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Heart had been alive again for all of an hour before he pulled Tomari Shinnosuke aside.
Shinnosuke stood, hands in his pockets, as casual as if they were normal people meeting under normal circumstances, as if they weren’t standing in the Drive Pit with the most motley crew Heart could imagine: a strange admixture of his most vehement enemies, one of his dearest friends, and. . . whatever Shinnosuke was. “What’s up?” he asked.
Heart was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Not that I’m not appreciative, but really -- why go to all this trouble? I thought, given sufficient time, you’d forget about us.”
“Hey, I told you I wouldn’t,” said Shinnosuke. He looked at Heart. “How could I?”
There was a moment, there, where Heart thought that Shinnosuke might reach a hand out to him. Heart remained still. The moment passed.
“Anyway, I can’t claim too much credit,” said Shinnosuke, breaking eye contact. “Gou did the work. I was more moral support.”
Heart was surprised that Krim hadn’t tried to stop them. “It would appear that you kept Krim off of his back, at least.”
“Oh, no, Krim’s still uh, hanging out underground.”
“Really, he’s still keeping up that little act?” asked Heart. What a massive relief: he was comfortable owing Shijima Gou his life, less comfortable with his existence once again being tangentially dependent on the good graces of Krim Steinbelt. “Well, I guess he was always one for theatrics.”
Shinnosuke grimaced. “Can’t argue there.”
“But if Krim’s not here, I suppose that means you can’t be Kamen Rider Drive, can you?” asked Heart. He sighed wistfully. “What a shame, we won’t be able to have any fun.”
Shinnosuke coughed. “Fun?”
Heart smiled. “You know, fighting. But for sport this time.”
Shinnosuke looked down and shook his head. “Heart, no, I don’t want to fight you again.”
Heart thought Shinnosuke looked oddly sad; he remembered how he had looked in the rain, the last time they had fought, and tried to push it from his mind. “I quite enjoyed it, personally,” said Heart.
“I didn’t. Especially near the end. It didn’t feel right. I had to, that didn’t mean I wanted to. I almost wished I could’ve helped you, but. . .” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t bring Medic and Brain back at the same time as you. It seemed like it’d be for the best if we brought you back first, but I know it must be tough to be alone. We’ll get them back, though.”
Heart didn’t know what to say. “Thank you.”
Shinnosuke nodded in acknowledgement before looking at Heart like he knew something Heart didn’t. “I hated fighting you. . . but fighting alongside you, that wasn’t too bad.”
In that moment, Heart wasn’t sure if it would have been for the best, if he’d remained just a memory to Shinnosuke. He wasn’t comfortable with entrances or exits he didn’t intend to have; he’d told Tomari Shinnosuke far too much there, in the rain, the two of them hanging onto each other for all they were worth. Sure, in one way Shinnosuke had refused to fight him, but in another way he’d exited on an argument that Shinnosuke had won: he wanted Shinnosuke to think of him as a fierce rival, antagonistic and proud, and Shinnosuke had seen past that. Denied him the simplicity of going down fighting. He’d pitied him, Heart feared, and might pity him still. He couldn’t have that.
So Heart did what he felt any sensible person in his position might do: he bought a mansion.
Unfortunately, the mansion came with its own set of pests in the form of a sort of perpetual police presence lurking about the perimeter. They were harmless, mostly; he ascertained they were curious more than anything. What would Heart do with a house this size, they wondered. How had he acquired such a residence in the first place, they thought. Heart was content to keep them guessing.
Heart caught Otta spying on him from the shrubbery. He invited him in for coffee, and they chatted amiably for a whole half hour before Otta seemed to recall that he was, in fact, supposed to be keeping a slightly more discreet eye on Heart.
Shinnosuke never came, though, and Heart wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or disappointed.
Kiriko wasn’t drawn out until a particularly large furniture delivery. She stood there assessing him. Finally, she seemed to reach some sort of conclusion. “Shinnosuke’s very important to both of us,” she said.
“Yes,” said Heart.
Kiriko nodded, and stuck out her hand. She had a very firm grip. “You should call him.”
“He could always just call me,” said Heart. “No one’s stopping him.”
Kiriko shook her head.
Heart sighed. “In due time. I’d like to have everything in order before I seriously entertain guests. ”
“Fine. Just don’t wait too long, he gets anxious.” Kiriko looked about, appraising the scene again, wrinkling her nose. “Really Heart, can I ask -- what are all the fainting couches for?”
