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A crush.
On his friend.
Gah. It always gets his heart racing.
Most of Gokuraku’s life centred around his family, his kingdom, and his grudge spanning a decade’s worth against Bakugami. All thoughts of romance were about as likely as Gokuraku giving up his plan to deck them: not in a million years, not in however long a Majik could possibly live for—the bastard pig would get it. Or really, fist to all asshole bastard Majik’s faces for that matter. That was all.
But things happened. Things like Ichi appearing, hearing Gokuraku out and saying he’d help him, and that he found it heartening to entrust his life to him so he wanted him to be his friend. A friend, someone Gokuraku never had. He’d only ever known elder sister, mother, and father—familiar things he could never forget.
But now he knew Ichi.
Agh, for when Ichi peers up at him all sparkly eyed.
Agh, for how he says his name, all joyful and happy!
Agh, because the thought of him is like that!
Agh, agh, agh. Aaaagh!!!
Gokuraku couldn’t take it.
………..
The sky yawns a lazy blue is its mood today, and clouds drift off in the distance: faint, small, wispy. A few birds whistle their tune and as if summoned the hummingbirds move like darts to the freshly sprouted blooms and striking yellow bees follow.
Spring calm has finally arrived.
Gokuraku sits on a meadow where flowers flank plentifully around him. A gust sends the dandelions off, they glide along the skies before landing, graceful. Light. Gokuraku doesn’t mind if they catch on his clothes and hang off the tips of his hair. They’re easy to brush off. Easy enough to ignore as well.
A daisy he picked up rests in one hand. He twirls at the stem before holding it close to his nose—inhaling over the daisy’s pistil. Smells like..fresh flowers, he thinks. Duh. What else would it smell like?
Back in Kagami, meeting with Richia in flower fields was common. He felt obligated as her younger brother to help pick flowers for her handmade crowns—going as far as grabbing the unique ones off of cliffs. Gokuraku imagines Richia welcoming him back with a humongous garland. I may not have the talent for invention like you but atleast, I can give it my best! she might say. His lips curl up at the thought. But it’s short-lived, before a loud sigh worms its way out of him. He does miss her. But she isn’t quite why he’s in the fields.
He’s there to mope.
With only the flowers, occasional insects and animals to serve as his witness, Gokuraku must begin the trial: “Does Icchan like me?”
The court is now in session.
"He likes me." A petal drops. "He doesn't like me." Pluck. "Icchan is indecisive." Gokuraku pauses, leaning closer as though a revelation has been made. "Icchan's been crushin' back this entire time?!"
Two petals swoop down at the same time. Coincidentally, a hummingbird is duking it out with a bee on who gets to drain a fresh daisy from behind Gokuraku. There. The last petal that stands. Gokuraku scrutinizes it with such intensity that it falls off all on its own. He chucks the petalless daisy over his shoulder, an anguished groan accompanying it, right as the stem collides between the hummingbird and the bee. The bird flies off in terror, while the insect spitefully aims its stinger at Gokuraku but is thwarted by a flick from his metallic fingers.
“I got no time for this. Just buzz off will you?”
And it does.
That’s the second time he scared off the wildlife.
That also makes three daisies sacrificed.
The verdict: maybe he should get another flower?
Desscaras watches from behind a tree. She’s being responsible and checking in on the kids in case something happens. But that’s also just a convenient excuse she told Togeice to slack off.
"What's he doing?" She asks seemingly no one. Plenty of Majiks under Desscaras’s ownership had something cool, or convenient to put to good use, in this case, she’s making use of one that can eavesdrop. She shakes her head at the gathered intel. "Why not just tell him? Or is this some dudes—mutt to mutt—only thing? We sure this prince isn’t some blushing maiden in disguise?"
As if in response, Gokuraku throws down another poor daisy and the intel gathering Majik tells her that he's still whining about his love life.
Desscaras can’t help a pleading look at the skies.
(He’s young and in the process of learning, Iskander supplies. You were pretty something back in your day as well, Desscaras. Her other Majiks start chiming in agreement. Desscaras tells them to zip it.)
“So hopeless,” Desscaras sighs, taking her leave to find a peaceful spot to nap. “I guess it’s a good thing they have each other to be hopeless with.”
