Archive of Our Own

Seiji is standing there with his arms folded, glowering in silence as Akira sits reading comfortably on his bed. 

It takes a minute or two for him to actually voice what’s on his mind, though Akira has a sneaking suspicion he already knows what it’s going to be about.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“It’s in my spot.”

Akira looks down at where the little black cat is curled up on his lap and sighs, “Ok, first off, that’s not ‘your spot’. Second, there are plenty of other places in here that you can sit. Just pick somewhere else.”

He can feel Seiji’s eyes narrow where they’re fixed on him, a sure sign of his growing discontent.

“Are you even allowed pets in this apartment?”

“No,” Akira pauses, then glares up, “And the Building Manager’s not gonna find out, right?”

Seiji lets out a soft snort of a laugh and turns away, “Maybe, maybe not. That’ll depend entirely on you, buddy.”

“Are you seriously getting bent out of shape over a cat?”

“Not especially,” Seiji replies as he wanders over to the kitchen. He’s trying to sound airy, but Akira can see him pacing in his peripherals, dithering, before crouching down to take a look at the contents of his fridge, “...You’re feeding the mangy freeloader fresh meat? A bit pricey for its palate, don’t you think?”

Akira shrugs, scritching the cat behind its ear, “He likes it. Besides, if I buy cat food, someone might see the cans in the trash.”

“Ah, so it’s disposal of the evidence that you’re worried about,” Seiji turns back to look at him with a darkly mischievous smile, “Would you like my help? I can aid you in this little ruse of yours. Assuming my demands are met, that is.”

“Your demands being…?”

Seiji snarls and forcefully smacks the fridge door shut, “That you get that damn creature out of my spot.”

“Not happening,” Akira replies, and smiles when the cat nuzzles affectionately up against his hand.

---

It was a week ago that it had happened.

In an effort to air out his living space (and avoid adding to the alleged ‘stink’ of his apartment), Akira had left his balcony door open whilst he got to work on cooking up his dinner; He had managed to snag a quality cut of fish at a discount just before the store’s closing time, and whilst he was sure it was going to taste good enough, the smell of it certainly wasn’t going to do the air quality of his quarters any favours.

After plating up with some rice and a few steamed vegetables as a side, he set out his meal on the table and returned to the kitchen to grab a can of whatever it was that he had sitting at the back of his fridge. 

Not the special edition 'seaweed sweetened tea' that Seiji had foisted on him earlier in the day. Thankfully, there was a bottle of Pocari Sweat right beside it, so he grabbed it with a sigh of relief before turning his attention back to where his food was waiting.

That was when he had seen it:

A cat.

It was a little thing, practically pint-sized; Black and downy, with big, amber yellow eyes.

Not that size, shape, or anything else mattered more than what it was currently doing - and what it was currently doing was chowing down, enthusiastically, on his freshly made meal.

“Hey,” he frowned, moving quickly towards the animal, “What the hell? Scram, you little thief!”

It didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by his approach, or by his furious demands that it take a hike. Instead, it seemed more than happy to ignore him completely, bits of fish hanging from its mouth as it continued to chomp and chew away with tiny, sharpened fangs. Annoyed though he was, Akira could admit to being almost impressed - the thing had a lot of guts to keep going like it was, and despite its diminutive stature, it was managing to devour a pretty substantial amount of food.

His food, as his growling stomach quickly reminded him. 

He snarled, bending down to curl his hands around the puny creature, “Get off of my dinner-”

The very instant he lifted it from the ground, the cat let out a pitiful, plaintive sound that had Akira dropping it in a hurry, a jolt of alarm running through him at the thought that he might have inadvertently managed to injure the animal. Had he used too much force? He hadn’t meant to. Honestly, he had tried to be as gentle as possible given- 

Straight away, the cat was back to devouring the fish.

“...You’re pretty ballsy, huh?” he glared. 

Sucking the air in through his teeth, he reached down again to pick the cat back up - this time ignoring its clever attempts to elicit sympathy as it squeaked and mewed at being separated from its meal. 

His meal.

Regardless, it didn’t put up as much of a fight as he anticipated, wriggling uselessly before settling against him with a surprising amount of resignation.

“How the hell did you even get up here?” he muttered, carrying it out onto the balcony and peering over the edge, “Did you climb the draining or something?”

The cat, being a cat, didn’t reply.

Akira sighed, “Well, whatever. You can’t stay here. Come on, get back to wherever it is you came from.”

Setting it down, he made his way back inside and slid the balcony door open to just a sliver; Not ideal, but even a miniscule amount of ventilation would be better than none at all.

With that now dealt with, he wearily eyed the aftermath of the unexpected invasion and pondered how the hell he was going to salvage his now mangled meal.

His assessment of the situation was interrupted by a tiny, tenacious squeak and the sound of the balcony door shifting, barely, from behind him. Turning his head, he found the cat with it’s little paw curled around the screen, edging it open bit by bit until it was finally able to squeeze its scrawny body nimbly back inside.

“Are you fucking kidding me-” Akira lunged sideways, slamming down a foot to try and block its entry back into his abode, “Hey, no.”

With an irritated grunt, he quickly scooped it up, dropped it outside, and slammed the balcony door shut in a bid to prevent any further intrusions. Fine, his apartment was going to stink, but better that than having his food stolen out from right underneath his nose.

Although after all that, what food he did have left was looking pretty unappetising. But he wasn’t about to go wasting what was still perfectly edible, and after trimming off the parts of the fish that the cat had managed to maul, he sat himself down to actually try and get a piece of his now lukewarm meal.

Just as he took the first mouthful, he heard the sound of soft and muffled mewling, glancing over to find the cat pushing its head and paws hopelessly against the glass pane of the unyielding balcony door. 

Try as it might, there was no way in hell that it was getting back inside; The door was closed fast, and Akira wasn’t about to waste any more time in dealing with its antics. Nope. No way. He was going to eat his meal, and steadfastly ignore any further attempts to disrupt what little was left of his evening. 

Even if the sight of it did fill him with an unwarranted amount of guilt.

And the sad scraping of its paws left him feeling like he had done something kind of cruel.

And those pathetic, mournful noises inexplicably made the food taste dry and bitter.

Akira took a long time to finish that first bite, chewing it over and over as the tapping continued and the meowing persisted, until finally, he swallowed it down and let out a long, defeated sigh.

Barely two minutes later, he had portioned off some of the fish onto a smaller, separate plate and reopened the door with a click.

“Here,” he huffed, placing the offering down by the table as the cat eagerly trotted on over, “Then you’re leaving. Got it?”

