Chapter Text
It was the middle of winter; endless, twilight-esque days of soft snow and quietude. Minutes were counted by the gathering inches of pearly dust, white banks climbing up only to be swept away hours later by loud machines that broke the silence. They came at six AM, noon, four PM, and nine -- it was the only way to know that time was truly passing.
Haise lived alone on East Ave. He was a tenant, residing in a third of a large house paid for by monthly deposits of five-hundred dollars. The owner was hardly ever seen anymore, not evening answering his phone. Haise had taken to simply slipping payments under the door.
East Ave was a road out of the way. It went to nowhere and it came from nowhere -- it wasn’t even positioned east to west. Houses dotted its sides at random intervals, porch lights faintly breaking the crepuscular shadows. Haise wasn’t sure how he had ended up so far out of the way, but he could never find the motivation to move closer to the city. Whenever he visited the forest of metal skyscrapers and rivers of people, unpleasant memories and déjà vu rose, threatening to swallow his mind.
Haise worked at a corner market a couple miles down the road, to which he walked every day except on the weekends. It paid well despite the little business it received. Haise was more often than not alone in the crowded store that sold everything from milk and bread to pens and hygiene products.
When he walked home during the winter he would take his time and watch as the snowflakes quickly drifting to the ground. Even when it was dark and a storm raged, he never hurried home.
Because who was waiting for him?
No one.
“Sasaki, you look exhausted,” Takizawa commented as he wiped at the counter. Outside, it was dark and a snowstorm was in full swing.
Haise sighed quietly as he slowly restocked the cereal boxes. The shop ‘Doves’ was a small corner market on the edge of town. It opened at six in the morning and closed at ten. Haise worked the evening shifts from two PM to closing with Takizawa. The two easily manned the store since very few people came in at those hours.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Haise admitted as he grabbed the next cereal box.
“Nightmares again?”
“Something like that.” He turned with a bright smile to his companion. “Don’t worry, it’s almost ten. I’ll get something to eat then head home.”
“Don’t you walk?” Takizawa looked pointedly at the snow raging outside. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night at my place or something? Because that’s one hell of a storm.”
Haise followed Takizawa’s look. “It’s not that bad.”
“You’re gonna get hit by a car someday.”
When everyone arrived, they found the street scattered with yellow and pink petals, like spring had passed through this one intersection, ignoring that the rest of the city was morphing into winter.
A young man with dark hair knelt at the edge of the road, clutching the stock of one sunflower still in tact, half its petals and seeds missing.
A woman walked out of the flower shop nearby, set a purple hyacinth in the middle of the road, and brought her hands together in prayer.
Haise mouthed the word, “Maybe,” before he could stop himself, but quickly covered it up with a smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nah, no one’s crazy enough to drive in this weather anyway. Besides, I live on East Ave, no one’ll be down there at this hour.”
Takizawa responded with a disbelieving look, but dropped the subject.
The two finished cleaning and closing up the store before heading out the back door. Takizawa waved Haise off as he climbed into his car. He drove towards the north part of town where most people lived, and Haise started towards his favorite place for dinner.
The bar, The Hanged Ghoul, scared a lot of people away with its name, but in truth it was a cozy place where anyone could stumble in and order a drink without question. They also served delicious hamburgers that Haise found positively irresistible.
Haise hunched his head against the wind, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, but nothing he did barred the cold that pierced his clothes.
When he arrived, he blinked snow from his eyes before opening the door, slipping into the warm relief of the bar. He breathed the tension from his shoulders and hurried over to a back booth where he was relatively out of the line of sight of the other people there.
Other people being all of three.
Haise pulled his coat off his shoulders and set it to the side, rubbing his chilled hands together before folding them in front of him and waiting to be noticed by a waiter.
Someone new came to his table this time, a tall man with chestnut hair, dark glasses, and a glowering expression, as if he really didn’t want to be here right now. Haise didn’t blame him, it was almost eleven at night.
“What can I get you?” the man droned robotically and Haise felt bad, like he was the inconvenience to the man’s existence.
“I, uh, just the hamburger please. And the, ah, hot chocolate, I guess.”
The man stared down his nose at Haise with a judgemental look. “Right.” With that, he turned on his heel and stalked to the back kitchen.
Haise sighed and let his head drop slightly. Everything had become heavier recently, as if some invisible weight had settled across his back.
He sat like that for about ten minutes before his food arrived. This time, a familiar face carried the plate and mug of steaming hot cocoa over.
