concerns over teaching his daughter, but it's unnecessary."

The light from the store's signs made his shadow stretch much longer than he was tall. It reminded him of when he was in junior high and wanted to grow up already. Being an adult, being someone with power, made the world feel as if it would make a little more sense. But fear trickled into his stomach, solidifying an icy grip around his throat when he thought about the notorious delinquent turned restaurant workhand. How so much of his junior high life had been shaped by his presence when he didn't remember him at all.  

"I'm glad you've come to that conclusion. However, that isn't why I brought you here."

Eiji hiccuped a slurred 'What', and turned his chin to one side until his cheek was resting against his knees. Takenaka looked at him, the cherry pit of his cigarette burning low like a beacon.

"Truth be told, I should have terminated your employment the moment you brought concerns of a student simply because of their parent's past."

Eiji's eyes widened. Termination, he thought dully, pushing upright with his mouth falling open and flubbed protests rattling against the back of his teeth when Takenaka cut him off. 

"I've seen it one too many times - adults acting out their feelings and prejudices on defenseless children," Takenaka turned the cigarette over in his fingers as he blew out a stream of smoke. It twisted, rising up to the sky as Takenaka leaned his head back and watched it. Eiji swallowed harshly, turning his gaze to watch as it dissipated against the dark sky.

"A pain you've experienced firsthand as well.."

Eiji frowned, tightening his fist when he felt Takenaka's hand rest on his shoulder. 

"Eiji-kun. You've grown to be a wonderful young man, no matter what obstacles stood in your path, you did the work to overcome them. And you'll see once you return for that talk with Yusuke that he has as well." 

Eiji lifted his head, stuttering, "B-But sir..."

Takenaka shook his head, raising his hand to wave away the smoke he'd exhaled. "I won't force you to return to speak to Yusuke, Eiji-kun, but I will say this.." He plucked the cigarette from between his lips, giving it a considering look. "If there comes a time in the future that I feel your judgment has been clouded and a student is mistreated - no matter how I might feel for you, I won't stand idly by."

He tipped his chin toward his right shoulder, a shadow passing over his eyes as his voice lowered with challenge. One that was not up for debate. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," Eiji said slowly, letting Takenaka help him up to his feet. 

Takenaka eyed him from head to toe, then nodded, giving him a firm pat on the arm. "Then, let's part ways here for tonight," he said, turning away as he begun to make his way to the sidewalk. Stepping ut of the store lights, his image was gradually reduced to a silhouette while his voice drifted back clearly, "I'll see you in class on Monday, Egashira-sensei."

Eiji clenched his fist, lowering his head as he bowed. "... Until then, sir."

Chapter Text

It's the same thing, day after day…

Eiji breathed in deeply, pain shooting up his right side as the oxygen rattled in his lungs like pennies at the bottom of a tin can. His hand flew to his mouth to force back the rolling tide of bile rising up at the back of his tongue. Acid, bitter and tart, burned when his throat ragged and hard when he swallowed hard. Blood throbbed in his eardrums, sending rippled nausea in waves throughout his head. Garbled, gnawing titters of laughter floated around him like the crying ravens perched on the phone lines overhead. When he managed to raise his chin, sticky lips parting with a wet smack for a rasping cough, a strong grip seized the back of his head and forced his nose down into the damp coppery earth.

In a way, he was grateful for the reprieve from trying to lift against his sore neck. The ground was cool against his cheek, though the small puddle of saliva and blood made it difficult to do more than sputter. If he imagined the soft, damp ground as a pillow and relaxed the rest of his body - would the pain come to an end? Slowly, his shoulders fell to rest against the ground while his legs burned where rocks and gravel dug into the thin fabric of his pants as they slid down to lie boneless against the ground. The hand in his hair alleviated its grip somewhat but he didn't dare rise up against it again, in case the pinching grasp would tear at his tender scalp.

Soon, the ringing in his ears lessened to where he could catch scraps of conversation.

"Tsk, he's only got a fifteen hundred yen on him…" A wheezy, hitched voice said in a grating whine. It distanced as if the speaker had turned to speak to someone else nearby, "What the hell can we get with that?"

A deeper, thrumming baritone huffed, "A can of juice at most," and the fingers in Eiji's hair tightened for a scant second. He begged deep within his mind that they wouldn't tug his hair from his scalp or grind his face into the clay. His throat ached when he swallowed a sob, scrunching his nose tight and clenching his teeth despite the smarting in his jaw. "He must've used up the rest of it on lunch, what was he thinking?"

The hand in his hair didn't move but there was the short drag of rock and gravel before a bolt of lightning ricocheted up his side when something hard connected with his ribs. He spat out a string of saliva, clawing at the ground when the air in his lungs turned to steam and caught in the back of his throat. Coughing and spitting against the ground, he turned his head enough to peer through one scrunched eye at the toe of a loafer being drawn back. It was all he could do to shut his eye before it came hurtling at him, kicking up a cloud of dust before nailing him again in the side.

"You should've come—" Eiji spat and heaved a breath in between the swift blows to his cracking ribs — "to meet up with us before thinking about filling your greedy stomach!"

"Koff—!" The hand in his hair loosened, and Eiji sank to the ground. The shivers coursing throughout his body made the ache in his ribs intensify until the entirety of his left side was on fire. He pressed himself to the ground as close as possible, trying to stop the tremors. Seeing beyond the shattered lenses of his glasses was impossible and he knew better than to reach out to his attackers. His knuckles and palm still burned from the last time he'd managed to catch onto a loose pants leg or shoestring, and had his fingers ground beneath an unmerciful heel.

Bitter tears pooled in in his eyes as the hand in his hair slipped away, and the next kick was yet to come. It was false hope, believing that they'd finally given up in their interest in kicking him around and had left him to lie there. His throat constricted, skin feeling uncomfortably tight as his breaths shortened and quickened to keep the breath that hadn't been snatched from him. It was over, surely it had to be over.

"Eiji-kun," Cold dripped into the base of his spine at the sickeningly sweet croon, fingers threading through his hair with light strokes from the back of his head to the tacky heated skin of his nape. "Was this really all you could scrounge up?"

Heat sprang anew at the back of his head as he searched the darkness behind his eyelids, the pinpricks where light penetrated, anything for a way out. The touch ghosted to his chin, phantom aftershocks thrumming hollowly beneath the skin as his skin tightened with involuntary shivers. When his chin was grasped, and jerked upward, he gritted his teeth at the way his neck muscles stretched to accommodate the pull.

"We're sooo hungry, but you went and ate it all up by yourself…"A nauseatingly sweet, woody smell wafted beneath his nose as the voice cooed. Fingers patting at the hinge of his trembling jaw.

That wasn't the case. It couldn't have been, not when his stomach ached with hunger. He'd given them all he could from what his parents' had set aside for his meals. What more could they want?

His lips parted, parched skin peeling as he rasped, "N-No, that's not wh—"

A sharp crack against his cheek blossomed webbing petals of agony along the side of his head. His ears ringing as the voice above him sighed disdainfully cold, "Who told you that you could speak when I was speaking—" His eyes flew open at the strike, shudderingly wide when strong fingers hooked in his stretched shirt's collar, pulling it taut around his throat as he was half-pulled up to his knees. Eyes darting around from the face half-hidden behind the sun's blinding glare to the shadow of a fist raised in judgment, cast down with a harsh THWACK. "Hah?!"

Over the pang of heat rushing through his face, he heard the arm of his glasses crack. Glass shards cut into the soft skin beneath his eyes as the frames slid from his face, clattering against the ground.

"Geeze," the voice whined, shaking him forward and back. Eiji grunted, his brain sloshing around as he tried his best to stay conscious beneath the onslaught of slaps and shakes. "I really hate doing this to you but you never learn. So you get it right, how much this breaks my heart?"

In the back of his mind, Eiji knew his consciousness was trying to run from the present. Underneath the onslaught of taunts and punches, he could hear the whistle of someone nearby.

The wheezing voice quavered, "Aniki really has a loose screw—"

"Can't be helped," the deeper voice fretted, "being on the receiving end of his love is a death sentence."

Love, Eiji thought, spatting the blood pooling in his mouth. It dribbled warmly down his chin as his head lolled back, eyes blearily opening to stare up at the hazy twilit sky. Was this really love? What sort of twisted affection did these guys believe in that they would push someone to this point?

But this isn't the first time I've felt like this either…

Love was a note pinned to a pre-packaged bento clearly from the convenience store up the street. It was a doodled smile within a heart written by the lady next door who nervously twiddled her fingers when asking if he'd been eating well. She'd never been able to get his mother's handwriting right, but at this point, he knew hers better than his own mom's. If love was an empty house, four walls reflecting the vastness within his heart waiting to be painted with the coming dawn rays after a sleepless night - then wasn't this a better alternative?

If I pretended this was normal, would it not hurt anymore?

"Eiji-kuuuun…"

His head lolled forward as he was pulled forward into the hazy cloud of sweet-smelling smoke. The undercurrent of danger, a whispered threat at the tip of his nose threw his eyes open wide when those snarling lips bared at him through the fog aside a glowing vermillion circle.

"Look at me."

Don't—

His breath caught, picking up as he tried to pull back as the circle came closer. The head exuding from it in waves brushed against his skin with wicked promise, and the old pains flared up around his body in warning.

Please—!

A strong gust of wind pushed him back as a green blur darted too fast for his eyes to catch. The vermillion circle whisked away, and the taunting voices broke into screams of fright and confusion. Eiji stumbled backward, strength fleeing from his legs as he sank to the ground on hand and knee. What was that? His heart hammered against his ribs as he searched the ground for his glasses. Even if they were broken, it would have been better to be able to see a hit coming than stand dumb and blind. When his fingers curled around the familiar grain of his glasses' arm, he picked them up gingerly, brushing the dirt and broken shards to the ground.

