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Twenty years ago, the Kambe Residence.
2nd of February, 2001.
1345 hours.
Daisuke Kambe had never liked his birthday, and today was no different, it seemed, as he struggled to open his eyes. Sighing, he lifted a hand to rub them, before opening them to notice that...
He was… non-corporeal?
Because he was pretty sure he shouldn’t be able to see through his own hand.
He bolted out of bed and stood in front of his full-length mirror in shock.
He looked like he’d been cut out of a photoshop layer and had the transparency turned down; he had a visible shape… but he was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be able to see -through- yourself, to see the floor beneath. Or the room behind him.
This -was- the Kambe residence… right? He didn’t die overnight… did he?
He glanced over at the large bed he had apparently been sleeping in; there was no body lying there, motionless. So, he wasn’t dead, which was a relief.
But what was going on?
“Mum! Dad!”
Daisuke flinched at the sound, before being hit with a wave of recognition.
That was his voice.
Okay… this was strange. What was going on?
He walked over to the source of the voice, and his heart clenched at the vision before his eyes.
A much younger Daisuke was sitting in front of his parents, both of whom were looking at him fondly, as he looked at the box in front of him with glee.
It was his 8th birthday.
Twenty years ago.
The year everything would change… but before any of them knew it.
Or at least, to what extent things would change, anyway.
Even then, there was tension between his parents, and Daisuke still remembered overhearing them argue when they thought he’d gone to sleep at night, and lying awake in his too-large bed, hoping they would sort things out...
But for that day, they had put it aside and had played the part of the doting parents he missed and loved.
He kept walking forwards, unaware of the fact he was trying to grab hold of his mother’s arm-
Until his fingers slipped right through her.
Right. The whole non-corporeal thing.
It was probably a good thing that he couldn’t touch her; after all, he was sure she’d be freaked out by the vision of him as a 27 - soon to be 28 - year old man, especially since…
She never got to see him grow up.
And he… never truly got to say goodbye.
The thought pained him, but he bit his lip and stepped back to look at his younger self.
How innocent I was… how much I didn’t know...
“Can I open it now? Can I? Can I? ”
The small 8-year-old child he had been was sitting in front of a gigantic box that almost hid him from view, while he glanced from side to side for his parents’ approval. He saw Sayuri nod and smile while Shigemaru ruffled his hair, and saw his small hands ripping through the wrapping paper with all the enthusiasm of an overeager puppy.
He watched his eyes widening at the gift, his smile broadening, the sheer excitement on his face as the paper was torn away and revealed…
An extremely fancy ride-on convertible, that was a smaller version of the Kambe family’s sportscar; or well, one of them, anyway.
Daisuke couldn’t help but smile at his younger self as he started tearing into the box, too impatient to wait for his parents to open the box neatly, and chuckled when Sayuri ended up holding him back while Shigemaru freed the car from its cardboard prison. Daisuke pouted, crossing his arms, while Sayuri held him back by the shoulders.
“Dai-chan, you know Dad is just freeing the car from the box for you; you can wait a minute or two while he does that, right?”
He felt a pang of sorrow as he listened to her soothing voice; even now, he still missed her and how she would always know the right thing to say, how she would always be there for him. He saw her wrap her arms around his small frame, and his own arms mirrored the movement subconsciously, trying to comfort himself - but it wasn’t the same, and it never would be.
He couldn’t imitate her warmth, no matter how hard he tried.
Shigemaru finished dealing with the box, and stood off to the side, flourishing with his arm as the cardboard fell down to reveal the car at last.
Daisuke watched his younger self run out of his mother’s arms, throw open the door of the small car, and jump in, already driving it out towards the back garden.
“This is the best present ever!” he shouted, as he drove in tight circles around a tree, “You guys are the best!”
Shigemaru laughed bashfully, while Sayuri yelled out a warning; “Be careful, Dai-chan!”
“I will mum, don’t worry!”
Daisuke knew the car would eventually end up ‘totalled’ when he accidentally drove it into the side of the Third Laboratory’s ridiculously thick walls two days from now, and he would be banned from driving again until he was of age…
But that was then, and this was now; and his younger self clearly had no idea, as he drove around the garden recklessly, almost driving into the water fountain and running Hattori down while he was at it.
