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It’s the morning of October 31st, and Takane already wants the day to be over.
It’s just past nine in the morning. Shintaro climbed into bed a few hours ago, and he’s managed to somehow end up sprawled across Takane’s legs. Haruka must have been pushed out at some point, because he’s lying face down on the floor, snoring deeply into the carpet; someone’s thrown a blanket over him, covering most of his body in red fluff. The dim light out in the hallway illuminates the gentle rise and fall of his back.
Wordlessly, Takane kicks out. Shintaro lets out a low whine.
“Get up,” she grunts, “go join your boyfriend on the floor.”
“He’s your boyfriend,” comes the muffled reply, and Takane unceremoniously rolls over, ignoring Shintaro’s groan of protest.
“Not at this time of day, he’s not. I’m making tea, so play nice.”
“I’ve just made some, actually,” comes a gentle voice from the doorway, and both Takane and Shintaro moan in appreciation, causing Ayano to laugh.
“You’re an angel,” Takane informs her as she places a mug by the bedside.
“A gift from above,” Shintaro agrees, almost knocking his own mug out of her hands as he waves his fingers at her appreciatively. Ayano just hums.
“Alright, but I’m not playing guardian to either of you. You’d be far too much trouble.”
Haruka gives a particularly loud snore and mumbles something incomprehensible. The three of them look at each other.
“Speaking of trouble,” Shintaro mutters under his breath.
“I’m going to get the rest of the tea,” says Ayano after a pause, and there’s a little twinkle in her eye. Takane and Shintaro both struggle to sit up and join her, but they end up getting tangled in the sheets and by the time they’re free she’s already slipped back out of the room.
They look at each other.
“I did it last time,” Shintaro points out.
“You also made him pancakes yesterday. You’re in favour right now.”
There’s another mumble from the floor, and both of them wince.
“We turn the alarm on and hide?” suggests Takane after a couple more seconds. Shintaro nods, looking relieved, and fumbles for his phone among the mess of blankets.
---
To an extent, the plan works- none of them are sporting any new bruises when they enter the kitchen, although Takane’s hair is an absolute mess from ducking beneath the sheets and Shintaro still hasn’t stopped shaking. Ayano greets them with a deliberately oblivious smile while Haruka yawns and leans in, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
“I heard there’s tea?”
She nods, handing him his mug; his second favourite and Konoha’s third, complete with a hot pink stegosaurus printed on the front. He beams at her as he cups his hands around it.
“There are pumpkins, too,” says Shintaro helpfully. Everyone looks at him.
“I-I mean,” he stutters, “that we should probably get on with the decorating, right? It’s nearly ten o’clock already, and, and…”
“And they’ll be here in about eleven hours,” snorts Takane, flicking him on the arm. “We have time for breakfast. Right, Ayano?”
Haruka starts nodding vigorously in Ayano’s general direction, eyes round and pitiful.
“I don’t know why I’m making that decision,” she says, frowning at him, “but of course we do, Takane. Shintaro, you need to calm down- if you can’t handle us three before the day’s even started, I don’t know how you’ll cope with Kano and your sister this evening.”
“APPLE TURNOVERS!” Haruka bursts out delightedly, nudging Shintaro on his other side with a cheery little hop. The winded noise their partner makes is enough to send both him and Takane into fits of giggles, Ayano biting her lip to stop herself laughing.
Shintaro is quiet about the pumpkins all through breakfast. Takane finds herself genuinely impressed by his self-restraint- his gaze keeps darting to the counter, where plastic shopping bags filled with electric candles and fake cobwebs sit in waiting. He barely even seems to register when Haruka steals a piece of cake off the end of his half-raised fork. Then again, that’s not uncommon behaviour for a Kokonose.
The next time he’s not looking, Takane reaches for Haruka’s plate and grabs a piece of his. All’s fair in love and war, after all.
---
They finish decorating by two in the afternoon; slowed, admittedly, by Haruka’s constant need for breaks and the mess Ayano’s made of the paper chains. Shintaro nicks his finger cutting into a pumpkin and almost launches into a full-blown panic before Haruka tells him that Konoha’s got an opinion about an anime he suddenly remembers watching, which makes him quieten immediately to instead launch into a heated, largely one-sided debate in which Haruka is forced to play mediator and Konoha is thoroughly confused.
For her part, Takane supervises, dusts, and naps. Things around her buzz with chatter and a joyful sort of chaos. The day goes by as usual.
Haruka wakes her for the fifth time when it’s done, and for a few moments she’s so disorientated that she almost forgets to breathe.
