bitcoin scholar junpei tenmyouji (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coolerjunpei) wrote2026-02-21 12:57 pm
coolerjunpei) wrote2026-02-21 12:57 pm
gay psl
[After the world—or simulation or whatever—was reset, Junpei didn't expect any of their relative circumstances to escalate. He thought, well, about due for a break from all that bullshit, so it'll be smooth sailing from here on out. Imagine his surprise to blink and find himself standing in the Nevada desert again one day, then, only months older and more confused than ever and without Charles.
(Gab, however, did happen to be there.)
The whole... Nevada thing... is difficult to get away from at first, both because crises keep popping up and because certain people in the Nevada Group (only Junpei is calling them that) keep being weird about it, but soon enough he's on a plane going to London and not hunched over a desk in an American office somewhere, conspiracy theorizing about mega-terrorists. There's never actually a question in his mind about any of it—was it real (of course), should he keep their promise (absolutely)—and so he's resolute about getting on the plane as soon as he can.
And Gab is with him, too. Doing great on the plane like a real champ. Junpei has never been more on edge in his life, which is saying something after his life, and either this is a really stupid idea or the only idea that makes sense. He supposes he'll find out soon enough.
First, though, he gets lost in London; although his plane lands in the early morning, it's dragging into the late afternoon that he finally finds where he thinks he's supposed to be. He's still got his backpack (he doesn't own a suitcase) and has Gab tucked in one arm to spare his old man legs, and he's tired, and he's nervous, and if he doesn't march right up and knock on the door right now he's going to evaporate on the spot, so here goes. Unfortunately he's a loser, so he says the first thing that comes to mind when one of Charles's presumably living friends answers the door:]
—Uh, [cool start] I need you to punch a guy straight to hell for me. Is that, like... extra?
[haha....]
(Gab, however, did happen to be there.)
The whole... Nevada thing... is difficult to get away from at first, both because crises keep popping up and because certain people in the Nevada Group (only Junpei is calling them that) keep being weird about it, but soon enough he's on a plane going to London and not hunched over a desk in an American office somewhere, conspiracy theorizing about mega-terrorists. There's never actually a question in his mind about any of it—was it real (of course), should he keep their promise (absolutely)—and so he's resolute about getting on the plane as soon as he can.
And Gab is with him, too. Doing great on the plane like a real champ. Junpei has never been more on edge in his life, which is saying something after his life, and either this is a really stupid idea or the only idea that makes sense. He supposes he'll find out soon enough.
First, though, he gets lost in London; although his plane lands in the early morning, it's dragging into the late afternoon that he finally finds where he thinks he's supposed to be. He's still got his backpack (he doesn't own a suitcase) and has Gab tucked in one arm to spare his old man legs, and he's tired, and he's nervous, and if he doesn't march right up and knock on the door right now he's going to evaporate on the spot, so here goes. Unfortunately he's a loser, so he says the first thing that comes to mind when one of Charles's presumably living friends answers the door:]
—Uh, [cool start] I need you to punch a guy straight to hell for me. Is that, like... extra?
[haha....]
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anyway. in the end, both edwin and crystal have to accept that charles hadn't just hallucinated it all, as much as it sounds like it (and yeah, there's crystal going snake people, charles, really while edwin pinches the bridge of his nose like the whole thing's giving him a headache, which is a little unfair as it's actually charles' head that's dealing with all of this) — which also means he hadn't hallucinated junpei.
five years. he can do five years.
(he promises himself he won't look. and he almost, almost keeps it — he looks only once, wills the mirror to show him what he wants, and he sees junpei sitting in a cramped apartment, on the floor, staring at the ceiling, and edwin has to physically restrain him from going through the mirror right then and there; he doesn't know you, charles, what good do you think it will do, going there? if you go there now, you may change things, which in turn may change everything else. are you willing to risk everything? and charles isn't, of course he isn't, but he doesn't think there are many times in his life and afterlife he's felt worse, than when he lets the mirror fade into nothing in front of him.)
still. years pass, and there are cases, cases upon cases, and they find niko in her alternate dimension and bring her back, and crystal graduates and goes on to study to become an actual detective, and charles waits.
on this very foggy morning, edwin is out and crystal is still sleeping in her flat, so it's just charles and niko when there's a knock on the door.
when the door opens, it's a tiny asian woman with platinum blonde hair who greets junpei with a sunny smile. ]
Hi! No, that sounds really good! I mean, usually we solve murders instead of causing them, but — [ she blinks, pauses mid-sentence to peer at him, at his dog, and then lets out a squeal that tries its best to break the sound barrier. ]
Oh my god, I can't believe this! You're really here! That's so romantic, hold on, I read a manga just like this —
[ and then, in a flurry, she's grabbing his arm and dragging him into the office and then hurrying out of the door with a bright, ] We're totally taking your case, by the way, but have fun first! See you later!
