Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Shinya stared at the bulletin board, his eyes trying — but failing — to avoid the poster left there as a courtesy to his family. A poster of his older brother: a photo that was cropped and five simple words in “bold.” The ‘ have you seen him’ had faded along with the rest of the image; UV rays had not been kind in the past five years. There was debate of taking it down, letting it live inside of a trash can… But that debate only echoed in Shinya’s head. Sometimes, when passing by, he would contemplate removing it from the board, because it was no longer news . His brother wasn’t dead — least not in the legal sense — but he might as well have been. There were only so many places they hadn’t searched.

A weight pressed onto Shinya, causing him to stumble forward. With a grumble, Shinya spoke, removing the arm that was wrapped around his shoulder. “What do you want, Hyousuke?”

Ryuzaki Hyousuke laughed. “Oh nothing,” he said in a sing-song voice. He didn’t dare to use more physical language, instead standing tall next to Shinya. “Me and the others were debating if we should go to karaoke — wanna go?” And yet he practically fell onto Shinya, using the junior as a crutch. The way that any strong wind would topple him onto the other, like a domino effect.

“I’m… Not interested.” 

“Oh come on . This bulletin board always makes you uninterested.” He twirled a lock of his shoulder length hair. “Would it kill you to give it a rest?”

For a brief moment, Shinya glared at Hyousuke, but those harsh eyes failed to hold an edge for long enough. It softened and drifted back to the poster. It considered it’s friends words, knowing that he was probably right…

But some sentimental part of him didn’t want to let go.

“I’m going home,” he said.  

As he walked away, towards the the cubbyholes that held his outside shoes and scarf, he half expected Hyousuke to call out after him. To the point that Shinya shot a glance back towards his senior. And in his hand was the missing poster, seconds away from being crumpled and thrown out. 

Shinya smiled.

The brisk November air warned Shinya to stay on his path.

Occasionally he would wander into parks, hoping that if he sat long enough in the places he and his brother frequented as children, he would return. But the November winds told him to just go home, it wasn’t worth it this time. So he did so, stopping only to answer a text that he assumed was from his mother.

It wasn’t.

Hyousuke: What’s your address again?

Shinya: why

Hyousuke: Don’t be so cold!! 

Shinya: don’t you have karaoke

By pure happenstance, Shinya rested by the gate of the one park that was on his way.

Hyousuke: I can do both no problem! 

With a sigh, Shinya texted his address to Hyousuke and continued his walk.

Oh well , he thought to himself, wasn’t like I was doing much at home.

The door to his house was unlocked.

Locking it as he entered, Shinya called out that he was home, assuming his mom came home from a shift and simply forgot. But she wasn’t downstairs at all. So he called out again, calling her name, hoping the fact the door was unlocked didn’t mean trouble.

There was no response. 

Shinya furrowed his brow. Heading towards the stairs, he called out again, this time being greeted by a door swinging opening. Did his mom just forget? She had to be fine, right? “You uh, left the door unlocked.”

In hindsight, Shinya shouldn’t have been so calm about the door being unlocked. Because it almost always meant trouble. Sure, who would’ve broken into his house and stayed? That was unreasonable — but in the case it was a recent breaking and entering… That was the scary part.

But it wasn’t a burglar, and honestly? A part of Shinya wished it was.

“Sorry about that, must’ve slipped my mind.”

Gripping the ledge and looking directly down at Shinya was someone that looked exactly like his brother five years ago. His brow was furrowed as he stared at Shinya, and all he could do was say his name.

“Takuya.”

“That’s me!” he said, far too chipper for the mood Shinya found himself in. A mood that was indescribable, impossible to sort out. Takuya stared at him, at a height Shinya would easily surpass if they were standing side by side. Wearing the same exact outfit that he did when he disappeared all those years ago, looking like it refused to age with the boy Shinya could only describe as immortal.

Which, for a second, caused Shinya to feel faint, nearly wobbling off the stairs as Takuya grabbed his wrist, trying not to let him fall. Coming to his senses, Shinya slapped it away, getting one good look at the situation to memorize it, before thundering down the stairs, running until he reached the landing. 

And the situation — all three of them — followed him.

There were two of them behind Takuya; both were holding some kind of plushie in their hands, making Shinya feel sick to his stomach (they went shopping ? When Takuya had been gone for years ?). The one holding the green, worm-like one had dark hair blue in a layered bob, his eyes telling Shinya all he needed to know — he pitied the situation. A pity Shinya didn’t need. 

Meanwhile, the other one, darker in skin tone and with spiky brown hair, carried a dinosaur looking plush and had his eyes narrowed as he reached forward, placing a singular, gloved hand on Takuya’s shoulder.

But Takuya mumbled something to him and inched closer to Shinya, making the height difference that wasn’t there before even more apparent. All while Shinya’s eyes darted around the room, trying to find something — anything — that would save him from the fact his brother, who had been missing for five and a half years , came back like time didn’t exist.

And that savior was his phone.

Hyousuke: What kind of cake do you like? ^^

Shinya: leave the cake - get here now

Taking a deep breath, Shinya stared at his open phone, refusing to close it. Because closing it meant facing Takuya and his little random posse. The one he collected instead of staying with his family and allowing Shinya to have a normal life with normal problems with normal relationships with the people around him.

Instead, he got people pitying him; people avoiding him because he was just a basketcase of problems. The only remotely good thing that came out from the whole mess was Hyousuke and even then, Shinya was sure he could befriend him on his own.

He didn’t need a pity party.

“Shinya… how old are you?”

From the corner of his eye, Shinya could see Takuya narrowing his eyes, furrowing his brow as he pieced together information that should’ve been apparent from just one look of the situation. Takuya was his older brother . And yet he looked thirteen . Meanwhile Shinya was sixteen through and through, how the hell was he supposed to explain that to anyone?

“No seriously… What happened? What’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Shinya said as the bell rang. The one thing that caused him to shut his phone close and take one last look at his brother. The immortal one. The one who lost all right to be his older brother.