The frames settled awkwardly on his nose, lop-sided but close enough that he could see through the clouded glass. For a few moments, he tried to slow his breathing and gather his surroundings. Beer cans littered the ground, cigarette butts stamped into tiny discs no larger than the pebbles half-sunken into the grass. But the boys who'd been crowded around him weren't there. He turned his head one way, wincing at the throbbing in the back of his neck. A hand raised to cup the side of it when he heard a gruff, clipped voice that sent chills down his spine.

"That mug of yours would have me kissing the dirt too, would be a much better sight."

He jerked his head up despite his muscle's protests and gawked at the herded boys standing closer to the stone wall. They trembled and shot one another nervous glances, wholly unaware of his presence. Usually, they would have forced him back to the ground if they'd notice him getting up perceiving it as a means of trying to fight back. But now, it was like they couldn't care less that he was there. Even the boy in front of them, whose white uniform shirt rumpled in the center with a large footprint, stood on shaky legs with a grumbled, "U-Urameshi… Yusuke."

Urameshi?

Eiji's eyes drifted to the right, cold settling in the pit of his stomach as sweat dripped from his temple to his chin. There, dusting off his shoulders and rolling his neck was the Oni of Sarayashiki. He tucked one hand in the pocket of his baggy green jumpsuit, blowing a few errant strands of hair from where they fell in front of his eyes. With his hair slicked back and the wrinkle between his brow deepening, he seemed much older than a third year. Eiji took an unconscious step back when Urameshi Yusuke's face darkened with disgust.

"Oi, who said you could call me by my name?" He stalked forward, crowding the boys back when they tried to scramble away from him. A few spilled out to the side, trying to avoid being caught within his line of sight.

The boy abandoned in his crosshairs shrieked when Urameshi Yusuke seized him by the front of his shirt and dragged him close til they were nose to nose.

"You think we're friends?" He asked, the tone less inviting for rebuttal as it was building the anticipation of something coming. Goosebumps raised on Eiji's arms, and the hair on his nape prickled when he saw Urameshi Yusuke's fingers curl into a fist at his side. "Then let's get real acquainted."

The boy must have noticed as well as he shouted to his friends, "W-What're you doing? He's just one person, why're you all standing there like that?"

One of the boys, stout in stature but weak in heart took another backward step, "A-Aniki, you know the rumors, don't you?"

The other, weasely-looking and faint said, "Urameshi Yusuke's got connects — connects — like to the yakuza and stuff."

"Don't tell me you actually believe th—!" The boy shouted before a sound like a gunshot cut him off. If Eiji hadn't been watching, he would've thought it was a gun but he'd seen the arc of Urameshi Yusuke's arm as it sailed right toward its target. Slamming home in the center of the boy's face, crunching bone and garbled speech into one as his head ricocheted off the fence. Its rattling joined his sputtering breath and the cries from the others around him.

"A-Aniki!"

Urameshi Yusuke hummed, smiling slightly at his knuckles. It looked as if he was almost going to laugh. The shafts of orange light cutting across his features darkened the shade of his eyes, and the curve of his lips into a wicked grin. "Wow, that didn't feel like much of anything…" He turned his focus back to the boy in his grasp and Eiji shuddered. The way his eyes rolled back in his head, and his arms hung limp at his sides, there was no way that he was still conscious. Urameshi Yusuke harrumphed, opening his hand to let the boy crumple to the ground. "Guess he doesn't wanna become friends, but what about you guys?"

He glanced over his shoulder, and Eiji wished his legs would just move before those eyes fell on him.

"Feel like getting close and personal?"

The other boys screamed and shouted for help as they shoved one another aside in their haste to run toward the open yards. They hurtled past Eiji who flattened himself against the wall when he'd finally managed to get his legs to move, watching them go in abject horror.

So this is the Oni of Sarayashiki, Eiji thought, turning back to see Urameshi Yusuke kicking the downed boy in the stomach.

"Gross fucker," Urameshi Yusuke spat, crushing the still-burning cigarette under his heel. "There goes my dinner."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, turning around with a glare.

Eiji swallowed hard, shutting his eyes tightly. He waited for one second then another but when nothing came, he opened one eye and saw Urameshi Yusuke stalking past without a look in his direction. Was he going to check and see if anyone else was out there, attracted by the other boys' cries for help? Or maybe he was going to track them down because he still wanted a good beatdown. Eiji stared at his distancing back, then searched the ground before spying the thousand yen note lying on the ground.

His body protested as he dove for it, snatching it up before clawing up to his feet. "W-Wait…!" He cried, scrunching his eyes against the blurriness of the green specter. The note held out between his trembling hands in supplication as his legs gave out once again, and he fell to the ground with a jolt.

"H-Here., please…"

Gravel crunched beneath heavy footsteps, and all Eiji could hear was the approaching presence of the notorious delinquent and his own labored breathing. What would happen if Urameshi Yusuke didn't accept this offering? Why did he draw attention to himself when he could've gone unnoticed if he'd just kept his mouth shut? What if those boys came back for him again?

If he has connections with the yakuza, maybe if I pay him protection money then.. then I could go back to school…

The pressure in his head began to lighten as his sight wavered. Staring at the ground, the dirt and clay began to mingle together even when the sight of dark shoes was right beneath his nose. Nothing was said by the one who wore them but somehow existing within his shadow for that brief second made everything nerve and tendon in Eiji's body loosen.

Like normal…

"Hang on, oi—!"

His eyes drifted shut as he fell forward, and the world went black.

BEEP! BEEP!

"Huh?" Eiji groaned, rubbing away the crusted patches at the corner of his eyes as he reached with his other hand to turn off his alarm clock. His hand slipped from the buttons to fumble around his nightstand for his glasses. Once the frames were within the curl of his palm, he pulled them to his face and opened the arms to tuck them onto his nose. His eyes cracked open, wincing against the sunlight streaming through the windows.

One hand raised to shield his eyes from the dazzling light, while the other pushed the weighted blanket off his legs. The sound of clattering objects drew his attention further down the bed where his laptop laid open, a notebook littered with scribbles. He rocked up to his hips, rubbing along his sides and the back of his neck. Phantom pains thrummed throughout his body but experience reminded that the wounds wouldn't be there even if he looked for them throughout the day.

Did seeing him yesterday bring memories of that day back?

Eiji tucked his hand under his laptop's cooling vents, shutting the lid before moving it to his bedside table. The notebook settled in his lap as he ran his eyes over the musings from his drunken self. Shame warmed his cheeks as he thought about Takenaka-sensei, and the way that he'd had to be escorted home after clumsily trying to bid him farewell. The cup of water and emptied convenience store snack wrappers from a night of idle musing were symbols of his crime, but he hoped the principal wouldn't hold it against him too much. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh, glancing up to the ceiling.

Takenaka-sensei said he wouldn't force me to see Urameshi Yusuke, but can I really stand in front of a class where his daughter is knowing that I hid from her father?

He tried to imagine his classroom. He would arrive early to ensure that all of his lesson plans were in proper order, and that he'd written his name on the board as legible as possible. Armed against the jokes about his name from the prankster kids, and thin excuses for any personal questions that would come his way from the impersonal ones. Standing behind the podium as he called out roll, glancing up to equate face to name of the children under his care. On the other side, students weary from the loss of their freedom over the vacation or riddled with excitement at starting their junior high days would fill the seats from wall to wall. Amongst them would be her — Urameshi Shiki — and there his mind drew a blank.

What face would he greet her with?

Would she know the kind of person he was at a glance, or be oblivious to it?

"A talk man-to-man," Eiji whispered, curling his hand into a fist over the written conversation starters. There was no way he could try to talk to Urameshi Yusuke while putting on airs. He might not have been the brightest student or the kindest person, but he was a father. All children wanted to protect their children on some level, didn't they?

Eiji glanced at the photograph on his bedside table, unable to see the face of the older man holding a small version of himself packed with mud and seeming to laugh at the top of his lungs.

"… Right, dad?"

In the early daylight, the road to Yukimura Diner was oddly less daunting. Eiji chalked it up to a lack of feeling like a scolded child being led to the principal's office for another round of uncomfortable talks and tense silence dressed up as reflection. Peering into the window of a nearby shop, Eiji ran his fingers over his neatly combed hair and toyed with the ends of his shirt's collar. As impromptu and unusual as it was arranged, this would be one of his first visits with his student's parent and he couldn't be seen as a slob. He stared hard at his reflection, eyeing the left part in his dark hair and the way it curled at his temple. Brown eyes squinted back at him, considering and wondering as he brushed the invisible wrinkles from his beige button-up and turned around to ensure it was tucked properly in his trousers.

"Whoever you're going to impress, I'm sure you've done a good job at it already, sonny."

He inhaled sharply at the sudden address, turning fast on his heel to find the door to the shop had opened. An old man peered out, a smile on his wizened face as he waved off Eiji's vehement apologies. Head bowed, and steps brisk, Eiji hurried down the street until the shop couldn't be seen and the waving old man's cries of good luck were lost to the quiet streets once more. The air was crisp and cool as it rolled over his skin, blowing over his clothes with the guiding hand to urge him forward. The quiet occasionally broke with the distant sound of passing cars on the side streets. His stomach seized up at the sound but he blew out a sigh when it passed, stepping over old water in standing puddles beneath hooked gutters. Without the glow of the street lamps to guide him, or press shadows further ahead to coax him into a harried sprint, he had a moment to admire the glow on the white-washed walls of nearby buildings.

There was a golden hue illuminating everything, tracing the edges of tree leaves as he passed beneath them. Slivers of glinting golden light peeking between the cracks that he raised his hand to, shielding his eyes in passing until the bright blue sky littered with fluffy white clouds could be seen.

