Archive of Our Own ^beta

Just one more line.

Yeah, just one more. Then he would take a quick nap.

Charles made sure to keep the pen steady despite his trembling hands. Why was he shaking again? He hadn’t even pulled that many all-nighters. Maybe it was thirst? His eyes flickered to the empty bottle on the table, when was the last time he stood up to refill it?

Nevermind. That would break his flow, he shrugged and applied some more india ink to the page, making sure it was as neat and smooth as he had envisioned. A good finalization with meticulous lines would surely make his amateurish art stand out more. Besides, he suppressed a pointless sigh, he still had to draft the next issue when he was done polishing this one. And he had quite a few pages left to ink…

His eyes started to droop, eyelids heavy, and Charles shook his head hard to chase the sleep away. Too bad the ill-thought motion made him blur a still fresh ink line.

He scowled at the smeared panel for a second before crumpling the paper and throwing it in the bin, his hand getting a new blank page almost on instinct. He’d have to redo everything on that one from scratch. It was the only way to make sure it was perfect.

His publisher had already extended his deadline, so he had to make sure it was his best work yet. It was a wonder the man even accepted to work with him after Charles broke his finger, so he really shouldn’t push it.

He was halfway through the page when his stomach grumbled. Charles gritted his teeth and kept on drawing, what nonsense, he had eaten at some point yesterday, hadn’t he? Eating was for people who finished their work anyway. And it shouldn’t take more than another couple hours or so… He could stand it. Better than to break his workflow.

He just had to keep drawing.

He had just finished his last line on that page when someone knocked at his door.

“Ugh,” he bemoaned when the insistent knocking got louder, who could it even be? He was pretty sure he wasn’t expecting any guests, “I’m coming! I’m coming!” He yelled, worn down by the annoying noise. It’s not like he was going to get any work done like that anyway.

His head spun and his bladder complained as soon as he stood up. He winced and considered using the bathroom before getting to the door, but that persistent knocking made him change his mind. Better to deal with it already.

“What?!” His frown went from irritation to bemusement when he saw who was at the door.

“Finally!” Hakari complained, stepping into the house without a care for invitations or manners, an unimpressed Kirara in tow, “I was beginning to think you forgot about our hang out.”

Charles had the distinct impression he would regret his next words.

“Our… Hang out?”

“Yeah, we agreed to it last week, don’t tell me you forgot already?” He crossed his arms, eyes darting up and down, studying Charles.

“Wasn’t it only on Saturday?” Charles was sure he had made a note to call Hakari on Friday and call it off so he could focus on his work.

Hakari’s eyes narrowed at that.

“And what day do you think it is today?”

…Oh.

He was screwed, Charles stood up straighter despite his body’s complaint and tried to look cool and casual. In control.

“Ah, oui, obviously,” his smile sat weird on his face, “I’m sorry to make you come all the way here, but I can’t make it today,” he subtly leaned on the doorframe when his head felt more light than normal, “But, uh, I’m about finished inking my first chapter, so you could have a look if you stick around for a bit? So you didn't come here for nothing,” he offered. Hakari said he would buy his manga, right? Maybe he would appreciate it.

Maybe it would be enough for him to stop staring at Charles like that.

“Are you okay?” It sounded accusatory, “You look pale. And you’re acting weird too,” now even Kirara was looking at him with judgement, Charles gulped, but stood his ground.

“Of course, I’m great, tout simplement génial,” he insisted, “I just forgot to call you earlier, I’m sorry,” he tried again.

“I call bullshit,” Hakari took a step forward, “You have bags under your eyes bigger than Kirara’s purse,” he tilted his head slightly at her direction for emphasis, “And when was the last time you ate something? You look about to keel over,” Charles looked at Kirara for some support, but she had crossed her arms too, merely frowning at him.

“I’m fi—” his stomach chose this exact moment to rumble so loud it made Charle’s cheeks go pink in shame, “Uhhh,” he said.

Hakari didn’t give him a chance to try and save face.