As Shinya opened and slammed the door shut behind him, he exhaled. Hyousuke, who had a worried look painted on his face, held up a box presumably filled with slices of cake, giving a nervous smile.

“I know you told me to leave it, but —”

“Park. Now.”

The two of them sat on the swings at the local park Shinya used to frequent. The metal was cold, cold enough to shift Shinya’s thoughts from the shitty situation he was in to the swings themselves. But as the seat warmed up — a task that wasn’t so hard to do — his thoughts floated back to his brother. The way he wanted nothing to do with him. 

The way he still wanted nothing to do with him.

“So…” Hyousuke said, trying to break the silence.

Silently, Shinya answered. “He’s home.”

“Who?”

Shooting a glare at Hyousuke, Shinya shrunk, knowing this needed an explanation he had to give. 

“He’s home.” he said again, because maybe if he kept it vague, it would all be a hallucination. A dream that became reality because he willed it into being too hard. But if he denied it, it would go away.

“Once again, who ?”

Hyousuke wasn’t the brightest person in Shinya’s life — far from it. Which made this situation far worse. But for some reason… it felt okay, because it was Hyousuke and no one else.

“My brother,” Shinya said quietly. 

“So why the long face? Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Kicking the dirt beneath him, Shinya’s mind tried running calculations on how to explain it. That Takuya looked the same? That despite five years passing his older brother looked like his younger brother ? No one would believe him. 

But maybe Hyousuke would.

“He’s… exactly the same. He looks no different…” 

“Shinya that’s impossible.” “Are you sure you aren’t hallucinating?” “Didn’t you say you had a really hard biology test? Maybe you studied too hard and its effecting your brain.” Were all things Shinya could see any reasonable person saying to his dilemma.

“Let me see him.” 

Hyousuke, on the other hand, didn’t fall into that category. 

“You… sure?” Shinya said, turning his head to look at Hyousuke, utterly baffled. “You believe me?”

He felt himself propel slightly forward as Hyousuke slapped his back. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Shinya shrugged in response, waiting for the swing to steady and hopped off. As he picked up the cake the pair left in between them, Hyousuke got up. His hand found itself on top of Shinya’s for a brief moment when they traded ownership of the cake. But in Shinya’s mind, he wished it could last for longer. He wished that it was simply a happenstance that lasted far longer than however long accidents lasted.

When the two of them made it to Shinya’s house, Takuya was right there. He was fidgeting at the dining room table as he talked to the two strangers that formed Shinya’s worse nightmare. All of them looked up when the door swung open, conversation ending once they realized Shinya was back. 

Once a sense of normalcy was back.

Shinya shrunk, hiding behind Hyousuke, who was infinitely better than his phone. And Hyousuke? 

He pointed out the obvious.

“Whoa, he looks the same as he does in the photos,” Hyousuke said, his booming voice shaking everyone who wasn’t him to their core. For a second, Shinya made eye contact with Takuya, before hiding back behind the wall he had befriended. 

In those split seconds that Shinya got a good look at Takuya, he smiled. One that said hey. The same smile that signified a change in their dynamic way back when.

Shinya didn’t want to think about way back when. He wanted an out.

“I… I guess I do? I’ll be honest,” Takuya said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “I didn’t know I was gone for all that long. I thought it was only about half an hour?”

What.

Hyperventilating, Shinya grabbed onto the back of Hyousuke’s uniform, racking his brain for any plausible excuse to get out of this conversation. If this was a normal situation, Shinya would be calling both of his parents. If this was a normal situation the cops would be here right now. If this was a normal situation…

But it wasn’t that and his mind couldn’t think.

Hyousuke turned around, probably noticing the death grip Shinya had on his shirt, and patted him on the head. “You can hide in your room, I’ll handle this.”

Grateful for the excuse, Shinya ran upstairs, barely sparing Hyousuke anything more than a curt nod. He went up to his room, finding the room familiar and comforting. Because at the very least, it didn't pull the same shit Takuya did.

Lying on his bottom bunk  (they never did upgrade from a bunkbed to a twin), Shinya felt a tear roll down his face. He wanted to slap himself, completely aware of why he was crying, but not entirely sure if he wanted that to be the reason. Because he didn’t want to cry. He wanted to be mad . He wanted to be woken up. 

He wanted to…

His phone buzzed with a miscellaneous text. Some scam offer, which he threw in the trash. As he blocked the number he went through his contacts, wondering if he could find someone to talk to who would distract him. Instead… He came across the kanji for Kouji’s name, one of Takuya’s old friends.

Dialing the number out of habit, Shinya waited for the ringer to click with the sound of his voice. Around four years ago, Kouji allowed Shinya to call him whenever for the purpose of venting about Takuya’s disappearance. And while Shinya didn’t use it often, simply out of not wanting to bother the other with his neediness, he did it enough times for it to become a habit. But the line rang until it hit voicemail, causing Shinya to sigh and shut his phone close.

A minute later, the phone lit up with Kouji’s caller ID.

“Is it important?”

“Yes?” Shinya said, the statement causing him to question himself. Was it important? Was he just hallucinating and bringing others into it? Hyousuke said Takuya looked the same as he did in the photos, but… What if he meant that differently ? And only Shinya was seeing the thirteen year old sitting in the dining room? 

“You’ve got five minutes — I’m on shift.”

“I think need more than that,” Shinya said, finding himself on the verge of tears as Kouji kept talking. I have a job, you could’ve called literally anyone else, why did it have to be me? That wasn’t the Kouji who gave Shinya his number when his brother went missing.

That wasn’t him at all.

“Why are you even calling if you —”

“It’s about Takuya.”

“You couldn’t have said that —”

“He’s here.” Shinya said, his voice choking on the syllables. 

The line went silent for a minute, before the sound of movement overtook the silence. Muffled, Shinya heard him ask for a coworker to cover, before he presumably locked himself in a room (bathroom? Storage?) and responded.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know… I got home an hour ago and he was there.”

