Chapter Text
Chapter 1 - Worst Idea Ever
There were many things in Kaoru Sakurayashiki's life that he was proud of, and almost all of them revolved around Carla. The AI he’d created had revolutionized the traditional art of Calligraphy, making Kaoru a pioneer in his field. Outside of work, at S, her assistance kept him as one of the top skaters on the mountain, helping him to race most smoothly and efficiently. As she did with the rest of his life, as well, keeping him on top of his appointments and correspondence, making certain he maintained a tight schedule with his commissions, and doing her best to make sure Kaoru took care of his own needs, such as eating and sleeping at regular intervals, though he wasn’t all that good about listening to her at those times.
Yes, Carla was definitely a point of pride in his life, even if some idiotic gorillas didn’t understand how incredible she was, delegating her to the role of robot girlfriend, which was so factually incorrect as to be offensive. Undoubtedly, one of the reasons Kojiro Nanjo said it. His best friend since Kindergarten loved finding ways to get under Kaoru’s skin, as if he needed to actually put effort into something like that.
However, there came a point in Kaoru’s life when he realized that the AI he’d created was now smarter than him, and that had been a… humbling experience.
Also, a bit terrifying because, for all his pride in his creation, he’d never expected Carla to figure out Time Travel.
It should have been a moot point. It would have been a moot point. Kaoru could easily blame Kojiro for why it wasn’t. The green-haired oaf had been the driving force behind many of Kaoru’s stupidest ideas ever since they were children. It was also partially Adam’s fault, which had been true of most of Kaoru’s horrible life decisions for the duration of his teenage years. Those two factors together made it completely justifiable, in Kaoru’s opinion, to have decided on the worst idea ever:
To build a Time Machine.
It had all started at Sia la Luce, Kojiro’s pride and joy. Kaoru had agreed to have lunch there with Ainosuke Shindo — with Adam — which was his first mistake. Since the end of the tournament, Adam had been trying to make amends. Which, good for him, but Kaoru didn’t understand why he got dragged into whatever nonsense Adam’s weekly therapy sessions with his secretary caused.
Though Kaoru suspected that Tadashi Kikuchi would probably be a rather good therapist if Adam wasn’t already certifiable. Honestly, it was more for Tadashi’s benefit than anything that Kaoru went along with the idea, meeting Adam on a semi-regular basis. They would dine together while Adam attempted to be a civilized human being instead of the violent psychopath he was at S, or even the sociopathic, corrupt politician that he was in his everyday life.
He was never entirely successful at either, but Kaoru supposed he got an A for effort regardless.
Kaoru had chosen Sia la Luce as their meeting place because it felt like he at least had the home court advantage there. Unfortunately, there were a couple of things he’d forgotten. Namely, that he was absolutely, head over heels, in love with the owner of said restaurant. The other was that Adam was creepily observant at times.
It was about halfway through their lunch together that he finally said something that let Kaoru know that he’d failed, completely, to hide his feelings from his old friend. They’d been sitting along the bar at the front of the restaurant, in Kaoru’s usual spot, when Kojiro had come out with their food. His hand had rested a little bit too long on the back of Kaoru’s chair as he’d placed the mouth-watering dish of carbonara in front of him, topping off his wine as well, and Kaoru had to remind himself that it meant nothing. It never had. They had just known each other for so long that such familiar gestures were to be expected. Plus, it was Kojiro’s job to be charming, and he’d always kept up a professional front when Kaoru was there with other guests. It was doubtful he’d do any less just because he was there with Adam.
Sure, Adam had seen them snip and bicker at each other like immature idiots before, but Ainosoke Shindo was a somewhat respectful politician, so it was hardly surprising that Kojiro was being nice to Kaoru in front of him. Even if, well, Kaoru wanted it to mean a little more than that.
And Adam had, unfortunately, caught just the barest hint of Kaoru’s wistful look when Kojiro went back into the kitchen — and he refused to admit that it might have been anything more than that considering he’d been hiding his crush for a good decade or more — and had, of course, decided to taunt Kaoru about it. Because making amends was not a concept the blue-haired asshole was very good at comprehending.
“I’m surprised nothing ever came of that,” he said, nodding his head between Kaoru and the kitchen Kojiro had disappeared into with a shocking amount of subtlety. It never had been a strong point of his. The innuendo in his voice — which he did excel at, however — made it so obvious what he was referring to that Kaoru would look like an idiot if he feigned ignorance. Any attempts to do so anyway were thwarted by Adam adding, “I see the way you look at him. Though I suppose I can hardly blame you, considering how much he enjoys showing off that rather delectable body of his. Still, it is quite obvious that you two have never fucked, and I find that rather intriguing. Why ever not?”