Again, the cat didn’t answer - but the gentle rumble of a purr emanating from it’s tiny body felt almost like it might have been in thanks.

Once they had both finished eating, Akira sat sipping from his bottle as he observed the way it licked the plate clean before diligently getting to work on washing itself. 

“Guess you were pretty hungry,” he mused, setting the bottle down and getting to his feet, “Alright, a deal’s a deal. You’ve finished up, so-”

No sooner did his hand touch the handle was he interrupted by the heavy crackle of rain - a sudden, almighty downpour lashing fiercely against the glass.

...Like some higher power had chosen that exact moment to thwart him.

Feeling his jaw clench, he glanced over at where the cat was now kneading at his bedsheets, back at the rainy streets outside, and drew in a deep, deep breath.

“...Goddammit.”

There was no getting out of this. Not without feeling like an ass, at least.

With a heavy sigh, he collapsed down next to it, hesitating briefly before holding out a hand for it to give an inquisitive sniff then a headbutt.

“Just until the rain stops. And if I find out you’ve used any part of my place as a litter tray, I’m throwing you out. I mean it.”

It quickly became clear that the rain wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, and by the time Akira was done showering and washing up, the cat was curled up fast asleep; A little black ball of fluff occupying the otherwise empty space down at the foot of his bed.

“Making yourself at home, huh...” he grumbled with half-hearted exasperation.

Upon clicking off the light, he took his time in easing himself down onto the mattress; He had been getting pretty good at sharing his sleeping space ever since Seiji had become a regular bedmate, and part of that had included the conscious decision to not just throw his full weight down like a felled tree whenever he got into bed.

(Even if there was something unexpectedly cute about his grumpy little half-awake noises.)

Thanks to that consideration, the cat remained undisturbed, and soon he had settled back with a quiet sigh, more than ready to switch off himself and get a good night’s rest.

So often he didn’t realise just how tired he was until the time came to actually get some shut eye, and within moments of his eyelids falling closed, sleep was upon him, ferrying his fading consciousness away to the soothing sound of rain and a happy, satisfied purr settling gently against his side.

---

One night turned into two. Then three. Then more.

Ami, of course, had been over the moon upon discovering his new little ‘friend’. The very moment she had seen it, she had let out an excited squeal of delight and wanted to know its name.

“It’s not my cat, so I’m not naming it.”

“But you have to!” she insisted.

Akira was wary of that; Naming it would be like admitting some level of responsibility for the creature, and as much as he enjoyed its company, he still wasn’t one hundred percent certain he actually wanted a cat. 

Or if, indeed, he could legitimately claim to own one.

“It might belong to someone, y’know,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s probably already got a name. How’d you feel if a stranger took your pet and renamed it?”

Him explaining it like that seemed to strike a chord, and Ami’s indignant pout swiftly morphed into a look of wide eyed worry.

“Then we should try finding them,” she replied quickly, “Big Brother, can we take a look around? We might find some 'missing' posters if his owner is out searching for him.”

“Alright, fine. But tomorrow, ok?” Akira knew better than to argue when she got that look in her eye; Best to placate her for now and deal with it later.

It worked… for that evening, at least. He still found his Sunday morning taken up by an aimless, two hour walk about at his young cousin's behest as they scoured the surrounding neighbourhood for any sign that someone might have been on the hunt for a missing pet. 

Ultimately it had proven fruitless - there wasn’t a single poster in sight, and as drops of rain started to darken the concrete underfoot, Akira made the decision that it was time enough to call it.

“Come on, let’s head back. We can stop by the store and grab some lunch on the way.”

“Okay,” Ami agreed, and peered up at him with a look of impish optimism, “So does this mean you’re gonna keep him?”

“...Maybe.”

Despite the intended vagueness of his reply, the pleased peep she made in response rather sounded like a decision had already been made.

...Whilst he didn’t care to admit it at the time, maybe it actually had.

---

So it seemed, for the time being at least, that the cat would stay. Ami and Hazuki had both completely fallen in love, and were now wanting to drag Akira on all kinds of crazy shopping trips to procure a collar, or a bed, or toys and treats and whatever else they thought might please the furry little interloper.

Akira didn’t have the first idea how the hell he was supposed to care for a cat, so their help wasn’t totally unappreciated (even if he would have preferred that they dialled the enthusiasm back, just a notch). 

On the other hand, any kind of shopping spree was totally out of the question. Keeping pets is definitely against the terms of his tenancy, so there would have to be a strict limit on the amount of cat related paraphernalia littering his apartment; That meant no bed, no toys, and no cans of cat food.

That last one posed a minor issue. The cat was clearly going to need to be fed, so after some discussion, it was decided that raw meat would be a suitable alternative - though at the rate his 'roommate' ate the stuff, it was safe to say that it was a creature of expensive tastes.

Expensive tastes or not, he wasn’t going to keep it cooped up like some sort of pampered pet. It was evidently used to wandering the streets, so he was more than happy to put it out whenever he was away, and only let it back inside once he had returned.

And ‘wandering’ was something that it did a lot.

Those absences could stretch out for hours, sometimes even a whole day, and it would leave Akira thinking that maybe it had grown bored - that it had hit the road and ditched him for pastures new.

He wasn’t sure what sort of business the animal might have had, but it always seemed to return once those activities had been concluded; However long that might have been.

Maybe, reluctantly, he could admit to being sort of relieved about that.

Just a little.

“You’re kind of selfish,” he muttered, thinking there was something strangely familiar about the way it casually waltzed its way in and out of his life as it pleased.

As he said that, the cat perked up suddenly, round eyed and twitchy eared as it whipped its head abruptly to stare at one of the empty corners of his apartment.

Akira blinked once, puzzled.

“...What are you looking at?” he murmured mostly to himself, looking over where its eyes were fixed, unmoving, on the entirely unremarkable space where the walls intersected.

Come to think of it, he could vaguely recall Hazuki having mentioned that cats were known to have keen supernatural senses. 

Was this something to do with that?

Eventually the animal snapped out of its trance and happily settled down to sleep, leaving Akira to brush the whole incident aside without even a moment’s hesitation.

“Real weird,” he hummed, leaning down beside it, “Well, if it keeps you entertained, I guess that’s fine.”

---

He might have known that not everyone would have taken a liking to the animal.

And of course, that same ‘not everyone’ was more than happy to make that perfectly clear from the very moment that they had been introduced.

“And what have you decided to call the little furball?” Seiji asked with an air of icy reservation. 

“Kuro.”

“Ah. About as creative as I should have expected,” he smirked, eyeing the creature warily before giving a light shrug and unfolding his arms, “Though I can’t say I ever pinned you for being a cat person.”

