Archive of Our Own

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Heavy rain nearly drowns out that familiar voice. It’s a Tuesday night. The weather is awful. At this rate, he’s going to have to bike if he wants to make it. There shouldn’t be anyone interested in patrolling the west road out of Inaba.

Yu slows to a stop and raises his umbrella for a better look.

Detective Adachi Tohru half-heartedly raises a hand, then shoves it back into his raincoat. It’s the first time he’s seen the man in anything other than his ill-fitted suit - no, he’s still wearing that underneath. His front looks soaked, but if it’s bothering him, he doesn’t show it, ambling over to close the distance. “Aha. I thought that might be you, Yu-kun.”

“Adachi-san,” Yu mutters. “Good evening…”

“Not so sure about the good part.” Adachi sneezes, then rubs at his rain-stricken face. “You shouldn’t be out here, you know.”

The man’s right. It’s a school night, but more than that, it’s raining. Yu should be waiting in front of his TV, waiting for Inaba’s deadly midnight magic to happen. If it hadn’t been for a casual remark from the weather channel about today’s particular date, he’d already be sitting down, remote in hand.

Instead, Yu decides to get comfortable where he’s standing on the outbound road out of Inaba, because convincing his uncle’s work partner might take a while. “Adachi-san, you’ve heard of the Midnight Channel, right?”

It’s hard to make out Adachi’s face when the sun’s already set and rain smears his vision. He feels the policeman’s cold hand pull on his arm instead, bringing him off the road and onto the dirt.

“Rumors, sure,” Adachi says, letting go. When he pulls his hood up like that, squinting and leaning forward to get a better look, it’s easier to gauge his childish curiosity. “The show that shows you your soulmate, right? Lots of calls come in about it. What’s all this about?”

“The Midnight Channel can’t show you your soulmate,” Yu says.

“No,” Adachi agrees, odd glint in his eye, “it can’t.”

Then he smiles lopsidedly, eyebrows threatening to wag. “But you wanted it to, didn’t you, Yu-kun? Let me guess, you tried watching last time it rained? Here’s my advice: just say yes to all of them. You’ll figure out which chick you don’t like.”

There’s no easy way to explain that the detective is wildly off the mark, so Yu ignores that. “Do you know what today is?”

“Huh? It’s a school day, right?” Adachi’s still squinting at him. “Or are you talking about Risette moving into town? She’s got some rabid fans, y’know; I’ve had to shoo away two weirdos already. …Don’t tell your uncle I said that.”

“I meant with respect to the calendar,” Yu says. Rain continues to sheet around them; the last thing he wants to hear is Adachi talk about some cute teenage idol. “June 21st. Today’s the longest day of the year.”

He gets a shrug back in response. So?

Here’s the hard part. “That means it’s the summer solstice. Adachi-san, did you know that if you pick seven flowers from seven fields without talking and put them under your pillow, you’ll dream of your soulmate tonight?”

Adachi’s eyebrows disappear into his raincoat. “Is this a new rumor? Where’d you hear it, school?”

“Actually, no,” Yu says, grip on his umbrella tightening. Petrichor fills his lungs. “I heard about it in elementary school. We had a mixed classmate transfer in. She told me about the seven flowers and seven fields and the silent walk home.”

Then his classmate stopped smiling. It’s weird, she said. Forget about it.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Yu concludes.

Adachi’s hum is almost lost to the rain. “You’re surprisingly shy. The Midnight Channel didn’t work out, so now you’re chasing paganism?”

Is that what it’s called? Yu glances down the road. According to Kuroda, there’s a little meadow a short distance from Inaba; Naoki had mentioned another one a little past that. “I’ll be careful. But I’m supposed to get all the flowers before midnight.”

“We should head back, Yu-kun,” Adachi says in the downpour, though he doesn’t move. “Surely it’s not worth all this. A crackpot theory of love. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride.”

Yu shakes his head. “I didn’t have a chance to do this in the city. Not enough wildflower fields. Adachi-san, this is my only chance.”

Besides, would taking the subway count as cheating? He can’t remember exactly whether his classmate said he had to walk the whole duration…

“Your first chance. Do it in college instead. The timing will line up eventually.”

“Maybe,” Yu says, “but I have my reasons for doing it now. There’s someone I like.”

“And you want to confirm that with your subconscious?” Adachi’s voice is dry but humored; relievingly, he doesn’t seem three seconds away from hauling Yu back to bed. “Sorry, sorry. Magic. You want ol’ earthy magic to tell you you’re right. Anyone ever tell you you’ve got kind of anachronistic tastes?”

“I’m not sure if it’s real or not,” Yu says, shoulders finally relaxing. The detective notices the small movement, judging by his widening grin. “But I think I have to try.”

“Still sounds like a rumor to me. Might as well investigate,” Adachi says brightly. His hand slaps against Yu’s shoulder, but something feels a little off. “You’re gonna get sick walking out in this mess, though. I’ll take you in mine. Or what, no cars allowed?”

His hand is outstretched, getting wetter by the second as the wind picks up around them.

“I’m not sure,” Yu says, reaching forward to take it. “Probably not.”

