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For one, Kaiser’s memories have warped. Not decayed (which would be the best option for where his past could fuck off to), they never change completely- but they have less bite to them eighteen years later.
He still remembers the sharp explosions of pain; bright and stinging, light dancing in his vision as a hand slapped hard across his face, or the crack of knuckles into the socket of his eye. The taste of metal sticking to his teeth. Even with the knowledge of what it feels like to think I’m going to die ingrained into the synapses of each nerve in his body, he hasn’t felt like he felt back then ever since he met Isagi.
There was never the tell-tale flex of his husband’s jaw like that of someone with rage boiling beneath their skin, ready to strike. Isagi’s eyes never got dark and clouded with alcohol, never stared at Kaiser with pure disgust. Isagi’s never wrapped hands around his neck, never made him shiver in fear or beg for his own life, limbs flailing- he never called him trash, worthless, pathetic.
Isagi keeps him warm at night, doesn’t mind Kaiser’s meticulous routines, loves him. He promised Kaiser (without realizing what that really meant to him) that he would always love him, it was in their vows. Isagi’s parents had been front row, the empty seat reserved for Kaiser’s mother vacant beside them. He wouldn’t let her ruin the best day of his life, and his husband’s, by not showing up. He wouldn’t let his parent’s or his past or his father ruin what he could create with Isagi.
Though sometimes, he could even feel it- his thoughts unraveling in his brain like a spool of thread, or glass breaking under pressure; alone in that filthy house trying not to breathe too loudly or his slob of a father would smash a bottle over his head, beat Kaiser till he didn’t even know up from down. Kaiser could feel his mind slipping, clutching his soccer ball like it was a buoy, the only thing keeping him from drowning- from wanting to die.
Even now, with all of Isagi’s hard work in making him feel like a human being, there’s still a part of him missing. A feeling like he’s missed out of being whole, like he’s not himself, at least not the version he could’ve been. Isagi is whole, Isagi with his loving parents who used to hold him in rainstorms; Isagi was like light, the kind that filled up that dark, empty cavernous part of him and made it warm.
There had always been a hole in his chest, and the entire thing made him enraged. It was unfair. Why should he be denied part of himself because of some guy wanting to make someone who couldn’t even fight back at the age of five feel fucking pathetic. He’s not sure he’ll ever get it back, but Isagi’s more than enough for him.
But it all still makes him so angry, like he can’t breathe without feeling the wrath building deep in his gut and he just wants to break something like he’d been broken so many times, till there’s nothing left but dust.
He thinks of the ratty old soccer ball in his closet, the one he would kick and toss and hit until it would turn mushy like a browning peach, its air knocked out of it. He hasn’t had to use it in years, because Isagi’s arms feel more like a cure than any juvenile tantrum he could throw to expel his rage.
Or he would just drown himself in practice if Isagi is busy, or let his daughter tug on his hair to make a sloppy braid that’s so crooked it looks like a zigzag but it’s so perfect that it pains him to undo it. Isagi usually does it for him, scolding Kaiser for letting Marie mess too much with his hair, combing it out gently for him and running his fingers through it until Kaiser relaxes.
There were so many other things to feel besides resentment.
That’s why the envelope in his hands means nothing.
The front door opens, the bell wind chimes Marie made for his birthday clinking at the movement, and he looks up from the letter and stands. He throws it into the rest of the mail pile, walking over to Isagi and their daughter, who squeals and smiles at the sight of him, “Papa!”
“Hello, my love,” he greets, kneeling down to scoop her up into a tight hug. She leans back, her tiny hands grabbing for his neck to hold onto him- her eyes peer up at him through her dark lashes, her braid like an oil spill down her back, and she stares at him with his husband’s eyes. He wordlessly kisses her forehead, shifting her in his arms, “did you have fun today?”
“We learned about the ocean today, and the fishies, and the stuff that Daddy puts in his miso soup,” she rattles off, her arms looping around his neck like a koala, and he listens carefully to her slightly mixed up facts about starfish and seaweed.
At least the ocean was real, she had been too obsessed with Ness’ magic tricks to stop talking about it for a month, and he’s happy her class has finally captured her attention again. The last thing the both of her parent’s needed was to have to help her with her homework when neither of them had even gotten to their last full year of highschool. He can’t help but snicker to himself, shifting her in his arms so that she’s more secure.
He carries her into the house and Isagi shuts the door behind him, his hand on the small of Kaiser’s back so he can lean up to kiss his cheek. “She has something to tell you,” Isagi sighs, his arms crossed over his chest. Marie pouts, her bangs falling across her eyes as she shakes her head. “It’s important.”
Kaiser lets her down, taking her bag and hanging it onto the hook in the corridor, and he kneels back to her level. She stands still as he brushes her bangs away from her face, trying to make her calm down, “if Daddy says it’s important then you have to tell me.”
“I-I don’t want you to be mad at m-me,” Marie tears up, and Kaiser clicks his tongue, rubbing the top of her head.
She could commit a murder and Kaiser wouldn’t be able to hate her. If anything, he’d probably have helped her hide the body. But for the sake of Isagi, and not raising an overly coddled child, he sighs instead, “I will only be upset if you keep secrets from me.
“Daddy said the same thing, but-“ Marie starts, looking down at the floor, and Kaiser squeezes her arm reassuringly to get her to look back into his eyes.
“Your Daddy is very smart then,” he chuckles, looking back at Isagi where he stands in the doorway, but there’s no usual laugh or smile. He looks genuinely unsettled, and Kaiser realizes this is serious. “Marie..”
“I got into a fight today…” Marie trails off, not taking her eyes off of Kaiser even though he can tell she wants to, and Kaiser’s thoughts come to a screeching halt.
“What,” he says lowly, a thousand worst case scenarios running through his mind, “did someone hurt you?”
“No,” Marie admits, ashamed. Kaiser wonders if this is somehow his fault as well, like she’s inherited that bad temper of his, the one he got from his father. Isagi sucks in a breath behind him. “He was saying mean things about me, so I told him not to do it anymore or I was gonna kick him in the balls!”
He winces, and Isagi finally dissolves into the fit of laughter he was desperately holding back all this time. The worries wipe away like something written in sand, the tide of Isagi’s melodious laugh washing over them like they’d never even existed. “I wonder who taught her that?” Isagi wipes at a stray tear in the corner of his eye.
“I did not teach her that,” he mutters under his breath, wiping a hand down his face. He’s been trying hard to speak eloquently around their daughter, but sometimes the habits of a street rat can’t be broken, and things slip out.
