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Kenji hadn’t been to practice since Emi got hurt. He was nervous about being so far away from her and would much rather be home right now, but, well... He’d missed three practices now and Coach was not happy. Today was his first day back.
He quickly parked his motorcycle, jogging to the locker room. He was early for once, a rare occurrence ever since Emi had come into his life–not that he was complaining, he loved his daughter. Kenji mentally patted himself on the back.
The good thing about having his dad around, as he had come to find out, was that he was now getting more sleep each night than he had in months. It also probably didn’t hurt that Emi had settled down a little while her arm was healing.
There was nothing better in the world than falling asleep in his Ultraman form wrapped around Emi, Kenji had decided. The two of them had slept curled up together for almost a whole day the night after Emi had been hurt, just right there on the basement floor together. The crick in his neck when he woke up had been worth it knowing that his little girl was safe and sound.
Kenji finally reached the locker room, the voices of his teammates that were already inside growing louder as he walked in. When they saw Kenji, everyone stopped talking for a moment before hesitantly returning to their conversations.
It had been like that ever since they lost that first game. At least he wasn’t getting glared at anymore, his recently improving performance helping his standing with the team. It also probably didn’t hurt that he’d been too tired to act as cocky as he normally did.
Kenji winced as he remembered his past behavior. Emi nearly dying had really put a lot of things into perspective.
He changed into his practice clothes quickly, not slowing down to chat like most of his teammates, not that they would probably want to talk to him anyway.
Kenji had isolated himself from his teammates pretty early on. What could he say, he was just a private person. He didn’t really play nice with others. Besides, he had too many secrets to risk getting too comfortable with anyone. What would he do if someone found out he was Ultraman—or worse, found out about Emi—and reported them to the KDF?
Yeah, he wasn’t going to risk it.
(Kenji ignored the little voice in his head that told him the real reason he avoided his teammates, before he had ever found Emi, was that he had been hurt by others he called friend too much in the past)
Entering the dugout, Kenji saw that he was one of the first ones on the field, besides Yoshida and Tsuruta, who were seated side by side on the bench, chatting while they finished lacing up their cleats, low enough that he couldn’t hear them, even with his better-than-average hearing.
They looked up for a second when he entered, pausing their conversation, before they quickly resumed talking when they saw it was Kenji. Tsuruta and Yoshida were Kenji’s favorite guys on the team. They were some of the only ones that didn’t treat his presence as a curse.
He loitered around for a second, not sure what to do. Usually, Kenji would be dead on his feet. He’d normally still be making his way to the stadium right about now.
Deciding it was better than standing around awkwardly, Kenji sat on the bench—a very respectable distance away from the other two men—and busied himself with checking in on Emi.
He pulled up the camera feed of the basement on his watch. Emi was in the middle of taking her nap, her favorite car being squashed in her arms as she snored. The scene made his heart do flips in his chest. In, like, a good way.
Kenji smiled down softly at his watch. Ever since they’d been attacked by the KDF, Kenji had accepted that, yes, the kaiju was his daughter. He didn’t care about the semantics. He loved her, giant lizard or not.
“What’s got you all smile-y over there, Sato?”
Kenji squawked, bolting up out of his seat, his wrist flying to his chest to hide his watch on instinct. Yoshida was sitting right next to him, his head tilted in question. Kenji hadn’t even noticed the man getting closer.
He cleared his throat, trying to pretend that the sound he had just let out was, in fact, a very manly shout and not what a bird sounded like when you startled it. Slowly, he sat back down on the bench. He studied the still silent Yoshida seated in front of him and, by default, the taller man leaning over his friend’s shoulder.
The man’s question didn’t seem to be asked in a rude way. Kenji had learned that Yoshida was just like that, all bubbly and outgoing. He greatly contrasted his friend, the aforementioned Tsuruta, who always seemed to be upset with everything near him. Kenji was starting to think that that’s just what the man looked like, a very unfortunate, permanent resting-bitch-face.
Yoshida was still waiting for an answer. Kenji gulped, staring at the man. Right, normal human interaction. He could do that, he did it all the time.
(he was a liar, the most interaction he’d had in months was with Mina and Emi)
“C-cat video.”