⛆⛆⛆

Visibility is shit but Adachi is a decent driver, humming to some tune he doesn’t recognize as the patrol car rolls down the road.

“I have a map,” Yu says, patting his pocket. “I don’t remember if it has to be seven different fields or not, but better safe than sorry.”

“And you wanted to walk in this mess?” Adachi’s in a good mood. Probably excited to have an excuse to play hooky, but having a companion for his trek has Yu just as anticipatory.

“I’m pretty fast at running…”

The policeman snickers and turns the wheel. “Straight into mud, no doubt. Eating dirt isn’t good for you. Hey, this is the first place, right?”

Yu peers outside the window, but it’s pitch black.

“I think so,” he says, wondering if he’s perhaps underestimated his flower-collecting abilities, in the middle of a storm, in the dark of night. What if he steps on them?

Bright light blinds his vision. When he lowers his arm, it’s to Adachi casually beaming a flashlight into his face.

“Well, let’s get going then,” Adachi says, wiggling the light source up and down. “Try not to get in the mud too much, okay? Kind of a pain to clean out the footwell. Just grab something off the edge and get back in.”

Yu eyes the door handle. “Thank you, Adachi-san.”

“Huh? Save that for the end.”

“I’m saying it now,” his hand tentatively rests on the handle, “because I’m about to not talk the rest of the night, Adachi-san. It would ruin the magic. …Again, I appreciate this.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then:

“It’s not that serious,” Adachi mumbles, car door opening into the roar of rain. “C’mon, Yu-kun. Let’s go find your flowers.”

Then he’s gone, car door slamming shut. The outside world becomes muted, and with the lights going out with it, it’s easy to imagine that now he’s all alone. What if Adachi got swallowed up by the night?

Knock knock. Something raps the outside of the window before yanking the door open, pulling him by the arm.

“Nope, no talking,” Adachi says, quickly covering Yu’s opening mouth. His other hand jerks him against his chest before slamming the car door shut, then brushes past him for his umbrella. It opens with a fwoosh overhead; Yu twitches, caught by surprise.

They’re awfully close. Adachi’s fingers are cold against his lips, already wet again from the unrelenting downpour. One of them could slip into his mouth if he’s not careful.

“That’s what you said, right?” Hunched over like this, Yu is at eye level with the other man, flashlight caught between their bodies highlighting bits and pieces of Adachi’s profile. It’s hard to make out his expression. “You said the magic’s all over if you speak. Gotta try a little harder than that, Yu-kun.”

Yu nods jerkily, cheeks warming as he tries to take the umbrella from Adachi’s hand. Untangling their limbs has his hand pushing against the wet, slippery fabric of Adachi’s raincoat; the flashlight casts a wild arc as Yu stumbles a short distance away.

Why’d he do that? He could’ve gotten away with staying a few seconds longer. Something seems different about Adachi tonight, but he no longer has the means to ask. Yu never paid much mind to the not-talking part of the tale. He’s quiet by nature: why should he worry?

Adachi-san, he bites down into silence, this might be more difficult than I expected. The A-word sits heavily on his tongue because it’s so damn easy to say, and something he delights in hearing.

He turns his attention to the ground instead. Even with the support of a flashlight, it’s hard to make out colors - rain streaks white across everything he can see. Crouching helps, but lands wet slaps against his knees as the wind pushes field grass into him. In his fantasies, Yu spends hours carefully examining each flower before floating to the next, choosing the best possible bouquet for his pillow.

That’s probably not happening tonight. Grimacing, Yu readjusts his umbrella and stands back up.

“You’re going deeper in? Really?” Adachi calls out, disapproving. “I was planning to stay by the car, but if you’re dead serious about not answering, how am I supposed to keep an eye on you? We’re still on the lookout for a murderer, you know.”

So he’ll just have to make up for it in other ways. Yu marches over, grabs Adachi’s paperwork-cramped hand, and pulls him into the field.

There’s a huff behind him, but not an annoyed one. “Not going to make this easy, huh? Just like your uncle.”

Yu stares determinedly ahead, pulse quickening and flashlight sweeping for something to catch his eye. Holding Adachi’s hand means the umbrella is awkwardly held up in the crook of one elbow; it slips a little here and there, but that’s more than acceptable.

Tactile contact has him distracted until the flashlight reveals a patch of colored something. Adachi doesn’t comment, seemingly content to let him drive the show (but couldn’t he have at least pointed them out?). Yu drags them over.

It’s a bright orange flower. Yu’s no plant person, so that’s as far as his identification goes. Bright orange with beautiful petals and on a tall, tall plant, is this even a wildflower? But it’s in the wild, so it must be.

Should he just… snap the flower off? Or does the whole stem need to come with? Not for the first time, Yu wonders if he should’ve tried harder in his youth to look up the specifics of this ritual of love.

“Pftoohey,” he hears Adachi complain, spitting to the side after a particularly violent gust blows elevated orange flowers right into his mouth. “Bleh. What’re you waiting for, Yu-kun? They’re attacking me!”

Yu swallows his laugh, though he can’t stop his lips from twitching. He reaches out a hand -

“Though now that I think about it, I guess it’s illegal to pick them, huh?”