He was going to go gray a lot earlier than he’d desired. Maybe Botox was next. Could he kiss Isagi even if his cheeks didn’t move anymore? “I told you to walk away before you feel you have to do something like that.”
Marie would never have to lay hands on anyone as long as he was here. He’d do it for her. But it’s a stark contrast to the way he and Isagi used to act as hormonal teens- kicking and pushing and harping off cruel words to each other before even thinking of speaking in proper terms rather than in bitterly spit out insults. But Marie certainly wasn’t her parents, no one was like him and Isagi.
“I know, but he stopped after, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Marie frowns, and her lip starts to wobble. “You’re not mad right?”
“Kicking someone in the nuts isn’t defending yourself,” he sighs, biting his cheek to stop himself from just giving into her puppy eyes.
“Is Papa gonna kick him in the balls then?” Marie asks, and there’s a noise like Isagi’s just slapped his hands over his own mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“I can’t kick anyone’s balls, baby, I’ll get in trouble,” he tries to appease her, unless he wants a lawsuit then there would be no kicking of any six year old boys even if he wanted to do it for messing with his daughter. He pinches her cheek and stands, “just like you are right now. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Isagi jumps, and Kaiser doesn’t feel so bad for calling him out. He had trouble punishing his daughter anyways, it was always Isagi who had to be the one to take away a toy from her or cut her off from the Halloween candy she’d amassed. He didn’t have it in him to take anything away from his child; not after what he’d gone through just to keep a measly hundred bucks and a football back in his childhood. If he worked so hard for this wealth and this status, why should he not be able to spoil his children?
Isagi knows, and he doesn’t ever make Kaiser discipline Marie to anything severe, but it’s still like payback to watch as Isagi squirms and tries to come up with a proper solution.
“Go to your room, and no cartoons for the rest of the week,” Isagi manages, and Marie whines and stares back at Kaiser with a plea in her big, round eyes. They don’t point out how it’s Friday, not exactly that many days.
“Go on,” he says, looking at Isagi before her face makes him take it all back. Isagi’s doing something similar, and they share a look of solidarity until Marie huffs and stalks off down the corridor to get to her room.
“You’re both mean!” she cries, the door shutting after her without that loud noise of a slam because they’d put a door stopper in. It still rattles him, and Isagi can (of course) tell.
Kaiser’s chest feels tight, and Isagi wraps an arm around him from behind, “she doesn’t mean it like that.”
“You’re no help either,” he tries to smile, but it falls flat, and Isagi follows his gaze to the envelope on this table.
“Everything okay?” Isagi asks, pulling away from Kaiser to pick up the envelope. He sighs, sitting down at the kitchen table. Isagi wordlessly joins him, staring at the letter’s address. Werl prison.
Such a bullshit excuse for a punishment, Justizvollzugsanstalt. His father was probably living better in his cell now than when he was sleeping in his own filthy bed with a bottle in hand. That is if the other inmates aren’t kicking the sweat out of him for being a fucking child beater.
“Is this..” Isagi questions slowly, but it’s clear he knows what it’s about; or more closely, who it’s from.
He nods, his throat feeling too sludged up to speak. He knows if he tried it would just splinter, and he doesn’t want to look any weaker in front of his husband than needed. Than he already is.
Who would’ve thought. You can beat your kid to near death every other night for fifteen years and ruin them for the rest of their life and all it’s worth is a pathetic minimum of five years. It was Isagi who had even convinced him to drag the bastard to court before the statute of limitations expired from when he was arrested all those years ago. It had been very public, and he and Isagi hadn’t even been married yet- but it had been the reason Kaiser fell in love with him, the one person who had stayed with him from the second they’d laid eyes on one another.
He didn’t know such love could stem from the hatred that used to spin dizzily in Isagi’s eyes. Honestly, he didn’t know he could be treated with such gentle and easy love, the way Isagi graced it upon everyone he met. Kaiser held anything soft left inside him too close to his chest, worried if he let it go then he’d be just like his heartless father- it had been a learning curve to show Isagi how he felt. Even harder not to feel incompetent as a dad when Marie was born.
He remembers how it felt; when his mother didn’t show up as witness to one of the hearings despite her ability to lock him up maybe an extra few years on counts of neglect. How it felt to have Isagi stand beside him and hear him list off the abuse he suffered through to a jury full of blank fucking faces- to feel weak; powerless and pleading before a group of strangers.
He remembers going back to his apartment, Isagi drudging behind him despite not having to be there at all, not having to shove himself between Kaiser and reporters but doing it anyway because he was just a good fucking person.
He had walked inside his apartment like a ghost and broken down right as the door swung shut behind them, his knees giving out. It had felt like drowning, or at least what he thought drowning had felt like in comparison to every way he’s ever been close to death before. The way it felt to sink into a blank, silent nothing.
“Why.. why does nobody stay?” he’d managed to whisper, his head in Isagi’s lap.
“I don’t know, Michael,” Isagi had said. The first time anybody ever called him that name without spite. He stroked Kaiser’s hair, brushing away the tears slipping hotly down his flush face. “They don’t deserve to stay. You’re worth so much more than what you feel inside.”
He turned and gripped Isagi’s shirt in his hand, his arms shaking to hold onto it tightly, and he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into Isagi’s stomach.
Isagi didn’t say anything as he shivered; only running his fingertips feather-light over the sensitive skin of Kaiser’s throat, soothing him like a child. Kaiser had never been soothed before, so maybe he wouldn’t even know what that’s supposed to feel like to draw comparisons, but it had been enough to make him feel whole again. “You- you didn’t deserve a-any of that!”
Isagi’s voice was trembling, and it’s only then that Kaiser realized he was crying. Crying for Kaiser, for his pain.
It hurt to have Isagi tell him he didn’t deserve it. Sometimes it was easier for his brain to cope if he told himself he did deserve it- that made it less senseless violence, made him less of a pathetic victim if he had just been reaping what he sowed. He was trash, worthless gutter filth just like his father had always said, he deserved it. It just hurts to think about it never having been his fault- but he desperately wants to feel innocent, if just for a second, so he clings to those words, to Isagi, and he doesn’t say anything.
The feeling of Isagi’s hand on his shoulder pulls him out of his head, and he looks up at him when it seems like Isagi has a question. His husband swallows thickly, but his expression steels itself, “did you read it?”
Isagi goes still when he shakes his head no, the letter in his hand. He carefully slides the warm palm of his hand across the nape of Kaiser’s neck, just to comfort him. “Michael…” Isagi whispers, and Kaiser wonders if he can feel how his skin has broken out in goosebumps.