“Forget going out, then,” he uncrossed his arms to shove his hands in his pockets — their default place, “You should eat something and get some shut-eye before you actually keel over and die,” Charles had opened his mouth to retort when Hakari grabbed him by the arm, “So, where’s your bedroom? I can see the kitchen from here, so you can go ahead and take a nap,” he marched to the corridor like he owned the house and, by the corner of his eye, Charles saw Kirara making herself comfortable on his sofa.

Hakari’s sudden tug on his arm made him move too quickly and he was reminded of a way more pressing issue, though.

“I, erm,” he lowered his gaze to the floor when Hakari cocked his head curiously his way, “Have to use the bathroom first.”

“You’re hopeless,” it sounded casual. An observation. Charles decided not to dwell on any of it too much, walking away briskly.

Charles woke up with an orange-pink light teasing his eyes, the culprit being the open window across from his bed. He frowned and turned over, letting the warmth of the sheets lull him some more before his brain caught up with the rest of reality. Then he jolted awake as if struck by a bolt of lightning.

How long was he asleep?

Why was he asleep in the first place?!

Oh, that’s right, Hakari. Charles remembered being thrown on bed with a dismissive “sleep” and having the door closed after him. Just like he remembered failing to come up with any convincing argument of why he absolutely couldn’t. And like he remembered the soft, inviting feeling of the mattress beneath him, his weak body giving up after being reminded of its existence and the weight on his eyelids coming back with a vengeance…

His eyes went to his shoes. He hadn’t even had the presence of mind to take them off before everything went black. Charles sighed and stood up, his neck complaining for being slept on in an awkward angle. He tried to roll it on his shoulders until the pain dulled and walked to the door, intent on going back to his studio (if you can even call a small room with a desk and scattered materials that) and finishing his work before the deadline.

…Wait, how long did he sleep? How much time did he have left? Charles cursed himself for not having a clock in the bedroom (he left his cell phone in the studio), eyes darting to the window. It was a sunset, right? It couldn’t be a sunrise, because it would mean he wasted a whole day. And what day was it again? Hakari had said it was Saturday today? Yesterday? Anyways he didn’t even see Friday passing by!

He had work to do.

Charles hesitated for a second by the door, eyes caught by the mirror on the wall. His hair was a mess, blue strands going in all directions, he ran his fingers through it to at least make his fringe look neater and tame a bit the wilder locks. Hakari was right about his eyebags too, his pale face making them stand out even more… Suddenly, he realized why the man was so adamant on getting him to bed.

He didn’t feel all that rested either. So it was just a waste of time.

When he opened the door, fully intending to go straight to his studio, Hakari was leaning on the wall outside, browsing his phone without a care. He looked up as soon as the hinges squeaked, appraising Charles like he was some kind of art exhibit.

(Or an animal to the slaughter)

“You’re still here,” Charles heard his own voice, stomach dropping.

“The hell is that reaction?” Hakari shoved his phone in his pocket, all attention on him, “‘course I’m still here. And where do you think you’re going anyway?”

“How long did I sleep?” Charles ignored the question, which earned him an annoyed glare.

“Not long enough, it seems,” his hard eyes locked on Charles, who still looked halfway to a zombie, “A couple hours, the whole evening… Does it matter?” He shrugged and, before the aspiring mangaka could open his mouth to say it very much did, he grabbed him by the arm, “C’mon, you look hungry and Kirara was so kind as to make you onigiri. You wouldn’t waste her efforts, would you?”

Charles thought about retorting he had work to do, but a glance at Hakari’s stern expression told him it would get him nowhere. Besides, Hakari was right (not that he would ever tell him that. His ego was big enough), it would be terribly rude of him to refuse Kirara’s food after she had cooked for him. He was probably already a pretty rude host for forgetting they would come then passing out on bed and leaving them to their own devices .

“Alright, but then I have to go back to drawing,” he allowed himself to be tugged along by Hakari, who dutifully ignored the remark.

Kirara didn’t look all that bothered by being left to her own devices, her gaze passing by Charles with disinterest before going back to some action film on the TV, her whole body sprawled on the sofa lazily as she called Hakari to join her when “he was done”.

