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It wasn’t an uncommon myth in Shizume. It was said that on your 18th birthday, the first words your soulmate would say to you, or had already said, would appear on your body.
--
When he woke up on his 18th birthday, Mikoto gave the date only a little thought, looking over himself before getting dressed and shrugging at the lack of writing. It wasn’t that big of a deal; he’d never really been interested in things like that anyway, and it’s not like he was alone with not having words.
There’s a reason it’s considered a myth.
Everyone who knew he’d turned 18 asked him about it that day—but the following day, it’d faded back into what could be considered a background for life in this city. People stopped asking, even though they hadn’t even been people that he’d known. If he’d known some of their names at a previous time, he’d forgotten them by then. Besides, Totsuka and Izumo both never mentioned it.
Granted, Izumo hadn’t brought up his words, or the lack of them. And Totsuka wasn’t old enough for them to have shown up yet, so maybe they just thought it was something that a person would share if they wanted to. Maybe Totsuka would get words written on him in the future. That seemed like a thing he would like.
And then... then the Slate had offered, chosen him, in that fight with that man who had idolized Kagutsu. There was no time for thoughts about soulmates and their possibilities with the power of the Slate burning inside of his skin, trying to push against his control and get free, outside this cage he lives in. No time for those thoughts when all his focus was on keeping the flames he'd been granted as Red King from burning down everything.
Controlling the flames took every waking effort, when Totsuka wasn’t calming them. It was the only real rest he got in those first few months, the times the younger boy made the flames settle in his skin, if only for a little while. If it stayed like that, constantly on edge and trying to keep the fire contained, being unable to rest, locking his feelings down so no one got hurt....
How long would it take before he gave in to that temptation, to live outside the cage, burn it all, if Totsuka left because he’d found a “soulmate”? Would he even leave?
Mikoto shook his head, blowing the feelers as that idiot called them out of his face. There’s no use thinking about that. It’s not like there would be anything he could say if that did happen.
There wasn’t any reason for this bad taste in his mouth.
--
There was another night, early on in the formation of their kingdom, where Izumo found himself lying on his bed, staring up at his raised arms. His still blank arms, still devoid of the writing that was said to appear. He’d never seen a hint of the words, but still, he checked sometimes. There was some sort of hope involved, when he looked at his arms as he’s doing, that maybe the words had appeared between times that he checked.
The soulmate myth wasn’t that important to him, but still he wonders sometimes. What would his “soulmate” have been like? Or be like?
Would they be - would they have been, as lazy and aggravating as Mikoto, or as cheerful and carefree as Totsuka? Would they be like Mikoto’s teacher, or his own uncle?
He sighs, crossing his arms and covering his face. Impossible, a fantasy.
He was already 21. If he didn’t have any writing now, there’s almost no way he’d get any, ever. The words were supposed to appear at 18, after all.
But well, it is a myth. At least some of the words he sees on others could just be tattoos, like the mark on his back could be thought of.
--
The morning of Valentine’s Day, Tatara didn’t notice any writing with the brief glance he’d given his body. It wasn’t that important—after all, King and Kusanagi-san didn’t have any writing, so it’s not like he was alone in this. Or at least, they’d never mentioned having any. He thinks they would have mentioned it.
He rather likes the idea of the three of them living like this forever, just settling further into the powers King had gotten, without soulmates. Their small kingdom was fine with the three of them as its center—he didn’t want to see it fall in any of their absences. Well, for him at least, leaving wasn’t much of an actual option anyway. They were all needed in a way, and he found it interesting. King was King, after all. He’d become that great person he’d seen from the start. (And maybe, even if Kusanagi-san tried to leave, they’d still go to the bar. Unless he made huge efforts to keep them out.)
Dressed in his overlarge shirt and jeans, Tatara heads off to the bar, humming as he walked. Naturally he stopped to chat for a little every time someone he knew said hi, and most of them gave him chocolate before going their own ways.
