Archive of Our Own

Date’s done a lot in his life, but not enough to deserve this.

He wants to quit. He’s that close to quitting. He wants to retrieve his phone from wherever he threw it into the side of his car, call those fuckers right back, tell them he’s found some other agency that gets him so much more work, flip them off even if they can’t see it because at least he can and the spiteful energy should somehow allow it to travel over the radio waves or whatever, hang up, and go get blackout drunk.

“God damn it.”

But he doesn’t. Date settles for lifting his head from the butt of his steering wheel so that it doesn't tattoo his forehead. He drove all the way out into ass-fuck nowhere for nothing and it's all these assholes' fault. There must be a law out there somewhere that prohibits situations like this where he gets a call at the last minute saying 'nevermind, you're not needed anymore'. At the very least, he should be reimbursed for the fuel. Date feels like that would be asking too much as it is.

That’s agency work for you.

Date hears it in his head in the dry voice of his friend and former boss. Yeah, he knows. After years of salaried work, it's been a difficult transition into any other kind of livelihood. It still beats trying to work with people who have the less fun kind of body count, though.

Honestly, this the sort of disappointment that can only be resolved with boobs or booze. To Date’s further misfortune, it’s the middle of a weekday. The cabaret club won’t be open yet, and he can’t think of anyone he could drink with who wouldn’t still be at work by now. It’d be a waste of fuel and effort to go straight back home now, too. 

He leaves his car and wanders off for some inspiration. The gallery he drove here for doesn’t seem to have much else around it. Many of the storefronts are shuttered down and look like they haven’t seen any activity in years. There’s this giant building in the middle of it all that looks more recent which draws Date's attention. Curious, he peers through the glass doors as he walks past. They open up for him automatically and allow him to see the inside for a brief moment.

Is that—? He watches the doors close again. Date may not have quite the marksman’s eye he used to anymore, but in some ways, he’s still got it. Even through the glass, the figure shifts and he sees that classic jiggle.

It is. Booze may be off the cards, but that didn’t mean Date couldn’t go see some old friends. 

* * *

“Detective Date! That’s not you, is it? Ohhhmigod, it’s been so long! What brings you round here? More footwork?”

Ritsuko is nothing short of a delight, as ever. Date met her a few years ago while canvassing the local area around the scene of a hit and run. She didn’t witness anything, but she lived in one of the apartments overlooking the area. While it probably wasn’t professional, they got along well enough that they went out for drinks once or twice after. It’s hard to forget someone like her. Local poster girl for obfuscating stupidity, she has an impeccable knack for sorting out the men from the boys like wheat from the chaff. She’s great to talk to, is an astonishingly skilled gardener, and has the most incredible rack. No, seriously; acclaimed 'tit man' Kaname Date has seen a lot in his time and Ritsuko stacks up against the best of them. Historically, she even lets Date crack a joke about them every so often if he’s good.

“It's been a while, indeed. Long enough for me to I decide I'd had enough and quit the force, even.” Date isn’t interested in elaborating.

“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that.” Thankfully, Ritsuko seems to be on the same page. They usually are. A teeny frown grows on her as she shakes her head. “Those pigs were wearing you ragged anyway. What brings you here, then?”

Date recounts his trials and tribulations of the morning, with a hearty subtextual ‘fuck you’ to his employer that Ritsuko supports with her whole chest. Once or twice, he remembers to look back up at her.

“Ugh, I swear being as mid as possible is in the job description for those agency losers.” Ritsuko picks up a small emery board and starts filing away at her nails with real vigour. “I feel like I have to exfoliate once I’m done dealing with those scrubs myself for our own security.”

That’s interesting. “Yeah, so I thought I drove all the way out here for nothing in the end. Then I saw you and thought I’d be doing us both a disservice just walking on by,” Date finishes with a wry smile.

“Oh, you— still the charmer,” Ritsuko croons, pointing the nail file at him with a wink.

“I didn’t even look to see what this place is, honestly. You been working the reception desk here long?”

“Oh, Date, sweetie, you’re in Lemniscate.” Faced with Date’s lack of recognition, Ritsuko goes on. “The broadcasting company? Some of prime-time TV’s hottest stuff gets cooked up here.”

Date shrugs. “I didn’t get a chance to enjoy much evening television at my last job. And between all the night shifts I’m getting, I’m still—”

A door opens somewhere behind him. Date’s ear prickles when he catches the quiet voices that drift through it. Ritsuko perks up at the sound at once and simply beams while her nail file lands on the desk. Unable to resist seeing what’s got her so excited, Date turns to look for himself.

Two people who must work for the station speak to each other as they walk side to side. The woman facing away from Date wears a lanyard and talks animatedly to her colleague, pausing to refer to the file in her hands every so often. The younger man facing towards Date— who looks no older than a student— wears this loose tie, sweater and blazer combo, black hair almost artful in its messiness. All his attention is on the lady next to him. Both seem totally absorbed in their conversation as they head towards the exit.

Knowing Ritsuko, it must be the guy that has her sat upright like a sunflower. They couldn’t be any more than two feet away when the pair of them pass by Date and Ritsuko. As they pass the reception desk, the man’s eyes catch Date's for a spell when they pass over him, move onto something else, then snap back to Date at once. Oddly bright for how grey they are, his eyes almost fixate on Date as the man’s mouth falls open and his words peter out.

Date refrains from lifting an eyebrow back at him. He doesn't know what he’s done to warrant such a reaction. Does he recognise him? Date wracks his brain in the off chance he and this stranger have crossed paths before. With both past and current work experience, it could have happened. Unfortunately for this guy, he's too preoccupied by Date’s presence to see where he's going. Unfortunately for the assistant, she chooses to stop and stand in front of him at that exact moment, probably with the intent to see the man off.

It turns out to be a real furore of flailing limbs and paper. Startled, the man's hands fly out to land on the lady's shoulders to steady them both, knocking into the file in the process and sending it flying. Documents flutter about and scatter onto the floor. Date feels Ritsuko cringe behind him.

The man sounds genuinely apologetic as he hovers around his colleague. "Oh no, I– I am so sorry, are you okay? Here, let me–"

If anything, the young lady looks pleased as punch to be fussed over like this. Together they manage to scoop the papers back into some semblance of order and have them tucked safely against the woman’s chest (on the flatter side, admittedly, but Date's not choosy). They talk to each other some more, quiet like they were before the collision. The man looks like he’s trying very hard not to look at Date again as he starts backing towards the automatic doors. He raises his hand in an uneasy wave goodbye at his colleague. She returns it with a dreamy smile right as he leaves. Date watches her as she returns through the door she came out of. She evidently rides on the high of this interaction the whole way back, oblivious to her audience.

“That was…” weird, “weird.”

“Cute, right?” Ritsuko’s still smiling where the man was last seen. She has her hands curled into fists under her chin, like she’s just witnessed a kitten falling over and they’re the only thing containing the subsequent emotions within. “I didn’t know he was here today.”

“I guess he… works here?” Date states with some trepidation. Unless Ritsuko is about to explain how Stumbles was this huge health and safety risk they had to keep watch for, he’s unsure why he should care.

“Oh, yeah, for sure. He’s not here that often, but he sure does work that li’l butt off when he is. I should try talking to him again…”

Still on the prowl, then. Date breathes out slowly through his nose as he turns to face her again. “Right. Anyway, about what you were saying before– think there’s any way you can swing me some more steady work around here? It can’t be any worse than what I get already.” 

“Swing, you say… well, we have been considering other options since the dreaded… y’know,” Ritsuko says the next two words with all the despondency she can muster through puffed cheeks, “budget cuts. Hell, we might stop outsourcing entirely and just make our own hires, at this rate. Whatever it takes to keep dat money in the bank, show me whatcha drank, right?”

Smirking, Date pats at his chest. “Well, let’s just say you won’t be skimping on quality if you hire this guy. I hear he’s great at standing around for hours and chasing away the occasional creep and/or hooligan.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’ve always worked so hard– or at least, worked hard at looking like you were working hard while still getting a good job done.” Eyes narrowing in thought, Ritsuko considers him for a moment. “Tell you what, lemme know what agency you're with and I’ll give ‘em a call later. I may make the real magic happen around here, but I can’t make any promises.”

* * *

After days of radio silence from his employer and Date's personal fearmongering that he and Mizuki are going to have to start living off instant noodles, he finally gets the call while he’s lazing around on his sofa one afternoon while mindlessly channel surfing. His agency wants to confirm his availability for some security post work on a street he’s very familiar with. The instant he gets off the phone with them, he pumps the air with his fist with a hoot. 

Supermarkets and museums can kiss his ass. Date owes Ritsuko so many drinks.

It’s the beginning of what becomes a shocking amount of work over the course of the following week. Three daytime shifts out of the five weekdays is not bad at all. It’s about as mind-numbingly uneventful as any other security work he’s done before, but having it broken up with Ritsuko’s blessed presence makes it so much more bearable.

Date finishes his last shift on Friday just before the Lemniscate building closes for the day. He feels jaunty enough for it to be worth going to Marble to celebrate. He doesn’t need any real excuse to go drinking, but it’s always better when he has a good one. He hums an indistinct tune as he goes about grabbing his stuff from his locker before heading off. It’s when Date turns the corner that he— almost literally, coincidentally— collides with someone.

“Oh!” they gasp, staggering backward to stare up at Date. “It’s— h-hey there."

Same orange sweater, same blazer. Same hair. Same energy.  No lanyard. This is the clumsy guy from before. Without his lady companion or a lanyard of his own, Date feels even less like he should be here. He feels the man himself is to blame for the aura.

"Oh, you’re…” Damn, Ritsuko never mentioned his name, did she? “The guy who doesn't watch where he's going."

The corner of one of the man’s eyes twitches. One of his hands reaches up to scratch the side of his head. That explains the hair, then.

"Right, um, you… were there, weren’t you.” The man’s lip curls. He does not look happy about that. “Not one of my best first impressions, I'll admit.”

“Yeah, you were…”

Date hates it when this happens; it’s never not awkward. This man doesn’t seem at all upset that Date’s coming up short of a name, however. In fact, he seems almost enthused by this turn of events.

“Let’s try again, then,” the man says. He throws a hand out towards Date, before swapping over to the one that wasn’t in his hair a moment ago, smiling widely.

Date peers down at the offered arm. That’s some thread count; contrary to his smart-casual dress, that’s a quality blazer he’s wearing. The white cuffs are an odd choice, though, and— are those thumb holes in the sleeve of his sweater? Who dresses this man?

"Ryuki. I mean, I… I’m Ryuki.” A wince and a flash of irritation come over his face, gone as quick as they come. “I work here, but you might’ve figured that already."

If he owns clothes like that and only comes here every so often, maybe he’s some big wig? No, he looks too young for that. Son of a big wig? Date feels like he's coined a new, family friendly curse. He accepts Ryuki’s hand. "Date. I work here too, sort of."

