Archive of Our Own ^omega

Sometimes, Kumi wondered where Cousin Chrono went.

Not in the physical sense, of course. After all, she had been living with Cousin Chrono - or Chrono, as she now called him - for the past 8 years. 

But Kumi could remember a time when Chrono had been different.

(Had been whole.)

The Chrono that had been quietly led into their home that night, barely visible behind the unfamiliar adults whispering to her parents in urgent tones, was nothing like the cousin that she remembered seeing mere weeks before.

Cousin Chrono had been vibrant, his bright green eyes always alight with a mixture of infectious joy and childlike wonder, gleaming with a sparkle of mischief. 

Kumi could still remember those carefree days, when Cousin Chrono would visit for the weekend and the two of them would spend hours together playing pirates in the local park before heading home to build blanket forts in her room.

“C’mon, Kumi-chan! Over there, we have to defeat that sea monster!”

But Cousin Chrono was gone.

In his place was Chrono - an empty husk of the sunny child he once was.

Kumi didn’t know what had happened. Not the details, anyway. All she knew was that a few days after Chrono arrived, a photo of Uncle Rive had appeared next to the photo of Aunt Tokimi on their little shrine.

(Uncle Rive’s eyes… Chrono’s had looked like that once - )

(So full of life.)

Her parents didn’t tell her much - after all, explaining death to a child was never pleasant - but they did tell her to be patient with Chrono.

“Chrono-kun has been through a lot,” her dad had said, “and what we can do for him now is to be there for him and give him all the time he needs.”

“All the time he needs for what?” Kumi had asked.

“All the time he needs to find what he’s looking for.”

(Kumi still didn’t quite understand what that meant.)

But, she waited.

And slowly, things changed. Yet, they also remained the same.

Chrono was still fundamentally Chrono.

The boy who once spent an entire dinner sneaking candy into Kumi’s lap under the table now fed alleycats out from his own ham sandwiches. His care in bandaging Kumi’s skinned knees and wiping away her tears had now evolved into tirelessly cooking dinner alongside her every night.

But Cousin Chrono did not return. 

This Chrono rarely smiled, never laughed, and didn’t ever seem to care about anything other than bothering the people around him as little as possible.

His dull green eyes held nothing.

(Sometimes, Kumi wondered if beside the photos of Aunt Tokimi and Uncle Rive on the shrine, there sat another - )

(The spirit of Cousin Chrono.)

They were in middle school now.

In their second year, they ended up in the same class for the first time since early elementary school.

(Chrono had given Kumi one of his small, rare smiles when she’d excitedly pointed out their names on the class rosters.)

While Kumi knew that Chrono was in no way as violent or scary as the rumours suggested, a few weeks into the school year, she could almost see where they were coming from.

The Chrono at home was lifeless, but the Chrono at school was lifeless and cold.

“Honestly, I still can’t believe that you and Shindou are related,” Tokoha had remarked one day.

Kumi supposed that that made sense, considering the Chrono that everyone else but she knew.

(After all, they had never met Cousin Chrono, whose incandescent smile in their childhood photo albums was a splitting image of Kumi’s own.)

Beyond now sharing the same class timetable, Kumi and Chrono generally stuck to the same routine that they had established at the start of middle school.

After school, the two of them would either walk home together or Kumi would stay behind for a bit to spend some time with her friends. Then, at 5:00 PM sharp, they would start dinner preparations.

With a childhood of experience in helping Kumi’s mom get dinner on the table following late night shifts, their teamwork in the kitchen was fluid and well-practiced. Over the years, the two of them had tested and polished over 100 recipes together.

Kumi would take care of the peeling and slicing, while Chrono was better at chopping and dicing. Chrono knew the exact temperature and timing down to the second to fry anything to a commercial-worthy golden brown, and Kumi could always boil noodles to the perfect texture, no matter the size or thickness.

(Making dinner was Kumi’s favourite part of the day, because sometimes, when she looked over to Chrono at the stovetop beside her, she could almost see a hint of contentment on his face.)

After dinner, they would do their homework - sometimes together, since neither of them were particularly great students - before finishing off any remaining chores and heading to bed.

It was a simple life. A bit monotonous, but Kumi supposed that all routines were.

That is, until the day that Kumi got home before Chrono.

Frowning, Kumi checked her phone.

4:34 PM, and no new texts. School had ended more than an hour ago, and she’d seen Chrono head out right after the bell as usual, so he should have been home for at least 20 minutes by now.

Hmm… well, sometimes Chrono stopped by the grocery store on the way home, although they’d usually go together or he’d text her first. Maybe he forgot this time?

It wouldn’t be very like Chrono, but then again, Kumi had forgotten more than once to text Chrono when she was late. Plus, it wasn’t even 5:00 PM yet, so maybe he didn’t expect her to be home yet.

Humming, Kumi put away her school things, changed out of her uniform, and started laying out ingredients for tonight’s dinner. They had decided on yakisoba, right? 

Half an hour later, with still no sign of Chrono, Kumi was starting to worry.

The message that she had sent a few minutes before 5:00 PM was still marked as unread.

Did Chrono’s phone die? Though, if it had, he could have come back to the classroom to find her the moment he noticed. Even if she had already left, he should have gotten back before 5:00 PM no matter where he had gone. Which means… did something happen on his way home? 

Pacing back and forth down the kitchen, Kumi grabbed her phone from the counter.

They didn’t usually call to avoid racking up the phone bills, but at 5:10 PM… this qualified as enough of an emergency.

Taking a deep breath, Kumi shakily clicked on Chrono’s contact.

Just as she was about to press “Call”, Kumi suddenly heard the telltale jiggling of their front lock.

A few moments later, the door slammed open, and in rushed Chrono.

His hair was even wilder than usual, and he was huffing and puffing as if he had just run a half marathon at world record pace.

“Kumi - hi - sorry,” he huffed out, still bent over and catching his breath, “totally - lost track - of time.”

“Oh, no worries!” Kumi reassured, a warm wave of relief washing over her, “I’m just glad that you’re okay!”

“Sorry - will text - next time.”