It's a beautiful day…

Eiji smiled, heart fluttering as he looked ahead. When the crosswalk changed and he passed by with only himself for company, his eyes drifted to the left where the empty four-way intersection remained. His head tilted to one side at the distant sound of sirens, and he shut his eyes tightly to the grudging rise of memory.

It'll be alright, because I'll make it so.

He tightened his fist at his side, pushing on down where the sidewalk was a bit uneven and the iron divider separating the main road from the sidewalk made his heart race. Soon, the blue awning of Yukimura Diner was visible over the treetops. Eiji took a deep breath, then clamped his mouth shut and trudged forward. The shop's windows weren't lit considering the early hours but someone was sitting on the front steps and blocking the doorway. When he'd gotten a bit closer, Eiji saw it was a child. They didn't seem to notice his presence, sitting with their elbow propped up on their knee and cheek in hand.

He couldn't tell whether they were a boy or girl, but they couldn't have been older than an elementary school-aged child. A thick mane of curly dark hair fell over their shoulders, half-obscuring their eyes beneath fluffy bangs. Their arms and legs were at least covered in a baby blue hoodie and khakis to ward off the morning's chill, and their sneakers didn't appear too worn for anything outside of a child's typical play.

His eyes searched up and down the street then to the diner's closed door. Could it be possible that their parents were somewhere nearby, or did they come here by themself to wait for the restaurant to open? They were so still that Eiji couldn't have been sure they were breathing. If they weren't sitting upright, then he would've believed they were still as death.

All thought of his previous mission had begun to slip away when the possibility of a lost child loomed its head. Floundering a little between waking them and trying to find someone to call, Eiji scratched behind his right ear then called out softly, "Are you alright?"

Slowly, like the blooming of a flower, the child roused to the sound of his voice and turned to look in his direction. Bright green eyes gawked sleepily at Eiji from beneath the shading bangs, crescent-shaped and heavy-lidded as if they were still waking. He leant forward a little when their head started nodding downward as if they were about to sink back into unconsciousness.

"There's better places to sleep than this, you know," Eiji warned, glancing left then right as he crouched down a little to offer his hand. "Where's your parents?"

Could they be a foreigner? That's more troublesome. How good is my English still?

"… You're late, Megane-ojisan."

Ah, they speak Japanese… Eiji thought with relief, then faltered a bit with a heavy blink. Wait, Megane-ojisan?

The child's head raised, a smile on their lips as they leaned back to rest their hands on the steps behind them. "I was wondering when you'd get here, or if you'd even bother to show up," they continued, waving one hand dismissively. "But now that you're here, Mako's gonna be real mad. He's gonna owe me dessert."

Self-assured, and even boldly grinning with the look of a pleased cat, the child seemed to be lauding over some victory. Eiji's face fell as he drew back, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "Have we met before? How did you know I would be coming here?"

The child stretched their arms above their head, groaning into a happy sigh. "Doesn't matter," they said, springing to their feet. "Uncle Yusuke went to Kaidan, so he won't be back for another ten minutes. Aunt Keiko is inside though."

They turned around, pushing open the restaurant door then glancing over their shoulder with a toothy smile. "Don't chicken out now," they said before disappearing past the door's threshold.

Eiji's stomach dropped a tad before the thought crossed his mind of what the child said — Aunt Keiko?

He tilted his head back, reading the kanji written on the sign again.

Yukimura… Keiko? It couldn't be, right?

As if in a daze, Eiji followed the child's footsteps. His heart leaping when the restaurant door snapped shut behind him. He looked over his shoulder, spellbound and disconcerted. The atmosphere within the diner lacked the noise from a full house. Instead, there was the trickle and burble of water somewhere off in the distance and the rich, nutty scent of coffee being brewed. Chairs were turned up onto their tables, the upholstery of the booths sparkling under the sun rays filling the windows from the opened blinds. The floors were awash with morning light, and the thin shadows lingering on the countertops and walls weren't as imposing.

The child wandered over to the counter, pulling themself up onto one of the barstools before waving a hand in Eiji's direction. He looked around before deciding the gesture was indeed meant for him and following suit to sit with a seat between them. The child cupped his hands beneath his chin, elbows propped up on the counter and feet kicking lightly. A light hum filled the warm air, and Eiji smiled a bit to himself. Although the knowing looks and words were a little off-putting, a child was a child through and through. He turned his eyes toward the walls, glossing over the equipment and glassware half-noticed and ignored from the night before. A coffee pot set closest at the edge of the counter, still dripping into the carafe as steam rose from the funnel at the top. It rose into the air, drifting aimlessly through every opening allotted - the window peeking into the kitchen, the emptied floor, and—The door hangings where Urameshi Yusuke disappeared the night.

They were still and Eiji couldn't help but watch them as if they would come alive, and the man he awaited would appear. But he remembered the child's warning and sighed, listening to their hums as he began to shift his gaze again. He blinked at the sight of a photograph on the wall near the door bearing several faces he'd never seen before, but almost dead center was Urameshi Yuusuke, smiling with a thumbs up.

When wa—

"Was there someone at the door, Asahi-kun?" Eiji startled when a woman's voice broke the stillness. It didn't sound like the gentle, accented voice of the proprietress but a mellow, almost lilting one pleasant to the ear.

"En," the child — Asahi-kun, Eiji corrected in his mind — answered, "It's Uncle's guest."

A shadow appeared on the wall beyond the curtains, and Eiji gulped as they parted. His face warmed when a woman appeared on the other side. She patted down the wrinkles in her crisp white apron, then tugged her red sleeves down until they were settled comfortably against her arms. Chestnut brown hair swung at her waist when she turned around to check on the coffee maker, part of it drawn back into a half-ponytail with a soft blue ribbon. When she turned around, pretty brown eyes flicked up and over Eiji before crinkling at their corners as she smiled gently.

"Oh, I see. You're Egashira-san, right? My husband told me about you yesterday."

Husband, Eiji thought dismally. Of course she would have been married. He swore he heard a chuckle by his side, but when he glanced in Asahi-kun's direction, the boy was smiling innocently.

Yukimura Keiko— wait…

Eiji's eyes widened. "Y-You're…" He started, flubbing over his tongue as her softly-smiling face was superimposed in his mind by one much younger. One of the most admirable girls in his time at Sarayashiki Junior, and the one no guy could hope to get close to out of fear of Urameshi Yusuke.

They were only bold enough to try once it seemed like he was dead.

"We all went to school together," she said, her mouth still upturned into a lazy smile. "Though I don't know if you'd remember it with how long it's been. I'm—"

"Yukimura Keiko!" Eiji blurted out, then smacked a hand over his mouth embarrassedly.

She blinked at him. Her eyes flickered away toward the snickering boy at Eiji's side. Mortified, he sank down in his seat and crossed his arms atop of the counter, trying to will himself away at this moment. Even a grade schooler was laughing at him, what a fine way to have started out this meeting.

"Well, it's Urameshi Keiko now," she said softly as if trying to spare any more blows to his pride, "but yes."

"I can't believe it," Eiji sighed, rubbing his fingers at his temple. "So, you and Urameshi—"

"You guessed it, I married the number one punk of Sarayashiki—" The nutty aroma thickened beneath his nose and Eiji gasped softly when he looked down, finding a cup of coffee sitting right in front of him. A dainty hand settled on the counter beside it, and he snapped his gaze up to meet a hardened set of reddish-brown eyes boring into him intently, "So?"

Eiji held back an embarrassing squeak, pulling back slightly. "N-Nothing, it's just uhm… congratulations," he ducked his head a little as he searched for the words, scratching his cheek. "I wasn't aware that you both were, well.. looking back on it, it might've been obvious."

He heard a lot about their infamous relationship. From what their former classmates said, the two of them couldn't have been more unalike. But the fierce stare she'd leveled on his head reminded him of Urameshi Yusuke's cutting glare. She'd always been considered a sweetheart, and the "dream girl" of the boys. Was being married to Urameshi Yusuke enough to change someone so drastically? Or, could it be that none of them knew her at all. The two of them were childhood friends, there might have been a side of Yukimura Keiko that only he knew.

One that she was only comfortable showing to him.

As realization dawned on Eiji, a voice cut in from beside, breaking their stalemate.

"Oba-san," Eiji's lips parted slightly when he remembered the boy sitting near them. He'd been so quiet aside from the few giggles and hums that he'd been giving earlier that Eiji had almost forgotten he was there. Keiko didn't seem as surprised, nodding down to him with a slight smile. He tipped his head a little, smiling crookedly, "Is Mako up yet?"

Keiko touched a finger to her chin, glancing off. "Hm, probably not, but it's late enough that he should be getting up soon," she said.

Eiji followed her line of sight, eyebrows raised when he noticed the shadow of a staircase rising up from along the back-wall. There were two stories from what he remembered after seeing the building in the daytime. So, the second floor must have been where the Urameshi family lived.

Asahi-kun leapt off his stool, landing soundlessly on the tip of his sneakers before making a beeline toward the stairs. "I'm gonna go tell him the good news," he said, tamping up the staircase.

Eiji blinked. For someone who was practically falling asleep during his first impression, he certainly had a good amount of energy leftover.

"Alright," Keiko sighed, good-naturedly and exasperated. She cupped her hand around her mouth, calling up after his retreating back, "But no roughhousing up there!"

"Kay!" He shouted back, and from her heavy sigh, Eiji doubted that it was a promise he'd fully thought about before making.

With the sudden distraction gone, Eiji glanced down at the coffee cup, hooking his fingers in the handle. "So, was he your nephew?" He asked, blowing on the steam before bringing it to his lips for a sip.

The taste of vanilla warmed his tongue, and he sighed. It was definitely soothing to his frayed nerves. Keiko turned away from him to fiddle with something behind the counter. Dishware clattered, and her hands moved expertly as she flitted from one side of the bar to the next as she talked.