"Mr. Date," Ryuki says, smile widening even more. Date is about to question the 'Mr.' right when Ryuki tilts head as he regards him. It reminds Date so much of a dog on the internet Mizuki showed him once that it effectively purges the query from his mind. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

"I’m with security, but I’m an external hire. I’m only working here every now and then, depending on when I get shifts." He hopes that changes, though. It makes up the bulk of Date's motive for accepting any shifts here in the first place, after all.

…well, maybe not. That can be credited to his desire to see the twins again. The rest is because Date wants more shifts. The two aren't related.

“I see. Not too different from me, then, in a sense.” Ryuki pauses to grip the knot of his tie, then lets go of it to reach for the back of his head instead. “I, ah, like to be here early. When there’s a new script ready, I mean.”

Ryuki gives him a significant look. Date's too preoccupied with respecting the commitment to notice, even if he still has no idea if this man works here or not. He looks Ryuki over again; the hand at the back of his neck, his sheepish grin. This guy has a hell of a time maintaining eye contact. In fact, Date starts to suspect he can’t look at anything for too long. He’s pretty sure Ryuki was looking at Date’s legs before, and now he’s lost him somewhere around Date’s chest area. It's almost suspicious. What's there to look at with his coat buttoned up like this?

They just stand there. Neither of them have said anything for a while now. If Date pays close attention, Ryuki looks more… pink than he did before. Date puts him out of his misery.

“Well, I'm heading home, so... be seeing you, Ryuki.”

“Y-Yeah!" Geez, this guy could out-sunflower Ritsuko. There's this radiance to him that Date's never seen her pull off before. "You have a good evening, Mr. Date.”

As he leaves, Date feels Ryuki’s eyes on him the whole time. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling per se, but it’s… different.

What a funny guy.

* * *

Mama, Marble’s patron saint, welcomes him warmly as ever. She tells him how she found a dusty old bottle of bourbon while clearing the tiny stock room at the back that’s not too old to be no good anymore. It feels like the stars have aligned for this moment.

It’s been a while, but Mama doesn’t have much gossip for him tonight. So Date sits there, sipping away and closing his eye as his insides get that chili-honey glow. It’s a quiet night; no one else joins them at any point. Date’s fine with that; he enjoys the ambience from time to time.

At some point during the night, Date’s eye glosses over the LCD Mama has up on the wall. Usually it’s turned off, but something’s playing on it tonight. Mama hasn’t been anywhere near her phone, so it must be just regular TV for a change. The lighting already gives the impression some sort of moody drama is on. There’s a young girl with bright pink hair standing in a park, trembling as she points a gun at a crowd of civilians. Before Date can process what’s happening there, the scene cuts to a different woman. Tanned and with longer, white hair, she frowns down at a document on her desk. She opens her mouth and starts speaking words Date falls short of hearing. Mama has the sound down.

“What is this, anyway?” Date asks.

Mama pauses in polishing bonito to look for herself and answer. “You’ve not seen The Somnium Files? I guess you haven’t been watching much TV until recently. Maybe you’ve heard people talk about it instead? Some call it ‘S-Files’ for short–”

What kind of name for a show is that? Why do people still feel the need to abbreviate things? Date thinks of 'gee ess double-yous' and decides it's not work irking himself further when he's trying to unwind. “They’re calling it S-Files? Makes it sound like some porno.”

“It’s not a porno!” Mama raises her voice, scowling at him. Touched a nerve? She didn’t sound that invested before. “Why would I play something like that in the bar pre-watershed?” She’s back to her bonito. “And before you get any other funny ideas, it’s not aliens, either. It’s just a crime drama.”

Date sighs. “Crime? Really? No one wants to watch that stuff after a day at work.”

"Says the ex-cop," Mama chides him. "It won’t appeal to you because it's not for you, silly. All the mystique and stabbing intrigue is so much less intriguing when it was your job for so long.”

"I never would’ve thought this would be your thing, either, Mama." After thinking about it, Date narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Don't tell me you're only interested because there's some macho man in it for you to lust over.”

Bulging his eye out and pursing his lips, Date slams his palm on the bar as he turns bodily on his barstool to look back at the TV and pretends to verify this for himself. His piss-take is thwarted when a flash of something– someone– catches his eye.

"Honey, please. Men aren't my only interest; there's so much more to life!" Mama looks up again from the bonito to give him a pout but stops when she sees where he’s looking. “Hey, last time I checked, they weren’t exactly yours, either. Feeling alright? That bourbon might be too old.”

It’s probably not the last thing he expects to see, but it’s enough to make Date double-take. On the screen, someone lifts the document from the tan lady’s desk. The camera slowly pans round and up to show the reader. There’s no orange sweater, but the tie is worn in almost exactly the same way. The blazer is eerily familiar, with the addition of a mockery of the Tokyo MPD pin near the lapel. When the camera finally shows the man’s face, Date almost stands up in shock.

"I know this guy," he states aloud, pointing unnecessarily at the screen.

Mama looks along with him. Date can't tell if her disinterest is feigned just to spite him. "What, you mean Kuruto Ryuki? Who doesn't these days?"

So it is him. "Me," says Date. "Well, until yesterday.”

“You don’t know The Somnium Files, but you know Ryuki. You’re painting a curious picture here, Date dear.”

“Bumped into him, sort of." Actually, it was pretty literal the second time. "At work. Why? What else is he in?”

“Not sure. Mind you, I haven’t been keeping up with the show since the beginning– it used to be a real cult classic before it took off with this newest season— but Ryuki's done a lot for its success since he replaced the former protagonist. He’s becoming quite the celebrity these days because of it. Women adore him."

Something about that annoys Date. He thinks about Ritsuko and the other Lemniscate lady with the lanyard. He looks at the screen again. The man– Ryuki– whatever character he’s playing– stands in front of a pinboard covered in photos of people, maps, and probably evidence, too, if that's the kind of show it is. He looks over it with a hand on his chin. It’s a thoughtful pose that warrants a lot of attention, if the camerawork is anything to go by.

This was what women were into these days? Date’s not seeing it. It almost makes him lose hope a little.

Mama has since moved onto wiping some glassware. When enough time passes in silence for it to be reasonable for Date to think they’ve moved on from the topic, she carries on with, "very popular with men, too, it seems. Of the men-loving variety, anyway."

Date glances at the TV again and casts his mind over his initial meetings with Ryuki; his twig-like figure, glimpses of puppy-like mannerisms, and inability to hold smooth conversation. "I wonder why," he drawls, reaching for his drink. It’s not as full as he remembers. Mama shoos his hand away so she can top up his glass.

"Well, to each their own,” she says as she replaces the bottle. “Personally, I like my men to not look like they could be knocked over by a stiff breeze. Sure you don’t want any ice?"

Date turns all this new information over in his head. He ponders. It's not that it gives him some renewed interest in Ryuki or anything like that, but it is just one of those. Having a chance encounter with someone new and then finding out they're famous after the fact is guaranteed to have you look at them differently. He is well off as Date suspected, then; that explains the jacket. 

Actually– why would the lead actor be spending that much time at the studio? There could only be so much of the show that was filmed at Lemniscate itself, especially with it being such a high-profile series with probably a significant number of shooting locations. Maybe they just keep reusing them? That doesn’t sound like a promising prospect for the show’s quality, but it does have Date rather curious. He also can't remember the last time his mere presence was such a distraction that it made a TV star lose all ability to navigate simple obstacles.

This might get fun, Date thinks, drinking from his bourbon again with a smirk.

* * *

“Mr. Date! You’re back again.”

It’s probably the second or third time it happens; Date’s on his way out to go home for the day, Ryuki calls out to him before he leaves, Date watches Ryuki as he lightly jogs up to him. (Why is he still doing that when they’re inside?) It still feels nice to see him again; he makes surprisingly pleasant company. Date hopes it’s not because he’s some low-key level of starstruck. He still couldn’t care less what this guy is or does. Ryuki can be funny, though.

“Back atcha. It might’ve been a few more days for you, though, than it has been for me.”

Ryuki laughs at him a little, shrugging his shoulders the tiniest amount. “Well, you know how it is.” Date thinks he does now. “Or… maybe not?” Nope, he does. “Anyway, you’re on your way out, right? Me too.” Ryuki’s eyes drift to the side. “Can I… is it okay if I walk with you?”

This is a new development. Date gives him a shrug of his own. “Knock yourself out.”

Ryuki is some concoction of thrilled and anxious as they get moving. He’s… kind of slow, but Date isn’t in any hurry.

“So, um.” Ryuki’s talking again. “The working day is… over.” Trying to, at least. “What’s the plan for you, Mr. Date?”

“Bed,” Date drones. Even vocalising it makes him tired. “Dinner, maybe, before that.”

“Bed sounds great.”

In hindsight, Date feels the slightest bit bad. He isn’t giving Ryuki much to work with. To his astonishment, however, Ryuki keeps going.

“I got a new bed recently,” he says, looking down slightly at his hands. Date notices he’s fidgeting, just a bit. “It wasn’t that long ago I bought the other one, but… it didn’t feel right. I guess there’s nothing wrong with having three beds.”

Three beds? “Uh, no. I suppose… not.”

Date thinks of his– well, Mizuki’s– own rickety bed at home, with a minimum of three springs on the cusp of emancipation.

“Yeah, I just put it into one of the guest rooms.”

One of the— “Sure, that works.”

Now Date thinks of the sofa he has had no choice but to use his own ‘bed’. He reigns in the scowl before it shows. Ryuki’s trying to be friendly here, even if he is this bougie-ass actor. He’s still just a guy. Anyway, Date thinks they’ll both benefit from a change in topic. He isn’t so great at small talk himself, though. Eventually, because he has to sooner or later, Date asks, “how old are you, anyway?”

“Oh, I’m twenty-eight,” Ryuki says brightly.

Date stops walking. Ryuki stops just ahead of him and peers back at him over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. Narrowing his eye, Date moves to stare at him more closely. Even with the low light, Date can’t see any wrinkles even at this distance.

Stupid baby-faced rich kid TV celebrity bullshit. Date reaches out to prod moodily at Ryuki’s forehead. It’s worth it for the look on his face alone. “How much botox you got in there?” he says as he pokes it again.

“What? No, I– I’m just like this.”

Pewter would hate him. “They got you on some skincare routine from hell or what?”

“I guess the makeup crew use a moisturiser before anything else, but otherwise, I don’t–”

Boss would hate him. “Another one of those ‘blood of the young’ types, then. Got it.”

After they part ways, Date has to remind himself that Ryuki is just a guy even as he ends up stuck behind a white limousine, which he’s positive he’s seen Ryuki climb into before, for most of the drive home. He doesn’t let it get to him.

* * *

One night, after maybe two or three beers, Date watches the first episode of The Somnium Files.

It takes him a while to track it down online. Sure, old episodes might run again on live TV at some point now and then, but if there’s been several seasons already, Date figures this is just easier.