“Just give me a little while to.. to make dinner for you both,” he says suddenly, jolting up out of his seat. The letter in Isagi’s hand stings to look at, and he presses the flat of his palms hard into his eyes before reaching under the cabinet to grab a pot.
Isagi doesn’t stop him, knowing that he needs to give Kaiser some time to digest it. His husband would come to him, he always would.
Of course it hurts him, to watch the love of his life hurt so badly beneath layers and layers of bruised flesh, but he understands. “Sure, Marie said she wanted dumplings so.. you probably should make something with vegetables instead since she’s still in trouble.”
Kaiser nods at him, reaching into the cabinet to grab the dumpling wrappers anyways. He was so predictable sometimes, and it makes Isagi’s heart ache. He presses one last kiss to Kaiser’s cheek while he’s busying himself, and he steps back.
“I’ll just be in the other room if you need..” he says; need help with dinner, need someone to hold you, need me. Kaiser nods again, his eyes zoning out as he does the menial wrapping of the little dumplings Marie liked so much.
He drops the envelope onto the table. He won’t read it unless Kaiser said it was okay, and he settles down on the couch in the other room. Maybe he should get the fireplace going, have Kaiser and Marie huddle up on either side of him while they watched a movie.
He had said no cartoons, but.. it was Kaiser’s turn to pick the film tonight and it was always exclusively black and white. Marie never really loved those unless there was singing in it, so he could still consider it a proper punishment.
God, they were too soft on her. How couldn’t he; he saw all of Kaiser in his daughter. Even if Kaiser swore otherwise, and Isagi would never tell him otherwise anyway (he knows exactly why Kaiser is relieved the baby looked like Isagi), but as Marie grows she looks more and more like Kaiser.
Not necessarily in looks, maybe except for her smile or the slope of her nose. He wonders if the nose she has is what Kaiser’s would’ve looked like if it hadn’t been broken and unset so many times, slightly bumpy when Isagi runs his fingers down the bridge of it while Kaiser holds still and waits for Isagi to kiss him. Her personality shines through the most with the force of Kaiser’s passion. He can see it in the way she loves them, and she’s greedy just like her Papa. Though, that might be a mix of the both of them if he thinks about it.
He sits and plays around on his phone for a bit, messaging his parents that dinner is still scheduled for next month. He misses them, he’s not sure why they don’t move to Germany with him and get to see their granddaughter all the time, but he respects their wishes. Kaiser loves them too, he can tell by the way he softens in Isagi’s mom’s arms and never shrinks away from his dad’s hand ruffling his hair. He can still remember his newly wed husband’s face when he had been asked by Iyo to dance on their wedding night.
He listens to the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen, the popping and frying of oil. Kaiser’s weary voice calls out after an hour, and if Isagi didn’t know better, it would sound like he’d been crying. “Dinners- Dinners done!” But Kaiser hardly cried, even if Isagi thinks he really should.
Marie’s soft footsteps rush down the stairs, and Isagi gets up to meet her at the base of the staircase before she can run to the table. He looks around, kneeling down so he can level with her. “I think you owe Papa an apology for calling him mean.”
Marie doesn’t argue, just looks down at her hands, “I will.”
She takes Isagi’s hand, and he smiles at her, walking them into the dining room.
Kaiser’s washing his hands as they walk in, and he turns at the excited gasp Marie makes when she sees the dumplings. “Hey, sweetheart. Have you calmed down?”
Kaiser’s eyes widen when Marie runs up to him, hugging his leg tightly, “I’m sorry, Papa! You’re not mean, y-you’re the best Papa in the whole world!”
He watches from the doorway as Kaiser’s face changes, his eyes flashing with too many emotions for Isagi to pick through in time, and he holds their daughter back. Isagi knows what that means to him, to know he’d never have to act like an animal- like his father. He can’t help but smile, and Kaiser lets Marie out of his arms so she can run up to her seat at the table and wait impatiently for her favorite meal.
He goes to Kaiser’s side, their hips bumping against each other, helping him set the plates, “it smells really good.”
“Marie,” Kaiser says suddenly, scooping an arm around the small of Isagi’s back and dipping him down, “cover your eyes like Papa showed you.”
Marie giggles, her chubby fingers pressed over her eyes, and Kaiser kisses Isagi long and hard, until he’s breathless. Kaiser holds him with his head dangling, his hand supporting the nape of his neck, looking down at Isagi like he’s not just a normal human.
“There’s not a lot that’s right, in this world,” Kaiser whispers, his golden hair tickling Isagi’s cheek, “but you, Yoichi, you’re right. You make me right, too.”
Isagi shakes his head, trying to find the words to say that Kaiser’s never been anything but right too, even unfairly so. The things he had to go through just to stand proud, that he was just damaged when they’d first met-
Kaiser shifts the both of them till they’re standing straight again, his hand slipping away from Isagi’s lower back like it had never been there, and he carries the plates to Marie. “Okay, open your eyes.”
Marie takes her hands away from her eyes, looking down at the immaculately shaped dumplings in front of her. He wonders why Kaiser hadn’t just started a food blog already, he’s sure that the man’s groupies would be overjoyed. Kaiser liked to cook almost as much as he liked to feed them, and he always, without fail, watched them take the first bites before letting himself eat. Isagi doesn’t need to ask to know where he’s developed that kind of habit from.
“Thank you!” Marie gasps in excitement, but she’s a neat eater because of Kaiser, and even if she clearly wants to shovel all ten dumplings down (like Isagi will be doing the second his heart stops racing), she picks them up with her kiddie chopsticks carefully.
Isagi stands dumbly by the countertop still, and Marie only notices his absence after eating two dumplings (more important than her Daddy apparently), because her eyes shift around the room. She giggles when she spots him, “Daddy’s red like a tomato.”
He snaps out of his daydreaming, putting a hand to his lips and seating himself at the table, “you’ll understand when you’re older,” he mumbles in embarrassment, ignoring Kaiser’s muffled chuckle.
They settle on the couch shortly after dinner, the fireplace warming their toes as Kaiser laughs unapologetically at every single old timer joke in the black and white film he’s of course forced them to endure. “My night, my pick,” Kaiser said when he and Marie groaned, and the transatlantic accents had put Marie straight to bed.
