[hughes] fanfiction post; bokurano
Author: digi_dragon
Title: Inevitable
Fandom: Bokurano
Pairing: Waku/Machi
Rating: PG-13
Words (in total): 22,950
Disclaimer: I do not own Bokurano.
Summary: They meet and had no idea they'd seen each other before, but that's not the end of the story...
Notes: This is long. There are three parts. It is a love letter to my Bokurano_RP, but I tried to craft it so that anyone can really take SOMETHING from it. More notes at the end, formatting normal under the cut.
Part 1
It’s a surreal moment when they’re all standing in front of the high school, and it’s Kako who breaks the silence. “We’re all going to be in the same school.” He laughs a bit, looks around at the others to see they aren’t laughing, and stops. “...Just seems a bit weird this time.”
Mayako pushes past them. “Whatever. If any of you cramp my style, I no longer know you.”
“I didn’t know you had style,” Nakama replies evenly, following the scissor-haired girl in gothic boots. (Honestly, she would have to adhere to the dress code eventually...) She’s been going to school with Mayako for a year now; she knows how to handle her, the rest of them know.
“Should we show you around?” Kirie asks it, with a smile on his face. He is sixteen. For the first time in any lifetime, he is sixteen.
“Why not?” Moji asks. He will always be somewhat frail, but it’s been nearly three years and there’s no sign of his cancer returning. They keep their fingers crossed every day. “It’ll be a learning experience for us all!” He follows Kirie with Chizu close behind.
Waku can’t help but linger, looking in the direction of Yashio ladder school. “You really think Kana’ll be okay without me?”
It’s Kodaka who says, “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.” There’s something close to a smile on his face, at least close to it in Kodaka-speak.
A conflicted Waku follows as Machi pats his back, though he can tell she’s hiding a smile herself. Why, he wonders, did his baby sister have to grow up?
------------------------
They are studying; really they are. There’s no doubt about it that they are studying, because high school is a lot harder than they ever could have imagined and they’ve gotta study for that big test in-- ...whatever class it is they have together. Making out sort of distracts a person from basic thought functions.
There’s a sound at the stairs and they pull apart quickly, going back to-- biology, that’s what it is-- only to see Hoshi come down the stairs, not anyone who will give them a hard time. First Machi relaxes, then she gets a little annoyed; that was a very good time she just pulled herself away from. She gets very annoyed.
But Hoshi is, even more than usual, a ray of sunshine, humming and walking right over to the dishes they left in the sink. “I’ll get those for you!” And she continues humming. She’s so cheerful that Machi’s almost positive that a horde of wild animals will join in on cleaning up the entire house.
It’s almost infecting. But Machi only raises an eyebrow in Waku’s direction. He stifles a laugh and only makes a gesture with his head, like watch this.
“So, Sis,” he starts, casual enough. “How’s your Global Cultures class going?”
“Oh, great, Takashi! Thank you for asking.” Absolutely dripping rainbows, seriously.
“...That’s the class you’ve got that exchange student in, right? The one who’s, like, a prince or something?”
Hoshi doesn’t even verbally answer; she chirps a response. It’s obvious from the inflection what it is.
And then it all falls into place. Quatre? Machi mouths, and Quatre, Waku mouths back. She holds in her laughter and only smiles.
------------------------
It’s a lazy summer night sometime in 2053 that Waku is enjoying the thrills of a quiet night at home. Everyone was out, busy. Hoshi, having graduated, is in a study abroad program in Sudan. (She was enjoying it very much.) Kaz is in a culinary school in inner Tokyo. Kana is studying at a friend’s house. (Studying at this age means slumber party.) His parents are out doing...something; he doesn’t try and figure out their weird relationship anymore.
The door bursts open and he idly wonders why they never lock that thing anymore.
“Waku!” Kako’s there, panicked and panting.
“That’s right. Defy convention. Knocking is for kids anyway.” Waku stands up, muting the television.
“Waku, I need your help, I did-- I did something really--”
A trace of worry crosses his face and he walks over to Kako, who has started to pace. “Hey, whoa, calm down. What’s--?”
But Kako continues to look around frantically, his hands running over his hair. “Oh man, he’s gonna kill me, Daiichi is gonna kill me!”
Like a flickering light-bulb, Waku starts to get an idea of what was going on. “Wait. Slow down.”
