Heroes Without Capes

Epilogue

Kimishita was snapped out of his studies by a loud beep.

"Shut up," he growled at the microwave as he continued scribbling in his notebook. He should probably get up and grab his food before it got cold again and he had to microwave it a second time, but first he should finish writing down this sentence. And maybe the whole paragraph since he was at it. Then he could easily take a break and eat before going back to studying.

Looking back down at his textbook, he finished writing down his notes before putting his pencil aside and rising from his chair. A quick glance at the clock revealed that Kiichi wouldn't be home for at least half an hour; not much, but for today it was all the time Kimishita needed. He enjoyed having the house to himself and being able to study in peace; college wasn't exactly getting easier, and ever since he had started his last year it had become even more stressful, with deadlines and exams constantly hanging over his head. One couldn't really blame him for getting so immersed in his studies that he forgot about everything else.

Well, at least this time I didn't completely forget to eat, he mused as he made his way over to the kitchen. Kiichi would've yelled at me if I had. He chuckled to himself. As if one skipped meal would kill him. They should both know that he could handle much worse.

Smiling quietly to himself, he took out his food, reached for his chopsticks and started eating, not bothering to sit down. His hunger surged up with the first bite. He really had been starving, studying way past lunchtime without even realizing it, and it wasn't till now that his focus faded and his mind finally paid attention to the demands of his body. Perhaps Kiichi did have a point. He should start setting himself an alarm or something, or someday he might get so immersed in his study session that he accidentally starved himself to death.

Well, not that Kiichi would ever allow it. He and Kiichi had been a couple for five years now and living together for a little over four, and sometimes Kimishita was still amazed how well they worked together, how natural it felt to come home to a giant red-headed idiot lounging on the couch, complaining about practice and asking about his day. If somebody had told his middle school self that they'd ever end up like an embarrassing married couple, he would have called them delusional. Now it seemed delusional to think they could ever live apart from each other again.

Kimishita set down his empty bowl, debating if he should wash it or get seconds. His stomach was asking for seconds, but a look at the clock told him that if he ate any more right now he wouldn't be hungry for dinner. Washing up it was.

He finished drying the bowl and set it back on the cupboard, ready to return to his textbooks and notes when the sound of a key being turned caught his attention. Moments later a set of footsteps stumbled inside, shoes clattered over the floor as they were carelessly kicked off, and the door slammed shut again with a heavy boom. A familiar voice greeted him, more groaning than anything else. "I'm home..."

"Welcome home," Kimishita shouted back across the apartment, sitting back down at his desk. "You're early."

Footsteps dragged past him, heavy and exhausted, and a second later there was a telltale whump from the couch, which complained about the sudden weight with a slight creak. A startled meow responded, and Kimishita could hear Kiichi grumbling something unintelligible, presumably an annoyed reply. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Hey, don't bully the cat," Kimishita remarked, getting up and walking into the living room. "She was quiet all day before you showed up."

Kiichi lay sprawled out on the couch, feet dangling over the edge on one side, head propped up against the other. Sitting on his chest, letting him pet her with the long-suffering expression of a generous donor and probably shedding all over his jersey, was Blob. Blob's real name was Luna – or rather, it had been back when she was still small and cute. Kimishita could still remember the fateful day two years ago when Kiichi had come home with a stray kitten in his hands and a bad case of puppy-dog eyes; Kimishita had snapped at him to take it back until Kiichi pushed the small gray bundle of fur in his face and his heart melted at the sight of the small, soft, helpless thing.