Shigemaru shook his head at his son’s recklessness, while Sayuri looked on fondly. “He’s really growing up…” she said, wistfully.
Daisuke smiled, sadly.
If only she knew how fast he would have to grow up once they were gone...
---
Seventeen years ago, the Kambe Residence.
2nd of February, 2004.
Another year, another birthday; and Daisuke found himself in a slightly different version of the Kambe Residence. Daisuke woke up again - was the previous birthday he’d remembered just a dream? A memory?
Looking at his hands again, he was clearly not see-through this time… but…
His hands were much smaller than they should be.
So I guess this is still the past then…
He glanced over at the wall, trying to find a timepiece, and finally managing to find one on the ceiling - a digital clock was projected there, just barely bright enough to see, a familiar logo next to it on the side.
1123. 2/2/2004.
Ah… so it was when he was 11.
“Daisuke-kun.”
Daisuke felt himself flinch; his grandmother had clearly come to wake him up.
Gone was the warmth and excitement of his 8th birthday; too much had happened since then, and he was well aware that he couldn’t expect the warmth that he had gotten used to from her.
He still remembered the day she had told him about his parents, he still remembered the exact words she used; that they were “no longer of this world”.
He remembered running away, tears streaming down his face, a strangled cry leaving his throat.
He remembered no one coming after him, no one offering any words of comfort, or any warmth at all.
And he remembered realising that he was terribly, terribly alone.
“Daisuke-kun?”
He shook his head to clear it of these memories and sighed.
Another year, without his parents.
Another year, filling the expectations of the Kambe’s only son and future heir.
At least she hadn’t opened the door and stood right next to him while he was still in bed; he remembered she had done that for a while after his parents were gone.
Maybe she thought it would be comforting. Maybe that was the only way she knew of showing him that she was there for him.
But all it showed him was that she was watching him - like a hawk watches its prey.
Shuddering, he pulled himself out of bed and quickly changed into more appropriate clothes, before opening the door to face her.
“At last, you’re awake, Daisuke-kun.”
Her voice held contempt for his tardiness, for his slovenly nature, for the fact that he hadn’t woken up early enough for her standards; but she skipped the usual lecture on his “horrible habits, definitely not befitting a young man of his status”, and he assumed it was because it was his birthday.
A day which had ceased to become one of true celebration and had turned into one of pure obligation as soon as he had turned 9 years old.
He straightened and bowed in her direction.
“Good morning, oba-san.”
His voice was emotionless, cold, monotonal. Almost robotic.
Almost like something deep inside him had died when he was informed that his parents were no longer in his life; and in a way, it had.
The childlike innocence he once had, had already begun to crack due to the fissures in Sayuri and Shigemaru’s relationship - but after they were gone… there was nothing left for Daisuke to hold onto.
He saw his grandmother shake her head, but she continued to hold back other biting comments, at least for today.
“We should go downstairs and welcome our guests… shouldn’t we?”
Daisuke flinched internally but made sure nothing showed on his face; after all, his grandmother had always taught him that showing emotion showed weakness.
And so, he had learnt control; to school his features into an emotionless mask, to hide the things he truly felt away from the world.
“Yes, oba-san.”
He felt as cold as his voice sounded, but it had nothing to do with the weather or the temperature; he had always felt cold inside, ever since it had happened.
And it didn’t help that he was now being faced with the prospect of having to socialise with people who barely knew him, who didn’t care to know him, that had come for one single purpose.
Sure, the party was meant to celebrate his birthday…
But if it was up to him, he would definitely not be putting any of these old people on the invite list.
Kikuko had invited people who weren’t family… but instead, business partners.
The event was more for business - and Daisuke was being taught that business was all about image.
So his grandmother would put on the image of a caring old lady, doting on her only grandson, taking care of him when everyone else was looking…
But Daisuke knew what awaited him behind closed doors.
And he knew the part he had to play for this so-called birthday party, that was apparently for him.
Smile for the photo op when they hand you some ridiculously expensive present you don’t even have a use for because you’re literally 11 years old.
