Momotani Jiro - Tumblr Posts

Gnashing Silver, Warm Gold (Donbrothers fanfic)

Summary:

When a regular battle between Sonoi and Momoi goes wrong, the cerebran is very surprised to find a certain tiger running to step in and help their shared rival.

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

It shouldn’t have happened, it had never happened before, why would something so happenstance occur now? Momoi and Sonoi alike were both top class warriors, practically unmatched aside from each other and when on even footing, both were almost perfectly even in skill and strength. In their fights they tended to isolate away a bit, every squirmish and struggle a private duel that their comrades respected and left to its own conclusion without interference usually. They had done away with declaring it as such, for if so they’d have the pomp and circumstance almost every day and that would be too ostentatious for even Sonoi’s tastes, though Momoi might have enjoyed it. Regardless, they were equals and fought fairly with all they had, they’d never slipped up in that regard ever since Sonoi had righted his wrong early on in their ritual of combat. So then how did it come to this?

It was a fluke really, something that could happen to anyone, not that Momoi Taro was anyone though. They were fighting in the rocky quarry a bit past the city limits, an abandoned construction site from years ago that lent itself almost too perfectly to their fights with little damage people would notice. For today it was just them, the other’s having finished their group battle already and taking their leaves as they had grown accustomed to their leaders going late into the evening if given the chance. They had let themselves as always get lost in the ebb and flow of each other's routine of strikes and punches and flips that they'd come to expect of each other.

Sonoi had defended a sword strike to his side, cleanly sidestepping in the next movement to flow into a jab at Momoi’s center. Momoi without hesitation threw himself down and back, his spine arching as he made to duck beneath it like some game of limbo. Sonoi expected he’d either allow himself to fully fall just to push himself up in a surge of movement to kick out at him or flip himself with the momentum and land back onto his feet ready for the next exchange. So when Momoi’s foot shoved out beneath him, sending him onto his back, he thought nothing of it at first, until the next moments were not following the rest of his expectations.

Momoi did not make to flip himself around nor did he kick out or laugh off the attack as usual. He had no witty banter or remarks and he had nothing to retaliate with. He was just…laying there, suddenly still. Sonoi stood there a few moments, not quite processing what had happened or if this was some new factor into their exchange. Another beat and it finally clicked that the other was not going to and maybe unable to rise on his own, and Sonoi was quick to ‘power down’ letting blue light flash and as it faded it took blue and silver armor away to leave human-like flesh and satin clothing behind. By the time his knees hit the ground next to Momoi, the man in question had also let his armor fade to his civilian clothes and lightly tanned skin. 

Momoi’s eyes were closed, lips slightly parted to allow a bit of reddened spit to drool out of the corner of his mouth at a crawl. That was enough to get him going and he moved to trail his fingers along the red ranger’s chest, checking for any noticeable injuries and moving his way up to check at the back of his neck and head. Before he could properly lift the other’s head to check however, he felt more than saw something running full speed directly at him. He jerked his head up and over to gauge his assailant but all he saw was a flash of white and gold before he felt himself get roughly body checked to the side, the force enough to make his body skid a couple feet into the grit below them to his displeasure. He scrambled to pick himself up, moving to hold himself up on his palms only to pause, the sight he was greeted with not something he ever expected again.

Momotani Jiro was crouched overtop of Momoi, on all fours like an animal and with the fallen leader between his limbs, the long white robe of the other curtained to hide Momoi away it seemed. He was staring directly at Sonoi, his eyes flashing silver and his teeth bared in a snarl that rumbled in his chest unlike what any other human had ever made in Sonoi’s experience. The red markings beneath his eyes that continued to his temple only made the fierce expression all the more striking. Sonoi didn’t really know much about the other members of the don brothers, it wasn't what his attention was drawn to, and with his comrades serving to latch onto others themselves he felt it balanced out enough. 

Momotani Jiro though was one he had heard bits and pieces about though, giving it the extra attention ever since their first meeting with the gold ranger almost excitedly cutting into his battle unwanted those months back. From what he had gathered, Jiro was not one man but two; for reasons unknown to him, Jiro’s mind had split at some point before he ever came across the don brothers and resulted in two different people in the same body. One was the man, no, boy he had first met and saw in passing offer childishly bright smiles and excitement to his teammates fairly often when they were together. He was always bouncing around Momoi like an excited puppy, eager for praise or attention it felt like in some way. 

Then there was… this Jiro; dangerous, all but feral, quick to lash out and taking no sides in the conflict other than latching onto a target. He spoke with a rough rasp to his voice, distinct and deeper than the other one despite sharing the same organs with which to speak. Somehow having the same face did nothing to make the two recognizable as each other however with everything else about them so starkly different. The other aimed to help and please, this one aiming to claim dominance and show his aggression. Sonoi idly wondered which came first of the two as he continued his staring contest with the beast of a man just a ways from him.

Jiro never broke eye contact, but he lowered himself closer to Momoi’s prone form beneath him, letting his cheek all but press against the other’s lips. Sonoi’s brows furrowed but Jiro grunted in the back of his throat, having found whatever it was he wanted in that and moved to then press his ear to Momoi’s chest.

Ah, he must have been checking to feel his breath then…

It seemed Momoi’s untamed beast had come to his aid, he must have stayed behind to watch their fight from a distance. It was odd, Sonoi hadn't been able to sense anyone nearby or feel what would have certainly been an intense stare that should have made him alert quickly. Perhaps it had been the other Jiro who had stayed and only once Momoi fell, they had switched? He had seen their swaps before in battle, it wasn't quite seamless but it was fast and unpredictable usually.

Jiro, having been pacified at least somewhat with Momoi’s assured breathing and heartbeat, let himself finally look away from the cerebrum, his gaze now fixed on the red clad man. He held his hands the way one would if they were endowed with claws, but even so he slid those hands along Momoi’s face to his neck, checking the back of the other’s neck and head as Sonoi had intended to begin with. He pulled a hand back and up close to his face, his nose scrunching and another growl that was almost a huff through his teeth rumbled from him. From the short distance away, Sonoi caught the smear of red against Jiro’s hands, and he grimaced along with the beast-man.

The helmet of the don brother “uniform” was considerably tough, not cracking or breaking even after all these fights. Not even scratched really. However, as good a job it did of protecting the skull and face, it didn’t do much in the back as it ended at a slant following the jaw of the wearer; it left the base of the skull easily accessible and the neck entirely expose, the white collar a simple cloth not proper armor like most the rest of what he wore in combat. Must have finally gotten unlucky it seemed and hit some of the rocks that scattered themselves amongst the sand and grit of the area, knocking him out. It wasn’t too serious most likely, but it was still an unnecessary thing nonetheless and Sonoi hated the idea of Momoi getting injured by something so trivial and unworthy of him.

He had taken Jiro’s break in attention as trust, and had made to stand up once more to approach the two, however when he was no higher than a rising crouch, Jiro’s attention darted right back to him with renewed fire, his teeth bared and an outright hiss coming from him. Sonoi grit his teeth together behind closed lips, frustrated but not wanting to do anything too rash in case this Jiro was not as tame or loyal as he was seeming in the moment. From what he could recall, this one wanted Momoi defeated if not dead under him. So he lowered himself back to the ground, this time kneeling and leaning on his hands instead and keeping his eyes level with the other’s.