Like Mama was saying, the protagonist at the beginning is this older, gruff-looking detective guy. Kind of an asshole that’ll probably be set up with some heartwrenching backstory later. Date watches the whole thing— it introduces some of the main cast of characters and sets up what must be a mystery that last for several episodes— and it leaves him feeling rather passive. He perseveres with the second episode, but only makes it halfway through the third before disengaging completely. It’s chewing gum for the eyes, he concludes. He’s starting to see how later seasons might be better if this is the starting point.

Surely he won’t miss out on that much if he skips ahead.

Once again, Date searches around. It’s more recent, so it’s much easier to find. Lemniscate’s own social media page boasts how it’s available on the catch-up service from the TV channel’s own website. ‘Missing out on the hottest season of The Somnium Files so far? Fear not, for Season 3 is available NOW for streaming on AMABI Player! Watch the beginning of the mystery that’s taking Japan by storm, starring our very own Kuruto Ryuki!’

There’s such a stark difference in what Date watches that he thinks it’s a completely different show. After that bomber of a cold open, the title card proves otherwise. The production is much higher, and from the moment Ryuki is on the screen, pointing a gun at a criminal with a cold, hateful stare, Date’s kind of hooked. There’s a new woman, too— the tan one Date remembers seeing from that one episode in Marble. He doesn’t remember her being so stacked before. She and Ryuki’s character are something like partners in their investigative department. The action scenes where they’re on the run from the yakuza and chasing a suspect still feel somewhat goofy— and, of course, absolutely not true to life— but they’re fun, even cool at times.

Honestly, Ryuki’s a pretty good actor. Date won’t ever speak a word against his professionalism. He feels genuine in everything he does; his determined inflection when he states his commitment to solving the case to his superiors, his flat indifference to his partner’s innuendos (not that Date’s complaining— Tama’s hilarious at times), the steadiness with which he delivers extensive analysis of the crime scenes he comes across (these, Date finds surprisingly, are not that implausible). The confidence of this man is almost overwhelming, but Date still sees traces of this shifting uncertainty he’s seen for himself behind Lemniscate’s walls.

He’s already on the second episode before he knows it, then the third, followed by the fourth. When it gets too late, Date watches more the following day.

It isn’t just Ryuki; if anything, he’s more embarrassed to admit even the mystery has a hold on him this time. Plus, Tama’s cute.

There comes a point that really makes Date sit up, though. Ryuki’s character— god, why is Date so bad at retaining these character’s names— gets caught infiltrating some crime den while Tama provides intel to him through an earpiece. There’s like six guys and they have to be armed, Date doesn’t know how Ryuki’s guy is meant to make it out of this.

Whatever Date expects then, it’s not for Ryuki to unveil such a delightfully restrained, yet unhinged smirk, and immediately roundhouse kicks one of them in the face. It knocks one guy into another, then another— no more after that, because that would’ve been ridiculous. No, what Date can’t get over is how Ryuki runs halfway up a wall, kicks off of it, and takes out another one with the resultant flying foot to the face.

“What the fuck?” Date shouts at his monitor. “How is he doing that?”

There’s no camera fudgery to imply that this beatdown is anything other than genuine. Ryuki grabs one of the larger men, lifts him by his legs, and swings him round until his skull cracks against someone else’s skull. He does this little cocky flex afterward with his little fucking noodle arms while surrounded by a circle of battered and bruised goons and it drives Date insane.

Date’s not sure how many more episodes he binges like this. Hell, he has no idea what time it is until Mizuki comes home from school by kicking open the door in her usual method of arrival. She sees Date sat at the computer and immediately hollers while she covers her face with her arms.

“It’s actually just TV this time, I swear,” Date assures her, looking out of the corner of his eye. He’s so absorbed that he can’t even tear his head away.

Date vaguely hears two thuds that must be Mizuki’s shoes hitting the floor, followed by the scuffs of socked feet across the wooden floor. They’re getting louder.

“What’s this?” Mizuki pipes up by his shoulder.

“The Somnium Files.” While his charge can be too in tune with more adult matters at times, Date doesn’t think this is the kind of show middle schoolers would gossip about on the playground. “Some show everyone’s into lately. It’s murder mystery crime junk.”

Date can hear the slight frown in her voice. “I’m not sure I’d like it if it’s that popular, and I definitely won’t like it if you’re so into it.”

“Yeah, I guess Milky Moon’s still more your spee— yeowch!”

Mizuki wanders away towards the kitchen while stretching out her wrist. Date rubs his shoulder, cursing under his breath while he struggles one-handed to replay the part he just missed.

* * *

The next time Date sees Ryuki, Date is on his way back from his lunch break. The travel cup in his hand doesn’t have much coffee left in it, but Date didn’t feel like sitting in that dingy little café any longer than necessary today just to finish it off. He still has about fifteen minutes, give or take, so he’s in no rush to get back. He strides through the automatic doors of Lemniscate and is mid-sip when he sees him stood by the reception desk.

Ritsuko is leaning over the desk, sticking her chest out and smiling toothily at him from below. Going by the red in Ryuki’s cheeks and the way he shifts in place, she’s in full-on flattery mode. It’s a funny dichotomy to see him like this when the character he plays could full well disembowel a live criminal without remorse. Anyway, Date feels like ruining everything, so he starts to walk over.

“Afternoon, people,” he calls jovially.

“Date!” Ritsuko trills, followed closely by Ryuki’s “Mr. Date, you’re working today?” in a register that is embarrassingly close to hers.

“Yeah, you still have like ten minutes of lunch left, silly,” Ritsuko carries on. “Why are you here?”

Date rolls a shoulder in a lazy shrug and lids his eyes at her. “What can I say? Sometimes I can’t bear to be away from this place longer than necessary.”

“Coffee,” Ryuki states.

He sounded kind of hoarse. He then feels the need to point at Date’s cup, as if to elaborate. Date almost wants to tell him well done and give him a sticker.

“That it is,” is what he decides to say instead. Date lifts the cup at him in a mock toast before he downs the rest. He underestimates how much is left, though, and finds that he has to take great gulps to ensure he doesn’t literally choke in public.

After he’s finished narrowly avoiding asphyxiation, Date looks to them both again. Ritsuko, who doesn’t miss a trick, looks amused. Ryuki, meanwhile, stares fixedly somewhere below Date’s face. It occurs to him then that Date hasn’t buttoned up his coat the whole way. He’s not immune to the warming effects of a hot drink and a brisk walk, so he has some extra ventilation for once. Ryuki hasn’t seen his bare neck and collar before, sure, but he looks too… Date wants to say ‘ravenous’, for that. Date swallows again. It’s slight, but Ryuki’s eyes bob up and down. Weird.

“So, what’re we up to today?” Date addresses them both again. He narrows his eye. “Ritsuko, you better not be scheming to sneak Ryuki out of the building with you, inside your purse." Date pauses to wink at Ryuki, even if the effect's diminished by the lack of a second eye. "Like you’ve threatened to. On a number of occasions.”

Ritsuko puffs her cheeks at him. “Um, those threats were made in confidence, Date. I’m reconsidering your invite to go with you to Atami and might take Ryuki instead, then.”

While Date almost clambers over the desk to borderline prostrate himself in front of Ritsuko, howling “I am sosorrypleaseforgiveme,” he can hear Ryuki starting to back away.

"You good?" Date calls after him when he realises Ryuki's already turned around to leave. "Don't worry, Atami's a nice place. She isn't threatening you, maybe."

Ritsuko smacks Date in the shoulder. Ryuki's smile is apologetic; flatter, even. “Sorry, I’d stay, but I’m expected in a couple minutes anyway.”

"Alright, then. See you later."

Ryuki carries on walking, looking much less energetic than before. Date and Ritsuko watch him go curiously, until he comes to a stop again. He stands there for a while. Date watches his hands draw into fists at his sides. In an instant, Ryuki spins on his heel to face them again. Actually, it's Date he addresses specifically this time.

“If you like coffee—” Ryuki starts, then stops. Sighs. Tries again while pointing at Date’s empty cup again this time. “That’s from the café down the road, right? I’ve had it, and it’s… well, I have a sort of… dressing room kind of thing, here?” He starts fidgeting with his tie again already. “And, I have some coffee that’s… pretty good, in my opinion. You’re w-welcome to have some, so— next time we’re both here, we could…?”

Tie gripped tight in his fist, Ryuki finally breaks eye contact with the floor to look up at Date. For such a pathetic-sounding invite as prelude, he has an intense stare.

“Sure,” Date almost surprises himself with how quickly he answers. “Can’t say no to free coffee, doubly so if it’s the good shit. You know where to find me.”

Unrestrained delight peals through Ryuki’s expression. “R-Right, I do. Thank you, Mr. Date. I’ll s-see you later!”

When he sets off for the far door, it’s with a spring in every step. Date smiles after him, thinking how nice it is to see him happy again, before he turns back to Ritsuko.

Ritsuko, who’s mouthing ‘yeeesss’ to him with her fist the air. She tugs it downward over and over like she’s tooting a train whistle. “Get in there, king,” she crows at him when Date starts walking away.

Date mumbles an “oh my god” as he returns to his post, getting as far away from her as quickly as possible, scrubbing his face with his hand as he goes.

* * *

With what might be some of the best coffee Date has ever had the fortune to sample as the foundation (“You have a French press in here?” Date whispers reverently to a beaming Ryuki, who presents it to him with a flourish), a strange little friendship forms between him and Ryuki. What they lack in common interest, they make up for with relatability. Ryuki is fascinated by what he learns of Date’s past, particularly his time in the force. Date, too, feels like he’s peering into another world when Ryuki clarifies that he is quite well-educated and well-off since well before the acting gig. Is it still obnoxious? Yes, but Ryuki somehow humanises it. He says he’s getting better at recognising those moments where his privileged history puts him on a totally different page to everyone else (“The bed thing?” Ryuki asks weakly, to which Date gives a solemn nod) and it all makes more sense to Date.

It's soon apparent that Ryuki doesn't know what to be in front of him at times, Date supposes; the woes of being a media darling. Date must have seemed content with how he was in their earlier meetings, so he hasn’t gone too far off-script (heh, acting joke— Ryuki would probably smack his shoulder for that one) in their recent time together. But there are… glimpses at times, of parts that Ryuki keeps hidden in himself. There’s something about his family that he’s evasive about, and he takes to messing with his watch whenever the topic of how Ryuki got into acting of all things in the first place. Some things must only really come out when he’s in front of a camera. But it’s okay; Date’s quite happy with Ryuki when he's out of frame, anyway.

Coffee breaks become more frequent between them, and sometimes turn into lunches. Ryuki offers to bring in food for them both one day and unveils the most decadent bento Date’s laid his eye on. Date might have choked out a marriage proposal with the egg roll of the gods partway down his throat, which makes Ryuki choke on his own and stammer that he has the food prepared for him. Rich moment. Date fires a cherry tomato at him.