Illegal? His head swivels in question, but Adachi looks remarkably unconcerned.

“This area’s protected,” the police officer shrugs, scuffing his toe with fake interest into the squelching, sticky mud. He irritably waves the flowers away from his face. “Lots of river corridors and foothills in the basins. That means no picking, y’know? Can’t have the natural wildlife dying out. And since I’m a cop, I’m supposed to enforce that.”

Yu shoots him an annoyed look. He couldn’t have said that earlier? But Adachi just yawns into his free hand, blinking blearily into the torrential rain beating both their forms.

It feels too late to back out now. He’s got Adachi with him, holding hands, willing to help him with a little love advice. They’re both soaked, despite their best (or half-hearted) efforts otherwise. The dark is reserved for more intimate touch, and Adachi’s fingers had almost slipped into his mouth.

Snap. Yu has enough shame to send a quick mental apology to the plant in question, but the stem yields easily under his fingernails. Orange petals, once buffeted in the wind, tuck carefully into his chest. When he looks over, his breath catches.

Adachi looks pleased. It’s not there for long, dulling into sleepy helpfulness soon enough, but he seems happy that - what? Yu broke the law? Or is it because Yu wants to continue holding his hand?

It needs to be the latter. Yu tightens his grip, pulling Adachi closer.

“What- Hey!” Adachi laughs, yelping as he’s brought shoulder to shoulder, wet from his raincoat touching and seeping instantly into Yu’s school clothes.

This feels good. Side by side, Yu determinedly leads them back towards the car.

Or so he thinks, but at some point, Adachi sighs and pulls him in a different direction. “Car’s this way, dumbass.”

Yu nearly opens his mouth again, but catches himself - something Adachi seems to expect. “You really are serious. Whoever you’ve got your sights on might file a restraining order, you know.”

It’s you, Adachi-san, Yu bites out easily in his head. Always easy to think, never easy to say, and if it’s present in his eyes at all, Adachi doesn’t notice, face turning forward again to drag them along.

“Ah, well.” One moment they’re in the dark; the next, the car is suddenly there, lit by the flashlight. “Gotta be young and do stupid things once, right? Can’t help but wonder if you can actually pull this off. Then again, it’s you, so.”

Their hands finally detach. Yu briefly mourns the loss, but soon has his hands full fumbling to shut the umbrella without dropping the flashlight or crushing the flower. But if he holds it like that, then he’s got no hands free to quickly open the car door, and Adachi’s passenger seat will get absolutely soaked.

“Even if you can’t even ask for help right now.” Adachi snuck back around to this side of the car while he wasn’t looking; now he crowds under his umbrella (which is nowhere near big enough for the two of them), now he’s sliding off the bright yellow of his raincoat, now he’s taking and giving one after another, snaking Yu’s arms through the holes of the raincoat. The flashlight is of no help at all, showing everything that isn’t important.

Now Adachi backs away, umbrella in hand, assessing the fit of his raincoat against his form.

It’s warm. Yu shivers.

Then the world goes dark. Adachi yanked the hood over his head. Yu gingerly pulls it back up, water dripping down his bangs in the process. As far as the ability to spot flowers goes, it’s worse this way, but now he has a free hand to utilize. Tradeoffs.

(It’s very warm.)

Inside the car, Adachi presses the illicit, love-seeking orange flower back into his hand. “So? Where to next?”

His map is supposed to have numbers on it, little circles drawn in permanent marker, but the integrity of paper is quite poor in stormy weather and looks on the verge of falling apart. Still, Yu tries.

Adachi’s hand curls up, capturing the finger attempting to write into his palm. “Writing is circumvention, and circumvention is cheating. Do you really want to have a cheater of a soulmate?”

Yu rarely ever rolls his eyes, but feels the urge to now. He exhales instead, tilting his head in question. Then what do you suggest, Adachi-san?

Adachi’s fingers tap against the steering wheel. “Guess you’ll have to leave it up to me, Yu-kun. Isn’t that right?”

The detective is preening a bit too much. It fills Yu with affection anyway. He nods, clutching the flower a little closer.

⛆⛆⛆

“Good thing there’s no thunder,” Adachi muses, looking around the hilltop. “Hazard pay or no, I don’t really want anything to do with lightning.”

Not that there’s anything to see. Different location, same weather - Inaba is simply getting pummeled tonight. Yu squeezes his fingers in appreciation and tries not to react when something squeezes him back.

This is dangerous. Ozone might be absent, but the air is charged anyway, and every passing interaction has Yu wondering how much the older man will let him get away with tonight.

It’s dangerous, but moving to Inaba has turned him into something of an adrenaline junkie, and if he’s reading the atmosphere right, Adachi is interested. Next move decided, Yu flicks the flashlight up.

There’s a small purple flower with five rounded petals on the rock next to them. If Yu strains to reach it, he might succeed, but it would be safer if he were a little… higher.

“You’re the one holding the flashlight,” Adachi points out. “If you fall, you could be in serious trouble. How am I supposed to keep track of you up there? Just grab one of the ones down here.”