“For sure, don’t worry about it! Where were you, anyway?”

Finally recovering, Chrono straightened.

“Well, I found this deck of cards and a map in my shoe locker this morning, so I went to check out where the map led to after school. It was this store called Card Capital 2, and everyone there plays this game called Vanguard! One guy there taught me how to play, and it’s super cool since everything is based on imagination, and… Kumi? Kumi…? Are you okay?”

In retrospect, Kumi couldn’t remember the last time Chrono had willingly spoken this many words in one go. Nor could she remember the last time she had heard genuine excitement in his voice.

But, in that moment, she didn’t notice any of that.

Because as Chrono looked at her, face alight with a nostalgic radiance that was now marred with a hint of worry, Kumi could see a whisper of it.

A muted, but steady glow, lit deep within those bright green eyes.

A familiar glow, one etched into Kumi’s earliest memories.

One that had cheered her on as she nervously stepped onto the next rung of their neighbourhood jungle gym, one that beckoned her to follow along through the grassy trails for a new adventure, one that accompanied bright laughter as they took stock of their loot of cookies and juice boxes from their latest pantry raid.

One that she had wondered if she would ever see again.

(Maybe she should have started chopping the onions before Chrono arrived. At least then, she could have explained the tears that were streaking down her face.)

Vanguard.

As Anjou Tokoha’s best friend, Kumi had obviously heard of the game before.

But Tokoha had never mentioned how irrevocably life-changing it could be.

Before, if Chrono didn’t go to his Aunt Mikuru’s apartment on weekends, then he would usually just stay in his room except for chores or a grocery run. 

But for the past few weekends, Kumi had barely caught sight of Chrono in the mornings before he left for the card shop that he now frequented, and he only came home right before they were scheduled to help with dinner.

Kumi getting home before Chrono on weekdays had started becoming a regular occurrence rather than a rare occasion. 

Her parents had also started to notice the change, trading smiles across the dinner table as Chrono’s face lit up when he was asked about his day.

Truly, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Tokoha hadn’t asked why Kumi suddenly decided to take her up on her offer and learn to play Vanguard, but the answer would have been obvious if she had.

Kumi, too, wanted to grasp the torch that had re-ignited Chrono’s world.

And if she could, she wanted to experience that world with him, side by side, braving the winds together.

(Just as they always had.)

She was still learning the rules, but Kumi could see why Vanguard had drawn Chrono in so much! The idea of Cray was captivating, filled with so many different Nations and Clans with unique powers. Stride symbolizing the Unit taking hold of their limitless possibilities was also  - 

“Kumi? Oi, Kumi!”

Kumi was startled out of her thoughts by Chrono’s voice behind her.

She spun around to see Chrono holding out a melon bun to her.

“This is yours, isn’t it?”

Kumi patted the pocket that she thought she had slipped her lunch into. Sure enough, it was empty.

“It is! Thank you so much, Chrono.”

Chrono sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it, just be careful next time. That’s your favourite, isn’t it?”

“Yep, I will! Thanks again!”

With that, Chrono walked away.

“Huh,” Tokoha commented from beside her, “I have to say, it’s kind of weird to see you guys act like normal siblings.”

“Is it?” Kumi asked, absentmindedly fiddling with her newly returned melon bun, “that’s how he’s like at home, most of the time. Honestly, Chrono isn’t actually scary or even cold, he’s just misunderstood.”

They both watched as Chrono suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway, jolted, and put his hand on his cheek.

Kumi frowned.

What was -

Oh. Oh. Wait.

Was that why he had been avoiding her gaze this morning? And why he had left for school so much earlier than she had?

Oh wow, Kumi couldn’t believe that even at this point, Chrono would still try to avoid her whenever that happened. Hadn’t he learned his lesson from last time? Seriously, she’d thought that the borderline kidnapping incident would have been enough. 

Anyway, at least this gave her something interesting to do this week.

Hmmm… well then, what should she do this time?

“Kumi?” Tokoha questioned, “are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah! Oh huh… actually - ”

Kumi tapped her chin, before turning to her friend.

“Tokoha-chan, you mentioned that there was something called a Quest, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

Kumi smiled at her friend sweetly.

She wore the same smile as she approached Chrono at the Quest Board in Card Capital 2 the next day.

“Thank you for accepting my Quest, Chrono!” she cheerily called out.

Chrono whirled around, eyes widening.

“Wha - Kumi?! What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, of course! Playing Vanguard.”

“Since when have you been a Fighter?”

“Since like… about a week ago now, I guess? Like I said in the Quest, I’m still just a beginner.”

“Then why did you put in that Quest anyway? You could have just asked me to play you or something.”

“Well, Tokoha-chan has been teaching me the basics, but I wanted to see how I would do in a real Fight! What a happy coincidence that I’ll be Fighting you, Chrono.”

Kumi beamed at a confused Chrono before humming excitedly.

“Oh, I know! Why don’t we make this Fight a little more interesting.”

Chrono narrowed his eyes.

“...interesting how?”

Kumi’s smile widened.

“How’s about this: if you win, I’ll clean the bathrooms for a week. But if I win, then we’re going to the dentists’ office after this.”

Chrono stared blankly at her for a moment, before letting out a groan and then grabbing the side of his face with a yelp.

“You - ugh, of course.”

Kumi leaned forward, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Now then, Chrono. You wouldn’t back out of a Quest, would you?”

(In the end, did Kumi have to clean the bathrooms for the week? Yes. But did Chrono go to the dentists’ office? Also yes.)

(Kumi would consider that a win.)

Kumi woke up with a start.

Frowning, she pushed herself up from the hard, leathery surface that she had apparently fallen asleep on and looked around.

In the darkness, she could barely make out the sleeping figures of her friends, laid out around the floor and various benches of Card Capital 2.

Right… they were having a dinner party that had somehow turned into a slumber party. And then they said that they were going to Fight until dawn, but she supposed that that didn’t work out.

Sitting up, she nearly let out a gasp as she barely avoided kicking Chrono, who was lying at her feet. 

Laying a hand over her calming heart, she looked down at Chrono curiously. 