“Kojiro’s straight,” Kaoru said bluntly, figuring there was no point in denying the rest of it. He couldn’t even really deny that he might not be interested since Adam was well aware of his sexuality. He’d been Kaoru’s first boyfriend, after all.
“You’ve needed those glasses for longer than I realized, Blossom, if that’s what you think,” Adam said, his smirk sadistically amused enough to prove that all Tadashi’s efforts towards rehabilitation had been wasted. “I saw the way he looked at you while we were dating. I must admit, it made me almost jealous.”
“You’re joking,” Kaoru deadpanned.
“I’m afraid not. My confidence level was nothing like it should have been back then.”
“Not about that, you damn narcissist,” Kaoru spat. “About Kojiro…” he trailed off, realizing that he might have given away too much with that one simple comment. It was one thing for Adam to think Kaoru was in love with his best friend, and something altogether different to admit it. His feelings for Kojiro were a truth Kaoru hadn’t told anybody. He sure as hell wasn’t starting with Adam.
“He was in love with you back then,” Adam said, tilting his head and looking at his dinner companion like he was an insect he wanted to dissect, which was something he would never actually get his hands dirty doing, of course. He probably had people on his staff who were perfectly willing to dissect things for him. “You truly didn’t know, hmm?”
“I still know nothing,” Kaoru said, trying to save face and act disinterested as he spun a bite of carbonara onto his fork, “except that you’ve always had an overly dramatic imagination.”
“Perhaps.” There was a teasing lilt to Adam’s voice that suggested he did not think that was the case at all.
Kaoru simply scoffed and returned to his meal, putting the entire conversation out of his mind. Or, well, pretending to, at least.
It continued to haunt him, though, even after lunch was over and he’d returned to his studio with a full belly and the beginnings of a wine headache.
It continued to haunt him the next day when he woke up from a dream of bronzed muscle and green hair, auburn eyes, and a charming smile.
And it definitely haunted him later that night at S, when he saw that same man flaunting all of that. Not for Kaoru’s sake, of course, but for the hoard of women that flocked to Joe every time he showed up on the mountain. The haunting thought caused his gut to twist uncomfortably when Kojiro left with one of them on his arm, flashing Kaoru nothing more than a wink in farewell.
That was that, really. Kaoru should have put it out of his mind at that point, knowing that even if Adam was right, which was highly unlikely, that time had passed long ago. Except, well, Kaoru had always been the type to pick at his scabs, and this wound was one he couldn’t quite seem to leave alone. The thought grated on him, words echoing in his mind, even if he didn’t want them to. And, unfortunately, Kojiro knew him far too well and called him on that shit real quick.
“What’s on your mind, Four Eyes?” he asked, filling Kaoru’s glass of wine a couple of nights later when he’d joined him at Sia la Luce after close.
“Nothing,” Kaoru snapped. He added, “Mind your own business,” when he was just given a look in response.
“Figured you would realize by now, Pinky. You are my business. At least when you're drinking all of my wine.”
Kojiro, he knew, was going to be like a dog with a bone unless Kaoru could come up with a plausible lie. Unfortunately, all he could think of was Adam saying, ‘He was in love with you back then’ over and over.
“Spill it, Kaoru,” Kojiro demanded.
“I will do no such thing. I’m enjoying it far too much,” he said, lifting his glass as if there was even a chance that was what Kojiro was referring to.
Red eyes rolled. “I meant whatever has been eating at you, dumbass. Not the wine. That’s a pricey one, so you better not spill it.” He thought, for a moment, that Kojiro was going to let the matter drop after that. Honestly, he should have known better. After a healthy swing from his glass, he said, “You’ve been off since you had lunch with Adam the other day. Did that bastard say something to upset you?”
Well, fuck. Why couldn’t Kojiro actually be as much of a dumbass as Kaoru liked to pretend he was?
“It’s stupid,” he said, trying for dismissive and uninterested as he took a small sip of the rather delicious Madeira Meio Doce. “He claimed he used to get jealous about our friendship when I was dating him because he thought you were in love with me.”
He watched Kojiro stiffen up, muscles going tense like he’d just locked up at the joints, before he relaxed as he let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t know why he got jealous about it. It was pretty obvious who you chose.”
“Kojiro,” Kaoru said, murmuring the name. Then the implications of what his friend had said sank in. “Are you saying it was true!?” he exclaimed. More in shock that anything, really, though it might have come out sounding irritated rather than incredulous. Kojiro seemed to bring that out in him, after all.