“When he was done” apparently meaning “after shoving Charles on a chair and presenting a plate of cold onigiri with a flourish”. His stomach gurgled and revolved at the sight of food and, despite not remembering when his last meal had been, Charles was sure it was not hunger.

“It’s a bit cold now, but that’s what the microwave is for if you prefer them hot,” Hakari said, pointing to the appliance like it was his kitchen instead of Charles’, “Kirara and I are watching a pretty fun movie, you could come too.”

“No, I, uh, will eat here,” he tapped the table a bit too hard and suppressed a wince, “but you should go and watch the movie! I will be fine by myself,” he assured and, after studying him for a second, Hakari acquiesced with a shrug.

Charles didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Hakari was out of sight, then he sighed and stared at the food like it had personally offended him. It looked good. Delicious even. Still… He gave it a poke and frowned, his insides cramping and a sudden nausea climbing up his throat. He wasn’t hungry.

His stomach grumbled again in not-hunger and he pressed a hand to his belly. Eating was for people who finished their work, the idea of subverting it felt wrong on itself. He could eat when he was done. Then it would be the right time. And he liked to do things the right way.

His head felt light again. When was the last time he ate? But he couldn’t. Not yet.

His eyes danced around the trash bin, but it would be such a waste. So he stood up on his tiptoes and opened the fridge as quietly as he could, placing the onigiri plate gently in it. Now he had a meal ready for when he submitted his polished chapter to the publisher. It was good, right?

He filled a glass with cold water and sipped on it slowly, both to avoid upsetting his finicky stomach and to buy some time. He was supposed to be eating after all.

After what seemed like an appropriate amount of time, he stepped into the living room only to find Hakari laying on his sofa with Kirara on top of him, Hakari’s hand going up and down her back as some explosion scene unfolded on the TV screen.

“Aaah, I’m done, thank you and sorry to make you come all the way here,” he summarized, ignoring the display of affection and trying to fit in as many polite words as he could so it didn’t sound too much like he was kicking them out, “Uh, hopefully we could reschedule the whole hanging out part?”

Two curious pairs of eyes fixated on him the more he spoke.

“Whatever you mean?” Hakari scowled, “You woke up just in time for the amusement park opening hours, and we still have the rest of the evening and the whole night,” he said like it was obvious, “So go change and we will get going!”

“I really shou—”

“Aw, come on, Char-chan,” Kirara pouted, “Kin-chan and I were really looking forward to it!” Charles took a second to realize she was talking to him, then another to register the intensity of her stare.

“It will be my treat~” Hakari amended. And, in between his stubbornness, her pout and Charles' own weariness, he didn’t find it in himself to oppose.

It was nostalgic, in a way, Charles thought as they waited in line for their turn on the ferris wheel. Changing clothes did help him feel a bit better too, he didn’t even notice how long he had been wearing those ones until he got rid of them… Still, he tapped at his arm with impatience, he was losing so much time here. Last time there weren’t that many people around.

But then again, last time the world was pretty much ending.

His eyes fell on Kirara’s and Hakari’s hands held together as they gazed lazily around, waiting. He couldn’t help but to feel he was in the way.

When they finally entered their cabin and started going up, Hakari sent him a smirk, arm around Kirara’s waist.

“Told you next time I’d bring a babe,” he mentioned offhandedly as Kirara gawked at the park beneath them getting smaller and smaller.

“You didn’t bring me here just to be a third-wheel, did you?”

“What? ‘course not,” he looked over Kirara’s shoulders to the bright, colorful lights beneath them before eyeing Charles again, “Last time we were here, you just wanted to, how did you put it, gaze upon the end of it all,” his expression made it clear he found the phrasing more than a bit dramatic, “So I thought you’d like to see it again. You know, the world, the one that keeps on spinning.”

Charles didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t, choosing to merely stare out the cabin’s window as well. His eyes darted around all the lights and the lines and lines of people down there that resembled ants from this height. Tokyo did recover nicely, didn't it? Maybe he had been too quick to judge it doomed back then.