By the time he actually reached the bar, his arms were full of bags of chocolate from the many acquaintances he'd passed along. Carefully lowering some bags to the ground, he freed a hand. After that, it was easy enough to open the outside door and use his foot as a doorstop to recollect his bags. He did the same thing to get through the inside door, smiling as he shut it behind him.
"I'm home!" he calls after the bell stops ringing, heading over to the kitchen.
"What do you mean 'you're home'?" Kusanagi-san yells from up the stairs, but he's down the stairs a moment later, pausing in the archway with a hand on either side. "Welcome back, Totsuka. What's with the--"
He blinks and runs a hand through his hair, deflating a little with the weight of his sigh.
"Right. Happy birthday. How old are you this year....?" The question is barely out of his mouth before he remembers the answer. 18. Totsuka's just turned 18. This was the day he'd almost been dreading - because what if Tatara's got a soulmate?
Totsuka just smiles at him, eyes light with laughter. "Do you want some of my chocolate?"
Izumo laughs a little, smile spreading across his own face. "What?" He presses a hand to his chest as he walks over. "Birthday boy doesn't want all of his Valentine's chocolate?"
Totsuka sticks his tongue out at him, grabbing a bag (maybe next year he should leave his apartment with some bags so he wouldn't need to hope someone would give him bags like they did this year) and setting it down on a bar stool. Walking over to the stairs, he cups his hands around his mouth, "King! Want to eat chocolate?"
The reply came as a thud from above them, and the image of that, Mikoto rolling off the bed rather than standing - they're still laughing when Mikoto joins them at the bar counter, half-glaring at them with his sleep-mussed hair.
"You're early, Mikoto," it's an easy tease, Izumo grinning at the redhead while he gets him something to drink.
"Shut up," he grumbles, grabbing a random chocolate and popping it into his mouth. It was heart shaped, from what Tatara saw.
Tatara leans forward on his stool, stretching out over the counter top. "Do you two like the chocolate?"
Izumo nods as he takes another bite, while Mikoto just raises an eyebrow at the question, continuing to pop chocolates into his mouth like thats enough of an answer itself.
"Hehe, I'm glad." The gentle smile on Tatara's face was softer than his usual smiles - those were almost... guarded. This was more carefree and honest. Unfortunately, with how Tatara had spread himself across the table, it didn't take long before Mikoto knocked his drink over - and onto Tatara. "Ah!" He yelps, jolting upright at the sensation of cold, wet fabric... and knocking the glass over more with his elbow. Mikoto catches it and places it on his other side before it can roll off the counter.
Izumo sighs. "Mikoto, you need to be more careful." It's a light scolding as he moves around the counter to check just how much of Tatara's shirt has been affected. "Go get a towel and clean up your mess."
Almost obediently, their King got up, but he put more of the dark chocolate in his mouth before even entering the small kitchen to find the right kind of towel. Polishing cloths are not what Izumo wants him to clean the spill with.
"Totsuka, you-" the words die in his throat, mouth going dry. There, on the inside of Tatara's left wrist, he could see words. Words in a very familiar handwriting.
Were Mikoto and Tatara really....?
He shakes his head, closing his eyes.
The myth says it was the first words spoken between the soulmates, but he's positive Mikoto'd said something to Tatara before that one time in the hospital. Still, the words are there when he reopens his eyes.
He forces a smile, looking up to Tatara's face from where he's crouched. Isn't it a good thing for the two of them to be soulmates? He thinks he'd heard something once about everyone involved having to reach 18. Maybe that was why Mikoto'd never noticed anything.
"Kusanagi-san? You okay?" The concern in Tatara's voice is what makes him meet his eyes again. "You were staring at my wrist - It's fine, I know there's nothing there." Tatara frowns, leaning closer to him to inspect his face like that'd be able to tell him why Izumo was acting strange.