“I just want to help him, he wasn't supposed to get hurt so I want to help him and make sure it isn't too bad.”

Jiro, twitched his head, his neck cracking as if releasing stiff tension loudly in the quiet between them and he ghosted a “clawed” hand over his throat. His lips quirked into a sneer, looking down at Sonoi in disapproval.

“Last time, you were the one who hurt him. Almost died, I couldn't help him so I had to leave him to someone else. I don't plan to do that twice.”

Sonoi blinked a few times, trying to hide his bewilderment at the accusation. It was…well, true, objectively. He hasn't quite been himself, but regardless it was still him who had left Momoi to die at the end of their last official duel. It had been this Jiro who had retrieved him though? 

“That was an honorable duel, we agreed on it and he lost then. This was an accident though, nothing more.”

Jiro snorted, clearly unconvinced and he scratched roughly at his neck, purposefully cut blunt nails still trying their best to dig into the skin of his own throat rather aggressively. Sonoi could have winced at it, feeling his own skin itch beneath his high feathered collar when he tried to imagine the sensation out of habit. 

“He’s my prey, and we’re not ready to have our fight yet. He can't die, not even when I win. I won't let anyone try to change that.”

“Not even when you win?” 

Jiro bared his teeth as he spoke. “I want him to see my victory, and see me be the best. I want him to see Jiro take his place and be a better leader than he is, stronger than him.”

Sonoi hadnt meant to let the question pass his lips out loud, but the response he was given all the same intrigued him. Perhaps it wasn't just the other Jiro who was looking for attention and recognition. He was interested, but now isn't the time so he would have to broach this conversation again later if he ever got the chance. This Jiro did not often come out when they weren’t in battle and certainly not when they were all gathered as a group. The other one seemed much more adept and eager for groups and friendships than this one was and they swapped out accordingly.

Sonoi was intent on inching closer, waiting for Jiro to release him from this staredown once more, but he almost threw caution to the wind as he saw Jiro release the hand from his own throat just to quick as a viper reach down and place it over Momoi’s exposed neck instead. Once again as Sonoi moved, Jiro snarled animalistically, his voice not unlike the gravel and grit they were no doubt coated by at this point. 

“He’s. Mine.”

Jiro lifted his chin even further, glaring down in challenge at Sonoi and scooching his position to now once more use his coat sleeve as a barrier between the cerebrum and his other half. Sonoi opened his mouth to retort back, but he stopped to notice an odd behavior he hadn't noticed in Jiro: the way he held himself currently exposed the dip of his adams apple clearly, the collar unzipped to his clothes beneath so it offered no cover. He expected there to be scratches or even from how often the habit of digging his nails into himself seemed, and yet there was almost nothing. He wanted to test a theory, and though it debased him in ways he would be embarrassed to acknowledge, Jiro wasn't exactly a talker here and it if helped him to help Momoi faster, than he would try it.

He reached to his own feather collar, smoothing down the feather and tucking them into the shirt they poked out of and then pulling that garment too down to rest lower than intended to reveal his throat underneath. He heard a soft rumbling from Jiro, but it wasn't loud or as full of intent as before and the tilt of his head in curiosity encouraged him further. He tilted his head back and to the side, exposing and emphasizing his throat to the man mere feet from him; this was foolish and probably objectively dangerous if Jiro saw him as an enemy, which he was but that was a complicated layer of labels and decorum he didn't have time to think on.

“I want to help him, not hurt him further. I just want to check and make sure it isn't too serious, the impact could have just knocked him out but if it cut deeper in it might be worse than we can deal with out here. I wont hurt him…I too want a fair proper duel with him, i won't take advantage of him like this.” He quashed the urge to sniff out how it would be unbecoming of a warrior like him, but he was trying to ease Jiro down to trusting him not to rile him further with challenge. This had drawn off long enough as it was.

At first he didn't get much of a response, watching Jiro’s gaze go between himself and Momoi below. However after a few moments, he groaned loudly and he moved himself down to sit overtop of Momoi’s abdomen and he moved his arm to lay more flat against the red ranger’s chest so the “barrier” of cloth was out of the way. He then jerked his head towards Momoi, and Sonoi took no time in obliging the permission as he definitely did not scuttle   crawled his way forward to now kneel beside Momoi’s head. He slid his hands behind Momoi’s head, lifting it carefully and probing along the back of his skull downwards to check for where he was hurt.

He could feel a slight bump at the base of his skull, right where the helmet’s lip would have ended, and the skin there was tender. He hummed to himself thoughtful and he wiped his palm down the back of the other neck, pulling away to have only a small amount of actual blood come away and more flakes of dried blood come off from where it had stuck to skin before.

“He’s not hurt too badly, he was just struck in an unlucky place. The cut is more superficial and isn't bleeding hardly anymore i dont think, so he’ll likely wake up on his own with a migraine. I don't even think he’ll have a concussion from this, not that one would stop him for long most likely. He’s stubborn, like a stone in the ocean standing strong against the waves at its sides.”

Jiro didn't make any move to respond or acknowledge him, but his intense gaze wasn't on him at this close so maybe that was the preferable option. He slid himself without moving from his kneeling position, dragging himself to the side until his lap could serve as a pillow for the other’s head. Once warm brown locks found themselves against silk blue pants, Sonoi let himself relax a bit and returned to studying the man now sitting vigil with him out here. He still hadn't removed his hand from Momoi’s throat, but at this close he could see it wasnt with any pressure or violent intent. Rather, it seemed more like he was caging his hand like a barrier; he was guarding his weak point while he was unable to himself.

“Is that why you do that then?” He was answered with a confused sound that was closer to one of Sonoza’s yell’s than a verbal cue, but all the same he continued. “You keep your neck covered often as long as you have a free hand, especially when you’re close to people. Is it to guard yourself?”

Jiro didn't look up at him but his eyes narrowed, a sharp tooth worrying into his lip as he hesitated to respond.

“....Jiro exists to laugh with the people behind and ahead of us. I’m stronger and keep us safe, Jiro isn't ready to be the hero we’re supposed to be... Sometimes he isn't strong enough to keep us safe or the people he laughs with, but I am.”

Sonoi was surprised by the upfront answer, not quite used to the humans he inquired of giving him what he sought out when it came to understanding them. It seemed he had bridged some sort of gap he didn't know he would ever want to before today.

“Which of you came first?”

Jiro paused once more, a sound catching in his throat somewhere between a growl and a sigh.

“You ask too many questions…”

Sonoi tilted his head, interested to see if his patience or the other’s aggression won out. It seemed neither would though as he felt movement against his thighs, his shockingly blue gaze darting down to see Momoi Taro’s features scrunch up as he neared wakefulness. Jiro was quick to release his hold on the man, sliding even further down and away from him. Sonoi didn't give him much thought in the moment as a soft groan came past full lips and dark eyes fluttered open to stare back up at him. Momoi’s brows scrunched together in confusion, but he thankfully wasn't too startled and didn't try to fling himself up too quickly and risk knocking into Sonoi’s face.