Say thank you to the president, CEO, or other distant family members you never usually see, for their excellent taste in presents - even when you secretly want to tell them they’re clearly stupid for giving such a thing to an 11-year-old child.
Try not to flinch and resist the urge to run when Kikuko puts her arms around you for a hug that looks much warmer than it actually is, and try not to tremble in fear as she whispers “Happy birthday, Daisuke” into your ear.
Smile and pretend to be amazed by the gigantic birthday cake they drag out from the kitchen at precisely 7 pm, without even bothering to blow out the candles - because there’s no way you could reach the top of that cake anyway when it is literally two metres tall.
(Taller than you’ll ever be - but you don’t know that yet.)
Try not to flinch again, when Kikuko places an arm around your shoulder as they all sing “Happy Birthday”, a large proportion of the crowd already somewhat drunk, and slurring their words.
Pretend this is fine. Pretend this is normal. Pretend you don’t mind at all.
All of it goes past in a blur, and by the time it was almost midnight again, he was finally back in his room.
Exhausted, he fell onto the bed, and curled up into a ball.
Happy 11th birthday to me , he thought.
“Happy” 11th birthday.
To me.
---
Twelve years ago, the Kambe Residence.
2nd of February, 2009.
Daisuke jolted awake again, truly feeling like he was trapped in some kind of awful Groundhog Day situation, but within his own past.
What had he done to deserve this?
And what year was it this time?
“Daisuke-sama?”
He jumped at the familiar voice; but he knew by now that this couldn’t be the present day.
Especially since… Suzue didn’t sound that young anymore.
He glanced up, knowing by now that there should be a HEUSC-branded LED illumination on the ceiling.
0815. 2/2/2009.
Ah.
This time, it was his 16th birthday - the year Suzue had come to join their household after her own parents had tragically passed away in a car accident a month ago.
Suzue adapted to their household surprisingly well - but it probably helped that Kikuko tended to leave her alone, while she would always be bothering Daisuke and calling him out on various things.
However… Suzue had managed to get Kikuko to loosen up on him - and that was more than enough reason for him to warm up to her.
After all - he was sure that the only reason they weren’t having a ‘birthday party’ was at least partially due to her, and for that alone, he was incredibly thankful.
Even if his demeanour meant it was hard for most people to see it.
“Daisuke-sama...?”
He rolled out of bed again, slipping on a pair of navy slippers that matched his pyjamas, and opened the door to see Suzue smiling at him.
“You’re finally awake! Come downstairs!”
Daisuke raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so excited?”
Suzue sighed. “Why wouldn’t I be, Daisuke-sama? It’s-”
“It’s my birthday. I know.” he finished for her.
“Exactly! So hurry up!”
She pushed him forwards, and he sighed.
Kikuko had stopped the birthday parties this year, saying that she needed to conserve money from here on out.
Daisuke didn’t mind at all; he had been looking forward to spending a much quieter birthday alone, preferably far away from his grandmother, from business, and from the stupid expectations of being the Kambe heir.
But Suzue clearly had other plans.
Plans which would soon become evident, as he walked down the stairs to the dining room, only to be faced with…
A ridiculous breakfast banquet that made him raise his eyebrows.
“Suzue…”
The slightly younger woman looked bashful, but also defended herself.
“You only turn 16 once, Daisuke-sama! Shouldn’t we be celebrating?”
He sighed; while he was grateful that she was probably part of the reason why Kikuko had ceased to throw ridiculously extravagant parties for his birthday, he also didn’t desire… all of this.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, and he loved her for trying her best to make him feel special - especially when no one else had, for so many years.
But looking at the two of them, and looking at the ridiculous set up on the table only made him feel more lonely, not less.
“It’s too much for us, Suzue.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Sure, but it’s not like any of it will go to waste! The kitchen staff will feast on whatever is leftover, and-”
He held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
“Okay, okay. Let’s just eat.”
She smiled at him and started loading up her plate. He gingerly selected a few items - he’d never had a large appetite to begin with, and he always lost his appetite on his birthday.
