Fanfiction: Second Chances (Higurashi, Keiichi/Mion)
And here's the other fic I wrote for Yuletide 2020! This was a pinch hit for 
dereban. Higurashi's blend of the endearing and the horrific makes it such a fun canon to write for.
Title: Second Chances
Fandom: Higurashi: When They Cry
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Keiichi/Mion
Wordcount: 2,000
Summary: Dating your friend is hard as it is. Being trapped in a doomed time loop doesn't really make it any easier.
“You never get a second chance at a first date, you know,” Keiichi’s dad says, mock-solemnly.
“Shut up, Dad,” Keiichi says. “It’s not a date.”
-
“We’re here.” Keiichi parks up his bike, fishes the lock out of the basket. Once he’s secured it, he builds up the courage to look over at Mion.
Mion looks like she’s about to crack up laughing. “You’re taking me to Angel Mort?”
“I’m not taking you,” Keiichi says. “We’re just going to Angel Mort.”
“But you said you’re paying, right?”
She’s got her usual screwing-with-him smirk on, but she’s a little red in the face. Keiichi can’t think too much about that, or he’ll end up blushing too.
“Don’t get any weird ideas,” he says. “I’m just saying thanks for welcoming me into the village.”
“At Angel Mort,” Mion says. “At my uncle’s sexy waitress restaurant. Where you can stare at my sister in her sexy waitress uniform.”
It’s true that it probably wouldn’t be the perfect location for a date. If this were a date, which it isn’t. But it’s not like Keiichi knows a lot of restaurants in the area.
“Shion swung us a discount,” Keiichi says. “I thought you’d be happy. An old man like you? This is your natural habitat, isn’t it?”
“You brought me here to look at Shion?” Mion asks, raising her eyebrows. “I could just put on the uniform myself and stand in front of a mirror.”
Crap. Keiichi’s thinking about how Mion would look in the uniform now. Well, yeah, she and Shion are identical, but somehow it feels like it would be a very different thing.
“Let’s just go inside,” he mutters. He’s definitely blushing.
-
There’s usually someone outside the front door of Angel Mort, to make sure no one comes in without a booking. There’s nobody there right now.
“Do we just go in?” Keiichi asks.
Mion shoves the door open. “Not like my uncle’s gonna kick me out.”
There’s a cloakroom just inside the entrance. There are bags and jackets hanging up, but there’s nobody there to take theirs.
Normally, Keiichi would expect to hear chatter and clinking from the dining area, the sounds of people enjoying the food and the scenery. It’s silent in here.
“Is it closed?” he asks.
“Today?” Mion asks, frowning slightly. “Shouldn’t be. The door would’ve been locked, anyway.”
And they let Keiichi book for today, right?
There are marks on the floor, leading under the door to the dining area. Long scratches, weird dark stains.
Keiichi suddenly has a terrible feeling about this.
“Maybe we should go,” he says.
“Don’t chicken out. You already booked, right?” Mion opens the door to the dining area, and-
There’s so much blood.
Holy shit.
There’s so much blood, and so many bodies.
People lying across the tables, no sign of wounds, like there was some kind of fast-acting poison in the food. People on the floor in trails of blood, sprays of blood, so much blood it’s impossible to guess what they were attacked with.
Keiichi’s freaking out, he grabs for Mion’s hand. She squeezes his hand back, so tightly he feels the bones click against each other. It tells him she’s here with him. But it also tells him this is real.
“Shion,” she whispers. It’s trembling.
Fuck. Shion.
Did anyone survive this? There’s blood on the walls and everyone looks dead. He can’t stop shaking.
“Sh-” He clears his throat, but his shout still comes out too quiet, and it sounds like it’s in someone else’s voice. “Shion!”
There’s a quiet noise from the back of the restaurant, and he finally tears his eyes away from the bodies long enough to see there’s someone there. Someone sitting on a table, hunched up, her knees drawn up to her chest. Someone whose hair is so matted with blood that it’s hard to make out the original colour.
But it’s Shion.
She’s alive.
She’s laughing, uncontrollably, almost silently.
She’s holding a carving knife in her hand.
---
“You never get a second chance at a first date, you know,” Keiichi’s dad says, mock-solemnly.
“Shut up, Dad,” Keiichi says. “There’s enough pressure already.”