[ the door slams with a decisive thud! behind him.
from further in the office, though, comes a very puzzled, ] Niko? I heard you go super sonic, everything —
[ — alright, except charles never gets to finish his sentence as he rounds the corner, absolutely unchanged, wearing his usual uniform and everything, and stares at junpei like he's the ghost here. ]
... Junpei? [ charles isn't sure what his voice sounds like, trying to blend a million emotions at once, but he thinks the one that wins out might be choked surprise. he had waited, yes, and would have waited as many years as necessary... but deep down, he knows he'd never quite been sure that when junpei's memories caught up with him, he'd actually do this. oh, he'd told himself plenty of times that he could be sure, that the same way charles himself had been waiting all these five years, junpei would remember and would hold to their promise, but those five years had taken their toll, and by the end of them, the surety had eroded, slowly, until it had turned into defiant hope that people less stubborn than charles rowland would probably have given up on. ]
no subject
Dizzying. Junpei's friends just try to kill each other (ha ha). To the closing door he says,]
Wait, but is it actually extra, I'm not exactly rolling in dough—
[And then she's gone, and he's left standing there with dog and backpack. If he were anyone else he might get a moment to breathe and collect himself, but of course that doesn't happen to Junpei, and so he's frozen to the spot instantly at the sound of Charles's voice just out of sight. Charles rounds the corner the same as he ever was, of course he'd be, but it makes Junpei uncomfortably aware of how travel-rumpled and exhausted he must look, standing here with his stupid little backpack with the checked bag sticker still hanging off of it.
For an eternity of two whole seconds—and after Niko's extremely overt recognition, even—his whole stomach drops out in sudden fear that maybe she thought he was some other Asian guy in a wrinkled airport t-shirt that someone happened to be, like, romantically waiting for, but luckily Charles can still croak out his name. That's good—that's great. Junpei smiles at him only a little, because if he moves his face too much he is going to start crying, and Charles's friends could be back at any minute.
He says,] Almost thought this was gonna be the most expensive woops of my life for a second. Hang on, I've been wondering something this whole time.
[He shifts to put Gab down on the floor between them, watching the old dog intently as he snuffles around and then inevitably trots over to Charles and flops at his feet; somewhere in a notebook Junpei can cross out "Gab memories for real???" now. Later.
Without the dog to keep his hands busy he hooks his thumbs around his backpack straps, decides that looks like a little kid going to his first day of school, and tries to coolly hook his belt loops instead. He misses one. Forget it.]
Soooo... hey. I'd have been here sooner, but, y'know... traffic.
[hA..... he coughs.]
Stop me before I start telling you my arms are tired from flying in, c'mon.
no subject
(like that could have happened.)
the door has absolutely no response for junpei, no reassurances for his financial state of affairs; and charles, when he gets there, falls deafeningly silent after the choked-out syllables of junpei's name. so of course junpei goes on talking, and the lightly nervous lilt to his voice is so achingly familiar and yet it feels like it's been far more than five years since charles has heard it that it's like someone's punched him to the chest real hard, hard enough to expel all the air that's definitely not in his lungs anymore.
gab makes his way over to him, rolling at his feet. charles has no idea if the dog actually remembers anything or if he's just somehow always this friendly, and a part of him really, really wants to crouch down to pet him but a larger part of him is frozen, still, watching junpei fumble with his belt loops in a move that's both awkward and terribly charming. and that, of all things, is what makes charles exhale a wet laugh before he's striding right through poor gab, crossing the distance between them and corporealising himself just in time for dragging junpei into a painfully tight hug. ]
You're real, yeah? [ is what he mumbles into junpei's hair, like he's still half-expecting someone to tell him that this is a hallucination, that he's caught in some kind of a spell, that he can't possibly be so lucky that junpei's actually, really, truly here. ]
no subject
Maybe not so impossible for his particular Nevada audience, but all the same: he didn't bother. Getting to Charles had been more important, and now he's standing here babbling about traffic and trying to look calm and collected in his Big Ben t-shirt and beat-up backpack with the extra chest strap.
Gab makes a sort of sleepy-startled huffing noise when Charles steps right through him, and Junpei glances down at the dog just in time for Charles to body him completely; he makes the same startled huffing noise. Then he's hastily yanking his one competent thumb out of his belt loop to wrap his arms around Charles and squeeze in against him, already choked up at the familiarity of it. Snarky levity abandons him in an instant, leaving him with no recourse but to cling onto Charles and mumble,] Yeah. I triple-checked.