“Did you tell your parents?”

Shinya shook his head, before realizing Kouji couldn’t hear that. “No.”

There’s silence on the other end, before Shinya continued for the two of them. 

“He’s… He’s not aware five years has passed. He looked shocked when I saw him and asked me how old I was… He looks the same too.” Kouji didn’t respond, and so Shinya kept going, because his mind flooded with thoughts and feelings he didn’t want to have “There’s two others in my house… I don’t know any of them! I don’t even know my own brother; he said he thought he was gone for thirty minutes, I don’t even know… How to process that.”

Shinya let out a breath, overpowering any little sound Kouji could’ve made on the phone. There’s no response, just silence once again, before a sigh.

“Call your parents, I’ll call the others. I’ll get back to you in a bit.” And he hung up.

Shinya reluctantly dialed his father’s number..

Kouji unlocked the door to the storage area and gathered his things.

“Hey, remember how my best friend went missing about six years ago and we couldn’t find him?” he said to his boss, who happened to be the other person on shift. He wasn’t really one for conversation — not after everything that happened to him — and so he ignored the way his boss looked at him with a look that said “that’s certainly a way to start a conversation” and kept going. “Yeah, he’s home now, can I have the rest of the night off?”

With a sigh, his boss responded. “You really need to work on your social skills.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, and you can have tomorrow off too.”

Giving a curt bow to his boss, Kouji ran out of the door, mid dialing his brother. He hit the call button as soon as he was at the corner, leaning on the traffic light’s pole as he caught his breath.

It was the first time in ages he was actually excited for something.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

Sucking in his breath, trying to hide the fact he was running from Kouichi (which was futile — he could tell easily),  Kouji responded, “Takuya’s back.”

“ Oh .”

There’s a pause from Kouichi while Kouji debated telling him about how he looked the same as he did five years ago apparently, or how frantic Shinya sounded on the phone. It was debatable what was important now and what could’ve waited just a tiny bit. But all Kouji knew was that he wasn’t going to intrude on the Kanbara’s reunion with his theories that sounded like bullshit. 

They had enough to deal with.

“Can you call Izumi and Tomoki for me? Invite them to the apartment, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Can’t you do that?” There’s a sigh on the other side. It was infectious, as it caused Kouji to do so as well. 

“I could, but I don’t have their numbers anymore, remember? I got busy.”

Exacerbated, Kouichi responded. “Fine.”

When Kouji got home, Kouichi had just gotten off the phone with Izumi.

“Well?”

“Izumi’s coming, Tomoki can’t — he’s on academic probation currently and his parents don’t want him going out — and I’m assuming we’re calling Junpei when Izumi comes?” 

Currently, Junpei was in college for mechanical engineering at Tokyo University, causing him to live in shared housing away from Shinjuku. Mostly to focus more on his studies, but Kouichi pretty assumed it was to get away from them.

The rest of the group didn’t take Takuya’s disappearance as well, though it was debatable how big of an influence he had on Kouji’s life in particular. About a year after the disappearance, Kouji “separated” from his parents (for all legal purposes, Satomi was their guardian, but otherwise they lived alone), dragging Kouichi along with him. 

And Kouichi really had no say in all of it. Which was okay but Kouji’s standards but was… Questionable by Kouichi’s.

“You can text him,” Kouji said as he took off his shoes and put them on the rack. “I don’t want to bother him if he’s studying for a final or whatever.”

“Those are in January, Kouji,” Kouichi said with a sigh.

“You know what I mean,” Kouji said.

Due to the aforementioned situation, on a technicality, Kouji dropped out of school. Not fully, since Kouichi pretty much forced his younger brother to at least finish his highschool education in some form, but definitely according to most people. He showed up when he felt like it and didn’t have work scheduled.

Which relied on the stars aligning.

Kouichi took his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Junpei like instructed. Kouji moved over to their pitiful dining room, not bothering to hide in his “room” to change out of his uniform.

Kouichi: r u free?

“So how long did Izumi said it’ll take for her to get here?”

Kouichi shrugged as he read the incoming text from Junpei.

Junpei: yeah! whatcha need?

Kouichi: Takuya’s back
was gonna call u when Izumi got here

Flipping close his phone, Kouichi wasn’t expecting an immediate response. Only for it to vibrate the same way as he would get a call, shocking and causing him to juggle the poor old flip phone. 

“Let me guess, Junpei?” Kouji said with a small laugh as Kouichi picked up.

“Takky’s back? And you texted me this info?”

“Yeah? Sorry, we were going to call but we’re waiting on Izumi.”

“We?” And to that, Kouichi put the phone on speaker and rested it on the dining room table that Kouji sat at.

“Hey Junpei,” Kouji said, his voice sounding distant.

“Kouji! It’s been awhile! How are you?”

Letting the two get to their catch up conversation, Kouichi retreated into his room, flopping on his bed and trying to rest before the conversation he dreaded having.

It wasn’t that he un happy that Takuya came back… But it was just, complicated.

The buzzer rang and Kouichi emerged from his room, watching as Kouji opened the door to Izumi, still dressed in her school uniform. She took a seat at the only other available chair at the twin’s pathetic dining room table, curling up into a ball as she waved to Kouji.

The arrival of Izumi meant they could all finally talk about whatever it was that Kouji knew that the rest of them were in the dark about. Taking a stand closer to the table, only in order to make it easier on Junpei to be able to hear everything, Kouichi sighed and quietly spoke. “So… You ready to talk, Kouji?”

“Shinya called me —”

“So you didn’t talk to him,” Izumi interrupted with a sigh.

Kouichi noticed Kouji’s eyebrow twitch, the way it does so when someone asked something so obvious to Kouji (that was never shared outside of his mind) and he just wanted them to stop talking. Izumi never picked up on it, aside from noting that Kouji’s temperament had reverted back to when they had first met (which Kouichi had no baseline for, so he took her at her word), but it was one of those things that cause Kouichi to want to have a long talk with his brother about. A talk he could never have, as he grew scared of potential backlash. So instead, he buried himself in the beige turtleneck he wore.