The other boy just turns to him and asks, “Do you think he’ll remember that one Earth where we were brothers? Maybe that’ll keep him from--” He finally catches the look in Waku’s eyes, which is the epitome of if you don’t explain what is going on right now I will send a soccer ball flying at your head. They all know each other well enough to have looks like that. “...I kissed Futaba.”
Times like this make Waku feel like an old man, mostly because everyone around him acts like little kids. The sigh that slips out of his mouth ends up spreading through his whole body, and he really could use a cigarette right about now. (Why did Kako go to him? Is he trying to put together a group of people to fight Daiichi back if he did end up trying to kill him? Waku sincerely doubts anything will come of that, because Daiichi lifts heavy concrete blocks nearly every day and Waku is rather attached to his head; he can’t help it, he’s selfish that way.)
“Maybe if I lock him in a room and then explain it, he’ll-- Waku, what are you doing?”
Cell phone in hand, Waku dials a number quickly and, nonplussed, says, “Hey, Yamura. So Kako’s over here. He kissed Futaba. Freaking out about it. You two should probably talk. Yeah, I’ll keep him here. Nice talkin’, man.”
And, while Kako is standing there, a look of pure horror on his face, Waku walks over to the door, closes it, locks it, and then goes back to the television. When Daiichi gets there ten minutes later, Waku literally shoves Kako out the door, telling him, Jesus Christ, to man up and face his problems, damn it. The fact that he can’t hear any screams after this is already a good sign that things will turn out alright.
Later that night, he calls up Maria.
“When did our lives become a girls’ manga?”
“Don’t ask me. You’re the one who makes kissy-faces between classes.”
“...You realize this means I have to take down your macaroni picture from kindergarten, right?”
“Go ahead. I took yours down ten years ago.”
“What, but no, we promised we’d keep those up until we got old or mushy or boring.”
“Obviously one of those happened.”
Well, Waku is so furious he resolves not to speak to her for a week. (He only makes it a few hours.)
------------------------
Waku’s eighteenth birthday is a time to behold, really. As the first one from their middle school group to make it to that age, it warrants quite a bit of celebration. (And quite a bit of teasing, as he’ll be twenty when he graduates high school.)
At one point during the night, Kanji sighs, “Man, if only someone was a Dung Beetle, we could teleport to America and Waku could get us all beer!”
“The legal age for America is twenty-one,” Kodaka informs him with a piteous expression.
“...Really?”
Komo, who should really be used to it about now, looks at him with a cross between shock and you’re an idiot.
“You stupid fuck.” Waku enjoys himself at least.
But it’s later, after everyone else has left, that starts to get really interesting. The night’s gone on forever, and they do have school the next day, so eventually the house clears out. Machi lingers, and somehow they end up in his room, not wanting to wake his parents or Kana who have already gone to sleep. (Hoshi and Kaz both still out of the house, sending their love, best wishes, and gifts.)
“Okay,” Waku says eventually. “We should get you home. I can walk you.”
But, a tell-tale smile on her face, Machi stays sitting on his bed, catching his hand. “Wait. Um... Hey, what’d Kanji get you this year?”
A bit confused on where this is coming from, Waku snorts. “What does he get me every year? Condoms.” Click. “...We’re not even--”
At the same time Machi threatens, “If you say ‘we’re not even married,’ I will punch you in the arm!”
“--married, ack-- no, wait, Machi, come on. Really? Now?” It’s a very good thing that the door is closed. And locked. No, she’s right there, and she’s asking him-- well, he’s not six, she’s asking for sex, and what can he say?
She shifts uncomfortably, pulling a strand of hair-- she’s been growing it out, it’s really nice, but then she always looks really nice, but more than just really nice-- letting go of his hand. “...If you don’t want to, then...”
Suddenly this is a conversation he really doesn’t want to be having. “That’s not the issue. It’s-- Machi, we’re kids.”
“Not anymore than we were,” she retorts, and he knows what she’s talking about. “We’ve done it before.”
And because he has the feeling this is going to go on for awhile, he sits down next to her. “Not on this Earth. Any other time--” Because he can remember more than once, if only vaguely, it’s always if only vaguely.
“We were going to die,” she finishes for him in a small voice, as if the room’s all closed in and there isn’t enough space to breathe. “Don’t you want to when it’s not just...something we won’t get to do again?”
