Komatsu knew he had an audience as he finished cooking lunch for the four of them, their eyes heavy and warm on his skin. The sun was hot, but the heat of their attention-well, it left him feeling like he wanted to preen. He knew, objectively, that he was impressive, in his own way: he was a minor celebrity chef, not someone everyone would recognize on sight but well-known enough to have fans. He was Toriko's chef partner. He also knew that he wasn't an impressive person, in almost every other way: he was short, overemotional, not especially good looking, more comedic than handsome. Sunny had been (brutally) honest when they'd first met, and it had only been the truth. Komatsu wasn't beautiful, except for the specific passion he brought to his cooking.
He also knew that he would never and could never measure up to these incredible men, who were the incredible superhumans everyone had heard of, but also-passionate, generous, their personalities as much a force of nature as their bodies, the two combining to make them who they were, and they were extraordinary.
But they liked to watch him cook, and it was an embarrassing pleasure. At least in part because of how much he loved it, being the center of their attention. Maybe it should have been alarming (he knew that a lot of people would feel that way about the Kings' undivided attention) or humiliating instead of just a little embarrassing, but it wasn't. He knew that he didn't really deserve it, despite what Coco might say, or even Sunny and Zebra, but he had their attention anyway.
Or at least, the attention of their appetites, which was almost the same thing with the Kings.
(But-Komatsu couldn't help but wonder if they'd had anyone to take care of them, before he'd come along. Not since Ichiryuu, he thought, and it was a cold and lonely thing.)
Maybe they were just impatient for something to eat, watching him just for that reason, but Komatsu didn't think that was all that it was.
"Lunch is ready!" he declared, and there wasn't an immediate rush for food, for once. It was a lazy day, a vacation day, and they were on a stunning beach, all already gathered around Komatsu's impromptu kitchen-a couple of fires and some laid-out leaves, a sturdy but finely-woven wool blanket to picnic on-and he sat down to join them.
Komatsu moved his pan of steamed mussels into the middle of the group, quickly ripping off chunks of the baguette loaf they'd brought with them, quick neat turns of his wrist as he distributed the portions.
He could still feel their eyes on him. He hoped that they'd blame the slight flush on the heat of the sun and the fires-it was a good excuse. Nobody else had to know that that wasn't all that it was.
"Incredible," Sunny murmured, voice awed.
"Help yourselves!" Komatsu urged, grabbing a mussel for himself, tugging it quickly out of the shell, sighing at the sweet, briny taste, the bite of lemon and garlic and white wine in the broth, fresh pineapple sage as a nod to the tropical surroundings. "Maybe I can do ceviche for a mid-afternoon snack," he suggested, through a mouthful of food, a little indistinct.
"Komatsu-kun," Coco started.
"Gonna tell him to mind his manners?" Zebra smirked, speaking with his own mouth full of food, clearly a challenge.
Sunny swallowed, then made an incredibly eloquent moue of disgust.
Komatsu tried to stifle a laugh, swallowed his own mouthful before he cut in, playful. "No, no, Coco-san's probably right!"
"You cooked, so you can do wh'tever you want," Sunny said promptly, before turning to glare at Zebra. "'Matsu has his own kind of beauty that he brings to the meal and his food, unlike you, you disgustin'-"
"No arguing at mealtimes," Coco said sharply.
"They can argue if they want," Komatsu tried. "I mean-"
"...when Zebra's arguing, it does give the rest of us more time to eat," Coco allowed, with a sigh.
"Hey!" Zebra snapped, voice booming out loud enough to ring out against the ocean. "I'm not gonna eat everything 'Matsu cooked for us and leave him with nothing to eat on his birthday trip!"
"You would," Coco said flatly, not unamused.
Komatsu laughed, but-but looking at Zebra, he knew that most people would just see, well, a monster's face, but he thought he could see something like pain in his expression.
"I know you wouldn't," Komatsu said quietly-not quietly enough to keep anyone there from hearing him, not with all their senses sharpened the way they were-scooting closer to Zebra. Maybe it was too hot to lean against someone else, almost cuddled up against him, let alone someone with the furnace-like metabolism of the Kings, but he did anyway.
Zebra swallowed, something a little pained on his face-a little relieved?-and moved his hand to cover Komatsu's, where it was propping him up, planted in the sand.
"...did you call 'Matsu 'Matsu?" Sunny asked suddenly. It was almost a relief, cutting through the slight tension, the sudden reminder of just how little most of the world expected of Zebra, even those closest to him. A little too true to be a joke.