“As I was saying , Shinya called me and told me Takuya didn’t age?”

Silence befell the group for a second, one that Kouichi was sure everyone but Kouji felt, as Kouji was the one who immediately broke the silence. “I think he went to the Digital World.”

“But you… Didn’t talk to him,” Izumi said quietly.

“I could believe that,” Junpei said directly after Izumi. “We couldn’t find him anywhere.”

Kouichi sighed, zoning out of the conversation that consumed the group. He knew Izumi better than the other two at this point — not due to being particularly close to her, but due to the fact he was simply the only one in her grade that showed up frequently enough. Everyone knew she blamed herself for Takuya’s disappearance, as unfortunate as it was — it happened on her birthday, after all. However no one knew the extent of it — how deep the blame ran, how far it carried her into barely functioning some days. How their classmates would stare at her and make fun of her, both too her face and to Kouichi in “private,” the significantly more popular one of the two. How girls would fawn over Kouichi and how Izumi would glare at him, because nearly everyone else left. He was the only one left, and people threatened to take him away.

Which always made him think: how devastated would the others be if instead of Takuya… It was him who went missing?

“Whatever, Izumi,” Kouji started. His tone was harsh, like someone asked him one too many questions and now he was tired. “We won’t see him until he contacts us.”

“Kouji don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?” Junpei said, earning a slight nod from Izumi. “Sure, give him some time to get situated with his family, but… I don’t think we should wait on him, yknow?”

Sensing a needless argument, Kouichi rubbed his temples and made up a lie. “I think we should stop here, I’m starting to get a headache.” 

“Oh okay,” Junpei started, interrupted by his own shock. “Oh shoot — it’s eleven! I promised someone I would help them study fifteen minutes ago!” 

Saying his goodbyes, he hung up the phone, allowing Kouji to flip it close and stare down Izumi.

“I’m going to see him… I don’t believe any of this.”

“Then you do you.”

She got up slowly, saying nothing to Kouji and leaving with nothing more than a “see you tomorrow” to Kouichi. Who wanted to walk her out, but chose not to, in order to keep up the illusion of his headache.

One that his brother wholeheartedly believed. “I don’t.. Think we have anything for headaches? I could run back to work and pick something up?” he said as he stood up and grabbed onto Kouichi as a mother would to her sick child. 

“I don’t need anything.”

Kouji nodded, letting go of his brother as he did so, but standing the same distance apart. “You should sleep then.” 

“I know.”

But he didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted to do… 

All he knew was that he did, in fact, want to talk to Takuya.

Chapter Text

They were going phone shopping.

It was Takuya’s mom’s idea to take the three of them shopping for essentials. Takuya was fine with this notion initially — after all, his old phone (which, definitely would’ve been outdated by now) was sold for information. It was either that or his gift for Izumi, which he still held onto throughout the “years” — a task that wasn’t impossible for him, at least. Because, he thought, realizing that shopping meant he would mostly be absorbed in his own thoughts, he really didn’t feel like five years had passed. In his mind, he held onto Izumi’s gift for six months. And that’s how much time should’ve passed. He should’ve been able to introduce Ken and Ryo to his friends and it should’ve been… Fun? He wasn’t entirely sure; he didn’t want them to think as if he was replacing them, but also, more friends equaled more opportunities for fun. Instead, it was anything other than fun. It’s been the emotion that is seeing the way his mom would look past him, never at him. It’s been the emotion that is watching Shinya act as if Takuya never came back. It’s been the emotion that is looking his dad in the eye, being unable to recognize the man at a second glance, as his jovial eyes had tired out. 

It shouldn’t have been this way.

Takuya stayed towards the back of the group, just barely catching up when his lackadaisical nature caused a huge rift in their distances. The group was in Shibuya, looking for cellphones first and foremost, along side one outfit each, as all of Takuya’s clothes had been ruined due to time. And if one thing was certain about Shibuya, it was that it was busy. 

Busy in a way that Takuya felt he could easily get lost in, and know it would be for the better. He ruined the sense of normalcy in the life of the people who he cared about twice — once by disappearing, the other by reappearing — and in his mind, that was a sin. And as he had to catch up so the four of them could enter a store together, he almost wondered what it would be like to run. Hide in the isles, sink into the city like a shadow sinking into the pavement at dusk. And he knew it would cause a third disturbance. He knew that. But it didn’t help but make him feel almost like he wasn’t supposed to come back. As if he should’ve stayed somewhere, on the streets that weren't Shibuya or Shinjuku, and got adopted after a radical change.

He wasn't even touching a phone when an employee came up to him.

"Need any help?" they said, their voice cold and distant. Takuya shook his head, and they shrugged and walked away, their blue ponytail swaying as they moved onto the next customer.

It wasn't until Takuya found himself enamored by the ponytail that he realized that was Kouji.

Did he… Know who I was? Takuya thought, narrowing his eyes as he picked up a random phone to pretend he needed help. If Kouji knew that was Takuya, why didn't he strike up a conversation? Ask him how he was? Which, sure, he might've been on the clock (but it was questionable why he was here and not in school), but surely he would've been interested in talking to Takuya, right?

As he clutched the Docomo phone on display, Takuya scanned the store, looking for Kouji in the midst of the rows of technology, finding him at the front talking to who Takuya assumed was a coworker. So he grabbed the phone he was holding alongside a phone that looked different and brought it up there, intending on getting Kouji to talk to him.

But once he made his way up to the front, his mom stopped him. 

"Oh! If you need any help, there’s someone helping us!"

With a frown, Takuya responded in fake kindness, then proceeded to shoot the back of Kouji's head with a glare. 

Of course, he should just disappear. That was the answer.

Because not even his friends wanted to talk to him.