The ceiling is strung in every direction with bright, orange lights, twining behind posters and paintings and in-between the furniture. From the lights, long paper chains of ghosts and bats stretch to each corner of the room and trail to the floor like vines, and over the kitchen’s single window hangs a beautiful silhouette of a faraway castle, made from black card and coloured tissue paper. There’s a pumpkin on the counter- unlit, but already striking with the intricately carved design of a bat on its surface.
Haruka notices her staring at that, and rubs his head.
“Eheh, it’s not my best, but I thought, hey, we all like bats, right? The one in the living room has a frog, and I did one with an owl to go outside later.”
Both of them know what the implication beneath that means. Hibiya’s coming, and he still finds cats difficult, where anything to do with snakes is a danger zone for all of them. Halloween can be tricky, sometimes.
“It’s really great,” Takane tells him, and then, unable to resist a little of her old cheekiness, “who did you use as the model- Shintaro?”
“I heard that,” Shintaro grumbles, appearing as if on cue. “It was you, actually. Sleeping people make easy subjects, right, Haruka?”
“Oh, stop that,” Haruka pets Shintaro’s hair as the other boy awkwardly puts his arms round his waist, “I love both of you! Let’s not fight.”
“We’re not fighting,” comes the simultaneous reply, and Haruka grins cheekily.
Nothing more need be said.
---
It’s around eight when Haruka starts to dissociate.
Ayano is the first to notice. She almost always is; years of living with three very troubled children have taught her how to spot certain signs, how to tell when someone’s mind is getting away from them. She quickly turns the TV down, ignoring the oblivious whines of protest from the other two to place a hand on his shoulder.
“Haruka?”
He stares at her dully, looking for all the world as if he might fall asleep. She looks up at Shintaro and Takane, glaring at them to help.
“Uh… hey, Haruka, stay with us…”
“…Yeah, don’t you want to eat all the party food?”
Blank eyes blink slowly. ‘Haruka’s’ voice comes out slurred.
“You children make a far more tempting meal.”
Ayano winces, evidently trying very hard not to move away. Takane is less polite, and scoots back a good five feet.
“You.”
“Yes,” yawns Kuroha, showing all of his teeth, “me. Don’t you even want to use that ridiculous name you gave me?”
“That wasn’t us,” Shintaro snaps, but shuts up when he sees the look the girls are giving him. It’s bad enough that Kuroha’s here to begin with- making him angry can only end in disaster.
“Ah- of course, it was my little host, wasn’t it?” It’s obvious Kuroha’s already toying with them- he drags a hand down his own face as he speaks, sharp nails leaving red marks on Haruka’s fragile skin that make the rest of them wince. He’s at their mercy as much as they are his, but it’s hard to feel comfortable around a creature that has, in vivid dreams, split you open and drawn your eyes from your skull.
“…Are you staying long?” Ayano asks him, and there’s an obvious edge to her voice. The look Kuroha gives her is like searing ice, but she manages to hold it.
“You think I still have control over things like that? You are more naïve than I had even considered.” He grins, tongue darting past his lips for a moment. “You wanted me contained. There are prices to pay for everything.”
Ayano’s breath catches, and she seems unable to look away for a moment. Takane stands up abruptly.
“Ayano and I have to go and ice the cake,” she says, glaring at Shintaro when he looks confused, “would you like a drink when we come back?”
The snake shrugs and leans back into the sofa cushions, legs wide apart and one hand twirling in the air. His regal mannerisms look so incredibly odd in Haruka’s oversized sweater than Takane honestly wants to laugh at him.
“I’ll take what you have. Human concoctions never cease to amuse me.”
Takane offers Shintaro a silent apology as she takes Ayano’s hand.
Once they’re in the kitchen, she lets go and gives the loudest groan she can manage.
“I can’t believe this.”
“It seems fitting he’d show up on Halloween, doesn’t it?” says Ayano with a small, uneasy laugh. “He can be as melodramatic as he likes and no-one will care.”
“Oh God, I will,” mutters Takane. “If I have to hear one more cannibalism joke-“
“At least he won’t tell the decapitation story again,” Ayano sighs, patting Takane on the back. “We’ve all heard it too many times to react by now.”
“So we don’t cancel?”
“I don’t think so. We just… try to make him behave? Haruka might be back before it starts, anyway…”
They return to the living room with a certain degree of heavy solemnity between them, to find Kuroha with his hands wrapped loosely round a quivering Shintaro’s neck. It’s looking to be a long night.
