Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's not often that he finds himself at a loss for words, but now that he does, he finds that he doesn't like the feeling.

To start with, his day so far had been pretty uneventful. Boring, even. Although he had spent the majority of his life chasing his newest hyperfixation and maximizing the amount of fun, he found himself idle and distracted as of late. While he lived his life on the not so legal side of the law, he found that most days were… dreary. Unfulfilling. Life hadn’t been as bright as it should have been and try as he might, he found it easier to feel himself waste away as the days passed. 

For quite some time now, he hadn’t felt the urge to challenge himself. 

To find new games to play and beat. 

It was a strange situation, one that he had been intimately aware of in the past as boredom was wont to plague him from time to time, but now, it seemed that no matter what he did, there was little he could do to stave off the soul wrenching ennui. 

So, when he heard a timid knock on his apartment door, on a comfortable, but hazy afternoon of fiddling with a low budget keyboard, he went and answered it. 

Normally, had he been in a healthier state of mind, he would have gladly let this person knock to their heart’s content. Very few people knew where he lived and those who did, would have found it easier to message him on forums and even rarer, private messaging apps. Despite the strangeness of the situation, he had decided that if he couldn’t stave off boredom in the virtual world, he would have to make do with the real world. 

Quickly, he bypassed his crowded bedroom—there were a multitude of keyboards, old video consoles, out of date laptops and the like—and out into the apartment proper. Unlike his bedroom, which was cramped and inundated with the scent of must and old takeout that he had yet to throw away—he was going to do it… eventually—the rest of his apartment was practically bare. 

Yes, it was small and it wouldn’t take long to traverse his bedroom and towards the exit, but the lack of personality was near devastating in a pathetic sort of way. There were very few chairs where a guest could sit, there was a lack of decor that would have made his apartment seem lived in—not like he would have liked to advertise his tastes to any visitors—and his entire space was dim and dank.  

Not exactly an inviting space to guests. 

However, if his apartment was just as inviting as he thought it would be—not out of design, but because he genuinely didn’t care too much about decorating his abode—then he wouldn’t have to deal with guests. 

Without even pausing to check the identity of the person on the other side of the door, he opened it fully. 

And nearly balked at the sight that greeted him. 

There, standing in his doorway, was a woman who he had not seen in almost a decade. Although years had passed, her face remained youthful, and her frame, while not as slender and willowy as it had been in her early twenties, was still rather lovely to look at. While her overall appearance did not seem too unchanged, her outfit was not nearly as stylish or as chic—instead of her floral and pastel palette of pinks and whites from her past, she favored dark navy and blacks—harkening to an appearance that made her appear more mature and wiser than her youthfulness should suggest. 

It was quite the change, but nothing that he hadn’t seen coming. Even years ago, her taste in fashion had always followed the path of the wind. Whatever passed her fancy, she immediately tried to incorporate it in her wardrobe. Although, as he continued to study the woman standing in his doorway, from the quality of the denim—durable, but clearly not fitting her as well as it should have—he could tell that the change may have been due to circumstances out of her control. 

Financial circumstances if he were to hazard a guess. 

(And if this were a game, he would definitely bet on those odds that he was correct). 

Despite the maelstrom of unchanged and very much changed features, the look on her face was strikingly similar to the expression that she would often wear when she was happy to see her friends. 

(Which was a strange expression to see considering that it had been so many years since they had last interacted in real life). 

“Well? Aren’t you going to say hello?” 

Even her voice, while having deepened and matured as was common for people getting older, still held the same youthful resonance and melody that he often heard when he was younger. As much as he tried to feel annoyed at her attempt to chastise him, there was warmth blooming in his chest; a bud that he did not want to water and grow into a thriving blossom. 

He didn’t do friends. 

Especially with people whom he hadn’t seen in ages. 

In response to her question, he immediately closed the door and backed away. 

Years had passed, but the woman’s stubborn nature didn’t seem to have abated in the least. The instant he had closed the door, the knocking continued. It was loud and obnoxious and if it were not for the fact that he lived in the shadier parts of the city where people didn’t care too much about disruptions unless it directly affected them, he was sure that some of his unruly and confrontational neighbors would have surely attacked the woman. As fortunate as the scenario may have seemed—the woman on the other side of the door and him, still safe in his apartment—boredom always got the better of him. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he had been suffering terribly from the tedium of being alive and this was the most exciting thing that had happened to him in months. 

Carefully, he made his way back to his door, his hand resting upon the swell of the doorknob, but not quite twisting it to open. 

When the knocking ceased for a moment, as if the woman was giving him a chance to answer—which he was going to do anyway—he finally spoke up for the first time since she had dropped by for an unexpected visit. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you to call ahead of visiting?”

He didn’t need to take a look through the peephole to see her shooting a nasty glare at him from the other side complete with an irresistible pout upon her pale lips. 

“And didn’t your mother tell you that it was rude to leave a guest stranded in the cold?”

He checked his phone. “It’s well above twenty degrees. Not enough to freeze. You’ll survive.”

On the other side, he could hear the woman groan to herself, as if finally realizing with whom she had been speaking. Like him, did she take in his appearance, his voice, and mannerisms? Was she fascinated by all the miniscule changes that made up who he was today? Or had she fully taken him, recognized him for who he was, and immediately accepted him, no questions asked? 

She wasn’t the judgmental type all those years ago, but she did have her fair share of gripes from how he styled his hair and how he didn’t pay too much attention to his personal hygiene. Although, to be fair, he was at that age where such matters didn’t appeal to him. 

He was older now and far more cognizant of his needs… even if, once in a while, he had to give himself reminders on how to take care of himself. 

“All right, fine. Let me start over.” This time, he gazed at her from the peephole, silently marveling at the way she was framed within the fisheye lens. “Hey, I finally moved back and I was wondering if you would like to catch up?”