Izumo jerks back instead, gaping at him. "Nothing there?" He has to repeat it, Tatara's words conflicting with his eyes. "You mean, you can't see it?" He's seeking confirmation, shifting his gaze from Tatara's face to his wrist and back again.
"Something to see?" Mikoto's returned, throwing a towel almost carelessly onto the spilled strawberry milk.
"Mm... Well, Kusanagi-san seems to think I've got something on my wrist. But I don't see any words, just like both of you." Tatara leans around Izumo to see King.
"Nothing?" He can't-- "Mikoto, you come and look." He's sure it's there! It hadn't left when he'd closed his eyes or looked away so it can't just be his hallucination or something, right?
"Aaa..." Mikoto lumbers over, resting his head on Izumo's shoulder to take a look. He blinks once, twice. "Is this some kinda joke?"
"Joke?"
"Pretty sure the first thing i said to this brat was to go away." Mikoto frowns, rubs his face into the back of Izumo's shirt, and takes another look. "Still there..."
Tatara puffs out his cheeks, watching them. "I can't see anything. Shouldn't I be able to see it too?" He works his other sleeve back with some difficulty, biting the cuff and dragging, so he can place that forearm next to the one already resting on Izumo's leg.
It was blank. It's not a surprise but... Izumo felt somehow disappointed, like something important was missing. He sighs, releasing Tatara's wrist. "Go shower and change so we can get this one cleaned, okay?"
"Okay." He closes his eyes and smiles. "King," he looks at him, tilting his head, "can I borrow one of yours?"
"Hm? Go ahead." Mikoto goes back to the counter and grabs another chocolate.
Tatara laughs and practically skips up the stairs, Izumo watching him go.
"Ne, Mikoto." Izumo sighs, rubbing his glasses. "What're you gonna do with that kid?"
Mikoto raises an eyebrow at him, eating another chocolate. "Do I have to?" The shower water starts.
Izumo blinks at him, opening and closing his mouth for a few heartbeats like a fish. "Don't you have to? He's got your words."
"Do I have his?" Mikoto meets his eyes for a moment, before resuming eating the chocolates.
"Don't you... have to? Isn't that how these things work?" It's something of a myth, even if he sees words on people in the street often enough.
He gets a shrug in response.
After a moment, Mikoto speaks up, rolling chocolate wrappers between his fingers. "Never really liked the idea. Would feel kinda sick, if there was a perfect person. Wouldn't they give in really easy or something like that?"
"I guess I never thought about it." Izumo hums, tapping his fingers on the bar, feeling the smoothed down grains of wood beneath his fingers. "If it's like that, not having one is more than fine. But, Totsuka wouldn't really give in easily even when he's wrong, so there's no worries there, right?"
That smile of Izumo's, looking kind of pained and also not, only makes Mikoto drop the chocolate wrappers and glare. "Don't say it like that."
"....Mikoto?"
The shower water stops.
"...It's cold." Mikoto looks up at the ceiling. "Think he brought a shirt with him?"
As far as avoiding answering goes, Izumo supposes that this is much better than leaving or falling asleep. He sighs, "Probably not. I'll get it."
Mikoto grunts and nods, reaching for more chocolate.
"Keep that up and you'll give yourself a stomach ache."
If Mikoto replies, he doesn't hear it. Walking into Mikoto's room, Izumo crosses to the half-open dresser, pulling out one of the many white v-neck shirts that lay inside. That in hand, he knocks on the bathroom door.
"'ve got a shirt for you."
"Ah, thanks! You can come in; didn't lock the door."
"Why didn't you lock it, Totsuka?" he has to ask, even as he swings the door open.
The younger boy shrugs, "If you guys needed something, it'd've been a pain. Besides," he turns around to face Izumo, drying his hair with a white towel, "it's not like you'd walk in."
That...was true. No reason to walk in when they knew he'd be showering unless they needed something from the shower room. "'Least you said I could come in after putting your pants back on."