---
Of course, Haruka isn’t back before it starts, and making Kuroha behave is much easier said than done. There is very little he wants or possesses, so very little to bribe or threaten him with, and it’s apparently an innate part of his nature to be, as Shintaro eloquently puts it, ‘the nastiest fucking asshole who ever slithered (or whatever) over the scummiest parts of the Earth.’
When Momo and Kido arrive (a few minutes late, due to an argument on the doorstep over who would present the champagne), the first thing he does is slide between them and point out, calmly, that alchohol is flammable. Kido looks stunned, but Momo laughs in his face.
“Good to see you too, Snake.”
Kido visibly relaxes on recognising Kuroha, expression shifting back to deadpan.
“Heh, makes sense you’d be out and about tonight.”
The two of them slide in and hang up their coats. Hibiya trails behind them, looking utterly humiliated in his padded werewolf ears and paws. He seems to have been roped into the whole ‘costume’ thing last minute- Momo’s vampire costume and Kido’s matching devil are far more detailed, though all three of them have the effect ruined slightly by liberal use of fake blood.
It’s not on paper that Kido and Momo have adopted Hibiya- at least, not yet- but for all intents and purposes he’s currently living as their son. He moved in with them a few months after they got married back in March, under pretence of ‘keeping the Dan close together’ but living as what Momo calls a ‘family unit’. Shintaro (who is also dressed as a vampire, much to both his and Momo’s mortification) is secretly extremely glad that his sister turned out to be a lesbian, because if she’d ever ended up with that kid he thinks he might have bitten his own arm off.
Seto and Mary arrive at ten past. According to Mary, they hadn’t even been walking together- they live in separate apartments nowadays, despite their close friendship. They bring separate presents, too; Mary a hand-crafted paper chain to add to the ones on the ceiling, and Seto a huge variety pack of Haribo that Kuroha immediately snatches from him. When questioned, he simply shrugs and tears open a packet of gummy snakes, pouring them into his open mouth.
Of course Kano is the last to arrive. He’s actually bothered to put on a costume this year, but it’s almost worse than last year’s ‘toilet-paper ghost’. He seems to have combined some sort of sexy cat costume and half a morph suit, and his huge, knowing grin as Kido yells at him and Kuroha starts remarking on how form-fitting it is makes Takane decide it’s time to offer round drinks. God knows she already needs one.
---
Music thrums through the house. The drumbeat shakes the floor, and bubbles of laughter weave through the halls like wandering ghosts, seeking out candy and conversation. In the living room, Kido and Hibiya have started an incredibly competitive game of Twister, and Seto’s watching them with a sort of passive bafflement, as if unsure how two people have quite that many limbs. Momo and Mary have disappeared- Takane has a sneaking suspicion that they’ve gone upstairs to raid Shintaro’s doujinshi collection, but chooses not to say anything. Any points against Shintaro are points to her in her book.
Shintaro himself was crying in the kitchen the last Takane saw him, and when she’d asked him why he’d only clung to her and wailed harder, something about how he was definitely not thinking about a certain magical girl anime and a character who wasn’t very good at keeping her head. Takane had excused herself with a certain degree of affectionate disgust, telling him to go see if Haruka was back yet so they could be gross nerd boys together.
In the end she winds up in the spare room, among a mess of boxes and unsorted furniture. It’s been nearly two years since they moved in here, but there’s still plenty of junk to unpack, something they’ve promised time and time again they’d get round to some rainy day, and time and time again shoved out of the agenda in favour of something more fun, like indoor picnics or cosy snuggle piles. She doesn’t suppose it really matters, as anything they’ve gone without for so long is probably something they never needed to begin with.
It’s not that she doesn’t like parties, and it’s certainly not that she doesn’t like the company, but there are certain things it’s hard to adjust to, and busy rooms is one of them. Before what they’d all come to refer to as that August and the events that led to it, she’d lived fairly quietly, spending her days, for the most part, alone with Haruka in that stuffy little classroom at the back of the school. Shintaro’s constant presence she’d grown used to as Ene, but all three of her partners together, all the time, was something that has taken a good deal of getting used to. Being with the entire Dan, minus the safety of a computer screen between them, has yet to stop giving her headaches.
So she spends a little time doing nothing, listening to the far-off music as if from underwater. Her drink settles slowly in her hand, and she tries to sip it as slowly as possible- it’s slightly too complicated in flavour for her liking, but still, liquor is liquor. By the time the door behind her opens five minutes later, it’s already gone.
“What’s got you looking so pissed?” she asks Shintaro as he sits down beside her.