The real problem is she’s biting her lip and that damn moonlight’s back. He wishes he could turn it off because it always just makes her prettier and then it gets hard to think. But not right now; right now...it might make it easier. “We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us this time.”
“But if we want to now, shouldn’t we have that choice too?”
The real problem is she’s stubborn.
He would be lying if he says he’s never thought about it; he’s a teenage boy and she’s gorgeous and he’s hopelessly in love with her, so what’s not to think about? Before, however, it was easier -- because before, if something went wrong, they wouldn’t have to worry about it for long because they would be dead. No matter how much she tells him otherwise, he worries. He worries about messing up or doing something to hurt her. So this...this sudden physical expression...it makes everything even more real. (But it’s already real because lifetime after lifetime, they’ve chosen each other in obvious and subtle ways, and this shouldn’t change anything, but they are just children.)
All of this thought takes time, and between the first thought and the last, Machi’s standing up. “Look, I don’t want to pressure you into sleeping with me--”
“Don’t say it like that, it makes me sound pathetic.” When she laughs a little, he knows he’s doing something right. (Paper-thin smiles, this could make or break everything.) “...You want to do this? Really?”
Her lips purse and her eyebrows knit together. “I’ve already made that clear, haven’t I?”
So that’s all it takes. He seizes himself up and says, “Okay,” and that’s all it takes.
------------------------
For the next few days, they’re both sort of sugary-sweet, sort of sour. It was still awkward (to be expected), but in a way that’s wonderful too. And though she has done this before, on other Earths, in other lives, she can never quite remember that it hurts after for awhile. But it’s mostly sweet, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You had sex, didn’t you?” Machi bristles and squeaks, spinning around to see Ushiro, dry, knowing smirk on his face. She’s returning from shopping when he finds her, grocery bags in hand. “Knew it.”
“Keep it down!” She hisses, glaring at him and raising her fist to threaten him.
His hands rise in response, a surrendering gesture though he has no hint of surrender on his face. “Just confirming a suspicion. No need to get worked up.”
She huffs and turns back around. “Well, that’s private,” and she keeps walking. He’s following her, she knows, but that’s alright; they are friends, after all. He’s just a bit tough to deal with sometimes.
“...I’m not going to spread it around if you really want to keep it secret.” That’s nice enough, she figures, and she’s rather glad for that. “I don’t think it’ll take very long for everyone to figure it out, though.” That’s probably true; it didn’t take them very long for them to guess with Daiichi and Nakama or Kanji and Komo. “Almost kind of nice that you got to.”
It’s at this point that she stops walking and turns, a little frown forming. “You’re talkative today. What’s wrong?”
But he keeps walking so she’s forced to as well.
“It’s just nice. You’re happy. You’re all happy.”
Her shoulders sag a little. “...Sorry.” Because they’ve all consistently found someone from Earth to Earth; he hasn’t.
“What’s there to be sorry about?” He responds as if speaking to a confused child, a hint of annoyance rising. “Just because I don’t have a lovely soul mate forever like the rest of you? Predestination takes the fun out of anything left over.”
It almost makes sense to her, this train of thought, but to be honest she’s so used to fate and destiny that it throws her for a loop. As they get closer to her house, it starts to make a bit more sense. “...You’re seeing someone?”
A groan of exasperation. “Really, Machi, is that always what it comes back to?”
“But you are!” She pushes the subject; Anko was right, all those years ago, she really can’t resist good gossip, especially if it’s the happy kind.
She stops in front of her little one-story house and he keeps walking, but then he stops, turns, and smirks a bit. “Rue Ryuzaki.”
Naturally Machi convinces him to stay awhile and tell her about him. When he’s done, she doesn’t have the heart to tell him it sounds like the guy he’s dating is a bit of a sociopath.
------------------------
One day, Shirou makes a comment about how they should visit India and then visit California. Machi looks at him all funny and he shakes his head, muttering that he’s just talking shit and she should ignore him.
He never brings it up again, but one night he’s on the phone for a very, very long time with people she’s never even heard of.
------------------------
There’s this one time -- Waku’s on the soccer team again, and they’re all there cheering for him and naturally he’s the best one out there, right? They win and celebrate and after they can pry him away from their teammates, they go out to eat (but really “out to eat” is at the Ichinose restaurant since Maria and Kirie have a night off).
