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The first time it was brought up, Daigo wasn’t paying attention.
In his defense, he had just been shot. Laying down in a hospital bed with a bloody bullet hole in his upper body, he might have been less attentive than usual. After his latest stunt (escaping the hospital and nicely opening up his stitches again while attempting to stop the Tojo conflict of the week), Daigo needed some rest.
So focusing on anything was tedious at best.
He was really trying to listen to Shinada as he explained how he had somehow joined forces with Kiryu and Saejima (small fucking world they lived in), but found himself almost dozing off after a few minutes. It was hard to pay attention when the buzzing in his brain was so loud, urging him to go back to sleep already.
At one point, he realized apologies were in order. Because no matter how excited he was as he described his fight against the shooter at the concert, Shinada sounded like he had been through a lot. Hell, he looked like he had been through a lot, his face bloody and battered, with an impressive black eye on his left side. Daigo hated looking at it, such concrete proof that his meddling with the former baseball player’s life could have had terrible consequences.
He had to admit everything had gone far better than expected, with surprisingly few losses on their side, but still. This entire thing had been quite the gamble. The life of a yakuza leader was very much an infernal game of chess - Daigo had to accept early on that losing a few pawns was to be expected. Sometimes you even lost vital pieces, ones that could cost you the entire game. And knowing he could have doomed someone as irreplaceable as Shinada left a bad taste in his mouth.
“It seems like… Tonight has been rough,” he said, mustering all his strength so that his voice didn’t waver. “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Tatsuo.”
“Nah, don’t you worry about it, I’m fine !” Shinada leaned back on the tiny chair he was crammed in. “I mean, I guess I could have croaked a couple of times tonight, huh. Almost drowned in the sewers, now that I think about it.” Daigo frowned, prompting Shinada to add, “Ah, but Saejima caught me just in time !”
He could be so nonchalant sometimes, Daigo thought. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would so casually admit he almost perished in disgusting sewage water. And he did that with a smile, too. An honest, bright smile that made something in Daigo’s stomach flutter… And that made his guilt ramp up. He shifted in his bed, uncomfortable. “Hm. Still, it was… A lot. I’m sorry.”
Shinada shook his head, unruffled, “It’s okay. I’m the one who wanted to tag along, I ain’t gonna complain.”
“I guess,” Daigo conceded. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried his hardest to stop Shinada from following him to Tokyo. The fight they had was one he knew he wasn’t going to forget about anytime soon. It earned him a few side eyes last time a nurse had come to change his bandages. She no doubt wondered how he had managed to get so drastically covered in bruises. Daigo had made no effort to justify himself then - it was probably better for the medical staff to think he had taken part in some Dantesque fight to the death with another yakuza. The real story (‘I got my ass kicked by some nobody civilian who just happens to be built like a brick shithouse’) was not particularly flattering. “I just wish I could have done more to help.”
Getting shot and benched right before shit truly went down had been rough. Between that and losing that one fight against Shinada, it truly hadn’t been Daigo’s day. He was used to rolling with the punches, and all in all he had managed to get out of that particular crisis more or less okay, but he would have preferred a more dignified ending. Crawling back into that damn hospital bed because he had almost bled to death twice in less than twenty-four hours was a little embarrassing.
“Didn’t you stop that big Omi mastermind, in the end?” Shinada asked, apparently not ready to hold his shortcomings against him. “I mean, you ran from here despite being all fucked up, just in time to save the day. Not bad, for a dude with one foot in the grave.”
“It’ll take more than a pesky bullet to take me down.” It was said with enough bravado to be convincing, but Daigo still felt incredibly tired. He might have a toe in the grave already. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Damn, okay tough guy.” Shinada gave a toothy grin, his voice getting slightly more serious as he kept talking, “Me, I’ve never been shot at before tonight. It was… Well I’m not a fan. I think I could do without it for the rest of my life !”
Way to go genius, hissed that nagging little voice inside Daigo’s head. Giving civilians trauma by making them jump in the line of fire. Wonderful !
Bowing down properly was unlikely, as he was finding it painful to even attempt to sit, but Daigo still straightened up in his bed, ignoring the sharp sting in his wounded side, “I’m sorry you had to-”
Shinada immediately cut him off, waving a hand nonchalantly, “Ah, c’mon, let’s stop with the apologies already ! We’re both fine-ish, yeah? That’s good enough !”
“I don’t know if ‘fine’ is the first word that comes to mind.”
“What, this? It’s nothing ! Scratches, scuff marks, no big deal !” Shinada gestured at his bloody face. “You take baseballs hurled at you at 80 miles an hour in the face enough times, black eyes stop being impressive.”
“You still look rough. Makes me wonder how you even managed to get in here. I’d expect the nurses to have captured you by now. That cut on your forehead looks like it could use some medical attention…”
Shinada absent-mindedely pawed at the wound, and sure enough his hand was in a sad state as well, his knuckles scraped and bloody. Whether it was his blood or someone’s else was debatable. “Guess they smelled the ‘This guy doesn’t have medical insurance’ stench on me and that’s why they left me alone.”
Daigo was about to propose to pay for any medical expenses, maybe apologize some more, but he stopped in his tracks by Shinada winking at him, his voice cheerful as he suggested, “That or they got confused by the ol’ Shinada charm. Yeah, I’m battered and bruised, but I still got it, huh?”
Bouncing back on that was out of the question - Daigo knew he’d rather not comment on Shinada’s looks more than necessary. Worrying about his wounds was one thing, but joking about him being good looking… He’d rather change the subject.
Mercifully, Shinada did exactly that, smiling wide as he added, “And, not to brag, but you should see the other guy. Wiped the floor with his little weasel ass, yup !”
Daigo winced, having been on the receiving end of Shinada’s anger recently enough to sympathize. “That poor man.”
“He’ll live,” Shinada shrugged, though it was clear he wasn’t as detached as he pretended to be. Daigo could only assume something had happened between the two opponents. He should ask Saejima about it one of these days. “My point is… Tonight went as good as it could have, I think. And I feel fine.”
It seemed like he was going to keep it at that, and Daigo wondered if it was time to call it a night, more than ready to finally go back to sleep, when Shinada laughed, “‘Sides, it’s the end of the world soon, so it’s not like it matters if I got hurt tonight or not.”
Now, Daigo wasn’t the most humorous person. He could give a motivational speech and lead negotiations, but casual, friendly conversation still escaped him. Banter and jests were usually lost on him. And yet, even he could tell that last sentence had been…
Weird.
It had been said nonchalantly enough to be a joke, but the tone was definitely off. And Shinada failed to elaborate any further, starting another retelling of the fight he had taken part in with Kiryu and his band of misfits in front of the Millenium Tower instead.