When had she last seen Chrono sleeping like this, sprawled out on the floor beside her?

This was probably the first time since their childhood blanket forts.

Kumi smiled to herself.

First times, huh?

Chrono had sure had a lot of those lately.

First time going to an event, first time participating in a tournament, first time bringing a friend over - 

(Which, that had been a time because Kumi was almost certain that her parents only allowed it without question because of the shock of Chrono asking if a friend could stay over. But then Jaime and her dad had gotten on so famously that Kumi would not be surprised if he had allocated half of his retirement savings for a Spain trip at this point. That is, if Jaime would stop throwing cheesy pick-up lines at his wife and daughter.)

- first time having a party with friends.

How many more first times would Vanguard bring him?

Kumi didn’t know, but more than anything, she hoped that she would be there by his side to find out.

But in the meantime - 

Kumi peered down at the permanent marker beside Chrono’s hand.

She could guess why the marker was there, not to mention the telltale smell of ink that was gradually invading her senses. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she looked around to confirm.

Ah, of course.

Picking up the marker, she grinned.

Well then, she’d better make sure that Chrono had an authentic first slumber party experience, right?

16:32

Tokoha
Kumi-chan, is Shindou home yet?

Kumi
no, why?
wasn’t he supposed to be at a tournament with you guys until 17:00?

Tokoha
Yes, but
Something happened.

17:48

Tokoha
Kiba and I tried our best
Tell him that we’re sorry

When Kumi was younger, she thought of everything as either good or bad.

Chocolate cake was good, doctor appointments were bad, and so on.

As time went on, she began to see the grays between her black and white pillars. 

But what she hadn’t realized, not until that night, was how fragile goodness could be.

Because everything in this world had a cost. Anything that had the capacity to bring joy would also have equal capacity to bring suffering.

Because anything that lit up your world would only leave a lonelier darkness in its wake.

And perhaps it was because she feared those plunging depths, that familiar powerlessness numbing her chest, that - with a plate of apple slices in her hand and her deck tucked out of sight under her bed - she lowered her hand from his door.

(Maybe she also hadn’t realized how fragile darkness could be.)

“Kumi, sorry, did you have a minute?”

“Yeah, what do -” Kumi trailed off as she looked up from her phone.

Chrono’s bangs were stuck to his forehead and his clothes were a dusty, sweaty mess. On the ground beside him the largest knapsack that they owned. 

Kumi honestly had no idea why their parents had even bought that thing. It could probably comfortably fit Chrono, herself, and at least two days worth of food supplies. (Not that they had ever tested that theory. Not after they were lectured about the dangers of suffocating in a knapsack when their parents found them in there with a box of granola bars back when they were three-years-old.)

But anyway. What was more important was that the knapsack was somehow half-full.

“...so, Chrono. Is there an apocalypse that we should be worried about?”

Chrono blinked.

“What? No, this is for a beach trip.”

Kumi tilted her head in confusion. Their family did sometimes go on a beach trip, but that was usually closer to the end of the summer.

“A beach trip? By yourself?”

Chrono looked away from her, fidgeting with the seam of his vest.

“No,” he said, after a beat, “it’s… I’m inviting Kiba and Anjou. I -”

He hesitated for a second, toeing his bag.

“I… know they’re hurting because of what happened at the national qualifiers. I’m no good at cheering people up, but I want to try to help them. Since they helped me last time.”

Kumi’s gaze softened. 

She had always known that Chrono was kind. But how long has it been since she’s seen him put conscious effort into that kindness, to reach out to a friend in need simply because he had the power to?

(Or, more accurately: how long has it been since that helping hand had an awaiting hand to grasp?)

Grinning, Kumi got up from the sofa, walked up to Chrono, and began shoving him down the hallway.

“Come on, Chrono! I think most of the beach stuff is in the back corner of the storage room.”

“Wha - Kumi! You could have just told me, you don’t need to push me there.”

“But I want to help too!”

Even from behind him, Kumi could feel Chrono’s uncertainty.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to go out of your way to help me.”

Kumi slowed down for a moment.

“I care about them too, Chrono. Tokoha-chan is my best friend, and Kiba-kun has always been nice to me. Seeing them like that… even if there’s not much I can do, I want to make sure that they’re okay too.”

Poking her head around his shoulders, she grinned up at him.

“Besides, who else is going to know what Tokoha-chan’s favourite beach activities are? Like, for example, did you know that she really likes fishing?”

“Fishing? Anjou…? Don’t you need a lot of patience for that?”

“Right?”

“Uh, Chrono? There’s a leaf stuck in your hair.”

Chrono set down his knife beside the half-chopped chives with a long groan.

“Seriously, still? I can’t believe that Shion and Tokoha would - oh wait, who am I kidding, I can totally believe that they would.”

Sighing, he turned over to Kumi.

“Kumi, sorry, would you mind - ”

“Of course.”

Kumi reached up and pulled out the stray leaf neatly tucked in the middle of Chrono’s spiky red locks.

“So, does this have anything to do with why you came home at midnight last night?” she asked in a casual tone, twirling the leaf between her fingers.

“Uhhhhhhhh,” Chrono started, eyes widening, “...yes, but that’s a long story. To which the moral is to never trespass. It’s very, very stressful.”

“...okay?”

“...anyway, have you ever heard of Yatomi Saya? Tokoha gave us tickets to her concert today.”

“...what?”

Chrono looked up from his deck as Kumi set down a plate of milk and cookies.

“Thanks Kumi, you didn’t have to,” he said, smiling.

She threw back a smile before sliding into the vacant seat across from him.

“I would have brought coffee, but I didn’t want to encourage you to stay up all night,” she explained, “not that you probably won’t do that anyway.”

Chrono snorted.

“Even if we did, I doubt Jaime would need any more energy. Can you imagine him with caffeine?”

“We’d probably get noise complaints from the entire neighbourhood.”

“We already might, what with that dinner.”

“Why do you think I waited until Jaime was in the shower to come down?”

“What, didn’t feel like getting serenaded again?”

“I think I’ve heard enough flower metaphors tonight to last a lifetime.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Kumi absentmindedly swung her feet under the table as Chrono continued to sort his cards.