"Mm, something like that. He's the son of two family friends, and close in age to ours, so they play together a lot."

Close in age to theirs?

Eiji sputtered on his next sip, and took the handkerchief offered to him, "I was under the impression you both only had one child."

"Well, we're a family full of surprises," Keiko said, a laugh underlying in her voice. She turned away, picking up another mug from one of the racks behind her. "Makoto's a ways off from junior high, so you won't have to worry about teaching two Urameshi for awhile yet."

Eiji nodded along with it, looking down as he took another sip. So far, the idea of them being a "family full of surprises" was correct. He'd come across not only Urameshi Yusuke, but the fact that he'd married his childhood friend and had not one but two children. One junior high-aged, and the other elementary. Not to mention, he actually had friends close enough that their children would spend time at his shop. Looking up to the photograph that he'd noticed, Eiji glanced between the face of Urameshi Yuusuke and Keiko.

Who was the blue-haired girl on her left side? And was that Kuwabara Kazuma behind them? When had the two of them become friendly enough to take a photo together? The red-haired man on Yusuke's right seemed respectable, almost gentlemanly. He stood out in the midst of the rest of them dressed in casual clothing, and with the odd combination of his hair and eyes, he probably stood out elsewhere as well. Was he a foreigner of some kind?

His eyes are green, Eiji thought, glancing toward the staircase. Could he be Asahi-kun's father?

Though, the boy didn't have dark hair. It could possible that he inherited it from his mother's side. The peach-tan tone of his skin could have also been from her as his father was of a fairer complexion.

In fact, it was closest to the shortest one in the photograph with a shock of dark hair and black and white clothes. He seemed downright villainous at first glance, if not unwittingly part of whatever event they were commemorating. Were these the friends Keiko had been talking about?

Certainly a motley crew of characters. Though, they all did look quite happy together.

I never thought Urameshi Yusuke could smile like that.

Eiji's lips parted slightly, at a loss as he looked down to his cup and the brown-tinted reflection of his mesmerized face.

I don't believe I knew much about him to begin with.

He tightened his grip on the handle, closing his eyes against the torrent of humiliation. His face would have burned scarlet with it if he hadn't foisted it down into a deeply heaved sigh. Glancing up, he met the confused gaze of Yuki— Urameshi Keiko. After a contemplative silence, he pulled himself upright and squared his shoulders as he said, "Urameshi Yusuke asked me to come here for a talk, man-to-man."

Her eyebrows raised. She didn't seem too surprised, but as her eyes searched his, he hadn't expected the answer. "And how're you feeling about it?"

Eiji faltered for a second from how detached she sounded about it, searching his thoughts before smiling hesitantly, "Truth be told, I feel as if I'm going to waste this lovely coffee you've given me."

Keiko covered her mouth with the back of her hand to hide a laugh, the other holding onto a mug decorated with a childish doodle of a purple blob-like creature with a shock of black atop its head… assumingly. "Admitting you're uneasy about something is a good first step," she said, taking a sip of her coffee before asking, "Have you eaten yet?"

Eiji opened his mouth to tell her she didn't need to offer him anything when his stomach growled loudly in protest. He puckered his lips shut, trying to quell his stomach's groans with a pat while she laughed heartily.

"I'll take that as a no," she said, waving her hand and brushing away any insecurities he might've had about her hosting him. "Wait here a minute, I'll be right back."

She left her cup on the back counter as she disappeared past the door hangings. Within seconds, tantalizing smells drifted from the open window and Eiji pleaded with his stomach not to embarrass him once more. He leaned back in his seat, turning his eyes up to the ceiling with a slight frown.

"I shouldn't lie to the parents of my student. Truth be told, I'm… unsure if I'll be a proper fit to teach your daughter," he said. There was no pause in the fussing within the kitchen but Eiji considered she must have been listening nonetheless. "When Takenaka-sensei and I came here last night, it was a test to see if I could withstand Urameshi Yusuke's presence without falling over myself. It's been years since we were in junior high but I could hardly muster a word or two when he was looking at me. I know it's improper to say in front of his wife but he's terrifying."

Again, not a word was given in reply but soon enough Keiko appeared again with a steaming breakfast tray and sat it down before him. He took the offered chopsticks with a polite nod, swallowing the pooling saliva in his mouth to choke out a, "Thank you."

He managed to keep down the first morsel of food before she spoke, "I can't say that I don't get what you mean…"

Eiji glanced up from his plate, eyebrows raised when he noticed her gazing over her shoulder in the direction of the photograph.

"Yusuke… has been through a lot over the years. It was even difficult for me to understand all the ways he was changing," she turned around, picking up her coffee cup. "But Egashira-san, you're not teaching Yusuke. You're teaching Shiki."

Eiji nodded numbly, keeping his eyes on her as she faced him.

"You've never met her before, but she's got a heart as good as her father's," Keiko said, adding with a little laugh, "And all they care about is if their people are happy and healthy, and that they're not bored out of their minds."

An idle student with a creative imagination could be a double-edged sword for any educator. Remembering half the pranks Urameshi Yusuke was known for, Eiji dreaded to think what his daughter could come up with.

"But Yusuke wouldn't go picking a fight with Shiki's teacher if he didn't think that it was in her best interest," Keiko set down her coffee cup on the counter, then leaned in close with her hand cupped around the side of her mouth. "Between you and me, he's a big softie when it comes to his family."

"I heard that."

Eiji jolted as if he'd been struck with ten thousand volts of lightning, turning to look at the doorway which was now open. When had that happened? He couldn't have missed it, or was he so entranced in what Urameshi Keiko was saying that he forgot about it altogether? As he tried to piece together how he could've missed it, Urameshi Yusuke stepped over the threshold with what looked like a ton of grocery bags hooked onto his arms.

Eiji could only stare in awe as he brought the bags to the counter, dropping them with relative ease. It was as though he'd taken everything from the supermarket that he could carry and the sheer size of his haul was enormous. Keiko's sigh broke Eiji out of his trance, her brows knitted together as she began to parse through the bags, taking peeks into one after another with a tut or curious hum. "Isn't this a little much?" She asked, pointing into one of the bags.

Urameshi Yusuke grunted, clutching one of his shoulders as he gave his arm a few rolls then alternated to the other. "Little asskicker's home after a long weekend," he said, stretching his arms above his head before letting them fall with a relieved sigh. "Her and our boy wonder'll eat anything they can get their hands on at the rate they're growing. Not to mention the little firecracker we've got with us."

There was something undeniably fond slipping beneath the lackadaisical drawl of his voice. A smile touched Keiko's lips as she shook her head, though Eiji doubted that she wholeheartedly disagreed. Their children must have had voracious appetites, though he could stand to reason part of the shopping was for the restaurant as well. It was a logical solution rather than thinking three children could eat several times their weight in food. The amount alone would have kept him fed for three months.

Urameshi Yusuke turned his head sharply in Eiji's direction, halting all manner of thought and breath when he opened his mouth after a deep inhale. Was this I—

"Oi, Makoto! Asahi!" He shouted toward the staircase, "Get down here and help with the bags!"

Eiji exhaled slowly. What… was that?

"We're coming, dad!" A voice shouted from above.

Almost immediately, footsteps thundered from above and hurtled toward the staircase as if an avalanche was descending on the store floor. Keiko cupped her hand around her mouth and called up a cautious warning but the two children who'd sprung into view after taking a leaping dive off the last few steps only heeded with a vague 'okay' and a sheepish 'sorry, mom'. Eiji glanced between them, though his attention was taken by the unfamiliar child.

This must be Makoto, he thought with wonder. Considering the terrible stories surrounding Urameshi Yusuke in his youth, Eiji wasn't sure what to make of his son. Would he be as terrible as his father? Or would his mother's wild card personality offset some of the volatile behavior?

Looking at the two boys bickering at the foot of the stairs, it was like night and day, almost literally. The boy practically glowed with cheer, rustling the back of his tousled dark brown hair as his friend pointedly made the case for their lateness being his habit of sleeping like the dead. There was still the tell-tale sign of mischief, a tongue stuck out when his friend jabbed his finger in the middle of his forehead while asking what he found funny.

"Whoever takes the most groceries in the kitchen and puts them away gets to have half of dessert back," Makoto-kun challenged, crossing his finger with Asahi-kun's.

Asahi-kun scowled, seeming less impressed with the wager. Eiji wondered what this dessert they were both betting on could be. "You already lost one bet, and you're making another one?"

"Best two out of three," pleaded Makoto, practically glowing as he pulled back and marched toward the counter. He rolled his sleeves up, single-mindedly focused as he walked past without acknowledging Eiji once. "I'll win this time."

"If you say so," Asahi hummed, following him with his arms crossed behind his head. He glanced up at Eiji in passing, giving a wink before submitting himself to being laden with bags.

Soon, both children's arms were weighed down by a heap of bags. It was less than what Urameshi Yusuke carried inside but still a bit much for children their age in Eiji's opinion. Though, another surprise reared its head as the two shared a look before treading back toward the stairs. Makoto grunted with exertion while Asahi snickered, goading his friend into keeping up.

"They're pretty strong for grade schoolers," Eiji said as the boys disappeared upstairs.

He turned back in Keiko and Yusuke's direction when Yusuke snorted, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Keiko tsk'd at her husband, and swatted at his arm. A look passed between them though it was an indiscernible one Eiji wasn't sure he could tell or would have been privy to if he wasn't sitting in their vicinity. Yusuke smirked and Keiko shook her head before looking in his direction, "They're growing boys, that's all."

CRASH!!

Eiji jumped at the sound of glass shattering, and jerked his head toward the stairs in alarm. Keiko swept into view before he could move a muscle, making her way up the stairs when Makoto called down the steps, "—! Don't worry, I'm— er— We're okay!"

