~~~~~~~

Going up the stairs is strangely anti-climatic. The steps don't split open beneath their feet, the banister doesn't fall apart, the walls don't close in on them, nothing really happens.

He's not sure if Sho and Aiba got out safely, because everything behind them is quiet and dark almost as if swathed in a vacuum that just absorbs sound and light. He hopes they've gotten out.

He really hopes they've gotten out and are safe. He needs them to be safe.

In front of him, Matsumoto is walking very cautiously upwards, his breath just as loud as Nino feels his own is.

The house has gone completely silent.

"That's not necessarily a good thing," Matsumoto had whispered under his breath when Nino had pointed it out, and all Nino could do in response was to curl his fingers tighter around the single flashlight they had.

At the top of the stairs, Matsumoto pauses to look back at Nino, nodding, and then walking out into the hallway. The house is silent. The flames and fire that had at first been licking the walls and their heels, then frozen, are now completely gone, leaving scorch marks on the walls, that are shaped very oddly.

"Have you seen this?" Nino asks, gingerly transferring the flashlight to his aching hand and touching the marks warily with the fingers of his good hand. The only way it resembles scorch marks is that it's burnt - the soot and burnt wallpaper leave something that looks like symbols, but Nino doesn't know what they mean.

Matsumoto hesitates then nods sharply, taking the flashlight from Nino. "Leader's protective sigils," he says. He traces the edge of one and continues, "this was passed down to him from his mother, and this," he points to another, "is his own."

Nino nods; it doesn't make any more sense to him now than it did before, but it's not the weirdest, most impossible, most improbable thing happening tonight. Everything here has robbed him of his disbelief even though he doesn't know what to believe anymore. He doesn't know what is happening or what could be happening.

"I guess you could say it's sort of Arcane," Matsumoto explains softly and finally removes his hand from the marks of soot. The flashlight in his other hand never wavers. "But it's not like he's some kind of occultist or anything. I don't know. It works."

Nino would like to say that everything makes sense now, but the only thing he knows is that Ohno seems like a big deal with all of this.

"But it, whatever the fuck it was, knocked him over like it was nothing," Nino says, because he still sees it whenever he closes his eyes: Ohno just falling over, laying flat as they ran from him.

"I'm not sure what happened," Matsumoto admits and walks further down the hallway and towards their initial starting point, "but I really hope he didn't do anything stupid."

Which, to Nino's ears, sounds dangerously like Matsumoto is pretty sure Ohno did something stupid. In this case, Nino doesn't even know what exactly qualifies as stupid but he's willing to bet that the two of them walking further back into this hell house definitely counts as stupid.

"Are you scared?" He asks, shivering. It's starting to set in in this eerie quiet; the fear, the unsettling, unnatural sense of wrong. The lack of flames has left a chill in the air, and his breath is once again coming out in bursts of white in front of his mouth.

Matsumoto nods sharply, once, then glances back at Nino before aiming the flashlight back at the spot where they left Ohno.

He's not there.

It's both a relief and a point of terror. Where is he then?

"Let's go," Matsumoto says and slowly walks up to the place Nino last saw Ohno alive, and he shivers. He's seriously freezing now, not just out of fright, he's aware of that.

"Stop," Matsumoto suddenly orders. He's looking down at his feet, apparently frozen midstep. Nino looks down.

More sigils. He remembers Ohno dropping into a crouch as they left him; probably to start writing.

"He attempted to hold it here," Matsumoto explains, following a line with the flashlight, then looks up at Nino as if to say something, when his eyes go over Nino's shoulder and his mouth drops open as if to -

"He almost succeeded," a voice that isn't a voice says directly behind him, and Nino startles sharply. Matsumoto drops the flashlight while catching him and steadying him, and he cries out when Matsumoto accidentally grabs his left wrist, and in the darkness, something is watching them.

"Stay away," Matsumoto warns. He's holding on to Nino's arm very tightly, a counter point of pain to his throbbing wrist. "Stay the hell away from us."

It has a shape, Nino realizes as it steps closer to them, the weird clonk, the dull limping sound - it's shaped vaguely in the form of a person, but it seems like a mockery somehow, and its legs are dragged, as if it doesn't quite know how legs and feet are supposed to be working. There's no face as far as Nino can see, only a vague notion of something that has once been a face, only vague defining features.

"He did put up a marvellous fight," the thing concedes. "He gets cleverer and stronger every time. Well. Got, I should say."