“What happened?”

Sonoi offered a practiced smirk of amusement as he spoke, a teasing tone on his lips as if he wasn't worried a few dozen minutes before.

“It seems the great Don Momoi Taro was felled by a rock in the dirt. You hit your head just under your helmet when you fell and it knocked you out.”

Momoi sighed, raising a hand to wipe down his face in what might have been tired irritation.

“That’s...not the best way I've been hurt in battle.”

Sonoi chuckled and got his hands beneath Momoi’s shoulders, helping him to sit up slowly and adjust himself into a cross legged position. When he was sure he wouldn't topple, Sonoi let go, sitting back on his haunches. He glanced over to try and gauge what Jiro had been up to with how quiet he was in the passing last minutes, he was surprised to see soft features and golden bright eyes dusted pink as tears threatened to spill. Seeing Momoi was upright and awake, he all but launched himself forward to cling to Momoi’s shoulders, resting his forehead against the other’s chest.

“Taro-san~! I’m so glad you’re okay, I was so worried!”

His voice, though a bit thick with building tears, was light, youthful, and clear with a slight lilt to them as an accent edged into his words. Momoi stared at him a bit dumbly, glancing at Sonoi briefly before he awkwardly patted Jiro’s back in a stiff mimicry of comfort. He didn't look uncomfortable so much as out of practice, but it seemed enough as Jiro cried a bit more in earnest now and tightened his grip. Momoi let him, rubbing small circles into the space between his shoulder blades with an exasperated sigh.

“Alright, alright, I'm fine. Something like that won't be the death of me, I have too much to do. Besides,” he let a bit of a pout reach his lips and tinge his voice, serving to make Sonoi stifle a fond smile, “that would be an embarrassing way to die in combat.”

Jiro nodded into his chest in agreement, but when he reluctantly peeled himself back he was smiling dazzlingly bright and wide even with tears and snot on his face still. Sonoi noticed the lack of the other Jiro’s signature robe and his eyes seemed red only by natural means and not the makeup from earlier. He wondered to himself how exactly that worked, did it appear and disappear like their uniforms did?

“I’m sorry, i just- I saw you and you just didn't get back up and i was-i didn't know what to do so i just ran over to help, but i…”

Momoi gave him a confident smile, indulging him and patting his head both in comfort and to get his attention.

“55 points.”

Jiro’s eyes widened, his mouth agape in shock that seemed so much it jolted him from crying. He quickly wiped at his face to get as much of the tear stain from his cheeks and snot from his upper lip as he could before looking back at Momoi.

“55!?”

He grinned wide, throwing his arms up above his head in a cheer of sorts. Momoi sat back and let him as he threw himself into a ramble on how he was glad he could help and something about cooking dinner, something Momoi nodded along to so Sonoi assumed the boy’s food must certainly be good in such a case. He tuned out the words and more took in the expressions, fascinated by how strikingly different the two Jiro’s were out of battle as much as he had gotten to see them within it. He thought back to his earlier unanswered question, letting it sit in his mind once more as he saw how bright Jiro seemed to be all on his own with just the smallest of encouragement from his leader.

‘Ah, so that’s how it is. This one is so they can both feed that desire for approval then.’

“This is the one that can smile at those in front of them…”

He had once again not caught himself mumbling his thoughts aloud, garnering attention on him suddenly from both the don brothers around him. Momoi quirked an eyebrow in curiosity but did not voice it, not having the chance as Jiro was quick to reach forward and pat Sonoi firmly on the shoulder with a warm grin. Sonoi glanced to the point of contact before meeting golden eyes, intense but in their sincerity and warmth so much unlike the fierce cold silver of the other one’s.

“Sonoi was a big help, he knew better than I did for what to do, so thank you! Would you like to join us for dinner then? You liked Oden like Taro-san, yes? I can assure you mine isn't as good as Rumi-chan’s but she taught me the same recipe so it’s at least half as good as hers!”

Sonoi glanced at Momoi for help, unsure what to do with the invitation leveled his way. His dancing around their enemy status with Momoi was one thing, but this was entirely too forward and from someone he didn't even have the most interest in. However the warm gaze Sonoi saw Momoi give made him pause, considering what he wanted to outright decline without hesitation.

“Just say yes, his cooking is decent enough and his house is warm. He doesn’t stop talking much, but it isn't all bad.”

As much as it was a backhanded one, the compliment still made Jiro practically beam under the praise and at the excitement of what was to come. Sonoi sighed dramatically, putting a hand in front of his face for added effect and he nodded resolutely.

“Alright…Oden it shall be.”

Keeping His Promise (Donbrothers fanfic)

Summary:

When Haruka had asked Jiro to accompany her into town, she was expecting big smiles and maybe endearing but annoying comments of bravado to be her company. When instead she gets silver eyes and a snarl that no human should be able to make, she finds herself surprised in more than one way about her lesser known don brother.

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

Jiro hissed with his teeth clenched as he tried to sit up from his futon that morning. His arm hurt with an absolute burning intensity and he clutched at it, the pressure both painful and grounding at the same time. Yesterday’s battle had been especially hectic, the others all having their hands full with the Hitotsuki which meant Jiro had to step in overtime a bit to keep both Sononi and Sonoza at bay. He was a bit relieved, even if only secretly so, that Sonoi had not been present as well or he would likely have fared even worse; he had been a bit desperate in trying to get their attention away from the others so they wouldn't be bothered by additional opponents, but in trying to goad and let the two noto get some strikes in to engage their interest he had underestimate his opponents speed and Sonoza’s spear had taken to gouging into his bicep. He had been able to keep fighting, and he would like to think that thanks to him the others could prevail uninterrupted in their main fight with the hitotsuki monster too, though his other self had been adamant they return home to care for their wounds after everything cleared instead of finding the others.

Normally for such injuries, the other Jiro would take over with some mild insult on his tongue or a rough shove across their bond forcing his way into the body. For all his rough actions and sharp words though, he was always thinking of keeping them safe and keeping Jiro from suffering pain whenever possible. This time however, Jiro had remained in front as only he of the two of them had experience with doing stitches. For as merciful a gesture it was to switch so only one had to endure their pain and suffering, it did often result in any injuries or illness going on longer due to the other’s lack of skill in caring for them. Most practical skills such as cleaning, cooking, sewing, interacting at social events, and first aid were in the current host’s wheelhouse over the former’s as loathe as the other was whenever it came up. So it had been with golden eyes and a nervous laugh of reassurance that Jiro had made his way home and faced the ordeal of having to clean and stitch up his injured arm.

The pain had been rather excruciating but necessary, as he repeatedly had to reassure his other half throughout the process. Every tear down his cheek and grunt into the rag he’d taken to biting on for the process gave way to a respective probing for them to switch at the back of his mind. There was a joke to be made, surely, about tiger parents, though at the end of the day after everything was finished and cleaned Jiro was much too tired to make it. Instead, he did his best to brave through reheating leftovers from the night before, eating it quickly with little fanfare, and just letting himself drop to the futon and he was out not too long after. Which brought him back to his current morning and predicament he awoke to.