"Kimura-san!" 

Kouichi turned around, not entirely sure who from his class just called him. Normally he sat on the rooftop with Izumi during lunch, which was where he was heading towards, but he was interrupted. A girl with short red hair hid behind a textbook, making eye contact with Kouichi as she lowered the book from her face. With it no longer covering her mouth, Kouichi could see it held a smile.

"I'm sorry, I'm busy right now," he said, though to be honest, he wasn't sure if he was busy out of an obligatory habit, or because he wanted to. 

"Oh, that’s alright! I just wanted to know if you wanted to study for English together — no worries if not! I just heard you’re really good at this," she said, causing Kouichi to realize she was tapping away at their English book, the subject they had a test on tomorrow.

A test neither Kouji or Izumi were ready for.

And while he could use the extra help in learning the material… Any time spent away from home was time taken away from tutoring Kouji.

"I'll let you know later, alright?" he said with a smile.

"OK! By the way, I'm Amagi Rin, just in case you've forgotten,” she said, the same initial bounciness in her voice carrying through to the end, even as she assumed she was a nobody to Kouichi.

Which, sadly, was true. He didn’t remember the name of many of his classmates, mainly because he didn’t need to. Most of the girls picked on Izumi, so he had no actual interest in them despite their interest in him. And Kouji generally wanted him home earlier than he was to take care of the house, just in case there was a chore he couldn’t preform before work. Which meant that Kouichi never considered joining a club to get to know anyone else well…

But Amagi-san, who Kouichi had no recollection of — positive or negative — felt different. 

Waving a small goodbye, Kouichi took his things and made it up the stairs that led to the roof, scanning for Izumi and finding her in a fenced in corner, knees tucked into her chin. When he approached, she didn't look up, instead mouthing that he was late. 

Which he was, but it really shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. 

"Are you ready for tomorrow's test?" Kouichi asked, trying to make small talk with her. She glared at him instead, before turning back to her initial position.

"I don't care about that."

Of course she didn't. 

With an inaudible sigh, Kouichi prodded, "Takuya, right?" 

"Why didn't he text us if he was back?" 

"Maybe his phone died?" It was, in fact, a reasonable answer.

A reasonable answer Izumi accepted, sighing as she stretched her body out, taking up far more room than she had normally. Every time Kouichi saw her, she shrunk. Smaller and smaller until her social presence was really only known to Kouichi, in fear of a repeat of Takuya…

…In fear of growing attached.

"Listen," Kouichi started, turning to face Izumi and resting a hand on her knee, "we can see Takuya. I know Kouji wanted to wait, but what good will that do us?"

Izumi smiled; a small one that suited her. Kouichi smiled back — it was infectious, after all. 

"Nah, I think I need to attempt to study for English."

"Sure, I can help."

Izumi shook her head, but the smile never faltered.

It suited her, after all.

After all that deliberation of whether he should or not, Kouichi found himself in a small little café, a plastic ice coffee cup on his right, a French pastry to his left, and a notebook resting on top of an unopened textbook directly in front of him. Amagi-san was at the counter, waiting on her drink that was infinitely more complicated than Kouichi's simple iced latte. 

In the downtime, Kouichi pulled out his phone, dreading sending a text to Kouji, who was most definitely done with his first shift and was either heading home or picked up a coworker's odd shift somewhere else. And as much as Kouichi normally wanted Kouji home so he had a study partner — even if it was apparent how wide the gap between their grades were — he hoped it was the latter. Rarely was Kouji home without Kouichi there, it was nearly tradition. Kouichi had no other friends but Izumi, at least for those in his grade, and Izumi rarely wanted to hang out. 

Besides, someone else had to keep the house tidy. And while Kouji very much wanted to be the one who did everything for his elder brother, Kouichi ended up doing most of the housekeeping. Which the elder twin was fine with — it just meant not really doing much in the way of social activity. 

Today could be an exception. He never really had an exception before, anyway. 

But as Kouichi hovered over the buttons to form a text to his brother, he felt his hands freeze, not wanting to potentially say anything that would cause upset.

Kouichi: out. home later

He stuffed his phone in his pocket. Taking a bite of his pastry, he noticed Amagi-san approach their table, holding a slice of cake in one hand and a drink in a similar cup as Kouichi's, only topped with whipped cream and some kind of syrup. She set her drink down first, then her cake before sitting down and digging through her bag for her notebook. 

"God, you're a lifesaver, Kimura-san. I didn't know what I'd do — English is the one subject I don't get."

Kouichi chuckled, but the type where he drowned half of it with his drink because he didn't know what to do with his reactions. It's been ages since he hung out with someone outside of his immediate circle. Group projects were always with Izumi and the only classmate's number he had was Izumi's.

"You don't… have to use my last name," he said, noting that his phone buzzed. Out of reflex, he checked it and sighed. 

Kouji: I'm free - I could hang out with u if u want

Closing his phone with far more force than he intended to, Amagi-san tilted her head, her eyes wide as she sipped from her drink.

"Everything OK?"

"Yeah, it was my brother. Nothing to worry about."

She stared at him blankly, before narrowing her eyes and furrowing her brows as if she was trying to figure something out. 

"You… Have a… Brother?"

Caught off guard, Kouichi responded, his voice rising an octave. "Yeah? He's rarely in though."

There's another delay as Amagi-san furrows her brows even further, which made Kouichi try to stare at the other tables around the room, seeing the people that maybe frequented this place, before he noticed Amagi-san's face light up in the corner.

"Oh! Yeah of course Minamoto-san's your brother! Your given names begin with the same kanji, I totally knew that."

She, of course, didn't know that, from what Kouichi could tell.

The two sat in silence for a second, Kouichi mentally preparing a speech for why his last name was different from Kouji's. Because he still loved his late mom, and Kouji still wasn't able to shake off custody from their biological father; because Kouichi loved the little degrees of separation he had from his brother.