“Hey, Touka,” Haise said with a smile.
The woman returned the smile as she set the food down and slid into the seat opposite him. “Sorry if Nishio left a sour taste in your mouth, or something, he’s new and doesn’t really like it here.”
“Yeah,” Haise agreed, feeling himself relax with the comforting company. “This town is pretty out of the way, I can’t imagine anyone being happy about ending up here against their will.”
“You were the same, once.”
“I got over it. I don’t think he will.”
Touka laughed. “Fair enough. He’s a pain to work with, too.”
“Seems like it. I don’t think I’ll tip him.”
They laughed together before Haise started eating.
“So how was work?” Touka inquired.
Haise shrugged. “Slow, I guess. It was snowing so not a lot of people were out and about.”
“Same for here. This is our busiest right now, can you believe it?”
“Yes.”
Touka threw a napkin at him.
“By the way, I have a new book for you. Wait here.” She jumped from her seat and hurried to the back room. Haise resumed eating his burger -- which was just as delicious as always -- and waited. When Touka returned, she had clutched in her hands a thick book.
“Which one’s this?” Haise asked.
“‘Monochrome Rainbow’,” she read off, handing him the work. “A series of short stories, by the same author who wrote your favorite, ‘The Black Goat’s Egg’.”
“Really? I didn’t know she had other works,” Haise said with contented surprise.
A fierce wind knocked against the side of the building, rattling some paintings hanging on the wall beside them. Touka stared at them as they shook, and Haise in turn stared at her.
“Say…” he began slowly, but was cut off by a commotion from the kitchen.
Touka tch-ed and got to her feet. “What is it now,” she snapped, hurrying to the back room where multiple voices were shouting over the clashing of pots and pans.
Haise chuckled into his hot chocolate.
About and hour later he was the last customer and Nishio was giving him glares across the room where he was wiping down tables. Touka had reemerged after settling an argument between Nishio and her brother, Ayato, over some burned cheese, and now was organizing the liquor behind the bar.
Haise had since finished eating and had contented himself to reading ‘Monochrome Rainbow’, but he was getting the distinct feeling from everyone, save Touk, that it was time for him to leave.
Checking the time -- 12:02 AM -- he stood, tucked the book into his jacket, and moved towards the door.
“Leaving so soon?” Touka called.
He forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s late and I have to walk home still. Don’t worry, I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
This earned another glower from Nishio and Ayato turning away with the familiar Kirishima tch.
Hiking his hood over his head, Haise hunched his shoulders against the cold and started along East Ave.
The wind had died down, allowing the snow to flurry down in thick blankets, coating the world in a freezing icing. The plows hadn’t been through since nine PM and wouldn’t come through again until six in the morning, so the snow would have plenty of time to build up and settle itself alongside the empty road.
Once he was out of sight of the city streetlights, he fumbled in his pocket to pull out a small flashlight. It barely illuminated a couple feet in front of him, but it was better than nothing on nights like these where the night sky shed none of its light.
He was about to check the time on his phone, but upon pulling it out he found it had run out of battery -- hours ago, probably. Sighing, he guessed he was almost home, and continued trekking on.
A couple minutes later the wind picked up again, and Haise paused to guard himself against the piercing chill. Only the faint, yellow lights ahead gave him motivation to keep trudging through the calf-deep snow.
…Lights?
He hadn’t left any lights on when he had headed to work.
He picked up the pace and covered the remaining meters in a matter of minutes, hurrying up the porch steps and throwing himself through the door and onto the first landing.
Sure enough, the first floor flat door that was so commonly dark had a warm light leaking out along with a heavy scent of cinnamon and cookie batter.
Haise hovered in front of the door, fingers gripping the edges of his coat. Should he say something? It was nearly one in the morning, but he hadn’t seen his landlord in years, and it only seemed appropriate to greet him, right?
He took a deep breath, reminded himself that it was almost one in the morning, and that his landlord, even if he was also awake, wouldn’t appreciate a greeting from a stranger (even if Haise was the only tenant in the house).
Climbing the stairs to the second floor flat, Haise aimed the flashlight at the lock as he searched his pocket for his key, fingers groping nothing but fabric and lint.
Shit.
He leaned his head against the door, wondering where the key could’ve fallen between here and the bar.
Virtually anywhere, basically.
Swallowing, Haise decided he would be visiting his landlord tonight -- this morning? -- anyway.
Descending the stairs, he stopped once more in front of the door, took a deep breath, and was about to knock when a violent crash resonated from within.