Kaiser carries her down the hallway once the movie is over and tucks her in, kissing her cheek before leaving the room. Isagi goes to do the same, pressing a short kiss on her temple, and she scares the life out of him when she grabs his ear, “is something wrong with Papa? He seems sad, like how you get when I eat all your candy-“
“Papa’s fine,” he interrupts before she can say anything more embarrassing, his voice shrill but still quiet to match her whispering. “I’ll talk to him and ask, so sleep well, okay?”
Marie lets go of his ear, turning over to sleep, and Isagi quietly shuts the door behind him.
Kaiser is waiting for him on the edge of their bed, his muscles tensed. Isagi sees the letter in his hand, and he knows Kaiser’s ready to talk about it. The tattoos across his husband’s body seem to quiver, the thorns on his arms flexing along with his bicep as he opens the envelope. It falls from his hands onto the bed, and Kaiser gets up, his eyes like that of a caged and corned animal.
“I don’t.. Yoichi, I don’t want to touch it,” Kaiser explains, his hands rubbing on his pants. “I don’t want to touch anything he had his hands on.”
“That’s okay,” he says softly, sitting down next to the letter and patting the spot next to him. “Do you mind if I read it?”
“…I’d rather you not touch it either, but I can’t stop you,” Kaiser says after a moment, and he sits beside Isagi.
“I’ll wash real good after, promise,” he says, carefully extracting the letter from the envelope and being sure none of it touches the bed. “Do you want me to read it out loud-“
“No, no, I don’t want to…” Kaiser trails off. He doesn’t want to hear his father’s words from his husband’s mouth. Not like that. “Just tell me what it says. When you’re done reading.”
It’s clear the letter is from Kaiser’s dad. His handwriting is sloppy at best, nothing like Kaiser’s looping, elegant script, and he reads slowly through each word, rage courses through him after the shock has subsided, and he trembles with it. The anger is all consuming, and he can almost visualize the smug bastard’s disgusting face, his fat fingers writing out such a shitty excuse for a peace offering.
The need to protect Kaiser aches all the way down to his fingers, and he cracks them with a flex of his hand. This scumbag hadn’t reached out in the ten years he’s been locked up. Why now?
“He said his trial is coming up to see whether he will be granted bail or a chance for service,” he swallows thickly. He can’t hide the anger in his voice, but he tries for Kaiser’s sake. He almost doesn’t want to say the next words, to let Kaiser sleep peacefully tonight, but it wouldn’t be fair to him. Kaiser would be able to tell he’s lying too. “He said he saw from one of the magazines from some of the guys’ in there that.. you got married and we had a kid. He said he wants us to meet him.”
“He can’t possibly think we’d.. you’d go to him after all this!” he can’t hold back anymore, his voice bitter. “Does he think the court is gonna see this and think he’s fucking Mary Poppins?”
“Yoichi,” Kaiser tries, his hand reaching for his husband, and Isagi doesn’t think he can be touched right now. He’s worried the fury coursing through his veins like a live wire will electrocute Kaiser, that he’ll feel it. “I’m not gonna go, but they’ll see anyways that he tried to reach out-“
“Like he hasn’t hurt you countless times, he’s going to try and take it all back to free himself from the punishment he got from doing this to you?” he seethes, and Kaiser doesn’t flinch, but he does shift slightly away from him, and it’s enough to sober Isagi. “I’m just.. I don’t think he deserves less. I don’t even think his sentence was enough in the first place and now he wants out?”
He rereads it all, making himself sick at each word that jumps out at him. He’ll never know what happened to Kaiser in detail, except for the gruesome details revealed at the trial, and the man doesn’t list any of that in the letter. Like he and Kaiser just had some silly arguments in his youth, like it was Kaiser who was the runaway-
“If he gets out, I’ll kill him,” he spits, the paper shaking in his tight grip, bending beneath his fists.
If this man had the nerve to show his face ever again-
“Darling, Marie will wake up,” Kaiser sighs, and Isagi’s mouth shuts. He crumples up the letter and makes his way to the door. Kaiser calls his name, and he hears his footsteps following after him down the stairs, “Yoichi?”
He gets to the fireplace and pulls the gate off, grabbing the fire poker and stabbing the letter and the envelope right through it, shoving the metal into the fire. The papers light aflame, crackling loudly within the embers of the fire before turning to black, charred soot. “I’m gonna go wash my hands,” he mutters, shoving the gate back onto the fireplace and putting the poker in its spot.
Kaiser follows after him without a word, and when Isagi washes his hands (scrubs them raw), he’s waiting in their bed for him when he gets back.
Isagi flicks the lights off, slipping beneath the covers and cupping Kaiser’s face, “I won’t let him anywhere near you, never.”
“Yoichi-“ Kaiser tries, most likely trying to cover up how he feels. He always does that; retreats inside his own mind as if sparing Isagi from the gritty details of how terrified he is. Isagi just keeps going, unable to stop.
“Just let me say it, okay? I know you think you have to protect me, and don’t argue, I know. I see it with me and Marie, that’s why I love you. You’re a good dad, you make us feel safe,” he rattles off, trying to get to his point before he loses his train of thought with the way Kaiser is looking up at him in awe. “But it’s okay to feel scared. Let me keep you safe too. You can- you can always come back to me, I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear I’ll kick his fucking-
Kaiser laughs, low and deep from his chest, and he presses his face to Isagi’s chest. “And you wonder where Marie gets it from.”
He doesn’t argue, because he’d rather hear Kaiser laugh and make fun of him than sit in shock, and he holds his husband- holds him how he wishes every single night of his life he could’ve held him years ago.
He hums instead, cradling Kaiser’s head close to his chest and running his hand through his hair. It’s a short song, and Isagi’s voice isn’t all that great, but he hums softly anyways, the muttered lyrics of a lullaby thick on his lips.
____
Isagi wakes up when the entire bed bangs against the wall, a scream jerking him awake. He blinks at the clock on his nightstand, turning on the lamp and reading five am.
“Michael,” he slurs, exhausted but forcing himself awake, looking over at his husband now that there’s light. Kaiser’s hands are wrapped around his own neck, gripping and scratching his throat, and Isagi already knows what he’s meant to do. This happens sometimes, and Isagi wishes it didn’t. He didn’t want to see his husband hurt. “Micha, baby, are you there?”
Kaiser thrashes, not hearing his voice, but his eyes are open, unseeing and fixed straight ahead. He winces at the desperate, terrified whine Kaiser makes in his sleep, almost a sob, and it’s unbearable how frightened he looks. He’ll never know what Kaiser sees when he’s like this; if he’s seeing blood dripping down his face from the smashed bottles or if he’s forced to relive the image of his father’s face staring down at him in disgust while wringing his life from him.