But he appreciated the effort she had gone to; especially as it seemed like she had asked the chefs and kitchen staff to prepare some of his favourites, if not all of them.
The gesture made him smile; it reminded him of when his mother would always cook him one of his favourites for every meal on his birthday.
And for the first time in a long while, Daisuke felt an ember of warmth.
Maybe he had finally found someone else he could trust.
“How would you like to spend the rest of the day, Daisuke-sama?”
He cringed at the honorific suffix she insisted on using and wondered if it was his grandmother’s doing.
He couldn’t imagine that she would call him that of her own free will, but it seemed like exactly the kind of thing Kikuko would tell Suzue to do.
Not necessarily to make him uncomfortable, but to remind Suzue of her place.
She was a woman.
His cousin.
Beneath him.
He was the heir to the Kambe Conglomerate; she was merely a relative - and she was younger than him.
Even if Kikuko had made a tidy profit from absorbing the companies of Suzue’s parents into the conglomerate after their deaths.
But no one needed to know about that.
“Do you have to call me that?”
Suzue frowned. “Daisuke-”
He cut her off before she could say it again. “Exactly. Just call me Daisuke.”
Suzue looked pointedly at various points in the room before she responded.
“I can’t. ”
Daisuke froze, understanding the implications of Suzue’s actions immediately.
His parents had once worked on the AI that currently served as the Kambe’s digital butler and virtual assistant - HEUSC. A heuristic scaler, that also was intelligent enough to take on most commands.
And with an unlimited balance in its control, as the Kambes would have access to - what HEUSC was able to do was almost similarly unlimited.
Kikuko had tapped on Suzue’s interest in technology and devices, and despite her young age, had encouraged her to develop it.
And while Daisuke had been blissfully unaware before - he was now all too aware of the fact that Kikuko had eyes everywhere, thanks to Suzue.
And that was exactly what she was talking about.
Shit.
Daisuke sighed, as he felt another chain around his neck, like a noose tightening around his throat, ever since his parents had left this world.
He hoped that this wouldn’t come between them, that they could still be friends… but he wasn’t sure that it would be possible.
Not when she was forced to use honorifics like that - not when she couldn’t call him like family instead of fucking royalty.
“I’m sorry, Daisuke-”
“It’s fine, Suzue.”
And it would have to be; because that was how they would have to be.
He would learn to tune out the last two syllables she would utter after his name, and she would come to say the whole phrase so naturally, that she sometimes thought his full name was actually Kambe Daisuke-sama.
They would get used to it - and at the same time, they never would.
“Daisuke… sama…?”
“I want to be alone.”
And with that, he walked up to his room, and slammed the door shut.
He knew Kikuko would see this footage too, and he knew she would tell him off later.
She would tell him off for causing a scene, for being so rude to his cousin when all she’d been was polite and kind, for a myriad of things.
But all he could think of was that she had literally cut him off from the one other person he had thought he could trust; that she had made it so that they could never be close, never have that bond he craved from a family member.
And if this was what his birthdays were always going to be like, he was starting to think they weren’t worth the trouble at all.
He was about to lie down on his bed, when he spotted a small box on his bedside table, along with a handwritten note.
To my grandson on his birthday.
You’re an adult now - you should have this.
He frowned - the box hadn’t been there when he woke up, he was sure of it.
So when had she found the time to put it there? Had she gotten Hattori to slip in while he was at breakfast?
He gingerly opened the box, worried about what it might hold - but too curious to let it sit there, unopened.
Immediately, a small bug-like robot flew out of it and landed on his earlobe. He felt a sharp stinging sensation, followed by a cool spray, before it flew away again.
What the fuck?
But he wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
A robotic voice could be heard, right next to his ear.
Hello, Daisuke-sama. My name is HEUSC - I’m your AI ‘butler’.
And suddenly, Daisuke wanted to scream.
It wasn’t enough for him to be under surveillance all the time? She wanted him to wear this?
He knew he could take the earring off whenever he wanted - but he could tell that it came with rules.
Everything in his life these days, always came with rules.
A small note fluttered out of the box.
You will wear this, except when you go to sleep. Hold your hand to the earring when you want to activate HEUSC. Figure out how to use it.