Damn it, why did his voice have to crack, what was he, a teeager? Get it together, Kenji. He quickly pulled on his cool guy persona, straightening out his features and relaxing into the bench. More of his teammates had entered the dugout while he was distracted and now they were looking over to see what the commotion was about. What should he say, what should he-
Yoshida just squinted at him, still smiling. “Fine, keep your secrets,” Then he grinned impishly, leaning in, “The great Ken Sato really watches cat videos, huh?”
Thankfully, Kenji was saved by Coach Shimura making his entrance along with the last of the team. Kenji bolted off of the bench, away from Yoshida and Tsuruta’s curious gazes, and quickly began distracting himself with starting practice.
Kenji flopped onto the couch when he was finally home and in the basement, letting his body sag into the cushions. Emi cooed at him when she saw him, her tail and ear fins wagging. She was with Dad and Mina, running tests for something or other.
Despite his exhaustion, Kenji grinned when he saw her. He pushed himself off of the couch, walking over to lay on the floor next to Emi. He gave her a pat on the leg.
“Hey girl.” He smiled. Emi cooed again in response.
She was sitting on the floor while Mina applied some kind of green paste to her scales. Kenji wasn’t going to ask. He trusted Mina not to do anything harmful to his daughter. The last time he’d asked, Kenji had to sit through a three hour lecture on the chemical composition of different pain-relief serums.
He must have fallen asleep at some point–no longer on the floor, Mina must have moved him–because Kenji woke up when the ground started shaking and, as a result, the couch underneath him. Emi was running around, chasing after Mina and chirping happily. They were playing tag.
Emi caught Mina as she passed under one of her arms, squealing in delight. The sight made Kenji chuckle as she released the robot and they started playing again. Emi deserved to be happy.
Groaning, Kenji pushed himself upright. He leaned back into the couch, pulling out one of Mina’s disgusting coconut waters from the drawer underneath the cushions. As he watched his daughter play with his robotic-pseudo-sister-mother, their laughter echoing through the basement, Kenji found himself being lulled back to sleep by the sudden contentedness he felt.
Yeah, he could get used to this.
The next day at practice, Yoshida called out to Kenji when he saw him in the locker room. The cheery man sat down next to him on the bench, already pulling out his phone.
“Hey Sato! Did you see the news? Apparently Ultraman has a kid, and get this—it’s a kaiju! It’s trending all over Twitter right now.” He pushed his phone towards the sleepy man, right in Kenji’s face.
That woke Kenji up. His eyes snapped to the offered screen, where the video of him as Ultraman calling himself ‘Daddy’ to get Emi to come to him was playing. He groaned internally. Of all the embarrassing, humiliating-
“That’s wild.” He said instead, rubbing his neck. “Are you sure it’s actually his kid though? The internet makes up all kinds of crazy stuff.”
Kenji knew that fact firsthand. The amount of insane theories and stories about him that were floating around on the web was astonishing. He wasn’t actually as much of a playboy as the general population thought him to be. Sure, he’d been on a few dates here and there throughout his career, but not nearly as much as the people claiming to be with him.
(Kenji chose to ignore most of the content posted about him as Ultraman, monsterfuckers were a different breed and he did not want to go down that particular rabbit hole, he would save himself from the sleepless nights)
Yoshida shook his head, pulling his phone back to himself. It seemed that Tsuruta had come over to join his other half, this time accompanied by Fucile, no doubt wanting to know what was going on.
Kenji liked Fucile well enough, but he’d noticed that the man was a bit of a gossip. Not a bit, a major gossip.
Fucile smiled as they came up to the pair. “Ohoho, are you guys talking about that news with Ultraman’s kid?”
Kenji groaned, “Is it really that big of a thing?” He buried his face in his hands, leaning against his locker.
The men looked kind of confused by Kenji’s exasperation, glancing at each other with raised eyebrows, but chalked it up to his usual strangeness. Yoshida nodded, bringing up his phone again.
“Oh yeah, for sure. Ultraman’s trending with like, ten different hashtags. Here look—”
Kenji once again had the older man’s phone shoved in his face and he took it gingerly, scrolling through the Twitter feed Yoshida had pulled up.