When Date isn’t working, he gets up to speed with The Somnium Files at home when he isn’t passed out asleep on the couch. It’s a little surreal now that he’s friends with its main star, but Date stops caring in the end. Mizuki ends up sitting with him sometimes and they watch it together. Date worries the humour and more crimey aspects might be too adult for her at times until she reminds him of the horrors she's seen already with a simple misclick on their 'shared' PC. He concedes after that; besides, it's nice to share something like this with Mizuki, small as it is. It almost feels like they're bonding over something for once. They fire half-baked theories about the ongoing mysteries at each other and scathingly dissect the characters and their motives and relationships.

It's a warmer night when they watch the next episode live. There's been a breakthrough in the overarching case that’s featured heavily in this season so far; even the smaller, inconsequential cases end up factoring into it somehow. In spite of the revelations, Ryuki’s guy is having some crisis of confidence while Tama tries to get him through it. Seeing something so true to the Ryuki he knows better makes Date feel like he’s ‘in on it’ a little. His mouth twitches as he resists the smirk.

"He's not straight, is he?" Mizuki queries, pointing the next time Ryuki is onscreen with her half-eaten ice cream stick.

"What, the guy himself or the character he plays?” After a moment, Date side-eyes her over his own ice cream. “Wait, how would you know?"

"Eh, you kinda get a sense for these things. Comes with age."

Date’s questioning look turns weary. "You're, like, twelve.”

"Shut up. You're, like, eighty," Mizuki counters blandly. She props her Adorabbit-slippered feet on the table about a foot away from Date’s and sits back, arms folded behind her head. "I just don't really see anything going on between him and that officer lady. It feels weird more than anything. Why do they keep pushing it?"

Date shrugs. "It's prime-time. Gotta have that romantic hook in there in some shape or form, I guess."

"I dunno, it just feels so forced." The crease in Mizuki's brow deepens, popsicle stick bobbing in her mouth as she thinks. "Now if you were to tell me he's got the hots for that older detective guy; that's way more believable to me."

"You mean the one that's barely around anymore?" As it happens, the show’s first protagonist plays a part in things every so often. Ryuki’s character seems to look to him like a mentor. It’s an admirable relationship to have, Date thinks; it makes you want to root for Ryuki even more. 

“Do you hear him whenever he’s mentioned?” Mizuki looks too done for what she’s saying. She raises her hands to make air quotes. “’Ooh, everything I do is for him, I can’t let him see me fail, I loved him’! Ugh, he sounds like one of my classmates.”

“I don’t think he’s said that last part yet,” Date mutters, occupied with his ice cream. The words feel strange in his mouth. He grins and the feeling goes away. “Geez, Mizuki, spoilers.”

“We’re on the same episode!” Mizuki throws her hands in the air above her. The leftover stick goes soaring. “And he should have. Well, he— he’s basically saying it anytime he talks about him. It’s so obvious. Not that you’d get it.”

As Date crams the rest of his ice cream all into his mouth at once to stifle his laughter, he makes a mental note through the brain freeze to recount this conversation to Mizuki the next time she denies any interest in romance.

* * *

On Date’s next day off, he goes to Lemniscate for a chance of pace. Ryuki catches him outside and ‘sneaks’ him into the building past security (“I am security,” Date grumbles at him). He loves to allude to the fact that he shouldn’t be doing this when he isn’t doing anything illicit. Date wonders if he might get off a bit on the defiance of it. It’s a far tamer sort of rebellion for a celebrity than snorting hard drugs off a hooker’s panty line, at any rate.

He brings Date to the usual place of his not-quite-green room. It’s (actually beige? Ryuki would know) become a little haunt for both of them. Next to Ryuki’s obscene supply of coffee (“I swear the amount you have here has doubled since I said I liked it,” Date says to the room at large. Ryuki, busy over by the press, just whistles) is the mug Date brought in from home along with one of Ryuki’s own. Date has caught Ryuki looking fondly at them as they sit side by side on the counter. He’s deliberated offering to put both their toothbrushes in them next to see how high Ryuki jumps off the ground. He learned soon enough that dirty jokes simply go right past Ryuki (whether this is due a conscious effort or not, the mystery remains), but any kind of implications that involve the two of them? Works every time. Ryuki may be easy to fluster, but it’s so entertaining. Date takes no shame from indulging in low hanging fruit if the fruit goes a funny red colour over it sometimes.

The mug Date was looking at a while ago is pressed into his hands, warm and full. Either Ryuki’s fast at this now, or Date was spacing the hell out longer than he thought. Ryuki turns around before Date can thank him and he walks over to his mirror. Date notices a lack of coffee for Ryuki himself and raises an eyebrow at his back.

“I don’t have as long a break today,” Ryuki says, seeing Date’s reflection. “Long enough to see you, but not long enough to indulge in the blend of the day.”

Date chews for the implications of these words and comes up with nothing coherent. Rather than answer, he drinks deeply from his mug and hums appreciatively instead as he stares down into it. He senses Ryuki stand up a little straighter at the sound.

It’s possible that Ryuki might have another shoot after this. He inspects himself thoroughly, wiping some stray coffee dust off the edge of his cuffed sleeve. He spends an awful long time considering his tie before he finally decides to tug it apart. Date doesn’t mind silence between them like this normally, but he feels this itch today, like he wants to talk with Ryuki while he has the opportunity.

"I’ve been watching you recently. Your show, I mean. With my kid."

Like the phases of a dimmer light switch, it's fascinating to watch Ryuki brighten and then darken so much with each subsequent piece of information.

"Oh, that's… nice." Ryuki doesn’t even look at Date through the mirror. He busies himself with his tie still. Date doesn’t know how you can continue to tie a tie after it’s been tied, but Ryuki somehow manages it. "You, ah, have… children?"

Date wanders over by the clothes rail. He’s not sure what he expects to see; it’s still just duplicates of the same shirts and slacks Ryuki wears on set. Kind of like Date’s own wardrobe at home, now that he thinks about it. Something doesn’t seem right there.

"Just the one, thank god. I don’t think the apartment would survive through two of them.”

“I see.” 

Is it Date's imagination, or did Ryuki sound actually dead just now? Date tries not to look uneasy when he turns his back to Ryuki’s small collection of identical belts to address him again.

“Yeah, it’s certainly… different, when you go from being alone to sharing your living space with a child. Things have changed a lot since I took her in.”

“You… took her in?

“She’s my friend’s kid. Him and his wife, they… “ Date looks to the floor. Ryuki doesn’t need to know that much; if he's mum about his extended network, Date can be, too. “It… wasn’t a good environment for her. So I haven’t officially adopted her yet, but–”

"You keep calling her your kid, though." Date knows without looking that someone’s turned that dimmer way back up again. “That’s… that’s really cool of you, Mr. Date.”

As he says it, Ryuki looks down at his tie like it’s a child of his own.

Date feels a compelling need to steer this line of conversation elsewhere. He sets his mug down with a huff. “I don’t need a grown man who puts holes in his sleeves on purpose telling me I’m ‘cool’. On the topic of ruining a perfectly good wardrobe, what have you done to that thing?”

Date might have been mistaken before about the tie thing. He’s not sure what he’s looking at or what Ryuki could have done to achieve it. There’s just this huge knot with about a quarter of an inch of actual tie sticking out of the bottom, a lengthy… length of it dangling down the back. 

Ryuki laughs derisively. “Honestly, I have no idea. Can I say ‘whoops’ now, or is it too late?”

Date reaches out for the longest part and tugs on it. “You can’t walk around like that. C’mere, you don’t have time for this today.”

Ryuki sounds like he’s trying for complete words until Date yanks him away from them. Thanks to the sheer size of it, the knot shouldn’t be too difficult to for Date to undo. He gets to work on it.

“Geez, didn’t anyone ever teach you to tie one of these properly?” 

Okay, they might be standing pretty close together– close enough that he can and hear the working of Ryuki’s throat when he swallows– but Date didn’t intend for his voice to go that quiet.

“Guess not,” Ryuki answers back in a whisper. 

His eyes weigh heavy on Date’s hands. Date feels like he could be tempted to choke here– fumble, he means fumble– under the pressure. Date opens the large knot only to reveal an impossibly smaller, tighter knot beneath it. He sighs. As he tries to undo this one, it makes him wonder how good Ryuki would be with a rope with his full attention, and then Date stamps out that line of thought, because what the hell?

While he works on it, Date squints at Ryuki’s shirt collar. “You never button this thing, do you?”

Every time he sees Ryuki, he wears it loose. He’s curious if there’s even a button there to be buttoned. Date lifts a hand from the knot to feel around for it; he doesn’t trust his eyesight enough to spot white-on-white even at this proximity.

“N-Nope, not for me. Too restrictive.”

It’s the resonance from Ryuki’s voice– that, and the sudden heat on the pad of his thumb– which makes Date aware he’s off the mark and straight up has his hand on Ryuki’s neck now. Date doesn’t tear his hand away like he’s touched a hot grill but doesn’t quite achieve the opposite. Instead, he pinches the two of Ryuki’s his shirt collar between his thumb and forefinger until he closes the gap. Date’s verdict as button proxy is that Ryuki is 100% right— it's way too tight. Date feels the flicker of Ryuki’s pulse in his throat like this. His eye drifts back up to Ryuki’s face as he lets go, and he soon regrets it.

Grey eyes meet him right back. They're a lot darker and closer than they were a moment ago. Throw in that dishevelled look Ryuki has about him thanks to the undone tie and… it’s an image. 

“Actually.” Date hears the voice come out of his own throat as if he’s at the other end of the room. Everything so far has already felt like an out of body experience, so why not this, too. “This’ll be easier if I’m behind you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s kinda hard for me to do it in reverse, so…”

“Oh." Ryuki sounds a lot like his mind has just returned from elsewhere. "Dyspraxia?”

“Something like that, maybe, yeah.”

Ryuki seems frozen in place, so Date takes it upon himself to circle behind him instead. He’s right, it’s a lot easier to tie it this way. Loop-ty loop, round it goes, tuck it in, tug it out. Date puts all his focus into it because he doesn’t trust it to not drift onto other things this time. He draws the knot upwards until it’s tight, almost snug to his throat and drawing the halves of his collar together. 

Ryuki barely mumbles, “I have it looser, normally.”

Date’s almost impressed with himself that he catches this. He huffs and feels his breath bounce back off Ryuki’s shoulder. “So needy,” he says, and goes to loosen it. He pauses, considering, then grins to himself as he loosens the tie all the way until it’s barely in a loop anymore. “There we go, all done.”

Blank-faced, Ryuki peers down at himself, then into the mirror. He looks like he’s been poorly lassoed. He snorts as the tie almost slips down over his non-existent waist. “Wow, thanks. I’m ready for the rodeo.”

“Giddy-up,” Date chirps, and barely resists the urge to slap Ryuki’s ass like a mule. That might be overkill. The thought won’t leave him though, and he finds his eye drifting down to look at it. He has trouble finding it, actually— if it weren’t for Ryuki’s shirt tail, he would have missed it. Poor Ryuki. Gifted in many ways, but not in genetics.

“…Mr. Date?”

Date hums in recognition. He looks back up to find Ryuki at what might be his reddest yet. Seems he can only look at Date through the mirror, now.