“Goddammit, Saiko!” a man cursed. There was a mumbled reply before he continued, “I said put the fucking egg whites with the butter, not the freaking flour! Fuck! It’s ruined!”
“Ah, hey, Shirazu, you’re being a little - ”
“Look, look at it, Tooru! Ruined!”
There was another bang and Haise decided it was time to interrupt. He summoned false confidence and rapped on the door, immediately silencing the conversation beyond.
There was a period of awkward silence before a lock turned and young, dark skinned man opened it up, a medical eyepatch covering his left eye. “C-can I help you?” he stammered, keeping the door only cracked open enough so that all Haise could see was the boy and nothing more.
“I, uh, I’m Haise Sasaki, the tenant upstairs?” He paused. “I, uh, lost my key. Would the landlord possibly have another one?”
“Ah, possibly.” He laughed. “The, um, landlord is a little busy, but this should be fine. Why don’t you come in? It’s cold out here.” He stepped back, letting out a flood of warmth and light, and Haise gladly stepped inside.
The room wasn’t quite what he had been expecting -- he hadn’t known what he was expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been the tatami flooring and paperwalls decorated in cherryblossoms and gold leaf, the medieval rugs hanging on the walls and bronze candelabra, the clay mugs sitting among the remnants of bagels on a coffee table in front of a huge TV, various game controllers scattered across the floor, or the strangely-modern kitchen around the corner.
An oranged hair, punk-ish looking kid was viciously stirring something in a bowl in said kitchen while a small, dark-haired girl sat on the floor absorbed in a PSP, hair split unevenly into long pigtails.
“Do you, ah, want a seat?” the dark skinned man inquired, gesturing to a chair near the kitchen. Haise took it awkwardly, not wanting to impede on the kitchen that looked like the embodiment of “rainy with a chance of meatballs” (there was even sauce on the ceiling).
“Fuck cinnamon cookies, fuck ‘em,” the punk snarled, all but throwing the spoon into the sink. He looked up at Haise and snapped, “Who’s this?”
“The tenant from upstairs,” the first explained. “He got locked out, I’m gonna go get - ”
“Yoshisan is busy though,” the girl on the floor droned.
“Don’t call him ‘Yoshisan’! It’s creepy!” the punk snapped.
“Shirazu, please calm down,” the first pleaded.
“These cookies are pissing me off, Tooru!” Shirazu exclaimed angrily. He threw his finger at the girl. “And it’s all Saiko’s fault!”
“Noooo it’s noooot,” Saiko sighed.
Tooru turned an apologetic smile to Haise. “I’ll be right back.” With that, he turned and hurried down a darkened hall.
“So, what were you guys trying to make?” Haise decided to inquire.
Shirazu turned a skeptical look on him before softening. “Cinnamon cookies, the boss’ favorite. He works hard so we thought we’d try to do something for him.”
“Didn’t turn out so well,” Saiko chuckled quietly, earning a flick of batter to the face.
“He does stuff other than… be a landlord?” Haise asked dumbly.
Saiko and Shirazu exchanged hesitant looks.
“Well! Time for me to go to bed, goodnight, nice meeting you!” Saiko said cheerfully, jumping to her feet and fleeing down the hall, Shirazu shouting, “Wait!” to no avail.
After a moment of silence, Haise offered, “You don’t have to tell me if it’s secretive.”
Shirazu fell into one of the kitchen chairs, running a hand through his hair. “Eh, it’s not like that.”
“But it is like that,” Haise corrected.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess?” Shirazu shrugged. “It’s whatever.”
“What’s your relationship with him, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Christ look at the time!” Shirazu exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “I’ve got shit to do at five, I gotta get to sleep!” He looked around the messy table before his eyes landed on Haise. “I’ll go check on Tooru, but hope you don’t mind waiting around a little longer?”
He is… very obviously trying to dodge the subject here, Haise thought, amused. He smiled. “No worries, I don’t really have anywhere to be tomorrow morning.”
“Awesome! Good night then, nice meeting you.” Shirazu waved -- the punk vibe he gave off was definitely contradictory to his personality -- and headed down the same hallway as Saiko.
Alone, Haise sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He tried to recall what the landlord was like based on the one time he had ever actually met him. The man had been nice, Haise remembered, but honestly Haise could barely recall anything specific. He was also sure he had never heard of Shirazu, Saiko, and Tooru living here before, either.
To distract himself from the circling thoughts, Haise turned his attention to the messy kitchen.