His stomach chose this quiet moment to grumble in can’t-be-hunger and Charles gritted his teeth, but kept his upright posture and his gaze stubbornly on the horizon. By the corner of his eye, he could see Hakari and Kirara looking at him weird before setting their eyes back on the window too without a word.

When their turn ended and they stepped back on firm ground, Hakari wasted no time in putting some money in Kirara’s hand and pushing her and Charles in the bright-colored food stalls direction, muttering something about saving a spot for them in the next line.

“So, what would you like, Char-chan?” Charles tried to trudge along Kirara’s excited steps, “Maybe a hot dog? Oh, what about takoyaki? Maybe popcorn? Wait, there’s cotton candy there!” She would gesticulate wildly at every single booth.

“Why do you keep calling me that, Hoshi-san?” He asked, finally catching up to her as she picked a line to stay in (the cotton candy one).

“Because it’s cute,” she said like it was obvious, “And because any friend of Kin-chan is my friend too,” her smile was so easy and genuine, “So you could just call me Kirara, you know,” then, as an afterthought, “Will you get cotton candy too?” She motioned to the line he was inadvertently waiting in as well.

The idea of something so sugary made him nauseous.

“Uh, no, thank you, merci beaucoup,” he declined quickly, “I”m… Not hungry, actually,” Seemed like the wrong thing to say, because her cheerful expression morphed into a frown.

“You sure? You’re looking a bit pale,” she cocked her head, starry eyes studying him, “Maybe you’ll find something you like here, since you weren’t up for my onigiris,” there was the slightest accusation there, but she didn’t sound too bothered, “Here, go find something,” she placed way too much money on Charles’ hand and stared at him with stubborn intensity.

She was just as bad as Hakari, Charles sighed and decided to look for something only to appease them both, even if his stomach didn’t quite agree with the idea. He looked around, favoring the booths with shorter lines. No takoyaki because fried things sounded like a nightmare right now. Nothing too sweet either.

…Couldn’t he just say he ate something while she was in line and then everyone would be happy? He dismissed the idea as soon as it appeared, those two were too good at calling him out on a lie.

Charles ended up ordering the blandest hotdog he could. No sauces, no additionals whatsoever, only a sad sausage in sad plain bread.

Fitting. Maybe he could stomach this one.

Just chewing his small first bite made him want to spit it out. Still, he forced the mushy thing past his throat and greeted Kirara with a tight-lipped smile. She was holding a huge blue-and-pink, flower-shaped cotton candy and beamed at seeing him eating.

“Let’s go find Kin-chan then!” She exclaimed, ”He should be in the rollercoaster line,” she grabbed his arm and strode forward, ducking and sidestepping to avoid the other visitors. The park was pretty crowded today.

Charles forced another bite down and stared at his half-eaten hotdog, then at Kirara hopping happily ahead of him. With so many people around, her attention was probably more on avoiding tripping on anyone than it was on him… He eyed the trash bin conveniently on their way, took a deep breath and threw the hotdog there quickly.

No reaction.

He exhaled slowly, glad it had worked out.

When they found Hakari, the man’s unyielding gaze fell straight onto him.

“Didn’t find anything you like?” He questioned at the same time Kirara eyed him in confusion and asked what happened to his hotdog.

“I already ate it,” he made sure not to avert his gaze, “Délicieux,” he added and, when it got no reaction, decided to amend, “You were right, I just needed to eat something,” he lied through his teeth. What he really needed was to go back home as soon as possible and finish his work.

“Well, why don’t you try some cotton candy too? It’s too big for me alone anyway,” she presented him the sugary abomination right under Hakari’s watchful eyes.

“Uh, merci,” he took the smallest bit he could get away with, nausea creeping up his throat and holding his stomach in a knot.

He got so close, Charles bemoaned. So close.

It was already their turn to go in the rollercoaster. He just had to endure a bit longer. And then he had to go and ruin everything.

