Title: 1096 Days
Fandom: Yakitate! Japan
Character(s): Kawachi x Azuma
Summary: He is late, again.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situation created and owned by Hashiguchi Takashi and various publishers including but not limited to Shogakukan and TV Tokyo. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Yet.
A/N: This will be a temporary archive for this one-shot, just until the Yakitate! Japan section we've been working on goes through. After that, I'll take this baby off and move it there. Between Walls and Foxes and Roses are currently on hold until Summer break. If you do my microfabrication projects, I can update. For real.
Kawachi Kyousuke died in his sleep at the ripe age of one-hundred-and-four. The previous night he had still been talking to his life-long partner, Azuma Kazuma, now quickly approaching one-hundred-and-one years old, about their latest joint project on Japan #723 over a pot of green tea and, of course, bread. Kawachi had suggested that they sleep on the idea before discussing it again the next morning.
But they never got the chance to finish that discussion.
The last thing Kawachi had said to Azuma was, "I have a piece of bread stuck between my teeth."
To which Azuma had replied, "What teeth?"
And they had shared a chuckle.
The next morning, Azuma found Kawachi already cold, a peaceful smile on his wizened face. Gently, the legendary baker took hold of his partner's hands and rubbed them between his own. With one last, soft caress Azuma brushed Kawachi's cheek. Then he smiled, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep, holding Kawachi's body. To Azuma, Kawachi would always be warm no matter what.
Like his bread.
Three years and one day later, it was Azuma's time to die.
Surrounded by his younger friends and relatives, he took a bite of Japan #444 and exhaled his last breath. This was the forbidden bread he had created decades before to ease the passing of Matsushiro Ken, the former manager of Pantasia's Southern Branch. It had taken Matsushiro three loaves of bread before he finally let go of his hold to this world, but Azuma only needed one small bite, as if he had been prepared.
In a way, maybe.
Clutched in Azuma's skinny hand was a folded paper, full of his own writing. It was the unfinished recipe to Japan #723.
Azuma had called it Japan #722 ½ and remained unable to complete the bread until the very last end. In his own words, "It is the bread Kawachi and I were going to make. Of course I cannot finish it. Kawachi's not here, isn't he?"
Somehow, it made sense. So after his death, they had placed his headstone next to Kawachi's older one and placed numerous baskets filled with bread, bread, and only bread. The flowers were forgotten to make room for the baskets.
Why bread? Well, because Azuma had requested so. When they asked what he was going to do with all the food, Azuma had shrugged, and in his own innocent way answered, "I may get hungry later and I can't eat flowers."
Maybe, maybe.
He had been a bread man until the end.
Azuma Kazuma is in Heaven.
But it is not like what Azuma has imagined before. Heaven is quite drab, in his opinion, and uninteresting. He thought that Heaven would smell like sunshine, like hot bread fresh from the oven, like spring breeze, like... Heaven, y'know?
Instead, he finds it smelling like sake. Cheap, off-the-conbini-shelf kind of sake. Azuma doesn't like to drink because alcohol has a strange effect on him. Even smelling it will make him dizzy. But now that he's dead, he should not feel any side effects. Or so he thinks.
And Heaven should not look like a messy backroom of a store, with empty boxes and littered papers on the floor. It's just wrong, not divine at all. Azuma is disappointed. Before dying, he thought that going to Heaven (Azuma never thought otherwise. Of course he is going to Heaven, where else can he go?) is like going home. Heaven is the place where Kawachi lives, so when he arrives at Heaven, there's supposed to be a cheerful "Okaeri!" replying his "Tadaima!".
So far, nobody has answered.
Azuma decides to wait.
He walks outside the store and into the street. His gaze falls upon baskets and baskets of bread waiting for him, ready to be consumed. They have followed me into the afterlife, Azuma thinks and begins to nibble on a delicious looking french bread. It's a good thing he didn't ask for flowers.
Suddenly, he hears something very vague. Just a familiar tug in his memory that reaches his ears, fleeting and nostalgic. It isn't even a noise, but Azuma still turns around to find the source of that sound, and drops the bread he is holding.
What he sees makes him break into sobs.
The tall, young figure of Kawachi Kyousuke is waving at him from far away. Kawachi looks exactly the same as his image when Azuma saw him for the very first time. Kawachi is mouthing a word, too soft to hear, but Azuma knows what that word is. He knows.
Okaeri. Welcome home.
So Azuma, gradually becoming young and energetic again, runs to his Kawachi, speechless, eyes blinded by tears. At the last moment, he jumps to Kawachi's open arms and they fall down to the ground, which miraculously turns into soft crust of bread.
Azuma says Kawachi's name over and over again, cannot believing that he is truly hugging Kawachi. It is too good to be true. A familiar pair of strong arms embraces him back, a familiar Kansai-ben speaks to him, and Azuma is convinced. He is home.
"You're late," Kawachi says.
Amidst sniffles, Azuma manages to indignantly say, "Am not. You're the one who's late."
"Idiot. I've been waiting since yesterday," Kawachi says.
"Huh?"
"You're supposed to die yesterday, not today. You're a day late."
Azuma stops sobbing. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." Azuma blinks. It looks like he will not escape his tardiness, even in death. He was not late for his own funeral, like Kuroyan had predicted some eighty years ago, but he was late to die. How embarassing.
"Nevermind," Kawachi finally says, "I've known you'll be taking your time, anyway."
Azuma smiles. Kawachi knows him the best, and he always says the right thing. Then Azuma remembers something very important. He takes out a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket and hands it to Kawachi, who looks at it with confusion written on his face.
"What is this 722 and a half thing?" Kawachi asks after reading.
Azuma's smile gets wider and a determined look crosses his face. "We're not done talking, remember?"
Slowly a grin appears on Kawachi's face. He now understands, and he nods. "Yeah."
So they pick up the conversation where they left off.
Three years and a day late.
But hey, what's that to an eternity?
-Fin-
-04/22/2005-