Tatara smiles at him, "You'd probably just have gotten annoyed or closed the door again if I hadn't."
Izumo laughs at that, holding out the shirt. "Probably. Now put this on before you catch a cold."
"Hm... If I caught a cold, would you take care of me?" Ignoring the offered shirt, Tatara turns away to pick up the stained one on the ground.
"What'd you think?" Izumo asks, watching him. There were-- that wasn't right. There should only be the HOMRA symbol on Tatara's back. Not that and...
Words.
His words.
"Kusanagi-san's nice, so I think you would. Maybe while complaining about it though." Wet shirt in hand, he falters, blinking at the shocked look on Izumo's face. "Kusanagi-san? You okay?"
"I-" Could more than two people even be soulmates? Could a person have more than one? Well, Tatara's proof of that unless he's a fluke or something. "Get dressed. I need your help to check something." He takes the wet shirt from Tatara, practically shoving Mikoto's at him with the other hand.
Tatara obeys, pulling the too-large shirt over his head. It looks odd on him, showing more of his collarbone than even his usual too large shirts did, almost looking like he'd taken an older siblings shirt (or a boyfriends-). Izumo shakes his head.
"What do you need me to-- why are you taking off your shirt?" Tatara blinks at his friend.
Izumo laughs, pulling his head out of the shirt, Tatara's wet one falling back to the floor. "Got a reason, trust me. See anything on my arms?" He holds them out, wrist up for his inspection.
"Uhm..." Tatara chews on his lip. "Yeah. It's not very helpful though."
Inhaling through his nose, Izumo turns around. He exhales slowly. "Anything apart from my mark?"
"That's..." Tatara's inhales, breath catching. He looks up at his friend's neck, then back down, tracing the words with his eyes. "Izumo," he breathes it out.
"I'll take that as a yes." He turns back around with a small smile, chest feeling lighter than when he'd come upstairs. "Guess we'd best go see where his words are." He pauses. "After I put my shirt back on." It'd be odd if Mikoto didn't have any since both of them have his and each others, so he's just got to have theirs as well. It's unthinkable. Or maybe Izumo just doesn't want to believe that it'd be a possibility.
--
The two of them make their way downstairs, Tatara smiling cheerfully and practically radiating excitement, alternating between talking incredibly fast and being oddly silent, contemplative in a way. When he sees Mikoto at the counter, all his words fly out of his head, leaving only a cry of “King!” before he jumps at the older boy and begins trying to take off his shirt.
Ordinarily, Mikoto would just stare at this behavior—and shove him off. Today, he looks over at Izumo, “What’s going on?”
Izumo rubs the back of his head, his other hand on his hip. “Well…It’s because of this.” He walks over, showing Mikoto the words that were apparently on the inside of one of his arms.
Mikoto raises his eyebrows. “That it?”
“No,” Izumo says, and Tatara grumbles, “King’s shirt is too hard to take off.”
Sighing, Mikoto looks down at the boy currently trying to take off his shirt while in his lap. “Why are you trying…?”
The words bubble out of Tatara as his tugs on the back of Mikoto’s shirt lose their strength, “Izumo saw some on my back where his mark is and there are some on his back where my mark is and so since we both also have you on our arms I thought maybe since there isn’t anything on your arms that ours would also be on your back.” He groans, “But your shirt is too tight to take off!”
Mikoto grunts. “Get off.”
Tatara looks up at his face, “But King—”
“It’s hard if you’re sitting on me.”
Eyes widening, Tatara almost falls backward into Izumo. “You mean you’ll…?”
With a small smile, Mikoto shrugs, “Might as well check, right?”
If the smile they got for saying things like that was what they got to face from this development, Izumo thinks dazed, maybe it’ll be kind of hard to see sometimes.
“Thanks, King!”
Mikoto just grunts again, turning away from them and pulling off his shirt. As the white fabric passed his shoulder blades, Mikoto heard one of the other two inhale quickly. He freezes. “’s that mean?”