Keiko sighed. "I'll make sure they're not destroying anything up there," as she started to ascend the staircase, she paused on one of the steps and squinted over her shoulder. "Take it easy."

Eiji wondered what that could mean until one of the bar stools beside him clattered, and groaned under a heavy weight.

"Yeah, yeah," Urameshi Yusuke sighed, drawing his attention to him. The man carelessly waved away his wife's fretting and after a moment of staring, Keiko continued up the stairs—

Leaving the two of them alone.

Eiji gulped, staring down at the remnants of his half-eaten breakfast. This didn't look good, did it? He was supposed to be here for a parent-teacher conference, a man-to-man talk, but he'd let himself get swept into the unfamiliar circumstances surrounding him. Not only that but he was being treated to a meal by the wife of the man he'd dreaded being in the presence of only yesterday. Fate had an odd way of turning scholars into fools.

"Got somethin' on your mind again, stiff?"

Eiji looked up from his plate, meeting sepia-colored eyes staring at him with half-lidded boredom. "Pardon?" He asked.

Urameshi Yusuke propped his elbow up on the counter, tucking his chin against the curve of his fingers. "I'm bettin' Takenaka egged you on to coming by in the first place," he said, and Eiji's breath hitched. How did he—? "So? What do you think of my kid, sensei? She a lost cause already?"

Eiji watched him, stunned to silence. His throat felt constricted, and the pressure in the air was almost palpable. A softie for his family, perhaps, but he was an absolute monster when it came to presence. Not a single finger was lifted and Eiji already felt as if he was being crushed by his stare. He urged himself to think, recalling Keiko's encouragements and what little he'd seen of the Urameshi's home life. When all of them were present, it felt as if the air was warm and cozy, settled around him like a well-worn blanket. Even though he hadn't participated actively in a lick of conversation, just watching them from the outside-in passed one thought through his mind: this is what a family should be.

Though, he'd still yet to have seen Urameshi Shiki—

"I don't believe so," Eiji finally said, his pulse skittering when Urameshi Yuusuke's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Y'sure?"

Eiji gulped, clutching the chopsticks in his hand tighter. He tried to stir up an image of what his eventual student would be like from what he'd seen and heard, but nothing was there aside from a cobbled-together silhouette of words. Even then, he knew in his heart what he wanted to say — "No child is a lost cause."

His shoulders squared as he looked fully at Urameshi Yusuke, taking in his menacing stare and blank expression. His disheveled appearance at first glance could've been considered slovenly but a second glance yielded Eiji a second impression, perhaps he stopped caring what others would think of him and decided to grow into his own. Rugged as he appeared, there was the signs of a loving husband and father in the way he spoke to his wife and challenged his son.

What did it mean for his daughter then?

"It falls to the adults in their lives to properly teach and guide them," Eiji explained, catching the spark of intrigue in Yusuke's eyes as he shifted his lazy posture somewhat. "If a child grows into ruin, then part of the blame falls on the ones who were meant to be their guidance."

At this, Eiji hesitated before continuing, "That's the burden teachers bear."

Yusuke snorted, slapping his hand against his knee with a chuckle, "Geeze, you sound like Takenaka."

Eiji exhaled softly, scratching his cheek with a sheepish smile, "Well, he was our teacher, after all."

"Mn, yeah," Yusuke tilted her head, glancing off somewhere to the right. "He's always been a busy-body, but his heart's in the right place at least."

He sucked in a breath, stretching out his legs then planting his heels on the lower rungs of Eiji's stool. In one fluid motion, he hauled himself closer with his arms resting on his knees. The distance between them closed considerably and up-close, Eiji could see the warning behind his placid gaze. It was as if he was trying to etch his next few words into Eiji's being, and was practically daring him to turn a blind ear to it.

"I can't imagine teaching a class full of snot-nosed brats, but you'd better be ready," Urameshi Yusuke startled brusquely, then his mouth hooked into a daring smirk. "My girl's not like anyone else."

He held up a finger as he listed out his reasonings, adding another for each one, "If you got her attention, she'll give it her all. But I wouldn't bullshit her with that holier-than-thou crap, she's definitely got her mom's temper. She's a quick learner, but not the studying type. Far from the model student but she's her own kind. Any questions?"

Eiji searched his gaze as he tried to piece together what he'd been told. There was an almost predator-likeness to his eyes. As if he could see right through Eiji and would tear him apart with his bare hands if he dared to try and lie to him. His lips parted, then pressed together as his will faltered. He breathed in deeply, then parted his lips to ask the question burning at the back of his mind. "Do you believe I'm suited for teaching your daughter? I thought you wouldn't approve, since—"

"Y'think I'd be sitting here talking to you on my day off if I didn't?" Urameshi Yusuke interjected snappishly, "Long as you give her a fair shot, there won't be any problems between us. Get me?"

Urameshi Yusuke frowned, and Eiji suppressed the urge to lean back from him as he jerked his head up and down in a ridged nod.

"I-I understand," he said.

With that, Urameshi Yusuke pulled back from his immediate space, rocking back onto his stool. The front legs lifted up precariously and Eiji would've worried that he ight have fallen over, if not for the way the legs snapped down at a shift of his weight. His eyes drifted somewhere else, not seeming to pay any more attention to the stricken man sitting beside him. "She should be getting up close to lunch," he said, "Wanna stick around?"

Eiji shook his head, "No, thank you."

Urameshi Yusuke slanted a glance in his direction, eyeing him.

This time, Eiji didn't cower beneath his stare but mustered a slight smile, "I'll greet her properly on Monday, as her teacher."

Urameshi Yusuke's eyebrows raised, then his eyes slid shut as a smile settled on his lips. "Heh, suit yourself." He stepped off from the bar stool, waving his hand as he started toward the staircase, "The food's on the house, by the way. Finish up and get goin'."

Eiji nodded, glancing back down to his meal. He faltered for a second as a thought crossed his mind and he lifted his head to look at Urameshi's back.

"Oh, and Urameshi-..san," he waited until the other man halted before he continued, "Thank you for saving me back then."

Urameshi glanced over his shoulder, then scrubbed his hand along the back of his head, grumbling as he continued up, "No clue what you're talking about."

Chapter Text

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Makoto sighed after the third set of identical knocks were granted no answer or even the slightest hint of stirring in the dormant energy thrumming softly on the other side of the door. He turned the doorknob and pushed it open; swaths of warm yellow sunlight traveling across cherry hardwood floors and illuminating his path. Makoto inched inside, carefully avoiding cardboard boxes filled to their flaps with rolled-up tubes of paper and notebooks with colorful bindings scrawled over in another language. A bulky yellow rotating fan seated on the floor bumped carelessly against the back of a rolling chair half-pulled out from beneath a desk pressed against the far left wall.

He wondered how the fan's constant thuds hadn't woken her, but was reminded by the deep raucous snores coming from the bed tucked squat beneath the window sill that his sister could sleep through anything sometimes. Makoto shook his head, crouching down at the knees to turn the fan's rotation knob to zero, finally giving the little device a reprieve from its miserable fate. A silver glimmer shone from underneath the desk and Makoto tilted his head curiously before reaching in, closing his hand around something cool and heavy.

It took a few yanks before he managed to pull his arm back to himself and turned his hand over, gasping happily at the metallic blue yo-yo sitting squarely in his palm. A six-pointed star was painted on either side in a bright honey gold which shone whenever he tilted it toward the light.

"Wow," Makoto whispered, climbing up to his feet with his empty hand wrapped around the strap of his backpack. He adjusted it on his back with a hup then glanced sideways at the lump beneath the comforter. His mouth quivered uncertainly before he hung his head with a sigh and set the yo-yo atop of the desk. It wouldn't have been a good idea to take his sister's things even if she did forget about them more often than he would ever. Besides, he was on a mission.

Makoto turned his back on the yo-yo, taking the last couple of steps toward his sister's bedside. "Nee-chan, it's time to get up!" He called, patting the big lump in the middle of the bed where he hoped his sister was laying somewhere therein. A gurgling groan answered him but there wasn't any shuffling within the blanket, only the light rise and fall as if someone was still breathing inside. Makoto sighed, pulling the straps of his backpack taut so it rested up and against his shoulders. If his sister wasn't going to get up the usual way, then they would have to do things the Urameshi way.

The fluffy downing of her comforter squished against his palm as he seized it and began to pull with all of his might. Inch by inch, the comforter began to give way as the person inside of it was steadily unraveled like a messily-wrapped present. Makoto resisted the urge to laugh when he'd managed to tug half of the blanket to the ground and heard his sister squawk from inside of it, peeking over his shoulder to catch her legs flailing in the air as she reached for the comforter. He tried to pull it out of her grasp but his sister's arms were longer than his, allowing her to snag one end of the blanket and pull it back. A tug-of-war started with Makoto trying to keep his socked feet from slipping against the floors while his sister was ruthlessly gaining ground by gathering up as much of the comforter as her arms could hold.

"Nee-chan!" Makoto cried out, straining as he twisted the comforter in his hands like a rope. "Mom said it's time to get up! You can't just — hff — keep sleeping all day!"

His sister grumbled, "Shut up…" and gave the blanket another devastating tug sending Makoto hurtling backward onto his behind. He yelped when something poked him hard against his leg, and his hands flew down to grasp it with a scathing glare at the half-open toolbox covertly stowed in her bottom drawers. The top snapped shut with a smack of his palm, and he scampered up to his feet before flinging his backpack to the floor.

"You shut up," he said, taking one step up onto his sister's mattress before throwing himself atop of her. Over her garbled shout for him to get off of her, Makoto cried, "And pick up your stupid room!"