Akira thought about asking him to elaborate, looking on as Seiji reached a hand down towards Kuro's head - but before he could even open his mouth, the cat’s ears flicked back, eyes wide and fangs bared, as it hissed suddenly and took a swipe at him.

“Ow! You nasty, little-” Seiji immediately snatched his hand back and stared down, furious, at the hairline scratch swelling on his skin. With a growl, he levelled a bloodthirsty scowl at the cat, teeth ground together, and hissed back, “I’ll turn you into dog food-!”

Akira quickly grabbed the animal, half turning his body to shield it from his wrath, “Hey, watch it.”

“The beast attacked me ,” Seiji protested, clutching at his hand, “Take some responsibility and discipline it like a decent owner should.”

“I doubt he meant anything by it,” Akira sighed as he glanced down; Kuro was glowering out from where it was cradled in his arm, tail swishing and swooping and thumping against him in obvious displeasure.

“Ugh, just look at this. Cats' claws are covered in all sorts of disgusting bacteria, you know that?  What if it’s infected?”

“Wanna cut it off to be safe?” Akira asked dryly, the sarcasm in his voice serving only to aggravate the other even further.

“Brute. I can’t believe you’d make light of my suffering like this.”

Rolling his eyes, Akira just grabbed his hand and pressed the wound up against his mouth. The gesture saw Seiji go completely still; Silenced with a small, startled sound the instant he drew his lips around the line of broken skin. 

“...That better?” he asked after a long moment, giving it another, light peck before finally letting go.

He could see the way Seiji was schooling his expression; The way his frown had eased, just slightly, to accommodate the rounding of his eyes and the subtle, inward curl of his lips. Gaze flicking sideways, he mumbled, “...It’s not a snake bite, moron. The antiseptic still under the sink?”

Akira held back a smile, shifting his stance so that Kuro could climb up onto his shoulder, “Yeah, should be.”

His outrage seemingly forgotten (or at the very least, temporarily pacified), Seiji made his way to the kitchen to start the unnecessarily meticulous treatment of his scratch. Akira was well aware, as he sat there watching him from his bed, that he had endured far worse before now without ever having batted an eye, so it was quite clear that all the theatrics were simply to make a point.

The point being that he wanted Akira’s sympathy, and was annoyed at the fact that he wasn’t getting it.

Seiji glanced over at him as he dabbed the solution on his hand, another minute twitch in his expression suggesting that he had been caught off-guard.

“...What are you smirking at?” he asked with perfect nonchalance

“Nothing,” Akira answered plainly, scratching Kuro beneath its chin, “How’s it looking? Think you’ll live?”

“Just about,” Seiji sighed, eventually wandering back over to him when he had finished. He glared at where the cat was perched on Akira’s shoulder, purring cheerfully, and sneered, “Don’t let it fool you, Akira. There’s a demon hiding behind that cute, fuzzy face.”

Akira quirked an eyebrow and snorted as he pushed up onto his feet, “Sounds a hell of a lot like someone else I know.”

“Touché,” Seiji smirked back, “Though I know better than to go around scratching people.”

“The marks on my back tell a different story,” Akira countered, slipping his hands around Seiji’s waist and squeezing, “You think I should get some antiseptic on those too?”  

At that, Seiji's smile instantly drew wider, any lingering iciness melting quickly at being presented the opportunity for a bit of salacious flirtation. Chuckling softly, he stepped closer, tilting his head just so before dragging a finger down languidly over Akira’s chest, “I'll have you know that my nails are perfectly clean.”

Maybe it was simply a case of getting what he wanted, but there was still something to be said for just how predictable he could be sometimes. It was nice. Familiar. And that made Akira return the smile, sighing softly as he leant down to give him the kiss that he must have been expecting-

In a split second, he caught a flash of something black moving out of the corner of his eye, clocking an attack as Kuro’s paw came flying right past him and straight for the other’s face. Thankfully it didn’t connect, owed mostly to a swift combination of his pushing Seiji away, and Seiji’s own clumsy efforts to avoid the strike - but from the murderous look in the other’s eyes, a different kind of damage had undoubtedly been done.

“That does it-” Seiji snarled, bristling furiously, “I’m gonna kill it, seriously, come here you flea ridden piece of-!”

Following the incident, it had taken almost a full half hour to persuade Seiji to give up on his plans for payback - and to prevent his angry, vengeful limbs from reaching where Kuro had hurriedly taken refuge beneath the bed.

---

As it is, things still haven’t improved; Seiji hates the cat, and the cat, as far as Akira can tell, hates Seiji.

Hazuki, being one of his available cat experts, has suggested that the reason for that might be because it can detect Seiji’s aura of animosity; That by sensing his hostile feelings, it’s simply reacting in kind.

He wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. Not that it helps to fix the problem.

For now, though, things have somehow fallen into a kind of balance.

There seems to be an unspoken agreement in place; An accord, of some sort, to reduce the chances of any more unpleasant encounters by deciding who gets to be in which part of the apartment at any given time. 

Where Seiji is, Kuro isn’t - and vice versa. 

Almost like they’ve sat down and divvied up the 'territory' between themselves whilst he wasn’t looking.

...Even though it’s his place.

“I need you to drink this. Right now,” Seiji insists, enthusiastically pushing a can into his open hand.

Akira glares down at the latest crime against his taste buds, turning it over as he wonders if this is legitimately some kind of attempt to poison him.

“Natto iced coffee…”

“Doesn’t that sound absolutely vile?” Seiji grins, “Come on, I want to see if that iron stomach of yours can handle it.”

“Like I wanna risk losing my lunch,” Akira sighs, leaving it on the counter, “Though I guess it’s more appetising than the dead mice I keep finding in my shoes.”

“How cute. The little monster is still threatening you with headless rodents, I take it?”

“Hazuki says they’re supposed to be gifts, though I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to do with something like that.”

“Perhaps they’re a simple offering to show that it’s willing to kill for you,” Seiji suggests with a faintly disconcerting amount of insight, “Though actually presenting you with the dead bodies seems a little crass.”

"Whatever the reason, I wish he'd stop-”

Akira blinks back his surprise when Seiji reaches up to rest a palm up against his cheek, closing the distance with a soft and tender smile.

"Just to be clear, I'm also willing. Not that I'd do it personally, but I have people who could do that sort of thing… On my behalf," he looks up through his lashes, perfectly adoring if not for the sinister intent lurking behind his eyes, “Just say the word, and-”

"-I ain’t saying shit."