Kaiser’s not a small man by any means, Isagi knows, but he looks that way now; curled up, hands around his throat like he’s trying to both strangle himself and pull someone’s hands off at the same time. His body convulses, shivering, and Isagi just has to sit and watch, smoothing Kaiser’s bangs out of his sweaty face and calling his name.
He just wishes it could have been him to take all of Kaiser’s pain. He knows it’s selfish, Kaiser would rather die than even think of that, not that Isagi would care what he thought if someone gave him the chance to go back and swap their places. But it’s impossible, no matter how much either of them hates the word.
He couldn’t touch him or hold him down even as Kaiser spasms, a sob lodged in his throat. He’d learned that Kaiser woke up with survival instinct controlling him and he wasn’t aware of who he was fighting against. He thought Isagi was there to hurt him. “Michael,” he pleads again, feeling his husband’s clammy skin beneath his palm, pleas for his father to stop slipping wildly from Kaiser’s quivering lips. Isagi’s a gentle person, but, more than anything, he wants to kill that man.
____
“P-please!” he forces out, his voice rough and strained through the seizing of his chest, and there’s another bright explosion of pain through his head as his father grabs him by his shirt and drops him down onto the floor roughly, his head cracking against the hard floor. It reverberates through the base of his skull, the sickening sound of solid tile thumping against his body. “Sto-“
His father’s thick fingers dig into his arm painfully, holding him down as he tries to scramble away on his hands and knees just like what his father calls him- an animal.
His father’s gut rests heavily on his chest as he straddles him, pinning his small body down to the floor. There’s glass from the broken bottles digging into his skin, and he bites clean through his own lip to keep from crying out.
His father is more brutal now that Kaiser’s gotten older- said he looks too much like his mother, that whore, a filthy whore, and then a hand wraps around Kaiser’s throat.
He sobs, his whole body fighting for survival against the steel wall of his father’s weight, and he doubts his father even hears him over the noise of his own spiteful rambling, taking a disgusting swig of the beer in his grip.
“Shut up, you’re a disgusting animal! Your mother never cried!” His father’s words hurt almost as much as the beatings in between them, ripping Kaiser’s hair free, craning his head back and covering his mouth and screams with a fat, leathery palm. Slapping him with the back of his hand till his own teeth snap right through the tender flesh on the inside of his cheeks when he doesn’t shut up, doesn’t stop crying- he can’t stop, he’s hyperventilating, his limbs flailing, but it means nothing to his father’s bulging eyes. It’s like they see right through him, like he’s fucking dirt and nothing more.
He wonders if this is it. He’s going to finally get killed. His head spins, and he’s seeing double of everything, then his father’s fist sinks hard into his side- his ribs fracturing under the force, the breath all pulled right out of his lungs like they’ve deflated.
It feels like his whole body is breaking, caving in on itself, and a harsh gasp is ripped from him. Pain sears through him, sharp and dull and burning everywhere all at once, agony.
He’s not sure what his father’s even hitting him with anymore- his fists, a bottle, his belt maybe, he’s too disoriented to catch what it is striking him, the blows coming too fast, and he just has to lay there and take it.
Something warm and wet slides down his face. He’s crying, maybe, or it’s blood from the gash on his temple. Maybe the blood spewing from his broken nose. It doesn’t matter what it is, he can’t stop it either way.
Maybe he deserved this. Maybe that’s why his mother left him, she knew too that he deserved this for being such a waste of a life. Maybe he deserves worse than this. His tears and saliva stick to his face, and he wishes he didn’t feel this gross as he’s dying. He sniffles, hands limp at his side.
There’s no more strikes, and he doesn’t have the chance to process why they’ve stopped when hands grip his throat. He’s being choked, and panic bursts deep inside him like a cherry bomb. He scratches down his father’s thick forearms, his hands too small to do anything except try and pathetically pry him off.
He’s not just getting the shit beat out of him today; the way his father is silent, the fury in his eyes, he was going to kill him tonight. He knows, even if he can’t tell what’s up or down with the blackening corners in his vision, he knows.
He had to fight back or he was going to die, right here, his father’s face twisted above him with spittle flying out of his puckered lips. He was gonna kill him, and he didn’t wanna die here on this shitty fucking floor with trash piled around him, another thing left to rot in this godforsaken house.
His vision fades to black, white spots flying around, and Kaiser manages to bring his knees up beneath the weight of his father and push. The hands around his throat unlatch, a pained grunt coming from the body above him, and Kaiser crawls weakly away, the pain in his chest making it impossible to stand.
There’s blood everywhere, shards of glass slicing through his arm, the blood running down to his wrist and making it impossible to crawl forward with the slippery liquid beneath his palms. His whole body burns, but he gets a few feet away, not looking back in fear of what he might see as he hears his father’s labored breathing get louder.
There’s a harsh crack and he blacks out, his eyes rattling in his skull, and he feels as if he’s gone completely numb. Would death be kind- take away his pain like a mother, hold him tight to its breasts. He thinks he’s smiling, or maybe he’s just grimacing in pain.
Then there’s nothing.
____
He wakes with a shout, his body violently spasming up, and he clutches at his throat. He hears himself gasp, and his blurry vision swims with haze as the dream fades. He stares forwards at the navy blue paint of his bedroom wall, and he blinks. There’s tears clinging to his skin, and he turns to look at his husband. “Yoichi..”
His voice is raw with overuse, and Isagi doesn’t wait another second before throwing himself into Kaiser’s arms, “you w-weren’t waking up this time, I thought-“
Isagi’s crying too, and Kaiser holds him back. “I’m sorry, I’m fine now.”
Isagi leans back in his lap, his hands on either side of Kaiser’s face to hold him steady. He stares at Kaiser’s lips and back up to his eyes. “Can I?”
“Can you kiss me?” he echoes, licking his chapped lips. He hopes Isagi doesn’t mind. “If I ever say no to that question then I’ve officially lost my mind.”
Isagi’s eyes are stricken and glossy, like gems, and he leans in and kisses Kaiser till it all goes away. Till his chest doesn’t ache anymore except for all that warmth Isagi pours into him threatening to burst his heart.
He presses his lips hard against Isagi’s, and Isagi’s lips yield easily, opening up for Kaiser. His blood is still roaring in his ear, he’s still shaken, but Isagi’s straddling his lap and he’s not heavy or too much- he’s right. He’s perfect. He holds Isagi by his waist, swallowing the sharp gasp Isagi lets go.