He took a long moment to feign thinking about his decision—and yes, he definitely relished in the panic he saw flash upon her visage—before he answered with, “Adequate.” There was hope in the woman’s eyes. “But you still need to give me a good reason why I should let you inside.”

“I just did!”

“We can catch up just like this; I certainly don’t see a problem with this arrangement.”

A nasty roll of the eyes that he instantly recognized as having been the subject of many times before in the past. “I can’t believe that it has to come to this.” 

Out of frame, she reached out for something that stood a little bit away from her, but certainly something on the floor before she held up to the peephole a plastic bag that clearly originated from a convenience store. It took a moment, but once she rearranged the plastic and the contents held within, he was able to see that there were a number of jelly drinks that could easily satisfy the odd craving for a couple of days. 

“So?”

“I’m not seventeen anymore.”

“You’ve been drinking these things since you were a little kid. Don’t tell me that you’ve finally matured!”

“That right there is precisely the reason why I won’t open the door.”

The woman let out an exasperated sound that was a cross between a shriek and a moan of frustration. Yup, it appeared that even if it had been years since the last time they bantered, he had not lost his touch.

Like picking up a childhood game that he had years to master and had long since done so and had played out of curiosity only to find that he was still good at it. It was an exhilarating feeling that made him feel… more tolerant over this unannounced visit. At the very least, he would not be bored to tears with her around. 

To put her out of her misery, he finally twisted the doorknob and let her inside.

“Just to be clear,” he couldn’t help but add slyly, “I didn’t lock the door so you could have tried harder to come inside.”

“And have you calling the police on me for trespassing? I think not!” Her eyes widened in that comical way of hers—it reminded him of those old animes from the late nineties—as she finally processed what he admitted. “What do you mean you don’t lock the door? That’s—!”

He pulled out a ratty old wooden chair right next to his equally inviting kitchen table. For a moment, she was stunned by the sudden show of hospitality and that allowed him time to take advantage. “My neighbors don’t particularly care for me and I keep a low enough profile that no one would want to break in. Besides that point… It would certainly add some spice to my life to track down possible trespassers and thieves and make their lives a living… Well, I can’t guarantee they would still be living after I’m done with them.”

He finally glanced at his companion only to find himself bombarded with the most horrified look he had ever witnessed upon her sweet face. 

Resisting the urge to laugh took up most of his self control, but he tried. Valiantly. For her sake. 

But there was a sharp intake of breath that he couldn’t help but let escape his mouth.

“Relax. I’m not as clean as certain people—” Here, he sent a mocking look in her direction. “—but I don’t think I can stomach ending someone’s life. Torturing them psychologically, maybe.”

“Still, though—” She twisted the handle of the plastic bag in between her fingers. Another thing that changed, but had not changed too much in between the years that stood between them. He saw that her nails were well maintained and her hands were somewhat smooth and still held that same softness one could attribute to a great skin routine. They weren’t painted in her favorite colors of rose pink and dusty lavenders, but they did shine with care. A change; a small one, but one that still fascinated him like looking at easter eggs in DLCs. “—that’s not healthy.”

“Bribing someone you used to know with jelly drinks isn’t healthy either. Speaking of—” He made a grabbing motion with his hands. 

“Uggghhh, you’re such a child.”

Her tone of voice made it seem like she was at her rope’s end with him, but she playfully launched the plastic bag at him, careful so as to not knock him down with the force of the jelly drinks. 

As he examined his haul—she had remembered his favorite flavors and had even splurged on some new flavors that he had been eyeing for the past few weeks, how had she known?—he said, with carefully placed snark, “You’re only three years older than me, hag!”

“How dare—!”

“That’s what you get for telling a twenty three year old that he’s still a child.” He couldn’t help it. For some odd reason, riling her up pulled at him then making sure that he wasn’t too childish. He had a strange habit of reverting to a time when he had more… he wouldn’t call it innocence, but certainly a zest for life that was lacking in his current living situation. 

“I…” Her eyes narrowed as she did the math and then—! “Oh, that’s right! Your birthday isn’t for a few months yet! Do you have any plans?”

He shrugged, suddenly more invested in his jelly drinks. She certainly had gone all out considering that the brand she had gotten was insanely expensive compared to the other brands he had sampled over the years. “It’s a birthday. That’s it. I think the better question is, what are your plans?”

For the first time that night, the nervous, almost erratic energy that she had been displaying over the course of her visit had dissipated. 

There. 

That right there. 

That’s who she truly was under her sugary good layers that he certainly appreciated, but knew wasn’t her true personality. 

“For your birthday?”

She was hedging and if he was a lesser man like those simpletons who would not think twice about a beautiful young woman enticing them into giving her all their money, he might have folded. However, he knew from the moment that he saw her standing in his doorway that there was a hidden motive to her being at his apartment. It had been years, but he knew a swindler when he saw one. 

Even if she would never admit to dipping her toes into the murky waters of the criminal underworld. 

(Not that he could blame her. Criminality wasn’t a game that one could easily quit).

“No.” He whispered her name like she was uttering a blasphemy that coincided with the lilting pleas of a forgotten prayer. “Why are you here? At my apartment. Sitting at my kitchen table.”

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who fell head over heels for the dangerous and the maligned. For most of her life, she had lived in the shadows of polite society and was unaware of the dark corners and even darker shadows plaguing the outskirts of her world. Always the good girl, the perfect civilian. However, over the course of many—MANY—coincidences and the push from curiosity to duty on her part, she had eventually found herself fleeing her city and towards greener and better horizons. 

He could not fault her for that. 

He, too, when he had the time, moved from place to place, always seeking the next best high. The next best thing that could get his heart pumping faster than the speed of the Shinkkansen or get his mind leaping through hoops that would shame circus performers to tears. Over the years, he had traveled from city to city, always laying low, but causing chaos in his wake. 

