Chapter Text
Minami yawns and stretches her arms up as she sits at a small cafe table. Meeting with Kohaku early in the morning after working on a late night magazine entry is always a bit difficult. On the bright side, the coffee here is ridiculously good, and Kohaku is always kind enough to treat her.
The phone in front of her buzzes. She glances at it, instantly recognizing that the sound came from Kohaku’s phone, not hers. There’s no preview message, but the name that pops up is one she is very familiar with.
Ishigami Senku.
The journalist wouldn’t have been able to suppress a smirk if she tried. The elusive relationship between Kohaku and Senku in high school was how she ended up being such close friends with them. As an editor for the yearbook, it was clear as day that there was something going on between the two, as they were constantly seen together. However, no concrete evidence ever surfaced, even as she befriended them and joined their friend circle. Never once did Kohaku and Senku budge on their even keel, “We’re just good friends.”
Now, six years after graduation, she has learned some truth. They are really good friends, friends who are so much on the same page that even when separated by the Pacific Ocean, they’re able to keep in regular contact. Somehow, their hectic schedules always managed to align—just long enough for whatever project they were juggling to wrap up—followed by a week or two of catching up before the cycle started all over again.
And, now that Minami is Kohaku’s part-time publicist, she has managed to mostly piece together how things work between the two, at least on Kohaku’s end.
Kohaku is a fighter, and a damn good one at that. She is huge in the realm of sanctioned fighting, her methods unique and effective in the lightweight MMA division. On the side, she models, partially because her sister Ruri is a model, and partially because they are all friends with the distinguished fashion designer, Ogawa Yuzuriha.
Needless to say, Kohaku is well-known throughout the world and has many admirers. With all the interviews she gets, she can hardly go three months before someone is asking her again who she likes or what her type is. Kohaku is not one to lie, but her answers are usually along the lines of, “No, there is no one that I like at the moment,” and “My type is someone who follows his ideals, step by step. Someone who keeps hammering away, however long it takes. I value strength of character.”
Actually, Kohaku says these things so earnestly, Minami knows she’s not lying, and it’s only because she’s also familiar with Senku that the journalist knows who the fighter is actually referring to.
There’s no one that Kohaku likes because she’s been in love with the scientist for well over six years.
Yes, Senku is a scientist. For NASA. In America. She’s sure the long distance plays a role in all this.
Kohaku’s phone buzzes again as a reminder that the text came through. Minami looks towards Kohaku, who is still waiting on their breakfast and drinks, and snatches up the phone. Getting into Kohaku’s phone is something she does regularly, so there is no barrier there. She opens up the message app and sees Senku’s message saying: Up late again? You need to sleep more before fights.
Ah, he must be talking about her exhibition matches today.
Minami smirks, then types in a few things, presses send, and puts the phone back as if she never touched it in the first place. Two minutes later, Kohaku comes back with a tray of their goods, and immediately digs in. Her phone buzzes again, but this time, it continues buzzing.
Kohaku blinks in surprise as she sees who’s calling and picks up. “What’s up, Senku?”
”You’re with Minami, aren’t you?”
Minami can hear him loud and clear despite him not being on speaker and puts on her best innocent face.
Kohaku stares at her suspiciously. “Yes. Why?”
”Might be time to change your passcode.” And he hangs up. Kohaku’s brows furrow and Minami assumes she’s at her messages when the fighter’s ears start glowing red.
”M-Minami!”
In response to Senku’s text is a row full of kissing emojis and hearts.
Kohaku’s exhibition matches go extremely well. She is unrivaled in her weight class and even sparred against several people above. Her fighting style utilizes her incredible agility to incorporate dance and acrobatics, and her body awareness allows her to instantly shift her weight to adjust for momentum and impact. Spectating a Tsukikage Kohaku event is watching an avant-garde performance.
There are many familiar faces there too. Spear-user Hyoga with the gymnast Homura cheering him on, the Strongest Primate Tsukasa and his little sister, Mirai. They’ve all known each other since high school due to various competitions (and, though she doesn’t understand all the details, Senku somehow played a role in curing Mirai by tweeting something about radio waves and its effects on brain waves). Minami always enjoys running into them, and that has nothing to do with her massive crush on Tsukasa.