………………
Ichi is on the hunt for wild, but very much alive things. He sought proper advice from the Witches that know it best for this.
DON’T! Give Gokuraku a dead animal. He will get the wrong idea. He might assume he was being cursed, according to a glowering Togeice.
DO! Give him harmless things that won’t be misinterpreted like flowers, but especially flowers, said Mirsam. She added a cryptic, Trust me on this one, Ichy-Peachy. He’ll be all up in your arms.
PLEASE! No PDA in front of me once you get together. Desscaras quipped without contributing much else.
G-GOOD LUCK! I’ll be cheering you on, Kumugi offered passionately.
MEH, this isn’t my kinda thing but he’d have to be braindead to not get the message. commented Love Joe.
The jury’s verdict.
No flinging dead bodies to confess your feelings allowed.
(Ichi has thrown dead rabbits at the villagers before as celebration gifts.)
A straw basket in hand, the flowers remain tucked away, awaiting the arrival of the confession. Ichi raises his fingers to recount Togeice’s wisdom:
Gladiolus for courage.
Sunflowers for happiness.
Red roses, not for friendship, but love.
The daisies, forget-me-nots and tulips signalling their beginning with the hope it would blossom into something more and persist—everlasting love. Togeice would be proud of all that he’s learned.
Wandering the meadows, he sees someone slouched against a tree. A sidebraid, intricate cornrows weaved into bundles and a white dress laced with fancy golds.
Desscaras.
Ichi gets closer. She might’ve fainted again and that wouldn’t be good. He drops down to his knees, sees her lightly snoring away and he’s glad.
For a second, that is.
Ichi squints in judgement. Was she pretending to get away from her duties? Responsibility and Desscaras were like a light switch; walk into the room and it’s turned on but the moment you’re out you just never know when she turns it off.
Ichi takes a page from Togeice’s book: Don’t be afraid to give trash (mostly Desscaras) what they deserve. And he’s doing just that—skepticism woven all over his face. Rightfully so.
An idea flashes. The flowers for Gokuraku held meanings that also applied to family. Ichi rummages through his basket, quietly placing a few forget-me-nots next to her.
“Because we’re family, I’ll never forget you,” Ichi whispers. “Rest well, Desscaras.”
……………..
Her nap was short-lived, a mere ten minutes of shut eye when she’d hoped for at least half an hour.
Hearing footsteps, Desscaras decided to stay. Listening in. Not missing a single word. If it were someone–something—suspicious, she would deal with them. Because the-peerless-gorgeous-beyond-talented-mistress-Desscaras rids the world of all evil! But also, worth noting: there was nothing else to do.
(Try a career change as a hitman instead. She ignores the Majik, mostly, because it’s that annoying one that keeps trying to force their OOC bullshit on her.)
When her eyes open, Ichi is gone. But his gift remains and so do his words.
Desscaras doesn't move, not right away. Even an action packed Witch like her needs a moment to themselves. To process. She is filing Ichi's sentiments away in a special compartment in her heart. Somewhere that would never fade for as long as she breathed.
She carefully gathers the bundle of forget-me-nots and a smile tugs at her. Desscaras would ensure they’re taken care of. Maybe ask Togeice for advice.
“I hope you confess when Gokuraku is actually awake,” she says like a prayer.
They needed all the luck they could get.
……………….
They end up meeting by accident.
It’s inevitable considering Gokuraku left a trail of pluck and stems and occasional groans.
“Gokuraku?” Ichi calls out, and Gokuraku surreptitiously gets rid of the flower in his hand. He can't be caught flower-handed now. Why is Icchan here?
Ichi extends the basket. It’s secured with two hands like he’s transporting something highly valuable.
“This is for you.”
Gokuraku takes it, and as he does, he thinks of home. Of fields. Of his sister. He would be the flower picker and she would be the seamstress that crafted them into wreaths worthy of praise. A smile always on her face as she did. Gokuraku is no longer home but this feels the closest to it. Gratitude shines in his eyes and makes the teeth in his extra wide grin seem more blindingly whiter than usual.