You now have access to the Kambe fortune.
Be careful how you spend it.
Kikuko.
Daisuke buried his head in his hands, feeling the weight of what he was being asked to do settle on him.
He had access to the Kambe fortune. He had access to unlimited wealth.
Be careful how you spend it.
The words echoed in his mind, an unspoken reminder of his grandmother's hold on the family business; on him.
He was only sixteen, only a teenager.
And already, she was shoving him into this world, even deeper than he already was.
He had never wanted this; he had never expected he would be getting this so soon.
And yet, he was already being shackled to more responsibility than he was ready to bear.
He lifted his hand to the earring as her letter had mentioned, and the robotic voice filled his ear again.
Hello, Daisuke-sama. Would you like to run through the tutorial?
He ignored the AI’s prompt for now - he had a simple command that would probably be better done this way, so Suzue would be aware of what was happening without him having to explain too much.
“Send a message to Suzue. Tell her… I’m sorry. And I don’t want to celebrate birthdays anymore.”
Understood. Balance: UNLIMITED.
He flicked open his phone and found that HEUSC had sent Suzue a message. Underneath, it said Sent via HEUSC.
And he knew that she would understand - hopefully.
Sighing, he fell back onto the bed, and sincerely regretted waking up that morning.
But seeing as he was expected to wear this stupid thing all the time, he decided to run through the tutorial - especially since he had nothing better to do, and it would distract him from the fact that this was another shitty birthday that he had tried to forget.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
Happy fucking ‘sweet sixteen.’
---
Seven years ago, Oxford University.
Trinity College, Dorm Room #1.
2nd of February, 2014.
“Hey, Kambe.”
Daisuke groaned, feeling shittier than all the other times he’d had to wake up during this… dream, nightmare, or whatever the hell it was.
Which already gave him the feeling that it was probably during his university days.
“Do we have to break down your bloody door, or are you gonna open it for us?”
Yep, this was definitely England - and that was definitely his group of ‘friends’.
He gingerly sat up from the tiny bed in his ridiculously expensive dorm room in Trinity College, and peeled himself off it. The room spun a little, and he winced at how terrible he felt - because this wasn’t just mental, this was physical.
And then he saw the bottles of alcohol in the corner, along with the smell of pot hitting his nose, and he knew this was not going to be a fun time.
Padding over to the door, he pulled it open.
“About time!”
He sighed. “What do you want, Derrick.”
Derrick was an exchange student from America. His family was well-connected; but honestly, you would have to be if you were rooming at Trinity College. Every room cost a pretty penny, and Daisuke hated to admit that even though the room was small and not fantastic - by university standards, it was huge.
Which was exactly why Trinity College was also known for room parties - and having the laxest ‘security’, if you could call it that.
Every transgression was overlooked - which was the only reason Daisuke had been able to get away with… well.
“You know what I want, Kambe.”
Daisuke rolled his eyes and walked over to his wardrobe, pulling out a bottle of alcohol from a hidden corner near the back. He didn’t bother reading the label; it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to replace it, anyway, and he was sure his college ‘buddies’ would be satisfied with the offering.
Handing the bottle over, he leant against his door, hoping they would leave without requesting anything else - hoping that they would leave him alone.
But of course, it was never that easy.
“And… Some of that …”
Daisuke sighed, and reached into the pocket of his jeans, fishing out a small plastic bag with the ‘herbs’, as they sometimes called it if any hall monitors were around. He tossed it in Derrick’s direction and began to close the door.
“Thanks a million, Kambe!”, he heard Derrick quip cheerfully, as the door closed in his face.
Finally, he was alone again.
And hopefully, with the alcohol and drugs he had thrown to his ‘friend’, they would leave him alone for the rest of the day.
At least none of them knew it was his birthday today; he’d made that mistake in first year, when he was still over at Brasenose College.
While any of his college dorm “buddies” would be up for a party - especially a party when their best provider of drugs and booze was hosting - he knew first-hand that it wasn’t something he wanted to deal with.