Seriously, Akira is starting to wonder what it is about him that inspires this kind of murderous 'devotion'. He would be happy to shrug it off if it were just Seiji (even if he never can be too sure just how serious he’s actually being).

But then there was Kakuya, and now this cat-

It’s kind of unsettling. Is there some sort of signal that he’s putting out?

Regardless, Seiji's suggestion about what the mangled corpses might mean may not be so far from the truth, and as the bodies continue to pile up, he’s not sure how long it will be before the local rodent population has been totally decimated. 

Maybe once it’s run out of mice, it’ll move on to larger quarry; Like rats, or small dogs.

Though they’re not as likely to fit into his shoes, at least.

Finishing that thought, he glances over to see Kuro padding its way quickly back in through the balcony door, with something very obviously hanging from its mouth.

“Hey, what the hell do you have there?” Akira rolls up from where he's reclining on his bed and rushes over to try and wrestle the animal’s jaws open.

As expected, it is a mouse - but this one isn’t dead, and as soon as it hits the ground, it bolts - scampering in a desperate attempt for its tiny life.

It barely makes it half a foot before Kuro is on it, tossing it into the air and watching it hit the floor before it repeats the process again. Each time the mouse is caught a little sooner, and each time, Kuro’s paw is on it, dashing its pitiful and rapidly dwindling hopes of escape.

And as he watches the situation play out, Akira can’t help but think the scene resembles one that he’s witnessed more than once before.

---

Despite knowing full well that he’s never particularly cared for sweets, Seiji’s idea of a fun outing for them both still often seems to centre around the consumption of dessert. 

Akira might have taken the time to remind him of that fact… if he thought it’d make a lick of difference. For now, though, he’s accompanying him to a new dessert bar that’s opened up just around the corner from Kissouji station. It seems nice enough, bustling with evening activity, although the colour scheme is pretty garish, and the permeating smell of sugar something he would much rather do without. 

All that aside, this doesn’t feel like a normal date.

The private booth isn’t anything too unusual, though he does immediately realise that something is up when Seiji asks that he sit next to him, not across, and when he starts tapping away distractedly on his phone.

Not five minutes later, a grey faced, middle aged man in a suit makes his way over to their table and stands there sullenly. He’s far from the normal clientele Akira would expect in this sort of place, so it’s pretty clear what it is that’s about to happen.

“Mr Amanome?” the man asks. 

“Take a seat, Kenda,” Seiji smiles, gesturing across the table, “Did you want anything? The milkshakes here are pretty good.”

The friendly banter catches Akira’s attention; Rather than getting straight to business, Seiji is toying with him - purposefully trying to lure him into a false sense of security.

He doesn’t know what kind of shit this guy is in, but if Seiji is doing things like this, he figures it’s probably going to be bad.

“No, thank you,” the man declines politely as he slips into the seat. He’s trying hard to maintain an air of calm authority, and for the most part, he looks to be doing a good job of it.

Akira silently makes a bet with himself over how long this latest victim will last.

“Suit yourself,” Seiji shrugs and takes a sip from his straw, “...You know why you’re here, right, Kenda?”

The man’s tired gaze moves to Akira, and Akira latches on to it, maintaining eye contact as he takes a long, slow draught of his soda with all of the menace he can muster when surrounded by cotton candy décor and sugar sprinkle pop music.

The man swallows hard, tiny, hairline fractures starting to show in his stony composure when his eyes swivel back to Seiji. 

“The costing documents...”

“That’s right.”

There’s a pause, and the man clears his throat.

“Give me until the 15th. If you can wait until then, I’ll-”

“The deal was this morning, Kenda,” Seiji sighs, stirring his drink.

“I-I know,” Kenda grips his hands together to keep himself from fidgeting, “But the deadline for the Tokaimura contract was pulled forward, and…”

Seiji stares back, impassive, “...And?”

“Please, Mr Amanome,” the man strains, “My department is already at risk of being axed, and if this contract falls through I… I couldn’t bear the thought of my staff losing their jobs like that. I mean, Sato’s just had a second child, and Toyama’s divorce is already putting him through hell-”

“Well, isn’t that noble,” Seiji smiles benignly and leans back, “I guess it is pretty rare for someone of your station to treat those beneath him as actual humans and not just stones to be trampled underfoot. I’ll bet you’re the kind of guy whose underlings have nothing but kind words to say about him.”

The man’s face brightens, Seiji’s praise offering him the tiniest, most minute ray of hope.

“Then you’ll give me an extension-”

“-I don’t think so,” Seiji replies abruptly, deadpan in a way that Akira can see crushes the man like an avalanche, “I don’t see what your poor time management skills have to do with me, Kenda. Well, with the exception that they’re causing me something of an inconvenience.”

“But-”

“-You’re an empathetic guy, yeah? What would you do if you were in my situation?”

“I… I, uh…”

The man stutters, sweating up a storm as he starts to babble incoherently. Seiji just sits there watching him, letting him stew, before smirking and turning to Akira. 

“Alright. Akira, what about you? Say you gave this guy ample time to get you the info you asked for, and made it clear what would happen if he didn’t… what would you do?"

Akira sets his glass back on the table with more force than is strictly necessary, the crack of the impact causing the man to jump and startle, “-Crush the son of a bitch.”

He knows full well what his role is supposed to be in all of this, and Seiji's reaction makes it very clear that it was exactly the response he was hoping for. He looks like he’s trying so hard not to laugh, lips twitching briefly before he reigns it back in with an admirable amount of restraint.

Though he can’t disguise the fact that his pupils have noticeably grown wider; Dark eyes sparkling in a certain, special way Akira recognises as delighted approval, tinged with the gently burning smoulder of some clandestine, indecent thrill.

“Now that certainly is an option...” 

Naturally, the man looks horrified.

“Wait, I-!”

“-I’m in a good mood, though, so here’s what we’ll do,” Seiji laces his fingers and smiles brightly; The guy looks like his heart is about to give out, desperation clear, and optimism a rapidly fading light in his twitchy, worry worn eyes, “I’ll give you one, final chance. You have until midnight to get me the information I’m asking for, or those photos are going to be forwarded to everyone you’ve ever so much as made eye contact with. Especially your company CEO and your dear, pregnant wife.”

“Mid… Midnight!?” the man sputters, the colour completely draining from his face, “But that’s-!”

“-Don’t push it, Kenda,” Seiji scowls, any frivolity in his voice turning into a dangerous precipice, “You wanted an extension, and I’ve been more than generous in giving you one. Or if you’d prefer, I already have a message typed out on my phone. All I have to do is click ‘send’, and my men will-”

“Alright!” Kenda slams his hands down on the table, “I-I understand. Midnight.”