Between jokes about watching him even when he’s playing in the World Cup, Waku says honestly, “I don’t want to play for the World Cup.”
Silence.
“I don’t want to be a soccer player at all, actually.” He amends a moment later, “Not for work or anything. Seriously, how hard would that be? How likely?”
“That’s...the only reason?” Moji asks carefully, like he knows that’s not the answer. (Waku is lazy, very lazy, but there’s more to him than that.)
“You love soccer,” Maria adds unnecessarily, like he needs reminding.
He shrugs. “Sure I do. There’s just other things I might love more.”
(Machi catches him reading books about child psychology and social work, so when he states years later that he’s looking into being a children’s social worker, combined with all the lives they’ve had and all he’s seen, it doesn’t surprise her one bit.)
------------------------
They’re all going slowly mad from entrance exams (though some of them aren’t going to go to college, like Maki who’s going to train to be a fighter pilot and Daiichi who needs to spend the time working to put Futaba, Santa, and Yoshi through college one day). The question of what they’re going to do with the rest of their lives has cropped up, and the problem with that is they’ve never gotten this far, so it’s all very new and confusing. Those that aren’t going to postsecondary education are helping those that are, and Nakama insists the younger grade study too (“you can never start too soon”), so it’s really a group effort.
When it’s decided that any more studying will drive them all insane, they go out to eat (but really “out to eat” is still at the Ichinose restaurant on a night that Maria and Kirie have off). They sit girls and boys, because they feel like being kids again. Maki sits with the guys-- because Maki is preparing for a sex change operation and she-- he’s been wearing a male uniform for the past few years and it feels right and no one questions it.
Amidst it all, there’s a subtle question in the air-- a question about Kanji and Komo, who have been acting...weird all night. Weird in a way that’s different than their usual weird. She still calls him an idiot and makes the usual banter, but it’s in a way that’s secure and happy, and he’s got this stupid grin on his face and it won’t come off.
When Komo starts talking about a career that’s not inheriting her family’s money, they all know something’s up. They must proceed gently and delicately.
“You don’t have to worry about college, though,” Maria points out bluntly. “You’re going to be rich.”
Gently and delicately. Yeah. (It’s okay, because Komo and Maria have, for years, gone to the same martial arts class, been close friends.) Komo laughs nervously in response.
“Well, it’s just...something that’s opened up. I’ve always wanted to go to college and pursue a career of my own. And--”
Tsubasa spots it. On her ring finger, right hand. “I’ll be. Anvil-head proposed, didn’t he?”
It’s loud enough so that everyone can hear it, and immediately there’s a hush. This is followed by the biggest racket they’ve made in quite awhile, as a smiling Komo confirms the news. Kanji’s clapped on the back and congratulated, and in the fuss somehow Mayako gets called up, because she’s, oddly enough, become quite fashion sensible and her making a dress would be a great way to save money (because once her parents find out, Komo won’t have any left).
It’s around the time that Komo starts discussing the possibility of specialty schools or smaller ones and Kanji admits he’s thinking of taking over his uncle’s mechanic shop fulltime that Machi meets Waku’s eyes, and it’s there for only a moment, then she’s giggling and fussing over Komo with the rest of them, but a single thought passes between them, a this is really happening and the knowledge that one day, that could be them.
------------------------
It’s weird for outsiders looking in. They’re a group who, for all extents and purposes, mostly met in middle school. Despite this, they talk with the camaraderie of old war veterans sometimes, talk on the same level as those grown (though Shirou will never be “grown” to them, he’ll always be a bit of a kid). There are times when their conversations grow more mature than they can afford others to hear and they have to cut them back.
What puzzles most is the fact that an entire group of kids seem to have kept up steady relationships that they started in middle school or younger, all the way through high school. And now marriage for one of them. Truly, they are a confusing group, and they don’t deny it. (One day when Kana started talking about the Game to Futaba, Waku almost froze up entirely, because his little sister was suddenly a little less innocent, a little less pure, but then that moment passed and he accepted that she would always be a part of it too.)
Their parents ask them about it. It’s not that they aren’t happy for them, but don’t some childhood friends grow apart? Don’t some lose contact? Not this group. Not these kids.