But she didn't ask that. Instead she opened her book, flipping through the pages before landing on the page that contained the material on the test. She looked up at Kouichi, a smile planted on her face that disappeared as she had a bite of cake and Kouichi couldn't help but be taken aback for a second. A split second. A millisecond of time where he lost his composure and wondered why she wasn't begging for more info that she didn't need. 

Though, he supposed, it didn't matter.

In the end, the two spent the next two hours reviewing their notes. The first couple of minutes were awkward — resulting in several unproductive comments about how hard the English language was. Which made Kouichi think that half way through, Amagi-san would give up on studying and play twenty questions in poor English practice disguise. 

Much to Kouichi’s surprise, that didn’t happen. Instead, they kept going, actually making progress until two hours later — where they felt they’ve exceeded the reasonable amount of time they could make medium sized drinks last. in sync, the two stood up, returning the plates to their corresponding bins. Their hands brushed for a moment before they both pulled back, exchanging awkward glances and smiles before Kouichi felt another buzz from his phone.

Kouji: u OK?
U don't normally leave me hanging
Do I need to come get u? 
Kouichi?

"Oh! Would it be cool if we exchanged numbers?" Amagi-san asked, taking out her pink phone adorned with a small figurine of something Kouichi couldn't make out.

"Sure," he said, ignoring Kouji's texts once more and inserting the number Amagi-san gave him. She asked to see to make sure he got it right, and when she did so, she made a single correction.

Amagi-san was what Kouichi had originally written, Rin-chan (ᵔᴥᵔ) was what she replaced it with.

Kouichi could only assume she had his name in there as Kou-kun or some variant.

"It's only fair, Kouichi-kun!" she said, holding up a V sign. 

"Y-yeah, it's only fair." 

Though he struggled to call her Rin-chan.

Takuya paced in his room — the room that had technically always been his, but now felt like it was barely even his. Ken sat at the desk, tapping away at the surface with a pen, while Ryo was curled up on Shinya’s share of the bunkbed, propped up with one elbow as he ran circles on the sheets with his index finger. 

It really only felt like six months to Takuya — seven if one really wanted to stretch it — since he got dragged back into the rebuilt Digital World and met Ken and Ryo. But he couldn’t stop panicking about the time difference, about how it all felt wrong . About how it shouldn’t have been five years — about how they shouldn’t have let him stay in the Digital World for that long. They being who? Takuya didn’t know — just someone in general.

And last night was particularly bad. 

“Daisuke told me that his senpai said something similar to your situation. That when their Digital World got rebuilt, time flowed parallel with our world. So maybe that’s what happened here?” Ken had said in response to Takuya’s tearfilled question of why everything advanced so far, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

At that point, Shinya had ran out — with someone at the very least, but no one Takuya knew — and it was just so obviously apparent that everything was wrong; that the Digital World he got sucked into wasn’t the same as the first one he was in.

“But —” Takuya said, cutting his own self off with his sobs “— shouldn’t… Six months…. Have passed instead?”

He noticed Ryo give an uncomfortable “smile” — the forced kind that showed he knew something he didn’t want to share — that had quickly faltered once Takuya looked at him.

He knew something.

“Ryo?” Ken noticed it too, his attention also towards the self proclaimed Tamer. And for what Takuya could only assume was pity, Ken wrapped him in an embrace. 

“It’s… Well, the reason I left you, Ken.” 

There’s silence, the only sound being the ticking clock hanging above the stove.

“Millenniummon just… Wrapped me in a pocket of eternity the last time I faced him… And by the time I defeated him, not much would’ve been left for me, so I chose to start over in a new world.

“It’s not your fault, Takuya, it’s my fault.”

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to blame anyone other than himself for being so careless. 

Takuya stopped pacing and moved over to the bed where Ryo was laying, sitting at the very edge. He hunched forward, bringing his legs up and letting his feet rest on the bedframe, twiddling with his thumbs as his mind floated to other topics.

They were supposed to be talking about Millenniummon, but Takuya was very much not into it.

He looked directly at Wormmon, who was lying on the desk directly next to Ken, asleep. Wormmon, who he met before he even ran into Ken or Ryo. The one who he saved from a Nanomon who was desperately trying to get rich quick off of a scam an entire world fell for. And that lead him to Ken and a Ryo, which caused him to realize there was more going on in the Digital World that he had left than he realized. Which was when he should’ve quit, Takuya realized in hindsight, because the initial mystery he wanted to uncover was solved. But his own want to help Ken out — which, the want to help ironically developed because of the Digital World trip prior, otherwise he would’ve left — caused him to stay in the web that was the Digital World’s messed up time sphere.

“Takuya?” Ken asked, to which Takuya shook his head.

It really was… All his own fault, huh. 

“Takuya,” Ken said again, this time with more force.

Only his eyes looked up as he stared Ken in the face, sighing as he noticed that Ken looked concerned . 

“I’m fine.”

“That’s a lie,” Ryo piped in. 

“I said I’m fine,” Takuya said, emphasizing a lie because he didn’t want to bother anyone.

“Yeah that sounds like even more of a lie,” Ryo said with a sigh. “Maybe we should take a break?”

“Didn’t we pass by a cafe earlier?” Ken asked, the words sounding mostly hollow to Takuya. “Maybe we should go out again.”

Which wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, actually. Especially considering the cold shoulder he got from Shinya all last night. He was coming home soon enough, assuming he wasn’t involved in any afterschool clubs, and they were… Technically in Shinya’s room, even if they shared it. Because it wasn’t really shared anymore.

It was more like Takuya was borrowing it.

Kouichi sat at the local park, regretting not bringing even the lightest jacket with him. The park bench he chose was flanked by two trees, both swaying in the wind that attacked Kouichi’s back. It was cold to say the least, as expected of November, but at least earlier his blazer on top of his sweater was enough to shut out the wind. 

Nothing was protecting his hands that were out and texting Junpei.

Kouichi: when r u off? curious bout smthing

Junpei: 23rd! i think your free too?