-
Keiichi parks up his bike and locks it. Is one lock going to be enough? Maybe bike theft isn’t so common outside cities, but it still feels like a risk, only securing one of the wheels. He should have brought more locks.
He can’t believe Mion agreed to go for a meal, just the two of them. Is this a date? Does she think it’s a date? He’s so nervous and itchy.
“So here we are.” Mion nudges him with his shoulder, and he almost jumps. “The sexy waitress restaurant my sister got you a discount to. What setting could be more romantic?”
Keiichi looks sharply over at her. “Who told you Shion gave me a discount?”
“She just wants an excuse to watch our date and laugh at us, you know.”
He hopes it’s as innocent as that. He doesn’t like thinking about the discount. It feels like a risk, somehow, accepting anything from Shion. Does she think he owes her something in return?
What is she planning to take from him?
“Who told you?” Keiichi asks, again. “Did Shion tell you?”
Mion frowns slightly. “I don’t really remember. I thought it was you. Does it matter?”
He never told her that; he never even said which restaurant they were going to. But Shion would know.
Is there any way he can know for certain which twin is standing next to him?
They met up in Hinamizawa before cycling out here. Mion was at the meeting place early, so they left before the arranged time. Would a different Mion have shown up if Keiichi had waited?
He looks up the steps to the entrance, to the person waiting to take their booking. There’s something reassuring about the sight, somehow. But it doesn’t help much with his nerves.
He scratches his neck.
He’s so nervous and itchy, itchy itchy itchy itchy. He’s so nervous he’s almost terrified.
---
“You never get a second chance at a first date, you know,” Keiichi’s dad says, mock-solemnly.
Keiichi frowns. It sounds like it makes sense, and he’s definitely nervous about his probably-technically-an-actual-date with Mion, but a part of him doesn’t entirely believe what his dad’s saying.
-
Mion’s clearly on the verge of laughing as they dismount their bikes. “You know, I suspected you were taking me to Angel Mort, but I still can’t believe you actually did it.”
“Shion’s gonna want to watch us and laugh,” Keiichi says, clicking the lock into place. “What kind of man would I be if I deprived her of that? This is all for her.”
“Sounds like I should leave you two alone together.”
“That’s the plan,” Keiichi says. “I just brought you here to tell you about my date with your sister.”
Mion coughs, flushes, looks away. Crap. Keiichi didn’t mean to imply this was a date. He’s been trying to maintain some kind of plausible deniability, for both of them.
“You don’t have to stay, y’know, if you’re not a fan of Angel Mort,” Keiichi says. “I won’t eat with Shion or anything. I’ll just have your share myself. More food for me.”
Mion looks back at him, folding her arms. “Oh, does Kei-chan think I’m going to back down from a challenge?”
Is this a challenge? Is this a game?
Keiichi feels a grin spreading over his face. Thinking of it that way makes it less intimidating, or at least intimidating in a different way. He doesn’t know how to date. But he knows how to compete against Mion. “I just don’t want to see you being a sore loser.”
“You said Shion’s gonna be watching us, right?” Mion grabs his hand and drags him up the steps, towards the person waiting to take their booking. “Let’s give her a show.”
-
“Oh, my darling Kei-chan, what do you think we should order?”
Keiichi stifles a laugh. Reaches across the table to stroke Mion’s hair. The tables are too far across for it not to be an awkward manoeuvre; he has to half-stand to do it. “Something as sweet as you, kitten.”
“You’ll have to choose for me.” Mion flutters her eyelashes. “Where would I be without my strong, decisive man?”
Keiichi grins. She’s definitely giving him too much power here. He scours the menu, looking for something she’ll hate. If he orders it for her, he knows she’ll force herself to eat it out of pride.
This is probably not appropriate date conduct.
Shion stops by their table to refill their water jug, even though it’s almost full. She smirks. “Going well?”
“It couldn’t be better,” Mion says, resting her chin dreamily on the back of her hands. “It’s always so tough to concentrate in class, looking at Kei-chan’s uniform and wondering what’s underneath it. I’m looking forward to solving the mystery tonight.”
Keiichi desperately struggles not to blush. If he blushes, he loses points. But he can feel the heat in his face, and Mion sends him a wicked grin and a wink.
Shion’s grin is equally evil. “I can’t wait to hear aaaaaall about it.”