There are a few unfavorable people as well, mainly Moz, who flirts with anything with a pretty face. His current focus is, unfortunately, on Kohaku. During their match, he unabashedly makes several comments to her that borderlines sexual harassment. It doesn’t help that his self-confidence has backing; Kohaku is barely able to keep up in avoiding his attack.
Afterwards, he has the audacity to approach her to ask for a date. Kohaku looks him squarely in the eyes, a derisive smirk on her face, and says, “Sorry, you aren’t my type.” The clip of that incident goes viral.
( Nice work, Minami sees Senku text as she peers over Kohaku’s shoulder. She has an inkling he isn’t just talking about the matches.)
Kohaku’s exhibition matches yield two very unexpected, but certainly not unwelcomed, things. The first being an incredible insight into how Senku feels about Kohaku.
It’s a day off for both Minami and Kohaku. They are hanging out in the fighter’s apartment, watching yet another remake of Hana Yori Dango, when Kohaku’s phone buzzes. As she picks up to read the text, her eyes widen like saucers.
“Minami, what nonsense is Moz throwing around?”
“Hmm?” Manami glances over to see Kohaku with Instagram open. It’s on Moz's page, and a video is playing. Though Kohaku has her sound off, a caption of his words display as he spoke.
And he was spewing utter absurdity about how he’s Kohaku’s type and that their love affair is imminent.
Minami makes a gagging noise. “His repulsive attitude squanders any good looks he might have. Don’t worry, I’ll shut this down.” She pulls out her laptop but suddenly pauses. “Hang on. How did you hear about this before I did? You never check out your own news, and you definitely wouldn’t have checked out Moz’s page.”
Kohaku blinks like Minami is saying something strange. “Senku told me about it.” And shows her the text.
Tell Minami to fix this shit. That’s five hundred billion percent a slandering of your name.
It’s Minami’s turn to blink like she read something weird. The only social media Kohaku really checks is Senku’s…and it seems Senku also makes time to check Kohaku’s.
She doesn’t know if she should feel surprised for not realizing this sooner, or feel sick at how unbelievably besotted these two are for each other.
The second thing the exhibition matches bring about is a once-in-lifetime opportunity for Kohaku to showcase her skills in other areas, primarily dancing. Yes, Kohaku has been requested to participate in Dancing with the Stars . In America. And who do they know just happens to live close by there?
Why, the esteemed Ishigami Senku of course, who works at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory.
Minami does not hide that this is a big motivator as to why she thinks Kohaku should accept.
“Go see him!” she urges. “Instead of waiting once a year for him to come home, go to him ! And better yet, crash at his place!!”
Minami has never seen Kohaku hesitate for anything, but here, the fighter looks uncertain. “Don’t you think that’s a bit invasive? He’s a busy man.”
The journalist scoffs. “If there is anyone in the world I believe Senku would make time for, it would be you.”
“That’s not true—” Kohaku tries to protest but Minami is not having it.
“Who does he spend the most time with when he comes to visit?”
“He spends time with everyone!”
“And just this past Christmas, who spent all day with him?”
“Byakuya was out with Lillian, so—”
Minami grabs her squarely in the shoulders and stares at her, brows furrowed. “Look, Kohaku. I know you have an answer for everything I throw at you. I know Senku will also have an answer to anything I ask. But I also know you are no love sick fool, so if you’re waiting for him, it must mean…” Her gaze softens. She can’t tell if it’s pity she feels. “…he also loves you.”
Kohaku’s eyes waver and she looks down at her shoes.
“You can keep with this long distance thing, or you can go live with him for two months and see what happens.”
“He has to agree first.”
“Again, there is no way Senku would ever say no to you,” Minami deadpans.
Kohaku sighs. “I don’t want to take advantage of his kindness or chivalry.”
“ Chivalry? Did you just put Senku and chivalry in the same sentence? He only does something like that when wants something. Figures only you would see a gesture without ulterior motives.” She stops, putting her index and thumb to her chin. “Or actually, maybe you aren’t an exception, since he wants you—”
“Minami!”
“Teasing!” She pulls out her phone. “One thousand yen that he will offer his place without us asking.”
Before Kohaku can stop her, the journalist selects his name on her contact list. As it rings, she inserts another jab, “You know, he only picks up my calls because it likely pertains to you.”
And again, before Kohaku can retort, he answers the phone. “What do you want, Minami?”