“Well, you’ve got words, definitely. ‘S it okay if I…?” Izumo asks, taking a step closer.
“Go ahead,” Mikoto shrugs his shoulders, keeping his shirt partially on.
“Your left shoulder blade says Hey! What brings you here King? And…” Izumo trails off, his hand dropping away from Mikoto’s back.
Tatara smile gets crooked as he continues, “Your right says It’s about that kid who wants to work for you…he was beaten up on the street and taken to the hospital.” He leans into Izumo’s shoulder. “That’s something you told him right before the two of you went to my hospital room four years ago, isn’t it, Kusanagi-san?”
Izumo leans back a little. “Just like that’s what you told him when we entered your room.”
Mikoto turns around, pulling his shirt down with a scowl. “What do yours say then?”
The two blink at each other. “We didn’t tell each other earlier, so…” Izumo sighs and pulls his shirt off.
Tatara points at his arm, “This says What is it? King’s words, I think. Not very specific or helpful though.” He laughs, perching on one of the bar stools.
Walking so he could see Izumo’s back, Mikoto smiles slightly, sadly almost. “When am I ever? This says Okay, I’ll be careful from now on. Like that dumbass said in the hospital.”
Tatara grins at him, pulling off the too large shirt.
Izumo puts his own shirt back on and blinks. “I can see it now.”
“What?” Mikoto looks at him.
“The words, I can see them now. On my arm at least.”
Tatara’s eyes widen, and he claps. “Maybe cause we’re all saying them?”
Mikoto shrugs, “Maybe.”
“Guess we’ll find out.” Izumo leans over, looking at Tatara’s arm. “It says Who did this to you? Apparently all of ours are from that one time them, or close enough.”
Tatara swivels so they could see his back. “And this one?”
Mikoto half-smiles as he reads, “Look, kid…If you hang around this guy, you’ll end up like this again. You might think you’ll be safe near someone strong, but it’s the exact opposite.” He looks at Izumo. “Will he ever listen to you, do you think?”
Izumo shrugs, smiling at them. “Who knows.”
Pulling the shirt back on with a small pout, Tatara wraps his arms around Izumo’s waist. “You two shouldn’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
Ruffling his hair, Izumo looks down at him. “Sorry, Totsuka.”
Mikoto sits back down on his bar stool, watching them. “This is good.”
“Mikoto?” Izumo tilts his head.
He waved a hand at the two of them, “This is good.”
Tatara blinks slowly, “So you don’t feel like we should change now that we found out that we have each other’s words?”
“Why would we? We’re still the same, aren’t we?” Izumo asks, looking down at him.
“That’s true!” Tatara smiles, his eyes sliding shut. “I didn’t want anything to change anyway. We’re good how we are, like King said.”
Izumo messes with his hair. “Well, then maybe the only thing that should change is what you call me then, Totsuka. Calling me Kusanagi-san might get kinda…weird.”
Tatara makes a face, releasing Izumo from his hold and sitting on the ground by Mikoto’s legs. “Then both of you should call me Tatara. It wouldn’t make sense if I was Totsuka to both of you but Ku—Izumo is Izumo to both of us.” Tilting his head back, he asks, “Mind if I still call you King, King?”
Mikoto shakes his head. “This is good,” he repeats. After a moment, he adds, “Tatara.”
The three of them stay like that for a moment—Izumo standing, Mikoto sitting at the bar, Tatara sitting at his feet—before Izumo swears, fixing Mikoto with a stare. “You actually cleaned up your milk, right? Not just tossed a towel over it?”
He freezes, not meeting Izumo’s eyes.
“Mikoto…” Izumo's eyes narrow.
Mikoto stands up, hesitates for a moment, leans over, presses his lips against Tatara’s hair, does the same to Izumo with some more difficulty, and finishes wiping up his milk. He goes into the kitchen with the towel before any of them said anything else.