Nino feels something cold take hold of his spine as his stomach drops. "Is he dead?"

"I should damn well hope so, he's always been annoyingly resilient," the thing says and shrugs in a weird, odd, wrong way, as if it's just wearing the body and not owning it. Nino tastes bile at the back of his throat as if fright has taken secondary priority.

"If you have killed him, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you're sent straight back to hell," Matsumoto hisses, his hold on Nino bordering on painful, but it hardly registers.

"Humans," the shape says as if it can't believe this situation. "I did him a favour, you'll see. This constant fight was draining him, you realize? I just... set him free, so to speak. It was much better for him in the long run, you see? He's been destined to fail his entire life."

Nino isn't sure he's ever felt anger as red hot as the one thrumming just under his skin now. Matsumoto's nails are digging into his skin, a warning, but Nino doesn't care, god, he just doesn't care. He doesn't know Ohno, he really doesn't, but the thought of those kind eyes and sweet smile not being aimed at Nino ever again is more than what he can bear. He never even got to ask Ohno if there could be something to them, if there ever was the slightest possibility.

Now he'll never know.

"How sweet," the thing says, sounding as if it's genuinely in wonder, "to think that someone actually cared about him. He was vermin, I hope you realize that."

Matsumoto makes a noise that could be a hiss, a snarl, something that doesn't sound like it can possibly contain the multitudes he's surely experiencing right now. Nino feels his feet move, slowly, and realizes that Matsumoto is moving them backwards, slow, slow, slow.

"He was persistent, clever, annoyingly smart vermin, but nothing but vermin, after all," the thing continues, limping slowly closer, clonk, drag, clonk, drag.

"He was better than you," Matsumoto snarls back. "He was better at everything."

"Funny how his dead body kind of says otherwise," the thing says, twisting the sick mockery of a face into a parody of a mocking smirk. It looks grotesque. Nino feels wretched and ill. "And now it's your turn. Shame he had to drag you down with him, but I'm sure he'll appreciate it when you join him in death."

"Ninomiya," Matsumoto breathes into his ear, tugging at his arm, "when I say run, we run." There's an undertone of rage in Matsumoto's voice that Nino appreciates; he relates to this anger and hoards it, and he's sure they will do their best to revenge Ohno. He deserves that. He more than deserves it.

"Running," the thing says, sounding as if it doesn't understand the concept. "You can try, certainly. I will catch you in the end."

"Run," Matsumoto says calmly, and they turn, and they run, somewhat blindly, Nino just following Matsumoto's lead. He's not sure where they're running to, but Matsumoto seems like he knows where they're going, and Nino really has no option but trusting him with his life. He's not sure they're making it out alive.

"Here," Matsumoto says over the sound of their feet and their panting breaths as they slow down, "when we heard it walking around earlier, it was in this part of the house. We need to find him, I'm not leaving this goddamn hell house without him. We can't leave him here."

Nino agrees even when the limping, dragging, horrible sound picks up somewhere behind them. The sound grates on Nino's already thin nerves, but it is like he can't feel the fear anymore, as if he's past it. Everything has been narrowed down to finding Ohno's body, to hopefully avenge him, to bring about that monster's demise.

Nino would be frightened of himself if he had energy to spare: he has never known himself to possess any of these feelings nor the strength of them.

They turn left and stop dead at the carnage of the room. The room is huge and all the windows are shattered - there's glass absolutely everywhere, the entire floor basically mined with shards, furniture looking like it has been blown to the walls, upturned tables and knocked over chairs.

In the middle of the floor is Ohno.

He's completely still, lying on his side, blood on his face and hands, one arm stretched out, chalk having rolled from his fingers. His eyes are open, dark and empty, and Nino couldn't have stopped the sound that left his throat even if he had wanted to. Matsumoto is already running to him, regardless of shards, dropping into a crouch while he frantically places his fingers to feel for a pulse on Ohno's throat, but Nino already knows with a sort of grave certainty, that it's too late. That doesn't stop him from rushing to Ohno's other side, mirroring Matsumoto's crouch by Ohno's side as they roll him carefully onto his back, trying to move the shards out of the way.

Nino can't bear it.

Just hours earlier Ohno had been sitting with him, laughing softly, teasing him, helping him when Nino had been frightened of mere props. What he wouldn't give to have Ohno's soothing words and comfort now, to tell him that it'd be alright, that they could leave if it got too much for him.