“I’m sure you can do it. You’re not nearly as incompetent as you’re making yourself out to be - I mean, you certainly know how to balance a double life,” Seiji grins wickedly, predator to prey, “I’d say those photos make that very clear.”

Akira knows that with that, they’re done.

As soon as the man takes his leave, Seiji has his full attention on him, all praise and affection as he cuddles up close whilst offering to feed him a forkful of his strawberry cheesecake.

“C’mon, say ‘aah’,” he sings playfully, holding the morsel out to him.

Akira chomps it down without a second thought, deciding it’s probably best to just pretend the past few minutes never happened. It’s far too sweet for his tastes, but the loving smile he receives in return does something to make it more palatable.

Once they’re back outside, he pushes his hands into his pockets before the two of them set off. They alternate between chatting, and joking, and Seiji singing softly to the still, night-time air.

They take the quieter back streets, avoiding the crowds; He’s not sure which one of them made the decision, but with how well they move in tandem these days, the answer might be vaguer than expected. 

And if it gives him the chance to listen a little longer to the melody he knows means ‘happiness’, he doesn’t particularly care.

He snaps out of that introspection when the singing stops and he feels a persistent tugging at his sleeve.

“What?” 

“I want to hold your hand,” Seiji smiles back at him.

Blinking only once, Akira pulls a hand free so that Seiji can take it in his own, linking their fingers together with a small, satisfied sound before they continue the journey home.

Considering that he just ruined multiple peoples’ lives, one way or another, it should probably feel like an uncomfortably jarring act of intimacy and affection. 

But despite that, Akira finds that he doesn’t mind; When all is said and done, that’s just the kind of creature that he is.

---

There’s an almighty crash, and immediately, Akira is upright. 

Everything is pitch black, so it must still be night, and his half awake brain is trying to parse whether or not this sudden disturbance might be the sound of someone trying to break into his apartment. 

If they are, they’re in for a serious world of hurt.

In a flash, he leaps from his bed and flicks on the light, preparing to dish out some violence as he looks about himself for any sign of an intruder. 

Instead, what he finds is Kuro sat over on his cabinet, occupying the very same spot where one of his plants used to be; Said plant appears to have been toppled over - bits of broken ceramic and potting soil scattered messily across the floor.

He frowns as he lays the admittedly large pieces of evidence together, and forces down his adrenaline with a slow and steady breath.

“...Did you do this?”

Of course the question is rhetorical - more accusatory than anything. 

Kuro just stares back, quizzical, its tail flicking once before it gives a big, open mouthed yawn and jumps down in order to pad on through the mess as though it isn’t even there.

…The feline equivalent of ditching a crime scene with an all too innocent whistle.

“Hey,” Akira presses, “Are you seriously trying to act like it wasn’t you?”

He’s answered with the mollifying sound of purring as Kuro starts rubbing up against him, circling his legs like a gang of hungry sharks swimming about a pool.

Akira groans quietly and rests a hand up over his eyes, taking a moment to cool off before pushing his fingers back through his hair; Deciding that he might as well deal with it now, seeing as he’s already up and moving, he grabs a dustpan and brush so he can get to work on sweeping up. Thankfully the plant looks like it will survive, although it’s going to have to live in a mug until he can get to the store to buy it a new pot. 

He’s not sure exactly what it did to provoke Kuro’s wrath - If, indeed, it was wrath, and not just an honest accident. 

But the way Kuro is acting is just a little too sweet and cloying, and if it could talk, he’s pretty sure he could imagine what it might be saying;

‘It wasn’t me. But if it was, you couldn’t be mad, right? I’m far too cute for that.’

“Seiji was right,” Akira grumbles, “You’re a demon in disguise.”

There’s a pretty sounding, chirruping noise, and he turns to see Kuro playfully rolling about on his bed-

Dirt covered paws and all.

---

“So, I’ve been doing some thinking-”

“-That makes a change,” Akira gives a soft ‘oof’ as Seiji elbows him lightly in the ribs.

“-That little monster of yours,” he glances back over his shoulder, “He hates me because he’s jealous.”

Akira feels his face contort, catching between a frown and a smirk. He could have very nearly burst out laughing, but endeavouring to hold it back he replies, “Oh yeah?”

Seiji shifts where he’s seated in his lap so he can lean his weight back against him, “I mean, it makes sense that he would be, don’t you think? He wants you all to himself, so of course he’s going to see me as a threat.”

Akira just hums like he’s actually considering what he’s saying, resting his chin on his shoulder and pulling his arms a little tighter around his stomach, “Huh.”

“He’s pissed that someone who isn’t him is getting your attention,” Seiji continues, “That’s why he keeps trying to attack me. He sees you as his territory, so he’s determined to drive me off.”

“So you’re saying the reason for all of this is because he’s a possessive asshole-”

“Yeah.”

“-who doesn’t wanna share.”

“Precisely.”

Akira pauses, letting that accusation sink in.

“...We talking about the cat here, or you?”

“Excuse me-” Seiji tries to twist around, but Akira just collapses backwards onto the bed, leaving him to flail uselessly like a turtle stuck on its back, “Unhand me, you insolent son of a bitch!”

“Nah,” Akira replies flatly, closing his eyes as he snuggles up against him.

It’s all pretty routine; Seiji struggling, complaining, pretending like he’s actually entertaining the possibility of escape. He’s soon dropped the pretense, relaxing enough that Akira eases his grip so that he can turn onto his stomach.

After shifting, he rests his hands over Akira's chest, cushioning his chin and cocking his head to one side with a curious half-smile upon his lips.

“...Why, pray tell, would I be jealous of some scabby, worm riddled stray?”

“I don’t know,” Akira murmurs sleepily, “You tell me.”

“Oh, speaking of worms, have you heard of toxoplasmosis?” Akira can hear the morbid glee in his voice, “It’s disgusting. You get it from cats. Best of all, you might have already been infected, and not even know it.”

“Then I guess it’s too late to do much about it now.”

Seiji clicks his tongue, a look of disappointment making clear that he was hoping for a stronger reaction.

“Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you find out that you have a head full of brain parasites,” with a shit eating grin, he goes on to add, “...Not that I’d expect them to find much in there.”

There’s a grunt, followed by a muffled peal of laughter after Akira rolls over to smother him.

---

A plate of dried out minced meat is sitting untouched by the balcony door.

Akira has been setting a fresh one out for the past two days, hoping that Kuro’s latest wandering is just taking a little longer than usual. 

He wants to believe that at any moment now, it’ll come trotting in - led back home by the promise of a warm bed and the voracious rumble of its surprisingly spacious stomach.