“Can I help you?” he asks, shakily.

Oh, shit. Ryuki totally saw him checking out his ass, didn’t he. How long was he staring? Longer than what might be socially acceptable, judging by how the redness creeps from his cheekbones all the way to his ears. Date grasps for a way out of this. This hasn’t happened before; particularly not with a man. That fact doesn’t terrify him as much as how Ryuki feels towards him right at this moment.

“I was, uh, deep in it for a moment.” Shit. “Thinking about… cowboys.” That’s no better. “Sorry, wasn’t paying attention.” That’ll work. “Hey, don’t they need you on set soon? Better get going.”

Before Ryuki can formulate a response to any of that nonsense, Date is determinedly pushing him towards the door. This time, he makes sure he only touches his shoulders.

* * *

It’s not long before the events of that day are swept under the rug. At least, Date thinks so; nothing feels different between him and Ryuki since then. It takes the same length of time for Date’s agency to have its turn at getting its own wires crossed, as was predestined. Date arrives right at the same time as some other gormless-looking guy in a security uniform who stares at him by the entrance. Ryuki just so happens to be walking past when he witnesses the snafu for himself and is nothing short of delighted at the prospect of whisking Date away for another alternative day off.

“It’s great timing, actually,” Ryuki talks fast and brightly by Date’s ear as he almost pulls him alongside him, “we’re filming in one of the studios later today. You should come watch.”

“Is that allowed?”

Ryuki waves dismissively as he pushes them both through a set of double doors. “You could pass off as my bodyguard, easy.”

“I’m not getting paid for that, though, am I?”

“I pay you in premium coffee and the occasional lunch.”

“Mm, true." Date considers him, copying the pose Ryuki's character does with his hand over his chin. "You undersell yourself, though. You may not cook, but your coffee is god-like."

"Oh, c-come on. You're the one who's always so good to me."

Date pauses to relish in Ryuki's struggle in taking another compliment, then adds, "you’d make a killer barista."

Ryuki grimaces. "Don't say that. I'm pretty sure that's the exact premise of the episode we're shooting today."

Date could have been more interested in seeing the inner workings of making a TV show of this calibre, but it’s nowhere near as fascinating as observing Ryuki while he’s in his element. His passion is almost tangible when seeing him act in person like this. He works the whole spectrum of thrills to chills. He faces what feels like endless re-takes with good humour and shows remarkable patience when any of the set staff make an error.

“It’s okay,” he overhears Ryuki say quietly to one of the cameramen who looks very, very green in both senses of the word. “You’ve got this. I believe in you.”

He really does sound like your average anime protagonist when he ad-libs. Thank god the script does him more justice than that. Date also decides to turn the other cheek when Ryuki scratches his head with the mouth of his model gun, though he wishes his poor heart would do the same. It's the encouragement he needs when Ryuki's stance becomes so glaringly incorrect when he aims his pistol that he creeps up behind him when the camera's aren't rolling. Date puts his hands and arms over Ryuki's to correct his hold, re-orients his shoulders, straightens his back, and adjusts how he's standing. All the while, Date talks of mitigating recoil and maintaining a steady arm. Ryuki's only response in the end is a 'meep'. He does much better after that.

It's the first time Date sees for himself how readily Ryuki punches other people in the face, as well as just how readily apologises to his victims when they cut the cameras. Turns out that it is all Ryuki when it comes to the more physically combative scenes; a thrilling truth for Date to have confirmed, for reasons he can’t fathom. A key moment is when they unmount one of the cameras and try to rotate it around Ryuki to find the best angle— while he’s holding a fairly burly man in a chokehold. They have him like this for a good few minutes. Burly’s feet don’t touch the ground once.

“It can take a lot longer, especially when Kakuma’s here— she plays Tama,” Ryuki explains to Date later when they finish for the day. He has nothing but a fond smile when discussing his fellow actor. “Some of her lines really make her crack up sometimes, and it ruins the whole take, and then it keeps happening— especially when everyone else catches her giggles. If any blooper reels ever come out of this, she’d feature in at least eighty percent of them and probably be responsible for the other twenty.”

Date is content to listen to him as he rambles about the efforts of the rest of the crew all the way through the building and out the front. As he waves Ryuki goodbye for the night, it hits him that it’s been some time since he’s had someone new in his life that he would be content to listen to like this.

It proper clocks him after his old boss gives him a call out of the blue asking if he was free for a catchup. Boss— because calling her Boss even now just feels right, even without her insistence— invites him out to a bar in Golden Yokocho that’s more her scene than Date’s. It doesn’t matter much, though— the company and the drink are what counts.

Boss considers Date’s recent happenings over a bottle of prosecco she works through steadily. She shakes her head in disbelief. “Never in my wildest imaginations would I have taken you for a sugar baby. And with some college freshman-lookin' daddy, of all things— I’ve seen him before.”

"He's closer to thirty than twenty." Why Date protests to that part first, he'll never know. 

Boss finishes off her current glass, which is almost all of it, before slamming it on the table. Her resulting 'ahhh' travels far enough that Date feels it on his cheek. "Wow, I hate him, actually." 

"And I'm starting to get the feeling people tune the fuck out when I say that the money and fame and whatever has nothing to do with any of it.” Date fails to get the attention of the bartender for a refill once again. He sucks his teeth. Why does Boss always take them places that are so busy? “He makes good company— better than you, sometimes. What, I can't make a new friend outside of you clowns?"

"They didn't cover relationships in circus school," Boss drawls at him, pouring herself another glass. "And they didn't need to. I can see the signs already. You say 'friend', but I bet you the topic of erotic magazines hasn't come up between you two once."

Date opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, then reaches over with the intent to down the rest of his own drink. He stares, and an empty glass stares back.

Boss tilts her head back with laughter and gulps down more alcohol. “This guy's real different for you this time, isn't he? Frankly, I can't wrap my head around it." She furrows her brow while she drinks some more. Her glass slams down with some finality like she thinks she’s cracked it. "How strapped for cash are you? I thought they were giving you more than enough shifts now that you can go to Lemniscate."

“They are! And we just covered the money thing when I said it’s not a thing!” Date starts to drum impatiently against the metal counter, watching the occupied bartender with narrowed eye.

"Look, I'm just. Saying. He doesn't fit your usual M.O. I’ve seen pictures of the guy." Boss starts counting off on her fingers. "No ass, no thighs, no tits— this man has no boingy bits. Nada. Bupkis. Gotta be after his wallet. Unless…"

Boss leaves him waiting on this one for a while. Date finally has a full glass again and raises it to his lips when she comes out with, “unless you're that hard done by for sex.”

Date sprays his (blessedly) small mouthful over the table. Boss, unphased by this, keeps going.

“He’s still kinda young, though, right? Young enough?” Her voice drops from excitement to a deep, longing drone. “Oh, I bet once you get him going, he goes on for hours."

Date finds himself occupied by visions of tight knots and pale, flushing necks.

“I’m not hearing this right now,” he announces. Date puts his hands over his ears until he realises he can’t drink if he does that. He takes a measured mouthful and then returns his hand to his ear with the glass in it this time.

"Oh, man, okay, that reframes it.” Boss’ widened eyes make her look like her world has expanded beyond measure. She grabs Date’s shoulder and shakes him. “You can't not fuck him at least once now. If he's anything like you've described, he's probably down."

"Shizue," Date grunts testily between his fingers. Since when were his hands over his mouth? Whatever, he’s still not drunk enough for this conversation.

The use of her actual name has the desired effect. “Okay, dialling it back,” Boss says appeasingly, moving backward to lean against the back of her chair.

She’s sitting on a stool. Date takes a long, slow, loud sip as he pretends he doesn’t hear or see anything happen.

* * *

“Someone’s quiet today. What’s got you in such a funk?”

If there’s some manlier alternative to a pout, Ryuki manages it. Date hasn’t heard a word out of him except for a vacant ‘hey’ when Date came knocking at his not-green door himself this time. He didn’t even comment on the donuts Date brought. When Date polishes off the second or third one he took for himself after Ryuki showed no interest, he starts to talk.

“I keep thinking about this one scene coming up.”

“No spoilers.”

Ryuki thins his mouth at Date. He smiles, chewing, and blinks back at him, like he hasn’t seen several spoilers already just from his time on the set.

“There’s this scene,” Ryuki shakes his head and forges on ahead, “where I do this… move in order to apprehend the culprit. The script’s pretty vague, and the board’s not much better. Usually I take some inspiration from the gun-fu I know—”

“Is that a real thing?” Date accidentally verbalises this around his last mouthful.

“—and modify it to fit the situation, but I’m stumped with this one.”

Date gulps some coffee to wash the donut down. He’s not sure what to say; he appreciates that Ryuki might be incapable of half-assing anything, but he dead-ass can’t seem to whole-ass this one.

After a while, Ryuki breaks the silence again. “I sort of have an idea, but…”

He frowns, eyes to the floor again. Date tilts his head to try and catch them, but Ryuki meets him first.

“Can I, um, use you?”

Date tries to remember when he last cleaned his ears out. “Whuh?”

“Like, use you.” Ryuki’s so earnest in what Date imagines is a very serious request that it might actually be diluting his blush. “To show you what I mean.”

“I… don’t think I’m following, so I’ll just say— yes, you can put your hands on me wherever you want. Can we have a safe word?”

It happens rather quickly. With Date’s already unstable posture, it’s only natural that his legs could get swept out from under him so easily. Before he can plummet towards the floor, an arm wraps firmly around his shoulders from the front— avoiding his neck— while another goes around his waist. He can’t see what Ryuki does with his legs, but it feels like he’s clamped his knees either side of one of Date’s own to help further anchor him in place.

“Uh,” he says after.

“I think,” Ryuki breathes quietly somewhere near his nape, “I want something like this as a baseline, but it’s too… clumsy.”

Security may not be that active a job, and it wasn’t like Date had any reason to believe otherwise, but Ryuki is far fitter than Date; astonishingly so. They stay suspended like this. This isn’t any kind of quiet consideration; it’s loud. And hot. Why is it hot.

"Yeah, I mean,” Date surprises himself with his coherence, “it's not quite like what they train you to do it in the force, but it works fine for television."

"I… I want it to be more genuine than that. Would you happen to have any ideas?”

“Honestly? Nothing wrong with a good ol’ judo throw. That’s not clumsy; hell, I used to work under a guy who had it down to an art.”

Ryuki starts slipping his arms off of Date while making sure both his feet still go to the ground. He looks thoughtful while he manoeuvres Date’s arms and chest this way and that and peers at him from different angles. Date just lets him do what he wants now. He feels like a doll. Ryuki has one of his shoulders do a full rotation and it sends a spark of inspiration to his brain.

“Ooh— wait, wait. Can we switch? I thought of something.”

Ryuki lets go, allowing Date to move around. He tries to face Date as he walks, but Date shakes his head.

“I said switch, Ryuki. Stay facing that way.”

“Right, sorry.”

Date positions himself until he’s stood behind Ryuki. The memory of the last time they stood like this hasn’t quite faded. Ryuki tenses; he might be recalling this for himself.