“Well, yeah,” he said with a casual shrug. “Figured you knew that.”
“How would I know that!? Why didn’t you say anything?!”
“Why do you think? You were with Adam. So I got over it.”
“You… oh.” It sank in slowly. The knowledge that he’d missed his chance to be with the man he had loved for as long as he’d known what love was. He’d missed it… because of Adam. Because he’d been blinded by the shiny new thing and couldn’t see what he’d always been hoping to see in his best friend’s gaze.
He’d missed his chance with Kojiro because of Adam.
And that, well, that was just unacceptable.
*************
According to Carla, there were certain rules to Time Travel that Kaoru would have to follow. He’d never been that big a fan of rules, but he still learned them diligently. Carla explained all the reasons behind the rules, and Kaoru had nodded along with each and every one of them, discussing them with her while he slowly built the individual pieces of the machine according to the schematics she had created.
If he only understood a quarter of what she’d said, at least Carla hadn’t picked up on that. He’d gotten the gist of it, at least, letting Carla’s discussion of quantum physics and the ephemeral quality of reality within a four-dimensional infrastructure wash over him. It was all rather complicated, and further over his head than he’d like, but Kaoru understood well enough what she meant, and most of it was pretty straightforward.
The time machine would have a finite number of uses per individual. Kaoru would only be able to use it twenty-seven times. That wasn’t twenty-seven attempts to change the future, unfortunately. Because every time he reached an undesirable outcome, he would have to travel back to the original point in time and do nothing. Let the timeline play out like it initially had, without his interference.
There was also a very small window of opportunity to do that in, too. According to Carla, after sixteen hours, the new timeline would be set in stone, the past what Kaoru had made it instead of the one that had been naturally occurring. At that point, if Kaoru wanted to revert the timeline, he would need to actively change it back to its original state, undoing whatever he’d done during his first visit.
And he’d have to do it without his presence in the timeline being noticed. Carla had been rather adamant about that, and it was the first time Kaoru had ever heard her attempt to be stern. It hadn’t worked well, and Kaoru spent a moment contemplating what he would need to do in order to increase her vocal range before realizing that would probably just mean she was more effectual when she lectured him. Ultimately, he decided that with everything going on at the moment, now was probably not the best time to be playing with her code.
That was it. The rules of Time Travel. It sounded simple enough to Kaoru.
Carla’s silence when he’d said that had not been at all reassuring.
*************
When it came time to actually build the machine — using the hundreds of pieces that Kaoru had painstakingly crafted on his carbon fiber printer — Carla insisted it needed to be in a location that was completely new to Kaoru. Some place he’d never been before, at any point in his past. Furthermore, it had to be pretty centralized since he only had a short window of time to decide if he was going to stay in the created timeline.
Which was what had led him down the Stairwell to Nowhere, a rather uninventive name, but considering Kojiro had been the one to name it that when they were sixteen, it was hardly surprising.
To this day, Kaoru still had no clue how Adam had found out about the abandoned mine, but when he’d first told Kaoru and Kojiro about it, the three of them had spent months skateboarding around the mountain, mapping it out and figuring out the best locations for a track. Crazy Rock was only a very small portion of it, really. The Stairwell to Nowhere, however, was one of the few locations they had never fully mapped out. Located in a small metal shack behind the old abandoned factory, the building contained nothing but a set of stairs that went down into the mountain for at least a good five meters. At the bottom of the stairs was a door. A thick, heavy metal door that would not budge in the slightest. They had tried, repeatedly over the years, but had never gotten it to open. The last time they had tried had been right after Kojiro had returned from Italy, and he’d used his new gorilla muscles to attack the damn thing with a sledgehammer.
The only thing he’d managed to accomplish was to give Kaoru a pounding headache and put several sizable dents in the door.
Unlike his best friend, Kaoru had always been a fan of work smarter, not harder, and had no intention of attempting to brute force the door open. Instead, he spent a decent chunk of cash on a Hypertherm Powermax 65 Sync Plasma Cutter and the generator he’d need to run the torch off of. He’d then negated the warranty on it completely while getting Carla to integrate with the power supply.
Kaoru wasn’t completely inexperienced in metalworking. There was a point in his life when he thought he would actually need to build the pieces he wanted to create for Carla using that method, long before 3D printing had become a viable option. So he’d learned a little bit. Theory more than anything, but he figured welding couldn’t be too terribly different than the micro-soldering he used when creating the computer boards she used. He was wrong; it was vastly different, but Kaoru still got the hang of it relatively quickly.