Zebra blanched. "I don't know what you're talking about," he growled.
"Did you?" Komatsu asked, blinking, trying to think back-
"He did," Coco said, clearly delighted. "Zebra, are you copying Sunny now? I'm sure he has some tips for skincare-"
"Of course an unbeaut'ful man like Zebra would want to use my wond'rous-"
"No!" Zebra bellowed.
"I think you did call me 'Matsu though," Komatsu said, trying to hide a laugh, then giving up, giving in, letting the belly laugh bubble out of him, collapsing into Zebra's side as he shook with gales of laughter.
"Just fuckin' eat your lunch," Zebra demanded roughly, grabbing a crab and quickly, easily cracking open the shell, pushing it towards Komatsu. It was one of the smaller ones, a single serving for an average-sized human, and he clearly meant it for him.
"Thank you, Zebra-san," Komatsu told him, letting his hand slide over Zebra's, fingers sliding over the dips and valleys of his scars, the rough callouses. Komatsu blushed a bit harder, withdrawing a little, not quite able to meet the other man's eyes, but when he looked at Coco, Coco was watching them with something like longing.
"Are you getting enough to eat, Komatsu-kun?" Coco asked, watching Komatsu crack open a crab leg with sure, competent hands, the deft strength of a chef who could keep up with Kings.
"Of course, Coco-san," Komatsu said immediately.
"Have you tried the crab roe? Th' delicate eggs are a beaut'ful bite," Sunny cut in, glaring suspiciously at Komatsu like he didn't believe him.
"No," Komatsu said, looking over, and-Sunny shifted over until he was at Komatsu's other side, managing to make the maneuver look graceful instead of an awkward shuffle, before carefully offering a generous bite of the delicacy to the chef.
Komatsu leaned over to eat it off Sunny's chopsticks without thinking, looking up at the feel of eyes on him again.
Sunny looked entranced, mouth just slightly parted, eyes fixed on Komatsu's mouth.
"Is there something on my face?" Komatsu blurted out.
"No!" Sunny yelped, leaning back like he was going to retreat-before he could leave, Komatsu grabbed at his hand, too, holding fast.
"Thank you, Sunny-san!"
Sunny settled again, close enough that Komatsu could feel the flutter of his hair in the wind against his arm, and Komatsu felt like his heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth suffusing him was a greater heat than the equatorial sun overhead.
This was all he'd ever wanted, everything he'd never even known to want, wouldn't have dared to imagine if he'd thought of it.
(...except for Toriko. But he wasn't going to think about that. And there was nothing lacking-he was here with three of the four Kings, and it was an incredible gift, and he was more than grateful for what he did have.)
And the next meal, he'd make sure he was sitting next to Coco, because Coco wouldn't think to move closer to Komatsu, or at least wouldn't act on it.
"Maybe swimming lessons after lunch?" Komatsu asked, turning to look at Coco-any of them probably could, but Coco had offered.
"Of course, Komatsu-kun," Coco said immediately, smiling warm and open over at him. Komatsu thought that if any of Coco's fans ever saw him smiling like this, they'd be more than smitten, stunned by the sweetness of the expression.
"After dessert," Komatsu confirmed.
"Sweets are no good for the skin," Sunny pouted, but Komatsu knew him now, and he could see how little Sunny really meant it.
"But cocoa-nuts, in addition to having a shell of smooth chocolate, are also full of antioxidants and nourishing oils that lead to smooth, elastic skin and lush, full-bodied hair," Komatsu said brightly. He'd started paying attention to things like that, for Sunny's sake.
"And dessert's fuckin' delicious," Zebra grumbled, eyeing Sunny like he was dangerously insane, maybe contagiously so.
"Some of us have appearances to keep up," Sunny said waspishly, with a pointed toss of his hair. It really was extraordinary, above and beyond the color, and the invisible-well, to everyone except Coco-sensors wrapped up in it: strong, robustly healthy, like a waterfall of silk.
"You'd be beautiful no matter what," Komatsu told Sunny firmly, meeting his eyes. "No matter what you eat, Sunny-san."
Just faintly, Sunny blushed, his cheeks and the tips of his ears going slightly red, before he snapped his face away, flustered and trying not to show it. Komatsu knew it wasn't sunburn; Sunny had been too aggressive about applying sunscreen to both himself and Komatsu. "'Matsu!"
"Komatsu-kun," Coco started, before he fell silent, eyes dark like he was biting down on something complicated he didn't quite know how to say.