Sure, the drug haze would be a pleasant enough distraction in and of itself, and he wasn’t opposed to having company - even if he was fully aware they weren’t truly there for him, and just there to take advantage of his stash.
But that year at Brasenose had been a nightmare, even by his standards, as he’d woken up the following morning with an empty room, a throbbing headache, and his room completely ransacked .
So Daisuke had moved to Trinity College at the end of that semester, severed his ties with everyone from Brasenose, and tried to turn a new leaf.
But somehow, everyone at Trinity knew he was the go-to guy for a whole bunch of illicit substances.
He wasn’t proud of it - but it got everyone to leave him alone, and it meant he didn’t have to deal with anyone trying to take advantage of him.
After all - the Kambe Conglomerate had its fingers in most of their families pies, and unlike Brasenose College, where there were still a few kids who thought they were better than him or thought he needed to “go back to Asia” (which only showed their own stupidity, because Asia isn’t a country and much too large to be a singular destination) - Daisuke could technically screw them all over if he wanted to.
He didn’t, because he didn’t care enough about any of them to do so.
But the potential threat of it kept them all in check, and he was sure providing most of the dorm with free booze and drugs didn’t hurt.
He was unbothered, and for the most part, left alone.
But it was a horrifically lonely way to live.
The only upside of it all was that he was away from Japan; away from the choking leash of his grandmother and her hawk-like eyes, her insistence on propriety, and away from the earring he had been forced to wear every day he was in her house.
But that only meant he had too much time on his hands to think about everything else.
Now that he was alone, now that he didn’t have any responsibilities on his plate besides graduating with first-class honours, eventually…
The grief crept back in.
He supposed it made sense; for years, he’d run away from it, whether it was by his own choice or because his grandmother had given him no time to recover, before thrusting him into the expectations that shouldn’t have been his to bear, at least not at his young age - and definitely without the help of a parent or guardian.
He had never truly grieved his loss because he hadn’t had the time; and while he’d spent a lot of time feeling sorry for himself, he’d never truly thought about the sense of loss.
The loss of a mother that cared for him, that shielded him from his family’s overbearing pressures and allowed him to have some semblance of a ‘normal’ childhood during his younger years.
The loss of a father that had never been extremely present and was clearly obsessed with his research, but that still loved him in his own way, making sure he took time off for his son’s birthday, piano recitals, and other events whenever possible.
The loss of a cohesive family unit, the loss of the two people protecting him from having to deal directly with their overbearing grandmother and family matriarch - the loss of his childhood innocence.
The loss of his childhood in itself, gone too early, and taken too soon.
His peers often commented that he was cold, emotionless, and hard to connect to; and he wasn’t unaware of it.
But given his upbringing, his past, his losses - could you blame him?
His fingers tapped against his thigh, restlessly, and he craved the means to dull the pain, to escape from these thoughts - especially on his birthday.
With practised ease, he rolled a blunt without thinking about it, slipping the papers from their hidden place on his desk, tapping the weed into the cylinder he had created, rolling the ends shut, and grabbing a lighter from a nearby drawer.
His nose twitched at the smell, but he ignored it as he lifted it to his lips, and drew the smoke deep into his lungs.
He imagined tendrils of smoke coalescing there, settling in the nooks and crannies, before he finally exhaled the smoke out again. Repeating the motion until he felt the heaviness settle into his bones, and felt his eyes zoning out as he looked at his outstretched hand holding the blunt, following the smoke trail as it wafted up to the ceiling.
Soon, he would spend the day in a daze, occasionally getting up to grab a bag of chips from the drawer he kept full of snacks for exactly this reason, and occasionally stumbling to the bathroom. Cracking open bottles of water, and trying to avoid the booze - at least, while it was still daylight.
Later in the evening, he would pour himself a drink, still out of it, but aware enough to cry and taste the salt of his tears as he sipped it.
Another year, another birthday.
The glass tipped dangerously in his hand, so he downed the entire thing in one shot.
If only he knew that this was how he would spend so many birthdays from here on out…
But his eyes closed again, and he was falling-
---
1st of February, 2021.
Haru Katou’s apartment, 11:47 pm.