“For fainting,” he said.
Shinnosuke stared at the door knocker. The skull-shaped door knocker stared back.
He’d waited until Heart reached out to him to come and visit the mansion -- it seemed for the best. He didn’t want to drag himself unwanted into Heart’s life -- though he didn’t think, realistically, he’d be turned away. But still. Heart had to want him to be there.
“Besides,” Kiriko had said when he was explaining this to her, “You’re extremely nervous.”
That too. It was one thing to visit a guy in his mystery mansion when he was just your former sworn enemy, another thing entirely when you -- y’know. When there was something there.
But he was here now, awkwardly clanking the mandible of the huge brass skull against the front door. The second he knocked, the door opened. Heart stood on the other side, paused as if halfway through some motion. Neither of them said anything for a moment.
“I would have brought a housewarming gift but --” Shinnosuke shrugged, hands empty. “I wasn’t sure what to bring?”
“Surely your visit counts as a gift all on its own,” said Heart, opening the door wider. “You should come inside.”
“It’s, uh, big,” said Shinnosuke. “What’s with that?”
“Obviously I don’t intend to stay here on my own,” said Heart. “Once Brain and Medic have returned to us, they’ll need a place to stay of course and -- Shinnosuke, you can’t have thought I’d be content to stop there.”
He hadn’t. “It’ll be tricky, convincing everyone else it’ll be alright, to bring back more Roidmudes than that.”
Heart swept forward without looking back at him. “Perhaps all they needed was somewhere safe to stay -- here, I’ll show you.”
The mansion was, strangely, almost exactly what Shinnosuke expected it to be, full of leather and far too many candelabras; it was as if Heart had shot for Ominous Victorian by way of old American horror films and systematically missed the mark at every given opportunity. It suited him, though, and regardless, Shinnosuke saw through the trappings to what Heart actually wanted him to see: he’d prepared a place for his friends.
It hit Shinnosuke all over again when he saw the room Heart intended for Medic, how much Heart loved her, that moment Medic had been convinced Heart would destroy her and he’d been so gentle instead. How much he loved Brain, too; how Brain had been courageous when it really mattered. Heart inspired a deep devotion that Shinnosuke had felt the pull of even when they’d been trying to defeat each other -- even then, he hadn’t wanted to disappoint Heart.
Shinnosuke leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to step inside. “Y’know, I missed you.”
Heart looked taken aback. “Whatever inspired you to say that?”
Shinnosuke looked at the carefully arranged artificial black roses that sat in a vase on an end table. “I like how much you care about them — Brain, Medic, all of your friends. I like how much you’re willing to fight for them — but let me fight alongside you?”
Heart looked at him with this intensity that always made Shinnosuke feel a little light headed. The hallways -- they made these hallways a little small, for such a big house, didn’t they? Heart stepped closer to him, Heart’s hand was on his tie, straightening it. “Shinnosuke,” he said, leaning in closer still. “You will stop me if I’m being too forward.”
And then Heart was leaning closer, kissing him, pressing him against the wall, hand still tugging on his tie.
“You didn’t have to work so hard to convince me,” said Shinnosuke when they broke apart, their faces still close together.
“Who said any of this was for you?” said Heart.
Shinnosuke brushed some hair out of Heart’s face, and Heart sighed, defeated. “I didn’t want you to -- I wanted to come to you as your equal, not someone you felt sorry for.” He paused again, looking almost frustrated. “I wanted -- If you don’t think of me as your equal, where can I hope to go from there?”
“What are you trying to ask?” asked Shinnosuke.
“Do you truly believe we can coexist?”
Shinnosuke heard Heart’s breath catch in the second before he kissed him. He pushed off against the wall, managed to catch Heart off guard long enough to get him up against the other side of the hallway. They almost knocked over a picture frame that hadn’t gotten secured quite right, and Heart was laughing in an old familiar way.
“That’s not a yes,” said Heart.
Shinnosuke laughed, hand around the back of Heart’s neck; this was all going to get so complicated so fast. “You’ve always had my respect. I want this to work too.”
“This?” asked Heart, gesturing to the house around them. “Or this?” He laid a hand on Shinnosuke’s cheek; it was strange to feel Heart touch him so gently. It was a thing he could get used to.
“Yes,” said Shinnosuke.