The silence between them stretched again—but not in the heavy, suffocating way it had back at the garage. This silence was… soft. Thoughtful. Mikey sat still on bike, eyes on the fading horizon, mouth pressed into a line that was too straight to be relaxed, but too loose to be guarded. He looked… Lost.
And something in that expression hit Takemichi harder than anything else today. So he moved. Slowly. Gently. And without thinking too hard—he leaned in and wrapped his arms around Mikey's shoulders from the side.
Not tight. Not pulling. Just there.
A hug light enough to break free from—but strong enough to be felt. Takemichi half-expected Mikey to stiffen. To shove him off. To make a sarcastic comment. But Mikey didn't move. Didn't say anything. He just… sat there. Letting himself be held and Takemichi stayed still, not even breathing too loudly.
Until finally—"…It's weird."
Mikey's voice was soft. Not confused—just honest.
"I was angry before," he said. "Still kind of am."
He shifted slightly in Takemichi's hold—but didn't pull away.
"But now… around you, I just feel calm. Like… too calm. It's comfortable, but also kinda weird."
Takemichi started to pull back. "Oh—sorry. That might be—"
But Mikey's hand reached up and stopped him, his fingers curling lightly into Takemichi's sleeve.
"Don't," he said. Then, more softly, "It's not bad."
He let the silence settle again.
"…But what is it?"
Takemichi hesitated, glancing off to the side. Then, "I can't tell you."
And he felt it immediately—the slight tension in Mikey's posture. The way his body shifted, just a fraction, like he was bracing to be pushed away again. So Takemichi added quickly, voice low and reassuring: "Not because I don't want to. But because it's a rule. Anyone not in the underworld isn't supposed to know about the specific of the powers. It's to protect us and you, I guess."
That stilled Mikey again for a moment before the tightness eased.
"…Right," Mikey said quietly. "Makes sense."
His hand dropped from Takemichi's sleeve, but the silence between them felt easier now. Warmer. They sat like that for a long moment—Takemichi beside him, one arm still slung gently around his shoulders, the quiet of the park wrapping around them like a blanket.
Then, softly: "…What are you gonna do?"
Takemichi's voice was cautious. Careful.
Mikey didn't look at him.
"About your friends," Takemichi clarified. "The ones that hurt your brother."
Mikey was still. Very still. Then he leaned forward just slightly, elbows braced on the handlebars of his bike, eyes downcast.
"…I don't know," he admitted. His voice was quiet. Scared, in a way he guessed Mikey rarely let show. "I want to talk to them. I want to ask why. I want to hear them say it."
His hands tightened slightly on the grips.
"But I'm afraid," he whispered. "Of how I'll react."
Takemichi didn't move, just listened.
"I've always loved Shin-nii," Mikey said. "Even when he's dumb. Even when he's wrong. Even when he doesn't tell me things."
His voice cracked just a little. Barely there.
"But if I see them… if I see them and all I feel is how close he came to dying—" He looked away, jaw clenched. "…I'm scared I'll stop being able to love them, too."
The words hung there, soft and sharp, like glass balanced on the edge of a table. Takemichi didn't try to fix it or promise it would be okay. He just leaned in again and rested his forehead lightly against Mikey's head.
"You don't have to be ready right away," he said quietly. "But when you are—you won't be alone."
And for a moment—Just one—Mikey relaxed. At least, until they heard the footsteps. At first, Takemichi didn't hear them—but he did feel the shift in the air just before Draken stepped into view.
He didn't say anything at first. Just walked up from the narrow trail that cut through the trees, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, eyes flicking toward them—then away again, giving them space.
He stopped a few feet back.
"They're here," Draken said simply. "Kazutora and Baji. Been sitting on the shrine steps for a while now."
He didn't say you okay?
Didn't say are you ready?
He didn't need to. He was giving Mikey the choice.
Mikey's hands clenched around the handlebars one last time.
Then he pulled himself upright, the lingering calm from Takemichi's Sky still sitting faintly in the air around him like static heat.
He turned his head just enough to glance at Takemichi.
No words. Just a small jerk of his head.
Come on.
Takemichi didn't hesitate. He climbed back onto the bike, settling behind Mikey again, his fingers curling lightly at his sides—no longer afraid he was holding too tight.
The ride was short—barely a minute—but it felt longer, like something was pulling taut in the air ahead of them.
They stopped at the base of the shrine steps, gravel crunching softly beneath the tires. And that's when Takemichi saw them.
Two teens, sitting side by side on the wide stone steps of the small, aging shrine. The late afternoon sun hit them from the side, casting long shadows that stretched up the worn wood of the torii gate.
The teen on the left was all sharp edges—long black hair, brows low over intense eyes, a frown on his lips. He sat with one leg drawn up, arm draped across his knee, tension radiating off him in waves. Like a grenade that hadn't decided whether or not to go off yet.
Baji Keisuke.
The boy beside him was thinner—lankier. Hair long and dyed half-blonde, half-black, falling over one eye like a veil. His expression was harder to read, eyes distant in a way that didn't look cold, just… tired. Not slouched, but not upright either. Like he hadn't quite figured out how to carry his own weight yet.
Kazutora.
Takemichi felt Mikey's posture shift in front of him—tighter, as he stepped off the bike again, this time with a quiet kind of resolve settling in his chest. Not bracing. Not yet.
He didn't know what Mikey was going to say. Didn't know what Baji or Kazutora were ready to say.
But something told him, he needed to stay there.
.
.
Also, if you want to support me and read chapters ahead, go to my p@treon: JorieDS