Yu tugs on their shared hands; the detective sticks out his lower lip. “No way. I’m not climbing up that.”

A few more fruitless tugs occur before Yu gives up. He reaches behind him instead, and places Adachi’s hand on his butt.

Not that it’s easy to feel under three layers of clothes, but the steady pour of rain speaks volumes. When Adachi’s hand starts to pull away, he snatches it and puts it right back.

This time, the hand stays. Then it squeezes, and Yu bites his lip, because Adachi isn’t letting go.

Contrary to his grip, his voice is shaky. “Go on, then.”

Short sentence, but definitely off balance - Yu crows internally, then reaches for the top of the rock. Mud cakes his fingers (and the rain makes it hard to get a grip), but that’s okay, because as he moves upwards, Adachi’s curious hand slides down his raincoat, down his leg, and the ensuing adrenaline makes Yu feel like he can do anything.

Adachi shouldn’t be able to see in the pelting rain, not when Yu’s the one holding a flashlight to locate the base of the tiny flower’s stem - it’s not that short, there’s still a solid 50 cm of plant to deal with - but when he moves to pluck it, Adachi’s hand slides under the raincoat, before squeezing his cheek appreciatively and settling.

Adachi-san he mouths but doesn’t say, though it’s a very close thing, and perhaps the detective knows it, because he squeezes again, and Yu hangs his head. Water is getting everywhere.

But this is only the second flower and Yu is determined to see this through, so it’s with disciplined regret that he pulls himself up a little higher and snaps the stem. When he slides back down to the ground, knuckles brush against his cheek from a hand previously groping his asscheek.

“Well, that’s two,” Adachi says cheerfully, but as they head back the way they came (once again requiring assistance - surely Yu can’t be this directionally challenged?), Adachi’s hand settles on his back, rather than his hand.

“Your hands are caked in mud,” he points out, amused. “I’m not holding that. Still need to keep you safe, though. Right?”

His hand drifts south again. When Yu doesn’t push away, there’s another sigh, and another appreciative squeeze.

⛆⛆⛆

There’s a towel kept in the back, among other supplies. Nimble fingers wipe down the mud while the door stays open. Water gets everywhere.

“Well? What’re you waiting for?” Adachi holds his hand out like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “There’s a stream somewhere in this one, you know.”

Not that a full-on river dunk would make much of a difference at this point. Summer temperatures haven’t set in a chill yet, but Adachi is offering his hand, and Yu intends to capitalize on it.

What time is it? He should check. But he’s already allowing himself to get pulled out of the car, cellphone long forgotten. Something strange is in the air.

“Hey, I know this one,” Adachi calls out, pulling Yu excitedly towards him to look. Except there’s mud underneath, and Yu slips, and suddenly he’s spinning but not falling, caught in the arms of another.

“Knew, I guess,” he corrects, because Yu’s big dumb foot stomped right in the poor flower’s face. He’s committing all sorts of crimes today.

A moment of hesitation - then Adachi’s head comes down, resting against his shoulder. “You’re such a goddamn tease. Was any of what you said true? Or did you just need someone to lay hands on you tonight?”

It’s obvious the detective is reading his body language in lieu of his mouth, and up to this point, correctly to boot. Yu swallows, carefully bringing up his free hand to the detective’s hair.

Half-wet, half-dry; the wind has gotten most of the roots, but his hair was messy enough to begin with that it fails to hold at the tips. Adachi stiffens at contact, but quickly sags. “Not gonna tell me, huh?”

I’m telling you, Yu tries to convey. I want to tell you with words. But I’m not sure you’ll believe me.

Something yellow catches his eye in his periphery. Carefully, without completely dislodging the older man, Yu sinks to his knees, trying to bring Adachi down to crouch with him. Adachi’s grip on the umbrella is rather loose, but this close to the ground, a small dome forms, sheltering the five-petaled yellow flower between them from the storm.

“So there was another one.” Another breathless laugh. “You know, this one’s usually considered a weed. Sure you want to include it in your little bundle of hopes and dreams?”

Yu nods into his body, and reaches down.

⛆⛆⛆

The rest of the fields lie on the opposite side of town. Inaba is as silent as the dead as Adachi’s cruiser cleaves through it.

Pit. Pat. Water drips off his face and onto Adachi’s borrowed raincoat. Yu worries at his lip, trying to clamp down his rampaging giddiness. Dirt and mud have nothing on the degeneracy of pulling the hood lower, silently inhaling and trying to discern Adachi’s scent.

No such luck. Inaba is blanketed in a fine mist. Someone might show up on the Midnight Channel tonight.

Adachi glances up at the telephone pole. Or maybe he’s looking at the last bit of signage out of Inaba’s east exit. “Sure you want to keep on going? You’re already soaked. You can still turn back, you know.”

Midnight isn’t too far off. Yu taps the time, then jerks his chin down the road.

Air blows out of Adachi’s mouth, breezy and boyish. “Alright. Remember, you asked for this, Yu-kun.”

And he did. They’re back to handholding, though their bodies bump unnecessarily close together, tripping and stumbling in their search for togetherness. The wind howls and beats at their backs, forcing them tighter together. The umbrella looks like it’s about to invert at any moment. Yu squeezes his hand.