And it is home… isn’t it? Sure, Akira has always wondered how long it might stick around, and yeah, maybe it really is just out on some new adventure-

But something doesn’t feel right. It's never been away for more than a full day before, and the agitated voice at the back of Akira’s head, whispering warnings that it's in trouble, or worse, has been growing louder and ever more persistent as the hours continue to tick on by. 

Soon, he can’t ignore it anymore. 

It might be raining, the blustery weather an unwelcome addition to the mix, but the moment he shares his concerns, Hazuki is raring to join him in a search for the missing animal. Of course, Ami is eager to help out too, and after begging and pleading and stamping her feet as hard as she can, Aunt Natsumi eventually relents, agreeing to let her accompany Hazuki as she conducts a thorough sweep of the surrounding area.

Akira is just about to head out himself with the intent to take the hunt further afield, when his doorbell rings and Seiji casually strolls his way inside.

“So the rat’s skipped out on you, huh?” he sighs once he’s had the situation explained to him, “That’s what you get for being too soft, Akira - letting a mangy runaway take advantage of you like that.”

Akira doesn’t like the unpleasant thought that’s crossed his mind - nor does he want to believe it, or give it the slightest bit of credence.

But it’s not going to go away, and feeling it start to fester, he decides to get it out, quickly, before it turns into something ugly.

“Did you have anything to do with this?”

Seiji scoffs, “Please. Are you seriously accusing me of offing your precious pet like some sort of jealous spouse?”

“...Should I be?” Akira scowls, taking a step towards him.

Seiji stares back - calm and unyielding as Akira faces him down. 

“As much as I would love to say ‘good riddance’ to the nasty little pest, this is something I’ve had absolutely no involvement in whatsoever,” Seiji pauses, then with an almost agonising amount of sincerity adds, “...I mean it, Akira.”

He knows the sound of his honesty, and having those misgivings eased, Akira’s burgeoning anger begins to subside, leaving a churning, anxious feeling in its wake.

“I don’t know where he could have gone,” he murmurs, glancing away uneasily.

“It’s a cat, man,” Seiji reaches for his arm in comfort, “They do this sort of thing-”

“-Not Kuro," Akira squeezes his fists closed and grits his teeth, "Seriously, something's off. Call it a hunch, or a gut feeling, or whatever. He should be home by now.”

“A gut feeling, huh…”

Seiji falls silent, eyes dropping to the floor as he bites his lip in contemplation.

“...You need people out looking for it, right?”

“Yeah,” Akira nods, “Hazuki has already taken Ami out to check the neighbourhood just in case he’s gotten stuck somewhere nearby, and I was about to head out myself when you-”

“-Excuse me a moment,” Seiji starts to take out his phone, and he’s barely even begun to turn before Akira catches his shoulder.

“Who are you calling?”

With a pleasant smile, Seiji slips a hand over the one gripping at his arm and says, “You need bodies out there, and I have bodies to spare. The more the merrier, don’t you think?”

Akira frowns, “You’re really gonna mobilise your guys to find my cat?”

Seiji shrugs like it’s no big deal, “Our dog got out once. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve been sent on a wild goose chase. Besides, I don’t have anything in particular planned for this evening, so what the hell.”

“Alright, then we’ll make a move as soon as you’ve-”

“Hold it,” he interrupts and presses a hand to Akira’s chest, ”I think it’d be best if you stayed here. Just in case he comes back.”

Being told he’s been benched immediately has Akira prickling, “No fucking way - you stay here instead, and I’ll-”

“-You really think he’s gonna come inside if he sees me here waiting?” Seiji smirks ruefully, “Sit your ass down, moron.”

It’s hard to argue with that, even if Akira seriously can’t stand the idea of kicking back and doing nothing. He’s simply not a ‘sit back and wait’ kind of guy.

...He’s a ‘rush in and punch it in the face’ kind of guy.

Not that it really helps in this situation. But knowing that everyone else will be out there, hitting the streets in the wind and the rain whilst he has to stay at home staring stupidly at the wall… It's frustrating. 

Infuriating, even.

It goes without saying that Seiji reads him like a book, and he gives his forehead a light flick the instant that he catches the first twitch of an impatient snarl.

“Cool it. Do some press-ups or something,” he folds his arms with a cocky grin; The sheer amount of self-confidence behind it actually ends up being an odd comfort, of sorts, “I'm going to find your hellion of a cat. And when I do, you’re going to reward me.”

“Reward you?” Akira frowns, “With what?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Seiji replies, a playful twist to his smirk as he grabs his umbrella and makes for the door, “I'll start my own search once I’ve called in some assistance, and the moment I have an update, I’ll be sure to let you know. In the meantime, sit tight and keep yourself busy. Okay?”

“...Ok.”

He can feel his nerves screaming from inaction already, but if anyone can coordinate a successful search effort, it’s Seiji. He trusts him, and it's that trust that’s keeping him from just recklessly acting out on his own without any consideration for the finer details.

So he stands where he is, watching the door close, and smacks a fist into his open palm as he prepares for the arduous task of simply staying put and waiting it out.

---

Hours pass before anything happens. Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

Akira whips his head to the door when he hears a loud, violent banging - like someone is hell bent on kicking it in.

The first thought that comes to mind is that it’s one of the Amanome thugs; Maybe one of the newer guys who hasn’t yet learnt how Seiji prefers to do things with something resembling a little more subtlety.

Upon opening the door, however, he’s surprised to find Seiji himself - tired, bedraggled, and covered in a myriad of sore looking cuts and grazes. 

Furthermore, there in his arms, swaddled tightly within his jacket like some sort of small, furry burrito, looking equally frazzled and just as pissed off, is Kuro.

“Seij-”

“Here. Take your stupid pet,” Seiji growls, dropping the pre-packaged animal into Akira’s open arms.

Akira turns as he staggers past him, not a little baffled by what he’s witnessing, “Hey, are you alright?”

“...I’m gonna borrow your bed,” is all the reply he gets, mumbled out whilst kicking off his shoes and crawling up onto the mattress.

Seconds later, Seiji is collapsed on his side - still, silent, soaked to the skin - but breathing softly whilst he takes a moment to recover from whatever ordeal he’s just experienced.

Akira decides not to disturb him, and lifts Kuro up so they’re face to face.

“You’ve been causing a shit ton of trouble, huh?” he scowls at the cat, who glowers back with a flicker of its ear. It’s that movement which prompts him to notice the light grazing on its head - a bit bloodied, though nothing too terrible compared to how Seiji is looking.