His body was still in a lot of pain from the injury and the strain of fighting with his injured arm and having to do everything thereafter, but he was hit with a reminder as soon as he glanced over to his cellphone beside him of prior engagements: he had agreed to accompany Haruka for some errands after she got out of school today, and in case of running into a Hitotsuki she wanted someone to be there so she wasn’t stuck fighting on her own which the upcoming hero was very happy to offer a few days ago. Now though…

“Rest inside. I’ll go.”

“Ah? But you don’t particularly know Haruka-san, why would you-”

“You do. She trusts you, and I've seen her fight.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That’s not really knowing someone I don't think.”

“Wouldn't let me help before, couldn't do anything. Now I can. She would be angry if you did not keep your promise.”

“...Jiro…will you be okay? It’ll be in the market district, where all the shopkeepers and old ladies I talk to for food are? Are you sure-”

He could feel the phantom sensation of hackles raising along the back of his neck and back, his body responding to the emotions of his other half even without fronting yet.

“I’m not weak. ‘ can do it myself.”

Jiro smiled at the petulant tone of his more wild side, fond of just how young he came across when he wasn’t itching for a fight or struggling for control in combat. He rubbed soothing circles into his own thigh, hoping the other was paying enough attention to sensations to feel it.

“Okay, okay. Just don’t strain anything to make it worse for us. Oh! And make sure you don't leave Haruka-san on her own, if you have to leave earlier tell her don't just walk away. And she gets loud and mad sometimes but it isn't looking for a fight or being mean usually so don't take it as a challenge!”

He heard a deep rumbling, something between a growl and purr caught deep in their chest. “Talk too much, too many rules. I won’t fight her. Go out, stay until she goes home, come back. Keeping a promise, nothing else.”

“...Thank you, I appreciate this!” 

He offered a grin before letting the ever probing claws at the corners of his consciousness tear their way forward finally. When the other Jiro felt he was properly fully brought forward, he reached a hand up to his face, tracing his fingers over his own mouth before letting the other’s expression drop as he gave a deep rough sound of a huff and rolled his neck and shoulder to crack too tense joints and muscles. Their body always felt too constrictive and uncomfortable to him whenever he fronted, like it wouldn't move how he wanted it to so his movements always were stiff and sudden.

“...he could have at least used his phone with her first…”

He pointedly ignored the laughter ringing out in his head, fighting the urge to tap a palm to his head, as if he could shake the sound from his mind like water from his ear.

Haruka had waved her friends off as they split ways from their walk from school a decent 15 minutes ago, which left her at the lakefront area near the sidewalk leading to the crosswalk from her school that would either take you to her house or into the market district. She had hoped to pick up some art supplies today and, as thanks for the company, pick something up for her and Jiro both for dinner since she had just gotten paid for this week at Donbura. However, her patience was waning a bit as she kept checking her phone with no result.

“The least he could do is text me if he was going to be late or something, I didn't see him yesterday either…did something happen maybe? Ough, I can't do anything about it now I guess.” She nodded to herself sagely, stomping in place once as if some declaration had been made as she came to a decision.

“Either he shows up late and I scold him today or he leaves me here and I scold him next time I see him! Easy.”

She was resolved to give another 10 minutes at most before going on ahead on her own, however as she leaned forward to check around the corner of the sidewalk that led the rest of the way down the lakeside path, she caught sight of familiar orange, gold, and black. She was about to call out, however she also caught sight of familiar white and tiger print and it gave her a bit of pause.

‘Th-the other Jiro?? Why would he come here? Did they switch on the way and he came to pick a fight? Oh. Come. On! Can’t I just win for once?’

Jiro caught sight of her and, to her continued confusion, he nodded his head in recognition and beelined for her, picking up his pace to stand before her in just a few moments. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her as he stood before and over her, his head tilting the side as if appraising her. She straightened her posture, offering a nervous smile and glancing between her feet and occasionally flicking her gaze up to meet his. He leaned down a bit, and she could hear a definitely inhuman sound from him, like something was dragging harshly over stones almost as they dragged their way up his throat past his lips.

“U-um…Jiro? Or..”

He snorted, straightening up and seeming to fumble a bit with something in his pocket before pulling out their cell phone. He shook it in her direction as if that would somehow tell her anything. And going off the groan from the older man, she assumed he quickly realized she wasn't picking up on his meaning. He then held it out, tapping it lightly against one of her hands.

“You used this to tell him to meet you today.”

“U..uhuh?”

“ ‘couldn’t make it, so I came. Y’still have someone to go now, kept his promise.”

She blinked up at him in surprise, not sure what part of this entire interaction to start with unpacking yet. She had never “spoken” with this Jiro really, and it seemed he didn't want to try to do so either with really any of the team. So now with him offering to go shopping with her out of nowhere? She felt she was allowed to be a little slow on the uptake given this wasn't really ever a scenario she viewed as an option before it was literally standing in front of her.

“Hold on…what do you mean he couldn’t make it? You guys are both..” She gestured vaguely at Jiro, moving her hand up and down to point at him from head to toe. “And why didn't you text or call me then? I was waiting for him. You. Y’all? Whatever.”

She crossed her arms, looking up at him expectantly. Usually she smothered a lot of her temper and irritation unless it was with the other don brothers or someone who especially got on her nerves, but she figured maybe since he was always challenging people with how he spoke that it would work in her favor to give it right back to him. ‘Two could play this game,’ she thought. Though that strategy felt like it was going right out the window when she saw silver eyes flicker away from her as one of his hands reached up to cover his throat and scratch into his skin.

“Jiro’s phone…I don’t know how to…Jiro talks to people for us.”

Was he…embarrassed? 

“Ahaha…I see…” she replied lamely, her tone deflating almost instantly.

Her accusation felt mean a bit now, for her to get such a reaction out of a battle hungry beast of a man she had really only known on the battlefield felt…like a low blow somehow, even if she didn't have the context for why. So they both awkwardly stood there, picking different directions than the people in front of them to find ever so fascinating in the moment. Haruka startled when she caught movement in the corner of her eye, and as her gaze flitted back to look at Jiro she saw him reach out for her. Instinctively she took a half step back and he paused, blinking at her in surprise before his expression grew frustrated if the furrowing of his brows and grimace to his mouth were anything to go by. He then reached forward again, but instead of actually grabbing her, he made a motion with his hand as if pretending to do so and then pointed in the direction of the crosswalk.

“Market…he promised to go with you. So let’s get it over with.”

“Y-you don't have to-”

She quickly stopped herself as a snarl started on his lips, unusually sharp teeth exposed a bit with the expression. She backpedaled and waved her hands, offering a nervous smile and nodded.

“Okay! Okay, market it is, yeah we can do that!”

He seemed satisfied with the response as he let the snarl slide down into a tired huff and with some waiting for her to take the lead for their destination, they were off: Onisister in front with Dontorabolt a few paces behind.

