synergetic | Drunken Confessions

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Drunken Confessions

The day was already impossibly long at 2. By the time he puts Yukiko to bed, it's felt like a small eternity. But the kitchen is clean, everyone has bathed, the toys are put away, the homework is checked, and the foreheads have been kissed. He even got in a good conversation with Keita about becoming a big brother after bedtime story.

Frankly, he's so tired he could go straight to bed, but drinking with Yukimura on the couch has become a cherished nighttime ritual, and he isn't about to start skipping something so hard-earned and enjoyable now. Never mind the value it had in maintaining good rapport; that was never something to take for granted.

So to the couch he goes, where Yukimura is already waiting with Hima tucked comfortably in her bassinet by his side. For a moment, Bunta is struck all over again with admiration for this man who generously opened his home to them and who has given Yukiko and Keita the same patience and care that he gives Himawari. He didn't have to come home and straight from the genkan target handling the crying toddler instead of the snuggly and content infant he'd missed all day. He could have taken Hima and left Bunta to juggle Keita's meltdown and cooking dinner. Instead, he went to the fire. He's a good father and a good person.

"We made it....!" Bunta says with as much celebration as fatigue and flops down beside him.

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Not wanting to shout to be heard, Yukimura shakes his head on his way to heat up a bottle.

The change of scenery seems to get Himawari back to normal and with his Daddy senses able to rest, Yukimura's mind starts to wander. He's got her situated with the bottle when some dialogue gets remembered and he sticks his head back in the room where the Maruis are.

"Do we need to..." he starts talking before he remembers baby is present, and shuts up a little too quickly.

If Bunta were not hung over and half-asleep, he might be in a better position to make guesses as to what exactly Yukimura started to ask him. As it is, he's in no state to do anything of the sort.

"Yeah-- I'll clean up in a minute," he said, coming to the only assumption he could that Yukimura was asking about the booze and bottles still out.

"Oh, I didn't even think about that," he said tiredly.

"Are we alcoholics? I almost wonder."

"Huh?" Bunta looks over his shoulder at Yukimura's question, having never considered this possibility himself. He manages a smile over the din of Keita's wails in his ear, but the strain in it is evident.

"We're parents. That's all the difference," he jokes.

"There might be some budget adjustments in the future," he said lightly. "Or we need to ask Atobe if he won't mind you babysitting. I'm sure he'd be willing to donate to our supply in that case."

He looks a little wistfully at the couch. They look so cozy... he'd been cozy before Keita decided to scream bloody murder (and accuse him thereof). That hadn't just been the drunken haze, had it?

Budget adjustments... in which direction? Surely he's not suggesting they need less.

Tiredly, he rubs Keita's back in an effort to soothe him. Maybe he just needs a distraction?

"Hey, why did you come downstairs? Are you hungry?"

Keita shakes his head.

"No? Not even for pancakes?"

Another shake of the head. Still crying.

"What's wrong? You can see I'm right here."

"You aren't there."

"Huh?"

"You aren't there...!"

Somewhat confused, Bunta looks back at Yukimura. Any ideas?

Yukimura shrugs and tries to burp the baby. Honestly, Keita's baby logic is completely impenetrable to him. But his mind is still trying to figure it out. It's like Keita thinks the world revolves around him and can't imagine that everyone around him isn't exactly on his wavelength... maybe they should be asking Atobe to babysit instead...

"Maybe he looked for you in your bedroom first and got scared," Yukimura finally offers, after a solid minute of forcefully applying cold logic to the scenario. In which case: "Keita-kun, you're going to make yourself sick if you don't stop carrying on."

It's hard when you know just enough about words and language to communicate, but not enough to always do so effectively. It made perfect sense in Keita's head that he was answering his dad's question: why did he come downstairs? Because you aren't up there.

Yukimura's suggestion thus earns a pronounced nod of confirmation from Keita.

"He isn't there, so I came here."

That seems to trigger a small light bulb moment for Bunta, and his annoyance melts away into a smidge of guilt.

"I see. You were looking for me and I wasn't asleep up there, but I also wasn't awake down here. Sorry to scare you."

Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he collects Keita and stands up with him in his arms. "Why were you looking for me?"