‘Messy’ was the wrong word. It was disastrous, ruinous, catastrophic even. Dirty pots and pans were everywhere, food stained the table, walls, and ceiling. The grill and stove were charred and the sink was overflowing with dishes. Flour and sugar -- prominently, anyway -- covered the counters like snow, their whiteness broken by stains of vanilla extract and dusted with cinnamon.
“Wow,” he breathed, wondering how these people managed to live here.
Unable to help himself, he got to his feet and started removing the dishes from the sink, stacking them to the side, draining the dirty water, and refilling it with warm, soapy water. He then started washing them, because he honestly had nothing else to do and he may as well repay the kindness he had been shown (if it really counted as kindness, thought he was glad he didn’t have to spend the night on the stairs).
Once the basic dishes were done, he turned to the cooking utensils and bowls Shirazu and Saiko had been using. The batter was definitely beyond saving (just looking at it made Haise’s eyes water), so he dumped it out and scrubbed the bowl clean.
With most of the dishes done, he turned his attention to sweeping the dunes of flour, sugar, and other such things into a new trash bag before turning his attention to the egg and butter crusted across the counters. It took him about twenty minutes to clean just that, but he was satisfied with the work, and the kitchen definitely looked much better.
“Wow, haven’t seen the kitchen this clean in years,” a voice from Haise’s right said casually. He jumped and spun to find -
He looked down to see a man -- the one who had been taking care of him? -- rubbing his eyes, sunflower hair a haphazard disaster.
His skin was sun kissed, his sleepy eyes like melted chocolate, and there was a light scattering of freckles across his cheeks, nose, and shoulders.
“Ha, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Hideyoshi Nagachika laughed, stepping forward. He was dressed in sweatpants and a white tee splattered with kaleidoscopic paint. He tucked a strand of bright hair behind one ear as he took a seat at the clear table.
“I’m, ah, I’m sorry about cleaning your kitchen without permission!” Haise hurriedly apologised.
Hideyoshi only laughed more. “Do I look like I’m complaining? Really, those kids can’t take care of themselves and I can’t take care of them so this place is constantly a wreck. This is definitely a sight for sore eyes.”
“Well, ah, it was making my eyes sore too, so glad I could help,” Haise replied, relieved Hideyoshi wasn’t mad.
“So Mutsuki told me you lost your key? That sucks, in the middle of winter, too.”
Haise took a seat opposite Hideyoshi. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize! In fact, I should be the one apologizing.”
“…Why?”
He grinned. “Because I don’t have a spare!”
Haise stared at him hard. “You… don’t have a spare… for the person you’re renting out space too…”
“Yup!”
There was a long period of silence, Hideyoshi grinning innocently, before Haise asked, “So what am I going to do?”
“Depends on where this takes us.”
“Where what - ?” Haise starts, but is abruptly cut off by Hideyoshi reaching across the table, gripping the front of Haise’s shirt, and pulling him forward so their lips met in intense heat and an indiscernible passion.
He closed the distance, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. The other’s lips were wet and he tasted salt. Tears. His free hand creeped forward and gripped the other’s shirt as he continued the kiss, urging it deeper, and the other’s mouth opened to him. He felt a hand caressing his cheek and the other left his hand to move to his back.
Haise gasped and pulled away, searching Hideyoshi’s face for answers, concerned when he found the same surprise on the other’s face as on his own.
A desperate longing sparked like a match in his stomach, a fire pooling there and climbing up his throat and into his head. Haise watched in slow motion as Hideyoshi leaned forward, his hand reaching to hover over Haise’s neck -
Haise wasn’t sure who started the kiss again. All he knew was that hands were touching skin and he could taste Hideyoshi’s tongue and holy shit he was kissing his landlord.
“Wait, wait,” he stammered, pulling away again. “Hideyoshi I can’t - ”
“Hide, call me Hide.”
“Hi… Hide.” Anything else Haise was going to say was lost with the feeling that Hide felt way too familiar on his lips.
They’re lips fit too perfectly together.
They’re hands seemed to know where to roam.
It was all too familiar.
“You good over there, Sasaki?” Takizawa asked as he hefted a box from the floor onto the counter.
Haise, who stood with his elbows on the counter and his head in his hands, shrugged.
“Did something happen? Nightmares again?”
Haise shook his head.
“Then what’s going on?”
Haise remained quiet for a moment longer before muttering, “I slept with my landlord.”
“You did what?!”