"Ugh, you sound like Ma—!" His sister grunted, wrestling with him and the blankets she'd tangled herself up in. Her lacking range of movement granted Makoto the upper hand for a short while until she hesitated and rolled him up in the blanket instead, then sent him careening off the side of her bed. Makoto struggled against the blanket swaddling around him, managing to tug one arm free and then the other while his sister mumbled irritably overhead, "Ugh, who decided school should be this early…"

Makoto looked up to her, relieved and annoyed as she sat up with a jaw-cracking yawn. Her dark hair stuck up in certain places in her usual bed-head hairstyle, but the oversized shirt draped over her slipped down her shoulder revealing the white gauze of a bandage plastered to her shoulder. His heart leapt as he pushed up onto his elbows and focused on the edges of the bandage for any hint of coppery red, or flushed skin. Regret tightened in his chest like a fist had firmly planted itself in his rib cage, and everything else melded around him to keep him from bleeding out.

His sister ran her hand down the side of her face, pinky finger catching on the edge of her right eye and pulling it down. She glanced in his direction then, eyebrow raised as she dropped her hand to her lap. "What's up with you?" She asked before he could fix his face into something less worried. Immediately, her attention went to her bandaged shoulder and an understanding softened her eyes. It was a look Makoto knew well, and he could hear the words she was going to say before her mouth had even started to move — "It's not as bad as it looks, Mako."

Makoto huffed, resisting the instinct to puff out his cheeks. It would only make his sister tease him even more and he could already see the gears turning in her mind of how to mess with him.

"Well, you should get ready for school then," Makoto said, grabbing his backpack by the strap as he got to his feet. He could feel her eyes on him as he tugged his arms through the straps then loosened them so that it sit comfortably again. "Dad's making breakfast for you, so you'd better hurry up."

"Mn," his sister hummed, and Makoto glanced over to see her sitting with her cheek in hand. Her dark hair glowed faintly in the cool, blue light of the morning sky, and he realized that she looked older somehow despite being the same as when she'd come the day before.

"Hey, you didn't zip your backpack up all the way."

Makoto blinked out of his stupor with a soft huh, twisting one way and then the other as if he could see his backpack with just a turn of his head. "But I just checked it," he said.

"C'mere," his sister beckoned, flapping a hand toward him. "I'll get it."

Makoto scrunched up his nose but decided to accept the offer, turning his back toward her as he inched closer until his legs bumped against the frame of his sister's bed. He heard the blankets and sheets rustle as she moved; his backpack tilted from one side to the other with the telltale sound of a zipper being drawn shut. Thanks rested at the roof of his tongue but the sound that came out was a yelp when he was tugged backward; strong arms wrapped around him, cushioning him as he was practically balled into an embrace with his backpack weighing him down and his sister holding him close.

"Nee-chan, let go!"

She laughed spiritedly, voice roughened by exhaustion. "And here I thought you were getting grown up," she said, ruffling his hair in spite of his protests and flailing. "But you're still easy to trick."

"Am not!" Makoto cried, trying his best to squirm out of his sister's noogying.

"Aw, but you were just a baby yesterday," she snickered, pulling her chin back when Makoto managed to free his arm and swung up.

He growled when he missed her, and twisted around enough to look up at her, "No I wasn't! I'm eight," he pointed his finger at her ruefully. "And I'm almost two digits, just like you!"

His sister looked down at him amused, giving his head another tousle. "But you'll always be the baby of the family," she said, and Makoto simmered with frustration. He'd show her who was the baby. If going up and around weren't going to work then he would just have to go down, and down he went, pinching his sister right at the back of her knee with a tug. She yelped, lifting her arms for a blissfully sweet second where Makoto thought he could squirm out from underneath. Though just when he'd managed to get himself upright, his sister pinched his cheeks and smooshed his face together.

"Urgh, you know what…!"

Makoto weathered his sister's attack on his face, giving back as good as he got where he could by pinching the back of her knees or tugging her hair. They couldn't be too loud or their mom would definitely hear them from downstairs and give them both an earful. But by the end of it, his sister shoved him off her bed and he went stumbling across the objects strewn about on her floor, managing to catch himself on the doorknob.

"Get lost, you brat!" She shouted, picking up a pillow.

He scrambled to open the door, flinging himself out into the hallway before pulling it shut. A muffled thump on the other side made him smirk and he cracked open the door to poke his head in and stick his tongue out at her, "Bleh!", before another pillow came sailing through the air and smacked him in the face. It fell to the ground with a gentle plop as the door clicked shut, and the boy on the other side whined while complaining about how mean she was to him. Makoto's socked, harried footsteps carried down the hallway then darted along the steps to where a flurry of conversation happened: their dad asking him if she was awake, his hasty response and their quick goodbyes. A nearly similar exchange happened below as her brother was greeted by their mom, a goodbye kiss exchanged and the door to the diner sliding shut.

And once she couldn't feel his immediate presence inside anymore, she took a deep breath to steady herself and sank down against the window sill with her head resting against the warming glass.

"Nee-chan!"

Her eyes snapped open. She turned to face the window, pushing up onto her elbow then nudging the curtains aside. The brightness of a clear blue sky nearly blinded her for half a second but her eyes quickly adjusted, lowering to the street. Three children stood in plain view on the sidewalk — Makoto with his hands wrapped around his backpack's straps and cheeks dimpled with a big grin, a hazy-eyed Asahi trying and failing to hold back his yawns, and Tsubaki poking her brother into a half-awake state.

Oh yeah, she thought, glancing between the kids as they talked amongst themselves briefly, Asahi did go home last night after dinner. Guess Uncle Hiei and Kurama aren't busy today.

She flicked open the window's lock then rolled it aside, calling down into the street, "Whaddya want?!"

Makoto scrunched his nose, lips twisted up as if he were debating on whether or not to shout something rude back. But then Tsubaki stepped forward; her long bushy black hair was braided into two twin tails tied off with shiny crimson ribbons matching the red overall dress she wore. The ribbons bounced with her steps as she rolled up onto her toes and smiled widely enough that the apples of her cheeks rounded. "Shiki-oneechan!" She shouted, waving one hand to her, "Have fun at school!"

She giggled happily, the infectious smile making one twitch at Shiki's lips as she gave a half-hearted wave in return.

Asahi yawned into the palm of his hand, scratching behind one of his ears with a grumble, "Is school a place you have fun at?"

"Of course it can be, onii-chan," Tsubaki said, puffing her cheek when her brother shrugged in return. "Shiki-oneechan is going to junior high school with the bigger kids."

"Sounds like a bigger headache," Asahi muttered dryly, and Shiki laughed at Tsubaki's indignant groan.

Makoto snickered, crossing his arms behind his head as he rolled back onto one heel. "See ya later, nee-chan! Good luck!" He called up to her, then swung around to start up the street with the bickering twins in tow.

Shiki watched them until they were out of her line of sight, and stayed there a bit longer until she couldn't feel them near their block. Only once they were fully gone did she let herself lean against the window; a cool breeze brushing against her cheek and rustling her hair as Sarayashiki gradually came alive before her eyes.

"…. Guess I oughta get going too."

Mornings in the Urameshi household weren't always loud, but when silence crept into the crowded abode, it was a stark difference. Clattering pots and pans, the sizzle of ingredients being made into something yummy on the stove, and her dad's humming drew Shiki to the kitchen after she'd finished in the bathroom. Face washed, hair and teeth brushed, yet still undeniably drowsy, Shiki rounded the corner leading to the kitchen with the beginnings of a 'Good morning' on her lips. The words teetered off into the unknown, unheard without her voice behind them, and she blinked slowly at the sight of a bald man dressed in the robes of an ascetic monk sitting across from her grandma at their table.

They both held a cup of tea in their hands and seemed to have been talking about something before she'd entered the room. Her grandma lent against the backrest of the chair, tipping her head back to give Shiki a crooked upside-down smile. "Well, look who rose from the dead," she said teasingly. "Partied too hard last night?"

A bubbling warmth stirred in Shiki's stomach as she darted forward, throwing her arms around her grandma's shoulders. The older woman laughed, making them both shudder with the vibrations of her joy. Nose pressed to her grandma's cheek, Shiki inhaled the faint scent of tobacco and something citrusy. Her grandma's smell had been steadily changing over the years, or so her dad claimed, no longer holding the pungent odor of those bitter spirits she used to drink in her younger years or the faint whiff of decay. Shiki didn't know what her grandma used to smell like back then but she absolutely loved it now, enjoying rubbing her cheek against her grandma's while smooth fingers glided against her cheek with little strokes and comforting pats.

"No one told me you two would be here," Shiki complained, peeling herself away from her grandma enough to look across the table at the monk. "Did you come all the way from Makai?"

"Yes. I arrived this morning in fact," He closed his eyes with an affectionate smile, welcoming Shiki with both his aura and his person when she let go of her grandma to hurry towards him. "Forgive us, your parents believed it would be a surprise you would appreciate."

Shiki squeezed him around his neck, taking the opportunity to rub her hand along the curve of his head. It was still cleanly shaven as always without even the slightest speck of hair but radiating a warmth she found appealing. Knowing this was a surprise planned by her mom and dad made her heart soar, and if Hokushin wasn't holding onto her so tightly in return, she could've floated up to the ceiling. Shiki tucked her chin over his shoulder and smiled at her dad's back from where he stood at the stove, working with the speed of an entire cook crew. As if he could sense her staring at him, he looked over his shoulder and grinned widely.

"Morning, little asskicker," he greeted enthusiastically, arm lifted when Shiki wiggled her way out of Hokushin's hold and darted over to grab him around his middle. She held onto him for dear life when he started to laugh and it felt as though the tremors of it would make her insides vibrate. He laughed in the same way Grandma Atsuko did, though neither of them would admit it. Shiki smiled, listening to the light chatter between Hokushin and her grandma while her dad switched his spatula from one hand to the other and ruffled the top of her head. It didn't matter that her hair was ruined and she'd have to fix it before leaving today.