Kouichi: oooh yeah, the teacher said smthing about that

Junpei: would Kouji have off? we could see Takuya that day, its a week from now

Kouichi: idk, he works nonstop, i could ask him?

He didn’t want to ask him.

Junpei: yeah! that would be great! maybe we could all hang out again on the 23rd, like old times!

Like old times…

Kouichi: sure

Except, that meant convincing Kouji and Izumi to go out, on top of actually communicating with Tomoki in a significant way. To be honest, the “old times” just couldn’t exist anymore. It was too dependent on one boy. One boy who they all put their faith in and lost it when he disappeared.

Their fault, really. Takuya shouldn’t have been the one to bear all of their problems. Nor should the unfortunate things that happened to him be the blame for everyone’s current life. He was a person , not an idol — not a figurative ideal of a person — and he deserved the same respect as a person would. Because that’s what he was .

He wasn’t the thing to keep Kouji and Izumi sane. He wasn’t the thing that kept Tomoki from straying down the wrong path. He wasn’t the thing that Kouichi should envy… He was him , a kid, and putting all of that weight on him would’ve made him snap sooner or later…

And if it was in the form of a planned trip to the Digital World, Kouichi couldn’t blame him.

Kouichi’s phone buzzed continuously with a phone call. The caller ID on his still open phone read “Kouji” and he sighed as he picked it up.

“Hey, are you coming home soon?” Kouji asked.

“No.”

“Oh.” Silence befell them as Kouichi tried formulating how to ask the same question he asked Junpei. If his brother was free on the 23rd. The question he didn’t want to ask. 

The question Junpei wanted him to ask.

(Oh how it was so easy for Junpei to form bonds with the rest of them. In a way, he took Takuya’s place… But the bonds weren’t there. Kouichi could see him trying, but they all knew Kouji and Tomoki especially were closer to Takuya than Junpei… And that Izumi had fallen in love with Takuya.

He could never replace Takuya.)

“So then…” Kouji started, but Kouichi cut him off.

“Are you… Free on the 23rd?” 

There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Kouji responds. “I have an awkward time shift at the convenience store that day. 3pm to 8pm, I doubt I could do much. Why?”

“Oh y’know…” No, he doesn’t know. But Kouichi didn’t really want to tell him why, so he delayed. “Me and Junpei were thinking of us all hanging out… Y’know, like… Old times.”

But there’s no hesitation in Kouji’s voice. “I’m busy.”

Sighing into the phone, Kouichi responded, “I know.”

He knew that would be Kouji’s answer. Even if he wasn’t working an odd hour shift, even if he was as free as a bird, that would be his answer. Because that's who he was now. He wasn't free, he didn't want to be free. He wanted to bury himself in work until he died. 

And sort of contrary to that, he wanted to bury himself in work until Kouichi noticed and saved him.

"By the way… You can order food, I'm not coming home until late."

"I can cook."

"I don't think I stocked the fridge."

At that, Kouichi raised a brow. The fridge wasn't well stocked, but it certainly wasn't barren . Kouji should’ve known that, he helped Kouichi with dinner last night. 

But Kouichi was too goddamn tired to question it.

"Sure, I guess I'll order something."

Without saying goodbye, or even letting Kouji say anything else on the matter, Kouichi shut the phone. He breathed in the crisp air, remembering that he should open his phone back up to tell Junpei that Monday was a bust, at least, for getting the entire gang together. He didn't mind just hanging out with Junpei, though he wasn't sure what the two of them would do…

It wasn't like he disliked hanging out with Junpei - quite the opposite, actually. But he just wasn’t sure if he was in the mood to do so.

Especially not if Kouji was acting the way he was currently.

Speaking of which, Kouichi guessed he should go and pick up something for dinner. Something cheap, like a bento from a convenience store, so he didn't have to worry about money again. 

Standing up from the bench, Kouichi stretched his arms, ready to set off on a walk. But as his eyes slowly opened after being squeezed shut, he noticed someone not all too far off in the distance who was actually recognizable to the otherwise unobservant twin. The person was short, about the same height Kouichi was when he was thirteen, flanked by two others of similar heights. The middle person — whom Kouichi was focused on — was wearing flannel. Red at that, the specific shade associated with fire. That was distinct, because he remembered when the Warrior of Fire picked it out, on an outing with the twins, saying he was particularly drawn to that article of clothing solely due to the color. Said person had never considered flannel before, opting to wear single colored jackets over single colored shirts. But this flannel held meaning. It was the perfect merger of colors, the perfect texture, so perfect the word lost all meaning to the Warrior of Fire. It was his.

And Kouichi realized just how bewildered he was staring at a group that ultimately passed by him without a second thought, but he couldn't give that group anymore space in his brain. They took up all of it, as Kouji's matter-of-fact statement of where the missing Warrior of Fire could've gone rang in Kouichi's brain. 

That was Kanbara Takuya, in the flesh. That was Kanbara Takuya, the perfect illustration of what youth looked like for a group of kids that saved a world they owed nothing to.

Following their trajectory with his eyes, Kouichi started to approach. His phone was out as he started composing a text to Junpei, deciding to let the college student have his own moment with Takuya, instead of it being taken over by Kouichi.

Kouichi: nvm something came up dw bout me

go see takuya by urself 

The trio ended up at a picnic table, placing their takeout boxes (which Kouichi didn't notice initially) on the table's surface, causing Kouichi to hesitate. They were enjoying something — something Kouichi assumed they didn't get to do frequently now, what with people fussing over them nonstop. Or at least Takuya. Kouichi didn't recognize the other two and apparently he wasn't alone in that. And no one seemed to have claimed those two yet… At least, not to Kouichi's knowledge. Kouji was the only one being updated on the situation it seemed, and currently he was busy being a little hypocritical about the situation. Claiming he misses Takuya and that he was excited for his return, channeling unbridled rage into pure excitement, but Kouichi could see right past him.