[Maybe a little levity, if not delivered like the entirety of everything he's ever felt for Charles comes packaged with it. He's content to stand there just like this for as long as either of them is able—he won't be able to resist looking Charles in the face for long—but, also:]
She, uh... [ahem.] Well, she said it was like a manga? I mean, it's definitely more like that movie, isn't it? With the magic mailbox and the lake house...?
no subject
in the world that he inhabits, the one where spirits and ghosts and witches are the norm, charles doesn't think his question is all that far-fetched. but junpei's response makes him huff out a laugh regardless, his eyes burning and his tone almost painfully fond when he says, ]
Haven't seen that one. Is it good? [ and then, immediately, not waiting for a response, ] I reckon not as good as this.
[ with a squeeze of his arms, he finally pulls back a little, just so he can actually look at junpei, truly look at him and try and see everything he had forgotten — the exact shade of his eyes, the way one strand of his hair wants to stick up no matter what he does. he's aware that he must be staring at junpei like one might look at a piece of priceless treasure, but he can't bring himself to care. it's not that far from the truth, anyway. ]
I want to ask you everything, but also... [ but also it's very hard to care about the specifics of how long it's been for junpei, when he got back, how everything went, when he's so elated beyond all reason that he could simply stand here for the next twenty-four hours, just like this. ]
no subject
So any of those would be good. Even if, when Charles pulls back to look at him, looking back at him is—somehow—almost difficult? They've both kept the promise and Junpei has been thinking of nothing except Charles since Nevada, but there's an overwhelming quality to just seeing him that makes him glance down at Charles's shirt collar instead of his eyes, to fiddle with it to keep his hands busy until the rest of him calms down.
It's—happiness, he realizes, and it feels like it's going to knock him out because he can't remember having been this happy before Charles. A few weeks without him, even holding onto the anticipation of seeing him again, really took him down a couple notches so easily...
He'd rather be here, smiling his tiny fond smile at Charles's shoulder while his heart lodges up in his throat. Ah.]
You really need to see more movies, man. We're in the same year now, soooo... no excuse.
[But! Later. He shakes his head; he doesn't want to talk about the gritty details of his return either, so,] Can I throw my bag somewhere?
no subject
but as much as charles is staring at junpei, the opposite doesn't seem to be true — try as he might, he can't catch junpei's eyes, though there doesn't seem to be a reason for him to think it's because of anything bad. perhaps before, he'd have spiraled very quickly, assuming it's because junpei's regretting his decision to come here, or something like that... but not anymore.
so instead of answering the question, he ducks down a little, lifts his hands so they rest on the sides of junpei's neck, moving his thumb so he can push at junpei's chin a little, try and lift it up. ]
Hey. Course you can, but... look at me, yeah?
[ he wonders, again, what it must have been like, for junpei — to wake up back in nevada, to deal with all the craziness he'd told him about, to leave it all behind on nothing but hope that charles remembered, too, and that he was still here, after five years. after all, his afterlife isn't an easy thing, his job is full of danger, and even without the whole memory thing... there'd have been no guarantees they wouldn't have taken a case too much for them in the years since he'd returned.
he'd at least had the reassurance that junpei existed, that if the five-year mark had passed, he could have gone looking for him with just a step through a mirror. ]
It's not just me who needs to know this is real, is it? But it is. You're really here. And I'm really here. And just — you being here right now's the best thing to have happened in the past fifty years.
no subject
That's also for later, though. He doesn't resist when Charles tips his head up, but it takes him a few tries of glancing at his face and back before he actually manages to sustain the eye contact for more than a split second. This is real, and in the moment it's both the most amazing thing that's ever happened to him and absolutely terrifying. When he was in the desert, on the plane, wandering around London this afternoon— all of those moments were not quite real, not yet. They were just Junpei running after someone he loves again, caught in the purgatory of searching.
Because he's done this song and dance before, hasn't he? Look where that got him. Charles is not Akane, this is the most obvious truth in the world, and yet the fear that something will ruin this at the last moment is still... there.
(And like hell if he's going to say it, but the something is definitely himself, somehow.)]
No, yeah, I know. This is happening. [Now he's getting teary-eyed, of course, blinking a few times to get rid of it because he's not going to do something stupid like let go of Charles just to wipe his face.] It's just, uh... I don't think I got how real until you walked in the room, you know?
[He huffs out another short laugh, shaking his head.]
And I haven't showered, so I've got airline funk.