(Worse was the day when Machi walked up to her parents and just hugged both of them, told them how much she loved them, how much she appreciated them. They were sure that their little girl had gotten in trouble at school or had broken something or done something wrong, but no, it was just affection-- but not just.)
It’s troubling. So troubling. Just how close they all are; it’s like they’ve known each other for much, much longer.
------------------------
They stand with Kirie outside the high school after graduation. Silent, almost somber, but not.
“How’s it feel?” Daiichi asks, appearing to be full-grown now.
Kirie is eighteen. His hair is longer. He is slimmer, trimmer, just because of how he grew. He is older.
He is older.
He laughs, smiles, and then cries. He can’t help it; he just cries. Maria hugs him and it’s girly, but the rest of them join in, best they can.
They all get to grow up, and he gets to grow up with them.
------------------------
Kanji proposed to Komo right before she turned eighteen. She told her parents about it a month later, upon which she was promptly disowned.
She lives with Maria for the duration of the school year, planning a wedding for the summer. (Maria because Maki’s apartment is too small, and Granny Ichinose always loves company, so long as they don’t interrupt her soaps.) It would be fairly small, as her family would not be attending and Kanji’s is tiny. It’s set that Maki’s father, having known Komo since she was a toddler, will give the girl away. Kenzo is just as proud a parent as Tomoe should have been.
It’s lucky that Komo got into art school on scholarships. (Art school because her passion for manga is greater than any of them could have ever guessed-- except maybe Maki and Kanji.) She wouldn’t have had enough money to get into any normal school, that’s for sure. But a small wedding...it helps. Kanji’s mom amazingly helps out. It’s the first time she’s shown her son any attention. Any at all.
Waku pretends he doesn’t notice when Kanji’s wiping his eyes after getting off the phone with her.
And now, in a small dining hall in Shinjuku, they’re dancing in the wedding reception. Akemi, who’s just turned five, is the flower girl, of course, and Santa is the ring bearer. It made sense, since neither Kanji nor Komo know any other kids outside this group.
Taking a break from the reception, Waku stands with Chizu and Daiichi, who are watching their daughter and brother dance clumsily. (It makes for good photo opportunities, the flower girl and ring bearer dancing together.) Santa is smiling and subdued, and Daiichi has a hard time believing it.
“He’s always been so fascinated with that kid of yours, Chizu,” he says in an offhand tone, a little smile lighting his face.
Chizu, of course, surprises the both of them by saying, “Yeah. Maybe he’ll marry her someday.”
“CHIZU!!” Daiichi roars, eyes wide and unable to comprehend the idea of his baby brother (he’s ten, not five) getting married one day. Waku just looks on, wondering silently when Machi will get back from the bathroom, though unable to look away, if only to satiate his sadistic curiosity.
With a horrid grin, Chizu adds, “Man, if that happens, I’ll be your mother-in-law, Daiichi! How weird would that be?!” She laughs-- no, cackles.
Waku is positive that Moji has been a horrible influence on her. Or maybe they’ve been a horrible influence on each other. “If you don’t stop saying disturbing things, we cannot be friends anymore,” he tells her with a straight face.
Chizu just keeps up her grin (and he can’t help but smile, because God, she’s so happy and it’s not at all forced), and a few minutes later Moji returns (cancer free still, in his last year of high school with them) to whisk her off to the dance floor.
“You don’t think they’ll actually get married, do you, Waku?” Daiichi asks, loosening his collar.
Because maybe Moji’s been a horrible influence on him too (or maybe Machi, she’s a devil at times), he just replies, “Well, if Kanji can get married, anything’s possible.”
And at that moment, his girlfriend returns and he leaves Daiichi white-faced and frozen.
(Santa doesn’t get over his fascination with Akemi. Not one bit.)
------------------------
The campus is positively alight with activity, but not because of any special event, no. Instead it’s because the term will be out for summer break soon, and finals and papers and last-minute assignments must be completed. It’s all a hassle for Machi; she thought that she would be used to it by now, the running about, the juggling of assignments, the never-ending workload. What a silly idea.
It’s 2059 and she is a student at a university in Tokyo, undergoing her final year of college education. After this, she’s going to go into graduate school to get her master’s degree in education -- kind of funny, she thinks, given her past jabs against school in general -- and hopefully begin teaching elementary school. Hopefully because she may go insane before she gets to that point, but one day a time, right?
