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Mumen comes back from the park’s crowded concession stand to find Garou dead asleep on their blanket, head pillowed on his arm at one end while his legs stretch out off the other. His disguise glasses have slipped halfway off his face. Despite the din of hundreds of other groups gathered along the riverbank to eat and drink and enjoy the explosion of white and pink sakura flowers above them, Garou sleeps soundly, a week’s worth of overtime while covering for a sick co-worker at the convenience store finally having caught up with him.
The day is overcast and cool but bright in a hazy way. It’s good weather for a hanami picnic. Everyone else in Z City seems to share the same idea; there's not a spare patch of grass anywhere, and the sidewalks that meander beneath the trees are packed with people like salmon in a stream. All around are the sounds of children shrieking, people laughing, and cameras clicking. Occasional whiffs of fried food and cheap, sweet convenience-store beer blow through on a light breeze. Overhead, the thousands of flower clusters flutter and sway, sending occasional showers of petals down onto the picnic-goers below. Some soft petals have landed on Garou, stark dabs of blushing white against his blue jeans and black sweatshirt.
Mumen pauses at the blanket’s edge—drinks in one hand and a large paper tray of hot takoyaki in the other—and lets the warmth in his chest become a soft smile on his face.
He tries not to disturb Garou as he steps onto the blanket and carefully sits down. But Garou appears to have only been napping, not sleeping, and rouses quickly at the light crunch of the tarp beneath the blanket.
"Hm'yeah, I'm awake," he mutters, rubbing his eyes and pushing himself upright.
Mumen smiles. "It's all right if you sleep."
Garou shakes his head, finger-combing his short hair and pushing the glasses back into place. He slaps his cheeks a few times for good measure. "No, I'm good. Just need—yeah, thanks." He takes the coffee that Mumen had bought for him at a nearby vending machine. "I'll grab a nap later before work. Yuuto's coming back tomorrow, anyway, so I've only got the regular night shift to get through."
"And you have the next night off, right?"
"Yep." The coffee can hisses as Garou pulls the tab. "But if anyone so much as sniffles near me, I'm sending their ass home. It's bad enough covering for one guy. I don't need the whole place down with the flu. Or spreading it to everyone who comes through the door, for that matter."
Mumen spends a moment appreciating the smooth line of Garou's throat as he gulps down half the coffee in one go. "I appreciate that. You wouldn't believe the number of heroes who are temporarily off-duty with one seasonal illness or the other."
"Oh yeah? Is that why you've been on patrol so much lately?"
"That, and a little bit of spring fever." Mumen cracks the cap off his own drink—sakura-flavored beer—and takes an experimental sip. It's not the best thing he's ever tasted, but it's not the worst. "There's always a bit of a lull in criminal activity in February and early March, when it's too cold for anyone to want to go outside. As soon as the warm weather hits, though, it's like a switch is flipped, and people can't wait to get out and make trouble again." He chuckles wearily and takes another sip of the beer, this time chasing it with a mouthful of hot and savory takoyaki. "I've broken up more gang fights and petty thefts this week than probably in the last month."
Garou nods, expression gone serious. "You're being careful, right? Wearing your body armor and stuff?"
The concern isn't belittling or idle. Even though it's been a few months since the incident with the Dog Catcher, Garou is still sensitive to the possibility of Mumen being seriously hurt. His eyes zone in on every new scratch and bruise, no matter how small, and he keeps their bathroom well-stocked with first aid supplies. When they make love, his hands check every inch of Mumen's body, lingering on scars and savoring every patch of unmarred flesh as though such proof of Mumen's well-being is precious to him.
"Of course," Mumen replies. Garou, satisfied, gulps the rest of his coffee and lies back down on the blanket, arms folded behind his head. He appears to be engrossed in the flutter of flowers overhead. It's the first time in a long time that they've both had enough free hours between them (and at the same time) to go out together. The best they've been able to do since the end of February is grab a bite to eat at the noodle place between Mumen's apartment and the convenience store where Garou works, when Mumen is going out for the day and Garou is coming in from the night. Any other free time is usually spent taking care of household chores or sleeping.
Sex is a luxury that’s become somewhat… scarce.
Mumen takes another sip of his beer and joins Garou in watching the sakura. Each year, he tries to get out at least once during the sakura season to witness the beauty of the flowers and be reminded of their message: that everything in life is impermanent. The sakura bloom for maybe a week each year, the white clumps of flowers on the branches like clouds, only to fall off and blow away in a matter of days. While there, they are sensational and magnificent. But the magic always ends. It makes the time spent enjoying the blossoms feel all the more precious, for how it only happens once each year.