His whole body shuddered and he watched the mess splattered on the toilet’s bowl, some of it on the seat. He could distinguish the mushy bits of bread and still firm bits of cooked sausage, all covered in a subtle pink-and-blue hue thanks to the cotton candy’s food coloring, then diluted by clear and greenish bile and acid when there was nothing left to vomit.

Another shudder and he felt the bitter taste of acid on his tongue, his throat burning, as more clear liquid joined the mess. Charles took a grounding breath and waited a second longer before standing up slowly and pressing the flush button with a vomit covered finger.

Disgusting.

He wiped the vomit and saliva off his hand and fingers, some of it had flowed down his wrist and forearm, he frowned, got some more toilet paper and scrubbed it clean. Hopefully, none had gotten on his sleeves. Still, he made a mental note to dump the shirt in the laundry bin as soon as he went back home.

After all, it would be bad to risk staining his immaculate pages with vomit. He had trashed enough ruined drawings as it was.

He flushed once more just to be sure and wiped the toilet seat as well. No traces left behind. Good.

He remembered running away from the line just as Hakari and Kirara stepped up the rollercoaster stairs, clutching at his rebellious stomach and swallowing back an oppressive nausea wave. He didn’t even look back at their confused faces, just yelled he “had to go to the bathroom” and “you can go without me” and “je suis désolé ”.

How long had he spent retching in this subpar public bathroom anyway? Hopefully, long enough that Hakari and Kirara managed to ride the rollercoaster, find another ride to enjoy together and forget about him in favor of their date. Sounded a bit delirious, he conceded, washing his pale face with some cold water, but not impossible, right?

His face fell when he found Hakari leaning on the wall just outside the bathroom door, hands in his pockets, eyes lazily on the crowd passing by and Kirara nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, he regretted not stalling in the bathroom for a bit longer.

“Here,” Hakari handed him a water bottle casually, “You should have some.”

“... Merci,” Charles accepted it with hesitant fingers. But it was good to wash away the bitter taste and soothe his throat a bit.

“So, how are you?” Hakari asked, “And I swear I’ll kick some common sense into you if you lie about it,” he added before Charles could even open his mouth, “I can smell a liar a mile away. And you can’t bluff to save your life,” Charles didn’t doubt any of these statements.

He must have taken too long to respond, because Hakari sighed, stood upright and gestured for him to follow.

“C’mon, I know a place we can talk,” he said like it was an herculean task.

Maybe it was.

They ended up in a somewhat secluded part of the park, most rides closed or under maintenance, so there weren’t even blinking colorful lights to give it an amusement park feeling. It was away from the crowd and away from most of the noise. Charles tapped mindlessly at the bench’s armrest, eyes on the ground and curled on himself, sitting as far from Hakari as possible.

“So, you planning on talking anytime soon?” The man prodded, “Because sitting here all night with a dude isn’t my idea of fun,” he argued, but Charles had known him long enough to hear the concerned undertone.

“Where’s Hosh- Kirara?” Charles deflected, gaze still fixated on the weeds sprouting from the dirt beneath them.

“She's fine. Having fun. Should meet up with us later,” even if he didn’t look his way, Charles could still feel Hakari’s piercing gaze, “It’s about you right now, so spill it already,” never one for half-words, was he? Charles snickered, “Why don’t you start by telling me about this important work of yours? Since it’s all you want to talk about all day.”

Charles perked up at that, gaze shifting to Hakari before his mind could catch up. That was the perfect opportunity. He could finally tell Hakari why it was so important. Then he would surely understand the stakes here and send Charles back home, no hard feelings, no nothing. And he would finish his chapter in time and start sketching the next one ahead of schedule so his publisher would be happy and he would be able to build up enough material to get his first manga published and it had to be perfect and why was he still here at this bench instead of working and—

Right. Explain. Charles’ mouth ran without his brain's input, trying to articulate everything that crossed his mind, every little thought and reasoning. He tried to convey the sheer importance of it by words and gestures and hoped it would carry a fraction of the urgency he felt.