…
the original fan @ultraman_number1
I can’t get enough of Ultraman’s kid! She’s so cute AHHH #ultraman #ultramanhasakid #kaijubaby #fatheroftheyear #celebritykids
stringbean @collard_greens07
@ultraman_number1 That’s literally a kaiju? You know they’ve killed countless people, right? #ultramanhateclub
the original fan @ultraman_number1
@collard_greens07 You must be fun at parties.. She’s just a baby, she probably hasn’t hurt anybody
stringbean @collard_greens07
@ultraman_number1 I think you’re forgetting a “yet”
^53 replies
Jamie @thePieGuy
I wish my Dad was as cool as Ultraman.. #ultraman #ultramanhasakid #kaijubaby #ultramannumber1dad
^13 replies
…
The posts just kept coming and coming. Kenji tried to scroll to the bottom of the screen, but more just loaded. He went to the top.. Over 500,000 posts?! Kenji groaned internally. This was getting out of hand.
When he saw Kenji was frozen in shock, Yoshida gently pried the phone from his grasp. He patted the superstar on the back, grinning ear to ear.
“There, there Sato. I don’t get why you’re so worked up over this.”
Fucile hummed in agreement, “Yeah, I’m surprised you haven’t seen this yet. Aren’t you, like, super popular on Twitter?”
Kenji broke out of his stupor. He glanced at the men, who were all still standing around him. Tsuruta had a small hidden smile and Fucile was openly grinning. At least someone was enjoying his suffering. He looked at Yoshida, ignoring Fucile’s question.
“I’m not worked up. I just think it’s weird that people are so concerned about some giant alien.”
“It’s not some giant alien, it’s Ultraman!” Yoshida cried, before going into a rant about why Kenji’s alter ego was awesome.
Ah, so he was a fan.
Tsuruta took pity on him, leaning over to whisper in Kenji’s ear.
“His kids are super into Ultraman, and it’s rubbed off on him,” the man explained.
Kenji hummed to show he’d heard him. It was still weird to have fans as Ultraman. As Ken Sato, he was used to it, but as the 40-meter alien… It was taking some getting used to. Sure, most of the work had been his dad’s, but people were still fans now that Kenji had taken over. Some had even become fans once he did.
He zoned back in to Yoshida and Fucile arguing.
“I don’t know, Yoshida,” Fucile teased, smirking. “Ultraman has a pretty hot bod. I can see what the people are saying. All that saving Tokyo probably makes for a lot of muscle in all the right places~”
Yoshida shook his head. “How would that even work? He’s as tall as a skyscraper! We don’t even know what kind of species he is! What if he’s a robot?”
“Oh, I’d find a way to make it work.” Fucile winked.
Kenji just groaned, burying his face in his hands. What was his life?
Emi’s arm was completely healed now, along with all of the other scrapes and bruises she’d gotten that night. She had a clean bill of health. To celebrate, his dad was over and they were having a party in the basement. Kenji and Mina had decorated the space with giant balloons and streamers.
Currently, Emi was showing Kenji her dance, the one from that TV show she loved so much. They’d made a giant cake, so now she was all hyped up on sugar, bouncing around the room.
She jumped in the air, posing this way and that. Mina had taught her some new spinning dance moves and she squealed happily as she landed them perfectly. Kenji cheered from his place on the couch. Seeing his daughter so happy made him happy as well.
He’d hoped that she wouldn’t get addicted to the song, but Mina had quickly dashed those hopes. Kenji was pretty sure he could sing it in his sleep at this point after hearing the video playing so much.
Oh well, as long as Emi was happy…
Kenji clapped as she finished her dance, whooping and cheering. She chirped happily, her tail wagging at his praise. She pattered over to him, her steps shaking the room. Emi stopped in front of him and Kenji powered up into his Ultraman form. He was getting better at not hitting his head on the ceiling every time he did so.
He scooped up his daughter, swinging her around as she giggled. Kenji smiled. Cradling Emi to his chest, he swayed back and forth, rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings as she slowly fell asleep.
“Sweet dreams, baby..”
Once Emi had fallen fully asleep, he placed her back in her tube—they really should get her somewhere else to sleep, like a bed—and got her car and blanket out of their place on the other side of the room.
Kenji had gotten an Emi-sized blanket made after the KDF attack. He knew she didn’t really need it, she never got cold, but it made him feel better that his baby was comfortable.
After she was settled, he went back to his human form, getting into the elevator with one last glance at his sleeping daughter.
Upstairs, Kenji wandered into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he yawned. “Mina..”
“Yes, Kenji?”
“What do we have to eat that’s easy to make?”
“There are a variety of meals you could make with the ingredients we currently have available, but might I suggest the curry your father made for you before he left for the evening?”
“The–”
Kenji pulled out a drawer and sure enough, there was a bowl of curry waiting for him.