"I wanted to sleep by you..."

Bunta blinks, then despite it all, he's grinning through Keita's tears like this is the best thing he's heard all week.

"Well why didn't you say so?! Let's go back upstairs and do that right now."

"O-kay..."

Bunta looks to Yukimura with an expression that is only half-apologetic. "Well, you heard the little man. We'll be back later."

Exactly why Keita isn't wanting to finish sleeping in his own bed isn't a subject he feels compelled to clarify, nor is it one Bunta thinks to ask about. The request is simply too good to question.

Yukimura giggles when he's fairly certain he can't be heard by anyone but Himawari, and she clutches at him, seeming to mimic the sound.

For a moment, he can't tell if he wants to join them or copy them, but with the baby fed, she seems a little too bouncy to go back to sleep. So, he settles her in a nearby playpen with her nearby toys to work herself out to her heart's content.

So what is he going to do?

He's been awake too long to go back to sleep. And starting to feel hungry.

Yukimura eyes the stove. There's eggs, and pancake mix? He hopes. Bread to toast, and butter, and the toaster to do it with. He likes his toast dark, and isn't sure how far to turn the toaster's setting, but Marui used it last, so maybe he needs to set it higher?

It takes less than five minutes to settle himself and Keita in his bed and pass right back out.

It takes even less than that for the smoke alarm to wake him right back up. Keita, who had just stopped crying, starts screaming in terror again and digs his fingers into Bunta's sides as though clinging for dear life. Bunta sucks in a breath through his wince; it is definitely time to cut those nails!

Bunta sniffs the air-- clear in the bedroom. Holding Keita, he gets back up and opens the door, hallway is clear, no smoke in sight, but he can smell the burning. He knows that particular burning smell, too. Toast.

Well, this is kinda his own fault because he jumped at the chance to go back to bed instead of getting up and making breakfast for everyone. He put Yukimura in a bad position.

Honestly, smiling and going back down to make everything right is the absolute last thing he feels like doing. Literally everything hurts, and he is about as grouchy as he gets from it and the lack of sleep. Recognizing that, he takes a moment in the hall, even with Keita screaming in his ear and the alarm still blaring, to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and mentally reset.

Always remember your priorities. Taking care of Yukimura and kids is Number One. That means helping Yukimura with breakfast. Doing it while exhausted and hung over is just another special talent on his already impressive repertoire. It might feel like hell, but isn't it also just the result of having everything he wants and needs in life? It sure is.

Ok: let's do this. Game on!

Mentality refreshed, Bunta descends the stairs with Keita still attached, relieved when he hears the alarm stop. Yukimura must have reached it and disabled it until the kitchen air clears. Excellent. He walks to the kitchen and grabs a cookie that he passes straight to Keita.

Keita, now distracted by the prospect of delicious sugar and with the scary loud noise stopped, accepts the bribe and quiets down with it, allowing Bunta to settle him into one of the chairs at the table.

"On second thought, you've got the right idea down here. Let's eat! Leave it to me."

"...I will, thanks."

It all happened so fast. He'd guessed at where to dial the toaster's dial to, thinking he wanted it both dark and instantly. Then came the smoke, and when unplugging it didn't work, and he had Himawari's distressed cries from the smoke, the burning, and the alarm all in his head, he'd done the first thing that came to mind, and thrown a cup of water over the appliance.

At least he'd unplugged it first...

Yukimura coughed and scooped up the baby again, too irritated with how idiotic he looked to think of something else to soothe her. She was never going to walk at this rate.

"Am I still--" he glanced at Keita curiously. Were you supposed to talk about waking up still drunk in front of children?

Bunta's good cheer hits a stall as he turns and discovers the state of the toaster. Residual tendrils of smoke rise from the unplugged appliance dripping water into the puddle it stands in, which is also running off the counter and onto the floor. Well, clearly toast is off the menu for today. That's too bad.

"You're right, that toaster was pretty past its time. We'll pick up a new one today."

Keita, ever helpful, looked back at Yukimura. That glance said to Keita that Yukimura wanted his help finishing the sentence.

"Cool?" Doubt, Mr. Yukimura, sir. Doubt.