It has been nine years since her group of friends has met, and for the first time they can all remember, all of them are alive. All of them made it to college -- even little Kana’s starting next year, not so little anymore. Several years ago, Yuu had been formally adopted by Shirou, who really took to being a father-figure, though don’t ask him to say that. He and Mayako are married. (Small service, just their family and close friends, and even then getting everyone together was difficult; many only could make a cursory appearance.) Akemi is nine. Moji won some kind of poetry contest a few months back and insisted on putting all of it into the stock market. The rest of them are convinced it’ll go nowhere. After college, Maria decided to be an aid worker in Africa. She’s scheduled to go to Kenya in just a few weeks.
Everyone is busy, moving on with their lives. Having lives. They used to have yearly get-togethers, multiple times every summer, but eventually four times became three and three times became two and before they knew it, their schedules would crisscross and glide by each other, just passing, just missing.
There are still phone conversations, though, still correspondences. And Waku goes to college in a university across the city, so it’s easy to see him, which is always a plus. (If only everyone stayed in or around Tokyo, because that would make things so easy, but between the sixteen of them, they’re spread from Nagasaki to Sapporo and beyond.)
At least this is the last day of classes, and at least the class only requires showing up and turning in a paper that she has slaved on for countless hours. She crosses campus, messenger bag slung over her shoulder and determination etched into her face. Nothing at all is going to slow her down, because the moment she turns that paper in, she is free for the summer. That thought alone almost melts her.
Of course, a tall, striped roadblock decides to derail these plans. Waku all but steps entirely in front of her, causing her to stop dead in her tracks and crane her head back to look at him. (Damn it, why did he have to be a Frankenstein-like creature and her a dwarf?) “What are you doing here?”
“Wow. I trek all the way across Tokyo, through pouring rain and killer hail--” It was bright and sunny out-- “--and this is the greeting I get? I had to fight through killer crowds and there was a hobo with a baseball bat--”
She put a hand on his chest. Could she comfortably reach (bag, weighing her down), she would have put it over his mouth. “Waku, I have no time for your epic stories about braving the streets of Tokyo. I need to-- is that a nicotine patch?”
This time the thought-train goes off the tracks because the one thing she never thought she’d see in her entire life is Waku with a nicotine patch. She’s given up telling him that they’ll kill him one day, so she knows instantly something’s up.
He shrugs, his own carefully planned out speech apparently delayed. (This was supposed to be easy. Kanji said it was easy. Moji said it was easy, for him it was apparently so simple, he used some poetry or something--) “Yeah. Um, those things’ll, well. They’ll kill me one day, so I figured why not.”
All previous thoughts of turning in her paper and freedom abandoned, she peers into his eyes. There’s something. There’s something there, something different. Something a little scared but a little confident, something...definite. It’s so striking.
He sighs. “Look, I’m not really good with all the smoke and mirrors or whatever they’re called, so I’ll just-- I love you. I could go into some big cheesy monologue, but...you already know that stuff. So I’ll just...get to the important part.” And right there on the quad, he kneels down, pulls out a ring from his pocket, and she’s sure it’s like all those other Earths where she went into a brief daydream of this moment because it can’t really be happening, right? “Will you marry me?”
He looks so uncomfortable saying it (because it’s so cliché and he’s become a sap like Moji, he’ll later tell her), but at the same time he’s sure and serious and holy crap, it really is real, isn’t it? It’s attracted some attention; people are stopping to stare for a moment, murmuring to each other. This is the moment she realizes she actually needs to answer.
But he clarifies a moment later, “I know we’re still in school and we’ll be...busy with everything for a few years, but-- I don’t want-- I want to get married. Soon. Not like Moji and Chizu after they’re done with school. Not like everyone else. Soon.”
A few more seconds pass and he opens his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off. (She’s so sure of what it’ll be, so sure.) “Do you even think there’s a chance I’ll say no?” She takes the ring and then takes advantage of the fact that she’s taller than him, vantage-wise, and in attempting to tackle him for a kiss she actually tackles him and they’re sprawled out on the ground, messenger bag discarded.
She’s vaguely aware of cheering in the background and a hand taps her on the shoulder, leaving her to wonder who the hell could interrupt her in this--
Chizu grins down at her. “So. Should I turn in that paper for you?”
The advantages of going to college with one of her friends honestly round this moment out.