No matter how bizarrely it had been brought up, the end of the world thing quickly got out of Daigo’s head. He felt like he normally would have asked what it was about, but he was frankly too tired to investigate. Shinada was talking for two anyway, and the sound of his voice was starting to be soothing enough to lull him to sleep.
It was probably just a joke that hadn’t landed right.
—--------------------
The second time it happened, he had to admit something was up.
Daigo was still stuck at the hospital. It had been a few days since the Dream Line fiasco, and he had been doing better. Not good enough to be set free any time soon, not with how badly he had fucked up his stitches on his last outing, but knowing that he, along with everyone else he cared about, was mostly okay… That was something. An unexpected ending to the latest crisis, one he was all too thankful to have.
Sure, he got a few upsetting visits from various subordinates informing him that HQ was in shambles, that a lot of Tojo men were either dead or seriously wounded, the usual frowning faces and trembling hands, but it could have been so, so much worse. Daigo knew he liked this hospital stay way better than his last.
And Shinada kept visiting him.
Which was great, something Daigo was looking forward to each day, but after his fourth visit, he had to ask what he was even doing in Tokyo. Wasn’t he in a hurry to get home, to tie up a few loose ends back there? He had put everything on hold to rush into that clan-related mess, surely he had better things to do than to lose a couple of hours every day in this damned hospital.
Shinada’s answer shouldn’t have surprised him, but his frown still deepened as his old classmate explained, fiddling with the can of soda he had bought with him today, “Ah… Honestly? I don’t have enough cash to catch a train back home.”
With what felt like endless funds since the day he had been born in his metaphorical pockets, Daigo couldn’t quite imagine what being stranded somewhere because you couldn’t pay to leave felt like. He knew he didn’t like the way Shinada chuckled after that, clearly embarrassed.
“I see. Well, I can buy you a ticket, if that’s all.” Worried that his patronizing charity would be once more badly received, he quickly added, “You’re here because of me, that’s only fair that I cover your expenses.”
“Nah, I’m good ! Akiyama already told he could lend me a little dough, and, like, I would have said yes, but…” Shinada shrugged, and his voice took a slightly more serious tone, “Well, the deadline is super close, I wouldn’t be able to pay either of you back before the end.”
This time, there was no ignoring it. Daigo had been lucid enough to hold an actual conversation for some time since their first talk, and he could now confirm something wasn’t right.
“The deadline…?” he repeated hesitantly.
“Yeah,” Shinada simply said, “You know? The end of the world?”
The end of the world.
So.
Daigo wasn’t very good with jokes. Apparently, Shinada wasn’t either, as his delivery hadn’t really been all that funny. In fact, he sounded pretty serious.
Struggling with what attitude to adopt, Daigo found himself repeating the other man’s words stupidly again. “The… End of the world.”
“Uh huh.”
A long, awkward silence followed, and Daigo’s stupefaction must have been showing on his face, because this prompted his friend to launch himself into a long, confused and frankly far-fetched explanation - something about the Mayan calendar ending, about a solar maximum (whatever that was), black-holes and cataclysmic events…
Obviously, Daigo was aware that a sizable percentage of the population believed in these things. 2012 was about to end. And, according to a few lunatics, so was the world. You’d have to be living under a rock to have missed the increasingly annoying end of the world mania.
The media was going wild with that end of the world thing, and, of course, the Tojo Clan had been making the most out of it. Civilians who were convinced they were going to die soon were way too happy to spend their life savings in the clan’s gambling halls and clubs. And those who wanted to escape their impending dooms bought all sorts of stupid crap - bunkers and weapons, that the nice and helpful yakuza were more than willing to provide.
Not that the Clan itself was immune to the collective paranoia. Even in its ranks, even when they were largely profiting from the fear of their fellow men, you could always hear whispers in Tojo headquarters. What if it’s true? What if none of this matters? Idiots and gullible morons, the clan had plenty of those. Easy targets for something as ridiculous as an end of the world craze.
Daigo had watched the debacle from afar with nothing but contempt. The role of the disdainful mob boss who belittled civilians or scoffed at his underlings was never one he had liked to play, but… Surely, he couldn’t be blamed for taking such a stance. Not when the good people of Kamurocho and a sizable chunk of his own men were busy panicking over nothing. It was tempting to think of yourself as inherently smarter than the masses, faced with such a ludicrous situation. He wasn’t noble and tolerant like Kiryu - every now and then, despite his best effort to be patient, Daigo couldn’t help but feel like he was surrounded by incompetent morons.
But to have someone he looked up to, that he had put on a shiny little pedestal in a corner of his brain through all these years and that he was dying to get to know for real… To have this man he admired tell him he was convinced that the planet they lived on was going to explode because some dead guys said so thousands of years ago…
It was humbling.
Incredibly annoying, too.
As he stared at his old classmate who was struggling to explain some new bogus concepts to him, Daigo had to admit that he was, when all was said and done, infatuated with someone who might have been a little dumb.
Worse, it was evident Shinada was honestly worried about the incoming cataclysm - he talked about it with urgency, like the idea truly unnerved him. This irritated Daigo more than anything.To think that he was getting worked up over a blatant scam, that real fear that everything was about to end had clouded his mind… It was absurd.
So instead of arguing back, instead of saying anything, he stayed motionless in his bed, completely dumbfounded, letting Shinada explain why (and how) the world was doomed.
—--------------------
It kept happening.
Every visit and every conversation seemed to lead to it - the end of the world. That Shinada was firmly convinced was coming.
After his initial shock, Daigo tried various approaches. On one day, he would scoff at the idea, on another he’d be a little more blunt with how ridiculous he thought it all was, the next day he’d try to subtly insert some skepticism into the debate…
It was all pointless though. Shinada wouldn’t budge. Daigo already knew he was stubborn, enough to want to fight a scary yakuza just to tag along on a dangerous journey, but this was absurd.
No matter how much they argued, the end of the world was still scheduled in his mind, and no amount of talking about it would change that. Sometimes he would admit he wasn’t exactly sure how it was all going to go down, sometimes it felt like maybe he got aware of how grotesque this all was, but at the end of the day, he stood his ground. Every attempt to tackle the issue with cold hard facts seemed pointless, and no amount of sneering at the mere concept of the apocalypse managed to make the man change his mind.
Daigo ended up wondering if this entire thing was some kind of cosmic punishment, something the gods cooked up specifically to torture him. He had enough blood on his hands to have angered an entire pantheon of divinities, after all. It wouldn’t be that far-fetched to imagine he’d be cursed.
Still, after what felt like the hundred times they argued about it, Daigo had to ask himself if he really deserved this. This story was maddening, and being stuck in a hospital bed all day only to try to be told about some asinine conspiracy theory… It got on his nerves. Hard.