Hakari watched it all unfold without a word, merely raising a brow when Charles started to speak faster and faster. When the mangaka finally stopped talking, out of breath and looking at him expectantly, Hakari sent him a stern glance.

“Okay, now that it’s out the way,” he crossed his arms, “Before Kirara and I arrived, when was the last time you had slept?” He watched as Charles’ shoulders sagged and he avoided looking his way again, “Eaten?” He prodded, being met by silence, “Drank water?” He gritted his teeth, a sudden urge to smack some sense into Charles the longer the other man kept quiet.

“Seriously? Not even water?” He threw his hands up in exasperation, “You know, when I told you to draw like your life depended on it, I didn’t mean you should stop living to draw!”

“What is one man's life compared to the eternity of time and space?” Charles retorted, voice soft and low and eyes on the ground, “No more than a snowflake that glitters in the sun for a moment before melting into the flow of time,” his gaze shifted to the night sky above them, a few stars glimmering at the distance, “That’s from Ozamu Tezuka,” he clarified.

Great, Hakari thought, he’s started quoting manga authors, he rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure you need to be alive to draw manga,” he wouldn’t let it go this time, “And not just functioning like a sleepless hungry zombie.”

“I was going to eat something when I finished that chapter,” Charles rebutted in a defensive tone, “Take a nap too. It was just a few more pages.”

“You didn’t even know what day it was. I doubt you had seen the sun in days. You’d still be toiling at your desk if Kirara and I didn’t almost bring your door down.”

“Then maybe I’d have finished!” Charles shouted.

“Why’s it so important?!” Hakari matched his tone easily, “I told you, a noob shouldn’t worry like an established creator. So what if you need another extension? You can wait a month longer to debut. I’d beat your editor up myself if he gave you hell over it,” the offer was as genuine as can be.

“I just wanted it to be perfect,” Charles sighed, eyes still studying the few stars in the sky and a moon shrouded by clouds.

“Manga just needs to be interesting. If it is then it will get serialized,” Hakari quoted, “Tsugumi Ohba,” he looked smug when Charles’ gaze fixated back on him, “So don’t worry so much about perfection. Anyone ever said you despair too easily?” He raised a brow.

“Since when are you an Ohba-sensei fan?”

“I’m not,” he shrugged, taking his phone out his pocket, “I just googled it, since I know you don’t take words seriously unless they were printed on a manga first,” he waved the screen at him dismissively.

Charles felt his cheeks hot with the criticism.

“Oh, this one’s good too,” Hakari perked up, “Before I started writing manga, I was just watching days pass by, but now everyday is fun and I feel like I'm really living,” He eyed Charles critically, “Is that how you feel at all?”

“Ta gueule,” he pouted, “Okay, point taken, I see where you’re going with this,” he crossed his arms, “But, technically, that’s not Ohba-sensei, that’s Akito Takagi. A character.”

“So you can quote creators’ comments as poems, but I can’t quote a character?” Hakari called him out, “I should have just beaten some sense in you instead of talking things out,” truth be told, that was always his first option. Troubles and feelings came so much more naturally to him in the middle of a fight. Understanding too. But he wasn’t about to pick a fight with someone who looked like they could barely stand.

“Next time, make sure to at least eat something first so I can beat you up,” he muttered and, to his surprise, got a chuckle out of Charles.

“I may not particularly like violence, but it’s the quickest way to resolve a conflict,” he quoted, “Akira Toriyama.”

“Yeah, see? This guy gets it,” Hakari kicked a pebble under his shoe, “But I think going the slow route every now and then isn’t so bad,” he scanned the quiet area around the bench, hard to believe it was even part of the loud park behind them.

“I would have eaten something, but…” Charles risked a glance at Hakari, “It just feels so wrong. Like I’m slacking. I feel sick,” he said casually, and Hakari wondered if he just had this habit of saying the most concerning nonsense with a straight face.

