Chapter Text
Okarun focuses on willing as much of the turquoise aura as possible to leave with her. He's not sure how well it works, but he feels it fade from the edges of his shadows as she slips out from between his teeth. Momo is free.
The feeling is equal parts relief and regret and he hates himself for it.
Momo's uniform is rumpled but in tact, and one of her shoes is missing, but she looks unharmed. And she's breathing…isn't she? He can't really tell. Okarun can sense her aura burning in her chest, at least.
Okarun coughs a few times and Momo's missing shoe falls to the ground with a soft thud. Gross.
He looms over her unconscious body for a moment, fighting the urge to touch. He wants so badly to check her pulse, reassure himself that she's alive, check for bruises or broken bones. But he knows he can't. He'll be lucky if she ever lets him speak to her again, much less touch her. It makes him ache.
No, it’s more than that — he's in physical pain, he realizes with a gasp. The familiar, twisting agony of the curse snaps to the forefront of his senses. He's almost staggered by it. How could he have forgotten? How could he have withstood it for so long?
More out of reflex than any conscious thought, Okarun drops the transformation before it can overwhelm him again.
Just as his body begins to change, Jiji crashes into him. Strong arms wrap around Okarun's diminishing shoulders, pushing him away from Momo, holding him still as he shrinks back down to his true height.
The shadows are gone.
Okarun's hands are human, pink and blunt-nailed when they reach up to clutch at the fabric of Jiji's shirt. Okarun's eyes are more than just the round lenses of his glasses. Okarun's teeth are back where they belong on the inside of his face. Okarun's emotions are crashing down on him full force, finally free of the dam that had been holding them back.
Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.
It's heavy. It's suffocating. Okarun squeezes the turquoise earring still clutched in one hand. He's shaking, he realizes. He wants to scream at himself. How could you?
“Miss Ayase,” he says instead. The sound of her name is barely more than a whisper. His throat burns like he's been screaming. Everything hurts — of course it does. He held the transformation for way too long this time. Longer than he ever has before.
And it's like that thought cuts the last string holding him up because suddenly gravity is just too much. His legs give out from under him and his full weight collapses into Jiji's arms.
Jiji catches him, of course, and is saying his nickname over and over, trying to get Okarun's attention as his head lolls on Jiji's shoulder. But Okarun can't find the strength to respond.
Slowly, Jiji lowers them both until they're kneeling on the ground, angled so that Okarun is facing away from Momo and the girls. Careful hands are on his shoulders for a moment, making sure Okarun won't lose balance. Then, Jiji's gone.
Okarun blinks down at the dirty concrete he's kneeling on. He feels heavy and hollow at the same time. Empty.
Bummer.
Behind him, he hears his friends’ voices. Questions and elation and relief. He can't focus well enough to make out the words, but he recognizes Momo's voice. She sounds strong. She sounds like she's ok.
Okarun lets out a long, shuddering breath as he slumps forward to bury his face in his hands. Thank god. Thank god she's alive.
It’s then that Jiji reappears in front of him. He's pushing Okarun back by the shoulders to get a look at his face.
“Ken,” he says, and Okarun’s brown eyes finally focus on him. “Are you back with us?”
When Okarun looks up at his friend, his words get caught in his throat. Jiji isn't scowling at him like he had expected. There's no anger or suspicion in Jiji's expression, either. He just looks concerned. Like…like maybe he understands.
Tears prickle at the edge of Okarun's eyes so he squeezes them shut for a moment. He's such a shitty friend. All he can think about is how coldly he treated Jiji back when their roles were reversed. He isn't sure he could handle it if Jiji did the same to him now, even if he knows he deserves it.
When he gets his voice working again, Okarun asks, “Is she okay?”
Jiji glances over Okarun's shoulder to where Aira and Rin are helping Momo retrieve her shoe. She's sitting with one arm braced against the floor to keep herself balanced and she's grinning tiredly as she waves off the other two girls' offers to help.
“Yeah, man. Aira and Rin have got her. She's good.” Jiji's hands tighten on Okarun's shoulders. “How about you?”
And that's a difficult question to answer, now that Okarun stops to think about it. The initial, blinding pain has dulled almost to nothing. He feels awful, yeah, but he doesn't feel torn up and turned into a full-body bruise like he usually does after overusing the curse. Just…weak. Drained.
Slowly, Okarun raises his free hand and flexes his fingers experimentally. Lifting his arm takes effort. Making a fist aches. But somehow, that's all.
He knows from past experience that he should have sustained some pretty extensive injuries from overusing the curse like he did today. Did Momo's aura protect him from more than just the Serpo's psychic attacks? How much did he take from her? How much was he unable to give back?
That last question makes his heart stutter in his chest.
“It doesn't matter as long as she's safe,” Okarun mumbles. He adjusts his glasses, but they're still crooked when he lets go of the frames. The thought that Momo was protecting him while he fed on her life force like some kind of parasite has him feeling nauseous. He could have killed her. He probably almost did. What had he been thinking?