A good number of her favorite people were all in the same room, cramped but there nonetheless, and she couldn't be happier. "It's not even my birthday," Shiki said, peering over the bright gold rolled omelettes and crisped flaking salmon with a hungry gaze. "Isn't this a lot of food, dad?"

Her dad hummed to himself, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he glanced down at her. "You not gonna eat then?" He asked, a bolt of lightning shooting through Shiki at the thought. "Could make you a piece of toast if y'wanna go with the whole cliche."

Shiki vehemently shook her head, pressing her foot to the back of his knee and gripping onto his shirt as she practically scaled his back. "No way," she shouted close to his ear, hooking her legs around his sides with her arms around his neck. "I'm definitely eating!"

"Alright, alright! I get it!" Her dad pulled at her arms, hand hooked around her elbow as he struggled against the tight hold. It was all for show, Shiki knew, but she squealed with laughter when he tried to flail around with her on his back. At twelve-years-old, these games with her dad should have been something that she'd grown out of but it still felt nice that he wanted to play with her anyway. From the little glimmer in his eyes and the way his smile softened, she figured he must have felt the same.

"Yusuke! Shiki!"

Shiki gulped, and her dad froze before they both turned around to the doorway where her mom stood arms-crossed. It was still early, so she hadn't yet gotten dressed for work, but her long hair was tied up in a ponytail and she'd changed out of her pajamas for a blue sweater and jeans.

From the table, Grandma Atsuko chuckled into her tea, "Uh-oh…"

"What have I told you two about playing in the kitchen?" Her mom stated, advancing on them both with her arms folded across her chest. Shiki squirmed a little, ready to beat a hasty retreat, but her dad's arm hooked beneath her leg anchoring her in place.

She gaped at him when he glanced at her from the corner of his eye and whispered, "If I go down, I'm takin' you with me."

"Dad," Shiki hissed, thinking to pull his ear and pinch his nose if it'd get her out of the potential scolding heading right towards them.

"Shiki, Yusuke," her mom repeated, standing in front of them with steely reddish-brown eyes flicking between them. Shiki melted a little against her dad's shoulder, deciding to use him as a shield while her dad fearlessly stared down her mom. After a pause which felt like an eternity, the sharpness in her mom's eyes smoothed out along the edges until they were rounded again and seemed to sparkle. Her mouth parted, exposing her teeth and a defined wrinkle at the corners of her lips. She reached out to them, fixing Shiki's hair with one hand and combing back her husband's with the other.

"The two of you will never change, huh?" Her mom sighed after withdrawing her hands, satisfied with the neatness of her husband and daughter.

Shiki glanced out the corner of her eye at her dad, and he returned her gaze before gasping a soft 'hey' when her mom plucked the spatula out of his hand.

"Go on, you two, I'll finish up here," said her mom, giving her dad a pointed look before turning toward the stove with her ponytail waving a silent dismissal.

Shiki wasn't sure of what to make in her parent's conversation, deeper than the surface level. Her mom was clearly happy or at least found some reason to think of the two of them playing in the kitchen as adorable rather than scold-worthy. But there was something else that happened right before her eyes which she couldn't read at all. She scrunched her nose, squinting as her dad rubbed the back of his head with an almost guilty look.

At times, they could say a hundred different things without even breathing a word of it. Sometimes their silent conversations were so subtle Shiki didn't notice they were happening at all, and when she did try to pay close attention, her dad was always quick to notice. If it was anything bad though, then Hokushin and Grandma Atsuko wouldn't be smiling the way they were and still talking as if something wasn't going on in the background. Shiki tossed the thought around her mind, shrugged then hopped off her dad's back once his grip on her legs loosened. Her bare feet slapped against the floor just as her dad turned with a half-glance.

"C'mon, these geezers could talk forever if y' let 'em."

Grandma Atsuko sucked her teeth. "If you weren't messing around, we would've been through this part already.." She grouched at him, then glanced at Shiki with a softer tone, "Me and Longneck here brought you something."

"Really?!" Shiki shouted, running up to Grandma Atsuko as the older woman stood up from her chair with playful mutters about the energy of children. With a great sigh, Grandma Atsuko draped her arm around Shiki's shoulders and pulled her into a side-hug. The closeness of her smoky scent Instinctively, Shiki burrowed against her grandmother's warmth and let herself be half-pulled and half-walked into the living room. Somewhere behind her, Hokushin rose and thanked her mom for the tea. She imagined the monk did so with a bow and clicked her tongue at the formality of it all.

The sparks of irritation quelled at the sight of their living room, or more importantly, the pair of colorfully decorated boxes sitting on the coffee table. Shiki wiggled from under her grandma's arms and rushed over to kneel in front of the table. It felt like Christmas mornings when her entire family would gather at the temple, scattering across every surface they could find a comfortable spot to sit. The air buzzed with strings of chatter weaving together to form a comfortable shroud for her to rest under. Usually, there was enough noise that adding her voice to the mix wasn't necessary but she did so anyway. Whenever someone glanced in her direction, or butted into a conversation she'd thrown herself into, it felt as if they were acknowledging she was there - that they were all present together.

Now in her family's loft apartment, Grandma Atsuko and Hokushin took up a space on the couch on either side of her while her dad sat on the other side of the coffee table. His eager gaze never left her and a silly grin clung to his lips when she hesitated between touching either box, curious as to what they held. Her attention flicked up to him questioningly but despite his excitement, he didn't seem keen on giving away a single clue. Instead, his eyebrows raised as if to say, "figure it out on your own" and Shiki's eyes narrowed in return.

"Does it matter which one I open first?" Shiki asked, looking over her shoulders at the pair seated on the couch.

Hokushin regarded her with typical patience, as if he was taking her question in with the utmost seriousness. He always beheld her with such frankness that Shiki didn't know what to make of it. Even when she was a little kid and most adults outside of her family would excuse anything she'd say as fantasy, Hokushin believed her. In this moment, Shiki took his stare to mean he wasn't sure whether he would prefer her to look at his gift first. He never tried to explicitly force her to do anything, always taking a step back with diplomatic ease to see what she would do. At times, he'd allow a smile or a frown, but Shiki thought it mattered less because of what she did but rather what it reminded him of.

Grandma Atsuko's foot bumped against her side, stirring her from her thoughts to look upon the older woman's lazy smile. "You should open mine first," she said.

Hokushin's shoulders tensed slightly, and he glanced at Grandma Atsuko with the same wonder. She met his gaze coolly, cheek resting against her fist and lips curled into a crooked smile.

"You're putting more pressure on her by not saying anything, y'know," she drawled. "I get where she came from but she's a thoughtful kid like that."

"Oi, whaddya mean where she came from," Shiki heard her dad grumble from across the table. She turned toward the sound of his voice, allowing herself to smile at how annoyed he looked. The muscle in his jaw jumped a little as he glared from beneath his eyelashes, leg bouncing and chin resting in his hand. "I wouldn't care which one of you windbags got it. A gift's a gift."

"Yusuke," Mom called, the grated edge to the call similar to a warning. Dad's shoulders tensed at the sound, and his face scrunched up as if he'd tasted something bad. Shiki was surprised he didn't turn around to face Mom's ire head on and bicker like they usually did. Was there something super important about these gifts that everyone was making her the center of attention?

Shiki peeked past her dad and found her mom standing in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the living room. Mom met her eyes and there was something about the soft look of amazement in her eyes that made Shiki's heart beat faster. It was the same way Dad looked at her before she went to bed last night. Like they were seeing her again for the first time, and they would never get a chance to look at her this way. Shiki didn't get it.Her face warmed the longer she kept her Mom's gaze, and somehow she knew if Hokushin or Grandma Atsuko looked at her then this fuzzy feeling would only grow.

It's just junior high, she thought. There would be school, teachers, kids who were afraid of her and others who didn't know why just yet, homework, and endless days she'd be eager to fill in. The same as usual. Only now, looking at the long rectangular box and the smaller squarer one set before her, did Shiki believe that the day actually held something else for her than the life she always knew.

She was thankful no one mentioned the tremble in her hands as she took up the smaller box. Grandma Atsuko and Hokushin didn't mention which one belonged to either of them but it definitely showed when Hokushin's breath hitched. Shiki thought her ears had failed her for half a second when his breathing came to a halt, but then she glanced over er shoulder and saw his eyes. Hokushin had the best poker face out of everyone in their family, even giving Uncle Hiei a run for his money. But right now, his eyes were the widest Shiki had ever seen them and sparkled with some unknown emotion she couldn't quite place.

Shiki glanced down at the half-opened lid then settled it back into place, shifting herself around to face Hokushin. Now, his eyes were big as the moon and focused entirely on her. She smiled to herself, ignoring Grandma Atsuko and Dad as they snickered behind her. The lid to the present slipped off easily, and Shiki gasped aloud. Inside the box, lying on a satin grey cushion whose threads sparkled in the slanting golden rays, was a string of golden beads woven into a bracelet.

Shiki settled the box on her lap to keep the bracelet from being disturbed and tilted her head in various ways. When the sunlight caught on the beads, they shone with the intensity of a little sun. However, she thought that she'd noticed something carved into them whenever she beheld them at a certain angle.

"Hey, are those what I think they are…" Dad muttered, and Shiki looked up with a start. Sometime during her inspection of the bracelet, he had shuffled around the table to sit directly by her side. She wasn't sure whether she found it more unnerving that he could actually be quiet long enough to sneak up on her, or that she hadn't felt him move at all. But both of those matters could be put to the side for now as she tilted the box toward him to grant him a better look.

"You know what these are, Dad?" She asked, eyes wide when he picked up the bracelet and held it over his head.