“I just… I just want to do this right this time, you know?”

Kumi stilled. Across from her, Chrono had set down his cards.

“I want to show Taiyou how fun Vanguard is. It’s not just about strength and winning - Vanguard empowers us to understand each other. No matter how different we are, or how alone we feel, our Vanguard can connect us.”

He took a deep breath, picking up Chronojet Dragon from the centre of the table.

“I want to show him properly, just how fun Vanguard can be.”

The “unlike last time” lingered between them, unspoken. 

Kumi thought back to their amusement park trip last weekend - to her friends’ excited laughter as they wandered from one attraction to the next, to Taiyou’s bright smile as he pointed at the city’s landmarks from their ferris wheel booth, to the resigned curve of Chrono’s back as they all watched Taiyou walked away.

Reaching across the table, she clasped Chrono’s free hand in her own.

“I believe that you can do it,” she declared firmly, “because you understand the loneliness Taiyou-kun feels and why he wants to be strong. Your Vanguard can reach him.”

Meeting Chrono’s hesitant gaze with unwavering certainty, Kumi smiled.

“After all, didn’t Vanguard teach you how to smile, too?”

Chrono’s eyes widened, before narrowing with newly lit determination.

“I’ll show him tomorrow,” he vowed, clenching his fist in her hands as he fixed an intense look at a point seemingly just beyond Kumi’s gaze, “my Vanguard.”

(And as Chronodragon Nextage descended upon the field, cloaked in an iridescent glow, Kumi could almost swear that she caught sight of a familiar gleam in Chrono’s silhouette, blurring in the distance.)

Chrono’s jaw dropped as four cards landed in his Damage Zone, bringing his total up to six damage.

“Wha… how even…?”

“Yay, I won!” Kumi cheered, high-fiving Tokoha, “I beat Chrono!”

Leaning against the wall behind Chrono, Shion sighed. 

“There’s nothing I could have done!” Chrono complained, turning and scowling at the blond, “she totally got lucky pulling that triple critical!”

Sighing again, Shion straightened and walked over to the table.

“So,” he said, stopping beside Tokoha, “it’s genetic, huh?”

Tokoha nodded without a hint of hesitation.

“Definitely.”

Kumi frowned as she noticed the yellow glow of the dining room light on the hallway wall.

Peeking in, she noticed Chrono hunched over a large pile of notebooks.

“Chrono?” she called out, “what are you doing up so late?”

Chrono startled, almost knocking over the stack by his elbow.

“Kumi? What are you still doing up?”

“I was getting a glass of milk before bed. Today’s Math homework took me way longer than I expected.”

“Same, I had to call Tokoha about the last question.”

Kumi giggled, opening a cabinet to grab a glass.

“Me too.”

Pouring her milk and settling down across from Chrono, she glanced at the cover of a stray notebook.

Recipe Book #7

Furrowing her brows, she tugged the notebook closer.

“Chrono, are these our old recipe books?”

Chrono startled again, as if surprised that she was still here.

“Yeah, they are.”

“Why are you looking at them? Don’t you know most of these recipes by heart?”

They had been testing these recipes since they were eight-years-old, after all. From the early pages covered clumsily in markered scrawl with her mom’s neat script filling in the gaps, to their latest entries detailed in a shorthand that they had developed over the years, these recipe books represented a cherished, lifelong path that they had walked together.

Kumi’s fingers curled around her cup, ever so slightly tighter.

Not that they had much time to test many recipes together recently, especially since the start of the G Quests.

Chrono let out a sigh and closed the notebook that he had been flipping through.

“Yeah, I do, but I was just looking through them for some inspiration.”

Kumi tilted her head curiously.

“Inspiration?”

Chrono leaned back, resting his hands in his messy red locks.

“I’ve been trying to figure out some recipes to teach to Shion. Something simple, with ingredients that are easy to find.”

Kumi winced in sympathy. She didn’t think she had seen the blond eat anything other store-bought sandwiches and canned coffee ever since the incident.

“That should be easy enough to find, shouldn’t it?” she said, reaching for another notebook in the pile, “don’t we have like, 6 recipes for fried rice?”

“Yeah, but I can’t think of any way to change them.”

“Why do you need to change them..? Is Kiba-kun allergic to something? Why don’t you just give him a recipe we already have?”

Kumi looked up when, after a few seconds, Chrono still hadn’t responded.

He was looking at her with a mixture of shock and confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, equally confused.

“You put so much work into these,” Chrono stated, incredulity still evident in his voice, “and you would just let me give them away?”

Kumi frowned.

“We put a lot of work into these, together,” she corrected, “and I’d rather you not give away the notebooks themselves, but you can obviously share the recipes.”

Chrono continued staring at her.

“But don’t these recipes mean a lot to you?” he pressed.

Kumi stilled.

Once upon a time, these recipes had been Kumi’s anchor - something that she had desperately clung onto whenever she couldn’t stand to think about the void etched into her childhood joy.

They were a comforting reminder that no matter how dark the world seemed, if she reached out hard and far enough, maybe she could still grasp Chrono’s hand - no matter how slack his grip may be.

But now, looking at Chrono, his bright green eyes almost glowing under the dim ceiling lights, maybe… maybe she didn’t need to hold on anymore. 

Or rather, maybe she shouldn’t need to anymore.

After all, under this warm glow, she no longer had a reason to blindly latch on to him, awaiting a miracle.

Chrono deserved to sail forth, untethered, towards the future he desired.

Maybe, at this point, this was the least that she could do for him.

(Maybe she owed him at least this much.)

Slowly setting down her notebook, she picked at a corner of the page

“They do,” she admitted, softly, “but I don’t mind if you’re going to use them to help Kiba-kun. I know how important he is to you, and he’s my friend too.”

She then turned to him with a warm smile.

“Besides, food is for sharing with the people that you care about.”

Chrono blinked, before giving Kumi a mirroring smile, seeped with gratitude.

“Thank you, Kumi.”