He was a lone wolf, a well worn traveler of both the physical and cyber worlds who could never satiate his wanderlust amd his ever growing boredom. 

On the other hand, she was someone who needed others for support and companionship. When she had left her city, she had taken with her a man who was just as immersed in the murk of the depths, if not more so. Together, they had built a life that many would have envied had they wished to escape the confines of the deep. 

Fortunately for him, he was not jealous. 

Someone’s high score was paltry compared to his pursuit of perfection and to rise to higher heights. 

However, this story of once upon a time was not just enmeshed in hearsay and hypotheticals. Despite it all, no matter how different their starts in life were, they had once been close confidants. Perhaps not as close as the certain someone she had spent almost a decade of her life with. However, he was not ashamed to admit that: he had his time with her and treasured their stolen little moments, no matter how inconsequential they might have seemed. 

Because, even though they were different as night and day, their teasing and banter once brought light into the dreariness of his everyday boredom. 

He felt light and excited to know that he would be the cause of her annoyed and flushed expressions. A simple push of her buttons and she would be flustered and at loss for words. If she was a system that needed hacking, he need only guess once to find the ultimate password to explore her soul. She was an open book whose walls weren’t so much walls as they were invitations to climb over and see who she really was. 

She was far from the goody goody she had presented herself as.

No.

She had been a swindler and by far, one of the most accomplished ones there ever was. 

And that made the existence of both personas, working simultaneously against and in tandem with each other, all the more interesting. 

And whatever staved off boredom, he was loathe to lose.

But, like loot that he had failed to equip after a successful campaign, she had gone away and had become her own person. The princess locked away in another tower had broken free and chosen her own date. If it were not for her insistence that they keep in touch (sometimes via letters—much to his chagrin, which he later used as a weapon to tease her for being such an old fashioned lady—and sometimes via email), they would have surely fallen out of contact and he would have remembered more as a passing mirage rather than a full fledged memory. 

Over the years, private messaging grew more advanced and sophisticated, which meant that she had forced him to get into mainstream social media accounts. He had protested, but eventually, he was run over when she told him that she would send less letters and ‘act less like an old lady’. That was a good deal in and of itself because while he did enjoy seeing her handwriting and the passion with what she wrote, he would much rather engage in faster communication. (Not that he would ever admit that).  

Despite her promise, though, there were times when he would find that his mailbox would be filled to the brim with letters and a few care packages. 

(For all the non-perishables, he found himself keeping in a safe that no one knew about in his room).

“To make sure that you’re taking care of yourself, silly!” She had said during a voice call. Her accompanying laughter was so infectious that he had no choice but to sigh a little to himself as he forced himself to not smile too broadly at the chocolates and assorted fruits she had managed to send to his door.

Once upon a times were not meant to be forever. 

Their story would have gradually faded into voice calls that would bloom every once in a blue moon. Conversations that would have taken place hours deep into the night for him, but during the waxing hours of the day for her. There were very few hints that gave away the fact that she was coming back. 

But now, it seemed pretty clear.

For a gamer like himself, he should have pieced together the pieces of the puzzle far more quicker than her arrival.

The certain someone she had run away with was dependable, yes, but he never saw the depth of this person’s love for her. Was he biased? Perhaps, but he was never sure if this certain person had the capacity to feel. 

“Don’t tell me you need a place to stay.” 

He leaned back in his chair, somewhat at ease, while very much aware that this apartment was a far cry from comfortable. As a pragmatist, he never prioritized the comfort of others, but she… she was different. For reasons that he would not like to dwell on, he wished she had told him about this surprise visit. Perhaps he would have… That was enough, she was already sitting at his apartment and there was nothing to be done about it. In the future… But that was simply too much to think about now! 

He continued, blunt practicality oozing from his very core. “It would be stupid to come back here without a plan.”

She bristled, but ultimately decided to let that one go. He had slighted her many times before; this wasn’t anything new. If this conversation were to go the way their previous conversations went in the past, then she would only assume that this wouldn’t be the last time he would insult her. 

He didn’t mean any harm by it, he was simply speaking truth. 

As for her plans and the shadows of her past… 

While easily led astray, the government didn’t always mean that they always forgot. Even records that had been wiped from existence could easily be resurrected with the right words. The right amount of money. And if done well, could easily spell the end of certain people.

Of course, from what he remembered, she hadn’t been involved with anything too high profile and could have easily gotten off with a somewhat lenient sentence, but the trouble was that she had left. 

And leaving only increased the troubles one had with the law.

So, again—

“Why are you here? If all you’re going to do is ‘hang out’, then you can forget it. I’ve been laying low for a while and I make enough to get by.”

He refused to feel sorry for her when he saw that his words struck her deep. Callous he might have been, but there was a difference from running from the law for fun and doing it just to survive. He won’t get into the nitty gritty; he had done both and while his teenagehood was rife with adventure and seeking out his next hit of dopamine, his twenties were not as glamorous. 

Really, he was waiting for one good reason why he didn’t hit ‘game over’ and be done with this life already. It was such a waste—one that he didn’t bother thinking was worth saving. 

He was biding his time… but for what? 

She leaned back in her chair, her light magenta eyes idly scanning the ceiling above. For a moment, he wondered if she came all this way so that she would sneak her way back underneath his skin by falling asleep at his kitchen table. 

How diabolical. 

And then—

Steadily, she finally cast her gaze upon him once more and began to speak. With every word she spoke, he could feel him attuned to her once more. When he was younger, he found himself paying attention to her every word and movement. Even when she wasn’t exaggerating her expressive features, she was still entrancing. That was one of the many reasons why she had made it so far in the underworld. From the words she spoke to the tone of voice, she was able to inspire people to follow her, to manipulate others into doing her will. 

