૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

@0Invst_ “is it that time of the year already~?” ♪ he makes a grand gesture of thinking. “only if you bring the mat.”

@transicnt "Niko! Let's go sakura viewing next week! Are ya free~?"

@0Invst_ urgh . . . 💧 he should’ve known better than to make a bold-faced lie to a detective. niko takes the fork in his hand and cuts the fudge into two equal pieces, before—cutting it again into four equal pieces? important question: “with or without the ice cream first?”

@transicnt < "Hee~ Should I believe that?" the detective asks, nudging Niko's waist with a laugh. "I'll think 'bout it. Eat the chocolate fudge first, 'kay? I want to hear yer opinion on it!”

@transicnt "Happy Valentine’s Day, Niko~" The detective pounces on his boyfriend happily, like a clingy puppy greeting its master. He truly enjoys the warmth between them before stepping back, a smile still lingering on his lips. >

@0Invst_ but the thing about dying is . . . things will feel unfamiliar because you’ve spent so long in your head: waiting, ruminating, playing out unrealistic scenarios, and . . . “ —— .ᐟ my flower’s bloomed ~ ♪ “ it puts a weak and wobbly smile to his face.

@0Invst_ his eyes dart around the café. a place he should have known so well—just like the way fumicchan knows him like the back of his hand. . . . except he doesn’t. nothing’s changed much. it’s as he remembered it, with some touches he knows are fumicchan’s attentive ideas. +

@0Invst_ “you’re so thoughtful as usual…~ ah, but fumicchan, i didn’t get you anything at all for today.” definitely a lie. there is a wrapped something placed near the door. niko fakes a pout. “is that alright~?”

@0Invst_ it grosses him a little. his deaths, that is. but this isn’t the right time to reminisce a bad time that has gone by. in fact . . . “i’m sure i’ll like it! thank you, fumicchan~” cooed out, right before a kiss landed on fumicchan’s cheek. +

obviously that was a joke gift. the real gift is something else wrapped in paper and is placed close-by. happy birthday, fumicchan! ♡

puts a little something on @0Invst_’s palm. “happy birthday, fumicchan ~ ♡ take care of your beautiful eyes this year and don’t stare at the screen for too long.”

@0Invst_ a wide smile blossoms on his face as he looks at the cookies, but then turns into a confused look as fumicchan continues on. "you say that like you're going to leave. don't you wanna stay and talk for a little bit, fumicchan~?"

@transicnt "It's Christmas, Niko! I brought ya some cookies that might suit your taste~" He grins happily "Enjoy 'em with a hot chocolate or even coffee. Have a pleasant day on Christmas~"

@0Invst_ he gives fumicchan’s shoulder a weak pat. not that he could do anything stronger than that. “oh, have you been well? you’re eating well, right, fumicchan~?” he tries to steer the conversation away from his revival.

@0Invst_ . . . . . . . . uwaaaaaaahhh — .ᐟ .ᐟ he’s going to cry too from being sooooo darn happy that someone misses him and doesn’t freak the fuck out when they see him again after his supposed death. but… “f—fumicchan… it’s totally alright, you don’t have to cry, alright-?” +

@0Invst_ instinctual small smile on his face that came from whiffing up the cozy scent of hot cocoa. and maybe he didn’t heard the part where fumicchan wished him a happy birthday…?

@0Invst_ upon feeling a kiss on his head, niko flinch a little and groans. “fumicchan~” whined out as he lazily rolls around. his eyes are still closed when he follows up with: “it’s too early, isn’t it? why are you making chocolate milk?” despite the question, there is a sleepy and +

Fumiya is whistling in the kitchen while preparing something sweet and warm. He is trying to make it using melted chocolate bars, which are then mixed with hot milk. Another inovation rather than using a chocolate powder. That's way too common, he thought of that. >

@0Invst_ but he couldn't bring himself to. instead, a small smile crept onto his face; unfettered and touched. he twists a little and calls out the other's name: "fumicchan...~" his boyfriend. fumicchan.

@0Invst_ the first thing that he felt upon contact is how the touch had hit his bony arm–worsened only by months' worth of muscle atrophy. he'd recognize the voice anywhere: the very tone and timbre of it. he feels like he should be surprised that fumicchan is here, +

He enters through the back door and heads straight to the toilet, unaware of @0Invst_ who is also in the café.

The café is bright when it came to his periphery. He doesn’t know why, doesn’t care to know why either. The sunken hollow of his face and his disheveled appearance convey the same apathy as well.