He’s eager for an explanation, and it occurs to him that thanks to certain, strange circumstances, he has the perfect opportunity to get one - first hand, no less.

Adjusting his grip so that Kuro is cradled securely in one arm, he takes a deep breath before touching his fingers gingerly to the dried, dark red clots dotting its fur-

And like a bucket of water, the memory of the blood comes washing over him.

-

He’s moving carefully along a concrete river embankment, trying to navigate his way through the area. It’s unfamiliar, and his leg hurts pretty bad - it’s aching with each step, making him sluggish.

He can feel his tiny heart racing. Something has him in a panic, full of fear and confusion, but there’s a determination there too, a strange compulsion-

“-located it on the north side, so-”

He hears a voice. Recognising it instantly, he looks up to see Seiji on his phone - looking back down at him from where’s standing behind the railing at the top of the tall, rain slick slope. There’s a pang of something negative when he sees him. Not hate, exactly, but he can feel his spine arch reflexively; His body tensing like he’s facing down an opponent. 

“-If you don’t get your asses over here right now, I swear to god I’ll-”

His body is twisting, turning, and suddenly he’s making a run for it, dashing back the way he came.

“Shit, wait-!”

Clanging, a gravely, skidding noise, then a yelp, a thud, and a grunt of pain. He can hear Seiji groaning in the distance, then the sound of shoes on wet concrete, pounding heavily not too far behind him- 

He’s being chased.

And knowing that he’s being chased is making him panic even more.

Darting beneath a nearby bridge, he looks about for an escape route before spotting a crisscrossing section of metal beams. His leg smarts like hell, but crouching back he fixes his eyes upon his target, summons all his strength, and makes a leap for it-

“Don't-!”

His front paws just barely manage to catch one of the beams. The water beneath him is moving quickly, rushing rapids roiling from the rain, and his leg is twinging, stinging painfully as he fails to get the leverage needed to clamber all the way; Despite his best efforts, he's left hanging there, wriggling helplessly like a worm stuck on a hook.

“-Stay right where you are, you dumb cat!”

He turns his head and sees Seiji - battered, breathless, and drenched from the rain. He’s hurriedly pulling off his jacket, holding it out in front of him like he’s brandishing a fishing net.

The next thing he knows, he’s being attacked; Engulfed and grabbed as that piece of clothing descends suddenly upon him.

So of course, he fights back. He yowls loudly, hissing and thrashing and lashing and scratching and biting-

“Stop struggling... you stupid… fucking... fleabag! Fuck-!”

It’s useless. Despite his struggles, he’s soon forced to the ground, heavy, thick fabric tightening all around him.

“I don’t give a damn if you want to die, but that idiot is gonna mope for weeks if anything happens to you, so just sit still and behave yourself already!”

It’s quickly over. He’s bound, captured - giving one, final hiss in defiance as Seiji, snarling back through pained, heaving breaths, holds his constricted body up in his mangled arms.

“...God, I should just throw you into the damn river.”

-

With a flash of light, Akira feels the present fall back into place.

Kuro is still glaring with no small amount of indignation, so he sets it down on the ground before starting to free the cat from the confines of its Burberry prison. One of its legs is looking kind of chewed up, like another animal has sunk its teeth into it, but Kuro doesn’t seem all that bothered - or rather, it’s trying hard to look that way. With familiar bravado in the face of a gentle maiming, it shakes it off - strutting away a little stiffly before slipping beneath the bed where Seiji lays fast asleep.

Akira pulls out his phone in order to send a couple of quick messages letting the girls know that the cat has been safely found, before adding Seiji’s sullied jacket to his pile of laundry;

After all that, making sure it gets properly cleaned is probably the least that he can do.

---

It’s gone midnight by the time Seiji stirs. He’s trying to pretend like his arms don’t look like they’ve been put through a shredder, acting more affronted over his dirtied clothes and the apparent loss of his umbrella when it rolled into the river.

“Does it hurt?” Akira asks the obvious question, sitting down beside him. On closer inspection, it’s not just his arms; His face has taken some damage as well, a few sore spots already starting to darken with swollen, mauve coloured bruises.

“What, this?” Seiji flashes him a grin and stretches, “It’s nothing. Practically child's play.”

Maybe the stretch was a step too far, as it clearly wasn’t easy on him - he shudders with a twinge of discomfort, unable to disguise the pained grunt he traps back behind his lips.

Akira just glares at him pointedly for a moment before getting up to retrieve his first aid kit.

“Want me to help you fix up those cuts?”

Seiji looks away with an uneasy twitch to his smile and mumbles, “...I suppose. If you’re offering.”

It’s not all that often that Akira gets to play medic for someone else, but that doesn’t mean he’s bad at it. He knows full well that he can’t just use the 'rough and ready' approach like he would if it were just himself; Dealing with a few of Ami’s scrapes and grazes has taught him that well enough.

Seiji just sits there quietly like a model patient, smiling secretively as Akira puts that experience to practice. 

It must have been a couple of minutes before Akira notices that he’s started chuckling quietly to himself, and frowns.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sometimes I forget how gentle you can be. You know, seeing as you’re normally such a barbarian.”

“Do you want it rougher? ‘Cause I can make it rougher.”

“Oh, I’ll bet-” 

Seiji suddenly winces, stifling a hiss of pain, and Akira reflexively has his hand pulled back.

“Shit, sorry-”

Shaking his head, Seiji swallows and forces a smirk, “It’s fine. Like I said, child's play.”

Cautiously, Akira reaches out to continue. Some of the nastier looking marks are looking a little better now that they’ve been cleaned, but Seiji’s previous devil-may-care attitude appears to have been exchanged for a bout of distant rumination.

“...How’s the furball looking?” he asks eventually, quiet enough that it might as well have been said under his breath.

“What, you worried about him?” Akira responds with muted surprise.

“Hardly,” Seiji huffs, “But I’d prefer if he didn’t croak it after everything that I went through.”

“He’s fine. He’s napping on the blankets under the bed,” Akira gently tilts Seiji’s face towards him so he can take a look at an abrasion on his forehead, “His leg is looking kind of torn up, but it’s not bleeding anymore. I managed to get some antiseptic on it, so I’m gonna try and get him to a vet tomorrow so they can take a proper look.”

“That’s good... I guess,” Seiji mumbles; He hesitates when their eyes meet, seemingly losing his trail of thought before he clears his throat awkwardly and continues, “I’ll come with you. They’ll need an address to register him to, so we can use mine. We don’t want your little secret being exposed because of something so stupid as a piece of administrative paperwork.”

“Man, I didn’t even think of that...”