“Kano’s making out with Kuroha in the bathroom”, he grumbles, slamming down his paper cup with enough force to scare the toughest of barmen. “Again. I honestly don’t think either of them care about anybody else in the entire world. Guy wants to piss, and he gets an eyeful of his boyfriend’s body making out with his girlfriend’s little brother. He never asked for this, Takane. He just wanted to eject recycled soda from his penis.”
“I think you’ve had enough soda tonight,” Takane tells him, sniffing at his drink with obvious scrutiny before shrugging and downing it in three gulps. “Did you literally just pour vodka into a coke bottle? That’s disgusting. What in hell’s name possessed you?”
He sighs, throwing himself across her lap and closing his eyes. “Seeing my baby sister dancing to Hips Don’t Lie, for a start.”
Takane rolls her eyes.
“She’s not a baby, Shintaro, she’s twenty,” she pauses, then adds as a slightly hazy afterthought, “And she pulled it off far better than you did.”
Shintaro makes an indignant noise, making as if to push off her but stopping midway as a look of horrified realisation dawns on his face. God, he looks drunk. Maybe she’s drunk too, but it’s cuter than she remembers.
“You have a crush on her.”
Take back that last observation in its entirety.
“Who has a crush on whom?”
Arms wrap around her shoulders before she can punch him, and she yelps, spilling a few leftover drops of cola-vodka-whatever in her lap. Shintaro dissolves into laughter as she glares up at the offending party.
“Kuroha, if that’s you I swear I will knock you out.”
In response, said party leans in and nuzzles her cheek playfully before dancing away. “Now, now. You wouldn’t want our pretty Haruka all black and blue in the morning, would you?”
“You stink of alcohol,” she snarls back, rubbing at her cheek, “and… Christ, are those love… are they hickeys?”
Kuroha shrugs, pushing Shintaro ‘s legs harshly into a ball to make space for himself on the sofa. Takane thinks she might hear something crack.
“I don’t object when you and this… “ he shoots Shintaro a look of disdain, “wreck go leaving marks all over my perfect skin, do I? What are a few more?”
Shintaro frowns, mumbling something to himself that might be a repeated loop of ‘wreck?’, and Takane glares at Kuroha, then down at her lap.
“You know Haruka doesn’t like it.”
The snake shrugs again, and this time he’s smirking.
“I don’t particularly like being stuck in this weak excuse for a body. We all have to make sacrifices. Don’t we, Actor…?”
“For God’s sake,” says Shintaro, waving a hand vaguely even as Takane freezes, “learn people’s actual names, stop fucking random people in the bathroom, stop trying to give household members panic attacks. We don’t ask much, so can you just shut the fuck up?”
Takane feels that at this point it might be wise to remind Shintaro that picking a fight with Kuroha is really, really not a good idea for anyone, and is just about to intervene when Kuroha snickers.
“Ah, but they’re not all random, are they, Kisaragi Shintaro?”
There is a silence of exactly six seconds. Takane counts. Then-
Shintaro’s yell of flushed indignation tells her more than she ever wanted to know, and she goes to get herself another drink.
---
She finds Ayano in her bedroom, sitting cross-legged on top of the duvet. There’s a cocktail glass beside her on the bedside table, but it’s untouched, and in her lap rests an open, leather-bound book.
“The hell,” says Takane conversationally, plopping down beside her, “Aren’t you supposed to be the least nerdy person here?”
Ayano chuckles softly, but there’s something reserved about it. Takane wants to take her by the hand and yell that she doesn’t deserve that look in her eyes, but all she manages is to flop against her shoulder and press a clumsy kiss to her jaw.
“Oh,” she says, blinking down at the book as her vision focuses, “the least… intellectually nerdy, then.” She looks up at Ayano’s face- and the alcohol must be really kicking in, because her smile is far too big and far too silly, and the twinkle in Ayano’s eyes is reminding her of vague, poetic, starry things. She must look pathetic, to earn a tone as soft as Ayano’s becomes:
“I just… well, it’s not the time for it, but…”
Takane nods.
“But it totally is, and there’s no other better time for it, and you need it right now kind of like Kuroha needs to be physically restrained at all times and particularly, possibly, at this very minute?”
Her girlfriend gives a wary little blink, and seems about to ask a question, but Takane really can’t be bothered to talk about those stupid boys right now when, hello, the most beautiful girl in maybe the whole world is right here, and they’re kind of living together and, wow, they’re looking at photo albums like grandmas which is so unbearably domestic…
She jabs a finger at one of the pages, missing the mark by a couple of centimetres.