The dragging, clonk-limping is coming closer.

To think that if they get out of this alive, all he has is the video Sho took of them, their sparse talking in between creepy dolls and slamming doors. It's unbearable.

Matsumoto removes his fingers from Ohno's throat, brings his hand up to shield his eyes as Nino realizes Matsumoto is crying, shoulders shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry," Matsumoto cries. "I'm so sorry."

Nino reaches for Ohno's eyes and closes them gently with his good hand. Ohno's skin is so cold.

Something falls down his cheeks and Nino realizes that he's crying, too. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to ask Ohno out, to explain how it could be, he was supposed to coax laughs from Ohno's mouth, gentle smiles and teasing eyes. He feels like he's been robbed of a future that he's only been imagining for such a short time but felt so possible that he could almost taste it.

The dragging sound comes closer and stops and Nino looks up.

The thing has stopped in the doorway, its face once again torn and twisted into a grotesque mask of smugness, of gloating and malice, and god, Nino is so done with everything now. He's exhausted, he hurts, he's grieving, he's angry.

"Isn't this sweet?" The thing says and Nino is almost blinded with how angry he is. He meets Matsumoto's red-rimmed eyes over Ohno's dead body and he knows without a doubt that that is their promise: They will not go down without a fight, they will fight to bring Ohno back with them, to give him the rest he deserves. They wordlessly rise to their feet and even when Nino is momentarily struck with the thought that they have no weapons, they have no defences, he doesn't care. He feels weightless - the only thing grounding him is Ohno's dead body and the throbbing of his wrist.

The thing in the doorway, Ohno's murderer, drops all pretences of being civilised and raises its hands, releasing something that knocks both Nino and Matsumoto backwards, and the force of the collision with the wall knocks the breath right out of his body. He can't breathe.

Several moments go by while he hears Matsumoto get to his feet and run, and Nino forces himself up into a crawl, feels the glass go through the fabric of his pants and feels his hands slice open. He opens his eyes to see Matsumoto try to reach the thing, but he goes right through it.

"Some ghost hunter," it drawls just as Matsumoto tries again, runs for it through the glass on the floor and falls right through it as it goes slightly translucent, and it goes for Nino.

Nino feels only calm. His wrist throbs.

It limps closer and Nino makes himself stand up straight, forcing air into his lungs, and the closer it gets, the less its face makes sense. It's a mockery, nothing else, like it can't retain its attempt at humanity. The proportions are shifting, the mouth twists, the eyes are empty black spaces.

"You're new," it says, fading in and out of transparency and solidity as Matsumoto tries to pummel it with a chair. "Fresh meat. He really hadn't thought this through, had he?"

Nino's wrist burns.

He chances a look down and he gasps.

"Matsumoto," he says and ducks, takes a chance and runs from that foul being. "Is this normal? Look at this, holy shit, what the hell?"

The bracelet is a brand around his wrist, and it feels like it's searing through his skin.

Something like comprehension dawns on Matsumoto's face, his mouth dropping. "The sigils," he says with wonder. "They were never meant to trap it or keep it here."

He looks frantic and ducks as the thing hurls something invisible in their direction. The wall cracks slightly where he'd been standing.

"Ninomiya," he says urgently, "the sigils! They weren't for that thing, it was to keep himself here! He's here! It was for himself! Don't you understand?"

No, Nino doesn't, but he does understand the sudden, sharp flare of hope that blooms almost desperately in his chest, a thumping in his ribcage. No, he doesn't understand. But he doesn't need to.

He runs at the thing and ducks under it, it's a gamble and it almost works; he gets hit by something that scratches his right shoulder but he doesn't feel it properly, he's mad in his dash for Ohno's still body, the shards of glass crunches under his feet, and he crouches there while Matsumoto is taking swings at it.

"I tire of your antics," the thing says with a bored voice. "Can't you just die and get it over with? I'll get you in the end, this is just tiresome and unnecessary."

"Never," Matsumoto defies it and shouts, "Ninomiya, the bracelet!"

And Nino slips it around Ohno's limp wrist, holding his cold, cold hand and praying, praying, praying that this will work, that they're not wrong, that there's hope left for them all amidst this madness. And this is when Nino notices the large sigil that is all over the floor in the room. The chalk beside Ohno's still outstretched hand makes a frightening amount of sense as suddenly, Ohno's body seizes, arching off the floor, and Nino rears back, scrambling as the thing Matsumoto is trying to battle screams with a thousand voices, high and shattering, and the remnants of glass in the window frames blast outwards.