Yukimura's eyes close so that he doesn't actually glare at Keita. He can't talk for a moment, either, because he thinks he might actually growl with annoyance. Or exhaustion. Or hunger. Or residual drunkenness. Or disappointment at not getting any follow-through from Bunta's flirting last night.

Wait, that was real, wasn't it? Did he actually want follow-through? Or did he just need coffee?

He looked over at Bunta, settling into his self-appointed domestic duties.

Did he actually mean that?

"Cool?" Bunta repeats as he grabs a dish towel and starts mopping up the water around the toaster. Even without looking back at Yukimura's expression, he knows the man well enough to know his ego wasn't ready for that hit right on the heels of setting off the smoke alarm. Kids were brutal!

"What're you saying? Yukimura-kun's the coolest person you know. He's even cooler than me."

"You're not cool."

"Sure I am. We're all cool in this house."

"Nuh-uh..."

"Ah, I see. It's not cool to make pancakes with whipped cream and sprinkles and strawberries."

"Those are cool. You're just not."

"But how can I not be cool when I do such cool things?"

"Because you're old!"

Bunta bursts into laughter. "You think so? Well, everyone must seem old for you. But people can get much, much older than I am."

Spill cleaned, the towel is dropped in the sink, and Bunta fills the coffee maker to start a brew. "Anyway, let's try cinnamon toast in the oven. Eggs and sausage on the side. Yukimura-kun--"

He looks back in Yukimura's direction, and all at once, the night prior comes rushing back to mind, bringing a light blush to his face. That kiss...

Well, nothing he can focus on right now. They'll have to follow up on that later. But his voice is a bit softer with the smile he sends back to him.

"Eggs the usual way?"

"Sounds fine, yes," Yukimura said, distracted. The smile and the soft tone don't help, now he has to wonder if he's imagining it.

His half-listening to Keita catches up to him about then and he tries not to sigh. He's never been thought uncool before. There were people in the world who actually had his autograph, Keita. They offered to pay for it, sometimes.

He takes his seat at the table just as a well-rested, dressed, and hair-brushed Yukiko takes hers. Has she really slept through all the recent chaos? Magic, Yukimura thinks. Needs to teach Keita. If they'd woken up naturally, maybe...

"Yukimura-san? Do you have a fever?" asked an innocent little angel, and Yukimura tried to think of an answer that wasn't 'Ask your father.'

Bunta gets right to work preparing a baking sheet and fitting eight slices of bread on it while the oven preheats. Microwave-softened butter, cinnamon, and sugar mixed together in a bowl. With his back to the table, he misses Yukiko's arrival until he hears her question.

"Oh! Good morning. How's my snowflake?"

He's as cheerful as usual, but her question to Yukimura has Bunta looking him over. He does seem a little flushed. With Yukimura's fair complexion, it doesn't take much.

"Do you want to lie down until breakfast is ready? It's okay, I'll call you." Whether he was exhausted, embarrassed, still feeling the alcohol, or actually falling sick, Yukimura deserved the chance for a small escape.

"No. No, I'm not sick," he said firmly. Bunta's kind tone was almost too much at that point.

Because he could see it, the way it was unfolding. The way he felt right when Bunta was nearby. The way he felt so comfortable that they just... apparently kept falling into each other's laps at this point. That couldn't all be exhaustion, could it?

"What is everyone doing today?" he asked quickly.

"I have homework," Yukiko said importantly. This was new, perhaps. "But I have a few days to do it," she added, leaving space for someone to ask her important questions.

The expression Bunta sends back to Yukimura is a mix of confusion and concern. Had he said something wrong? Maybe that phrasing had been a little careless, and he should have framed it as something Hima might have wanted. He just wanted Yukimura to have a few minutes to himself after the rough start to their day.

Well, if Yukimura didn't want to take it, that was his call to make, and he drops the subject. He starts spreading the cinnamon butter mixture over the bread, coating them crust to crust.

"Do you? What day is it due? Is it a big assignment?" If the teacher was allotting several days, that begged the question of why. Most of Yukiko's assignments were next-day due. It smelled like time management practice to him.

"I have to learn how to do something new, then write about how to do it to someone else," she said. "I don't know what I'm gonna do yet."