Shopping with this Jiro was a much different experience than the one she knew far better. Normally, she was accompanied with plenty of idle chatter, strong arms happy to carry anything either of them purchased; an almost glowing energy anytime he could inform her of some arbitrary fact he knew about a food item either bought or at the joy under attention from whatever shopkeep, old lady, or child that stopped him for conversation. It was honestly really nice, and as much as he was full of bluster and self confidence that drove her up a wall at times, he was genuinely trying to be kind in his own way and when his kindness was aimed at her or those around her she could definitely see it. He was excitable and young spirited despite being older than her, and he preened under attention. Shopping with this Jiro however, was none of those things.

He was an imposing figure, his height something of mild annoyance now laying into his threatening appearance. It was like having a wild animal walk beside you as he seemed to glare or bare his teeth at anyone too close to either of them that wasn't necessary as they moved from stall and store to the next. He seemed to keep his right side always shielded away: if not facing a wall or shelf then always close to Haruka herself. Never touching, but close enough to make it obvious she was being used almost as some kind of shield, from what she had no clue. He didn't talk much, responding with more light grunts or hums in answer to anything she tried to probe from him and letting conversation drop from there. She found herself at a loss with what to do with him, he was helping to carry anything she felt bold enough to ask him to, but otherwise was just standing vigil and guard over her more than actually shopping with her.

It wasn’t all bad, their shopping did go by much faster admittedly, and she seemed to get much better haggling deals with her ‘guard tiger’ always at her side looming over her to shoot murderous snarls to anyone not giving her what she wanted or needed. Useful, she had to admit, but overall not particularly her favorite shopping experience ever she would have to be honest. That was the pace they had ended up going through whatever small stalls caught her interest between the actually intended art supply stores she had come for. That is, until they passed by a small cosmetics stand. It was nothing special and Haruka only planned to give it a light glance over more out of respect and habit than needing anything from it. But as they stopped in front of the small stall, Jiro seemed to suddenly stiffen, loudly exclaiming somewhere between surprise and challenge before he cut himself off. Haruka’s head whipped around, worried by the sudden scene that felt like it was building only to see a small child, maybe 6 or 7 at the most, tugging at Jiro’s kimono sleeve.

He towered over the child, a young girl in a simple pink t-shirt and white frilly skirt standing there with tears and snot running down her face. Haruka felt herself tense in concern, a bit nervous how Jiro would be around a child if she was being honest. Whatever honor bound agreement he had made with the other Jiro to make him…personable was wrong but close enough for now, towards her had no reason to extend to a random kid. She made to grab at his shoulder, thinking she would get his attention to draw away from the kid so she could get away but he simply thrusted the bought goods in his left arm into her unexpecting but open own. She spluttered, almost toppling from surprise more than the burden but before she could get a word in edgewise, she was shocked into silence.

Jiro, now unencumbered, lowered himself to crouch low enough to be at the girl’s height. He tilted his head, taking stock of her before he used the hem of his own sleeve not currently being gripped to wipe at the girl's cheeks and nose. He kept at it, ever so careful if not with jerky movements cleaning at her face until the child calmed enough to only sniffle instead of outright crying at the man. Seemingly satisfied, he placed his left hand on her head, pulling it forward to press against his own and he spoke as carefully and gently as he seemed to muster. 

“Why do you cry? Are you hurt?” Silver eyes stared into small brown ones, and he seemed to shift a bit as the girl shook her head in his loose hold.

“I lost my mommy... She was in front of the makeup store, but then she went ahead without me and there were too many people..” She seemed to start getting worked up again, but before she could start crying in earnest, he once more wiped his sleeve against her face and gently rubbed his forehead against hers, practically nuzzling her to comfort her.

“Mn…,” he let that deep rough rumbling sound start again in his chest, eliciting a small giggle from the child. “If lost here…you did good to stay here...so she can find you again. I can wait with you.”

The little girl nodded, and he moved a bit to the side in a crouch walk before outright sitting down on the sidewalk right there, just a bit to be out of the way so customers for the stall weren’t being blocked off. Haruka was in awe, her jaw all but dropped as she stared down at the battle hungry warrior who was now instead letting a little girl snot on his clothes and sit in his lap. Jiro, having calmed the child down enough to be manageable, let his sharp gaze slide back over to meet Haruka’s own, causing her to once again splutter awkwardly as she was unsure what to do with herself.

“Jiro said…not to leave you, but she..” he turned to the little girl in his lap, his face scrunching up in what seemed to be confusion. “ If you leave me…go find her mom?” It was as close to a request as he could manage, but Haruka understood well enough. “I can go shout around the next few stores down, yeah! Don’t go anywhere, if she’s still around here I'll bring her back in no time!” And so, with the kind offer of the shopkeep having overheard the situation, she passed over her bought goods to be kept safe behind the counter and she dashed off down the sidewalk.

Luckily, it seemed the little girl had only just lost sight of her mother when she grabbed onto Jiro, as only 2 stores down when she called out into it if anyone was looking for their daughter, she was met with a woman rushing her in a panic. The girl’s mother was in tears, rushing a frenzy of “I only turned away for a second, she was right there, but when I got inside the next store she was gone!” 

Haruka did her best to calm her, and she explained about how she was waiting for her mom still at the makeup stall just down the block. They both were caught up, and in what was less than 15 minutes of searching and running if even that, they were both jogging back the way they came to go meet up with Jiro and the little girl. When they got there, the two were still sitting on the concrete where the mangaka had left them, now with Jiro seeming to be...drawing on her face? Haruka’s head tilted to the side in confusion as she slowed to a stop in front of them, looking down in bewilderment of the scene. However, as the mother called out the child’s attention was grabbed, Jiro pulled away and after wiping at her cheeks one last time he leaned back so she could more easily climb out of his lap into her mother’s waiting arms. The woman was quick to dip between a string of reassurances to her child and the odd ‘thank you’ to Haruka and Jiro’s general direction as she scooped her child up onto her hip securely.

She gave one last bow of thanks and apology before turning to go on her way, the little girl looking back over her mom’s shoulder and waving at them with a bright and happy, “Bye-Bye Tora-niisan!”

Haruka blinked, noticing the marks around her eyes; Jiro had done his makeup on her it seemed, and when she turned to look at the man in question to confirm if she saw correctly, she caught him weakly raising his left hand and giving a poor imitation of a wave the way a small child would.

“Tora…niisan…”

Jiro perked up, turning his head to side eye her. She waves it off with her hands in a “don't mind!” gesture before she reached forward to grab his right hand to help pull him back onto his feet. His expression turned to one of concern, but she didn't catch it in time before he snarled outright in her direction, wrenching his hand back and clutching at his arm. She jumped back at first, unsure what she had done before she noticed a few small red dots seeming to soak through from the inside of his light colored kimono.

“Y-your arm!! I didn’t- was that today? I’m so-” He cut her off, shaking his head roughly. He rose up onto his feet on his own, a little shakier than she felt he should have, and despite her rambling protests rising again he took up her things she bought throughout the day so far in his left arms grip and then he looked at her pointedly. She stiffened in attention, looking at him nervously.