Perhaps fortunately, she’s called away to another table. Keiichi hastily pours himself a glass of water. Shion’s stopped by to refill the jug unnecessarily three times now, and it’s going to overflow if he doesn’t do something about it.
“My mouth just gets so dry when I’m around you, my love,” he explains to Mion.
“Oh, well, you have to look after your mouth, sweetie,” Mion says. “I’m got big plans for that mouth.”
Keiichi takes a swift gulp of water, blushing harder. Damn it. He’s definitely losing.
Well, that just means he has to try harder to win.
He half-stands to lean across the table again. Gestures to Mion to lean across from her side.
He can see the quick calculation in her eyes. She could refuse to meet him. But that means she loses.
She doesn’t back down, of course; she never does. Keiichi’s throat tightens as she rises. This is really happening.
It’s just another game.
She traces his jawline with her hand. “Kei-chan,” she breathes.
He searches for something to call her, some ridiculous cutesy nickname. But somehow he just ends up swallowing and saying, “Mion.”
Her eyes widen slightly; she wasn’t expecting that. Maybe he can win this, after all.
He kisses Mion. He-
He’s kissing Mion. She’s here, she agreed when he asked her to come out for a meal with him, and now he’s kissing her, shivering like he has a fever.
He doesn’t know if he’s good, he doesn’t know how you’re supposed to do this. She pushes her hand into his hair - it feels like someone’s yanked a fishing line connected to his stomach - and he doesn’t know if that’s a calculated move, just part of their game.
The first person to break away loses.
Shion whoops and applauds from the other side of the restaurant, and they both jerk apart at the same time.
Keiichi tries to swallow. He can’t manage it.
Mion lets out a tiny, breathless laugh, her face as red as Keiichi’s must be by now. “Should we just... should we call this a draw?”
Mion never agrees to a draw. But Keiichi knows what she’s saying. If they end the contest here, they can sit down and have their date properly, without trying to embarrass and one-up each other.
Well, without constantly trying to do that, at least.
He nods. He doesn’t feel ready to attempt words yet.
She gives him another quick kiss before she sits down. Chaste, on the corner of his mouth. And this time it isn’t a competition.
Even if it gets reset, even if he doesn’t remember this, this happened.
He doesn’t know why he’s thinking that. Why wouldn’t he remember it?
But it happened. It happened. It feels important to tell himself that, somehow.
dereban. Higurashi's blend of the endearing and the horrific makes it such a fun canon to write for.
Title: Second Chances
Fandom: Higurashi: When They Cry
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Keiichi/Mion
Wordcount: 2,000
Summary: Dating your friend is hard as it is. Being trapped in a doomed time loop doesn't really make it any easier.
“You never get a second chance at a first date, you know,” Keiichi’s dad says, mock-solemnly.
“Shut up, Dad,” Keiichi says. “It’s not a date.”
-
“We’re here.” Keiichi parks up his bike, fishes the lock out of the basket. Once he’s secured it, he builds up the courage to look over at Mion.
Mion looks like she’s about to crack up laughing. “You’re taking me to Angel Mort?”
“I’m not taking you,” Keiichi says. “We’re just going to Angel Mort.”
“But you said you’re paying, right?”
She’s got her usual screwing-with-him smirk on, but she’s a little red in the face. Keiichi can’t think too much about that, or he’ll end up blushing too.
“Don’t get any weird ideas,” he says. “I’m just saying thanks for welcoming me into the village.”
“At Angel Mort,” Mion says. “At my uncle’s sexy waitress restaurant. Where you can stare at my sister in her sexy waitress uniform.”
It’s true that it probably wouldn’t be the perfect location for a date. If this were a date, which it isn’t. But it’s not like Keiichi knows a lot of restaurants in the area.
“Shion swung us a discount,” Keiichi says. “I thought you’d be happy. An old man like you? This is your natural habitat, isn’t it?”
“You brought me here to look at Shion?” Mion asks, raising her eyebrows. “I could just put on the uniform myself and stand in front of a mirror.”
Crap. Keiichi’s thinking about how Mion would look in the uniform now. Well, yeah, she and Shion are identical, but somehow it feels like it would be a very different thing.
“Let’s just go inside,” he mutters. He’s definitely blushing.
-
There’s usually someone outside the front door of Angel Mort, to make sure no one comes in without a booking. There’s nobody there right now.
“Do we just go in?” Keiichi asks.
Mion shoves the door open. “Not like my uncle’s gonna kick me out.”