She was a liar and a cheat—and at the very beginning, she didn’t even know it.

He wondered what sort of siren song she would sing to him now. 

(A part of him wanted to listen and bask in her attention. Another part reminded him that there were other avenues for entertainment. He had every right to throw his life away, but not for her).

“It… What I had didn’t work out. I lived a good life abroad, but I needed to go back home and…” She made a helpless motion with her hands, as if she were pleading to a higher being. “...I want to give back to the community, to tie up loose threads, and be happy.”

He made a humming sound at the back of his throat, his mind going a mile a minute as he mulled over her confession. Although she kept her admission mostly vague and littered with senseless platitudes, he did remember most of their emails—especially the last few correspondences—that detailed her grievances and confusion regarding her relationship with her long time partner. 

As someone who rarely got himself entangled in neither the romantic nor the sexual, he could never quite understand how someone could choose to be vulnerable with people who could choose to stab them right in the back. Thankfully, he knew from her words that she had not suffered during her time with her partner, but she realized that the life she had envisioned was not blooming into fruition. 

She had realized that she was not going to get her happy ending with that man. 

Perhaps at this moment he could make fun of her, tease her a little to get that fetching red flush to creep up her neck and splash her cheeks with that delightful hue. Or perhaps he could shun her forever, force her to realize that maybe he was lying through his teeth when he emailed her. 

Or maybe—

“You want me to make you a new identity, make it so that your record is spotless and clean while also making sure that everything of the ‘you’ that existed from before is gone.”

A rueful smile that made him feel lighter, far more engaged, than he had been in years. 

“As always, quick on the uptake.”

Chapter Text

He didn’t know if he should laugh or call the police. 

Out of all the things that she wanted to work as, she chose to be a civil servant. To what end? What was her angle?

No, wait, he already knew. Despite the fact that she was quite the swindler back when she was active, she had kept a relatively low profile and… she remained innocent despite it at all. In fact if he remembered correctly, she had been a civil servant in the past as well. That realization made him want to laugh even harder. 

What was she doing? Was she trying to reclaim a part of her past? Did she want to relive her glory days? Or was it something more personal like trying to erase the identity that danced underneath the veneer of an ordinary person?

If so, he was rather disappointed in her. 

He would have thought that she would try to use this new position to her advantage. Maybe she would have used it to hack into the government systems. Maybe blackmail or blow the whistle on secret governmental operations. Something or other that would have greatly benefited her while also going back to her roots. 

(Those were insane thoughts without any basis in reality, he knew that, but he wished that she had somehow attained self preservation while she had been gone for so many years).

Despite the thoughts that raced in his head of possibly teaming up with her again—again!—he also knew that he should have known better. 

The woman had always had a heart that bled of gold. 

If pushed to the brink, yes, she was no better than the everyday street rats that roamed the night and sauntered in the criminal underworld, but as she is now? At this very moment? Right now, despite the fact that she was practically bribing a criminal like himself, she was earnest. 

And so very interesting. 

What would it take to get her to kill a man in cold blood again? Under what conditions would she once again think quickly on her feet and take action to protect herself or those she cared for the most? 

What would she do if he were to betray her now, at this very moment? Would her sweet sakura eyes look down at him as he lay gasping on the floor as she bashes his head in with one of his old laptops? Or would those very same eyes darken with rage and would she instead cut off his air flow with the boots that adorned her feet? 

Instead of horror at the very idea that she would turn to this very violent turn of events—even if it was all in his head—his heart couldn’t help but beat that much quicker. 

Not even the most difficult level in his favorite game could ever compare. 

He almost wanted to test out his hypothesis. 

“What happens,” he ventured to ask as he fingered the rim of his jelly drink in mock contemplation, “if I were to say no? What would you do then?”

Would you squirm in discomfort before ultimately leaving? Would you get on your knees and beg?

At those thoughts of her pleading, he couldn’t help but shake his head and narrow his eyes in anger at himself. That wouldn’t be like her at all. Rather, that was a sort of idolized, fake image of her that he had somehow pictured in his head. Ridiculous, she had only just come back into his life, and already she was swindling her way into a narrative that painted her in a positive, rose tinted light. Or perhaps… 

That was the sort of reaction he would expect before she had enmeshed herself in this lifestyle that asked her to adapt and to become more resilient.

Had he become nostalgic and yearning for times that had gone by? What a fool was he, to even think that either of them could go back. Once you passed certain checkpoints, you couldn’t go back to a previous saved game… 

He breathed in through his nose and pretended not to notice when she smiled serenely at him. 

Mischievously at him. 

She looked and smiled at him in a way that made him feel like they were both in on some joke, but he had somehow forgotten the punchline.

It was maddening—he was always the one who had all the answers and the foresight—to know that she was pushing him to his limits by pushing the exact buttons that would get him to do what she wanted. 

It was pure and utter madness and the worst part of it all? 

She still looked angelic while doing it.

“You'll help me.”

And perhaps it was the self-assured way she said it or because he already made up his mind that he found that he didn't want to pursue the issue. Underneath her unassuming gaze, his will faltered before definitively buckling. It would have made a prouder man bristle at the idea of such weakness. He wouldn’t have considered himself proud, but he wasn’t sure what word was more apt to describe him at that moment of realizing his very human, very fallible weakness. 

Furthermore, when he stared deep into her eyes, he spotted a knowing light in her gaze that he found equal parts amusing and irritating—how dare she somehow know that he was at her mercy. It was as if she had become omniscient in all matters concerning himself while she had been away. Frankly, it scared him, but that fear was underlined with another feeling that he had yet to put a name to. He dared not venture close to that feeling lest he realize what it was… but he did try to discern what it was. 

The closest that he could describe it was exhilaration. 

But there was something else in her eyes. 