“Jiro said not to leave you…take me somewhere there’s no people…less crowded…”

She nodded, relaxing a bit and this time taking just the edge of his sleeve in her hand, she gave a small bow of thanks to the shopkeep before starting on her way down an in between alleyway. Jiro was quiet the whole way, obediently following behind, and so she was glad the area she had in mind was close by. After the alley it spit them out at a side street but once across it, there was a calm not very busy park with benches and plenty of trees they could rest at and so she lead on in determined silence until they had arrived and she carefully took her things from him as he lowered himself onto the first bench they saw.

He sighed, almost exhausted sounding despite the short venture, and he leveled her with a suddenly intense stare. It was that appraising look he had given her at the beginning of the trip, and she was certain there was more to it than a once over.

“Jiro…he trusts you. You trust him to have your back, to fight with you so you can laugh together after…” 

It was a statement, not a question, and the gears in Haruka’s head were turning at mach speeds to try and keep up with the direction of what was happening. However, before she had met him in the middle, Jiro had already moved on, only now pulling his arm out of the sleeve to reveal a mess of thick bandages wrapped around his bicep. It wasn't terrible, but there was still a sizable amount of blood seeping through at this point and it made Haruka gasp audibly. Jiro did his best to carefully unwind the bandages to pull away the gauze pad soaked through to inspect underneath it. Haruka covered her mouth at the mostly neat row of sutures across his bicep, quick to see that one had ripped and from there it was oozing slowly some half dried and half fresh blood. 

“You were hurt before you came with me today…Is that what you meant by Jiro not being able to make it?! Don’t you both feel it? Neither of you should have come then!” She gave him a hard stare, and he tilted his head at an odd angle to look at her, a confused groan on his lips as he met her stare.

“Jiro promised-”

“It was just shopping! We could have done it another time, it’s not a big deal! This!” She gestured at his arm,” This is a big deal! Did you even go to the hospital?”

Jiro sneered, seeming to almost shudder at the suggestion. “Don’t trust them...strangers…to many people and touching…No.” His tone was firm, challenging anyone who would question the decision. “Jiro is…he’s smart, picks up things quickly, learned how to… he takes care of those things. If too much for us…call Rumi-chan.” 

“Rumi-chan?” ‘I don't think he’s ever referred to anyone like that before…”

“Mn…Rumi-chan is…nice, safe, kind. Laughs with us, even when it is me not Jiro. Important, she lives back where we grew up, had to leave her behind to come here…didn’t want to rely on her when Jiro was a hero like was supposed to be.”

Haruka sighed, reaching into her school bag amongst her other things and she rooted around until she found her gym class t-shirt. She pulled it out and after a soft prayer of apology to the garment, she ripped with all her might until she successfully ripped a good long strip from the lower half of it. She looked over to Jiro, and gestured vaguely to it with her head.

“May I? Just as a temporary bandage until you’re home and Jiro can deal with it then.” 

She waited until she got a curt nod before reaching forward, wrapping the strip around his bicep and tying it off, mumbling apologies under her breath as he hisses when she tightened it to knot it. Satisfied with the quick fix bandage, she sat back as Jiro fixed his kimono back into place.

“...Do you trust me?”

She startled a bit hard, almost falling from her seat on the bench beside him as she spluttered. “Haaa??”

“You…bandaged our arm, fight with us, take us with you into crowds with strangers.”

“I mean...those aren’t really big things….” She noticed him look away from her, finding the ground much more fascinating it seemed as he almost nervously flexed his “clawed” fingers in front of him,” But they are…for you then…” 

She crossed her arms, tilting her head one way and then the other as she tried to think of how to answer him.

“Most of us didn't choose to fight, not at first anyway. I'm glad to be a don bother now! Don't get me wrong, it's important and..it has opened a lot of experiences up to me and people i wouldn't know otherwise. But we didn't pick it the way you or Taro did. But…I do trust you in battle, Jiro helps us and you’re both really strong too. So yes I trust you. And I don't think Jiro would hurt me on purpose, um…I think…maybe if you were around us more though…maybe we could get to trust you. Trust usually only comes when you get to know someone enough to understand them, y’know.”

“Jiro trusts you, even if he does not know you all. Because you are also heroes. I do not…I don’t trust people, it’s…stupid. Not safe. Most people do not wish to laugh with us or to offer kindness, not like Rumi-chan, not like Jiro. Jiro is naïve, and foolish, but he is also smart and insightful…If he trusts you…should I try to?”

“You…me, us, heroes? Ahaha, well...Um, I mean..,” she paused, taking a deep breath in and then out to settle herself. There would be time to feel praised and flustered later. “Nobody can tell you who or what to do, that’s something you need to decide. But I would like to think it would be a good idea to try and trust me..to trust us. I know we’d like it if you did. You’re both our comrades so…getting to know you both I think is a good start, since you’re both a part of the team I mean.”

Jiro paused, looking at her with the most open expression she had ever seen on his face. His eyes were wide and he was just looking at her a little slack jawed, almost startled by her words. After a few beats, he quickly turned away and made to stand taking a few steps away from the bench.

“Jiro?”

“I kept his promise. We went to the market, I did not leave you, I did not fight with you. I'm going home.”

And with that, he left as unexpectedly as he came, his almost lumbering gate straightening somewhat as he got farther away down the path. Before he was out of view, she could have sworn she overheard him talking to himself, but his words were lost on her with the distance. She sighed, letting herself sag back into the bench and looking up at the trees around her, her bags strewn at her feet and the remains of a t-shirt shredded next to her on the bench.

“What a wild day…I still owe them dinner” she thought aloud idly to herself.

Lonely Together (Donbrothers fanfic)

Summary:

It was not only death that pushed people to mourn, loss took many forms and the solace people sought to deal with it took equally as many. Sonoi was learning that more and more as he spent time with an unlikely of companions, but maybe not one who was so different.

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

“I have always wondered something, Momotani Jirou.”

The gold ranger in question hummed in attention, his mouth too stuffed with a large daikon slice from the bowl of oden in his lap, a matching one in Sonoi’s own. Some time after Jirou settled in with his now only option of residence after everything from the revelations of his home town to Momoi’s departure, he had tried to make his small house(if one was generous enough to call it such a thing) a bit more his own. He had gotten help from Sonoi of all people in adding on a small porch deck to the back of the building, which is where they both found themselves now seated this early evening. 

“The jacket…did it manifest only for the other one?”

Jirou had to hold a hand over his mouth, keeping himself from reflexively spitting anything out as he swallowed hard to instead push down what he had. He reflexively coughed into his fist anyway, Sonoi looking at him in mild concern.

“Y-you…that’s what you’ve held on to all this time?” His words were stilted half through coughing and half through the traces of a laughter rising up past his lips. Sonoi took a small bite out of an egg, politely chewing it slowly before gracing him with a response.