Eventually, he had to give up to focus on a more tangible problem - Shinada’s current housing situation. From what Daigo had gathered, he was more or less crashing wherever he could. That bar that Kiryu and his pals hung out at, the couch in Akiyama’s office… Subpar bedding options at best, but Shinada swore he didn’t mind, unwilling to bother with a hotel when he was broke… And when his lack of a good night of sleep wouldn’t matter soon anyway. Since the world was ending.
This too angered Daigo more than anything. He hated to think that Shinada was simply hanging around because he was convinced there’d be nothing left of the planet in a few days.
It took a few tries, but he eventually managed to convince him to take his keys. An offer that was met with a lot of protestation, annoyingly enough.
“Aw, but I’d feel bad to be squatting in your place, I told you I can’t repay you before-”
“I’m aware. It’s not like it costs me anything to let you borrow my couch, right?” Daigo abruptly cut him off, not bothering to hide how irked he was. He felt bad about it almost immediately, clearing his throat. “If it’s so important to you, you can always repay me later if…” It cost him everything to say those next few words, “If the world is still here next week.”
The keys dangling in his hands, Shinada still looked dubious. “Okay, but… I don’t want to take advantage of you or anything. You’ve already done a lot for me.”
“And you haven’t? Let’s say this is me paying you back for helping me with the whole Omi mess.”
The words hung in the air a bit longer than they should have, and an unpleasant thought started forming in Daigo’s mind. He dared to ask, “You didn’t… Do all of that. Coming here, fighting those men…” He could have added ‘Risking your life’, ‘Meddling with forces beyond your comprehension’ but couldn’t quite bother to try, instead jumping straight to the hard hitting question, “Just because you believe the world is going to end soon, right?”
With how irritated he had been everytime the subject was brought up, Daigo had never really taken the time to ask himself if the recklessness Shinada had shown after their reunion could have been attributed to his belief that the world was expiring in a week or so. It was a nasty thought, one that shone a terrible new light on everything that had happened that fateful night.
He really, really wanted Shinada to allay his fears and to laugh at the idea he would do such a thing, but sadly he just went, “Uuuuh…”
“Fucking hell,” Daigo muttered under his breath.
“No, huh… You know, I wasn’t really thinking about it, back then,” Shinada explained, fidgeting with the keys he was still holding. “I just rushed into it without a second thought, I guess. But it’s good, I wanted to help. And I got… I got closure. With Sawada, the coach, the entire town. It’s… More than I thought I’d ever get.”
“Tatsuo-”
“I got to put my dream to rest, and reclaim that homerun. I’m thankful for that. The world can end now. No regrets !”
Had he not been laying down with delicate stitches still carved in his flesh, Daigo would have punched him. To hear him invoke his dream and the world’s end in the same breath was particularly infuriating - Daigo was torn between his fondness for that man, hearing him talk about closure making his heart sink, and his irritation, the one that overtook him whenever the upcoming apocalypse was brought up.
But since he couldn’t decide if he should finally burst a blood vessel or apologize some more, he simply repeated, “No regrets…”
—--------------------
On the 21 of December, Daigo was free.
He had been for a couple of days. His doctor had finally let him out after making him promise to take things slow. They were incredibly lenient with obvious yakuza top dogs, these doctors. Daigo was aware a normal civilian might have been asked to stay a bit longer. His bullet wound was still healing. Sure, he was in a good enough shape to leave that horrid hospital bed behind, but that was pretty much it. It hurt to stand, it hurt to sit, and his stamina felt inexistent. It took all his might to manage to stay still during meetings, to ignore the sting gnawing at him.
All things considered, it probably would have been reasonable to lay low some more.
But recent events had taught him it wasn’t wise to stay away from the clan for too long. The risks of insurrection got higher with each day the chairman wasn’t sitting on his throne. The wolves hiding in the Tojo ranks were not going to take ‘Oh, I couldn’t come to work today, my tummy hurt’ as an excuse - they would tear him apart at the first sign of weakness. Daigo remembered all too well what had happened last time he had the audacity to get injured. Sure, his oath brother was not here anymore to turn on him the second he got hurt, but plenty of other traitors would be happy to take his place. And Daigo wasn’t exactly looking forward to a second episode of backstabbing and destruction.
It was vital to get back to work.
So he did just that, and, despite the soreness in his body making it hard to get through each day, made a point to show his men he was still standing. The hours were long at Tojo HQ, and Kurosawa’s stupid game had left the clan in a sorry state, making Daigo feel like everything needed to be built from the ground up… For, what, the second or third time since he got to lead the clan?
He was exhausted.
Even when he wasn’t presiding over endless meetings with his few remaining patriarchs, or hounding down new investors and allies to help the clan regain some funds, Daigo was working. He had been out of the hospital for less than a week, and he had already pulled several all-nighters trying to fix his trash fire of a clan. And when he allowed himself to get back to his quarters for the night, it was with a pile of work that kept him awake and alert late into the evening.
Tonight was no exception, and he was sitting in bed with his laptop, glaring at the mails that kept piling up. A proof that the clan never really slept… And neither did their chairman. He’d have to answer a couple of those before he could even think about calling it a night. Start preparing for tomorrow’s first meeting too, if he could find the time to before he collapsed.
There was some form of silver lining to all of this, at least. He was tired and work was hellish, but he got to go home to Shinada each night. The former baseball player still hadn’t left, his protests about crashing at Daigo’s place forgotten about. He had even toned down the world’s end talk, so the cohabitation was going swimmingly.
In fact, it was going well enough for Daigo to almost forget about the issue, which made him come down to earth with a bang when a distressed Shinada came knocking on his bedroom door.
“Hey,” he said as he barged in, “You’re not sleeping?”
Daigo darted a quick glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was barely nine o’clock, on a friday night. He still had his mountain of work to finish, with unread mails and texts to send to various associates waiting for him - sleep wouldn’t be an option before a few more hours of labor. And, if the ruckus he made each night when he watched TV in the living room was anything to go by, Shinada didn’t exactly like to go to bed early either.
It took Daigo a few seconds to connect the dots - numbed down by his workday, his brain was finding it tricky to make a connection between Shinada invading his room with an highly uncharacteristic hesitation, and today’s date, but when it finally clicked, all he managed to do was frown.
Right.
The end of the world thing.
Standing awkwardly at the doorstep, in that oversized t-shirt and (Daigo’s frown deepened) the boxers he wore to sleep, Shinada looked like a trapped animal, scanning the room with a worried eye. “‘Kay, so, I’m sort of freaking out.”
“I can see that,” Daigo said, setting his laptop aside on the nearby nightstand. He could almost hear it complaining as he closed its lid. Those mails would have to wait. “Do you want to-”
He was about to offer some form of distraction. Grabbing something to eat, watching a movie… Something, anything to clear his mind. Daigo was still debating with himself on what activity would be better suited for a friend on the verge of a meltdown when Shinada made a move.