When Komatsu turned to look, pulling away from the faint pinkness on Sunny's elegant face, the other two were both watching him, something longing in their eyes. "Yeah, Coco-san?"
"...Nothing. Just, why don't we go practice swimming now?"
"But-"
"Dishes," Coco finished for him, wry.
Zebra interrupted before Coco could continue. "We'll do the dishes," he growled, reaching around Komatsu to clap Sunny threateningly on the shoulder.
Sunny shot Zebra a look of pure venom, before his gaze slipped down to Komatsu, and softened. "Fine," he allowed, voice tight and a little pouty.
"I packed dish gloves," Komatsu said hesitantly. "In your size, Sunny-san. I know it was maybe a bit presumptuous, but I thought if you did end up doing some dishes, you'd want something to save your hands-"
"'Matsu," Sunny said in a slightly hoarse whisper, drawn up short, and he stared blankly at Komatsu just long enough that Komatsu was just about to start worrying, when he swept down and seized Komatsu into a fierce, all-encompassing hug.
"Not that you should feel obligated," Komatsu added. "I really don't mind-"
"Not another word," Zebra growled threateningly, and Sunny laughed, sounding just a little desperate.
"You didn't bring gloves for yourself, did you," Sunny said with another abbreviated bubble of laughter, pulling away just enough to grab Komatsu's wrist with a hank of his hair, pulling Komatsu's hand into his own. They both had callouses, but Komatsu's skin was rough with dishwater, hard travel, while Sunny's callouses were pumiced and lotioned smooth, his nails buffed and elegant ovals where Komatsu's were cut practically short, occasionally torn, clean and useful but not beautiful.
"No," Komatsu agreed cheerfully.
"'Matsu!"
"Really, Sunny-san, it's fine. Here, let me grab the gloves for you-"
"No gloves for me?" Zebra said, appearing over Komatsu's shoulder, a threat in his voice and posture. One huge hand curled around the junction of Komatsu's neck, the huge scarred fingers a blunt threat around his delicate collarbone, trachea, spine. It would be as easy as thought for him to leave the chef, helpless, for dead.
"Do you want gloves, Zebra-san?" Komatsu asked, rolling his eyes, still smiling as he leaned into the other man, tipping his head back to give Zebra a pointed look.
Zebra pouted, that was the only word for it-even if someone else wouldn't be able to see it, past the aura of threat that Zebra exuded, past the scars and reputation and face made for scowling-and Komatsu gave up and laughed.
"Go swim with Coco," Sunny chided him, pushing bossily at both him and Zebra with invisible feelers, digging through Komatsu's pack for the gloves he'd brought.
"Okay, okay! But only because you won't let me help with clean-up," Komatsu allowed, pulling off his apron, stripping out of his shirt.
It felt like he was being watched again, but-he wasn't sure why-either way it was fine. He trusted the Kings to keep him safe. He trusted them to know him as well as he knew them.
After an hour of working on swimming, Komatsu was pleasantly tired, feeling the ache in muscles he wasn't used to using; the lesson had dissolved into a splash fight. Komatsu was watching Coco mock-suspiciously, in-between gales of laughter, the two of them in water just shallow enough that Komatsu could keep his head above water by bouncing on his tiptoes, his body too dense with muscle to float easily. It was a little odd, looking at Coco so directly: the other man was in a little deeper, legs bent, and it left them of a height.
Coco was smiling back at him, wide and helpless and unrestrained, the way Coco so rarely was, and it was like something incandescent was lit in Komatsu's chest.
Coco lifted an arm-Komatsu jumped back-and they both started laughing again as Coco pushed wet hair out of his face, shaking some of the salt water off, and like this, Komatsu couldn't-wouldn't-think of him as a King, because he wasn't, he was just Coco, just another person, playing in perfect crystalline water with a friend. Except "friend" didn't seem like a strong enough word, and only Toriko was his partner-
Komatsu lost his train of thought as someone swamped him with a wave, leaving him spluttering before he could duck back up, laughing and blinking through the water in his eyes. "What-?" he began, letting his momentum carry him into Coco's side, because he'd been watching the other man, and it hadn't been him who'd splashed him-
Komatsu caught himself on Coco's arm, his skin almost shockingly warm after the chill of the ocean, and turned to watch a Friendly Seal laughing at him, clearly the trouble-maker who'd caught him off guard.
He had to laugh again, even though a glimpse at Coco's face-open, amazed, like he still couldn't believe that they'd ever approach him, hadn't been warned away by instinct or intelligence-made his heart ache.