“What, you found something?” Adachi shouts, because anything quieter is lost to the squall. He’s got an arm around his shoulder now, steadying them both as Yu bravely tries to grab hold of the blurry white flower whipping in the wind. His hands are wet. They might be freezing.

That’s never stopped him, though. Yu fumbles with the flashlight and shows his companion the new flower.

Adachi’s eyebrows furrow in a funny sort of way. “That’s not a daisy, Yu-kun.”

No, it isn’t, Yu agrees; this is the weed that crops up wherever the city is rundown. It’s poor-man’s grass, but its flowers are pretty, and what should he do when a single stalk has three heads growing on it? His fingers slip a few times, chilled from the onslaught of rain despite the humidity around them, until finally, one of the heads plucks clean off.

He tucks it in Adachi’s hair.

The detective’s hand comes up to feel it. Its position is precarious, just as likely to fall out as it is to blow away into the sky. It looks - good, and he’s not complaining, and Yu swallows, because he’s always thought Adachi looks cute in his surprise.

He tries to put the other spare flower in his own hair, but it slips from his fingers in an instant. Now he’s down to one, and while that was the goal, he’s still a little disappointed.

Fwoosh. Hands he’s become familiar with yank down his hood, exposing the part not covered by the umbrella to the rain. They’re warmer than his now, making room where his bangs meet his ear, doing something he can’t discern until Adachi backs away. His expression is unreadable, but when he turns his head away, Yu thinks that might be pink crawling up his ears. He tries to slip into Adachi’s periphery -

“Idiot, it’ll blow off like that,” Adachi says, a mutter in the wind, pushing and yanking Yu back shoulder to shoulder, umbrella descending to try and protect the valueless weed. “Looks better on you. Would be a waste to lose it now.”

Then he’s carefully tugging the hood of the raincoat back up, tucking it over and around all the necessary bits and bobs. “Look at you. You’re halfway there.”

Yu pulls them to their feet. He thinks he might be smiling.

⛆⛆⛆

“Dojima-san definitely doesn’t know about this,” Adachi decides as the car doors slam shut. Field #5 has a ditch that has Yu stepping clear over it, and Adachi complaining how much shorter his own legs are in comparison. “I know he’s home tonight.”

Yu just stares, because his thoughts are doing all the talking. Adachi-san, you could pull off being a model if you tried. Let’s start with my sweater.

A hand aggressively comes down on his head, ruffling his bangs, but steering clear of the flower. “Don’t change the subject. Did you really go out the front door? Or do you often sneak out the second floor when it’s raining?”

Yu exhales but keeps his silence, marveling at the sensation. The last time someone touched his scalp was when his mother told him he did a good job waiting at home alone the entire week they were out at a conference.

That was several conferences ago. Yu nudges the older man with his elbow, then aims the flashlight up. Boing, boing, boing…

Adachi snickers as he watches. “I can’t believe this. You really are a little troublemaker! Sure you want to give me free ammo like that?”

He just tilts his head at that, enraptured by the way Adachi’s eyes catch in the flashlight. He looks like he’s having fun. He looks like he’s stumbled across something worth watching. Yu needs to keep it this way.

Hence the continued head tilting. Adachi’s face twists through a variety of expressions, landing on exasperation. “I don’t know what excuse you think you’re giving, but it won’t work.”

Or so he says, but he’s grinning when Yu finds an indigo-colored bell-shaped cluster, all the way up to when he missteps into the ditch by the car, cussing out his now drenched foot.

⛆⛆⛆

He’s never paid this much attention to rain before. Out in the elements, there’s a lot more physical evidence; every towel is soaked, a strange musty smell permeates through the inside of the cruiser, and unexpectedly, Adachi’s radio is going.

“Vehicle 4, still no abnormalities,” Adachi calls in. He’s breathing a little heavier because the wind in this area nearly knocked them both over. Yu’s got a tiny clover flower clutched in his hands - white, familiar, and the closest thing in reach. “Continuing eastbound for, uh… another 10 minutes. Yep.”

Then the car shakes, wind howling outside as pricks of rain beat against the windshield. Put in another perspective, and they’re almost like stars. Dripping, drooping stars.

To his right, Adachi ends the transmission, then sighs. After a while, he looks over. “What?”

Yu just shrugs his shoulders, continuing to stare.

“It’s too much trouble to bring you up,” Adachi answers his unsaid question, leaning against the seat to stare back. “Besides, who’d believe me?”

An evasive answer. He reaches over and taps on Adachi’s shoulder. “Mmn?”

When his eyes wander: “The windshield? Nothing’s wrong with it.”

Yu leans forward a bit, staring at the little sea of stars. He reaches for Adachi’s hand. Reciprocation takes a couple of seconds. It feels nice. They’re in a cocoon. They’re both still soaked.

Soft, small caresses. His thumb strokes his skin, movements tiny as if he can’t quite believe Yu is real.

“…It’s a flood out there, alright,” Adachi says, watching the rain. His voice is a little distant. It sounds like there’s something else he wants to say, but it never makes it out.