Daisuke woke up with a strangled gasp, feeling like he'd been drowning underwater and had just managed to break the surface. His heartbeat thudded in his chest, and he had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn’t still stuck in some horrible nightmare.
Reliving so many of his past birthdays - especially since he’d tried hard to forget them - had truly done a number on him, and he pinched his arm to make sure he was real. He looked at his hands, wriggled his toes, until finally, he seemed to be back to his 27, almost 28-year-old self.
Finally.
He sighed in relief, glad he didn’t have to relieve another past birthday; that he could finally leave the past behind, at least while he was awake.
He felt the soft breaths of another person nearby, of their warm arms around his waist, and froze, as they sleepily murmured his name; he must have woken them when he woke up.
Damnit.
“Dai…?”
He turned his head - to be faced with an extremely sleepy Haru Katou that was blinking sleep out of his eyes, and looking at him with concern.
Haru rubbed his eyes. “Why are you awake…?”
He quickly turned away again. “I… had a bad dream…”
The arms around his waist tightened, and Daisuke felt himself relax into that touch.
It hadn’t always been the case, and he remembered how he had flinched, frozen, and stiffened at his partner’s touch - even the most casual of touches, was enough to make Daisuke freeze, to make him want to run away.
But Haru had been patient; he hadn’t forced him to reciprocate, hadn’t forced him to accept them. He had pulled him over early on, and told him that if he ever made him uncomfortable, if he did anything to make him uncomfortable - that he would always stop if he let him know.
But Daisuke didn’t - because for the first time in his life, he wasn’t uncomfortable.
He just… simply, wasn’t used to it.
He never said that to his partner; but somehow, Haru seemed to understand, and the older man never took his reactions personally.
He just patiently waited for Daisuke to get used to it; and slowly, but surely, he did.
The first time Daisuke hesitantly brushed his hand against Haru’s, his heart thudding in his chest like it might explode, he was sure he was making a mistake - even though logically, he was aware that they were literally dating, and holding hands wasn’t a big deal.
But it was - for him.
Haru seemed to know that, but he didn’t draw any attention to it until Daisuke had successfully managed to start interlacing his fingers with Haru’s own - and only then, did Haru reciprocate, squeezing his hand.
Daisuke let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and Haru laughed.
Daisuke’s eyes drifted to the floor, a warm blush covering his cheeks in embarrassment. “H-hey, this is hard for me-”
Haru shushed him and ruffled his hair with his free hand. “I’m not laughing at you, you dingus.”
He remembered how Haru had looked at him fondly, with so much warmth that Daisuke felt himself smiling despite how embarrassed and small he felt.
“I’m just… happy you felt comfortable enough with me to initiate that. I know it’s hard for you; so it means a lot to me, you know?”
Daisuke had blushed and hidden his face in Haru’s shoulder, while Haru chuckled and squeezed his hand again.
From then on, Daisuke had slowly made progress - until they were at this point now, where he could comfortably lie in the older man’s arms, accepting the warmth and comfort of the gesture without feeling his flight-or-flight response activating, without the familiar undercurrent of fear and anxiety throbbing in his veins.
He had gone through so much, even in the past year alone.
He had figured out the mystery of his mother’s murder, discovered his father was actually still alive and found out that the true villain wasn’t Shigemaru after all; but instead, his goddamn grandmother and her right-hand man, Hattori.
But he hadn’t done it alone - he’d been helped (even if it was sometimes against his will) by Haru.
The stubborn, reckless, loyal, short-tempered and hard-working detective, who had refused to leave his side, even when he had pushed him away - and who had been the only one to continue believing in him when everyone else had doubts.
Daisuke smiled at the taupe-haired man holding onto him.
Haru smiled back; before leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“Hey. It’s midnight.”
Daisuke glanced up, to see the familiar LED illuminated clock that showed it was officially 00:00 hours; and now, officially midnight.
Haru pulled Daisuke closer, as he whispered again; “Happy birthday, Daisuke Kambe.”
For the first time in a long time, Daisuke didn’t dread his birthday.
And as he fell asleep again in Haru’s arms, he smiled at the thought of getting to spend it with his favourite person when he woke up - because that was the best gift of all.