The two of them drifted for a moment, Komatsu letting Coco anchor him, and he realized that he'd never touched this much of Coco's skin before. It was so rare for the man to take off his clothes, to keep himself less than completely covered. Komatsu hoped, desperately, that this was okay, for Coco's sake (because the man was afraid of himself, almost as afraid of himself as he was of how people reacted to him) and also for his own.
But Coco's body was loose and relaxed, less of a weapon and more just human, an easy happiness in his body, not the tension Komatsu had been half afraid of. He wanted to let Coco know that touch was okay, that he was safe, that he was trusted to be safe even when Komatsu knew how dangerous he could be, and he wanted to do whatever he could to sate Coco's touch-hunger, without also pushing him too far.
And it was a bit selfish. Komatsu was hyper-aware of where their skin was pressed together. The water trapped close between them was warmed with their body heat, the rest of his skin chilled where the cold current pulled away the warmth of the two of them.
Komatsu knew that Coco could see everything-in greater detail, in wavelengths of light that Komatsu, or anyone else, was incapable of seeing in the first place, his eidetic memory inking it indelibly into his brain in all that overwhelming detail-with just a glance, but when he looked up, Coco was staring at him with intensity, focus, like he was memorizing every slightest shift of expression.
Komatsu's breath caught in his throat, and then Coco was looking away, expression shifting to a smile that was-honest, but maybe just a little forced, not that hardly anyone would be able to tell. (Probably-probably just Komatsu would be able to tell that it was forced, Komatsu and Ichiryuu, and the other Kings-Komatsu hoped they could tell.)
"We probably shouldn't leave Zebra-san and Sunny-san alone much longer," Komatsu said, a little bit of regret, but not much-he couldn't regret anything that meant more time with any of the Kings.
"At least they're just sulking right now," Coco said, a little bit of smug humor carefully hidden in his voice, enough to make Komatsu laugh out loud. "The island's still standing."
"Hey!" Zebra shouted from shore, overhearing of course, turning to glare at them, Sunny hissing as the booming shout woke him where he was basking in the sun.
"Maybe you spoke too soon," Komatsu managed to get out through his giggles, and Coco started laughing, too, towing Komatsu back towards shore.
They walked inland that afternoon, following the cleared trail that wound through shrubs, patches of sand, outcroppings of rock. It was easy terrain, almost no elevation gain, weather hot but not extreme, and they moved slow, not even hiking so much as taking a casual walk, taking the time to explore everything around them.
There was no threat, no sense of any danger at all. The only animals were harmless: loud sea birds, the giant tortoises with rice-cracker scutes like ambling hills, a rainbow of land iguanas curled up on their clutches of jelly eggs, coconut or mango or green-tea or almond flavored.
It was strange, Komatsu thought. He was used to the wilderness, but only when there was some kind of threat, danger that he knew the Kings-that Toriko-would protect him from, but was nonetheless there. Here and now, the only way he could hurt himself was by harassing an otherwise indifferent iguana into snapping at him, or maybe by tripping over his own two feet. Not that he wasn't also capable of that, but-it was different from the way things usually were.
The Kings-his companions-had no need to worry about him, no need to watch out for threats that they might not even recognize as such, they were so much more powerful than Komatsu was. ...at least they were better at it, now. It was, really, a miracle that Komatsu hadn't died, those early days with Toriko. Or hadn't died permanently, at least.
"Come on, 'Matsu!" Sunny huffed, turning to tug at Komatsu's hand, apparently deciding that he'd spent long enough studying the tiny, vibrant fruits of wild neo-tomatoes.
"Sunny-san! We're not in any hurry-"
"...fine," Sunny said, dropping Komatsu's hand with a resigned huff.
"It's fine," Komatsu told him, hurrying forward a few steps to reclaim Sunny's hand, sneaking a glance at how Sunny's theatrical pout turned into a small smile heavy with pure, rich pleasure. "You could go on ahead though, if you wanted! You don't need to worry, here-even I'd have trouble getting into trouble here."
"If anyone could manage it, it's you, Komatsu-kun," Coco said, somewhere between long-suffering and incredibly fond.
Komatsu really couldn't argue with him.
"It's nice you don't have to spend so much time looking out for me," Komatsu said instead, dropping Sunny's hand but still close enough that they bumped against each other, arm-to-shoulder and hip-to-leg.
The silence that descended was oddly tense. When Komatsu looked up from an anchovy dragon-fly's silvery streamlined body, the Kings were watching him again, closely, something grim in Coco's expression, worried in Sunny's. Zebra wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Ehhh?"