“Of course you didn’t,” Seiji snorts, “The mental ‘heavy lifting’ is my job, after all.”

Akira returns the snort, but doesn’t bother to argue; It’s not like he’s wrong, really.

A few more dabs of antiseptic and the odd strip of medical tape later, and the makeshift treatment complete.

“Ok, you should be good,” Akira says as he repacks the first aid kit and sets it aside.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Seiji smiles, pushing back his hair, “So? How do I look?”

He might be joking around, but honestly, Akira thinks he looks amazing - even with all those cuts and bruises, or maybe all the more so because of them. Practicality has always been one of his more attractive qualities, and those injuries are certainly a testament to that.

He smiles back, lightly brushing a thumb across the other’s split lip before leaning in a little closer.

“...Like shit.”

“Well 'fuck you' too, buddy.”

---

It’s no surprise that all three of them are pretty wiped out after the exhausting events of that evening.

Not that Akira can claim to have suffered anywhere near the same level of physical exertion; Perhaps that's why he still finds himself wide awake, staring up through the gloom at the dull expanse of his apartment ceiling.

He’s laid on his back; Seiji cosied up on one side, and Kuro on the other. 

Both pressed against him.

Both fast asleep. 

Both far too similar in all of the strangest ways.

Maybe the blame can be laid at the feet of his apparent insomnia, but Akira can't help but fixate on that notion as he ponders just how alike they are.

They both disappear for long stretches of time on their own, mysterious business, returning when they want love and affection, or just a quiet spot to rest. Sometimes clingy, sometimes distant. A soft and cuddly exterior belying sharp claws, ice cold cunning, and an unexpectedly ruthless streak. 

Both prone to excessive cruelty one moment, then charming, sweet-natured playfulness the next-

They're also both fully capable of outright stupidity, despite their stubborn attempts to pretend otherwise.

Akira glances down at where Seiji is resting peacefully - he’s not snoring, but there’s a tiny, whispery whistle each time the air moves in and out through his rosy, scraped up nose.

Considering something for a moment, he slides the hand that he has curled around the other’s shoulder up into his hair. It’s soft and warm, lacking its usual, tackier texture thanks to his earlier shower before bed, and he watches his face as he starts to run and soothe his fingers through it, petting him gently just like he would the cat.

There’s a second of silence, then Seiji is nuzzling closer, smiling faintly with a soft, contented sound.

It rouses a heavy bloom of warmth deep inside of Akira’s chest, and he’s powerless not to nuzzle back and press a kiss to the crown of his head.

With his boyfriend on one side, and his cat on the other, he can’t help but think that, cramped though it may be, this might be the comfiest that he’s ever been.

…Though he does seriously hope that Seiji isn't going to start leaving him dead bodies as gifts; The weird-ass drinks that he receives on a regular basis are bad enough already.

---

The next day, they prepare for an impromptu trip to the veterinarian. Kuro’s leg might be looking a little less worse for wear, but Akira is still eager to have it looked over by a professional, just in case.

He sets down the cat carrier that he’s bought especially for the occasion, watching Seiji lazily stroke the cat where they're reclining in the warm patch of sunlight streaming into his apartment.

It's nice finally being able to see them so at ease around each other; Akira had half-expected that their battle beneath the bridge last night would have only made matters worse, but maybe it's one of those 'fire forged friendship' situations. The fact that Kuro was brought home in (mostly) one piece likely helped matters, perhaps persuading the animal that its rough treatment at Seiji's hands had been done with (mostly) good intentions.

Whatever the reason, it appears that any amends have now been made, and their previous animosities are happily a thing of the past. 

“He’s gotten awfully fat lately," Seiji hums, "Are you sure you’re not overfeeding him?”

“Maybe he’s sneaking food elsewhere?” Akira suggests, eyeing Kuro's rounded body as Seiji's hand carefully brushes over it.

“Come to think of it,” Seiji hesitates, his hand stilling, “...How do you know it's a ‘he’?”

Akira opens his mouth, pauses, then frowns.

“I mean, I just assumed…”

There’s a shared look of hushed suspicion before Akira slowly, and very carefully, lifts Kuro up.

---

Following the findings of those preliminary (and entirely unqualified) examinations, the vet is quickly able to confirm that Kuro is, in fact, a she.

...And not only a she, but a mother to be, and four weeks later, Akira now finds himself in the possession of one cat and five healthy kittens.

With the new arrivals, it's agreed that it would be in everyone's best interests for Ms. Kuro to get 'fixed' in order to avoid any further additions, and Seiji, with all of his connections, does a surprisingly good job of finding potential homes for the members of her adorably fluffy brood.

“I’ve never seen so many thugs get that excited over a bunch of cute critters before,” he sighs, crossing his arms.

“Just as long as they can be trusted to take care of them.”

“Oh, they can. You might not know it to look at them, but they’ll absolutely spoil these little guys rotten,” Seiji looks him over for a moment before raising his eyebrows with a chuckle, “Having fun there, buddy?”

“...Yeah.”

Akira is sprawled out, spread-eagled on the floor as the kittens climb and clamber all over him with wobbly little bodies.

“Like a proud father,” Seiji sits down next to him, “I’ll admit, they are cute. In fact, they’re so cute, it’s kind of pissing me off.”

“Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” he huffs, delicately holding one of the kittens up against his chest, “Though honestly, I’m surprised that their mother isn’t being more protective.”

“Guess she trusts me,” Akira muses, “And you.”

“I’m honoured, truly,” Seiji scoffs, looking over at where Kuro is taking a well earnt rest over on Akira’s bed, “So. Have you had a chance to come up with any names?”

“I was thinking of calling this one Seijiro,” Akira lifts up a calico kitten with its tricolour coat, “He gets pissed off when I pay attention to the others instead of him.”

“Cute,” Seiji smiles back with no small amount of sarcasm, “Then I suppose the scruffy black one that keeps brutalising the others will be Akira Junior?”

“He’s just playing,” Akira grumbles, letting Seijiro affectionately chew on one of his fingers. 

It’s then that he hears a tiny, reedy mewl come from beside him, followed by the peculiar sound of Seiji stifling a squeak.

Turning his head, he finds him staring down at the kitten that he’s holding with a lip trembling look of wide eyed rapture - almost like he’s trying to keep himself from having some kind of outburst.

“...Ugh,” Seiji screws his eyes shut as he presses the kitten up over his face. 

Akira smirks, “Never pinned you for being a cat person.”

“Shut up,” Seiji mumbles feebly, “It’s the brain parasites. They must’ve got me too.”

“Sure,” Akira snorts softly and closes his eyes, “Let's go with that.”