Ohno inhales a long, gasping breath and jerks upright, looking wild with his pupils blown wide open, and just as he scrambles to his feet, the walls burst into flames, long and licking and the heat is choking.

Matsumoto is knocked back, falling over an upturned table and stays down, and Nino is still scrambling back even as Ohno gets to his feet, and the thing in the room is not looking amused or put out anymore - it looks angry. It is radiating fear.

Nino feels heat at his back and knows he can't retreat any further, but he's not even sure he wants to, so he tries to crawl around and to Matsumoto who still isn't moving amidst the wreckage of furniture.

"Why won't you just die?" It snarls at Ohno, who absently wipes at his head, fresh blood making its way down the side of his face. Flames travel from the walls over the floor, burning Nino as it passes him, to envelop Ohno, and Ohno throws out his hands as if to shield, and Nino gasps.

The flames bend around him, passing him, up over his head and the thing lets out a howl of rage, and that's when Nino sees it.

There's a shimmer around Ohno, just about visible, and it reminds Nino of the way that grotesque monster went see through every time Matsumoto tried to hack away at it, and he thinks Ohno might actually not be all there.

"You were dead, so why won't you just stay that way?" It growls at Ohno, who for his part just looks sort of pissed.

"You need to get back where you belong," Ohno says, his voice low and hoarse as if his throat has been ripped apart and put back together and it sounds painful. "I can't keep sending you halfway back, so I brought back up with me."

"But you were dead," it emphasises, "I had you, you were gone, I checked! How?"

"You can't kill someone who has already died," Ohno says calmly with that hoarse, spent voice. "I think it's time you acknowledged that."

It actually pauses, its face twisting and slurring and it suddenly morphs, losing every resemblance of shape it had been holding on to. The vague human shape disappears and there's a void left, almost like a hole in the air, swirling and pulsing.

"Get back," Ohno orders and Nino wastes no time ducking in behind him as Matsumoto is finally up on his feet again and does the same. "This is it, this is when I'm done fighting you."

The shimmer around Ohno settles into a blue sheen, it intensifies for a short moment before Ohno reaches out a hand and says, with grief Nino doesn't understand, "Goodbye."

The house groans. The piercing sound of glass shattering deafens everything Nino could possibly have heard: slapping his hands over his ears, he looks to Ohno and only sees his lips moving as the black void crumbles in on itself, trembling and looking like it's trying to claw itself to a ground in this reality.

Nino just wants it gone.

Ohno appears to be giving one almighty push, and where he gets the power from, Nino doesn't know, but he doesn't care at all, because Ohno shouts something and as suddenly as it began, there's silence.

Complete silence. Only their breaths.

The flames around them die out as if the oxygen fuelling them has been sucked from the room.

Ohno stands for a moment longer and then unceremoniously drops to his knees, panting harshly with his eyes closed, and Matsumoto is quick to sling an arm around his shoulders and lean him backwards slightly. "You alright?"

Ohno looks up at him as if he can't believe he asked. "I died."

"Doesn't mean you're not alright," Matsumoto says matter-of-factly and Nino is pretty sure there's a story there. "Is it over?"

"I don't know," Ohno admits, then coughs to clear his throat. "I hope so."

Nino doesn't want to think about it, but he reaches out to take Ohno's hand with his own good one. "You really died. But you came back."

Ohno blinks, then lowers his eyes. "Yeah," he says hoarsely. "I guess I did."

"You aren't dead, are you? Like, this isn't a trick?" Matsumoto asks, checking for a pulse and Ohno takes it like a good sport.

"I'm here," he reassures them both and folds his fingers around Nino's where he's holding on to him. "I'm not dead. Feeling a little bit dead, but I'm alive."

Matsumoto has tears in his eyes by now, but he doesn't let them fall even as he helps Ohno to his feet. Ohno sways a little bit, but his legs hold him up, and they shuffle around him so Nino can support him with his right arm, Matsumoto on his other side.

"Thank god, thank god," Matsumoto whispers fiercely into the side of Ohno's neck, and Nino feels sort of like he's intruding, but also sort of like he's deserved this, to be present in this moment. He didn't give up. He knows he didn't do much, but he stayed behind and if he hadn't... if he hadn't, Ohno would've stayed forever dead in that room.