"Have you thought about babysitting?" Yukimura joked, as he moved a glass of milk out of Himawari's reach.

"Never," she said firmly, but she moved his glass a little further for him, just in case.

Honest but still considerate. Bunta did a good job raising her. Already, Yukimura was feeling like he couldn't get anywhere without him to lean on. It wasn't a feeling he particularly enjoyed, but it was satisfying, too. It was the sweat and tears from when he was in rehab-- the work was painful, but the results were satisfying.

Here, Yukimura was just constantly embarrassed, but Bunta's attempts to ease him made him feel... well, what, exactly? Cared for, that was the main one.

Yukiko answered Bunta's next question for him, apparently anticipating it. He can't help a small snicker at just how decisively she shoots down babysitting, either. That was the correct answer at her age. It was a good thing to understand what a massive responsibility it was. Good try, though, Yukimura!

"What about a recipe? Pick something you wanna try and we'll make it together. Then we can all eat it as a family for dinner."

He hoped no little eyes were on him in that moment, because Yukimura felt his heart stop and he didn't want to explain it.

Because Bunta wasn't going to be so exclusionary as to not include people who were sitting right in front of him (and especially not people who happened to own the house). But that apparently-inclusive word had to be deliberate, right? Especially after what he said last night. Had Yukimura agreed to that without really remembering? Well, if that were the case, he... was probably smarter and more honest drunk, and wasn't that odd? At least about the first part.

He couldn't really back out of that without losing face, could he? Or hurting someone's feelings. He didn't want to do either, although he'd be lying to himself if he said the one hadn't been the first he thought of.

Granted, he also didn't want to act like a lovesick teenager if he hadn't agreed to anything...

It is a damn shame he's having interpersonal relationship issues with the only friend of his he trusted to ask for advice about interpersonal relationships, he mused. He briefly entertained the thought of asking Sanada, but he thought Sanada's advice for anybody in love with someone else would just be "Marry them and quit complaining," and that wasn't legal yet, let alone helpful. Was he in love?

Had he gone so long without talking that the children were suspicious and about to comment on it? How would they feel about this nonsense?

Bunta sneaks a glance over his shoulder to interpret the collective silence, a rarity of such proportions as to be almost eerie. Keita is enjoying the last of his cookie, but seems on high alert to the prospect of his sister getting to pick what they have for dinner one night. His attention is on her. Yukiko appears to be thinking. Narrowing down options or not a fan of the idea, who knows.

Yukimura... Yukimura looks like a man in quiet crisis. And Bunta hasn't so soon forgotten his misstep from just a minute ago. Asking is out of the question right now. Not in front of the kids. Hm.

He turns back to the breakfast in progress, frowns, and puts his hand on his hip as he stares at the toast across the baking sheet. Then he breaks into a grin and checks over his shoulder again for volunteers.

"I just had a good idea for this toast. Who wants to try it?"

"MEEEEE!" Keita broke in first. What was he trying? Who knew, but like heck he was missing out on it.

"It better not be weird," Yukiko warned, as Yukimura snapped out of it and giggled. Maybe he was still drunk.

"Your father wouldn't do anything weird to breakfast, would he?" he asked her. "I trust him."

She wrinkled her nose. "He'll see toast like a blank canvas. He'll probably suggest weird recipes, too."

"I bet it's da-rishes weird!" Keita spoke in defense of their (still-uncool) father.

Bunta smiled, satisfied with the answers. This was a good exercise. Life is all about learning-- do you like taking risks for potential reward, or do you like a known outcome? Neither was wrong. And in playing these games with his kids, Bunta can understand them better, and see how their personalities are growing.

"Got it-- so that's two surprise toasts, and one safe toast. No takebacks!"

This baking sheet was about to get a lot emptier, but that was okay. He was happy with the answers. Three new-idea toasts including his own was plenty to play with, and already he's thinking through the variations he wants to do on them. He rummages through the refrigerator for the cream cheese, caramel sauce, and some strawberries and a peach from the produce bin, then sets them on the counter as he collects the powdered sugar, vanilla extract, a banana, and maple syrup from cabinet storage. Everything goes on the counter and another skillet goes on the cooktop.

Edited 2025-04-17 04:23 (UTC)

Drunken Confessions

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