Thump. Ichi's chest responds. He presses a hand to it as though he could shush it, a siren that'll announce his feelings. Gokuraku is always so handsome, he thinks more often than not these days.
"Thanks Icchan. But, what's the occasion though?"
Stillness settles between them. Ichi’s heart blares in his ears and in the sinews of his body. It’s easy to get swept up by the tide, and say something you’ll regret so he grounds himself. Breathing in much needed air.
I like you, he says in his mind first for practice. I like you as more than a friend—
A large gust of wind, suddenly, blows up.
It sends the flowers and the basket sheltering them, up into the air.
……
One second ago, Gokuraku was the picture of patience and smiles. Add five more seconds, he's become live footage of a demon incarnate; howling into the ominous wind with anger crackling over his features.
"No you don’t, dammit! That was Icchan’s gift! Get back here!” Gokuraku readies an arm, mere inches away., close. Almost got it! he thinks. The wind, however, throws another curveball. It swoops the basket of fleeting flowers even higher up until it looks like a dot in the skies.
They both share matching looks of disbelief.
Logically, the basket can be replaced. It’s a dime a dozen and Natali always has them in stock. Even the Association has a gigantic inventory full of them. They’re what trees are to a forest but to Witches—everywhere.
But to Ichi and Gokuraku who were in the middle of a confession, the logic is effectively swept under the rug.
They make haste. Ichi clambers onto Gokuraku’s back, pointing towards the sky like he’s commanding his most trusted stallion.
"Go!"
Gokuraku steers himself, recharged by the power of love and stupidity only they could share. He could do anything. Even fly. Thank god, his augmentations were built for that otherwise he’d be hopping up and down like this was all just fun and games. No sire, this isn’t a game. To him, it’s all or nothing for his Ichi!
Ride or die time!
The weather forecast mentioned windiness with a firm warning to stay indoors. In case of a tornado. And to expect some highly unusual wind currents. Mirsam really should’ve told them about it because even her prophecy had shown that nasty sucker in action. But where would the fun be in that? This is a classic case of trusting the process. Even if a tornado must get involved.
As Gokuraku and Ichi managed halfway, the flames of hope and determination burning inside of them—the wind changed its course. Flinging the basket back downwards. The flowers it stole included.
Gokuraku’s nose takes the brunt of thick straw. "D’oof!" If not for the absurdity of the situation, he might’ve given props for the craftsmanship, it's highly durable. Flowers punch at Ichi’s face and he snorts from grass up his nose.
The wind amps it up until they’re sprawled out on the ground like swatted flies. When it stops, there’s just small curling winds and petals slowly making their way up. A windblown moment where flower petals are rising higher and higher. Mini flower tornados? Who knows.
A shared moment of what-in-the-heck-was-that-does-wind-even-work-like-that hangs between them, until Ichi sneezes. One. Two. Three. Incredibly pink petals flutter out each nostril.
Gokuraku mouths an “O."
Then he sneezes. A blue petal joining Ichi’s pink ones in the air.
They both lose it.
It’s a whirlwind of scattering petals, laughter and bodies. Gokuraku and Ichi are just hanging out and getting covered in flowers but having the time of their lives. The wind finally lets up and both sigh in relief. A chance to take a proper look at themselves finally. They are utterly covered in petals, grass and bits of soil—they might as well be part plant now.
(In Gokuraku’s case, he’s part augmentation, human and plant.)
Ichi’s hair has always been wild with spikes and the flowers don’t detract from that, adding to it. There’s something about him having them in his hair that makes Gokuraku think of home again; where going to flower fields with Richia was often, and going back to his dwelling of choice (like caves), he’d have her handmade wreath by his side so he could take it with him beyond.
Home would always be by his side, those crowns reminded him. If home is a choice Gokuraku could make, then home is like right now, watching the boy he likes so much smiling brilliantly and thinking he might try making a flower crown for him too. Daisies could work for their contrast, so could tulips, and the brightest red roses he could find. He might not have his sister’s touch, but he’d give it his best shot. (Richia would be so proud.)
Gokuraku inches forwards until there’s a few centimetres between them to breathe. Ichi’s eyes widen in surprise, but the trust in him tells him it's okay. So he listens. He’s a good listener, all things considered since he's still alive after years in the wild with the scars to show for it. His heart beats wildly in his ears, and the swallowing of his own throat is loud, but the ever slight clink! from Gokuraku’s armoured arm is even louder.