He took it out of the fridge, closing the door. He stared at the bowl.
“Thank you Mina..”
When Mina responded, her tone was warm, fond. “Anytime, Kenji.”
Despite himself, Kenji smiled as he placed the bowl in the microwave.
Kenji was a mess. Emi had hurt herself earlier while they were having one of their now almost daily swimming lessons. She’d swam headfirst into a rock and got scuffed up pretty badly.
He wanted to stay home with her to make sure she was alright, but this was their last practice before the team’s next game and Kenji couldn’t miss it.
It didn’t make him any less anxious though. Kenji had been bouncing his leg with nerves all practice, and Coach had already yelled at him for staring at his watch three times in the last hour.
He couldn’t wait until practice was over.
When practice finally ended, Kenji rushed to the locker room. This wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for him, so no one questioned it.
He’d managed to keep his performance up as the team went through drills and practice plays. He’d even gotten a home run with one of his hits during batting practice, one of the first home runs he’d gotten in months.
Kenji changed quickly, not even bothering to shower. Before he could leave though, he was stopped in his tracks by Yoshida, Tsuruta, and Fucile. The three had been nice to him lately, so he paused to see what they wanted. He’d actually feel bad if he just left and ignored them.
It was Fucile who spoke first this time. “Are you okay, man? You’ve been jumpy all practice…” He trailed off, clearly worried.
Kenji smiled, but he’s pretty sure iit came out as more of a grimace. “I’m fine guys, just need to get home.”
They obviously weren’t satisfied with his answer, but the baseball players let him pass. Kenji hurried out to where he parked his motorcycle.
He didn’t even make it halfway back to his house before he decided to just stash his motorcycle and just fly home as Ultraman.
Kenji didn’t relax until he had Emi in his arms and they drifted off to sleep together.
Now that he was actually getting an adequate amount of sleep and food, Kenji’s performance, and as a result, his standing with the team, was steadily getting better.
Others besides Tsuruta, Yoshida, and Fucile now actively sought out Kenji to talk with him. It was nice, if a bit alarming the first time it had happened, and Kenji made sure to actually talk to his teammates when they approached him, not just blow them off or deflect. For the first time in a long time, Kenji didn’t feel like he wanted to be isolated from the team.
He did still have some limits though. Speaking of…
Kenji kept his face neutral as he felt an arm slide around his shoulders. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Fucile’s limber form.
Now that he’d gotten to know the man, Kenji knew that Fucile was not just a gossip, he was also a massive flirt. He’s pretty sure that the man would flirt with anything that moved.
“So Sato~”
Kenji sighed, exaggerating it so the man knew he was joking. “What do you want now, Fucile?”
The other man pouted, “Ah come on, don’t be like that, Sato,” he quickly brightened, losing his pout as he leaned closer to Kenji. “The guys and I are going out for drinks after this. You should totally come with us.” He grinned.
Kenji turned to actually look at Fucile. The man wasn’t joking, he actually wanted Kenji to go with them. Drinks? He hadn’t gone out drinking with friends in… a long, long, long time.
(he hadn’t had friends in a long, long time, not real ones)
He quickly looked at his watch. His dad was over at the house today… and Mina would be there to supervise. Kenji groaned internally. This meant he’d actually have to socialize. Still, it would be nice to change things up for once… ugh.
Before he could change his mind, Kenji looked back at Fucile, who was expectantly waiting for his answer.
“Fine, I'll come along.”
The man cheered, getting up and running away deeper into the locker room, probably to tell Yoshida and Tsuruta the good news.
Kenji found himself strangely looking forward to tonight.
After practice, once they’d all showered and changed, the four men all headed out with instructions to meet up at the bar—a place close to the stadium called “Sake Joy Palace.” They were driving separately, so Kenji was alone as he drove through the streets.
Kenji silently thanked himself for packing a nicer outfit in his gym bag when he’d gotten ready this morning. Even though they were just getting a few drinks, he liked to look good when he was out in public. It made him feel better, safer, more confident.
He pulled up outside the bar on his motorcycle. Tsuruta was already there, waiting outside the door. Yoshida was supposed to be driving Fucile there, so they were going to be a few minutes late, if Kenji knew them at all. When you put the two most extroverted, excitable guys on the team in the same space together, they tended to get distracted pretty easily.