“I don’t think you’ve tried anything like this before, from what I’ve seen.” Date begins, feeling more hesitant as he goes. “Could you, uh, get on your—”

Date doesn’t think he has ever seen someone drop to their knees so quickly, and he’s seen so much porn. How did that not hurt? Maybe it did— Ryuki’s awful quiet.

“Right,” Date strains to keep it going, “so, um, once you’ve got them on the ground like this— you know how to do that, I didn’t want to just tackle you— you can…”

He reaches for Ryuki’s left upper arm. It stiffens on contact, but becomes more pliable when Date tries to tug it towards him.

“You could always be creative in how you restrain their arms,” is Date’s vague description. “Like, you could do this?” He pins Ryuki’s arm against his back— gently, of course, because someone will kill him if he wrenches their star’s shoulder in the middle of filming. Date takes his other hand and pushes at Ryuki’s head with it, trying to guide him downwards. “Then you, uh, push their head into the floor, if you can.”

Wordlessly, Ryuki lets Date moves his head until it touches the floor. Date wasn’t sure if he would.

“Now, you could… um…”

Unfortunately, without any other instruction for how Ryuki should have been positioned, all Date has managed to go is get him into this weird position with his ass in the air. With Date up close and hunched over him like this, he’s almost mounting him. Date is now thankful that Ryuki couldn’t and still can’t see any of this and wonders why he bothered in the first place.

“Could always go for their legs instead, like a full Nelson,” Date mutters. His brain might have defaulted to this next bit out of self-defense. “That’s never not sexy.”

Ryuki’s groan is more of a grunt after the words leave Date’s mouth. He gets to his feet and moves before Date can figure out what he’s up to. Once again, Ryuki is fast. He’s already behind Date, his hands hovering partway up Date’s legs.

Holy shit, he’s not— “Wait, Ryuki, I was only—”

Hands grip the back of his thighs. What’s scarier still is that Date thinks he might actually do it. Date can feel Ryuki shaking through his chest, only it’s not shaking, it’s—

He’s laughing. Ryuki’s trying not to, but he’s laughing. Before Date can complain, they start falling backwards. The fear for his life feels appropriate, because if he's not mistaken, Ryuki's opting to suplex him instead. Date feels the pit of his stomach fall with them, but luckily for both of them, Ryuki is good at what he does. He takes on most of the impact Date would have felt otherwise when they land on the floor, and he rolls to mitigate it. Even though Date’s thankful Ryuki didn’t let him get hurt, he’s not thankful enough to not try to shove Ryuki back into the floor again.

They go back and forth like this for a while. Honestly, it’s straight up playfighting at this point. Date wrangles his arm, Ryuki gets Date with a feint that’s just plain cruel, and he takes advantage of it to tackle Date down himself.

Ryuki’s only a little out of breath when he says, “got you there, Date."

Date stares upwards, chest still heaving. With a healthy flush about him, Ryuki leers over him from his straddled position hovering over Date's waist. There's a playful, self-satisfied look about his face. It might be the closest to smug Date has ever seen from him.

It’s either that or the dropped honorific that sets him off.

With a burst of energy he feels like he's reached back at least five years to grab hold of, Date bucks his hips upwards with forceful thighs. While the move only brushes their pelvises together, it's enough contact to stop Ryuki from smirking and gets him yelping and wobbling instead. Date takes advantage of his lack of balance and dives into Ryuki, bowling him over. Overpowering him like this is easy with his body mass and gravity on Date’s side. Now their positions are reversed; Ryuki stares wide-eyed up at a smug Date, who has his wrists pinned either side of his head.

What might have been a faint blush on Ryuki before turns blotchy, disappearing away behind his collar.

"Sure about that?" Date breathes out the taunt over Ryuki's mouth.

It does something to him. He watches Ryuki work his jaw, only to answer with a vague "m-mmn." 

Non-verbal? It's looking like a win to Date. "Sooo, is that a yes or a no?"

The swell of Ryuki's throat bobs as he swallows. "Yes," he breathes after.

His eyes are heavy lidded, dark and delicious. Date forgets what he's saying yes to, too occupied by the enjoyable feeling of smothering Ryuki’s smaller body with his own. He thinks fuzzily that either he’s hard, Ryuki’s hard, or they’re both hard after that, because something doesn’t feel right down there, and he’s not sure which outcome is more terrifying to think about. Date chooses to abort and rolls off him without grace. Date overshoots, keeps going, and ends up finishing face-down about three feet away. He almost hits the clothes rail.

“Hopefully that gave you some ideas,” Date speaks into the floor.

He hears Ryuki sit up after a moment. “Yeah,” he says back with a croak, “that— yeah.”

It's so anti-climactic. Date goes home that day thinking about Jupiter and lost opportunities.

* * *

Date feels rather unsettled.

He could have been thinking about the events of that day again, his little ‘wrestling’ thing with Ryuki, and how he’s hardly seen head nor tail of the man for days since. But in this instance, there’s something odd that might mean he’ll have to do his job for real, for once. It’s close to closing again and Date hears shuffling out in the corridor when he closes the door of his locker.

He turns, frowning. No one else would normally be around here, not at this time. Most if not all the current staff will have left already. Ryuki might be the only exception, but Date hasn’t seen him today at all.

His heart picks up at the thought of who they may be, what they’re here for. They could be an employee who decided to stay late for once, but this place doesn’t seem to have the culture for that. Most prefer to take any extra work home with them instead. Someone might’ve left something behind and came back for it; that was most likely. If they aren’t an employee, could they be trying to hide or get away from something? Someone?

Or it could be someone with more nefarious intent. Perhaps they’re here to steal something—equipment, or maybe data? That might be how those people on the internet get information leaks about certain productions. They might be stalking someone who works there. If someone well-known like the news anchors or Ryuki himself hangs around here, it could even be an eager fan who has no concept of boundaries. Date feels a pulse of anger at the concept, but he can’t stay in there fuming forever in case it does turn out to be some sort of thief and can still be stopped before they nab anything. He gathers his wits and shuts off the light before he leaves the locker room.

This corridor is as poorly lit as it was when Date first started here. It’s enough for him to make out the person near the other end of the corridor. The lack of a lanyard is an immediately poor sign of things. They’re dressed in what looks like sportswear; a simple grey hooded jersey with some leggings and running shoes. The jersey looks cheap, but the rest doesn’t. The hood is pulled up over their head, which is an immediate tip-off because no one does that inside a place like this. It’s hard to him to be covert when they probably already know Date is there— they would have seen the light under the door leading to the locker room— but he tries to creep after them without making too much noise.

It’s fortunate that they were both on the ground floor; Date would have a harder time tailing them in secret if they took the stairs or the elevator. He’s familiar enough with the floor plan of the site to know that this figure is going to lead him to an unalarmed fire exit soon enough. Ryuki has mentioned before that no one really uses it because the alley it leads into is blocked off now, so this couldn’t be an employee. Things aren’t adding up too nicely here.

Date watches them push the bar that allowed the doors to open, then leave. He waits a few seconds for the door to almost swing closed again. Date throws out a hand to stop it, then waits a little longer. He pushes it open just enough to let himself out with minimal noise. That should have given the intruder enough of a head start to realise they’ve fucked up. Further supporting the exit’s lack of use was the absence of functional lighting once Date stepped out into the night air. Some light bleeds in from sources in the neighbouring streets and buildings, but visibility’s next to none.

Nothing he hasn’t handled before. Already Date feels his senses sharpen to a point, blunted though it may be. He starts to make his way down the alley, using the wall as a vague guide. He hears the rattling of metal the further he goes. Up ahead he can see the indistinct, pale shape of the figure appear to be floating half up in the air. Getting closer has the effect of the low light reflecting off what might be a tall wire mesh fence, with their intruder perched at the top of it with an unbothered air about themb. Clearly they didn’t let it get in their way; by no means was the climb a struggle for them. This was so odd. They don’t seem panicked or rushed at all.

"Hey!" Date barks ahead as he approaches. "The hell do you think you're doing? You’ve been trespassing."

The figure could have turned then, but it was hard to be certain between the hood and the dark. A moment’s hesitation, and they tipped sideways off the fence to land the other side of it.

What the hell was this? No one vaults over fencing like that unless they're running from something, but no one attempts it so leisurely, either. Date’s call has certainly sped them up, though; their footsteps echo on in the alley ahead. He feels obligated to keep up the pursuit now, but damn— it’s been a long time since Date’s done anything like this himself.

He manages to find footholds on the fence, even in the dark. Date isn’t as fast, but he’s no slouch either. He reaches the top and touches down on the other side with a grunt.

The figure isn’t far from here. This time, Date can see them turn to face the source of the noise. They freeze. Date smirks openly under the cloak of night. Didn’t see that coming, did they?

Of course, their natural response is to start running for real. Date takes off after them.

Whoever it is, they aren’t trying to impede Date’s progress through any means; they’re counting on their agility and speed to outpace him. So far it looks like they’ll give Date a run for his money, but he isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

They turn a sharp corner, almost sending Date skidding into a trash bin and some old boxes when he attempts it himself. Rather than run straight ahead, the figure spots something high up on one of the buildings and makes a leap for it. With a loud clang, they grab onto whatever they had their eye on and manage to get it to extend downward. Date watches them swing from it and thinks that’s all they’ll do, until they lift themselves up and start to climb up.

“What—” Date gets close enough to see that they’ve spied an old fire escape ladder, of all things. That’s what they use to ascend out of Date’s reach. With a shout of exertion, the figure manages to toss himself up and off the ladder to grab the end of a higher ledge. Date watches him dangle and takes the moment to be mildly afraid yet impressed before they swing off that to land at bottom of a set of metal stairs.

Damn, they are good. Date has a much easier time of getting up after them with the path laid out for him. He struggles to lift himself off the top of the ladder, though— he’s not trying for that ledge, no way. With a lot of grunting and stretching, Date manages to find another way up, but it still takes a few months off his life at least. When did he get so poorly out of shape? Date lands on the steps and scrambles up them right as the grey hooded head disappeared over the roof.

At this elevation, the lighting is much more generous. The top of this building is largely free of obstacles; Date gets the impression that there isn’t much footfall up here. He still has to be mindful he doesn’t spear himself on a rusty nail or slip on any bird shit. Neither of these will offer him a graceful way to die, even if the chasing part is admirable enough on its own.

Up ahead, while his target doesn’t seem to be waiting for him, Date can see them milling back and forth at the other of the roof. This is his chance to catch up so him. The beginning of Date’s sprint is somehow loud enough to catch the attention of this figure, who stands for about a second before they turn and dash off themselves.

As he gets closer, Date starts to appreciate that there really is no way off this roof other than the likely locked stairwell and literally jumping off the roof onto the next building over, and— wait, they’re not going to—

Date shouts out before he can stop himself. “Wait, don’t—!”

They leap over the gap with the grace of any hurdle runner. When they land on the other side and take off again, Date isn’t far from having to make the jump himself. Man, Date didn’t sign up for any of this.