Jiji’s hand is in his hair suddenly, ruffling it with enough force to make Okarun's whole body wobble back and forth.
“Hey, what—” Okarun starts to say as he ducks and raises his arms defensively.
He's interrupted as Jiji makes a loud imitation of a buzzer sound, like they're on some kind of game show and Okarun just lost a point.
“Nope, sorry! That's iiiincorrect!” Jiji says as he finally lets Okarun bat his hand away. “It totally matters, Okarun. We were all so worried about you!”
“That's right,” Aira cuts in, kneeling beside them and wrapping her arms around Okarun's shoulders. “You did so amazing overcoming your demon side like that, Takakura! I knew you could do it.”
“Woo-hoo! Yeah, totes!” Jiji cries, grabbing Okarun's arm on the other side, effectively trapping him between the two of them.
The sound of footsteps approaching the trio causes their heads swivel in unison. Momo has waved off Rin's attempt to help her to her feet and now the two girls are walking over.
When Momo stops in front of them, Jiji says, “Momo! Ya got two shoes and are lookin' cyuuute!” with a comically huge grin and finger guns for extra effect.
Aira gives her a small smile, still too relieved to summon her usual pretense of rivalry.
Okarun's stomach attempts a complicated gymnastics routine. It must show on his face because Jiji jostles him a bit and then scrunches up his nose to make a weird face when Okarun turns to look at him. It feels oddly…encouraging? In a very Jiji sort of way.
After a moment, Okarun frees one of his arms from the awkward, sitting group hug that Aira and Jiji still have him in. Haltingly, he raises his hand until he's holding Momo's missing earring up for her to take. His fingers only pinch the very edge of the disc-shaped earring to ensure she doesn't have to touch him when she takes it.
“I'm so, so sorry, Miss Ayase,” he says. It's not nearly enough, he knows, but he can't say any of the other words pressing against the back of his teeth. Not when they might not be true.
I will never do that again, I swear.
I promise I would never hurt you.
Please, you have to believe me.
His eyes stay glued to the ground, unable to risk looking up and seeing the expression of disgust he's sure she's wearing.
Momo takes the earring, and when she does her fingers do not touch his. He feels something fracture inside of him.
But before Okarun can move, Momo grabs him by the wrist and pulls.
Okarun squeaks, startled, and Aira wisely lets go of him so that Momo can haul him to his feet. He stumbles forward and sways, unsteady but upright in front of her.
“Miss Ayase?” he asks, too shocked to remember that he was scared to look her in the eye.
Her expression is unreadable, eyes narrowed as she watches him with an intensity that makes him squirm.
“You idiot,” Momo says evenly. “You freakin' ate me before I could tell you guys my plan.”
Okarun wilts. “I'm sorry.” It's not enough. It's all he has.
Momo still has his wrist in her hand. Her fingers are curled around his bare skin because the tattered sleeves of his school uniform only reach past his elbows. It's driving him insane.
Slowly, without taking her eyes off his, Momo raises his arm to her lips and bites him.
“OW! Miss Ayase, what was that?!” Okarun cries, jumping back and clutching his arm to his chest. His other hand is slapped over the bright new teeth marks bruising his skin.
Beside them, a starry-eyed Rin whispers, “Whoa. Vampire love.” while Jiji doubles over with laughter.
Momo just grins wide, planting her hands on her hips and cocking her head to the side. Her one earring catches the light cheekily.
“Now we're even.”
One evening, as the two of them are walking home from school, Momo bumps Okarun's shoulder with her own. It distracts him from the rambling hypothesis he had been sharing with her about why the aliens had been able to track her using her earring.
She's wearing both of them again today. The sight of the hazy orange sunlight reflecting off of their bright turquoise sets something in Okarun's chest at ease.
Momo waits for him to look at her questioningly, then she says, “You know, if I were a Yokai, I'd want to eat you, too.”
And that makes Okarun stop dead in his tracks. All he can do is stare at her as heat creeps up his face in the beginnings of a brilliant flush. Because she couldn't possibly— there's no way. She doesn't know, does she?
He remembers then, with sudden and damning clarity, being told that Momo and Aira had both absorbed memories from the Acrobatic Silky all those weeks ago. They had experienced some of the Yokai's life simply by being exposed to her aura during the transfer of power. Was it possible that…when Okarun spit her out — when he tried so hard to make sure he gave her aura back — had he also shared some of his own memories of that day with her?
Momo seems to read on his face the moment he comes to this conclusion. Her grin widens and she gives him a cheeky little thumbs up. Like she can absolutely tell what he's thinking.
There's nothing else he can do under the sheer weight of his own embarrassment. Okarun hides his (now very red) face in his hands and whines, which causes Momo to dissolve into giddy laughter.
“Miss Ayaseeee!”