⛆⛆⛆

Now it does. Adachi’s hand is still on his own, having not let go the entire jaunt over to this final field. The car doors are locked. Yu can’t get out.

“There’s someone I like,” Adachi mimics, tightening his grip. The flashlight sits between them, off and forgotten. “Yu-kun. Forget about magic. Just pick me. That’s what you really want, right? You’re trying to get attention. You set me up from the start. Do you even know what you look like right now?”

Flushed, no doubt. None of this was part of his half-cocked plan, even if he’s enjoying the results. But while the words are close to what he wants to hear, there’s still a tinge of fear. It reminds him, strangely, of Ebihara. Acting rashly may be unwise.

Yu fruitlessly tugs on the door handle again.

“Don’t be so coy,” Adachi simpers, voice hardening afterward. “You didn’t need to try to go through all these - extra steps. So? Which is it?” He’s looming over now, and Yu’s adjusted enough to the dark to make out his outline. “Did you really think you could turn me into one of your side whores? Or did you just want to be used?”

If getting his dick wet was the only goal, Yu would’ve undressed in the rain and let nature take care of it. Irritation swells, but frustration even more so. Adachi seems ready for a fight or a fuck, and not much in between. This might take some finesse, and he hopes he isn’t making a massive mistake.

Click. His seatbelt undone, Yu uncoils himself from the somewhat cramped passenger seat and begins crawling over, until he’s awkwardly pushing up against the policeman, silently egging him to push his seat back with a hiss, hands coming to settle on his hips. Adachi’s fervered grin falters when all Yu does is flop down on him, as opposed to kissing his rain-stained lips.

“What’re you doing,” Adachi says flatly when he just lies there, dead weight breathing against his neck. Hands come up to try and massage his ass; Yu pins his arms down. “Hey, watch it. You’re heavy.”

Yu nods against his neck, waiting for his heart rate to settle. Adachi squirms underneath him, unsure of what he’s doing and impatient for something to happen; Yu takes pity and jabs the unlock.

The sound of rain intensifies once more as the door opens; he slides off Adachi’s body onto the water-overrun ground, taking him by the hand to drag him up as the umbrella opens overhead.

He holds up the six-going-on-seven flowers in Adachi’s face, and waits. Rain crashes down around them, ricocheting off metal and umbrella both.

The body against his is warm.

“Fuck. I get it,” Adachi says into his hand, wiping it down his face. “You’re such a romanticist. Times are changing, Yu-kun. Chivalry is dead. You don’t want to get left behind.”

But he doesn’t protest further, allowing Yu to drag him by the hand once again. The atmosphere is a bit muted; it may as well be the saddest flower-picking ever seen in the region. There weren’t even jokes about the tongue-looking flower, found a ways in, though Adachi had scoffed when he tickled his cheek with it.

They drive back in silence.

⛆⛆⛆

For all the running around they’ve done tonight, pulling up to the Dojima household feels the most exhausting of them all. Midnight is just around the corner. Yu’s feet feel like lead.

Adachi’s displeasure is missing. His walls are already back up, leaning against the wheel with that familiar, vapid smile. “Yu-kun, I helped you out a lot tonight, right? Please don’t tell your uncle what we did. Tit for tat and all that.”

It’s the out he’s been hinting at, if not outright asking for. Problem is, Yu can’t seem to move.

He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to take up Adachi on his earlier offer - just with everything else he wants, too. And the only way he can think of getting that across is to pull the other man across the central console, then collapse against him. Adachi stiffens, but Yu ignores the reaction, opting to close his eyes instead.

In, out.

Any moment now.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Adachi says, the something beneath his facade creeping back in. “You’re better off staying with me tonight.”

He waits for the excuses to come, but they never arrive. No Dojima-san will tan me if Nanako-chan sleeps poorly or You’ll track mud through the house, better wash that off first. Adachi simply stares, eyes boring holes as his hand crawls over his own, urging his eyes open.

When Yu squeezes him back, he finally looks away. “Just remember, Yu-kun. You asked for this.”

⛆⛆⛆

Interlocking fingers, through the locked door; Adachi’s apartment is annoyingly up the stairs, but Inaba fails to witness their flight.

Or the subsequent shucking of shoes, socks, and everything the rain has touched, which happens to be everything. Adachi is less touchy than expected in the bath, but even with an appreciative grope here and there, little trails that leave Yu feeling residual burns, the other man is clearly angling for something else. Too much, too fast, he’s still trying to compute the fact that Adachi’s dick had been half-hard in the shower as he stands dumbly on the floorboards, towel in hand, lights still out because the detective seems to revel in Yu stubbing his toe against unfamiliar corners.

“What size are you?” Adachi’s tone is conversational as he flicks through his lacking pieces of loungewear, even while Yu hobbles and holds onto his shoulder in pain. “Let’s see if you fit. Arms up. …Haha.”

It’s a summertime top. Adachi’s underwear is a bit uncomfortable on his person, but nicely so, and something he picks up on, leering over as he plucks the elastic band a few times, watching it snap against Yu’s waist.

Then he’s grabbing Yu by the waist, leading him and his waterlogged little bundle over to the elevated bed.