(As they gathered up the notebooks and shuffled back upstairs to their rooms, trading a mumbled “good night” in the hallway, Kumi couldn’t help but think that Chrono’s retreating back felt ever so slightly farther than it used to as he slipped through his bedroom door.)

With a wide grin on his face, Chrono presented Kumi with a slice of homemade strawberry shortcake after dinner.

“Happy Birthday, Kumi!” he congratulated, placing the cake down before her, “I was originally going to make a matcha crepe cake, but Tokoha told me about how much you loved this shortcake at a cafe you guys went to, so I tried to make that for you instead.”

Kumi marvelled at the neatly lined strawberries and perfectly coiffed white swirls. Even the cut itself was neat and precise, not a crumb out of place.

How Chrono got so good at making desserts when he only really baked once a year on her birthday remained a mystery.

“Thank you so much, Chrono! It looks amazing!”

His grin grew wider as he took a seat across the table. 

“Tokoha showed me pictures and taste-tested all the cakes, so if it tastes off, it’s her fault,” he added, sliding Kumi a fork.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, Kumi took a bite.

And oh, it was heavenly. 

The light, airy cake delicately balanced with the enveloping cream perfectly highlighted the sweetness of the strawberries. Everything from the cream-to-berry ratio to the texture of each individual crumb was so glorious that Kumi fought back the urge to cry actual tears of gratitude for whatever good fortune granted her the opportunity to be Shindou Chrono’s cousin.

“You should quit Vanguard and open a bakery,” she pronounced, before immediately going in for another bite.

Chrono rolled his eyes good-humouredly.

“You say that every year. And those aren’t even good strawberries.”

“Your cake is so much better than the one from the cafe.”

“Thanks, I went through 23 prototypes.”

“...how did Tokoha-chan survive?”

“...I think the Dragon Empire staff may or may not have had a strawberry shortcake party.”

“Ah.”

Chrono distractedly picked at the table as Kumi took a few more (wondrous) bites of cake.

“I know this year has been kind of weird,” he started, after a pause, “and that a lot has changed, especially lately.”

Kumi slowly stuffed another forkful of cake into her mouth.

“But I just wanted to say thank you for all of your help. You didn’t have to, but you’ve still supported me for all this time, through the United Sanctuary Branch stuff and the G Quests and all. I couldn’t have come far without you. I’m really grateful to have you always by my side.”

Open earnestness radiated from Chrono’s features.

Kumi carefully chewed a few more times before swallowing, curving her lips up into a cheery smile.

“Of course, you can count on me!”

(She wondered why the cake suddenly felt like quicksand in her throat.)

A few days after the Ultimate Stage, Kumi grabbed Chrono’s sleeve and excitedly pointed out their names on the class roster.

“Look Chrono, we’re in the same class again! Tokoha-chan and Kiba-kun are with us, too.”

Chrono looked over to her with his usual, easy smile.

“Yeah, looks like we’re all together for our third year.”

(Later, as she saw Chrono, Tokoha, and Shion peel off from the crowd and head for the corner of the classroom, with shoulders hunched and faces set in serious expressions, she couldn’t help but notice how jarringly natural it felt - )

(This gaping distance between them.)

The sight of her parents whispering in urgent tones to their late night visitor felt almost familiar.

(Almost.)

As she edged further down the stairs, rubbing her eyes under the lights, she recognized Mikuru’s distinctive orange hair peeking out from behind her parents’ shoulders.

“Good evening otou-san, okaa-san, Mikuru-san. What’s going on?”

Her mom opened her mouth to respond, a series of unreadable emotions passing over her face before she closed it again, seemingly unsure of how to begin.

Wordlessly, Mikuru pushed past her parents, slowly approaching Kumi.

Her streaked mascara glistened under the hallway lights.

(Mikuru would never let her makeup be anything less than perfect.)

“Kumi-chan,” she began, softly, “have you been in contact with Chrono in the last few hours?”

Slowly, Kumi shook her head, watching as Mikuru’s eyes shuttered closed. The young woman took a grounding breath, before opening her eyes again, bright blue irises set in an eerie calm.

“Kumi-chan.”

Reaching over, she lay a gentle hand on Kumi’s shoulder. 

Her hand was trembling.

(Mikuru’s hand never trembled.)

“Chrono is missing.”

The next 24 hour hours were a mess, and the 24 after that even more so.

Kumi’s parents forced her to go to school, where she was immediately confronted by Tokoha and Shion. Together, they had thousands of questions, and no answers.

As the day went on, she took no notes, failed to notice a teacher calling her name six separate times, and likely bombed a math quiz.

Chrono’s corner desk remained empty, innocuously framed by a curtain wafting in the spring breeze.

The bell couldn’t have come sooner.

Tokoha stopped her briefly on her way out of the classroom to let her know that her brother had contacted her. Apparently, he suspected that there was a chance Chrono may encounter some dangerous people who were involved in the United Sanctuary Branch incident last weekend. Mamoru had urged them all to go home in case they were targeted as well. 

The added risk only made Kumi more desperate to comb every block in the district.

From the steely look in his eyes as he pulled a black jacket over his uniform, Kumi suspected that Shion thought the same.

(After all, if Chrono were here instead of her, this would be the least that he would do.)

Mamoru had insisted that Tokoha come straight away to the Dragon Empire Branch, so she reluctantly bid her friends farewell at the school gates. Shion had slipped into the nearest alleyway, though not before firmly instructing Kumi to call him if she found or even suspected anything.

Kumi scoured every street between their school and Mikuru’s apartment. She scoped out every park, walked into every store, and looked down every alley.

(Because if in her place, Chrono would do the same. No, more.)

(He would - no, could do so much more.)

It was not until hours past sunset, after her parents had finally dragged her home for dinner, that Kumi heard the news.

(That night, Tokoha’s sobs echoed in her dreams.)

(“He just - I - Kumi-chan, it’s all my fault. It’s all because of me, because all I could do was stand there. And now he’s… I couldn’t do anything.”)

(The sobs sounded awfully like her own.)

The next day, on Saturday, Kumi stayed home.

Tokoha made sure to elicit that promise from her before she had hung up.