They are closer than normal. His body involuntarily tenses at the knowledge.
Gokuraku is much bigger. A mammoth even as he leans down, he could crush and suffocate Ichi to death—it wouldn’t take much effort on his part. But here’s the part that Ichi always liked about Gokuraku: he’s a gentle guy. His much stronger hands are lighter than a feather as they pluck away at stray daisy petals in his hair. And though Ichi has seen Gokuraku’s eyes flash akin to a predator’s in the past, that had been for the sake of his family’s safety—a desperation to want to protect what mattered most to him. Now, and since they began to journey together, Gokuraku’s eyes and his wide toothed smiles were warm: heartfelt.
Perhaps, it’s the blues in him that make Ichi instinctually feel calm. But that doesn’t quite explain why his cheeks are burning red. He raises a hand to shield his heart, but it feels pointless when it’s like it’ll burst out. His mouth is open but the words refuse to come. He tries to coax them out with his mind’s eye; hoping vision translates to reality, but it doesn’t. He’s a deer in headlights.
Gokuraku watches for a long second.
His thought process originally was I should help Icchan get the flowers, leaves and grass off. Now his thinking pauses, instead drawn to the blush on Ichi’s face mirroring the colour of his eyes, and the way his mouth lay ajar, and Gokuraku sees his cute little white teeth. His gloved hands glow pink. Unless daisies come in that shade, it’s not the flowers that changed Ichi’s skin colour. He’s also aware of the fact that Ichi doesn’t have any allergies. Gokuraku considers the possibility of himself having a strange ailment because suddenly, there’s weakness in his knees and he feels like he might drop—and die on the spot.
Stay calm, he reminds himself, forces a smile. Gotta keep it cool. Cooler than cool. Cooler than the blues. On me. Cool is…me.
Gasps!
Ichi’s the one that comes closer this time. Leaning on his tippy toes, Gokuraku must suppress the urge to coo at how cute he is for doing that. The effort of trying to meet Gokuraku’s towering height is worth a solid eleven out of ten. Seven stars surpassing five. Normally, Gokuraku would lower himself if it could help him out. What Ichi needs he wants to help. But emphasis on “normally.”
“Um, you had that….there…” Ichi says with a handful of petals. He does it again, tipping forward and Gokuraku sees in greater detail how his eyes match his still there blush. Ichi averts his eyes. Self-consciousness making him scratch at a cheek before shyly looking back.
Wow. It sure is getting harder to breathe.
Gokuraku’s current thought process is now a mess.
Aaah! Aaaaaah!! Aaaaaaaaaahh!!! (Note: the ability to form words is disabled.)
Ichi sees the slight swaying of the taller’s figure, but it’s not until he hears knees falling to grass that he reacts. Ichi tries to hold onto him believing Gokuraku is unwell.
And this is where Ichi remembers it in his much smaller limbs—Gokuraku is a heavy dude. He’s a giant and that translates to the mass he struggles to uphold because it caught him off guard. Gokuraku is a friend not a grizzly bear oozing with killing intent so using the trusty one-shot shoulder throw is out of the question. More out of the question is letting go. If this is a sinking ship, they'll go down together.
Gokuraku’s heart beats frantically from the joyous wonders of young love. It momentarily stunned him as it has in the past, but critical thinking is pumping the blood back into his brain and his neurons are giving a much needed shoutout.
DON’T LET ICCHAN GET HURT!
At the sound of those sirens, his arms wrap around Ichi like chains and he turns his body so that he’s the anchor that takes the brunt of the fall.
Crunch.
Through years of fortifying his body, that’s nothing to Gokuraku. Maybe the crystal graft on his back feels a little itchy, Ichi’s hair tickles his mouth—and his heart is back to freaking.
OH GOD HE’S CLOSER THAN BEFORE NOW!
With that said, it’'s preferable to wires popping out of his body again. Very much so.
But to Ichi, a fall is a fall and the thought of him getting hurt for his sake made the crunch sound akin to an explosion going off. His ears ring with panic. With hands to either side of Gokuraku’s face, Ichi holds his head in place like it might fall off.