“You’ll sleep here,” Adachi explains, eyes daring him to say otherwise. “Guess your little spell’s going to be under my head, too. That gonna be a problem?”

It’s raining, and it’s almost midnight. The Midnight Channel might come on. He should check it. Adachi shouldn’t. Tonight’s magic is already spoken for, and what if the detective wakes him up, yelping in surprise as the TV shows off a silhouette that isn’t his? He should unplug the TV -

Adachi pushes him onto the bed. Yu lands ungracefully and almost immediately has to roll over to make room for the adult planning on sharing the same sheets. “That’s right, Yu-kun. Go to sleep. …And no talking, right?”

Then silence. Adachi’s arm is loosely thrown against his own, and from the swell of his chest behind him, the man seems to have knocked out instantly. Even with his knee unhelpfully lodged between Yu’s bare legs, and couldn’t he have given him some shorts? The pillow wasn’t made for two; Yu’s neck complains, but moving too much would wake up the weight right behind him.

Adachi sleeps; Yu struggles to sleep. It goes against everything he’s done tonight; shouldn’t he be dead tired? Adachi must have known what these sleeping arrangements would do to him. His eyes open and close fruitlessly in succession, stirrings of want keeping his heart rate high. When he does drift off, it’s to fitfulness, unsure if his dead-tired brain is playing tricks on him or showing him the truth.

Because those are hands trailing up and down his body, heavy weight pressing into him with a sudden, awful feeling of confinement. It’s a wet dream, perhaps spurned on by the rain, perhaps by his sluggish, fevered thoughts, Adachi’s familiar slouching body coming in and out of focus, facial features smeared and indistinct. The face he loves is like this, warped under familiar, unsalvageable hair. No, not that either. His face is…

…something he’s having trouble concentrating on when fingers trace down his torso, stopping just short of where blood has gathered the most. They pause, curious and considering, before slyly tiptoeing down his interest.

It’s all too much. Where rain once traveled, now sweat takes its place; Yu’s swirling thoughts are unsure if the sounds he’s hearing are his. Everything builds to a peak, one completely out of his control, until his vision goes white.

⛆⛆⛆

Adachi has a digital alarm clock on his nightstand. The red numbers blink back at him, partially obscured: 05:08.

Yu blinks in confusion, trying to get his bearings. He’s barely on the pillow anymore, cheek crammed against the sheets, and someone else is across from him, hair sticking up every which way. The storm has passed. Light trickles in from somewhere.

The feeling of wetness has him snaking his hand down to feel…

Well. Judging from the sticky state of his borrowed underwear, he had a little too much fun last night. Judging from Adachi’s salacious grin, he already knows.

The adult police detective shifts against his side of the pillow, getting comfortable as he drinks in Yu’s mortified teenage form. “So? See anyone last night?”

Yu’s hand reaches up to his temple and comes away sweaty. Temperature regulation is poor, and proximity to Adachi isn’t helping for multiple reasons.

“I think so,” he mutters, trying to sort his languid thoughts together. His throat is dry from disuse, but his body feels pleased, even if he can’t quite pin why. “I saw… a person, and then a face. No, I know who I saw. It was-”

“-me,” Adachi interrupts, watching Yu’s arm lower in confusion. “You saw me, right, Yu-kun?”

He saw a lot more than that, but when Yu gives a slow nod, the detective finally moves, dragging him on his side to fully face one another.

“I tried to make you think of me,” Adachi says, grinning, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “All man-made tricks. Looks like that worked just fine.”

Man-made? “What are you talking about, Adachi-san?”

“Oh, you know.” Adachi beckons Yu closer, then leans over into his ear. “You let me in real easy last night. The foreplay was a little too long, honestly, but I knew you just wanted to spread your legs.”

His adductors ache, yes, but is that from grinding the leg in his dreams for too long, or something else entirely? “You don’t mean…”

Fingers trace up and down his exposed arms, their motions familiar. “Just a little bit of touch and you bent right over. Also, what was with all that sniffing? Weirdo. ...Oh well. At least it made you think of me.”

“My dreams weren’t like that.”

“You can lie to yourself however you want, Yu-kun,” Adachi mocks. “Doesn’t change that you’re a slut. You kept harping about this lovey-dovey so-called magic, but all you really wanted was a cock rammed up your ass. Well? It felt good, didn’t it?” He twists his finger idly in Yu’s bangs. “You poor bastard. Aren’t you glad you found out that soulmates aren’t real?”

It’s rejection, clear as day. Adachi will laugh this off as a one-night stand, Yu will nervously smile, and they’ll return to being distanced at the Dojima family table, newfound distrust seeping into Yu’s bones.

Yu shoves Adachi off the pillow and looks underneath.

The flowers were hard to see in the downpour, but they had been pretty, he’s sure. Now they’re indecipherable, smushed and smeared into the sheets, browned and torn apart from Yu’s tossing and turning.

Adachi pokes the pile of compostable mush and dramatically shudders. “Eugh. Friendly tip: don’t do that to your next lay. It’s sickening.”