He slows to observe the distance. If this guy can do it, Date probably can too. In fact, now that he’s closer— yeah, that’s doable. That roof’s much lower than this one. Still, he curses to himself and hopes his reunion with the MPD doesn’t involve them scraping his sorry ass off the pavement below. Date jumps.

He clears it without issue, but Date could have landed better than he did. His legs are starting to ache. In his head, a voice that sounds an awful lot like Mizuki calls him old man and it gives him a burst of vigour that has Date sprinting off again. The figure still runs ahead of him. Date saw him occasionally turn to check for his pursuer from a distance before he made the jump, but now that he has, they double-take and speed right back up again. Definitely a young person; Date can’t match the energy.

Date finds himself dimly aware of the view of the city skyline up here as he continues the chase. He would stop to admire the scenery in any other situation. God, he hopes this person doesn’t want to make any more mad leaps. Date feels less and less confident he has one more in him with each heavy thud of his feet on the concrete.

Lady Luck gives him a break as the figure starts to slow. Either they’re getting tired from it all too, or they must think there’s no real way forward without just plummeting to their inevitable splat of death down on the streets. When they come to a stop right at the roof’s edge, Date might come to a halt somewhat earlier than he would have liked to.

“Nowhere left to go, eh?” Date calls out to them. Such a cool line (it’s not the words, but how he says it that counts) feels less impressive when you’re bent over to catch your breath. He's either getting old or out of practice. Date opts for the latter.

Once Date straightens up, he moves to look at this person more closely now that they have nowhere else to run. They're dressed too lightly to have any firearms hidden on their person, but he can't rule out knives just yet. Date’s still poised for a fight if it comes to it.

For the first time, the figure speaks. "Hold on— Mr. Date?"

Date frowns as the figure turns around. No one calls him that except–

They tug down their hood, only for their face to be obscured by a black ski mask, of all things. Date feels alarmed for about half a second (justified, because 1) who wears these without the intent of committing some sort of crime and 2) Tokyo’s not cold enough for this) before they reach for the bottom to peel it back. It pops off in a flurry of scruffy black hair.

"What? You?"

With an almost smarmy grin, Ryuki wipes the sweat from his nose. "You had me going for a while there. If I didn't believe you used to be in the police before, I sure would now."

In the midst of Date’s shock, there’s a part of him that registers Ryuki is slightly out of breath and revels in the fact that he did that, kinda. It doesn’t make it any easier for Date to reply. He still feels like a gaping fish.

"I— you—” Date ends up throwing his arms up at him as he yells, “what were you doing?" 

Ryuki blinks at him owlishly. "I, uh, free run on some nights," he says. At Date's blank look, he elaborates. "Like, parkour and stuff. I usually leave through the back so I have a smaller chance of being recognised. S’not a bad starting route, either." Ryuki looks even more pleased, if that’s possible. “You took me a little off course this time and I had to be sort of riskier than normal at some points, but still, not bad. You got to see that for yourself tonight.”

"Oh." So he wasn't a stalker or a thief or being chased by crime goons. Date's huffing and puffing and it was just over taking Ryuki for a walk with a lot of extra steps and jumps. Well, that's not embarrassing at all. Date looks down to avoid looking at Ryuki's face but doesn't know what else to look at. He runs an eye over Ryuki's sports leggings, which look thin and bereft of any real function other than to accentuate the definition of the man's calves. Date frowns. He looks at the balaclava instead and gestures at it. "Is… all this really necessary?"

Ryuki stands in a way that's become all too familiar now; one hand on his hip, one at the back of his head. Thinking about it, Date can't recall any time he's seen him do this on TV.

"I'm pretty open about my hobbies, so it helps me not get recognised. It's… saved me from a few close calls, too. You're not the first to try chasing me down like this." Ryuki gives Date a look that may be his own spin on 'impish'. "I maaay or may not have almost been caught trespassing a couple times."

How does one pick up running between rooftops and scaling fire escape ladders as a hobby? It's as if Ryuki senses the question. He drops his hand to look thoughtfully into the ground.

"There's always been something so… I guess 'freeing' is how I'd describe it.” Ryuki folds his arms and looks thoughtfully at the city’s horizon. Something about him standing against this backdrop makes him look almost picturesque to Date. “You're in this constant moment where the only things that matter are where you are now, where you're headed next, and all those structurally sound snap decisions you have to make to get from A to B. All else just… falls away."

For the overthinker that is Ryuki, Date sees the appeal. "That's a few octanes more than what I do to wind down. It usually involves sitting at a shrine, or a magazine." Date's smile is derisive, but good-natured. "So when being filmed for an audience of thousands doesn't cut it for you, you leap off buildings. If I didn't know any better, I'd say those are the hallmarks of a suicidal maniac or an adrenaline junkie."

When Ryuki laughs, he gives Date a smile that's all teeth. The last time Date saw him smile like this was shortly before he had a lot of men passed out on the floor around him. Date tries to think how he would fit into a situation like that. He feels something drop in his stomach and doesn’t care to retrieve it.

"Says the ex-cop. You're right about it not being relaxing, though. I do other stuff for that."

For him to say it like that, Date can’t not ask. "Like what?"

Ryuki hesitates. Perhaps he spoke the quiet part out loud by mistake. He looks away from Date to stare at the nearest wall, but finds no answers there. Back to Date. He claps his hands together like this line of conversation is now closed.

"Man, it's cold now that I've stopped." Ryuki's voice has taken on that weird, higher range again, but what did he mean by that? "What're we still doing up here? You, uh, doing anything right now?"

Half of Date still wants to know what the other stuff is. The other half decides to check his watch. He was toying with the idea of heading to Gen's before going home, but that was before he ended up chasing Ryuki across several blocks. Then again, there's no work tomorrow to worry about, and the thought of what might happen next if Date brings Ryuki to one of his old haunts incites a curiosity that's strangely invigorating.

"I was gonna go grab a drink and maybe a bite to eat," Date pauses, then adds with a dismissive shrug because fuck it, "if you wanted to join me,"

There he goes. Ryuki, shifting in place again— "That sounds nice, actually. You don't mind?"

Oh. That was easy. "Wouldn't have offered if I did."

As they both leave, it occurs to Date that he still doesn't know how Ryuki gets around. As in, does he drive or not. Not— that. Anyway, feeling validated after the most opportunistic recon session Date could ever have asked for outside the jurisdiction of the police, courtesy of Ryuki and his wild hobbies, he personally would not leave his own car parked around here overnight. He wouldn’t want Ryuki to do the same when he undoubtedly drives something that has the same cost as, like, at least twenty-odd of Date’s Falcons.

“Do you want to drive there separately, or…?”

"I had my–" Ryuki stops in his tracks. Date looks at him curiously, while he looks hesitantly back. "Err, that is, I… got a lift to work."

Date’s suspected for some time now that Ryuki might not have any friends outside of work or Date, so this makes for an odd response. Oh, wait. Date thinks he knows what’s up. He snorts and says, “you get one rich boy pass this time.”

Ryuki’s shoulders sag with gratitude. “Okay, the car thing’s not an issue. My driver can just... drive himself home.”

Right, makes sense. No one drives themselves around in a limousine, do they? Date ignores the critical damage because he incited it unto himself this time. “I’ll give you a ride, then.”

Date doesn’t think he’s ever had anyone else be as keen to be inside his car as Ryuki. He’s quiet at the beginning as he takes a great interest in simply watching Date drive. Maybe it looks cool to him since he doesn’t know to do it himself. Date doesn’t mind the attention; not enough people think Date looks cool when he does things. Eventually, Ryuki asks about the kind of food Gen serves, and Date indulges him. Ryuki expresses interest in trying almost everything Date says he’s had before and shares his own collection of unusual food adventures (Date decides this doesn’t count as a rich moment; it's getting too much to keep up with at this rate), right up until they leave Date’s car by the usual secluded street corner and until they stood outside Brahman itself. To their joint disappointment— more Ryuki’s than his— Brahman looks closed for the night. 

"It's fine, we'll go to Marble instead. It's more of a snack bar, but Mama will look after us."

Ryuki follows Date into Marble with wide-eyed curiosity. He’s too busy looking around at the décor to notice Mama moving in behind him. She peers down at his backside with muted but preemptive interest before Date can mutter to her, "down, girl."

"Oh look at you, staking your claim. You've nothing to fear, honey." Blissfully, Mama matches Date’s volume. Ryuki might be too absorbed in the painting of Saint Sebastian on the wall to take heed, but better to be safe. "Not with that washboard, at any rate. Sheesh, I thought it was just a case of unflattering camera angles..."

Ryuki turns away from the painting to find them both staring at him. He must be so used to this happening on any other day that it doesn’t phase him. He smiles at Mama with a simple, “good evening. You must be Mama.”

Mama swells with jubilance. Date never considered that having Ryuki already know her name would please her so. "And you must be Mr. Ryuki! Lovely to meet you in the flesh like this. Come, come, sit down. Date speaks of you to no end, my dear. If you ask me, I'd say he's a big fan of yours."

Ryuki puts a hand to his cheek as he laughs, while Date glowers at her.

"Oh, look," he says loudly as he plants himself at the bar first, "the fridge is talking again, and I haven't even had any booze yet. Let's fix that, shall we?"

As Ryuki takes a seat next to him, his eyes pore over what's behind the counter. His mouth forms a small 'o' of recognition when he spots the purple appliance, scrunches his face when he gets it and tries not to laugh. He’s so clever. In the end, Ryuki’s smile only goes little wider. Maybe there is such a thing as too polite. Date wonders how much alcohol it'll take to fix that.

"Oh, great, you're already corrupting him,” Mama bemoans. "Pay him no mind, Ryuki, and tell me what you'd like to drink. It'll go on Date's tab."

Date protests with a loud "hey!“ while Ryuki deliberates. Date's mind whirls with the possibilities of Ryuki's drink of choice before he asks, "do you have any brandy? On ice, if that’s okay.”

“Naturally!”

Date doesn’t know why he’s surprised anymore. Mama looks no less pleased before she turns around. Date tries to convey the enormity of this rich moment to Ryuki with his eye alone while Mama busies herself with bottles and glasses. Ryuki’s still too polite to flip Date off in return, but it doesn’t stop him looking like he wants to.

Oh, yeah. Date can fix this for sure.

The three of them spend a rambunctious, but not rowdy, evening together. Today Date learns that Ryuki drinks brandy like it’s water, which shouldn’t be such an enticing fact about him, but it is. Date thought his own tolerance was fairly high, but for someone built like a clothes horse like Ryuki is, holding that much alcohol this well is almost concerning. It certainly doesn’t stop him from getting to his feet and propping one of his legs up on the counter to stretch it out while he animatedly tells Mama about the sick feats he can accomplish with them. Date drinks deeply from his glass as he theorises over what other, sicker feats Ryuki could manage with legs like those. Date isn't sure if the proper treatment for this line of thinking is more alcohol or less. Mama helps him by refilling his glass again.