“Are you—”
“—hurt?!”
Gokuraku blinks. Seeing the worry in Ichi’s eyes, hearing the slight hitch and gulp in his voice like he’d done something bad. Senses the stiffness in his body like it might cave in itself. Ichi is smaller but incredibly tough in his own ways. But right now, he looked so vulnerable. Right now, he looked too…
Gokuraku’s chest warms. Eyes softening up. His hands, he makes sure, are gentle as they move to Ichi’s face and cradle it. Wanting to lighten up the mood, he gives Ichi’s cheeks a bit of a squish, they compress out like mochi. Worry is replaced with confusion and a hand patting at Gokuraku’s own to not go overboard.
“S’okay. I’m pretty strong, remember?” He lets out a little laugh. He can’t say it out loud, but he's happy Ichi is giving him a special kind of attention. It sounds weird to say ‘your worry for me fills me with joy.’ (If Desscaras heard that, she might send Gokuraku six feet under.)
Ichi deflates overtop but hugs Gokuraku with all his might. He hears the beating of his heart. He feels the broadness of his chest, the weight of his arms around him and the smell of the ground. It’s steady, but there’s the small lift from his breathing, it pushes up and lets Ichi know Gokuraku is alive.
The fall reminded Ichi of Bakugami’s trial and how close it had all been. For one terrifying moment, he thought, if Gokuraku got hurt again and was in excruciating pain—he really doesn’t like the thought of it.
“Icchan?” Gokuraku asks, worried that he’s gone quiet. “Rather than me, I’m just glad you’re okay.”
A lot of things come naturally out of necessity or by the need of the moment. So Ichi’s instincts tell him to get closer, close enough you can show how much he means to you, so close that maybe it’s hard to breathe.
So he does.
Lips to Gokuraku’s own.
It’s clumsy because it’s so abrupt but it felt right. It felt like he had to do it. Ichi lives day by day, moment to moment, so at that precise time he hoped Gokuraku would come to know of these feelings he’d long held. He wants to try understanding them more. Taking it one step at a time. If possible, accumulate it to one day, each, with Gokuraku, for however long he’s allowed.
Ah, so the feeling is mutual, Gokuraku thinks, hand touching Ichi's cheek and another situated on the small of his back, soothing away at the tension. Icchan got really worked up over me, Gokuraku thinks, I’m on his mind plenty. He smiles at that. Thanks Icchan, I like you too.
They lay there, in the afterglow of their first kiss, and realizations.
Gokuraku spots a petal he missed and plucks it from Ichi’s head. He’s still thinking of that flower crown he wants to make for Ichi. His hands card through black hair, intending to weed out the remnants. There's tiny bits of grass and this bit of growing fondness that he’s allowed to touch Ichi’s hair like this.
They both just rolled around on soil and foliage.
They both also probably need a bath when they get back.
But it was lots and lots of fun!
Gokuraku’s lips tingle, planting a kiss near the fringe of Ichi’s head. Ichi peers up at him, an innocent curiosity in his gaze and a question on the tip of his tongue. And Gokuraku immediately understands.
“When we kiss, certain angles work better than others. Because you’re so close I couldn’t resist,” he says. Bumping their foreheads together, Gokuraku gets a clearer look into Ichi’s eyes that are fixated intently on his own. He’s taken aback when Ichi pecks at his nose. Laughs a little. Laughs a little harder when Ichi does it again but in quick succession. Was he doing it to match the number of freckles he sees?
Gokuraku launches his own mini counterattack on Ichi’s forehead, and hears the most adorable little sounds he’ll engrave in his heart: Ichi’s giggles.
It’s subtle but it’s thanks to being so close he feels the itty-bitty shake from his shoulders. It’s like all of Ichi is made of laughing happiness.
Precious. He is too precious. Gokuraku can’t help sighing, longingly.
He’s overjoyed that they could spend time together like this. Over the moon that he’s not alone in acting like a goof around his special someone. For good measure, Gokuraku presses the loudest, most obnoxious kiss ever. He needed to prove he’s the champion of being sappy.
But Ichi isn’t one to back down from a challenge.