“You didn’t need to be in your combat transformation form to switch between the two of you, and yet your physical attributes and articles of clothing changed. I always wondered about it, though it never exactly seemed something time allowed me to broach given the circumstances before now.”

Jirou hummed, his laughter dying quickly at the implications of such a statement. It was said with casual remark, but he wasn’t blind to how mentions of the past were like walking on glass with the blue clad noto. He was not a volatile man, but he was a deeply sentimental one and be it not Jirou to be the first to upset him especially when they had only now started to allow anything close to companionship to begin. He carefully placed his bowl beside him, using his freed up lap to lean forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand.

“Well, I made it for him when I made my own clothes before we started out for the city here. He wanted something that was his own since before we tended to dress pretty simply and didn’t really differentiate from each other. We used to switch a lot more often back home, he was more comfortable with the place and people than here and he didn't want any of our friends to question who was with them. We shared that place and those people, even if…well...even if it wasn’t real exactly.

A-anyways though, once we got here he said he wanted to fight on his own sometimes too and so he wanted people to tell us apart, ‘so our enemies know who they’re facing’ or something like that.” 

Jirou smiled fondly, absently running his free hand along the hem of his pants leg. “To be honest with you, I think it’s just because he wanted something that made him look bigger and scarier and that was warm. Plus, our clothes look pretty cool right?”

Jirou let his warm gold eyes flick up to Sonoi’s intense blue and offered a cheeky smile and a chuckle. Sonoi smiled in return though much smaller, offering a vague shrug.

“It’s not to my tastes, however… it is well made.”

Jirou sighed but the smile didn't drop from his expression.

“I’ll take my wins where I can.”

“So because it was his, he…kept it? Does it work like that?”

“Mmmm, I think only for us. Or at least people like us; because we have the powers that come with the don clan and being don brothers, he was able to do it. Otherwise he’d probably just have to carry it around or put it on and off when he was in control normally? He only wore it inside when he was about to switch though.”

“Inside?”

Ah! Umm..so in our…head? Heart? I'm not too sure, but inside us is kind of a place we go to when the other one is using our body. It kinda looked like the old shrine by the school we used to play at as kids, like this small little courtyard surrounded by trees and the rundown shrine. We would wait for each other there or sometimes we could both talk there if whoever was on the outside focused really hard. We didn't…ah...this is weird to explain to someone else.”

Sonoi only offered a genuinely interested and open expression, and not seeing any judgment or disbelief in his face, Jirou hesitantly pushed onwards.

“Well, we didn't always look like…this? When he’s inside and I was talking to him there, he looked like we did as a little kid from when we first met Rumi-chan and Sago and the others. He didn't look like how he looked to you unless he was in control and changed how he looked inside to talk to me or we talked outside sometimes. That was also something we couldn’t do until we left home I think, probably because of our powers manifesting around that time.”

“Is that where he is now? In that place within you both?” 

Jirou shook his head, placing a hand against his heart and then sliding it down towards his diaphragm as he spoke.

“He’s somewhere deeper I think…he’s still in there, and when he wants to he can still speak to me and every once in a while I'm pretty sure he comes out when I'm asleep too, it’s just…we don’t talk very often anymore, not like before. He was always always here before, whether he was talking to me all the time or he was fighting me for control and with us in battle. But now it’s more like…I can feel him, sometimes I can hear something in the back of my mind I'm sure is him, but he won’t respond to me most of the time. We…I have to find my own path, and do things on my own and become my own hero. That’s what he said, and he’s right I'm sure. But it does get a lot lonelier sometimes, with just me all the time. I’ve never…I’ve never been alone before now, so it’s a lot to adjust to…”

He offered a weak chuckle, embarrassed to admit the truth he had been holding onto ever since that day in the woods on his own, having spent weeks of mourning a life he hadn't truly had. He had never hurt like that before in his whole life, he felt sick constantly with how overwhelmed he felt. His whole world had been ripped out from under him, the people he had grown to love and depend on having never been there, the point of his birth having felt like a lie for a much worse purpose. It was too cruel for him to really understand, his heart constantly felt like it was falling apart. He could tell his other self felt similarly, never taking control because within their world he mourned in his own ways and though they had each other in that pain, they had the kindness to not look upon the other’s grief more than necessary. 

When his other half had, in the throes of that, admitted outright his own pain and sadness only to thrust Jirou into focus and to delve somewhere deep within them he couldn't follow, he was confused and hurt beyond belief. He didn't think it was meant as an act of cruelty, it really was Jirou’s own way of pushing the other to overcome an obstacle, but with as much as it gave him the jumpstart and courage to push forward, it hurt to be so alone in such a horrible time. The pain lessened as he tried to lean into his friends he had now, finding friends where he never thought he would too in Sonoi, but…

Jirou startled from his thoughts, not realizing how long it had drawn out since he stopped speaking when he felt a hand tentatively rest between his shoulder blades. Sonoi’s gaze wasn't warm or coddling with sweet words on his lips, nor was it cold and full of judgment. Instead he was simply…there. A true schooled neutrality, but he was there and he was listening and that was as warm as the sun kissing skin with the morning rays to Jirou.

“Someone who completed you, being so close and yet you cannot reach them yourself, I…can understand that emotion. It is a hard burden to bear, being the one left behind…I do not mean to overstep by-”

“Ah, no, no! It’s okay, I… I don't think that’s reaching too much really at all, honestly. I appreciate it…”

They lapsed into a somewhat awkward silence, food forgotten in bowls at their sides for now and simply letting the presence of another person fill up the moment over words. They sat there for a while, the late sun sinking to give way to early evening. The city washed out most the stars from where Jiro’s porch looked out to, but the deeper blues of night overtaking the grayish blue of day was a sight in its own right too. Sonoi let himself get lost in it, doing his best to pick out any exceptionally bright stars fighting their way against the light pollution anyways in the city around them. It was a task that held his attention enough that he didn't at first realize something shift in the frame of the man at his side, his hand still in place on his back.

He didn't properly take notice until he felt Jirou suddenly stiffen sharply under his touch, not quite pulling away but his back almost reflexively arching away from his palm so he pulled it back, quick to glance over in concern. Jiro had not been touch averse by any means as far as he had known him, often with Sonoi being subjected to the other more than vice versa. Then again, that was Don Doragokuu. The man at his side now however, was no longer such person.

Jirou’s eyes were outlined with deep red, silver sharp eyes sliding over to meet Sonoi’s gaze as an involuntary shudder made its way down his back as if shedding something from his skin before he outright shook himself out where he sat. His white coat seemed to drown him a bit when sitting, and the way he reached up to dig nails into his neck as he grabbed at his own throat seemed a bit more painful than usual, like he was unsure how to handle himself and with Jiro no longer keeping his nails so bluntly short, Sonoi briefly wondered if he might actually break skin now.

“You still ask too many questions…Sonoi.”

Sonoi let his lips quirk up in a small smile, tilting his head  a bit at the other man.

“The most persistent of wolves will wear down their prey with time.”

Jirou glared, a loud huff pushing out of him before he let himself glance around them both, taking in their location and then looking himself over.