He could always see right past him.

For a split second, Kouichi debated turning right around. Walking away from them, heading towards the convenience store and then to his apartment, content to pretend today had never happened but act it did when Junpei asked why he so suddenly canceled. 

But for some reason, he approached. Perhaps because he wanted to spite his brother. Because he didn't want to lie to Junpei — the only one of them who didn't deserve to be lied to. 

Because Kouichi trusted Takuya, and wanted to know if his own feelings towards his brother were justified. 

As he approached the picnic table, one of the two that Kouichi didn't know stared at him, his green eyes inquisitive, but not as open as the word implied. They were narrowed, if only slightly, before they ultimately turned away to face Takuya, engaging in the conversation once more.

But once he was directly in front of the table, all eyes were on him. As if their gaze robbed him of a breath he spoke with a lack of. "Takuya?" 

And the one who held the namesake looked up, eyes narrowed as he scanned Kouichi, trying to figure out who it was time had made him lose. After all, Kouichi was in a school uniform, one of high-school designation, and not in his old burgundy long sleeve and green button up that he favored back then. His hair got longer — not to the length Kouji's ever was — grazing past his shoulder blades ever so slightly. He was older, taller in stature and his shoulders had firmed up. Not too much — his build was still relatively lanky in comparison to his far more built classmates — but far more than his twin. His eyes carried stress; the stress of taking care of Izumi and the stress of being under Kouji's orders. The last time Takuya had seen him, his eyes carried joy.

And he supposed that his voice had morphed too close to his brother's old, deeper voice, as it was the first time in Kouichi's life that he had been confused for his younger brother.

They had, after all, made it a point to never look identical.

"No, I'm Kouichi," he said, shaking his head. 

Takuya's face sunk as he probably realized that was the first time he mistook them for the other. After all, Takuya had spent more time with Kouji in total — even if the younger twin had cut his hair in an act of compliance with his biological father’s wishes, Takuya would know instantly it was Kouji and not Kouichi.

But Kouichi supposed, the five years had gone and scrambled his mind, knowing it was one of the two, but couldn't discern the new differences the two had grown.

"You wanna sit?" one of Takuya’s companions asked, scooting over to make room for him. But Kouichi shook his head, realizing that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t interrupt the kid any further.

After all, he was adjusting. Kouichi would only make that worse.

"Look, I'm sorry, I don't know why I thought you were Kouji, it's just —"

"It's fine," Kouichi responded, cutting Takuya off. But he kept going.

"You're the first one of my friend's I've been in contact with."

Kouichi stopped. He knew Kouji refused to let anyone see Takuya earlier, at least, not until he got "situated;" a fancy way for Kouji to say he didn't want to see Takuya in the near future. But he figured Izumi would've disobeyed. Junpei would’ve called. Someone who wasn't directly subservient to Kouji would’ve broken his suggestion and reached out. 

But then again, Kouji was Takuya's best friend. 

Kouji knew him best. 

“I’m sorry,” Kouichi said with a bow. “I… I gotta go — Kouji’s home waiting for me.” He wasn’t, but Takuya didn’t need to know that.

Takuya smiled and waved goodbye, the smile pitiful and showing that Takuya wasn’t okay. Kouichi could tell easily — whether it be because of an unknown (to Takuya) kinship they had gained while he went missing or what have you, Kouichi just knew . 

And he felt bad that he couldn’t talk to the kid who was most likely hurting from missing so much, but something in Kouichi’s mind told him no.

Something in his mind told him to wait.

A week after arriving at the Kanbara’s residency, Takuya and Ryo were in the living room, playing a video game on a system both of them were unfamiliar with. Ken was in the kitchen with Wormmon, spending the alone time thinking. Because from what Ken could see, Shinya-san did his best to ignore Takuya’s existence.

Whenever the trio of them where in the brother’s shared room, they were all kicked out with a shrug and a pitiful sounding voice explaining he had homework to do. And in today’s case, when the trio arrived home after Shinya-kun did, the door had a keep out sign.

It almost reminded Ken of Osamu…

Almost.

Taking a quick glance at the foot of the stairs because he swore he heard movement in it’s general direction, Ken pondered the situation all three of them had found themselves in. A situation all too normal for Ryo and a situation all to foreign for Takuya and Ken. After all, it wasn’t like Ken had nothing he enjoyed in his old life… Actually, it was quite the opposite. He was the only child his parents had now, and he had already left them alone once. What happened now? Did they remember him? Did they appear on the news fortnightly, crying about how their last child disappeared without a trace once more? Did they ask Daisuke and the rest of them to find him, because that’s who found him the last time he disappeared, only for them to end up empty handed and shaking their heads. 

Or did they all forget? Did they all have a life where Ken Ichijouji, their friend, never existed? Or worst yet, did he die?

Where they all mourning his death as he stood in a foreign kitchen, leaning against a counter not used to his weight, alive but unable to reach them?

“Ken-chan…” Wormmon said, sensing Ken’s emotions. And to his own name that trailed off, he so desperately wanted to say he was fine. But he wasn’t, Wormmon knew that. Ken knew that. So instead he scooped the little green critter in his arms and hugged him tight.

“I know, it’s not helping.” But he still couldn’t help but wonder what was going on back where he belonged. 

“Maybe we should —” Whatever Wormmon tried to say was cut off by the sound of someone descending down the stairs. 

As Ken wiped his tears, he noticed Shinya-kun resting at the foot of the stairs, staring  blankly at his surroundings before pulling out his phone and heading towards the fridge. He stood directly next to Ken, who backed away out of respect once he realized this, staring him down as the cold air from the fridge made the situation extra uncomfortable. 

"Quit staring at me," Shinya-kun said, turning his head away from Ken, "you're creeping me out." 

And all Ken did was mumble an apology as he moved away from the kitchen entirely and towards the living room that Takuya and Ryo occupied. 

Silently, he hoped the Kanbara brothers turned out nothing like himself and his own brother.