Isagi’s tongue slips into his mouth, and Kaiser finally lets his eyes shut. It feels good. Isagi is warm and soft and he knows Kaiser’s limits, knows not to hold him too tight when he gets like this. Isagi’s tongue glides smooth over his, licking the inside of his mouth, and Kaiser deepens the kiss for him. Hands tangle in his hair, but they don’t rip the strands out, they just hold him. Isagi moans, holding him tighter, and he doesn’t do more than kiss him. The sucking sounds of their lips together fills the quiet dawn, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, and the wet sounds and Isagi’s shivery moans are enough to take his mind off of his own pathetic night terror.
Isagi presses harder, drawing a moan from Kaiser’s throat, and it shoots right through him to the base of his spine, warm and liquidy.
“Yoi- mmh- Yoichi, hold on,” he breathes, his words mumbled against Isagi’s lips, and Isagi pulls back, his pupils blown dark and wide. He’s looking at Kaiser like he’s hung the moon and stars, not like he’s a blood soaked child. Kaiser still feels like a child, and he doesn’t know if he should go any further when he’s still shaking. “Just.. just that for now.”
Isagi nods, climbing off of Kaiser’s lap. “I’ll go start breakfast.”
He makes sure Kaiser sees his hand as it reaches for his face, brushing his hair behind his ear. He doesn’t tell Isagi that the first memory he has is of someone doing that- being gentle with him, fixing his hair for him. “I love you,” Isagi says, trailing down the slope of Kaiser’s nose and cheekbones, feeling the imperfections that Kaiser can’t hide. Isagi’s focused, like he’s trying to memorize and map out every single detail, and he stops with his hand on Kaiser’s cheek.
He leans into the palm of Isagi’s hand, kissing the inside of it, “I love you too. I’ll just be in the shower.”
Isagi gets off the bed, and he pauses in the doorway, hesitantly speaking, “okay.. I’m making bacon.”
He hopes he never has to wake up and find Isagi not next to him. There’s only so much he can take.
He wobbles to the bathroom the minute Isagi is out of sight, stripping out of his sweat soaked pajamas.
Kaiser doesn’t really remember what he looked like as a kid. There were no detailed scrapbooks made by his mom and dad like the one’s Isagi’s parents made for him, or the one Isagi is making now for Marie. There had been times when he spotted himself in a shop window’s reflection before going inside and robbing the old ladies in there blind. They’d had a rusted old mirror in the bathroom when Kaiser was nine too, but his father didn’t wanna look at either of their reflections and he’d smash Kaiser’s face into it until it shattered.
His face is pale and sweat coats his whole body like a damp sludge. His eyes are bloodshot, the corners red and puffy from crying in his sleep. He turns the shower on, his wet palm slipping on the temperature knob.
He stands before the fogged up mirror, his naked body nothing like what it used to be. He’s not emaciated, not fragile and thin so much as a heavy breeze could snap him clean in half. He looks strong, his tattoos colorful and vivid as the day he’d gotten them. Thorns to protect him, a crown to remind him why he needs to be better than the best. “You’re in control,” he whispers to his reflection, but it doesn’t do much for him some days. Especially not this morning after nearly lashing out at his husband, too thickly swaddled in his own nightmares to tell reality apart.
Sometimes his face overlaps with the foggy memories of his childish face- dried blood caked around his nose and mouth, his lip never not split, eyes purple and swollen shut so badly he couldn’t even see straight.
There’s still a scar, nasty but pale pink, along the top of his forehead. It disappears into his hairline, hidden by his thick hair, and he hopes the way he styles his bangs is enough to keep it hidden.
He can hardly see the scar tissue on his arms from broken glass, the twisting stems and thorns blacking it out with deeply injected ink.
He steps into the shower, his bare feet bruised and toes twisted from hours of kicking the same ball over and over. Isagi’s are pretty much the same, like a ballerina’s, he thinks. He’s wrapped Isagi’s ankles and the soles of his feet more times than he can count, they’d never been so torn up as Kaiser’s.
He remembers that. Running barefoot on city pavement, tripping and scraping his knees and hands and feet and elbows till they were dripping blood and raw skin was exposed as he tried to get far away from his house. Even if he couldn’t see straight from being knocked in the head he’d still run, if it was snowing he’d still run.
The shower’s scalding hot as he stands beneath the spray, and he knows his skin will be pink as a shrimp when he’s done and Marie will probably laugh at him if she’s awake. The thought of her makes him smile, and he quickly washes his hair using Isagi’s coconutty shampoo and conditioner set. He usually used his own, a special brand for finer hair to preserve the color of his blue ends, but he wants to smell like Isagi today, and he doesn’t think anyone but himself has to know.
He shuts the shower off and towels off in the middle of the bathroom, combing his hair carefully and patting the ends dry.
He didn’t like being dirty, not when he didn’t have to. His room was clean, and Isagi was always helping him clean up, so he’d never felt claustrophobic in his own house like he did living with a slob. He couldn’t even take a step without stepping on an old magazine with his mom on the front cover, nothing but her face scratched out with a pair of scissors, and he’d dodged enough roaches to know he never wanted to see an insect again.
He collects himself as he gets dressed, the thick cotton of his sweater soft against his skin. Water drips from his hair, but he can’t be bothered to brush it out right now. He just wants to see his family.
Marie is waiting at the table when he sits down, and she stares at him. Her pajamas are still on, a nightgown with jumping bunnies running across it, and her hair is a mess. “Good mornin’ Papa,” she manages, her eyes still droopy with sleep. She was just like Kaiser, never wanting to wake up early. Isagi must’ve wrestled her out from under her covers just to eat breakfast with them. “I dreamed something really cool.”
“What’s that, sweetheart?” he asks, smiling at Isagi when he sets down their breakfast, settling beside Kaiser. The bacon is slightly burnt, but it tastes better than if goddamn Alfons Schubeck cooked it himself, because his husband made it.
“There were these big rainbow fish, every color of the rainbow, Papa, and they were super big,” Marie rambles in between bites, and Isagi snickers at her storytelling. “And- and you and Daddy were there and we all were swimming.”
“Slow down, Marie,” he wipes her cheek. She had a habit of saying everything at once without breathing, and she’s practically gasping to get the rest of her story out. Isagi used to be like that, he’d seen it in camcorder recordings from his mother-in-law, of Isagi’s little hands reaching for his mom as he rambled on and on about soccer without breathing. Kaiser never said much as a kid, and he sure as hell doesn’t have it on video.