“Mn…this’ new…” he nose crinkled a bit as he let his gaze slide back over to the noto who had sat patiently for the other to address him further or not. “You…your scent is different now.”

“Pray tell then, what do I smell like, Momotani Jirou?”

Jirou made some kind of rough noise in the back of his throat at the formal address, and he leveled the other man with a strong gaze directly into his eyes. “Sorrow…it clings to you now. Like you don't know what to do with it.”

Sonoi swallowed nervously, unsure how ready he was to have his first real address of this Jirou be about something he wouldn't even voice in full to Sonoza and Sononi, not even to himself most days. So he simply stared back, not backing down, but unwilling to be the one to engage further. Stalling.

Jirou flexed his “claws” as he sat there, not breaking the staring contest between them as he seemed to crack and pop every joint he could move in their seated positions, somehow manifesting a stiffness in their body that he was sure the other Jirou had not felt just minutes earlier. He only gave pause in his focus when he ran the back of his hand across his forehead, and with a grumble he reached up to start preening at his hair, pulling it forward and to the side despite the product that was most certainly holding it in place nowadays. He let a low growl drag past his bared teeth, frustration growing as he was unable to dislodge it in what was apparently a style he was not in favor of.

“Allow me?”

Jirou huffed, but after looking Sonoi up and down in some kind of appraisal, he nodded stiffly. Sonoi chuckled softly and moved to shuffle forward until he slid off the side of the low porch, moving to bend down now on the ground so he was level with the still seated “tiger”. He reached forward and without hesitation as he might have had in the past, he gently began running his fingers through brown locks repeatedly from hairline to the back of the other’s head, trying to coax the spray to crack and free even a bit to free hair from its stiff position. With how it had been combed back before being set, it was likely just the top layer was actually stiff so if he tried to break up the top layer, the rest would be easier to return to a more familiar style.

Jirou, to his credit, didn’t make much noise beyond a soft almost imperceptible sound from deep in his chest, Sonoi struggled to place it quite yet and simply continued his ministrations. Jirou let silver eyes slide closed once Sonoi got into a rhythm, even leaning his head into the touch somewhat whether he realized it or not. Sonoi didn't stop, outright massaging into the other’s scalp now to make sure it was as broken up and would pull on odd stiffened strands as it was styled before he began to do his best to part the other’s hair. If he recalled correctly, this Jirou parted it down the middle and tucked it back a bit in favor of combing it back like the other did so often now or the bangs that threatened to fall into their eyes like a curtain if hair was left to brush forwards.

“You…Jirou trusts you…trusts like the other ones he fights with, not because Taro said he should.”

“Is...that so?”

“Both smell of loneliness...he’s not as lonely with you though. If that’s the case…”

He let himself drop off, exhaling heavily  as he rubbed at his throat once again. He made a face of discomfort, which stilled the fingers in his hair briefly as Sonoi leaned forward a bit on instinct as if to inspect him.

“Jirou?”

“Words are…it’s been too long. Jirou always did the talking for us, but now I don't speak with him or other’s anymore. Easier to feel than speak, can give feelings to Jirou and he can act on them without needing me to tell him what to do.”

Sonoi nodded sympathetically, though honestly the feeling that came to his heart was closer to envy than understanding. Oh, if only it were so easy to have given his heart like that and all its pangs before he even understood it… it wouldn't have changed the end, but maybe the before could have been…

He hadn’t thought about where his hands had stilled exactly against the other’s head, his thumb that sat against the other’s cheek while his long fingers at his temples, poised to have started another run through of his air before being stopped. He didn't think about how close he was placing his fingers into the jaws of a beast without a care until he felt a sharp pain in his thumb, enough to make him reflexively shout but, as he tried to pull away, he felt his hand snag. Jirou has bitten down firm and hard on the thumb of his left hand, his oversharp canines digging in enough to draw blood and he didn’t let go with a nip either.

“Wh-what are you-!”

“Quit wallowing in it.” His tone was hard and scathing, and if he weren't still stuck in this awkward position he would have likely flinched away at the words. But here he was still held, and so he had to take it head on.

“I’ve not been unaware of what happened since Jiro finally became leader like he was supposed to. It wasn’t how I wanted it, but it’s not my choice; it needed to be his. I know what happened to Momoi Taro. I was listening and seeing what Jiro saw, feeling what he felt…I remember the day when all of you were so full of sorrow, that last fight… could choke on it.”

He bit down once more a bit harder than the first time before releasing Sonoi’s digit, he didn't bother wiping at the bit of blood rubbed off onto his upper lip nor did Sonoi bother seeing to his injury, he simply crouched where he had ended up half pulled away before and listened.

“Jirou couldn’t wallow in our sadness forever, ‘couldn’t let him get lost in it and forget why we came here. What we were born to do. So I took some of it and I put it where he couldn't get to it. Still hurts, but…”

“Manageable?”

“Manageable.”

“I…I’m not able to do such a thing. I don’t have another-”

“Excuses. You have the other two, you have Jirou. Yours are outside, but it’s all the same. One person can’t carry it and still move forward, too heavy…you’re choking on it.”

He reached a hand up to his hair, doing a once through of it and he hummed in satisfaction before returning his attention to the noto in front of him. He reached forward in a too-quick grab, nails digging into his forearm with a bit too much pressure, but Sonoi let the other guide his own hand over his chest until his palm was over his heart. He looked down in confusion before looking back up at Jiro.

“You’re alive.”

“I’m-”

“Now prove it.”

Sonoi audibly gasped in surprise, but once again before he could get a word in edgewise, Jirou let go of him and all but pushed him back to the ground before turning his attention to the by-now certainly cold oden. Jirou picked up the bowl and after a few moments of consideration, he sighed heavily before practically shoveling down what was left of the serving. Sonoi blinked at him in bafflement, taking the moment to make his way back to sit on the edge of the porch where he had started the evening off.

Another sigh as he finished. “ Miss this taste… odd that it’s Jirou’s now…” 

The bowl was set to the side and he leaned back on his palm, arms held behind him to catch his weight before he inhaled deeply through his nose. As he exhaled, white silk dissolved away and red stain faded as golden eyes fluttered open and his arms shook a bit as if he had pushed into the position and not braced himself beforehand. He almost fell onto his back if it weren’t for Sonoi reaching forward quickly to place a hand behind his back to catch him. He mumbled his gratitude as Sonoi helped guide him into sitting on his own once more, leaning forward into his own lap a bit with clasped hands against his forehead.

“Are you alright?”

“Mn. Yeah, just a bit of a headache though… did..?”

Sonoi hummed in answer, assuming the question already. “Not for long, but yes. I spoke with the other Momotani Jirou.”

Jirou smiled, some weight seeming to slide off his shoulder it felt as he let himself fall further forward until his head brushed his crossed ankles where he sat.

“He didn’t let me hear all of it this time but…umm…I like when you come to eat dinner with me and watch the sky at my house. It’s nice having someone to share warm food and a pretty sky with again.”

Sonoi let his gaze slide back up to the sky, true night setting in as quickly as always.

“Ah…It is.”