That something else reminded him of the implicit trust that he would sometimes find from clientele who were still new to the game or younger children who had not realized that their lives were meant to be part of the cogs of a larger, more grandiose machine.

Whatever the case, he looked away and huffed, his cheeks rounding out and making him look utterly childish despite the fact that he was about to turn twenty four years old. He hoped that turning away from her so that he could enjoy his jelly drinks in peace would have been enough to deter her delight, but it was all in vain.

Instead, the instant he so much as happened to make that specific face of his that he somehow never managed to grow out of, she reached out and pinched his skin.

Not too hard: it was a butterfly touch that felt more like a caress that managed to hold a piece of himself within the pads of her gentle fingers.

“I told you that you would do it!” She crowed like she had won a campaign against him. As if she had done something that was worth boasting about—she had, he just didn’t want to admit that any more than he already did. His body language alone was more than enough to out him. “You're just about as bad as me when it comes to being an open book.”

Oh no.

That was crossing the line.

Those were fighting words.

He was many things, but an open book? Just who did she think she was talking to?

“Please,” he mumbled as he took another sip of his jelly drink. (He had opted to eschew his favorite flavor of strawberry because he wanted to save that for a later day and had chosen lychee instead). “If I was an open book, I would not have such a lucrative business.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed in an attempt to placate him, despite the fact that she was looking at him as if she didn't believe him one bit. How nauseating that he was still entertaining her all this time. Perhaps he should turn the tables on her. For old times' sake. "I think your being an open book is part of your charm."

“And now this open book is going to kick you out of my house. Go.”

Eventually, she did leave.

But not without paying the full amount of what he was due instead of the down payment that pretty much all of his clientele would have been loathe to give.

Before she had wired the credits, he warned her that he could just as easily double cross her and lead the police to her door step. And that was not even addressing the fact that she was able to pay his exorbitant fee that even those most desperate would not have been able to pay up front, but rather in fixed installments over the course of at least six months!

"It's simple logic; you give me only a part of the fee and when you see that I fulfilled my part of the bargain, you pay me the rest. If I weren't such a nice guy, I would have easily just taken your money and run off with it."

“Well,” she clicked her tongue at him, her eyes rolling as if knowing that he would have said this no matter the circumstances. "You are a nice guy. I know you better than that.” She paused for a moment, a beatific smile brightening her features and causing his heart to thump a little too hard in his chest. “Also, you don't know how to run. I think I can take you.”

Well.

She wasn't wrong.

But she definitely wasn't right either.

Chapter Text

If there was anything he was good at, it was planning contingencies and realizing that what made humans… well, human, was their unerring ability to surprise him. 

Therefore, it shouldn’t have come as a shock that there was more to come in regards to her and her request. 

No sooner had he revealed that he had erased all of her past records, she had come upon him on a nondescript, ordinary day. Were this any other occasion, he may have been a little more prepared and a little less frazzled (on the inside, never on the outside), but somehow, some way, she had come to him at the most inopportune time. Perhaps, he should have seen this coming—really, he should have, but who could blame him?—but it was always her job to surprise and engineer ingenuity at the drop of a hat. 

The inopportune time in question?

For the first time in a while, he had chosen to do some spring cleaning. 

While he wasn’t the most slovenly person on the planet or in this apartment complex (yes, he had seen some of the other tenants’ rooms from time to time and he was by far one of the most cleanly), he wouldn’t say that he was tidy. For every stray piece of clothing or piece of equipment that he shouldn’t have had access to, but did, there was a system, a reason why certain things were the way they were. If a system worked flawlessly—and it usually did—then why should he seek to improve upon perfection? It was rare that he had guests over and he never made it a point to please others.

Unfortunately for him, that way of thinking had become obsolete after his encounter with her and then, all of a sudden, he had become…

He wouldn’t say self-conscious, but he definitely did start thinking about how he had presented himself and his apartment. Granted, again, he wasn’t the most social person and it wasn’t like he violating any health codes, but still. His apartment had seen better days and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t trying his best. 

And it wasn't just because he wanted to try harder, but it was because he was human with equally human thoughts and feelings. Embarrassment was another emotion he was only vaguely acquainted with, but it chose to rear its ugly head whenever he remembered his past encounters with her. (And his brain decided to make him relive those memories near daily).

If there was one thing that he could grant her and her flighty whims, it was that she often produced results. Sometimes, her actions would result in an uprising against law enforcement. Other times, it would result in him taking stock of his surroundings and realizing that, yes, he needed to do a deep clean of his living quarters. 

And no, he was not ashamed of his apartment. He just wanted to… Well, she had sparked something inside of him that wanted to embrace life even though life hadn’t challenged him in some time. 

On this particular day, when she had arrived seemingly out of the blue, he was hard at work trying to figure out how to best create a neat organization system. Where should his clothes be stowed and how? What about his many knick knacks and pieces of equipment he had squirrelled away for future projects.

What he had discovered was equal parts astonishing and frustrating.

For reasons that were beyond him, some of his clothing wouldn't fit in his closet. Not unless he actually looked up how to fold them properly and if anyone truly knew him, he was not in the mood to do so. He was well versed in the art of working hard, but that was mostly relegated to topics that he was interested in.

On the other hand, while he was far more willing to organize his gadgets and his large collection of mechanical keyboards, he wasn’t ready to put them away for safekeeping. Besides, he felt that his gadgets would serve better use if he could see them immediately. (And yes, he was fully aware that he sounded lazy because he was actually that lazy).

So, it wasn’t all too surprising that he had left his bedroom in veritable shambles and decided to tackle his kitchen. While it was more of a place in his apartment that just so happened to house a fridge and a stove, he did know how to cook. Barely and rarely, but he had the skill.