“Okay, enough of that,” Hakari stood up briskly, “Before I actually start beating some sense in you,” he offered Charles a hand to get up, “Don’t make me start checking on you just to be sure you aren’t killing yourself through sheer stupidity,” he sighed, swearing he would ask Kirara to lock Charles out his studio by force with her technique if he ever pulled something like this again.

“You would?” Charles tilted his head, it sounded very un-Hakari-like.

“‘course I would, we are friends,” he gruffed, then, when he saw Charles' reaction, “The hell is this face? You did know that, right?” He crossed his arms, “You gave up a whole rib when I asked, and I like to think you wouldn’t do that for just anyone,” he raised a brow. Although, to be honest, any credibility he had for Charles’ common sense was on thin ice after today.

“Yeah, sorry, you’re right,” Charles acquiesced, and Hakari felt his own annoyance dimming, “But you’re not going to start calling me Char-chan too, right?” He sounded dead serious.

Hakari laughed and exaggerated a pensive pose, rubbing his pointer finger and thumb on his chin.

“Hmm, okay, I guess I can do that,” he said finally, “If you start calling me Kin-chan,” he grinned, “Do we have a deal?”

“Oui.”

They found Kirara waiting for them in the middle of the park and holding way too much stuff on her arms. Still, she managed to support it all in just one arm and free the other to wave excitedly at them.

“There you are! Finally,” she beamed, “I got all the food Kin-chan asked for, and earned a bunch of cool things at the games booths,” she tried to showcase everything at once without dropping any item. A true feat of balance.

Charles gritted his teeth at the mention of food, but Kirara didn’t seem to notice and Hakari said nothing.

“Let’s see, some takoyaki for Kin-chan,” she handed it to him, “Some popcorn for Char-chan,” it was a small portion, he noticed with some relief, “Aaand some cake for me!” She finished with a grin, still balancing several plushies, tacky keychains, plastic bracelets and other cheap, colorful souvenirs in one arm and using the other to shove the cake in her mouth.

Charles held the popcorn bag awkwardly, hunger and nausea fighting and rolling around in his entrails as he tried to keep a straight face. Kirara swallowed a mouthful of cake and her star-shaped pupils fixated on him.

“No butter, no salt,” she informed, “Should go easy on the stomach,” Charles wondered how much she knew, but figured he’d rather not know.

He grabbed a single popcorn with hesitant fingers and placed it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Hakari watched him from the corner of his eye every now and then, but mostly kept to himself. Charles put another one in his mouth and felt the almost satisfying crunch of white, firm but soft popcorn yielding to his teeth. The lack of salt made it more endurable too.

Or maybe it was easier to bear now that it was all out in the open.

“Kin-chan! I’ve got something to show you!” Kirara reached for her purse, a playful expression on her face.

Charles placed another lone popcorn on his tongue and watched as Kirara put some plastic bright-colored hair clips on Hakari’s hair, who surprisingly stood still as she did her work. Charles noticed she had some on her own hair too, little things with childish patterns and garish colors.

“I got a bag full of them in a game,” she explained when she noticed Charles watching, “There were rings and bracelets too,” she showed her hands and arms ornamented with the cheap plastic things, “Want some too, Char-chan?” The glint on her eyes told Charles she might not wait for an answer.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Hakari snickered, gaudy hair clips making him look ridiculous, but confident demeanor challenging anyone to as much as mention the fact.

Charles wondered what he had done to deserve the glittery ones.

They ended up riding the merry-go-round after that. It was nice. A bit too childish, but it was getting pretty late and most kids had left the park by now, so Charles decided it was harmless enough as long as there were no witnesses. Besides, he appreciated going on a calmer ride after having just eaten.

(He managed half the small popcorn bag, Hakari took the other half gladly when he couldn’t anymore)

They must look ridiculous now, a fully grown trio riding a carousel with a bunch of plastic accessories on their hair and hands. But no one dared say a thing, probably due to the death glare Hakari gave anyone who as much as looked at them wrong.