There’s a cloakroom just inside the entrance. There are bags and jackets hanging up, but there’s nobody there to take theirs.
Normally, Keiichi would expect to hear chatter and clinking from the dining area, the sounds of people enjoying the food and the scenery. It’s silent in here.
“Is it closed?” he asks.
“Today?” Mion asks, frowning slightly. “Shouldn’t be. The door would’ve been locked, anyway.”
And they let Keiichi book for today, right?
There are marks on the floor, leading under the door to the dining area. Long scratches, weird dark stains.
Keiichi suddenly has a terrible feeling about this.
“Maybe we should go,” he says.
“Don’t chicken out. You already booked, right?” Mion opens the door to the dining area, and-
There’s so much blood.
Holy shit.
There’s so much blood, and so many bodies.
People lying across the tables, no sign of wounds, like there was some kind of fast-acting poison in the food. People on the floor in trails of blood, sprays of blood, so much blood it’s impossible to guess what they were attacked with.
Keiichi’s freaking out, he grabs for Mion’s hand. She squeezes his hand back, so tightly he feels the bones click against each other. It tells him she’s here with him. But it also tells him this is real.
“Shion,” she whispers. It’s trembling.
Fuck. Shion.
Did anyone survive this? There’s blood on the walls and everyone looks dead. He can’t stop shaking.
“Sh-” He clears his throat, but his shout still comes out too quiet, and it sounds like it’s in someone else’s voice. “Shion!”
There’s a quiet noise from the back of the restaurant, and he finally tears his eyes away from the bodies long enough to see there’s someone there. Someone sitting on a table, hunched up, her knees drawn up to her chest. Someone whose hair is so matted with blood that it’s hard to make out the original colour.
But it’s Shion.
She’s alive.
She’s laughing, uncontrollably, almost silently.
She’s holding a carving knife in her hand.
---
“You never get a second chance at a first date, you know,” Keiichi’s dad says, mock-solemnly.
“Shut up, Dad,” Keiichi says. “There’s enough pressure already.”
-
Keiichi parks up his bike and locks it. Is one lock going to be enough? Maybe bike theft isn’t so common outside cities, but it still feels like a risk, only securing one of the wheels. He should have brought more locks.
He can’t believe Mion agreed to go for a meal, just the two of them. Is this a date? Does she think it’s a date? He’s so nervous and itchy.
“So here we are.” Mion nudges him with his shoulder, and he almost jumps. “The sexy waitress restaurant my sister got you a discount to. What setting could be more romantic?”
Keiichi looks sharply over at her. “Who told you Shion gave me a discount?”
“She just wants an excuse to watch our date and laugh at us, you know.”
He hopes it’s as innocent as that. He doesn’t like thinking about the discount. It feels like a risk, somehow, accepting anything from Shion. Does she think he owes her something in return?
What is she planning to take from him?
“Who told you?” Keiichi asks, again. “Did Shion tell you?”
Mion frowns slightly. “I don’t really remember. I thought it was you. Does it matter?”
He never told her that; he never even said which restaurant they were going to. But Shion would know.
Is there any way he can know for certain which twin is standing next to him?
They met up in Hinamizawa before cycling out here. Mion was at the meeting place early, so they left before the arranged time. Would a different Mion have shown up if Keiichi had waited?
He looks up the steps to the entrance, to the person waiting to take their booking. There’s something reassuring about the sight, somehow. But it doesn’t help much with his nerves.
He scratches his neck.
He’s so nervous and itchy, itchy itchy itchy itchy. He’s so nervous he’s almost terrified.
---
“You never get a second chance at a first date, you know,” Keiichi’s dad says, mock-solemnly.
Keiichi frowns. It sounds like it makes sense, and he’s definitely nervous about his probably-technically-an-actual-date with Mion, but a part of him doesn’t entirely believe what his dad’s saying.
-
Mion’s clearly on the verge of laughing as they dismount their bikes. “You know, I suspected you were taking me to Angel Mort, but I still can’t believe you actually did it.”
“Shion’s gonna want to watch us and laugh,” Keiichi says, clicking the lock into place. “What kind of man would I be if I deprived her of that? This is all for her.”
“Sounds like I should leave you two alone together.”
“That’s the plan,” Keiichi says. “I just brought you here to tell you about my date with your sister.”