He hopes Marie doesn’t start asking to see baby pics of them anytime soon.
She tells the rest of her story, excited to visit the park and see one of her school friends. “You’re coming too, right?”
Kaiser looks up from his plate, raising a brow at her, “why wouldn’t I be? I’ve already got our ball packed.”
Marie smiles big and bright. Kaiser wants to squint, and he smiles down at her too.
Isagi stands and collects their plates, “go get ready,” Isagi says to Marie, and she runs off to her room to throw on whatever overly pink outfit she felt like today.
“Did she overhear?” he asks, staring down at his hands.
“No, but last night she noticed you felt upset, she’s very perceptive,” Isagi says. Just like her Daddy, Kaiser bites back. “I just told her I’d talk to you, make you feel better.”
He’s silent for another moment, absorbing Isagi’s words. “How much longer do you think we can hide this from her?”
“You’re not hiding anything, Michael,” Isagi says carefully, walking up to where he’s sat and lifting his wet hair up. “You’re keeping her safe, you’re not doing a bad thing like keeping a nasty secret.”
It is a nasty secret. Isagi might not think it, but it is. Isagi clicks his tongue, kissing the side of Kaiser’s neck over his tattoo before walking away, “come on. I’ll brush it for you.”
He follows after Isagi and finds himself sat in front of the mirror, Isagi combing through his hair behind him. “You’re gonna catch a cold like this, should we blow dry it?”
“I’ll wear a scarf,” he says, thinking about the silk scarves he has to wrap his hair up. “I don’t want to sit and dry it.”
“That always makes you look like a Hollywood star,” Isagi laughs, brushing a knot from Kaiser’s hair, “you know, when they go out in their convertibles.”
He rolls his eyes theatrically enough for Isagi to see, but he doesn’t say another word. He hates watching new movies. He likes to think the industry just stopped after his mother left- that all movies just ceased to exist except for the staticky black and white films, where those actors didn’t know his mother or his father.
Isagi braids his hair for him, he’s gotten quite good at it too, always careful with Kaiser’s hair, and he locks eyes with Kaiser as he leans down. His words ghost over Kaiser’s ear, “you smell good.”
There’s a soft kiss to the shell of his ear, and Kaiser can’t help but shiver. He imagines locking the door and doing Isagi all hidden and quiet beneath their covers, his husband melted into a puddle of pleasure on their mattress and Kaiser’s fingers in his mouth to keep him from making too much noise.
He might wake up every night for the rest of his life with screams for mercy thick in his throat, but he’d never regret anything that had happened since meeting Isagi. He’d do it all again in a heartbeat, go back to that house, back to that corner in the living room where he’d curled up and shivered and starved, if it meant he’d find his way to Isagi again.
“Yoichi,” he whispers, grabbing his husband’s hand. “Let’s have another baby.”
Isagi flushes bright red, squeaking, “r-right now?”
He brings Isagi’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “Marie’s already six.. I think we’re already behind track, don’t you?”
“But that’s-“ Isagi stutters, whining when Kaiser parts his lips to take his finger between his teeth. “Micha, that’s.. are you sure you want that stress on top of us having a baby?”
“I’m done letting it control me,” he says earnestly, bringing Isagi’s hands up to his neck, urging them to hold his throat. Isagi doesn’t apply any pressure, but he lets them rest there, staring into Kaiser’s eyes like a fool in love. Or maybe that’s just Kaiser’s reflection looking back. “I want this family to be my only one.”
“Okay..” Isagi trails off, and he strokes his fingertips down Kaiser’s neck. “We can have another baby-“
There’s a noise behind them of something slumping to the floor, and they both whip their heads around to find Marie staring at them from the doorway, her mouth wide open and her bag dropped on the floor.
“I’m gonna be a big sister!?” Marie gapes, and the both of them jolt away from each other.
“How much of that did you hear!”
____
Their next child, their son, has blonde hair just like Kaiser’s, though slightly more platinum, and his eyes are Isagi’s too. He’s overjoyed when he holds their baby, his blonde eyebrows furrowed together as he cried to be fed. Kaiser had cried more than their newborn son when it was his turn to hold him.
Marie’s nine now, and she’s too excited to watch Leo learn how to kick a soccer ball properly that she doesn’t notice he and Kaiser planning a trip to the amusement park. “Come on, everyone in the car,” Kaiser says, lifting Leo up off the ground and letting him pull on the end of his ponytail.
He’s got his tinted glasses on so he doesn’t lose them in the crowd and partly (also why he’s not wearing contacts) because he didn’t wanna get recognized. Isagi wasn’t sure how else to tell him that he’s still as noticeable as an alien species walking down the street.
Leo babbles the same three words over and over as he fusses against Kaiser putting him in his carseat, and Kaiser bites his cheek playfully until he starts to giggle. “Tickles!”
Marie predictably loses her mind when she sees the amusement park's gates, running ahead even as he trips over his longer strides to match her pace. Kaiser pushes Leo in his stroller, their matching sunglasses making them look equally as bitchy, and Isagi takes some pictures for his scrapbook.
The sun and the rides wear the kids down, and they sleepily sit through a quick dinner at one of the park’s fast food joints. Marie hums their lullaby to herself as she colors in the lines of Kaiser’s tattoos with some of the pastels they packed for her to keep busy. They look colorful now, the gaps of the crown filled in with yellow and the circles filled in with red like rubies on a princess’ crown.
Kaiser leans back, his shades sliding down his perfect nose, and he looks as cool as a model despite the little girl scribbling pink flowers connected to the ends of his tattooed thorns.
They make it to the car in one piece, the sun having set almost a half hour ago, and the street lights flicker on. He loads the stroller up and slams the trunk shut, wiping sweat of his brow-
“Michael,” he hears. It’s not a voice you can mistake, not when it runs through your mind with cries for mercy over and over again in your darkest fantasies. “Is that..”
Kaiser stops dead in his tracks, his back turned to them with Leo in his arms, and Marie turns and stares at Kaiser as well. She must see something in his face, because she grips his leg, hiding behind him.
The man, Kaiser’s father, looks like any abuser should; miserable. His hair is all gray now, and he’s missing a few teeth like they’d been pummeled out of his mouth before Isagi could get to it first. He’s big too. Not strong looking, by any means, but his gut has sunken into a deflated balloon of loose skin, and his eyes are like a dead fish.