His only warning was a mumbled “Sorry, mind if I just-” then he got in the bed next to him. Not on the bed - Daigo gave a bewildered glare as he watched him slide under the blankets like it was nothing out of the ordinary. It was obvious he wasn’t that comfortable, each of his movements a bit too stiff, but he still stretched obnoxiously once he was settled, his leg brushing over Daigo’s in the process.
Normally, he would have punished severely such an invasion of his personal space. He should have. All he managed to blurt out was a confused “Erm-”
“Can I stay with you?” Shinada asked, a ridiculously useless question when he was already in bed. That ship had more or less already sailed, and Daigo knew he couldn’t exactly chase him. Not when he looked so pathetically desperate as he lifted his head towards him. “Please?”
Just like he did back when they fought, Daigo was quick to admit defeat. “A…Alright. But I have some work to finish, I-”
Truthfully, he wasn’t all too worried about work piling up anymore. It wasn’t like he was in a position where he could get yelled at for letting some mail unread. Who in their right mind would risk angering the sixth chairman of the Tojo clan? Working overtime, that was something he inflicted on himself. Technically, he could take a break. Focus on this bizarre new crisis instead.
But as Daigo gestured uselessly at his laptop, he was all too aware of the awkwardness of the situation. There was something inherently intimate about having someone in your bed, even if that someone was about to flip out for the stupidest thing imaginable. Or when that someone was the guy you used to obsess about in high school… Daigo shook his head - he didn’t need to work, but he needed a distraction from the confused explosion of thoughts swirling in his poor tired brain.
“It’s okay, I’ll keep myself busy,” Shinada said, pulling a banged up smartphone from god knows where. “I just… Don’t want to be alone.”
There was no arguing with that. Trying his hardest to act natural, Daigo returned to his mails, keeping an eye on Shinada as he settled into place. He wasted no time sinking into the pillow lined up on the headboard, using the many layers of blankets and his own body to create a small mount to prop his phone up. Once the device was secured, he started mindlessly scrolling down on some social media app, and Daigo tried to focus on his own screen again.
He managed fine for however long the silence lasted. Time had gotten weird ever since Shinada had walked into the room, and Daigo had trouble telling how long they’ve been quiet for. He kept checking the clock on his laptop, but each minute felt awfully drawn-out, like the computer was seriously lagging. After a while, he decided not to pay attention to it anymore, diving into a particularly mind-numbing report, hoping this would dull his brain enough not to think too hard about the weirdness of the scene.
All his efforts went down the drain when Shinada started showing signs of agitation.
It was small, at first. He had looked relaxed enough so far, huddled in the covers like he owned the place, but it soon became obvious it was all an act. No matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes on his laptop, Daigo kept being distracted by how much his friend was fidgeting. He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the edges of his phone, he kept moving his legs, shifting into place restlessly, and it was only when he pretty much dropped the phone that he noticed he was being stared at.
“Ah. Sorry,” he said as he picked up the device again, turning on the sound inadvertently. What was clearly a baseball announcer’s voice came out of the shitty speakers.
“No, it’s alright…” Daigo reassured him, craning his neck to get a look at the small screen. He was watching one of those compilations of oddities and funny moments, with clips of silly baseball related incidents. Not what Daigo would have expected Shinada to enjoy, with how seriously he took the game, but this was something he could comment on, at least. “Baseball bloopers, huh?”
“I’m too nervous to watch a real game.” Shinada shrugged as a catcher fell down dramatically in the video. “These are sort of funny.”
Daigo was about to bounce back on that, when he noticed how shitty that video looked. Shinada’s phone was obviously an older model, with a tiny, low-resolution screen. It was cracked too. All in all, it was not the kind of gizmo one should stare at for too long. The mere sight of it was already hurting Daigo’s eyes.
Tilting his laptop slightly, Daigo asked, “Do you want to watch something on this instead?”
Shinada raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t you supposed to be working?”
“Well. Yes. But I really shouldn’t be displaying sensitive documents when… Civilian eyes are prying. So I guess it’s only a matter of safety if I take a break.”
Truthfully, the boring report he had opened and gave up on reading wasn’t all that sensitive. Or important. And it wasn’t like he’d ever worry that Shinada would tattle to his (many, many, many) enemies. Not that it mattered, because he called his bluff right away, scoffing, “Safety, right. Like my civilian eyes can even tell what you’re doing. Unless they’re baseball stats, excel sheets don’t mean shit to me.”
Despite his dubious look, Shinada put his phone away, simply dropping it on the floor. No wonder that thing’s screen was broken.
“My battery was about to die anyway. Hey, I know what we could watch !”
And just like that, the deal was sealed. Daigo obediently typed what he was told to summon a new baseball related video, closing the rest of the tabs he had opened, and, with them, all his will to finish his work tonight. If anyone was monitoring that computer, like a PSIA agent or something, they must have been puzzled by this development. Daigo couldn’t remember ever using that laptop for anything fun before. He was pretty sure that thing had never even played a video before, and suddenly it was forced to load up youtube compilations and bootleg recordings of various tv drama clips. That poor computer was entering uncharted territory right now… And so was Daigo.
Glancing at Shinada as he cracked a joke at the crummy acting skills of some random actor, Daigo felt overwhelmed with his affection for the former baseball player. Of course, he wished the bizarre circumstances that had led him to crash in his bed were different, but he’d be a fool to pretend he wasn’t enjoying this. It felt good. And to realize he was overjoyed by something as ridiculously mundane as watching some crap on the computer with someone… It was a highly depressing thought, one only the most emotionally neglected 40 years old moron could have, but still. This was what having a friend must have felt like. Daigo never had one before, not one who didn’t try to take advantage of him at least. Or kill him. Sometimes both.
Making a small mental note to send someone to clean up Mine’s grave tomorrow, just in case his oath brother’s spirit wanted to come back to hurt him some more, he slowly stretched, careful not to topple the computer… Or to strain his wounded side. It was easier said than done, and Daigo awkwardly bumped into Shinada a few times as he did. The bed was far from small, king size with plenty of extra room for someone who slept alone, but it still felt a little cramped right now, with how big they both were. Not that it would have mattered if the bed had been twice as big, because Shinada was obviously not bothered by all that proximity.
In fact, once Daigo was done repositioning himself, he came closer, casually resting his chin on his shoulder, a yawn in his voice as he said, “Aw, I love this part.”
Frozen in place, fearing that the smallest movement would end whatever this was, Daigo was ashamed to realize he had been entirely too busy spiraling to even know what they were watching anymore. It was obviously a drama of some kind, with two actors arguing loudly on the screen, but he couldn’t get into it anymore. Not with the warmth of someone he held so dear against him.
So he stood still, distractedly listening to Shinada’s comments as the episode (was it an episode or a movie? Daigo couldn’t tell) kept going, until his voice got a tad more serious, “Just a couple of hours before midnight.”
Confused, Daigo stared at the clock. It was late, true, but he wasn’t sure why this realization made Shinada look so gloomy all of a sudden.