"Komatsu-kun," Coco began, before falling silent. "-Do you… Is it usually so bad?"
...what? Komatsu tried to make that make sense in his mind, couldn't quite arrange it into something that he understood. "What? I don't understand, Coco-san-is what usually so bad?"
"We know you're fuckin' afraid," Zebra snapped. "When we're out getting ingredients. How much does it bother you?"
"I still don't-I mean, Zebra-san, all of you, you know that I'm afraid-but I trust you, too. More than anything!"
"I know," Coco said, but there was something taut in his expression, something that stirred up unpleasant worry in the pit of Komatsu's stomach. "But we could-there's more places like here that we could-"
"Coco-san, I don't think you-what I meant was, I'm happy that you don't have to worry about me! You can just enjoy yourself-even when I'm afraid, I know I'm safe, I'm always safe, the safest I could be, with you. I know. I'm glad that you don't have to spend your time trying to keep an eye out for me, that you can enjoy yourselves too! That-that I can just spend time with you."
Sunny stirred, expression warring between relief and resignation and confusion.
"Fuckin'-" Zebra murmured, shoving a hand through his hair, apparently exasperated. "Komatsu, ya damn brat-do you really think I wouldn't look after you if I didn't want to? Don't be so fucking cocky!"
"Ahhh, sorry, Zebra-san! But-"
Sunny opened his mouth, closed it, glared, gestured vehemently at Coco in a way that demanded he explain, immediately.
Komatsu interrupted-rude, he knew, but he wanted to make sure they knew. "I know you keep me safe, but-you shouldn't have to pay attention. You shouldn't have to keep that in mind, when you could-just enjoy yourself. The way I'm enjoying myself now? Just-just the four of us."
That, at least, derailed Coco for a moment, expression tightening for a second as he visible went through and discarded a few things to say, before finally speaking up. "Komatsu-kun, even now-you're safer here than you would be in the street outside the Hotel Gourmet, we know. But still, even here, even now, we're paying attention. It's not-it's not a chore, it's just-part of being on a trip with you."
Komatsu continued watching him, a wordless encouragement to continue, not sure he understood yet.
"It's-Komatsu-kun, you don't need to be stronger, or-be somewhere else, or be anything you're not, because we want you. Here with us," Coco tacked on hurriedly, when Sunny appeared to choke on his own inhale.
"I know-Coco-san, I know. But you have to make so many allowances-"
"I don't think you do know! Even-Komatsu, we're always paying attention, not because we need to, but because-you're part of it. That's all we need."
Komatsu thought he understood, or was just beginning to understand, but he wasn't… It was still him they were looking out for.
Coco, catching his doubtful expression, huffed out a sigh, took a seat on an outcropping of rock that had enough room for the rest of them, Zebra sitting down on the ground to lean against the rock, shoulder leaning against Komatsu's legs. "Komatsu-"
"The senses," Sunny said, sotto voce.
"We should do this more often. If you want us too-if you'd like us to accompany you even when you don't need our protection. Because, any time with you is-precious. The four of us," Coco began, not really an explanation-but it was. "Sight, touch, hearing, smell and taste-you know the four of us each embody one of the senses. My sight, Sunny's touch, Zebra's hearing." Toriko's name was unspoken, and it echoed in its absence. "And-taste, 'to taste' something requires feel and scent, and eating-you eat with the eyes, with all your senses. Taste can't happen without the other four senses-but without 'taste,' the world would be flat, and-" Coco broke off, grim.
"Awful," Sunny said flatly.
"...It's not a matter of needing to look out for you," Coco finished, trying to make Komatsu understand something that wasn't really logical. "It's simply-of course we focus on you. Having you is part of the pleasure of it."
It almost felt like a-a declaration of love, Komatsu thought a little wildly, heart beating in his throat, tears prickling at his eyes. "Coco-san-"
Coco swallowed once, twice, managed a smile. "We look out for you even when we don't need to," he said.
"I fucking wouldn't even if you did need it, if I didn't want to," Zebra added in, subdued.
"I-" Komatsu began, feeling it hard enough to hurt, because they were saying he was part of them, something as integral as taste-
Sunny made a sound of near-desperation and darted forward faster than Komatsu's eyes could track, grabbing him into a fierce hug, yanking the others in, too, until Komatsu was surrounded by his Kings, by Coco and Sunny and Zebra, even Zebra going willingly, clinging to the other three, a slightly sweaty too-hot tangle in the late-afternoon equatorial sun, and perfect.
-End Chapter 5-