While he was no five star chef and his resulting cuisine wouldn’t be featured in restaurants, he was confident to say that he was somewhat self-sufficient. And even if he did find himself staring down a pan filled with inedible, charred slop of what should have been food, that didn’t stop him from ordering take out. 

Why live in the modern era if you couldn’t enjoy the fruits and labor of technology?

And if his options were to starve or eat whatever charred or undercooked thing he had concocted… Well, while he played a lot of games in his free time, that didn’t mean that he was always beholden to the rules. 

Sometimes, the best part about playing a game was to see how far he could bend them before they eventually broke. 

Whereas cleaning his room was a Sisyphean task that only fed into his everyday apathy, the deep clean of his kitchen bore different results upon his mental health. It was rather cathartic in a way.

Here, at the very least, he was content to scrub his sink down, to wipe down his countertops with a wet, sanitized cloth, and reorganize his cabinets and fridge. While he wasn’t stocked to the brim with various canned goods or packs of pre-packaged noodles, he did notice that there were a few things that had long since expired. 

Pocky sticks that he had long since forgotten two years ago… 

Candies that were probably stale by now and not in the least bit good to eat…

And a few jars of something or other that were better left fending for its life within the confines of his garbage instead of festering within his cabinets. 

All in all, cleaning the kitchen was a step in the right direction. While it wasn't his most favorite thing to do in the world, he felt accomplished. Invigorated. Eager to see what life would take him next. It was almost as if… it was as if he was a young child again having finished defeating the final boss in a hard game. 

There was accomplishment. Victory. The knowing that he had gained the skills and the experience to do what needed to be done. 

This was the most alive that he had ever felt in a while. 

He almost felt… happy. 

Not to say that he wasn’t happy before, but… For some odd reason, he had decided that life wasn't simply what he wanted. Yes, he was his own person with a booming business that he would dare not disclose the details to any law enforcement, but that didn't mean that he was ecstatic about living life. Not even joyful. Content, maybe, but anything more than that would be a lie. 

But enough about happiness, what was truly concerning about this spring cleaning day was that she had come. Like a tidal wave as a preamble to a typhoon, she had alighted upon his doorstep and swept into his apartment. All pretense of halfheartedly kicking her out of his home flew out the window when she smiled upon him. It was as if the sun itself was shining upon him, heating the skin of his cheeks and warming his insides.

Seconds after her arrival, she greeted him with a deep embrace and a quick kiss on the cheek. The sudden caress upon his face did not elicit any sort of reaction or sensation—not even happiness. (Obviously). 

After a brief exchange of pleasantries—to which he had stated that she spit out her business lest she become fully acquainted with how badly he had kept his home—she entrusted him with another task. One that he didn’t have to heed because he had already done her a favor. Yet, while he explained himself for his initial refusal, he knew for a fact he would do it for her anyway. 

For reasons he would rather not delve into at the moment, he would simply say that this new request was something simple. 

But monumental. 

Out of all the things she wanted, she chose to come to him to change her name. 

The task itself was laughably simple. She could have easily asked for any other hack with a penchant for detail, but she had chosen him. Again. 

Tomoyo Kurosawa. 

He had raised a brow at her choice, wondering if there was a hidden meaning to it, but he had shrugged it off in favor of making sure that she had wired him an appropriate amount of money instead of the entire bill. 

“You can’t just drop large amounts of money like that without thinking,” he scolded. In an attempt to make himself sound like he didn’t care as nearly as much as he actually did, he added, “Be careful what you do. I don’t want to be implicated in fraud.”

He paused. 

“You have never disclosed where you received all that money from, by the way.”

“My last job.” And that was the end of the matter.

Chapter Text

While he wouldn’t think himself to be a pessimist, he was a downright grounded realest. As a person who had seen the worst of people for many, many years (and considered himself to be just as bad), it was not a surprise that his thoughts regarding the newly minted Tomoyo Kurosawa would hold a rather dim light. 

After her second impromptu visit wherein she had given him another task, he had thought it would be the last time he would ever see her. Act nice, be coy, and get what she wanted from him. If she were any other person, that was probably the thoughts that were running through her head. Furthermore, her sudden appearance at his front door was a mere blip on his radar—unexpected and for a moment, something that he thought would give him more entertainment. For a while, he assumed that her appearance in his life would be as fleeting as his memories of happiness.

After erasing all of her previous information and painstakingly creating a new identity for her, he assumed that he would receive payment and that would be the end.

So, it was rather concerning that the day after he gave her the legal documents proving that she had always been Tomoyo Kurosawa, the very same woman found herself at his doorway once more.

Common sense told him that his life would be that much more simple if he turned her away now. Last he checked, which was half an hour ago, she had paid him in full after sending him a message that she had received the documentation. So, why was she here?

However, his lust for adventure, the yearning for something more out of his life, said otherwise. Why not let her in? Let her come into his apartment and state her business?

What would he have to lose?

His boredom?

His slow descent into apathy and slothfulness?

And so, after he made a halfhearted attempt to clean up his apartment a little, he turned the knob and let her in.

"Finally," she breathed out in appreciation. Her eyes glittered with mischief as she passed her phone from hand to hand, the screen showing that she had been on a timer app. "It only took you five minutes!"

"Were you hoping that I was going to immediately open my door?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's the dream. However, I think you're losing your touch; I was expecting that you would take even longer."

He led her back towards his kitchen table, the one spot in his apartment that he felt comfortable enough with having guests—her, just her—sitting. Despite his overall apathy to anyone else, he felt... off, that she would catch another glimpse of his lifestyle that surely would not hold a candle to the life that she had led before.

"Back to business—"

"It's always business with you."

"—what are you doing here? You already paid in full and I would assume that Miss Kurosawa would not want to be caught fraternizing with a criminal on the run."

Her magenta eyes glittered with barely concealed mirth. "You're not exactly running."