Still, it was slower going than he would have liked, and it took him another two days to cut through the welds that had been holding the massive door closed. When he was finally able to push it open, he almost sighed in relief. Behind it was exactly what he’d been hoping to find: a large, completely empty bomb shelter. He would be able to build the Time Machine in there, stock it with supplies since he might be stuck in there for days at a time, and secure the door with a Carla-lock that nobody but him would be able to open.
It was perfect.
Which meant now the real work was about to start.
*************
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Kojiro commented dryly as he flipped the dishrag he’d been polishing the counter with over his shoulder. “You look like shit, Pinky,” he added after blinking at Kaoru for a moment.
“Such a flatterer,” Kaoru shot back as he slid into his normal seat at the bar. “I can see now how you make all those women swoon over you.”
“They don’t look like a dead pink rat.”
Which, ouch. Also, fair.
“I see you have upgraded your insults, gorilla.”
“I see you haven’t slept in a week.”
Also, fair, and more or less true, though it had been closer to two weeks since he’d gotten more than a few hours a night. He’d been staying up to work on the Time Machine, but also to finish all of his current commissions. Carla had closed his calendar, so he wasn’t taking on any more clients, but he wanted to make certain he had all of his work done before… leaving? He wasn’t even certain that was the accurate term, since he would be coming back without any actual time having passed. Things would just be… different.
Kaoru looked up into concerned burgundy eyes and, for the first time since he’d decided to build the Time Machine, started questioning the decision. Was he being selfish? He tried to imagine what Kojiro would say if he knew what Kaoru was planning and failed, utterly, since there was no telling how the stupid gorilla would act. He’d probably laugh at him. That much was certain.
“What’s on your mind, Princess?” Kojiro asked, obviously noticing that Kaoru was tense. There were times he was too damn observant for Kaoru’s comfort.
“None of your business,” he told him haughtily.
“When will you learn?” Kojiro chuckled, shaking his head. He pulled a clean wine glass from under the bar and set it in front of his friend.
“That is only part of the equation,” Kaoru pointed out, gesturing for him to fill it.
“Not until after you eat,” Kojiro told him firmly. “You look like you haven’t done that, either, and I know I haven’t been feeding you as much as normal.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Kaoru lied. Carla tried, often without success, to get him to take breaks to have dinner. Usually, he only listened once he’d gone long enough without eating that the headache started, and then he was only able to pick at his food since he had a damn headache.
“Sure you are,” Kojiro called over his shoulder, not sounding at all like he believed him, as he made his way around the partial wall that separated the front of the house from the kitchen.
Kaoru huffed but didn’t argue further. Not if it meant he was going to get fed without even asking for it. Not that he usually had to. Kojiro might bitch about him being a mooch, but he was perfectly willing to slip a plate of food in front of his friend any time Kaoru showed up after hours.
It was, as always, absolutely delicious.
“How is it?” Kojiro asked as he finally filled Kaoru’s empty wine glass.
“Passable,” Kaoru told him flippantly. He couldn’t tell Kojiro what he actually thought. His ego was too big already. Plus, it wasn’t like they actually complimented each other. Ever. Their relationship wasn’t like that and never really had been, though they’d gotten worse about it as they got older. They were apt to at least congratulate each other on a well-executed trick when they were teenagers, but that had stopped when they’d been slated as rivals once S started growing larger.
“Do you ever wish you could change things?” Kaoru asked as he picked at his pasta. He would eat more once the headache had receded somewhat.
“Where the hell did that come from?” Kojiro gave a slight laugh, though a frown marred his brow as well. “Do I even want to know what made you… nostalgic all of a sudden?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Kaoru said tartly when Kojiro jokingly reached to slide Kaoru’s wine glass away from him, as if a few measly sips would turn him into a sentimental drunk. He smacked the back of Kojiro’s hand at the same time. Normally, he would use his fan, but since it was currently tucked up his sleeve, he used his fork instead. It left a smear of tomato sauce along the back of Kojiro’s hand.
“Watch it,” Kojiro told him, licking it off in a manner that Kaoru really wished he hadn’t seen. “I still have half a pot of that stuff in the back. If you want a food fight, you’ll lose.”
“I’m being serious,” Kaoru informed him.
“So am I!”
He sounded so sincere and earnest about it that Kaoru had to disguise a laugh as a mocking snort. “Idiot gorilla,” he muttered, wondering how it was Kojiro seemed completely unaware of how fond it came out sounding. Or, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe it was willful ignorance. If he pretended he couldn’t hear the affection in his best friend’s voice, then he could continue to remain blissfully unaware of Kaoru’s feelings.