“Remember? End of the World?” It was Daigo’s turn to frown. He had been pacified by the scene, so much so that he had managed to forget about this stupid crap. And he had naïveley thought that Shinada had been distracted enough to do the same, but he sounded worried once more as he added,“Shit is going down at midnight, I’m sure of it.”
Annoyed, Daigo still managed to ask, “...Why?”
“Uh, because stuff like that always happens at midnight. And because, after midnight, we won’t be the 21st anymore and then that would be it.”
“That’s…” Biting back what he really wanted to say (‘That’s dumb as shit and you’re a bloody moron’), Daigo tried his hardest to be tactful, “You do realize the… People. Who made those predictions you’re freaking out about-”
Shinada had the gall to correct him, “The mayans.”
“Yes. Well. They lived on another continent. In a different time zone. They weren’t even aware we existed.”
“So?”
“So why would their stupid prophecy match our clock?”
Faced with the incongruity of his opinion, Shinada shot him a furious look. Which would have looked intimidating had he not been still slumped against him, warm and way too comfortable with all this closeness as he whined, “Listen, I know it’s dumb okay? Doesn’t mean I’m not spooked.”
It was more than just ‘dumb’ - Everything about tonight was surreal ! The entire end of the world schtick had been, really, and Daigo couldn’t believe something as ludicrously dumb had taken such a place in his life these past few days. And they were discussing this in bed, casually, like it was just a perfectly anodyne little domestic scene. Like Shinada’s mere presence wasn’t enough to make his brain short-circuit.
Fearing that overthinking was going to make him reach a dangerous conclusion, Daigo felt obligated to change the subject, asking bluntly, “How did you even survive the Y2K scare?”
Now THAT was a real scam. Daigo remembered how he had been a little more involved in this one. It could have been because he was drunk 24/7 back then, and thus a little bit more susceptible, but still. That 2012 crap had nothing on the 2000 glitch.
And yes, technically it wasn’t REALLY changing the subject, but maybe this new approach would work? Evoking the same kind of crisis, and remembering how nothing happened in the end…?
Shinada was lost in thought for a few seconds, and Daigo hoped it meant he was reminiscing about that night and reaching the conclusion that would make him perk up again. Unfortunately, all he did was shrug.
“Uh, I got mega drunk and spent the night at Milky’s.” He returned to his own pillow as he said that, and Daigo let go of the breath he hadn’t noticed he had been holding. “She wasn’t so cranky.”
The nerve of that man. Daigo couldn’t believe he was blamed for being a bit too curt when this idiot was taking away years from his lifespan with this endless debate.
He couldn’t believe his first reaction was to apologize, either. “Well, I’m sorry, but… I don’t know what to do.”
A sudden change of color on the laptop caught Daigo’s attention. He still had no idea if what was playing was a tv show or a movie, but either way it was over. Sober black and white closing credits were now flashing up on the screen. And instead of suggesting something else for them to watch, like he had all night, Shinada just sighed. A sad, tired little sigh that made Daigo’s stomach twist. He hurriedly discarded the computer to the side, for the second time of the night, and tried to sound reassuring, “The world didn’t end in 2000 and it’s not going to end tonight.”
“Maybe not,” Shinada said softly. Daigo didn’t dare hope this meant he was trying to come around, and sure enough, the next sentence was a heavy hitter, “But if it does… I sort of feel like I would have wasted my life, you know?”
What the fuck happened to ‘no regrets’?
“Tatsuo…”
“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t go there, I… Shit, it’s just, I remember all those years I was absolutely miserable, you know? And the way everyone lied to me, and the ban and…” Trailing off, Shinada let out another sigh, longer than the last. “I can’t help but think, ‘wow, that’s all I'm going to get, huh?’. If it all ends tonight, I mean.”
Oh, if Daigo could get the guy that started the end of the world rumor in the first place… He would rip that fucker to shreds. Conspiracy theorists and scam artists already didn’t rank high on his lists of favorite people (not that he couldn’t see the irony - what was a yakuza, if not a massive scammer?) but to think that someone like that was to blame for putting those thoughts into his precious Tatsuo’s head…
Random bursts of violence aimed at an imaginary target helped no one though, so Daigo cleared his throat. Surely there was a way to talk his way out of this depressing situation. He was good at motivational speeches, he had been told. Wasn’t this how he got to rule the Tojo in the first place? Trying to convince someone his life was worth something, apocalypse or not, was a bit different than riling up a pack of violent criminals, but he might as well try.
“I was… Sort of thinking the same thing, during the 2000 debacle.”
“Huh? You were?” This got Shinada to smile, at least. “I thought you were a proud skeptic, an unshakeable mister know-it-all.”
Daigo sneered. He sort of deserved that, he supposed. “I never really believed the world was going to end. But I thought… That if it did… Well, that I would have done nothing but rot in dirty Kamurocho alleyways for most of my adult life.”
Now, it wasn’t the strongest start to a plea meant to win someone over and help them put things into perspective, but Daigo was still warming up. Showing he too had felt the same at some point, albeit a bit less intensely, that was worth some points, surely. His own dry period was terribly tame next to Shinada’s, who had suffered for years in extreme poverty after losing all his hopes and dreams. Daigo might have been extremely miserable back in 2000, but being rich enough to drown his sorrows in alcohol and other vices did help.
Shinada wasn’t offended by the comparison anyway, and he asked, “And how did you cope?”
“I… Also got drunk. And then I-” Biting his tongue, Daigo seriously considered making some shit up. The truth was embarrassing, definitely not something a life-hardened yakuza like him would share, not even under torture. And yet, it was the perfect segue into a more serious, honest argument. So he took the plunge and admitted, “I watched a recording of your Wyvern game.”
The mortifying image it brought to his mind (him sitting alone in his depressingly empty studio, watching an old baseball game curled up in a bed full of empty beer bottles) was enough to make him cringe, but Daigo managed to shrug it off, daring to cast a glance at Shinada again. He looked stunned, staring at him blankly. “...Uh?”
“I didn’t… Have a recording of the Koshien game. It was so long ago… But I kept a taped copy of the ‘97 one, even after I learned of your ban.” That particular tape had somehow survived to this day. Hell, it was the only reason Daigo still owned a VCR, an ugly old thing that clashed horribly with his minimalist and dull home interior. “It… Helped soothe me. Rewatching that, and pretending I had something to do with it.”
He wished Shinada would interrupt him already. Going on and on about deeply personal matters was not completely new for him, but Daigo had to admit it was easier to share that kind of thing when you weren’t stuck in bed with the object of your affection. He had opened up more than enough back in Nagoya, but he hadn’t felt nearly as vulnerable then. And since Shinada was not in a hurry to cut him off, he kept going, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach, “I meant it when I said that homerun saved my life back in Nagoya. I don’t know what I would have done without that memory, whenever times got tough.”