Mion coughs, flushes, looks away. Crap. Keiichi didn’t mean to imply this was a date. He’s been trying to maintain some kind of plausible deniability, for both of them.
“You don’t have to stay, y’know, if you’re not a fan of Angel Mort,” Keiichi says. “I won’t eat with Shion or anything. I’ll just have your share myself. More food for me.”
Mion looks back at him, folding her arms. “Oh, does Kei-chan think I’m going to back down from a challenge?”
Is this a challenge? Is this a game?
Keiichi feels a grin spreading over his face. Thinking of it that way makes it less intimidating, or at least intimidating in a different way. He doesn’t know how to date. But he knows how to compete against Mion. “I just don’t want to see you being a sore loser.”
“You said Shion’s gonna be watching us, right?” Mion grabs his hand and drags him up the steps, towards the person waiting to take their booking. “Let’s give her a show.”
-
“Oh, my darling Kei-chan, what do you think we should order?”
Keiichi stifles a laugh. Reaches across the table to stroke Mion’s hair. The tables are too far across for it not to be an awkward manoeuvre; he has to half-stand to do it. “Something as sweet as you, kitten.”
“You’ll have to choose for me.” Mion flutters her eyelashes. “Where would I be without my strong, decisive man?”
Keiichi grins. She’s definitely giving him too much power here. He scours the menu, looking for something she’ll hate. If he orders it for her, he knows she’ll force herself to eat it out of pride.
This is probably not appropriate date conduct.
Shion stops by their table to refill their water jug, even though it’s almost full. She smirks. “Going well?”
“It couldn’t be better,” Mion says, resting her chin dreamily on the back of her hands. “It’s always so tough to concentrate in class, looking at Kei-chan’s uniform and wondering what’s underneath it. I’m looking forward to solving the mystery tonight.”
Keiichi desperately struggles not to blush. If he blushes, he loses points. But he can feel the heat in his face, and Mion sends him a wicked grin and a wink.
Shion’s grin is equally evil. “I can’t wait to hear aaaaaall about it.”
Perhaps fortunately, she’s called away to another table. Keiichi hastily pours himself a glass of water. Shion’s stopped by to refill the jug unnecessarily three times now, and it’s going to overflow if he doesn’t do something about it.
“My mouth just gets so dry when I’m around you, my love,” he explains to Mion.
“Oh, well, you have to look after your mouth, sweetie,” Mion says. “I’m got big plans for that mouth.”
Keiichi takes a swift gulp of water, blushing harder. Damn it. He’s definitely losing.
Well, that just means he has to try harder to win.
He half-stands to lean across the table again. Gestures to Mion to lean across from her side.
He can see the quick calculation in her eyes. She could refuse to meet him. But that means she loses.
She doesn’t back down, of course; she never does. Keiichi’s throat tightens as she rises. This is really happening.
It’s just another game.
She traces his jawline with her hand. “Kei-chan,” she breathes.
He searches for something to call her, some ridiculous cutesy nickname. But somehow he just ends up swallowing and saying, “Mion.”
Her eyes widen slightly; she wasn’t expecting that. Maybe he can win this, after all.
He kisses Mion. He-
He’s kissing Mion. She’s here, she agreed when he asked her to come out for a meal with him, and now he’s kissing her, shivering like he has a fever.
He doesn’t know if he’s good, he doesn’t know how you’re supposed to do this. She pushes her hand into his hair - it feels like someone’s yanked a fishing line connected to his stomach - and he doesn’t know if that’s a calculated move, just part of their game.
The first person to break away loses.
Shion whoops and applauds from the other side of the restaurant, and they both jerk apart at the same time.
Keiichi tries to swallow. He can’t manage it.
Mion lets out a tiny, breathless laugh, her face as red as Keiichi’s must be by now. “Should we just... should we call this a draw?”
Mion never agrees to a draw. But Keiichi knows what she’s saying. If they end the contest here, they can sit down and have their date properly, without trying to embarrass and one-up each other.
Well, without constantly trying to do that, at least.
He nods. He doesn’t feel ready to attempt words yet.
She gives him another quick kiss before she sits down. Chaste, on the corner of his mouth. And this time it isn’t a competition.
Even if it gets reset, even if he doesn’t remember this, this happened.
He doesn’t know why he’s thinking that. Why wouldn’t he remember it?
But it happened. It happened. It feels important to tell himself that, somehow.