In an act of solidarity, Shion stayed home, too. But Kumi knew that Shion didn’t need to be out and about to be useful.

(Unlike her. Because no matter how fast she ran or how far she reached - )

Kumi was considering whether or not she would actually wear a hole through her bedroom carpet by the end of the day when she got a text from Shion.

The three of them met 20 minutes later under the low hum of the street lamps.

Shion’s eyes were hooded beneath his unkempt bangs as he explained the situation, tone carefully clinical.

He had barely finished his last sentence when Kumi stepped forward, raised her hand, and slapped him across the face.

She tried to ignore the sick curl of satisfaction that blossomed in her chest when she saw the blond stumble backwards, a red handprint slowly emerging on his pale cheek.

“How could you?” she demanded, grabbing Shion by his collar, “how could you just let him go?”

She met his wide-eyed shock with an accusatory glare.

“Why would you just - he could have been safe! He could have been home. And now he’s… you saw what happened to the Dragon Empire Branch. If you say those people are also targeting Chrono… why would you let him go alone? Just to prove how clever you are?”

(“Just to prove that you’re good enough to stand by his side?”)

Shion, to his credit, did not look away as his expression edged into a hint of remorse.

He said nothing.

Kumi was about to start again when they were suddenly interrupted by an approaching figure clad in white.

She was introduced to Ibuki Kouji on a park bench, bordered by neatly trimmed shrubs with leaves that glistened under the moonlight.

Ibuki was calm and collected, listening attentively to their cobbled together story. He took the tracker from Shion and studied the glowing red signal.

“He seems to still be moving. It’s too late to assemble a suitable task force tonight, so we can keep an eye on his movement for now and leave first thing tomorrow morning, assuming his location has stabilized by then.”

Ibuki nodded to Shion, and then Tokoha in turn.

“I’ll be in contact with the details.”

Ibuki then turned to leave.

Frantic, Kumi grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait! I need to go, too.”

Everyone stilled.

Slowly, Tokoha placed her hand on top of Kumi’s. Her eyes were filled with a pained sorrow.

“Kumi-chan, I completely understand how you feel. I really do. But this is all very, very dangerous. Chrono would kill us if we let something happen to you.”

Balling her hands into fists, Kumi challenged her best friend’s gaze with a furious scowl.

“I can’t fail Chrono. Not this time. I’m going to be there for him.”

(Like he’s always been there for her.)

(Like she’s always failed to be for him.)

Biting her lip, Tokoha dropped her gaze to meet Shion’s. The boy grimaced resignedly before setting his jaw and facing Kumi.

Before he could get a word in, Ibuki turned back towards them.

“I am well aware that I owe you and your family a lifetime of apologies. Rest assured that I fully intend on atoning for my actions, no matter how long that may take. But for now, our priority is finding and rescuing Shindou Chrono. And for that, you’re nothing more than a liability.”

Kumi felt Tokoha’s hand tighten over hers at the harsh words. The green haired girl leaned forward, as if ready to defend her friend.

Ibuki continued, unfazed.

“Okazaki Kumi, you are one of the most important people in Shindou Chrono’s life. If you want to be there for him, then go home. Be there to welcome him when he returns, listen to him, and comfort him. Show him that he is not alone, that he has people waiting for him.”

Ibuki’s intense red gaze bore into her.

“Go home, Okazaki.”

Kumi stared down at her free hand, curled in her lap.

Because was right, wasn’t he? Deep within herself, she had known that all along.

She… couldn’t reach him.

(Had she ever been able to reach him?)

Because she didn’t have Tokoha’s grit, nor Shion’s cleverness (albeit the questionable judgment calls), nor Ibuki’s authority.

Because, as had been proven time and time again, Kumi wasn’t strong enough to reach him. She could never bear the torch to clear away his shadows.

(She didn’t even try.)

Even if she were important to Chrono, he didn’t need her. Not to stand by his side. Not ever.

And Kumi… Kumi needed to accept that. 

That it was better for Chrono to move forward without her dragging him down.

That she owed him at least this much.

Because all she ever did was stand there, stare at Chrono’s retreating back, and wait.

Because all she knew how to do - all she ever knew how to do - was wait.

(After all, through all of these years, from the moment she laid her eyes on him that night, what else had she ever done?)

Raising her face back up to meet Ibuki’s eyes, she slipped her hand out of Tokoha’s grasp,

And let him go.

(It was the most that she could do for him.)

“Kumi, can we talk?”

Kumi froze, knife and potato still in hand.

It was a couple of days after Chrono had been brought home, and they were cooking dinner together as usual.

(Kumi had tried to convince Chrono that he didn’t need to help, but he had insisted. The doctor did clear him for light to moderate activity, so Kumi hadn’t pushed.)

“Yeah?”

Behind her, Chrono took a deep breath.

“I wanted to properly apologize for last week. It was irresponsible of me to run off and cause you so much worry. I already owe you, oji-san, oba-san, and Mikuru-san so much, I shouldn’t be - ”

“What do you mean, ‘owe’?”

Chrono blinked at the interruption.

“What?”

Kumi set down the food, slowly.

“What do you mean, that you ‘owe’ me?” she repeated.

Chrono tilted his head with a look of confusion.

“Well, I essentially owe you your entire life, don’t I? Oba-san had to find a job because they can’t afford to take care of both of us with oji-san’s job alone, so you had to do chores while all your friends were out playing. We couldn’t get the cat you wanted when we were seven because we couldn’t afford it, and we’re the only people we know who still have prepaid phone plans to save money.”

His words spilled out faster and faster like a bursting dam before he stopped to catch his breath.

“And then, this year, I stole your best friend from you. Tokoha was your friend first, but on top of the G Quests, she got dragged into my problems and doesn’t have nearly as much time to spend with you anymore. Don’t deny it, Tokoha said you brought it up with her. Plus there was the Dragon Empire Branch incident last week, so being involved with me almost got her and Mamoru-san killed. And that’s not even counting Luna and Am, who wouldn’t be suffering if I wasn’t around.” 

His eyes gleamed with desperation.

“So tell me, Kumi: what don’t I owe you?”