“I’ll get straight to the point!” she says merrily, not at all phased by his rude tone. “Kohaku has a gig in downtown LA soon and we were wondering if you had any recommendations as to where she should stay?”
“LA? Tch. I’m close enough to there. She can stay with me. It’d be ten billion percent wasteful to create extra expense.”
“Oh? I’ll let her know! Thanks, Senku!”
“Yeah, yeah. Make sure the Lioness is sleeping well. See ya.”
The call ends with a click, and Kohaku hands Minami a 1000¥ bill.
SIX YEARS AGO - Time of Departure
When Minami arrived at the airport, Taiju and Yuzuriha were already there. Most of the others had already said their goodbyes during Senku’s farewell get-together yesterday, save for Ukyo who was away for work. To be honest, she was here more for Kohaku than Senku.
It didn’t take long for the two of them to show up, walking side-by-side like they were attached at the hip. Kohaku was carrying his bags (her insistence likely) and they were whispering something or another to each other.
No one was ever surprised when they showed up at the same time anymore. 9/10 times they walked through the school gates together, and less likely but still frequently, they left together as well. Minami eventually found out that it was not uncommon for Kohaku to sleep over at his house since it was closer, and this began some time after Ruri graduated.
Surely something is going on, Minami inquired once she discovered this, but Kohaku shook her head. She would take Senku’s bed and Senku would either sleep on the couch or in Byakuya’s room depending on if Byakuya was home. Minami had also seen Kohaku undressed in the girls’ locker room the morning after one of these sleepovers, and there hadn’t been any scandalous marks to suggest a tryst, so she was inclined to believe her friend had been telling the truth (much to her disappointment). The two’s relationship stayed more or less the same throughout high school.
Minami tilted her head to the side. She trusted her journalist instincts, and something about the air between Kohaku and Senku seemed gentler today. She had no doubt Kohaku stayed the night, and Byakuya had gone ahead to America to move Senku’s equipment…Had progress happened? Maybe a love confession? Of course not, right? That would be awful timing. Senku was going to university in another country, and who knows if he’ll ever come back!
Maybe it was just melancholy over the separation. Kohaku attended all his talks, and Senku came to all her competitions. Not much separated them willingly.
Minami didn’t get much time to analyze because whatever tension hanging between them dissipated once they reached the group.
Taiju was bawling but Senku still sidestepped his hug.
“Don’t worry, you big oaf. I’ll come back and visit,” the scientist said, but there was a tenderness in his eyes.
“You’ll do great, Senku! I know you will! America won’t know what hit them!”
“Heh, yeah, yeah.”
“Senku, good luck with everything,” Yuzuriha beamed, handing him a small bento. “A snack for the trip.”
Senku accepted it genially. “Thanks, Yuzuriha. Restaurants will never beat a home cooked meal.”
“Don’t worry, Senku. I’ll keep up with all the news on you,” Minami winked. He grinned at her.
“If you can keep up. I’ve already made ten different handles across three platforms for future projects.” She laughed, but then saw how his gaze drifted over to their fighter friend, who was now conversing with Yuzuriha. “Look after her for me.”
She wasn’t sure why, but something prickled in her eyes. “She’s tough. Besides, who’s going to look after you?”
He smiled to himself as if he knew something she didn’t. “She’ll still do that just fine.” Then, just as quickly, his expression changed to one of detached excitement. “Alright, no more sentimental crap. Lioness, I need my bag.”
Kohaku perked at the sound of her nickname and rolled her eyes. “Not a lioness! I should chuck this at you.”
She did not, in fact, throw Senku’s bag at him. Handed it over like she was giving a piece of herself away. Their fingers brushed in a way Minami could only describe as intentional, as the exchange lasted much too long to be anything but.
They were staring at each other now, locked in a space no one else was privy to. Where there was once plausible deniability, there is now something undeniably soft between them. Kohaku’s smile was true but tinged with wistfulness. Senku’s was torn somewhere between longing and appreciation.
“You’re going to be an amazing scientist, Senku.”
“And you’re going to be the best damn fighter this world has ever seen.”
And yet, in that moment, Minami felt something pause. Like they finished one chapter and folded down the top corner, closing their book and promising to return to it later. Because they were practical and clear headed, and because they prioritized their futures. Those goals of theirs were bright upon the horizon—everything else would have to wait.
It was inspiring, really, but Minami couldn’t help but feel it tragic.