There’s an honest to god adorable moment where Ryuki is too focused on what Mama’s doing to hear anything she or Date says anymore. This comes after she’s decided to take out her old bonito to absently start rubbing at it again. He watches her so avidly that Mama can’t ignore it anymore. Later, when she slides a small bowl down the counter towards Ryuki, he and Date both peer into it to see it’s full of bonito flakes. After some consideration, a tiny bottle of soy sauce follows. Ryuki looks like he might start crying. Date doesn’t even want to think what sort of expression he’s making at the sight of all this. He tries to obscure it by keeping his mouth pressed to his glass. Mama’s too good to him.

Date can’t recall the last time he’s had this much fun being out drinking with someone. He doesn’t like to think it’s because Ryuki's younger than his other friends. Even back when he was still a detective, Date has always operated on this wavelength that didn’t always fall into step with the likes of Boss and Pewter despite how well he got on with them. With Ryuki, it feels like he fills in the gaps Date wasn’t cognisant of before. They share a strong justice, even if it doesn’t always come out in their interactions with each other. They’re both committed to their work, even if Date does a better job of obfuscating this while Ryuki could stand to dial it back a bit. Date winds him up while still reminding him to unwind and Ryuki does the same in return, whether he’s aware of it or not. It’s very ebb and flow, back and forth, like when a force meets an object with an equal and opposite reaction.

Still, Date feels like they’re at a gap between two roofs again. What’ll happen if one goes ahead of the other? Will it be too far? If one leans into this, what’ll happen when the other does the same? Will there be a collision, or a fall? Date feels a burning need to make the leap, but hesitation is the mud that glues his feet.

The time and drinks flow in equal measure. Date and Ryuki eat up enough of it between the two of them that it turns their conversation heated and giggly. Date is finally gifted a Ryuki with less restraint and it’s marvellous. An offhand comment from Mama about how messy sex is, when you get right down to it, earns her a frankly astonishing answer when Ryuki decides to contribute to a conversation about a sex thing for once. He does it in such a Ryuki way, though, that it leaves Date wheezing and wiping at his eye. This evolves into the most ridiculous back and forth that has both Ryuki and Date getting louder and more entertained by the other’s responses. Eventually, it gets to a point where they’re just shouting at each other while Date shakes Ryuki’s shoulders. Ryuki elbows him back while he tries to shove him off his stool.

“Ryuki, you have four beds.”

“You’ve added a whole extra one!” Ryuki’s surprisingly coherent when he’s sloshed. He barely slurs and just gets sillier. “Look, all I’m saying is that it’s not the dumbest idea ever.”

“To have a separate bed. For sex. Just sex. Not for sleeping.”

“No, I mean— you want your bed free from stains, right? It makes sense to not have sex on it.”

“Have you not heard of ‘washing the sheets’? Please tell me you can use a washing machine.”

“But think of the liquids, Date. Do you know how liquids work?”

“Yeah, they wash out.”

“They leak. You can wash pillows and sheets but you can’t wash a mattress.”

“That’s what mattress protectors are for!”

“They still leak! If you have the option, another bed is the way to go!”

“You have four fucking beds!”

“I hate to intervene during what seems to be a very engaging topic between you two,” Mama manages to squeeze in between their bouts of laughter, right before they both tip over the edge of hysteria, “but I should’ve closed up shop an hour ago. Forget your Ps and Qs, start minding your G-T-F-Os.”

Date starts booing at her. Ryuki provides the hiss. Despite this, they’re both vocally and openly fond of Mama as they begin the dangerous process of getting to their feet to leave. Ryuki is especially thankful for her great service. Date is thankful for how much she provided the setting to see exactly what he wanted to from Ryuki for months.

His thankfulness is short lived. As Mama waves them both goodnight when they’re out of the bar, she stands in the doorway looking pensive. Date is about to ask what’s up when she says, “I’m kind of on team ‘sex bed’, by the way.”

With the match lit, she shuts the door in Date’s stricken face before he can finish his “motherfuck”, but not before Ryuki can shout a loud and triumphant “HAH” in Date’s ear and send him reeling.

Mama may have let them loose onto the streets of Golden Yokocho, but kicking them both out into the cold does a decent job of sobering them up. Date and Ryuki’s merrymaking might have been somewhat of an environmental thing rather than an overabundance of drink. Ryuki is definitely still at a level of tipsy, or giddiness, where he actively chooses to walk a meandering path down the street rather than try to walk straight next to Date.

It takes minutes of Ryuki playfully dancing around him for Date to find he's doing the same in return. They have this unusual back and forth going, shoulders brushing together before they part again, only to be brought back together later anyway. Unrestrained and unguarded like this, the pull is almost magnetic, unavoidable. Kind of like how Date's eye keeps going back to Ryuki's leggings.

Because Date feels like it, the next time Ryuki drifts by him, he flips his hood over his head. It gets a funny yelp out of him that has Date cackling. Not to be outdone, with something of a boyish giggle, Ryuki manages to slip his ski mask over Date's head. His ability to see is swapped out for the smell of light detergent and something heady that might be Ryuki’s sweat.

“Hey, that’s dirty,” he protests after he pulls it off.

“No it’s not, I cleaned it this morning! In my washing machine, by the way. So it’s fine, right?”

“Not what I mean, genius.”

“Well, all’s fair in…” Ryuki’s voice fades out, then comes back in full force. “G-Gimme it back!”

Maybe I meant the other kind. “Nope, mine now.”

Ryuki kind of just leaps onto Date before he can slip the mask back on, just short of hanging from Date’s shoulders. Date holds it to his chest while Ryuki grabs for it and ends up clutching at his hands, his arms, one of his pecs through his coat somehow— he’s deviating more and more from Date’s chest the longer they’re at it. When laughing becomes too much, they sort of gasp against each other while they struggle for breath. Ryuki tries to suppress his last giggle by shoving his face between Date’s neck and shoulder. It leaves Date in want of a coat that doesn’t have such a damn high collar. Ryuki’s arm settle over his own in the end; it’s essentially a hug. Damn magnetism’s at it again.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" Date manages to get out between wheezes for breath.

Ryuki manages to choke out one final laugh for him. He lets go and weaves round Date, keeping his side pressed to him the entire time. Ryuki slides agonisingly slow against him, until he’s stood in front of Date.

"That depends," Ryuki sounds much slicker, eyes all aglow as he looks up at him. "Is it working?”

Wow, yeah, fuck this. Date throws his hands out to trap Ryuki against the nearest wall. The action throws him; while Ryuki seems excited, there’s also a panic there that’s unmistakable. He starts babbling.

“W-Was that too much? I’m sorry, I thought we were— I’m not, ah, great with social cues. I can misread them, and—”

“Misread this,” Date mutters just before he presses his lips to Ryuki’s.

None of this is going as smooth as Date would’ve liked. He still isn’t certain if this is what he or Ryuki wants, he still thinks the sex bed thing is fucking weird, it’s still cold out, he still feels like he could be knocked over with the smallest change in wind direction, and he’s still grabbing blindly at Ryuki to find some part of him he can hold onto.

But then Ryuki takes his hand, and puts it on his hip, and— oh. He has something grabbable after all. 

Ryuki’s kisses are fierce for someone who’s probably never done it before. There’s just the right amount of desperation to them, with enough of the message of ‘this is what I want and I’m taking it for myself now’. While Date thinks Ryuki can take and take away as he pleases, something stops Date from indulging as much as he’d like. He manages to pull back from Ryuki and move down, causing Ryuki’s next kiss to land to the left of his nose.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Date conveys how much he thinks so when he mouths this against Ryuki’s throat.

“I do,” Ryuki says, breathy but firm. His fingers wind in between Date’s by his waist. “I’m not that drunk. Totally fine with this turn of events, though I’m still kind of not believing it’s actually happening.”

Date grits out a sigh and pulls back for real this time. “It’s more like— can you wait a sec?”

Ryuki is already trying to guide him back to where he was. His smile twitches at the word ‘sec’ (is it because it almost sounds like ‘sex’? Is Ryuki okay after tonight? Date’s worried), but he complies.

“I feel the need to remind you,” Date tries his level best to look right at him when he says this, but it’s hard to with Ryuki looking back at him like he’s ready to be devoured at any moment, “that you may be actor who is well known to… many. You might even spend a significant amount of time in the public eye. Is this, err… wise?”

“That depends. Do you want to be my first scandal?" Ryuki breathes heavily over Date's mouth.

Oh, he has no right to sound like that. "I'm not having you throw your reputation— your livelihood down the drain just for some ass, Ryuki."

"Good thing that wouldn't happen. People have had their suspicions about me for months, and it’s not like either of us are married. I'm not exactly strapped for cash, either. And… it'd be over a little more than just that. Or at least, I'd like to think."

Alcohol is almost too effective at getting rid of Ryuki’s filter, it seems. Date feels Ryuki’s fingers wriggle between his. Tries to ignore it. Fails.

"You mean you don't want to get with this?"

"None of those words are what I said." Man, forget whatever Date said before; this guy can pout. "But really— the work thing’s not an issue. I can quit. Maybe I can become your housewife."

It's incredible how much one word turns a frankly terrible idea into one that has Date’s imagination firing on all cylinders. He's given an image of Ryuki in Date's apartment, wearing an apron and… that’s it, just the apron. Wait, no— Date gets the feeling Mizuki would have something to say against it. Date says, dazedly, "Mizuki might hate that. Plus, I thought you didn’t know how to cook."

"I can learn. When am I going to meet her?" Ryuki thinks he’s being sneaky while he uses one hand to undo the buttons on Date’s coat. The one-handedness makes him clumsy and obvious. Maybe he doesn’t care. "I've said a few times now that I'd like to see her."

Date catches this wayward hand with the one that isn’t occupied by Ryuki’s other one. He presses his wrist to his lips as he gazes back, murmuring, “I could be your housewife instead. I make a mean stew.”

He hears the catch in Ryuki's breath then, sees the strain of his lip between his teeth. Date wants it between his teeth instead. Good thing this is something he can actualise now. He dives forward to swallow whatever comment Ryuki was going to make about the whole thing next, but despite his efforts, Ryuki’s fighting through it.

“I’m— h-hah— sure there’s s-some discussion to be had about the near future—”

“You’re talking a lot,” Date speaks into his mouth. “Time to try harder.”

“—can’t we just— Date—”

Oh, now that’s a moan. Can he get another one like that and maybe get Ryuki’s hips to jump like they did before? Date wonders.

“I’m trying— can you— I’m ask— can we do this later?” Date’s mouth is occupied, he can’t answer. “This as in not— ah— that, we can keep doing that, but the other thing— what comes after— later? Please?”

Date takes his mouth off him. “I’ll call us a taxi.”

“God, please.”

(Date makes what he thinks is the obvious suggestion of going to Ryuki’s because he has the beds to spare and subsequently defile.

Ryuki stuffs his balaclava into Date’s open mouth and almost kicks him out of the open taxi with his wild, flailing laughter.)