The moment they leave the room, Ohno looks back then hangs his head. "Goodbye," he says. And they walk.

"Leader, thank god," Aiba says on a rushed breath, running to them as they finally, finally, finally leave that damn house behind, stepping out into the air in what feels like the first time in days. The sun has just started to rise, the sky painted a light orange over the fleeting dark blue. Behind Aiba, Sho rises to his feet and rushes to Nino as Aiba takes over supporting Ohno for him, and the breath is knocked right out of him as Sho hugs him tightly.

"I've never been so relieved in my life," Sho confesses, breaking away and framing Nino's face as if he really can't believe Nino came out alive. Nino can relate. "Fuck knows how I'd explain I lost my client while doing a harmless haunted house."

Nino can't help it. He laughs. "What the hell. Your priorities, man."

He knows they all look a mess - his wrist is broken, Aiba has a large gash on his forehead and Sho and Matsumoto both look like they've walked through hell, their clothes torn. Ohno is undoubtedly bearing the worst of it, with dried blood on his face and hands, hair matted flat to his skull with blood still glistening, and he's trembling ever so slightly.

But they're alive. They made it out.

Aiba and Matsumoto have gotten Ohno to sit on the ground, leaning against a tree, and they're both crouching in front of him, Aiba having one hand on his shoulder. "Leader, what do you want done to it?"

Ohno wets his lips and he looks broken. "Torch it," he says after a pause. "To the ground."

Matsumoto nods sharply, once, and Sho walks over to him after squeezing Nino's shoulders once more. "We piled up here," Sho says and points to where they'd obviously started piling wood. "Aiba-san said you had fuel in the car to start it."

Taking a deep breath, Matsumoto nods again and motions for Sho and Aiba to follow him, and Nino drops down gingerly next to Ohno instead, and they just sit there for a long moment and Nino, knowing that less than an hour ago the possibility of this had been the furthest from his mind, decides to just go for it. He reaches for Ohno's hand and squeezes his fingers.

"Hi," he says.

Ohno smiles a little. "Hi," he whispers back, his voice finally giving out, and all there's left is a breath of a whisper.

"If this is you guys going easy on me because you were told I'm a scaredy-cat, I really don't want to experience the hard core version," Nino says on an exhale.

Ohno's laugh is a cough-hoarse murmur.

"It would have sucked if I only had video of you after this, especially since I suspect no one feels like going in after the camera before they set the entire thing on fire," Nino says frankly.

"I could go back in and get it for you," Ohno offers. "Nothing in there to hurt me anymore."

"You're not going back in there," Nino says, probably harsher than what it warranted. Then he softens it with a playful scowl. "Does that mean you'd prefer if I only had video of you after this?"

"Cute," Ohno whispers. He squeezes Nino's fingers right back, looking genuinely amazed. "I'd hoped," he starts, then has to swallow around the hurt in his throat. "I'd hoped you'd come back, but I didn’t know."

"Some leap of faith," Nino says and knocks their shoulders. "That's scary, you know."

Ohno makes a face that clearly says tell me about it.

Nino runs his fingers up from Ohno's hand to the bracelet around his wrist, but he finds that in the grand scheme of things, there are far more important things to be talking about right now than a bracelet that may or may not hold the ability to revive people from the dead. Or is magical. Nino doesn't actually care.

They watch Aiba, Matsumoto and Sho set up the rest, pouring gasoline on it and discussing something from the looks of it.

"Not the first time you've burnt down a house to the ground?"

Ohno shrugs, then winces. "It happens. Sometimes there's nothing to save."

"Or no one," Nino says gently, hand going to Ohno's again. "You really okay?"

"I'll be fine," Ohno says. "I died, you know."

Nino scowls and barely refrains from punching his arm, but Ohno is right. He died. "You should see a doctor, too, I think. Better to be on the safe side, you know?"

Ohno nods. "We'll go later. I'm sure those two won't let me out of their sight for a while."

"They care," Nino returns, knowing it is true to the deepest core of the meaning of care. Aiba and Matsumoto were ready to face death and beyond for him, and it frightens Nino, or makes him awestruck, rather, because he hadn't ever expected to see this kind of fierce loyalty outside of books and movies. He thinks that if he could care even a fraction of this, it would be a wonder to experience.