After a moment, her dad's face lit up. "Yeah, these were the little treasure bits I used for the First Makai Tournament!" He shook the bracelet around a little, mockingly grinning at Hokushin as he added, "You really gonna regift her a couple of worn balls, old man. Talk about cheap."

Hokushin blew out a sigh, while Grandma Atsuko rapped her knuckles lightly against the back of Dad's head. Shiki hung her head in defeat. There were plenty of questions she had about what he meant — what did they have to do with the First Makai Tournament? And what kind of shenanigans did her dad get up to back then?

None of them eclipsed what she wanted to know about what this present meant for her. Dad yelped at Grandma Atsuko's attack and turned on her with a scowl, giving Shiki an opening to take the bracelet from his slack grasp. With it in the palm of her hand, she could feel the warmth of the stones and how they vibrated with a strange energy. Her thumb rolled one of them to the side until she could see a little closer, admiring the crests engraved into it. Excitement gripped her heart as she turned over each of the stones to look at them closer, reading off the crests drawn in a script she'd only seen in one place —

"Are these the rurimaru you told me about, Hokushin?" She asked, holding the bracelet up to the light and turning it slowly to catch the other engravings. "These characters…"

"They are the wishes of Tourin," said Hokushin.

Shiki lowered her eyes at the sound of his voice, and startled at the adoring shine in Hokushin's eyes. It was different from the passive way he usually looked at her. Now, it was as if she had become the center of his entire world. Hokushin chuckled, curling his fingers under the hanging loop of the bracelet. Shiki watched as the little beads jostled together. A faint ringing sound brushed against her ears and she turned her head a little, wondering if she'd angle it just right, the beads would make another noise.

Instead, Hokushin spoke to her, "Seizan, Nankai, Touou, and myself designed these for you with our wishes for your triumph. It's our hope you will go forth in victory, Shiki."

Shiki's face scrunched, lightly creasing the skin between her brows and pouting her lips. While she didn't want to ruin the moment Hokushin was obviously trying to have with her, she had to huff, "You're saying that like I'm going off to a big battle. It's just school."

There were times when Hokushin and the others from Makai could take things from Ningenkai so literally. She could understand how confusing it was to them with the directness of their realm, but how many times would she have to say it? This time, Hokushin's expression shifted slightly from the plain adoration to something a little more bizarre. It was as if he was seeing something through her or looking past her in a way, while also looking at her in the present. Shiki didn't shrink away from the stare, instead scrunching her nose further and lifting her chin to make herself seem a little bigger.

It was futile, of course. Even sitting down, Hokushin was at least two heads taller than her and his neck would give him an unfair height advantage too. From behind her, Grandma Atsuko laughed softly and Shiki inhaled the smokiness of her presence when the older woman ruffled her hair.

"Think he took it a little too serious when we said it's a big step for a kid," Shiki heard her grandmother tease, "his heart's in the right place."

Through the messy fall of her bangs, she could hardly see Hokushin's expression but she sensed the change to his voice as he said almost distantly, "Yes, you're right…" Then his voice lightened as he chuckled himself, "We merely wish the best for our lady."

Shiki glanced down at her hand and watched as Hokushin cupped the underside of it, depositing the bracelet into her palm. When her fingers closed around it and brought it back to rest against her chest, she wasn't sure what changed. Somehow, it felt heavier than when she just pulled it out of the box. Not physically, because she could lift most things girls her age couldn't without even trying. The symbol of it had grown in size, not merely a trinket offered to her by those loyal to her dad but something else.

Shiki glanced at Dad from the corner of her eye, wondering if she imagined the red glint in his irises when he stared at the bracelet in her hand. He blinked and looked at her in return, speaking quietly with a raised brow: Do you wanna keep it?

Shiki clutched the bracelet to her chest, and mulled it over.

Dad said when Hokushin lies, he always leaves things out. What'd he leave out this time?

She looked down at the golden light peeking from between her fingers, then glanced up at the monk who was humbly taking a nudging from her grandma. Atsuko dropped her arm after awhile and turned a bright smile onto Shiki, "What's a bit of jewelry without an outfit to go with it?"

She nodded toward the table and Shiki's heart leapt when she remembered there was another box waiting for her attention. She settled the bracelet inside of the smaller one and set it aside, not having the heart to cover it once again. There was something nice about the way the sunlight hit the beads and made them dance with sparkling hues, even if she wasn't sure how to feel about the sentiment behind them. Shiki took a breath then turned to the next box, carefully lifting the cover of it.

Her eyes widened at the neatly pressed and folded creases of a uniform. Dad peered over her shoulder, unimpressed by the sound of his huff. Shiki brushed her fingers along the folds of a long pleated black skirt and lingered on the red tie tucked underneath the collar of the sailor-style collar. The garments were soft to the touch, and while she could feel they'd been worn well, the fabric still looked as if it were brand new.

"It was mine back when I got into junior high," Grandma Atsuko said, and that was the biggest shock to Shiki's system. She could hardly imagine a twelve-year-old Grandma Atsuko.

Dad snorted, "During the Dark Ages?"

A whish through the air told of Grandma Atsuko's hand swinging out to smack Dad on the back of the head, and the yelp that came from it said her hit connected.

"Shaddup. It was only a couple years before I had you, ya numbskull," Grandma Atsuko grumbled. Shiki felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to find her grandma glaring hard, nose scrunched and eyes narrowed with a look she'd only seen on her dad's face. "Don't let any of those milk-eared brats try to sweet talk you int' doing anything, got me?"

"HAH!?" Dad shouted, making Shiki's ears ring. "Like I'd give those sons of bi—"

"Yusuke," Mom interjected, huffing under her breath. "It isn't like you weren't one of them back then."

"Wh—" Dad turned on her next, at a loss for words for the first time. Shiki noticed he snuck a glance back at her and narrowed her eyes, brow lifted questioningly. Just what was her dad like when he was a kid? Nervously, Dad looked at Mom with his mouth opening and closing as he fought to find his words, "That's different! I only did that kinda thing with you, Keiko!"

Mom's eyes widened, her cheeks lit up to a bright scarlet. "That doesn't make it any better, idiot!" She shouted back at him.

Shiki scratched her cheek, deciding it would be best to put away her thoughts on what her parents used to do when they were in junior high. She pulled out the skirt and stood up to compare it to where it hung at her waist, pleased to see that the ends would have brushed against her ankles.

"The skirt on it's pretty long, huh?" Dad said with something Shiki thought was approval.

"She might have issues with her uniform if she's not wearing the right ribbon," Mom fretted. "And the colors are slate grey, aren't they? This might…"

"It's perfect!" Shiki shouted, clutching the uniform to her chest. "It's just like Girl Boss Revenge!"

"Oooh!" Dad grinned, giving her a finger gun salute. "You're talking about the one movie about those gangs in Osaka, yeah?"

"That was a pretty good one," Grandma Atsuko mused idly.

Dad snickered, "Surprised you weren't in it."

Shiki squeezed the uniform to her chest, lips quivering as she fought back the urge to smile. The light fluffy feeling in her chest grew into a dense cloud. It stirred her heart racing and made her ears pound with blood. Thoughts scrambled for purchase in her head muffling the sound of her family's bickering as she felt herself become rooted in place from the sheer weight of her emotions. With great strength, she pulled up her feet and snatched up the little box as well as the uniform, leaping over her dad's legs in a mad dash to her bedroom. Behind her, confused shouts of her name carried but she ignored them all.

When her bedroom door slammed shut behind her, Shiki pressed her back to it and let the strength in her legs drain out as she sank to the floor. She drew in a shaky breath and drew her knees in close to her chest, trying to keep her head from spinning off her shoulders.

"I'll do my best," she whispered into the threads, feeling the warmth of the bracelet pressed against her heart. "I promise."

Eiji tucked the length of his tie through the open knothole, then pulled it taut until the notch rested evenly against the hollow his throat. A sigh parted his lips when he turned from side to side and found the tie was perfectly aligned with his collar's lapels. He smoothed his palms down the front of his buttoned-up shirt, settling the imaginary wrinkles perceived by his mind's eye more-so than the mirror's reflection. The him within the mirror quirked the corners of its mouth with a daring smile, staring back until the muscles in his face could no longer hold the false bravado.

He took a step back to look himself over from a top-down view. Fingertips ghosted over the curve of his hair, glistening with pomade and bearing the faint marks of a fine-tooth comb painstakingly primmed and plucked through for almost an hour. The curve of his ears tinged red as he smiled sheepishly, embarrassment creeping warmly into his cheeks at how much preening he'd been up to. A side-long glance toward his bedside table where an alarm clock flashed 7:30 AM in bright blue numbers kicked the hornet's nest of nerves sitting at the pit of stomach.

Monday had come yet again, and with it was the concession that he would never truly be ready. The mirror beckoned to him again and he looked into it, running his gaze over his posture — shoulders curled slightly inward and hands twitching restlessly at his sides. He searched his eyes and found the indecision, the fear which grew and diminished in waves over the last few days. Now, it returned with vengeance and settled at the forefront of his mind like a devastatingly high wall. Eiji lowered his eyes, and took a deep breath before blowing out a sigh.

Flashes of recollections from the weekend's toils and all of his mental preparation coursed through his mind: Principal Takenaka leaving him with a final warning, Yukimura — now, Urameshi — Keiko wishing him well in teaching her daughter, and Urameshi Yusuke's smile.

A fair shot is all that's necessary, Eiji thought as he clenched his fist at his side and wrenched his head up to meet his eyes in the mirror. Determination stared back at him, sunlight reflecting off the lenses of his glasses as it began to peek through the curtains.

"Today," Eiji announced to himself, practiced and even, "I am Egashira Eiji, the homeroom teacher for Class 1-C."

His reflection smiled at him, and Eiji's heart skipped a beat as he went to gather his briefcase and jacket and prepare to climb that high wall for the last time.