Chrono’s heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the deafening silence.

Kumi blinked, wetly.

She hadn’t registered when the tears had started flowing down her face.

“Chrono,” she murmured, shaking, “is that really what you think? Is that really what you’ve been thinking for all these years?”

He let out a few harsh chuckles.

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? All I’ve ever been to everyone is a burden - ”

Chrono stopped abruptly as a bowl of chicken stock landed on his head.

His eyes were wide behind his dripping bangs as Kumi slowly slid her hand from the base of the bowl, letting it clatter to the ground.

The ringing of metal against tile echoed as the world seemingly stood still.

“Stop, don’t say that!”

Chrono flinched at the sheer volume of her voice, but Kumi pressed forward.

“Chrono, how could you ever think that I would - why would I ever think that you were a burden? That you owed me anything?”

“But I - ”

“All I’ve ever wanted was to stand beside you. To be there for you, like you’ve always been there for me.”

Kumi clasped both of Chrono’s hands, bringing them up between them.

“Because Chrono, we’re family, aren’t we?”

Chrono’s eyes held unfathomable anguish.

“But Kumi, all I’ve done since I’ve gotten here is cause trouble for you - ”

Kumi desperately shook her head.

“You haven’t! You’ve always been there for me, helping me out whenever I needed you.”

“But look at all the sacrifices that you’ve made for me! All the time you spent last summer helping me out with my team and then the United Sanctuary thing, wasting your entire weekend last week worrying about me, and even giving up your recipes! I know how important those recipes are to you, and yet because of me - ”

“They are only important to me because we made them together! Because testing those recipes with you was the only way that I could stand beside you.”

Dropping his hands, she met his shocked expression with a comforting gaze.

“From the day we met, you’ve always been there for me. You’ve always dropped everything to make me happy. And I - I’ve always wanted to do the same for you. For you to be able to rely on me just like how I rely on you. To stand by your side and face the world together.”

She breathed in, shakily.

“Yes, I could have had a different life, but I wouldn’t trade the years we’ve spent together for the world. You owe me nothing, and if anything, I owe you for not being able to give enough in return. I know that I’m not as strong or smart as Tokoha-chan or Kiba-kun, and that I’m selfish to want to be by your side. But even so - ”

Chrono’s eyes widened as Kumi gave him a watery smile.

“All I’ve ever wanted is to walk with you.”

The steady dripping of Chrono’s bangs into the puddle below punctuated the ensuing silence.

Chrono took an unsteady step back, eyes screwing shut as he turned away from her.

“No, Kumi, I - ”

He let out a trembling breath.

“Everything in my life changed that day,” he confessed, softly.

Clenching his fists, he turned to her again, shining eyes alight with fierce conviction.

“Everything, but you.”

Kumi’s eyes rounded.

Chrono pushed onward, refusing to break her gaze.

“Oji-san and oba-san walked on eggshells around me, Mikuru-san threw all her energy into her work, but you… you were always there for me. You stayed by my side. No matter how lost I was or how powerless I felt - even if I was at rock bottom - I knew that if I just turned, you would be right there beside me.”

Reaching between them, he grabbed Kumi’s hands.

“I owe who I am today to you. For all this time, through the thick and the thin, you’ve waited for me, persevered for me, stayed for me. Even through this year, when everything changed again, you never left my side. You stayed, even though you could have - should have - abandoned me years ago.”

He clutched her hands tighter.

“I don’t need you to be Tokoha, or Shion, or anyone else. I need you to be you, Kumi. Because you are the one irreplaceable constant in my life. Because you are the only person I can always rely on. Because I would be lost without you waiting by my side.”

Dropping her hands, Chrono smiled tenderly at her.

The late afternoon sun pouring through the kitchen window contoured him in a golden glow. 

“So, Kumi, if you’re still willing to after all this time - ”

Raising a hand, Chrono offered his open palm to Kumi.

His brilliant green eyes held a familiar light.

“ - won’t you keep walking with me?”

(Later, much later, after they’d mopped the kitchen three times and explained to her parents why they both smelled like chicken stock, they laid beside each on Chrono’s bed, staring up at his ceiling.)

(“So you’re going to fight him then? Myoujin Ryuzu?”)

(“Yeah.”)

(“Even though it’s so dangerous?”)

(“I can’t forgive him for what he’s done.”)

(The ceiling light hummed almost imperceptibly above them.)

(“I’ll be waiting for you to get back.”)

(“I know.”)

“Say, Kumi.”

“Hm?” Kumi responded, looking up from washing the rice, “what is it?”

Chrono opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again.

“So, just hypothetically,” he began, “if I told oji-san and oba-san that Jaime invited me, Tokoha, Shion, and Taiyou to a random tropical island in the middle of nowhere for a weekend, do you think they’d let me go?”

Kumi blinked.

“Chrono, you were kidnapped twice in two days. What do you think?”

Chrono sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

“That would make sense,” he admitted, flicking at the piece of leftover carrot on the cutting board.

Frowning, Kumi wiped her hands on her apron.

“Why is Jaime inviting you guys on a trip?”

“He said that it’s special training for what’s coming up. And honestly, we probably need it. Now that Myoujin has Dran and the others…”

Chrono trailed off, his distant gaze intensifying.

Kumi looked away and bit her lip.

No one had ever said it out loud, but from the way that everyone has been acting since Chrono was brought back, Kumi knew it too -

The end was coming.

And Kumi may not be able to stand beside Chrono to face that end, but she could still support him from this front. If Chrono trusted her enough to reach out, then she would - could always reach back.

“Well,” Kumi mused, “otou-san and okaa-san do love Jaime.”

Chrono turned towards her, hopeful.

“Yeah?”

“And they do trust Tokoha-chan and Kiba-kun, and are grateful that they put that much time and effort into finding you.”

Kumi leaned towards Chrono with a wink.

“Plus, it’s always easier to convince them when it’s two versus two.”

Chrono let out a sigh of relief, before giving Kumi a bright smile.

“Thanks Kumi, you’re the best!”