------------------------
Now, let’s make it very clear that Waku had heard horror stories of wedding planning, but he never took them seriously. How hard could planning be? Throw planning to the wind! Be lazy! Just go with the flow! When all of this starts, that is his state of mind.
In approximately three weeks, he learns that this is a very bad philosophy to have. As it turns out, for many Earths, Machi, like other little girls, fantasized about a perfect wedding. This meant going with the flow is not going to cut it. He has to make things absolutely flawless.
But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to complain about it in the process. “How did you do it, Kanji?” He asks, hunched over guest lists and caterer details and countless other pages. He’s talking to the other man on the phone, because Kanji’s got work to do.
Kanji owns his Uncle’s old auto mechanic shop now, and with Komo out of art school it makes them some of the only people who still live in Shinagawa, still are close enough to go and visit on a regular basis. Between them and Daiichi and Kodaka (who completed graduate school before the rest of them were done with college and is already working on “that pesky global warming problem”) and Chizu and Moji (who is steadily becoming a rich bastard off the stock market), there’s not much of the group left in walking distance. Everyone else is busy with school or off saving the hungry children or something. (He missed Maria.)
“Just stop worrying so much,” Kanji replies. In the background, Waku can hear clinking and tinkering and engines. “Machi loves you. She’ll be fine if it’s not, like, perfect.”
“No, see. It has to be perfect.” This is said as if it will explain everything. After a moment, he elaborates, “...Everyone has to be there. And nothing can go wrong. This...she’s been waiting for this for lifetimes. I have to do this right.”
“She’s got her parents here. And we’re not all dying horrible deaths. I think that alone will make this her favorite.” Vague because people could overhear. “Oh, and she’s marrying you. I mean, I don’t see the appeal, but--”
“Fuck you,” Waku says conversationally. “Look, I should probably go. We’re, like, a hundred guests over the limit and I have to figure out how to break it to my extended-extended family that they’re not invited.”
Before he hangs up, Kanji chimes, “Remember! When in doubt, there’s always the small wedding idea! Worked for the rest of us!”
When “the rest of us” was the pairs of Kanji and Komo and Shirou and Mayako, Waku honestly didn’t know if he could take their advice seriously.
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They decide, in the end, on a wedding the following summer, because it seems to be the best time to gather everyone together and this summer is way too short notice. It’ll be a term into their first year of graduate school, and compounded with school work, planning already is becoming a pain.
Not just for Waku, too.
The stress of having a perfect wedding is getting to her too. (Just last week she all but yelled at Waku that they are not having all of Quatre’s family here just because Hoshi’s like, the queen of Sudan now.) She needs someone to talk to who’s been through this before, and she would ask her future sisters-in-law, but Hoshi is, as aforementioned, busy being the queen of Sudan, and Kana has only ever planned weddings for dolls.
So instead, she asks her current sister-in-law, as terrifying as that is. Mayako, currently heavily pregnant with her first child (how did it take this long for her to get pregnant?) walked with Machi through Shinagawa’s park. She had gone into the world of fashion -- as a consultant -- for about a year, but then she’d decided quite recently that what she really wants to do is be a mother. Nothing could bring her more joy; so in order to take care of her daughter, her leave off from work will be her resignation.
“If she’s anything like her dad, she’ll be enough of a handful,” she’d justified earlier.
“I just...how do I get through it? I used to think about the day I’d get married and sigh all happy-like, and now I just dread it.” So much to do, and then there’s student teaching...
“The big secret,” Mayako declares in her usual tone for dealing with stupid Machi siblings, “is to relax. Seriously, you’re both making it out to be this great big deal.”
In return, Machi protests, “But it is.” They pass a trail of kids, chasing each other down the path while a woman probably ten years or so older than them follows. “...I’m taking my first step to...to starting a family. And I’m getting married. It’s not...” She looks at the ring on her finger. “It’s not something I want to take lightly.”
“I’m not saying that.” They reach a bench and Mayako abruptly sits down, because she needs to sit down often now. “I’m saying stop acting like every little problem is the end of the world. When I stopped doing that, it got a lot better.”
Standing beside the bench, Machi grumbles, “You don’t have an overfilled guest-list, conflicting reviews on venues, and piles of college debt rising.” Snap, flash! A camera goes off in Machi’s face, causing her to shriek and cover her eyes moments too late. Rubbing the tears out of them, she yells, “Mayako, what the hell?!”