"And you're not exactly the pinnacle of a civil servant." They were getting nowhere with such banter, yet a part of him yearned for this exchange of dialogue. It reminded him of old times. Of an opportunity that he let pass by so long ago had now sprung anew in front him. However— "Were you not satisfied with the work I put in?"

Such a thought should have been impossible! Had it been anyone else, he would have not entertained them any longer than he had to. It was hard to get out of this mental funk that he had been stewing in for so long, but it was far outside of his purview to give someone subpar work. If he wanted to slack off in a middle of a project, better that he say no right away and reject it. Why even try if he couldn't get a perfect score during the first go around?

A tiny drop of unease settled in his veins, but he refused to bow down to such an emotion.

If she had a complaint, it would either be so minute he could play it off as her being overly picky or something that didn't constitute as a mistake and he could live knowing that he hadn't disappointed her.

The very next thing she said nearly had him bowling over his chair in disbelief.

"Very dissatisfied!" She wagged a finger in front of him, her eyes a faux mockery of austere authority. He felt his heart melt in his chest, seemingly happy that she was playing with him. "I thought we were friends! You just sent a weird little man to give me the documents! Couldn't you have given them to me yourself? Or at the very least made an appointment? Seems a bit impersonal if you ask me."

He raised a brow. "Do you honestly think that I regularly step foot outside of this apartment? You should applaud me for doing what you requested and sparing you the exertion to come visit me in person. I'm stimulating the economy.'

Her lips pursed. "I think the fatherland would forgive you if you did the job yourself. Also, all that talk about security last week? And you gave my address to an unknown third party?"

He rolled his eyes. As if he would let something happen to her. If she were to ever fall into distress, it would be of her own doing, not his intervention.

"I personally vetted him and had been working with him for years at this point. You're fine."

She brightened. "You got yourself a friend?"

This woman…

"I wouldn't call a man who's basically a low level hoodlum with a penchant for self preservation to be my friend. He got in trouble with another client of mine and I just so happened to bail him out with the promise that he acts as my eyes and ears from time to time. Far from a friend."

"... so you do care. I'm glad that you finally grew a heart while I was gone."

He chose to withhold the heavy sigh that threatened to leave his mouth. "What brings you here, woman?"

The smile upon her face said it all—she saw through his evasion of the sentimentality she implied. "How cold! Now that I'm officially a citizen with a normal civilian name, I can finally enjoy life's greatest joys!"

The corner of his lips twitched as he shut down the urge to smile.

Her logic was simple and vastly flawed—she could have easily enjoyed life's greatest joys even without having a new civilian name. If she were smart, she could have easily done so. But, he supposed that he could it from her point of view. Running from the law had a habit of turning one either uncannily shrewd or irreparably paranoid. In this case, he didn't know what to think, but he would take her optimism over another's altered mental state any day.

"Okay." He mulled her words over, his brows creasing. "What does this have to do with me?"

The resulting grin on her face could have easily replaced his need for any and all lighting in his apartment. "To repay you for your hard work, why not hang out with me?"

"... you already paid me."

"Fine." She threw her hands in the air as if she were being arrested. "You got me. I just want to hang out with you, so let's go!"

"I will have to decline. While you are clearly a normal civilian with an equally normal life—" He stated, echoing her earlier words. "—I, most certainly, am not. Unfortunately, I have other work to do."

Most other humans would have taken that as a clear sign to to leave. Instead, the woman took this as an invitation to make herself comfortable at his table, her eyes were wide with curiosity and understanding.

"Like a job? What are you doing? Can't be something like an ordinary nine to five, it's way after seven right now!"

"It's… not."

"Oooohhhh!" She propped her chin upon her steepled hands. Like a child awaiting a story that was surely jam packed with adventure, thrills, and perhaps a dash of romance. "Do tell!"

Her childlike curiosity and enthusiasm reminded him so much of the children he would see playing in the arcade that he would sometimes visit in the heart of the city. Once upon a time, he was like those children—forever wanting to be the best, to showcase how well he could play games. He lived for the thrill of beating scores, of making a name for himself. The colors, the sounds. He could live off it alone.

Once upon a time was so long ago…

Perhaps that meant a new chapter was bound to begin.

It was the memory of who he was, what he could have been were it not for everything else, that had him answering her without any further hesitation.

It was foolish on his part, but she always made him foolish.

"It's a side business," he admitted. "I mod keyboards."

Within the mostly quiet apartment, the truth rang out. Every syllable was well enunciated, yet hushed. The words were not meant to be overly shared; they were only meant for her alone.

A few years ago, he didn't exactly keep track, he had modded a keyboard for a foreign client. He wasn't sure how the client found him, but they had decided to spread the word via a video review and had uploaded it onto a popular social media website. Word spread among other keyboard modders and hobbyists, and both foreigners and Japanese modders alike were quick to reach out to him.

At first, he had been reclusive in their efforts to try and reach out to him—never in a million years would he have thought that his little side business (more of a hobby really) would have blown up like this—but then he reconsidered. It was a good source of revenue and try as he might…

It would be nice to get some clean money that wasn't something he felt was beneath him or was too tedious.

Personally, he thought it was a little gimmicky, but he was interested in what sort of prompts people gave him. Only the best prompts were chosen and while he didn't charge as much as he should have at first, he eventually made a name for himself in such a niche community.

When he finished, he had expected that she would have laughed at him—imdulgent, like a mother who was listening to her child wax poetic about his dreams of going into space or some other nonsensical dream—but instead:

"Can I see how you do it?"

Defensively, a part of him wanted to rise up and say no. Say that she should get going and if she really wanted, they could leave together.

But—

He had acquiesced.

A part of him did it to please her. But another part of him… he wanted to show her what he could do, what he was capable of. He was more than just a hacker who could easily reinvent or destroy someone's life. His fingers and his intellect was far more creative than what anyone else—himself included—could have given him credit for.