He had more or less admitted this when they were first reunited, but it didn’t hurt to repeat it, even if words failed him at the moment. Technically, it wasn’t even the right homerun. That one incredible hit that got Shinada banned from the game he loved had been amazing in its own right, of course, but it paled in comparison with the only home run their team scored at Koshien.
What this one homerun meant to him was indescribable.
It wasn’t just something that had warmed his soul back when Daigo had vaguely entertained the idea that the world was about to explode because of a computer glitch. It was the one thing holding him together through those years he spent drowning himself in alcohol, convinced Kiryu had killed his father. Through his stint in jail, when the stifling routine was almost enough to drive him crazy. It also helped him deal with Kiryu returning to his life, only to leave him again right after dumping the weight of the world on his shoulders. And with Mine’s betrayal. And with his next falling out with Kiryu.
That fateful homerun had always been here, at the back of his mind, helping him hold on whenever he needed to pick up the pieces of the clan -and of himself- time after time. He would have never survived those hardships without that one small glimpse of bliss he kept stored in his mind at all times.
“So… If this is any consolation, I don’t think you wasted your life. I know you made mine better.” That had to be the most depressing consolation prize ever. ‘Sorry you lost your dreams, but if it makes you feel any better, you helped the monstrous yakuza leading the biggest criminal organization of the country to feel good’. What a joke. Daigo hurried to add, “I’m sure I’m not the only one you had such an impact on. I told you, you inspire people.”
Now, Daigo wasn’t expecting a total and immediate change of heart from Shinada. If he was lucky, he’d start mocking him for being so wordy. Crack a joke, start some of their usual banter… He’d even be okay with him getting mad at him, like he did last time he talked out of his ass like that. It would hurt both his pride and his already roughed-up body, but that would be better than nothing.
Like he often did, Shinada ended up throwing him a curveball instead, with that dumb smile plastered on his face, “Hey, you wanna boink?”
“...What?”
“You know. Bumping uglies. Doing the nasty. Taking a lil trip to pound town. Shag, bone, bang, screw... You know !!” Every entry in that enumeration of not so subtle innuendos made Daigo feel like he had been punched in the face. He stared at his friend in disbelief while he nonchalantly stretched his legs, “I know that would help me relax. Let out some steam. I wouldn’t be bringing my A game, but I promise you’ll have a good time.”
How his tearful homerun story had prompted this response, Daigo had no idea. He swallowed the lump in his throat, “I doubt that’s a good idea. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Eheh,” Shinada sniggered, elbowing him. “I never am.”
“No, I mean…” Daigo trailed off, struggling to organize his thoughts. He couldn’t believe he had ended up in such a stupid situation, one where he felt obligated to say no to something he only ever dreamed would happen. What a dreadful night. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you when you’re obviously in a vulnerable state of mind.”
“Aaaah but I’m the one asking !”
“Right. And I’m the one putting my foot down though, so…”
“You’re mean.” He put plenty of emphasis on the ‘mean’, like a petulant child. Daigo would have loved to say that throwing tantrums wouldn’t help, but his mouth felt a little too dry at the moment. “You can’t just say all those nice things about home runs and all and then turn me down !”
“Sure I can.” Worse, he had to.
A few seconds passed, and while Shinada was very busy doing what could only be described as sulking, Daigo was trying his hardest to keep it at that. He’d done the right thing, being the one responsible moron in the room, and that was it.
And yet he heard himself mumble, “If… If you still wanna, tomorrow…”
Cringing at his own forwardness, he dared to glance at Shinada, who had folded his arms on his chest in an almost comical way, still clearly pouting. “Aw man, I’m going to be so mad if we do die.”
A rather bothersome fluttering in the pit of Daigo’s stomach made it hard to focus again. To hear Shinada imply not having sex with him was something worth lamenting over, that was… A lot to unpack. He didn’t feel emotionally equipped enough to do so. Not now, at least. Not when he was struggling to turn him down.
Fortunately, a distraction came in the form of a loud bang outside. It wasn’t deafening by any means, probably just the result of a few civilians feeling cheeky and playing with some illegal fireworks, but it was enough to make Shinada tense up again. Daigo saw an opportunity to tease him for this - surely, even in his semi-panicked state, he would see how silly it was for a grown man to jump at the smallest sound like a scared labrador during a thunderstorm. He might get offended, but Daigo would rather see him angry than all sultry and spouting indecent proposals.
All that overthinking must have taken less than a couple of heartbeats, but it didn’t take more for Shinada to pull the rug out from under him once more. Next thing Daigo knew, the man had more or less jumped into his arms. And he was holding on tight, his muscular arms effectively trapping him in place.
Finding it hard to breathe with that vice compressing his chest, Daigo wheezed, “That was just… A firecracker or something.”
“Pretty loud for a firecracker, don’t you think? And how come we heard it at all, we’re at the top of that big fancy-schmancy apartment complex, it’s supposed to be quiet in this dump !”
That… Was a good point. Far away from the ruckus of the city, this condo and the peaceful area it was nestled in were the definition of quiet. A bit too dead for Daigo’s liking sometimes. Getting used to the lack of noise had been hard, when he had basically lived in the rowdy streets of Kamurocho during his formative years.
“Could be the neighbors,” he suggested, though he had doubts he even had neighbors within earshot. They were either extremely silent, or they had run away the second they caught wind of the big bad yakuza and his legion of bodyguards moving in.
“Could be Armageddon,” Shinada said in the same tone, tightening his hold on Daigo.
‘Armageddon’ sure was a word Daigo would have never expected to hear Shinada say, but commenting on his sparkling new vocabulary wasn’t exactly his top priority. Finding a way to escape his grasp was a little more urgent. He was starting to feel dizzy.
“Le… Let go, please? You squeeze me any harder, my stitches will pop.” Wouldn't that be a fun way to end the evening? Screw the end of the world. Being bear-hugged to death, that was a real way to go.
“Sorry, sorry,” Shinada muttered, thankfully backing down. He wasn’t that charitable of a soul to completely return to his side of the bed, his body still huddled against Daigo, but this was a start. “You’re not even a little bit worried?”
“No.” That was obviously a lie. He was worried. Less about the end of the world than the possibility of his silly little crush being less one-sided than he thought, true, but Daigo was more apprehensive than ever. He was not about to show it, though, so he kept talking, “We’re in a skyscraper filled with bodyguards on every single floor. A word from me and they swarm the place. Nothing can get us here.”
“Bodyguards will mean jackshit when the sun eats the planet,” Shinada shot back without missing a beat.
“How about you try to sleep, Tatsuo?”
“I’ll never be able to sleep, how could I-” He trailed off, and Daigo feared it meant he was about to bring up the sex thing again. Instead, he said, “Your bed sucks.”
“My… What?”