She can just hear Mayako shrugging. “Things are going to go wrong. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can enjoy your coming wedding day. Stop holding on to this illusion and get ready for reality. ‘Cause it’s gonna be pretty great.”
Fighting back a whine and sitting down now, blinking spots from her eyes, Machi mumbles, “...Okay. Okay, fine. But why’d you blind me?”
Through half-closed eyes, she can see that horrible fucking mocking grin. “Because it was fun!”
“I hate you so much.”
Mayako hugs her in response.
(Her first daughter is born a month later; she and Shirou name her Yoko.)
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The night’s long since fallen, and she should, because at last there’s a momentary reprieve, be sleeping or at least not standing in front of a full-length mirror staring at a young woman in a white dress, but honestly Machi can’t help it. In one week’s time, she will be wearing this dress again, except that time she will be walking down an aisle with her friends and family watching and she will be marrying the love of her life (of all her lives). She will finally be fulfilling a childhood fantasy that in all her sets of memories has never once come to pass.
For that reason, she has a staring contest with the young woman who she imagines is getting married in a few hours rather than several days; it’s a weird look into the future, that’s all.
Except the future isn’t the future because there’s someone who shouldn’t be there in the corner of the mirror, and she turns to see her brother in her doorway (and a memory of years before crops up, where he’s cryptic and loving and she never does recall which lifetime inspired those feelings). “Oniichan. What’re you doing up?”
“Making sure you aren’t trying to slit your wrist with that stupid ring on your finger,” he responds.
“Classy.” She rolls her eyes and runs a hand through her hair, because it never quite falls right in this dress, maybe she should just cut it all off tomorrow-- no, no, that’s getting crazy again, crazy is what she most certainly is not tonight.
Looking at his reflection instead of the man behind her, she asks, “No really. What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Mayako and my mini-me?”
“Please,” he replies, shrugging off his worn jacket (the one that belonged to their father, the one that he refuses to get rid of), “she’s got a handle on the brat.”
A small pause and she purses her lips. “You aren’t here to try and talk me out of it, are you?”
“Yoko, I am shocked that you’d think I’d stoop to something like that.” Her gaze now is on him instead of his reflection and he cracks. “If you want me to kill him, I can, don’t feel like you have to go through with this.”
She groans. “Oniichan--”
“Seriously, I can dispose of the body for you--”
“Oniichan!” He stops. “I’m getting married. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“You’re my baby sister,” he retorts, and in retrospect it she thinks Shirou and Waku should be best friends, given how much they irrationally try and limit their younger sisters’ involvement with men. “Sweet, innocent, and--”
“Stop.” She rubs her temples. “I’m twenty-three. If I wasn’t a baby when I was thirteen, there’s no way I’d be one ten years later.” She walks up to him, careful not to step on her dress. (Bare feet, even if she did step on it, it wouldn’t hurt it, right?) “Can’t you just be happy for me?”
In the dark room, it might be hard to see how he looks her over, his eyes travel from her face to the dress and back again, how he takes in the sight of his little sister in wedding clothes. It might be hard to see, but she sees it. So his very soft correction of “I am happy for you,” does not surprise her.
With a tiny smile, she hugs him, and he returns it. She’s still so small that he can wrap his arms around her and still have room for more, so it’s probably easy for him to imagine her as a child again. (Except it’s not, it’s never been easy because she’s so damn grown up.) “Tell you what,” she murmurs, the smile taking over her face completely. “When we have our first kid, you get to be the godfather.”
Though she’s not planning on kids until she’s through college and already started on her career, the sound he makes -- like a chicken in a garbage disposal -- is completely worth it.
(She’s pregnant less than a year after the wedding.)
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(There’s a moment that probably shouldn’t happen but it does. She’s standing in that cockpit again, shortly after talking to her brother, dress still on.
“My wedding’s in a week, Fakir.”
There is no answer. There can never be an answer.
“...Thank you. For letting me have this.”
There is no answer. But something more needs to be said.
“He’s sixteen now. He’s happy. He’s-- ...this might take awhile.”
A chair -- her chair -- appears and for once she’s not afraid of it. She sits and talks until what she’s sure would be daylight, but then Zearth operates on a different timeline than the one she’s on right now.)
Part 3