He parked his motorcycle, sliding off and jogging slightly to meet up with Tsuruta. The man waved when he approached. Once Kenji reached him, the two stood in awkward silence next to the door.
They were the only ones standing outside the bar, everyone else either moved straight inside or walked past, but not without pausing to give the two men odd looks.
Kenji supposed they looked strange, just waiting by the door, two famous baseball players standing in total silence. He leaned against the wall to try to seem more casual.
Honestly, Kenji didn’t think he’d ever had any one-on-one conversations with Tsuruta before now that he thought about it. Usually Yoshida, Fucile, or some other teammate would be there as well to help fill the silence. He kind of liked the quiet, though. With Tsuruta, the silence was peaceful, calm…
“You know, I wasn’t sure you were going to accept Fucile’s invitation.”
Kenji looked over to Tsuruta when he spoke, breaking him out of his thoughts. The man was staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.
Kenji laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I didn’t think I'd say yes either.”
Tsuruta didn’t respond, just kept staring at Kenji. He unconsciously started bouncing his leg while the quiet man stared at him. Finally, Tsuruta shrugged, turning back to the street.
“I’m glad you did.”
The two of them sat in comfortable silence until Yoshida and Fucile finally got there, laughing and stumbling over themselves, a good ten minutes late.
Something new Kenji learned after a few hours in the bar–once they’d actually gotten inside and started drinking–was that Tsuruta transformed into a completely different person once he’d had a few drinks.
Kenji himself hadn’t had much to drink. He was still nursing the same glass of sake he’d ordered when they’d first gotten there. He didn’t like to lose control of his inhibitions and well, now that he had Emi…yeah that wasn’t happening.
“And then—and then I said-” Tsuruta drew himself up in his chair, puffing out his chest. “‘Coach! You have ice cream all over your face!’”
The men all burst into laughter except Kenji. He’d zoned out, so he wasn’t sure what this particular story was about.
“There’s no way!” “You did not!”
“I did, I did, I swear!” Tsuruta took another swig from his glass. “You shoulda seen his face! He-” The man broke off into giggles.
It amazed Kenji to see the normally stoic Tsuruta be so uncomposed. He was glad to see his friends smiling, though. Grinning, Kenji took another small sip from his glass. “Tsuruta! Tell us that story about Yoshida again!”
The man in question groaned, burying his head in his hands as Tsuruta broke into a grin.
As he started his tale, Kenji couldn’t help himself from laughing loudly.
Kenji had learned. He’d learned that Tsuruta and Yoshida had known each other for years, long before they’d signed with the Giants. They’d even played Little League together. Both men had been born in Japan like Kenji and while they were both married, only Yoshida had kids.
Fucile, on the other hand, had moved to Tokyo from Sendai for his boyfriend and stayed for baseball. He coached high schoolers in the off season and he loved to bake. The man had promised to make some for Kenji and bring it to their next practice for him to try.
“-and then he fell right off the back of the bike!” Yoshida giggled.
The men all broke into laughter. Fucile had his arms wrapped around his middle and Kenji swore he saw tears in the man’s eyes as he cackled. He fell off of his stool and another fit of laughter surged through the group.
After they had settled down—other patrons were starting to give them dirty looks—Tsuruta continued the story.
“Well, you didn’t even realize I’d fallen off! I didn’t get a call from you until after you’d made it all the way to Yokohama! I bet you didn’t notice I was missing until you got there.”
Tsuruta pretended to be upset, crossing his arms and turning up his nose, but his shoulders shaking gave him away. Yoshida shrieked in denial and the two of them started arguing playfully.
Kenji felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked over to see Fucile looking at him. Like Kenji, the man hadn’t had a lot to drink, just a glass or two. He was seated next to Kenji at the table.
He tuned out the squabbling men across from them to Fucile, leaning in to hear him better. “What’s up, bro?”
“It’s nice to see you smile, a real one I mean, not that crap you put on for the media.” Fucile teased.
Kenji’s jaw dropped. He knew the other man was forward—too many incidents in the Giant’s locker room came to mind—but he wasn’t expecting Fucile to just out and say something like that when he’d accepted the invitation for drinks tonight.
He laughed nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I laugh all the time.” He finished off his statement with a patented Ken Sato laugh and a sip of his drink. It didn’t taste as good anymore.
Fucile just hummed in response. He looked amused, leaning away from Kenji so he could see him better. He had a stupid, lazy smirk on his face as he dragged his eyes up and down Kenji’s frame.