“Don’t thank me yet, we still have to convince them. Plus, I am honestly surprised that Mikuru-san hasn’t tried to microchip you in your sleep yet. Though, if she did, I probably wouldn’t try to stop her.”

“Wait, you don’t actually think…?”

“...well, she did spend an awfully long time talking to Kiba-kun when they were here the other day.”

“...oh god.”

Kumi closed the book in her lap as Chrono walked into the living room, peeling off his jacket.

“Did you actually see her?” she asked as he settled down onto the couch beside her, “did you see Am-chan?”

“Yeah. It was her,” he replied, staring up at the ceiling, “she said she left Company and wanted our help to save Luna.”

His fingers toyed with the fabric of his jeans.

“She also called up Shion and Tokoha.”

Kumi pursed her lips.

“Then Kiba-kun must have…”

“Yeah, he did.”

They both fell silent.

“What ended up happening to…?”

“Tokoha took her home. I just walked them there.”

Leaning forward, Chrono clenched his fist.

“I just - I don’t know what to do. I know she had her reasons, and that Tokoha feels guilty about not being able to stop her back then. I know that she could help us save Luna. But I can’t just forget what she did to Shion either. Nor what happened at the United Sanctuary Branch.”

Kumi sat silently for another moment before reaching over to put a hand over Chrono’s.

“I was friends with Am-chan too,” she began, quietly.

Neatly parted blue hair, mahogany eyes lit with a playful glint, and fervent defences of fish-paste cake tempera flashed through her mind.

“But if I could spare the person who was beside me - who always believed in me - any bit of pain at all, I think I would at least consider it. No matter what the cost.”

Taking a deep breath, Chrono unfurled his hand under hers.

“I think I can understand that.”

Kumi barely heard the front door open before she threw herself off her bed and started racing down the stairs.

She reached Chrono just as he finished taking off his shoes, and tackled him in a tight hug.

Almost immediately, Chrono’s arms wrapped around Kumi, pulling her in even closer.

His jacket smelled of soot and disinfectant.

They simply stayed like that, together, for a few seconds.

“Is it over?” Kumi asked quietly, still unmoving.

“It is,” Chrono replied, voice sounding almost muffled above Kumi’s left ear, between the layers of fabric and hair, “it’s finally over.”

“Are you…? Is everyone…?”

Kumi felt Chrono stiffen.

“Shion and Ibuki are… the doctors are confident that they’ll be okay. But everyone else is fine. I’m fine.”

“That’s… that’s good.”

She could barely make out the ticking of the living room clock over the sound of their breaths.

“You know, I saw my parents today.”

Kumi startled, shifting a bit in Chrono’s grip.

“Tokimi-oba-san and Rive-oji-san?”

“Yeah. We were eating breakfast together. My dad invited me, Tokoha, and Shion to a tournament. And my mom, she looked so much like oba-san. Much more than in the photo albums.”

“Well, they are sisters after all.”

Chrono huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah.”

There was a pause.

“And you know,” Chrono started again, “it was nice. It felt good, comfortable. Normal, even. And maybe it was. Maybe… maybe in some other world, that’s how things were supposed to be. Maybe that’s where home is supposed to be.”

Chrono’s voice sounded strange - distant in a way that it hadn’t been before.

“But, that isn’t my home. And maybe I shouldn’t feel this way, but for some reason… part of me is almost glad that it isn’t.”

With her face pressed against Chrono’s chest, grounded by the steady thumping of his heartbeat, Kumi thought about the empty guest room that she had passed on her way to the stairs, her mom humming to herself over the omelettes, the cat that had weaved around her ankles at breakfast, the mahogany bookcase in place of the shrine - 

The idyllic, hollow perfection of it all.

Kumi smiled, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill onto Chrono’s jacket as she tightened her grip.

“Me, too.”

The departure gate bustled around them as Kumi watched Tokoha disappear into green and pink speck in the distance.

Suddenly, there was a faint tugging at her sleeve.

“Come on,” Chrono’s voice sounded from beside her, “we’re all going to the observation deck to wait for her plane to take off.”

Kumi nodded as she turned to follow Chrono towards the glass doors. Ahead of them, Taiyou was talking animatedly with a nodding Shion, Luna leaned towards Am to show her something on her phone, and Mamoru appeared to be making valiant attempts to calm his worried parents.

“Aaah, I miss Tokoha-chan already!” she exclaimed, tugging at her backpack straps.

“Didn’t you guys make a super detailed video-call schedule or something?”

“We did, but I still won’t get to see her for at least a year!”

Chrono gave a commiserating smile in response, before looking off into the distance.

“So she finally did it, huh? She’s finally chasing her dreams.”

His eyes sparkled in excitement.

“I can’t wait to see how much stronger she gets.”

Kumi narrowed her eyes and gave him a light smack on the shoulder.

“Oi!”

“Is Vanguard all that you care about?”

“No it isn’t! I bet Tokoha will get better at other stuff too. Like French. Or cooking.”

“...I definitely hope she gets better at cooking. A lot better. Especially if she’s living by herself.”

Chrono laughed before turning to Kumi with a sly smirk.

“Speaking of cooking. So, Kumi. Do you want to make croquettes for dinner tonight?”

Kumi immediately blanched.

“I’ve had nothing but croquettes for the last 3 days. I don’t want to see a potato for the next month, thank you.”

“Ah, the perils of being Anjou Tokoha’s best friend.”

“Like you and Kiba-kun have had it any better lately.”

Chrono rolled his eyes, before lacing his fingers at the back of his head.

His pace slowed beside her.

“Things are going to be pretty different around here from now on, aren’t they?” he said, apropos to nothing.

Kumi stayed quiet at his abrupt change of tone.

“Tokoha will be off in France, Shion is going to Fukuhara, and everyone else is busy with their own lives - ”

He tilted his head up thoughtfully.

“ - it’ll just be the two of us again.”

The two of them.

Just the two of them.

What had been so normal a mere year ago, yet now sounded so lonely.

“But,” he continued, catching Kumi’s eye with a knowing smile as they approached the sliding doors, “we’ll always have each other.”

His bright green eyes glistened with a familiar light under the clear blue skies.