“It’s too high up, too soft, I hate it ! How can you even sleep in this?” That stupid pout was back on his face. Daigo had no idea how, but he was starting to find this extremely endearing. “A futon, that’s a real bed.”
“I’m sorry, you’re calling the soggy mess you have back in Nagoya a ‘real bed’?”
“It’s cozy.” It might have been classism talking, but Daigo couldn’t see how anyone could call anything in Shinada’s tiny and cluttered living space ‘cozy’. That ruin of a futon, with its questionable stains and dirty sheets, was no match for his bed ! “I feel like I can’t move in those fancy sheets.”
“Don’t move then,” Daigo curtly said. He might have been a little offended on behalf of his bed. “Sleep.”
Shinada wriggled around a bit at this, coming to rest his chin on Daigo’s shoulder again. He almost looked like he was ready to obey for once, that he was just making himself comfortable, but sure enough, he soon asked, “You sure you don’t wanna have sex?”
All Daigo could manage this time was an exasperated sigh. His ‘I angered some vengeful divinity and they’re punishing me’ theory didn’t sound so far-fetched now. Having to repeatedly turn down that guy he’s always dreamt of seducing, that was a special kind of purgatory.
“I mean, I might have misread some of your signals or whatever, but I sort of let myself believe you’d be into the idea,” Sustaining his momentum, Shinada kept going, unaware of the way each word coming out of his mouth made Daigo’s head spin a little more. “And, not to brag, but I’m a dang good lay !”
I bet you are, Daigo almost shot back, remembering all too clearly the embarrassing warmth under his skin when he had found out what Shinada was actually doing for a living. To dwell on that was a bad idea, and so was taking the bait at all, but he still asked, “...Signals?”
“Yeah, like… That stuff back in Nagoya about finding me after all those years, the talks about dreams and being inspired and all, and letting me live here and hanging out… I don’t know, maybe I’m just being vain but…” He winked. Daigo wanted to smother him. “You seemed a little interested, at least.”
“I am, it’s…” Biting his tongue, mortified by what he was admitting, Daigo vowed not to let that stop him. He was the most powerful criminal in the country, for fuck’s sake, he could shake the embarrassment off long enough to say the right thing. “You’re stressed and scared. I can’t just ignore this and do… That. When you’re not in the right headspace.”
Part of him also wanted to add that, even without the crazy end of the world context, he wasn’t really into the idea of fucking for the sake of it, devoid of consequences and changes in the participants’ dynamic. Whenever Daigo allowed himself to fantasize about his first time with Shinada, something he never thought had any chance of happening, he always envisioned a moment a tad more meaningful than a quick screw to relieve tension. No matter how dreadfully cheesy that sounded.
Not getting the hint, Shinada was still stuck in begging mode. “C’mooooon, please? Pretty please? I’ll be really good, and I’ll do all the freakish weird stuff you want. Promise !”
Daigo felt the heat go to his face. “Fucking hell, you can’t just say stuff like th-”
“Or you know. Maybe not. I’m down for vanilla stuff too, I don’t care.”
“Please, stop talking.”
The silence didn’t even last more than a heartbeat this time, as Shinada asserted with a smug grin, “Just saying, I usually shut up when I’m sucking dick.”
“Usually,” Daigo repeated, not bothering to hide his annoyance anymore.
“I mean, I do talk when I do that sometimes, not gonna lie.” Such crassness should have been a turn-off. Daigo couldn’t quite grasp why it wasn’t the case here, but as Shinada’s voice dropped low in an attempt to sound sensual, he had to admit it worked… A little too well. “Guys like it though. Hearing me choke on their length.”
It was too powerful of a mental picture. Daigo had no choice but to spur into action, and he bonked him on the head. A little harsh, perhaps, but it was either that or acknowledging the fact this insane discussion had made him a little bit more worked up than he would have liked. “Quit it.”
“Ow. Sorry.” Rubbing a hand on his head, Shinada shot him an apologetic smile, “I’m overdoing it, huh?”
Daigo gave a weak smile in return. If he had to be stuck in bed with an horny idiot, he was glad it was this one. “Just a tad.”
“I don’t wanna be pushy, I just…” Finally scooting over, it seemed like Shinada was giving up, back on his pillow just in time for him to wistfully mutter, “I really wanna.”
“I got that. You’re going to have to grin and bear it, I’m afraid,” Daigo said, despite knowing very well he too was going to be forced to suffer in silence and ignore his low passions for now. He crossed his legs just to be safe.
Shinada had not yet said his last word though, “It’s not just me flinging myself at the nearest body, you know? I do really like you.”
This particular string of words should have hit harder than a dozen punches, yet Daigo found himself answering right away, not letting the small heart attack that threatened to take him out faze him, “I do too. Let’s keep it at that for now, alright?”
“Aw, man… I’m never going to fall asleep anyway, you might as well-”
That sentence sounded dangerously like the start of another round of senseless back and forth, so Daigo decided to shut it down, “Turn around.”
“Oh?” That might have sounded too much like an order. Shinada’s sultry tone was back as he thankfully obeyed, laying on his side to face the wall instead with a high-pitched and annoyingly playful “Whyyyy?”
It was Daigo’s turn to make a move, and he came close, wrapping his arms around him. Now, it was probably not the brightest idea to opt to be the big spoon when you were trying to hide a raging boner. And that small hitch in Shinada’s breathing told him he might have misinterpreted the gesture. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m just trying to get you to calm down.”
“Hmf. Alright,” Shinada said, a little too cheerfully. Daigo briefly wondered why, then he felt him openly grinding against him, letting out a silly cackle as he no doubt felt something a little stiff against his backside, “Eheheh.”
“Knock it off,” Daigo hissed. “Sleep.”
“Jeez, yes sir.” With that, Shinada wriggled around some more, though he was simply repositioning himself this time. Daigo was overjoyed to see he was done being an annoying little tease… And less so to hear him whisper, “I’m still a little scared.”
They had danced around the issue for so long Daigo had almost forgotten what had started it all. He lost the stern tone he had used too far to get the man to fall in line, and tried to sound as gentle and convincing as possible, “I’ll watch over you. I promise nothing will get to you.”
“That’s nice, but I don’t think you’ll do much when zombies break in.”
“Oh,” Daigo scoffed. He couldn’t be serious… “There’s a risk of zombies now?”
“Well, duh. Zombies are part of the end of the world package, right? They’re always bound to pop up when shit goes down.”
There was no arguing with that flawless logic. “I see. You can rest easy then. I survived a zombie apocalypse already, I’m sure I could do that again.”
Busy with a stifled yawn, Shinada gave a confused “What?”
“Nothing. Come on now. Try to get some rest.”
It was obvious Shinada was ready to at least attempt to settle down. He still tried one last suggestion, “Or, or, we could stay awake ‘til the final countdown, that way if something does happen-”
“I get up at five tomorrow. I can’t just stay up.”