Not that they were even thinking about saying something; Izumo sat down on the floor after Mikoto kissed his head, trying to process everything that had happened earlier that day.
Tatara looks at Izumo and scoots toward him, resting his head on his friend’s leg and looking up at the ceiling.
Absently, Izumo ran his fingers through Tatara’s hair. His best friends are apparently his soul mates, Tatara’s resting his head on his leg, and Mikoto pressed a kiss into his hair. “You know,” he began, “I think we’ll work out fine.”
Tatara nods, smiling at him. “It’ll take some getting used to, maybe, but…”
“As long as no one in HOMRA freaks out about it…”
“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Tatara laughs, reaching up toward Izumo’s face. “It’ll work out somehow. Right?”
“Right,” Izumo nods, brushing his face against Tatara’s fingers. As long as they manage not to seriously harm his bar, this’ll work out just fine.
The bells on the door chime, and Kamamoto walks in. “Hey—” He blinks, stopping just inside the door. “Did something happen?”
Tatara and Izumo exchange a glance and burst into laughter. A moment later, Mikoto walks out of the kitchen. “What’s so funny?” he asks, looking between the pair on the floor and Kamamoto with a raised eyebrow.
“I think something definitely happened today, Kamamoto,” Tatara gets out between bursts of laughter. “Right, King?”
Mikoto shrugs, a smile almost on his lips. “One way to put it,” he says, before going back into the kitchen.
“Hey, Kamamoto, you want some chocolate? Tatara got a lot today.”
“Huh?” Kamamoto blinks, walking across the room. “If that’s okay with you, Totsuka-san…” Didn’t Kusanagi-san usually call Totsuka-san ‘Totsuka’? Maybe a lot did happen… Shaking his head slightly to banish the thoughts, he looks to Tatara for permission.
Tatara waves a hand carelessly. “Go for it, Kamamoto. I don’t think all three of us should eat all of it.”
“If you say so, Totsuka-san.” Was it all three of their chocolate? He had thought it was all Tatara’s since he was so friendly and it was his birthday today. Izumo had called it Tatara’s, but Tatara said all three, not with those two…What had even happened earlier today? It was Tatara’s birthday…Wasn’t he 18 now? He opens his mouth to ask but finds himself asking an entirely different question: “Are soul mates real?”
Izumo and Tatara blink. After a moment, Tatara starts giggling so hard he couldn’t sit up if he’d tried. Izumo's only a little better at containing his own amusement.
“Totsuka-san? Kusanagi-san?” Kamamoto takes a step back, bumping into one of the couches. “Are you okay?” he asks, eyebrows drawn together.
Tatara nods, managing his laughing enough to sit up and lean on Izumo. He shakes one of his hands, silently saying not to mind him.
Both of them are still laughing when Mikoto stalks out of the kitchen and tosses another towel over the spill. “What was it this time?” He jerks a thumb toward his two best friends—soul mates. That wouldn’t be something he’d be used to anytime soon.
That sets off another burst of laughter from Tatara, and Izumo gets caught up in it as well.
Kamamoto shrugs helplessly. “I just asked if soul mates are real, and then they just…” he waves a hand at them.
Mikoto smiles slightly, watching them laugh. “I suppose they are.”
Kamamoto feels just as confused as before he’d asked, but he doesn't have much more time to dwell on it; Izumo swears and stands, gently pulling Tatara up with him.
Tatara’s laughter stops as soon as he feels himself being hoisted up off the ground.
“Your shirt,” Izumo sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “We still need to wash it.”
Tatara’s eyes widen, and he looks around a moment before sighing. “It’s still upstairs, isn’t it?”
“I think so.” Izumo tilts his head, looking down at Tatara. “Think you’ll need help?”
“I’m not that hopeless, Kusanagi-san.”
He gives him a terribly fond look before going back up the stairs.