He takes a deep breath, steels his courage. "Do you think, perhaps, when everything here is done, you'd like to have dinner with me? Sometime?"

Ohno coughs. "First I need to make sure I didn't bring anything else back with me this time."

This time. Right. So Ohno has died twice now. "So what you said, that you couldn't kill someone who'd already died and all that? You're not actually a ghost or something? Or going to haunt me after this? That would be a PR disaster of proportions, I'm telling you."

Ohno looks like he'd laugh if he had the voice for it. "Not haunting anyone." And he takes Nino's good hand and, in a complete cliché of those same books and movies Nino was thinking of, places it over his heart. Through the material of Ohno's shirt, Nino can feel a steady, strong heartbeat.

"Okay," Nino says. "Okay. If you say so."

The quirk of his lips that Nino finds very charming. Thinking of when they arrived and Nino saw him for the first time; now Ohno is covered in blood, soot, grime and sweat, but then again, Nino doesn't look his best either, and does any of it really matter? No. No, not at all. Ohno is still Ohno and Nino is still ridiculously attracted to the idea of trying them out.

"So?"

Ohno blinks, slowly. "So?"

"Was that a yes to dinner? With me."

"Yes," Ohno says, "absolutely. If you can wait until nothing's following me around anymore."

Okay, so maybe Ohno can talk to spirits or ghosts or whatever, and so maybe he is apparently completely fearless in the face of danger, and okay, maybe he's died twice already and doesn't seem to think that it's that big of a deal, and Ohno's friends are also his colleagues and all of them apparently set things on fire once in a while, but.

Fuck it. Removing his hand from Ohno's chest (hello, that was actually really nice), he slips his arm through Ohno's and leans on his shoulder.

"Your poor hand," Ohno whispers. "I'm really sorry for this mess."

"Well," Nino huffs and watches as Sho and Aiba back away from Matsumoto, who seems like he's ready to light everything. "I can always write a song about it."

For good measure, he hums that bar from Ghostbusters again, just to see Ohno smile.

"Go back to the car," Matsumoto shouts to them. Ohno manages to get on his feet even if he looks a bit wobbly, and Nino doesn't want to let go of his arm even if it's probably not making things easier for him.

"Yes, yes," Sho says. "He's cute and you're clingy, I know, but can we just go back to the car now? I've had enough of flames for the rest of my life."

Aiba snickers, then holds on to Ohno's other side and steers him towards the car, and when they get there, Nino watches as Aiba buckles Ohno carefully in, and Ohno lets him, patient and with a small smile. Nino gets it: he definitely isn't the only one who'd thought Ohno had been gone. Matsumoto is running to them as flames are taking hold of it.

"So," Nino says and leans into the car where Ohno is sitting. Aiba very pointedly takes hold of Sho's elbow and drags him to the other car, and Nino appreciates it. His wrist aches and he's exhausted - he's not sure he's ever been this tired in his entire life, but fuck it, they're all alive, and wonder of wonders, Ohno is smiling at him. "See you when you're done being haunted?"

Ohno coughs and apparently gives up on correcting him. "Yeah," he says simply. "Come here."

"My life is actually not a cliché, you know," he says but leans closer obediently, Ohno's breath warm on his neck and Ohno slings an arm around Nino's shoulders, pulls him as close as the awkward angle into the car allows without Nino having to rest on his broken wrist.

"Thank you," Ohno whispers, tucking his head in properly over Nino's shoulder, face into his neck and a hand on his nape. "For saving my life."

And what do you say when faced with that kind of gratitude? If you're Nino, you say, "You owe me a date."

Ohno smiles. "I guess I can survive one date with you."

"For that," Nino says, feeling bold as a broad smile tugs at his lips. "You owe me two."

"I can live with that," Ohno whispers and then Nino is tugged out of the car by Sho and before he realizes it, he's seated in their own car and he sits there, and breathes for what feels like the first time in years.

"This shaved years off my life," Sho says. "I deserve a raise."

Nino moves in his seat, ends up almost sideways so he doesn't have to turn his head to look at Sho. "I thought you quit."

"Well, well," Sho says. "I got Ohno-san's number for you."

"You're re-hired," Nino says. "God. What the fuck."

"What the fuck indeed," Sho agrees. "And what are we going to say to Taichi-san?"

Nino shrugs. He doesn't really care at this point.

He has a date.

~~~~~~
The end.