The world did keep spinning, Charles remembered Hakari’s words back at the ferris wheel, his hands gripping the pole as the fake horse he was riding kept on going round and round as well. Kirara looked content enough on her horse beside Charles, pointing at any interesting thing that caught her eye as they spun around slowly, and Charles couldn’t see Hakari’s face, since he was behind him and Kirara, but he supposed he must be enjoying it too if he didn’t say anything. Hakari wasn’t one to endure boredom quietly.

Charles was surprised when the ride ended and he realized he hadn’t thought about his work at all.

Before guilt could creep up on him though, Hakari broke the silence:

“So, what now?” His hands were in his pockets, as per usual, “Time to call it a night?”

There it was. His chance to go back home and do what had to be done. He would have jumped at it like a rabid animal not even an hour ago. Charles opened his mouth, but hesitated, eyes caught by something else.

“Actually, uh,” he didn’t believe he’d say it, “You think we could go on the ferris wheel once more?” His eyes were still on the attraction towering over them, peacefully spinning around, “S'il te plaît?” He hadn’t even enjoyed the ride the first time.

“Sure, the night’s still young,” Hakari sounded too pleased with the request, a smile tugging at his lips despite the casualness he tried to pull off.

“Yes!” Kirara squealed in delight, pulling them at the ferris wheel's direction before anyone could change their minds, an excited pep on her step.

She had been worried when Kin-chan said he’d talk to Char-chan alone, but it seems things played out smoothly. Not that she had doubted Hakari’s capabilities… She was just happy things were better now. Kin-chan always got colder when he was worried about someone. And Char-chan looked way too close to the bad kind of fever when he opened the door to them, almost delirious.

“Hey, look,” she perked up when they were high enough to see almost the whole park, pointed finger getting the other two attention, “There’s the ring toss booth I got all the cool souvenirs!”

“Kirara is a natural at ring toss,” Hakari bragged, an arm over her shoulders.

“Good to know,” Charles smiled, and Kirara was pretty sure that was the first time the whole night it wasn’t forced.

When Charles was back at his home’s door, he felt a very different kind of tiredness from when he left. The type of weariness that comes from walking around a park the whole night and trying different rides mixed with the one from having a burdensome but necessary heart to heart with a no-nonsense friend.

Friend.

Hakari might have called him out and threatened to beat him up on top of that, but it ended up being what he needed.

“Thanks for today, Hak- Kin-chan and Kirara,” he corrected himself in time, “I needed that,” he admitted.

“The next hang out is on you,” Hakari said in lieu of an answer, “So make sure it’s good.”

Charles nodded, unlocking the front door and ready to say his goodbyes. Before he could as much as step inside, though, Kirara approached him, rummaging through her garish trinkets and producing a bright green frog plushie out of thin air.

“Here! This one's for you,” she smiled, placing the plushie on his arms. Then, leaning forward and in a conspiratorial tone, “Kin-chan isn’t the only one looking forward to your manga. I wanna read it too! So please take care so you can draw it!”

She gave Charles’ shoulder a little pat before leaving with a smile and a wave.

“Until next time!”

“Yeah, try not to do anything stupid until then,” Hakari tilted his chin up, sharp eyes on him, “And if you ever need to blow off some steam, my fighting club is always open to anyone in conditions to fight,” he made sure to include the last part, just in case.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Charles nodded, suppressing a yawn, “Good night.”

He didn’t register how exhausted he was until he closed the door, a sigh leaving his body that morphed into a yawn midway. Still, it had been a good night, he supposed. When was the last time he had fun like today? Charles rubbed the sleep off his eyes and walked to the bathroom for a quick shower before bed. All he wanted now was to lie down and sleep.

He passed by his studio’s door without even thinking about opening it, much less about trying to draw anything at all at the moment. That could wait.

He changed into comfortable pajamas, removed the glittery hair pins from his fringe and left them on the bedside table to deal with later, just like the plastic rings and bracelets Kirara had left with him. He placed the plushie frog there as well, but, on a second thought, decided to place it on his bed instead, right beside his pillow.

Charles’ last thought before giving in to sleep was the plate of onigiris awaiting him in the fridge for breakfast tomorrow.