Kenji felt distinctly like prey about to be eaten by a predator.
Not taking his eyes off of Kenji, Fucile grabbed his glass off of the table, downing the rest of it in one go. Still smirking, he finally turned away.
“Fine, keep your secrets then, Ken Sato.”
The way Fucile looked at Kenji made him feel like he would not, in fact, be keeping his secrets.
“Uhh…sure, bro.” Kenji shrugged, deciding not to pay attention to whatever that was anymore. It wasn’t hard because Yoshida and Tsuruta chose that moment to up the ante on their argument.
Tsuruta lunged across the table, putting Yoshida into a headlock. His much greater height made it easy for the man. Yoshida squawked, trying to escape the hold. His knee jerked and hit the table, making Tsuruta’s full glass topple over. His drink spilled across the table.
Kenji quickly sat up as alcohol flowed off of the table right onto the spot where he’d been sitting seconds before. He sighed in relief. Getting his pants ruined was not something he needed at the moment. He left their table to find some towels with a murmur that he’d be back soon.
In reality, he just wanted to get away from Fucile’s prying eyes. He could feel them following him as he walked away.
After he’d charmed a waitress and gotten some towels to clean up the spill, Kenji made his way back to his teammates. As he approached the table, he saw Yoshida, Tsuruta, and Fucile all leaned in towards each other, huddled up comically. They kept glancing at Kenji as they whispered. Or, well, they tried to whisper, but Yoshida and Tsuruta’s drunkenness ruined any subtlety they might have had.
They stopped whispering and sat back once they saw Kenji approaching. He frowned internally, but outwardly pasted an easygoing smile on his face. Were they talking about him?
Against his will, memories from school in America resurfaced. Kenji shook his head. No, those days were behind him.
“I got some towels~” He waved them around, striding up to the table.
The men made quick work of the spilled drinks and soon they were back to drinking and laughing, although with less roughhousing this time. Their conversation eventually lulled as they finished off the rest of the drinks.
Fucile leaned over to Kenji, slinging an arm around his shoulders.
“So, Ken…Tell us about America,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. Fucile shifted his weight onto Kenji so that he was practically laying on top of the man. “What’s LA like?”
Something Kenji had learned about the redhead—Fucile had American parents, but he’d been born in Japan and had never visited the country. Most people assumed he’d moved from America when he was younger but they were wrong.
“Ooh yeah, we need stories about tiny Sato~“ Tsuruta, the drunk idiot, actually giggled, waggling a finger at Kenji.
He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. Kenji didn’t actually have too many stories from LA, at least not the kind they were thinking of. As much as he played up the bad boy player act, Kenji didn’t actually get out much. He just had too many secrets to bother with a serious relationship. The last time he’d gone on a real date (no, the interview with Ami did not count) was… damn.
Okay, now he could see why Mina said he needed to get out more.
Movement in front of his face brought Kenji out of his thoughts. Yoshida was leaning out of his chair across the table, waving a hand in front of Kenji’s eyes to get his attention. “Hello~ Earth to Sato,” the man pouted. “We want cool stories!”
He really didn’t have any, but it wasn’t like he was about to tell them that. Instead, Kenji leaned back, the very picture of ease, and folded his arms behind his head. He smirked. “What do you wanna know, boys? I’m an open book.”
He wasn’t, really. Kenji was more like one of those locked diaries that kids had. One that was hidden behind a vault door, buried 500 feet underground, guarded by a horde of murderous, starving lions.
Tsuruta immediately started questioning him, not even giving Kenji the time to respond. The man was kind of glad for that though, because he could make out Tsuruta bringing up multiple scandals the media had made up involving him through the man’s jumbled words. Yoshida started asking rapid-fire questions too, though his was a much more innocent line of questioning.
“What does the Walk of Fame look like in person? Have you ever been to New York? Is it true that-”
Yoshida and Tsuruta paused to breathe and Kenji used that opening to take control of the conversation. He snagged onto one of Yoshida’s questions.
“Well, New York City is pretty cool, but it’s got nothing on LA.” He turned to side-eye the man next to him. “I think you would like it there though, Fucile..”
The man grinned, his eyes becoming half-lidded as he looked down at Kenji. Sitting down, the man was taller than Kenji. “Is that so? You’ll have to take me to visit someday, Sato~”
Kenji flushed. Yoshida and Tsuruta cackled across the table as he fumbled for a response. He was Ken Sato, the smoothest man in the world, he didn’t get flustered. He was Ultraman for fuck’s sake.