"My manager called me into the office yesterday," Garou says out of nowhere.
Mumen turns his head to look at him. Garou's face is in profile, eyes still pointed upward. "Oh? What about?"
"Usual stuff. Thanks for your hard work, you're a valuable member of the team. The words 'responsible' and 'leader' were thrown around. Guess it looked good when I took all of Yuuto's shifts. Anyway, they wanna train me as a shift supervisor."
Mumen sits up. "That's wonderful!"
"Yeah." Garou licks his lips. "There's a pay raise that goes with it."
It makes no sense for there to be a tight feeling in Mumen's chest. "Congratulations, then. You've certainly earned it. Will you take it?"
"Probably. I could use the extra cash.”
“When will you start?”
“Maybe in a week or two. Some paperwork's gotta get filed." Garou still isn't looking at Mumen, and his tone is too nonchalant to be genuine. "Anyway, it looks like I'll be making enough to support myself pretty soon."
"Ah." Mumen leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Testing the waters, he says, "I suppose it wouldn't make sense for you to keep staying at my place if you can afford your own. I enjoy your company, but the apartment is meant for one and can feel crowded with the two of us."
Garou grunts and nods. "Right."
"Your name isn't even on the lease," Mumen adds, taking note of the tendons standing out on Garou's neck. "Legally, you're a squatter."
Again, Garou grunts an affirmative. "Your landlord's gonna find out sooner or later that I'm living there. It'll look pretty bad if a hero gets caught breaking the law. You've got a reputation as a good guy, I don't wanna mess that up." His voice is conversational but his body is tense. Mumen remembers this version of Garou from their first morning in Mumen's kitchen, when he found the note Garou had intended to leave before disappearing altogether. Stray animals tended to forget what it was like to feel safe and secure, and instead grew to distrust it. Garou had been living with Mumen for several months now, but that didn't change the fact that in his lifetime, he had more experience with rejection and fear than acceptance and trust.
"How much is the pay raise?" Mumen says. "If you don't mind my asking."
Garou tells him, and adds, "It's not much. But I could manage to find someplace livable, near work."
"You could," Mumen agrees. "Still, it doesn't make sense to stretch yourself so thin." Even with the thought in his head—even though he's had this thought in his head for the last month—saying it out loud still frightens him, a little. There's always been a kind of safety in the knowledge that their situation was, thus far, temporary, with an undetermined deadline.
But Mumen is a hero. Being brave is his job, and he tries to live up to that in all aspects of his life, not just when he's on patrol. The only difference between being on his bike out on the streets and sitting here next to Garou on a blanket under a canopy of sakura is that there's no body armor for a person's heart.
"My lease is ending soon," Mumen says. "I don't really feel like paying the renewal fee to keep living somewhere so small. But I don't think I could afford a place much bigger, on my own." He waits to see if that sinks in for Garou.
Garou does turn his head, brow scrunched with confusion. "What are you saying?"
"Move in with me. Officially."
Abruptly, Garou sits up, and suddenly he's much closer. "Are you serious?"
"I wouldn't have said it otherwi—" Mumen can't finish because he's being kissed, passionately. He is in public, surrounded by parents and children and people who would know his face in an instant if he had his goggles on; and for a long and wonderful second, he finds it impossible to care.
Just a second, though. He gently pushes Garou away. Garou lets him, sitting back and pulling a frown that's far too serious for the way he was mauling Mumen's mouth. "I don't want your charity," he says. "If you're just offering because I said that thing about a small apartment, or because you want a bigger one, I'm out. I wanna keep seeing you but I don't wanna move in with you for convenience." He blushes a bit, though his gaze is still fierce. "I'm serious about this and I won't move in if you're not."
Whatever tightness that had lingered in Mumen's chest blooms outward with overwhelming affection and love. "I'm serious, Garou. About you, and about moving in. It's been on my mind for a while." He smiles. "And convenience isn't necessarily a bad thing. If you'll be working more normal hours, our schedules will even out. We'll be able to see more of each other when we're both actually home."
At that, Garou grins. "We're going to have so much sex," he declares, and Mumen laughs until his ribs hurt.
"I'm looking forward to it." A whole sakura flower falls onto the blanket between them, its delicate petals turned upwards towards the sun that's just now peeking through the clouds. Sakura season is fleeting, as many things in life are. But Mumen thinks that the season of him and Garou stands a very good chance of lasting for whole years—even decades—to come.