“That’s Kano.”
Ayano beams at her, wariness immediately vanishing.
“Yes. He was taller than Kido, you know!”
Takane nods wisely and rests her chin on Ayano’s shoulder.
“Boys are usually taller than girls.”
“Yeah,” Ayano looks a little sad for a second, “he really didn’t like it when she surpassed him. So I used to take him out and show him the people in the street; that lots of boys were short, too…”
“Jeez. It’s no wonder he loves you so much.”
It takes a few moments for Takane to process that Ayano has started to cry.
“O-oi, what-? “
“I’m sorry,” Ayano’s gasp is muffled by her hands, raised to her face with practiced quickness, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“
“Y-you okay?” splutters Takane, hovering as if to hug her but unsure, exactly, whether it’d be the right thing to do. Ayano nods, then shakes her head, tears dripping off the end of her nose and sobs choked by mucus.
“I’m really sorry,” she hiccups, “I think- I think I’m drunk, but- well- they’re so old-“
“Twenty,” says Takane automatically, then winces at her own insensitivity. Ayano sniffles and blinks at her fondly.
“Twenty, but- Kido’s married! And with Seto going off to Brazil next year-“
“Twenty’s young for marriage, not old,” Takane tells her, caving and awkwardly placing her arms around Ayano’s small frame, “and that animal weirdo is gonna have the time of his life. Don’t worry about them.”
To her surprise, Ayano gives a small, bitter laugh.
“It’s not them I’m worried about.”
Takane blinks at her for a second, confused, and she presses on-
“Takane… I don’t really know if you’d understand, a-and it might sound ungrateful, since I have all of you, but… what’s a big sister without her little siblings, you know?”
Takane just… looks at her. Her brow is furrowed, and her mind, through the fog of inebriation and the general loudness of the house, is having a certain amount of trouble grasping the problem.
“They’re not going anywhere,” she mumbles, and then hastily amends, “well, yeah, they are, Seto’s flying across the Pacific, but it’s not like you’ll stop being there for him just because you’re not, uh, there for him?” She swallows as she finishes her sentence, looking surprised at how well that came out. Ayano laughs at the expression on her face, and she grins back. Laughing is better than crying, right?
“That’s true. But I just… I haven’t. Ah. I’ve always been looking after someone It’s sort of what I do.”
To her credit, Takane manages to keep her incredulous expression relatively humorous.
“You’re saying me and the boys aren’t enough work for you? Because I’m sure we could make some more…”
Ayano laughs again, wiping away the last of her tears and hugging Takane tight.
“All of you combined could never be as much work as Kano is by himself, believe me.”
From somewhere in the house, as if in answer, Kano’s voice erupts into raucous laughter. The two of them stare at each other.
“Uhh. Wanna go and sort that out?”
To her surprise, Ayano shakes her head.
“Nah,” she says, and her eyes are glowing, “I think I’d rather stay here and kiss you, actually.”
Takane beams at her.
“A lesson in letting go, then?”
“God,” Ayano says as she moves closer and places a hand on her lap, “You’re so philosophical when you’re drunk.”
---
The party officially ends at midnight- Kido insists that a very disgruntled Hibiya needs his bedtime regulated- but most of the guests stay on until one, lounging around in the dim glow of the fairy lights and the flickering shadows cast by the candles. Ayano is in the kitchen, making hot chocolate for everyone who’s still awake. Kuroha passed out a while ago at the sight of the cake, and Konoha fell asleep covered in icing half an hour later in Shintaro’s lap, both of them snoring loud enough that everyone else stays well away from them. Mary has her arms around Seto, who is playing cards over a footrest with Kano. Every so often, she smacks Kano’s hand away for cheating.
Takane surveys the wreckage of their house with a resigned, almost amused expression. She’s not cleaning up tonight, that’s for sure- in fact, since she’s made the least mess of all of them (after Ayano ended up drinking half the punch bowl and throwing streamers all over the floor), she thinks she might just lie in tomorrow.
She would never have understood, years ago, what Ayano could possibly miss about clearing up other people’s mess. Yet now, looking around at her sleeping friends and partners, she feels a surge of fondness and fierceness that almost alarms her. She wants to protect them, and she wants to (ugh) love them. They deserve it, she thinks, more than anyone in the world.
It’s with a small smile that she shakes her head and admits one last thing to herself. One more embarrassing feeling before she crashes out, probably on top of Konoha, into regretful oblivion.
She deserves them, too.