“Five? Like, five in the morning?” No wonder the mere thought of getting up that early baffled him - from what Daigo could gather, he pretty much always slept in. Shinada was always asleep whenever he left for work, and he remained in bed for most, if not all, of the morning. Being a freelance writer meant he didn’t exactly have to worry about business hours, but still… Daigo couldn’t imagine losing so much time loafing around each day. “Whew ! Talk about a thankless job !”
That was the understatement of the century. But Daigo was not going to be tricked into complaining about his shitty position. They really needed to sleep before slipping once more into dangerous territory. “Anyway, it’s probably better if you’re asleep when midnight rings, right? You won’t even notice it’s happening. I feel like it’d be less stressful.”
He couldn’t really see Shinada’s face in this position, but he felt him stiffen a little at this. He didn’t seem all that convinced. Daigo didn’t know where he got the nerve to do that, but he gave his shoulder a light kiss. And he added a few words of encouragement as well, “Come on. Try, at least.”
“I’ll try, I’ll try. But if you think I’m going to be able to sleep on that brick of a bed with all that spooky shit in my head, you’re dreamin’ pal !”
And yet, less than ten minutes later he was snoring peacefully. Stuck in place, their limbs intertwined and Shinada grasping his arms tightly, Daigo didn’t dare to move, replaying the past few hours in his head instead. Things could have gone smoother, but when all was said and done, he had managed this crisis pretty well. It was only a nifty little bonus that this resulted in the man he held so dear asleep in his arms.
As he listened to Shinada’s slow and regular breathing, Daigo feared he wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep that easily. He wasn’t worried about zombies, the sun exploding or anything so spectacularly catastrophic, but he still felt tense as he held his friend tight, his own breathing more erratic than he would have liked. Several lines had been crossed tonight, with the promise of more come morning…
If the world was still here, of course.
Starting to feel his eyes close after all, Daigo realized he didn’t really care. The world could end. Right now he felt warm and hopeful, better than he had felt in years. So with one last glance at the alarm clock, which told him midnight was only a few minutes away, he drifted off.
—--------------------
Armageddon did come in the end, just not in the form Shinada had predicted.
Because the sun was high in the sky when Daigo woke up for good, to a phone full of missed calls from distressed bodyguards and underlings wondering where he’d gone. So much for waking up at dawn… Dizzily, he typed out a text, sending it like a distress call to Majima :
“I’m going to be late. stall for me.”
‘Late’ was already a pretty generous wording when he should have been at HQ something like five hours ago. Majima’s answer, seconds later, annihilated any hopes of saving face :
“im still hungover lol u sort it out xoxo”
He was about to crush that stupid phone in his hand when some movement on his left got his attention, just in time to see Shinada dramatically facing the windows, both arms raised in triumph.
“Take THAT 2012 ! Shinada Tatsuo lives another day ! AHAH !”
‘Idiot’ was the only word that came to mind to describe such a display of frivolous joy, but as usual Daigo felt nothing but a dangerous overflow of affection making his heart ache. The end of the world debacle had at least taught him one thing - He adored that fool.
He was less fond of the way Shinada suddenly spun around, only to run up to him, basically jumping on the bed to get all in his face. “And good morning to YOU, sir !”
“Good morning Ta-” he started, only to get cut off as a big wet kiss was planted on his cheek.
“Thank you, thank you,” Shinada hummed, covering his face in kisses, “thank youuuu for being here for me last night.”
A bit choked up by this sudden display of affection, Daigo muttered a shaky “You’re welcome…”
“And thanks for not being all ‘I told you so’ too. That’s pretty nice of you.”
He had a point. Some gloating would be more than justified. Daigo wasn’t exactly the smirking type, but he gave a weak grin regardless, “Eh, I could say that. I did tell you things would be fine… Repeatedly.”
“Yeah, well. Who cares, right?” Releasing him, Shinada flopped down on the bed, flat on his back and his smile brighter than ever. “Ah ah, what a time to be alive, huh? I’m supremely late for my Christmas shopping and I don’t even care.”
“I’ll take you shopping today, if you want,” Daigo casually proposed. He was already so late, why even bother with the Clan today? Blowing off those ungrateful idiots to elope with Shinada and go waste time in a mall instead sure sounded great right now. Even if the Hills, Kamurocho’s number one location for shoppers, were most likely going to be swarming with people at this time of the year. It didn’t matter, really. Daigo had privileged access, after all. It helped, being in charge of the organization who had built the damn thing.
“Cool, cool.” Shinada straightened up abruptly, coming close enough to Daigo that their noses almost touched, “You know what I really want, though?”
“A breath mint?” Daigo half-jokingly guessed, losing his smug tone immediately as Shinada started to kiss him again, with a bit more… Intent than earlier. He went for his neck, peppering small kisses there, and going lower, lower…
Technically, nothing was stopping them this time. Doomsday was delayed, they had managed to make it to morning… And yet Daigo heard himself stammer, “Ah… Right now…? Shouldn’t we… I mean…”
“Dang, you’re the king of setbacks, huh?” There was laughter in Shinada’s voice, and he gave him some space again, sitting on his haunches. “What’s wrong now?”
“Well…” Bad morning breath aside, Daigo could think of one or two reasons to take things slow. The night had been long, and he felt gross and sweaty. “Don’t you wanna have breakfast first? Maybe… Clean up a little, before we…”
He trailed off, the implication making his cheeks flush. He didn’t want to admit sex right out of bed was a little too wild for him, as it would probably sound stupid to Shinada, with his presumably incredible and outlandish sex life. Fortunately, the sultry look on his friend’s face disappeared as soon as he heard the word ‘breakfast’.
“You know what, I could use a lil’ snack,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “Didn’t eat much last night, I was so nervous I thought I was going to puke.”
“Alright. I’ll fix us something.” Grabbing his phone again, to send a few vague ‘I am terribly sick, get on without me’ messages to his top patriarchs, Daigo tried to focus on the task at hand. Finding something to satisfy Shinada’s appetite was easy. Much more manageable than getting worked up over the next step of their schedule.
He was doing just fine, and had even managed to get out of the room with nothing else in his mind but a small list of what was left in his fridge that would be breakfast worthy, when Shinada ran after him, clasping a hand on his hip as he passed him.
“Alright, let’s go !” he shouted, “It’s not everyday the end of the world gets postponed, I feel PUMPED !”
With that, he bolted for the kitchen, giving Daigo’s hip a squeeze as he went. Left behind, Daigo seriously considered keeling over right here and there. He felt dizzy with excitement and terrified of making a misstep at the same time, and that incredible warmth in his chest had spread to the rest of his body.
Giving a small mental “Thanks” to whoever had started the end of the world scam, Daigo finally started moving again, ready to take the next curveball fate would throw at him.