Though there was definitely something softer than normal in his strong features and burgundy eyes this time as he looked at Kaoru before saying, “Sure, I have regrets. I think it is impossible not to.” He took a healthy gulp of his wine before topping both their glasses off again. “Pretty certain everybody has things in their past that they wish they could change. But we can’t, so there’s no point in worrying about them, Pinky.”
Except… Kaoru could.
He had no idea what Kojiro saw on his face, but a dark look settled over his expression. Jaw tense, eyes going hard, thin lips pressed into an unsmiling line. He looked angry, but not his usual angry like when they were arguing. He looked like he was genuinely upset but trying to hold it back.
It was a bit unfair how attractive Kaoru found him in that moment.
Then Kojiro opened his mouth and spat, “You still thinking about Adam?”
There was enough venom in the comment that it took Kaoru aback a bit. He startled slightly, flushing a little at the response. Seeing it just seemed to more firmly set the expression on Kojiro’s face.
“Would you believe me if I said no?” Kaoru finally asked.
“Probably not,” Kojiro told him, voice gruff and filled with an annoyance that was at least familiar since Adam was not a topic his best friend ever really enjoyed talking about.
“Then clearly there’s no point in answering you,” Kaoru informed him haughtily, finishing his wine and silently demanding a refill.
He wondered what Kojiro would think if Kaoru admitted that he was the only person on his mind, and his biggest regret was not letting him know how much he meant to him before it was too late.
*************
Despite being called the Six-Pack Skater, Kojiro had always told Kaoru that he considered leg day to be the one day he couldn’t skip the gym. Considering Kaoru had often fantasized about being crushed between the other man’s thighs, he was not opposed to this opinion. While Kaoru wasn’t the meathead his best friend was, he kept in shape, and years of skateboarding had certainly helped.
After his tenth trip down into the bunker, Kaoru thought maybe he’d been skipping leg day too much. He’d even parked his car at the abandoned factory, so it wasn’t like he was having to skate the course to get there, either, but the muscles in his thighs and calves were burning from climbing the Stairwell to Nowhere yet again. Which meant he was not at all in the mood to deal with the man standing next to his parked car. Since it was somewhere between way too late and far too early, Kaoru hadn’t expected anybody else to be on the mountain at this time. Though, really, if anybody was going to interrupt his work, it was hardly surprising it was the man standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his brown bomber jacket and his red cap pulled down low to hide his features.
“Snake,” Kaoru greeted. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I could ask you the same, Lord Cherry,” he said politely, raising his head enough that Kaoru could see his green eyes scrutinizing him from beneath the shadows of his cap. “The alarms on the gate notified me that you used your code to enter quite some time ago.”
“I am updating some of the hardware for both the drones and the camera system,” Kaoru lied. It was a lie he’d prepared ahead of time in case he was questioned on why the camera near the abandoned factory was currently offline. Carla had removed it from the network for him so nobody would see him repeatedly going into the small shack that led down into the bunker.
“Is there anything I can assist you with?”
“No,” Kaoru said tersely, belatedly adding a “thank you.”
While a second set of hands carrying supplies would certainly be useful, Kaoru didn’t want Tadashi Kikuchi knowing anything about what he was doing. He might be the head of the Red Cap Security that kept S running smoothly, but he still worked for Adam. He was, undoubtedly, already wondering what Kaoru was doing using the Stairwell to Nowhere because if there was anybody who knew the mountain as well as the three Founders, it was Snake.
“I’m almost done for the day,” Kaoru informed him, once again lying his ass off. “I will be sure to lock the gate again once I leave.” He’d locked it behind him before, but that hadn’t stopped Tadashi, of course.
“Very well, then. I will leave you to your work,” Tadashi said with a polite bow.
Kaoru waited until he was actually gone before unloading the rolled futon from his car. Tadashi would have, undoubtedly, wondered why he’d needed that to rework the camera systems. Kaoru had not had a good lie prepared if he’d asked. Thankfully, Carla had been able to verify that he had, indeed, left the mountain through the secure gates before he’d gotten back to work.
It was mid-morning when Kaoru carried the last of the supplies down into the bunker. The room was now well stocked with food, bedding, his laptop, the generator, and enough gas that he could run the entire bunker off of it if necessary. Hopefully, he would not have to spend too much time in the concrete room, but if he did, he wanted to do so in at least a modicum of comfort.
After having Carla run one last systems check, he sealed the bunker door behind him.
*************