Yu’s hand shoots out to capture Adachi’s sleeve. “It might still be true, Adachi-san. The magic. I liked you before any of this.”

Adachi freezes, then yanks his arm away, protectively cradling his sleeve. His eyes narrow. “So you’re like that.”

Ambiguous and purposefully hurtful, just like everything else the man’s done this morning. Yu tries to push through it. “Yes, Adachi-san. You are, too. You didn’t need to go so far to try and push me away.”

Now the man sits up; now he’s quickly buttoning his shirt. “And you’re creeping after me like a freak. You think you like me. That’s disgusting, Yu-kun.”

“I’m not a bug.” Yu’s not unfazed, but he can’t say he’s too surprised. The other man gives token resistance as he grabs his arm again. “Adachi-san might be a moth, though.”

He’s not looking at him. “Don’t try to parrot me. Look, you were just experimenting, and you got your fun, so get out of my apartment already.”

“Adachi-san.”

He pathetically shakes his captured arm again. “You can thank me with that beer Dojima-san keeps in the back, you know the one. I don’t need to tell you to keep quiet, right?”

“Adachi-san.”

“What.”

“Adachi-san,” Yu says, pulling the man down again, “I’m serious about you.”

Bullseye. He’s found a weak point. Adachi tenses -

- then sags.

“You’re not going to leave even if I throw you out.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“That’s a crime, and I’m an officer. Sure you want to say that again?”

“You like me too, Adachi-san. I know you do.”

He deflates further, hands raised to his face. “You’re not supposed to be serious. Why can’t you just be a horny teenager?”

“I am a horny teenager,” Yu says, frowning. “But I also like you very much. Romantically. Sexually too-”

“I get it! Sheesh!” Adachi buries his face deeper into his pillow.

Yu turns him over and begins peeling his hands away. “May I look at you?”

“No,” Adachi grumbles, though he doesn’t resist, allowing fingers to pluck one by one off his face, revealing the reddened face on the verge of tears.

Something stirs inside him at the sight. “Can I-?”

Adachi shrugs, but his protests are half-hearted when Yu leans down to kiss his forehead, then his cheeks, marveling at his shivering compliance. Up until he’s pushed away, at least.

Though Adachi’s still holding onto his arm, staring upwards as they lay next to each other.

“…Your body should be fine.” He sounds odd, half-there. “That was supposed to get you to back off. I kept it over clothes only.”

“But you still molested me in my sleep,” Yu says.

“And you’ve got no proof of it,” Adachi says, blinking at the ceiling. “So? Why’re you still here? If attempted rape is your idea of a romantic first date, then you need help.”

He’s a cat, claws out, damage done, hissing and backed into a corner. Yu’s almost surprised.

“Let’s go back a few steps,” Yu suggests, reaching for the floral sludge in between them. “Adachi-san, you’re scared of the concept of soulmates. You actually believe in it, more than I do.”

“Do I, now.”

“I don’t think you wanted me to finish the ritual last night, because you were afraid of saying yes.” Yu shimmies a little closer, petal gunk getting into his hair, Adachi’s eye watching from the corner distrustfully. “You knew my confession was coming. You just didn’t want it to be because of some higher power.”

Adachi exhales listlessly. “Think you’ve figured me out already, huh? I don’t even need to talk?”

“As if you didn’t do the same last night,” Yu points out. “There’s more to communication than just words. I mean it. Last night was fun, Adachi-san.”

“And you’re annoying.” But his neck tells a different story, one that has Yu’s lips upturning.

He props himself on an elbow, staring down Adachi’s vulnerable but defiant form. “How about you take me on a date? To the bookstore.” When the other’s eyebrows scrunch: “You can help me find out if I’ve cursed myself by cheating with your car instead of walking. Or teach me a magic trick you prefer instead.”

Still no response, so he pulls out his trump card. “Please, Adachi-san?”

Adachi stares at him critically for several long seconds. Then he pulls away, getting on his feet.

A shirt is thrown in Yu’s face. “Just get dressed.”

⛆⛆⛆

The trip back to the Dojima household is silent. It’s a school day. He’ll have to wear gym clothes. Text messages flood his phone. Kujikawa was on the Midnight Channel last night, and is Yu finally done with his weird-whatever errand so they can talk?

“Why haven’t you tossed that,” Adachi complains, glancing at the pile of petal mush sitting in a tissue on Yu’s lap.

Yu looks out the window. “Apparently they can be turned into bath salts.” So Yukiko said.

Adachi grunts noncommittally, the conversation lulls, and all too quickly, the familiar tiling of Uncle Ryo’s house comes into view. The car slows down to a stop on the incline. Yu glances over but gets no response.

He opens the door.

“You won’t find it in the bookstore here.” A vague wave of the hand, tone carefully neutral. “Scandinavian stuff. It’s more specialized, but I know a place. You can come with.”

Yu is suddenly very alert. “Is that a date?”

Adachi rubs at his face. “It won’t be if you ask again. Just so you know, you did mess up. Solstice Eve is this Friday. And you’re supposed to get naked and roll around in fresh dew.”

“I’m not so sure.” Yu grins, watching the other man grumble and flush. “I don’t think I messed up at all.”