Isagi stands between him and Kaiser as he tries to take a step forward. He’d dreamed about this, as selfish as it may sound. “Get in the car,” he orders, and Kaiser moves, gathering their kids up and getting in the car with the two of them in his arms. Marie watches how her Papa stares straight ahead at the empty lot, his face ghostly pale. She’s never heard Daddy sound like that- like the bad guys in the black and white films Papa liked. She wraps her arms around Papa’s neck, feeling him carefully press his face into her hair. “Cover your eyes like Papa told you, okay Marie?”
Her Papa sounds scared, and she nods, squeezing her eyes shut and holding him like he holds her, trying to make him feel safe.
Isagi stands firmly in his spot, Kaiser’s father watching as his son and the kids get into the car.
He’s slightly shorter than the bastard, but he won’t move. “I just wanted to talk to them-“
“And break the law?” he interrupts, his voice frigid. “Why don’t I call the cops right now and tell them how you broke a court ordered mandate to stay the fuck away from my husband, and in a dark parking lot no less?”
“Yeah, whatever, I know the whole.. thing,” Kaiser’s father says, the thing- ruining Kaiser forever- like it was just any old fucking thing, “wasn’t such a good note to leave on, but I wanted to just see them.”
“Go back to the hole you crawled out of,” he says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “No one wants to see you.”
“I’m his father,” the man argues, as if that means they owe anything to him. “I get to see my own son.”
"Cause he's rich now? Is that it? More famous than your sorry, miserable son of a bitch self never even got close to being-" he presses his finger to the man's chest, his skin crawling just from being near this- this monster. It's not fear, no, it's not that. He's scared, but not because of this sad, deflated old man.
He's scared he's gonna end up in jail if he has to look into his eyes for one more second and see flashes of the pictures they took to trial of Kaiser when he'd been beaten and bruised in a jail cell; thick, sickening bruises around his neck, like those of a noose, in his mugshot at fifteen. "You’re nothing.”
“He didn’t see me, what if he wants to see me?” Kaiser’s father continues, and Isagi feels his blood boil like nothing he’s ever felt before. He has the love of his life in the car a few feet away from him, their kids huddled up onto his lap, and he knows he’s terrified.
“He doesn’t. He never will.”
“Why don’t I ask him-“ the man takes a step forward, and Isagi moves with the intent to make it hurt. His fist connects, blood dripping from the man’s broken nose. He’s not bigger than this man, but he’s a fucking soccer player, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t put his body to use when it counts the most.
Make it hurt, he thinks numbly, dropping down on top of the pathetic animal on the floor as it tries to get away, make it hurt.
It crawls backwards on its palms, its eyes blood red like a pig waiting in line to be slaughtered and hung from its skin to a hook. Make it hurt, he thinks, his knuckles cuffing eyelids, teeth, windpipe, disgust heavy on his tongue. Blood sprays onto his jacket. He’ll have to burn it. Make it hurt, he shakes his hand off, shakes the other one off as it gets coated in slick blood from following right after the other. Make it hurt.
He should strangle him, he should take this thing and starve it and break a dozen, no, ten dozen bottles over its ugly face. Instead he stands up, leaving it cowering on the floor. “I’m not afraid of you. You’re only strong enough to beat a defenseless kid. Your son.”
That’s right, he remembers, this wasn’t an animal. It was Kaiser’s father. The smell of metal turns in his stomach. He presses his foot to the man’s throat. “If I ever see you again, I won’t just leave you in a ditch somewhere, not in the middle of the desert or a fucking basement. You won’t even get to be a body.”
He doesn’t feel as vindictive seeing the pathetic man on the cement, his face beaten in till not even Kaiser could recognize it.
He spits on him for good measure, turning and making his way to the car. He settles in the driver’s seat, his hands firm on the steering wheel as he pulls out of the spot. He only speaks when they’re far away from the lot. “You can look now, Marie.”
Marie takes her hands off of Leo’s eyes, opening hers, and she looks from Kaiser to Isagi. She turns in Kaiser’s lap, Leo in hers, and she frowns.
She doesn’t ask who that was, she just says, “what’s that on your jacket, Daddy?”
He huffs, taking Kaiser’s hand and bringing it to rest on his thigh. “… Ketchup.”
When they get to their house Isagi deadbolts the door. Kaiser leaves him with Leo and Marie and climbs the stairs to go to their room. Marie watches him go, and she pulls Isagi down to her level and whispers in his ear, “did you kick him in the nuts, Daddy?”
“I sure did, baby,” he says, kissing her cheek and smiling. “Tuck your little brother in for us okay? You’re such a brave girl.”
She nods, taking Leo’s hand and bringing him down the hall to their rooms.
He joins Kaiser in the bedroom, his husband laying flat on his back in the bed. He doesn’t join him just yet, scrubbing the blood from his knuckles and beneath his nails till the water drains from red to pink to clear, and he tosses his jacket into the hamper.
The bed shifts with his weight, but Kaiser doesn’t move, even when Isagi strokes his hair out of his face and stares at him in the dim room. “I froze-“ Kaiser’s voice cracks, and he shuts his mouth, eyes closing. “I didn’t protect you.”
“You did, you kept the kids safe, Micha,” he whispers, and Kaiser throws himself at him, his face against Isagi’s chest. He holds him so tight it’s as if nothing can reach them.
Kaiser cries, for the one time in his life he lets himself cry in Isagi’s arms as a grown man without shame. He feels-
He feels safe, with the way Isagi holds him. How he had kept Kaiser safe, kept his promises. “What did you.. what did you do to him?”
He hadn’t been able to see or hear much, his blood roaring in his ears and his eyes pressed into the top of Marie’s head.
“Nothing, just told him off,” Isagi sniffs, breathing in his scent. There’d been blood on his jacket, so it wasn’t nothing, but Kaiser wasn’t going to ask again. Not like it wasn’t anything undeserved. “You’ll never see that man again.”
When he wakes up in Isagi’s arms, everyday after four, eight, twenty years- forever, he knows he’s speaking the truth. That even the dreams will fade, that Isagi will stay with him.
Isagi shifts, like he’s going to leave, and Kaiser holds onto him, unraveled and panicked, “don’t leave-“
Isagi doesn’t say anything, and he lays back down, letting Kaiser rest his cheek against his heart. There’s a lullaby he remembers from when he was still in a hospital crib, it’s ingrained into his brain. Isagi hums it now, and Kaiser lets himself feel all the things he bottled up for years, as anticlimactic as a teardrop rolling slowly down his cheek. Isagi keeps humming, wiping up the tear, and Kaiser sleeps without fear of a nightmare.