Kenji straightened up in his seat, opening his mouth to reply. “I–”
A shrill alarm cut him off, coming from his wrist. Kenji startled, mouth snapping shut as his eyes zeroed in on his watch. Ever since Emi got out of the house and got hurt, he hadn’t ignored a single alert from his watch, no matter how much it annoyed his coach.
Seeing what was flashing across the screen, Kenji had to hold back a groan. There was a Kaiju attack downtown. His face twisted in annoyance. Why couldn’t he just have one night to himself?
Noticing the lack of sounds around him, Kenji glanced up. Three sets of eyes stared at him in concern.
Yoshida spoke first, head tilted to the side as he hung off Tsuruta’s shoulder. “Sato? Everything alright?”
Kenji bit the inside of his cheek. He felt bad for leaving after they’d gone through the trouble of inviting him out–and he knew he’d have to face an endless slew of questions–but he was trying to take his duty as Ultraman more seriously now. He had people to protect.
He bit back a sigh, throwing some bills on the table as he slid out of his chair. (he’d learned his lesson after he accidentally left Ami with the check after his abrupt departure from their interview, she could be scary when she wanted to)
“Sorry guys, family emergency.”
And with that, Kenji was speeding out of the bar towards the street where his motorcycle was parked.
Kenji sank into his ice bath, groaning. Everything hurt…
He sighed as he got out of the tub. His phone had been going off constantly since he’d gotten home. If he had to guess, it was probably Yoshida checking in on him.
He’d given the man his number a few days ago, and as a result–of course–now Tsuruta and Fucile had it too.
Picking up the device, Kenji blanched. 143 new texts and 27 missed calls. He ran his hand down his face. Being friendly was too much effort, seriously. He just wanted to disappear mysteriously and show up later looking beat up without any questions. Was that too hard to ask for?
Apparently it was. After the kaiju attack the other day—Gigan this time—he’d skipped practice to heal, but pictures of his bruised face had been leaked online and now his teammates (friends?) were worried. Completely freaking out was a better term for it, really.
He appreciated the care, really he did, but as his phone rang for the 28th time and he let it go to voicemail on the table, Kenji was starting to get annoyed.
He sighed. He would have to talk to them eventually, preferably before they could corner him at the next practice, or things would just keep getting worse.
He picked up his phone and scrolled absently through the messages, not really reading them. The majority were from Yoshida, but Tsuruta and Fucile had sent a solid amount too.
When the phone started ringing again, Kenji almost dropped the device into the water with how bad he startled. He fumbled with it before catching it before it hit the water, letting out a sigh of relief.
Kenji took a deep breath, bracing himself before picking up the call. You’re Ultraman, it’s just a phone call. You’ve fought kaiju way more tough than a couple of baseball players.
The call connected and Kenji didn’t even have a chance to speak before Yoshida’s frantic voice started rushing out of the speaker.
“KEN! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I’VE BEEN?? LEARN TO PICK UP THE PHONE, MAN! WHAT HAP–“
Kenji winced, pulling the device away from his ear. Yoshida was loud. Again, before he had the chance to speak, a different voice echoed from the phone.
Tsuruta seemed to have taken Yoshida’s phone away from him (he supposed they were hanging out today then, maybe they were worrying about Kenji together) but Kenji could hear the other man still yelling in the background of the call.
“-shida, your dad is showing, get it together, man.”
Kenji listened in silence as Tsuruta addressed the other, the yelling slowly started to fade. His hopes for a reasonable phone call with the man were dashed, though, when Tsuruta started speaking to Kenji instead.
“Sato, excuse me, but where the fuck have you been?”
He laughed awkwardly, rubbing his bruised shoulder. “Sorry Tsuruta,” he apologized. “I just got caught up in some family stuff. I didn’t mean to worry you guys, I’m fine.”
Tsuruta somehow managed to make Kenji hear his eyebrows furrowing through the phone.
“Cut the shit, Sato. Family business doesn’t get—Yoshida, stop—doesn’t get you all beat up like that.”
He cursed whoever had posted those photos. Somehow, the media had gotten a hold of pictures of him coming back from the Kaiju fight in his human form, looking like he’d just lost a very violent fight with a possessed baseball bat. So great for his image.