He could create.

And with those creations, he could make people happy.

(And make money too).

It took a fair amout of time—a little longer than he usually did because his hands were shaking in a mixture of excitement and nerves—but eventually, he made a keyboard based on an old suggestion that someone made a few years ago. The commentor was clearly a troll who wanted to get a rise out of him because he liked keyboards that were clean and sleek, which provided a clear, creamy sound. However, after he created a keyboard with a base that was made out of cardboard…

It didn't sound that bad.

Even if she didn't have any prior knowledge or appreciation of the art, she could clearly see the difference how a keyboard with raised sides compared with a keyboard you could clearly hear. It was an interesting difference that had the both of them in awe at the change.

"Maybe all keyboards in the future should be mounted by keyboard alone," he mused to himself.

"They'd have to pay you a lot less, though," she noted. When she caught the wayward uptick to his lips, she added, knowingly, "The presentation alone is enough to deter at least half your fanbase."

"You assume too much—" The laugh that came from him was startling. Not to her. To him. "—I don't have a fanbase!"

They could have easily argued that point further—and he wouldn't have minded if they did, their conversations were chock to the brim with fun and challenges—but she was hungry. Once she got it in her head that whatever was in his kitchen cabinets was neither not enough nor edible enough for dinner, she hurried out the door so she could—

"Gonna pick up dinner! Clean up and set the table!"

He tried to pull her back, briefly scolding her that his neighbors wouldn't take too kindly to their loud conversation. "Listen, you don't have to—"

She placed one, slender finger against his lips, rendering him silent. Not a bad play from her, one that he wouldn't be against seeing her play again. "Too late! I'm going to get us some healthy food so don't you dare lock me out because I will be spending so much money on you!"

When his apartment door closed, he found himself smiling to himself.

The apartment (even without her) felt brighter. More lived in.

This was… nice.

She made everything feel nice. Better even.

Eventually, it becomes a routine between the two of them. She would show up after work, tired and stressed after a dull workday of being a civil service worker. The entire time, he would tease her for getting a boring job that seemed to suck the soul out of her every time she clocked in. Meanwhile, he would either work on his games, his under the table dealings, or on his modding side business.

It was in the midst of soldering and lubing his keycaps for another client that he realized that she was watching his every move. She was leaning against his work desk, a concentrated look on her face. Dark circles hung under her eyes and her hair was limp from a hard day's work at the office. But when she stared down at his hands, how focused he was, she was content.

He wanted to make her happy.

And so, he began to teach her what he knew.

Every day, he would let her help on modding keyboards, which allowed him to accept more silly requests, just so he could watch her tackle the work. Together, they worked on new techniques, laughed together at the weirdest requests they had ever gotten, and talked about the most mundane thing.

It's strange, but when he thought the days would grow dull and too stable with her, he found that he welcomed the tranquility. He wasn't aimlessly floating through life, seeking out new challenges. She was the challenge and she was forever making him work. And even if she wasn't a challenge, he didn't find her presence boring at all.

He simply liked her for all of who she was.

In fact, her coming to his apartment and talking about her day, every day, was what he looked forward to the most.

As more time passed, he added more cushions and blankets to the couch. Made sure that his kitchen cabinets and fridge were stocked with food. He began to teach himself how to cook more advanced dishes. Soon, after weeks of debating with himself, he switched out his lights for something more warm rather than clinical and glaring on the eyes. And candles to add a soothing scent in the air.

When she realized all the changes that he was making, she had nudged him on the shoulder knowingly, but made sure to compliment him as much as she was able without being too overbearing.

And—

It was at that exact moment when he realized that she soothed him, respected his boundaries, and pushed him to become more, that he—

He wanted to level up to the next boss battle.

They're out on the town when it happens. For once, he was the one to ask if she would like to spend some time outside. He had been expecting happiness, yes, but the way she leaped in the air made his heart swell in joy. He had made that happen! Him!

While it was nothing too special, neither of them needed or wanted anything special. Together, they were enough.

After a mishap with an old lady at a takoyaki stand, they took a walk throughout the better parts of the city. There is nothing special, nothing noteworthy. Perhaps if he thought about it like a game, he would have tried harder. Should have put more thought and effort into how he would like to progress.

But real life isn't a game that he can grind or strategize to get better outcomes.

Sometimes, you don't even make a conscious decision on your part.

You simply do.

It's when there's sauce at the corner of her lips, her eyes are crinkled and shut in mirth, and he's trying so hard to defend why he loves jelly drinks so much that he says it, blurts it out more like, there's no intended romance, just pure adoration and maybe even lov—

He said it—

"You have the keycaps to my heart."

And it's in that moment, when his cheeks are flushing in embarrassment, his fingers twisting and fidgeting with the cardboard that holds his takoyaki that he sees her looking at him. And he feels like… He feels like he has won.

He feels like his spent entire life chasing after something that he thought he could have won in games, but now? Now, he knew he should have been chasing this invigorating high elsewhere.

Neither achievement nor trophy could have given him someone who looked at him like she was—like he had singlehandedly halted the earth mid-turn upon it's axis.

She took his hand within hers before holding it up to her cheek. Her face was soft and he relished in the feeling, hoping against hope that he hadn't botched everything.

"You stumped me there, I can't argue against that." She nuzzled into his palm. "So I guess I'll have to keep holding your keycaps until I find a better pun."

His heart leaped in his chest when he could feel her plush lips brush against the creases of his palm.

"Deal?"

Never in a million years would he ever admit that he found his knees buckling and his face flushing. And never in a billion more would he ever admit that he found this feeling far more addicting than winning any of the games he had played in his life.

He swallowed hard, hoping that his answer didn't sound as weak and breathless as he felt.

"Deal."