“I just crashed my motorcycle on the way home, no biggie. I can barely even feel it.” He reassured them–y’know, like a liar–as his shoulder tinged with pain. He stood up from his bathtub, grabbing the towel he’d set nearby.
There were some shuffling noises and Yoshida seemed to have wrestled the phone back from Tsuruta’s grasp. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ken? You looked really awful in those photos, man! Like, you looked super horrible-”
“-ida, have some tact!”
Kenji swapped the phone from his hand to his uninjured shoulder, leaning over to pick some clothes off of the floor. He sniffed them and shrugged. Good enough.
“I’m fine Yoshida, promise.” He held up his pinky, even though the other wouldn’t be able to see it.
He put the phone on speaker and tossed it onto the bed so he could get dressed. It was a more difficult task than usual with his shoulder flaring in pain every time he so much as lifted it too high.
He could hear Yoshida huff on the other end of the line. “Yeah, well, we better see you at practice tomorrow, Ken! I mean it, if you’re not there i’ll—”
More scuffling sounds echoed from the phone on the bed before someone grunted like they’d been elbowed in the side and Tsuruta’s voice came from the phone again.
“Ignore him, Sato, he’s harmless,” he said. Kenji could have sworn the man sounded amused about it too.
“Harmless my–” muffled speech came from the phone, “Yoshida! Would you stop—Ack! Dude! Did you just lick me??” “Well don’t put your hand on my face—”
Kenji listened as the two adults broke into childish bickering, accompanied by the sounds of Yoshida’s phone being dropped as one of them–he’s assuming Yoshida–tackled the other to the floor.
He made his way downstairs as the two wrestled. Kenji was pretty sure they forgot he was still on the phone with them. He considered reminding them of his presence but figured it would be funnier to see how long they could bicker before remembering he was listening. He started making his way to the kitchen.
“-stop biting, you little freak!” That was Tsuruta.
“I’m not little! You’re just freakishly tall!”
Although he was yelling, Kenji could hear the smile in Yoshida’s voice. He could practically see the man’s evil grin through the cell phone. He moved through the kitchen, opening the fridge to rummage around for something to eat.
He could hear someone get tackled again and Kenji snorted in his head. Two grown-ass men, arguing like five-year-olds.
Kenji pulled a take-out box out of the fridge, smelling it. It hadn’t gone bad and he didn’t feel like cooking, so soggy noodles it was. He put his phone down on the counter on speaker and placed the take-out box into the microwave. They still hadn’t realized they were still on call with him.
“Would you hold still—” “Stop to—”
The timer beeped and Kenji took his noodles out of the microwave. He decided he’d listened to Yoshida and Tsuruta fighting for long enough and cleared his throat, leaning against the counter as his dinner cooled.
There was a thump and Kenji could hear the two men scrambling to get away from each other on the other end of the line.
“Ken, hi- you’re still here- um..” Yoshida sounded out of breath. He could hear Tsuruta snort in the background.
Kenji smirked. “You’re the one who called me, or did you forget?”
Yoshida made an offended sound, “Well maybe if you didn’t ghost us after getting hurt, I wouldn’t have to call you.” The man defended. “We’re your friends Ken!”
“I-” Whatever retort Kenji had thought up died in his throat. Friends… He hadn’t had friends in a long time. He swallowed. “Thanks, guys.”
He heard Tsuruta scoff in the background of the call. “Whatever, idiot. You better be at practice by Thursday.”
Kenji could practically see Yoshida nodding in agreement. “Yeah! Or- or we’ll show up at your house and drag you there!” The man piped announced.
Tsuruta sighed again. “No, we won’t Yoshida,” then to Kenji, “But you better be there.”
Kenji chuckled, pushing off the counter to make his way to his dining room. “Alright, alright, I'll be there,” He put his hand holding the phone over his heart, even though the other two couldn’t see it. “I promise.”
Tsuruta humphed. “We’ll see. Goodbye, Sato.”
“Wait! Tsu! I wasn’t done talking to him yet–” The call disconnected.
Kenji laughed again. He smiled, digging into his noodles, his phone forgotten on the table.
The call had left him feeling warm. It was weird, but Kenji could see himself getting used to it. Yoshida and Tsuruta, hell, even Fucile, as weird as he was, had wormed their way into his heart. Kenji actually.. enjoyed going out for drinks with them. He usually saw it as a chore, more time he had to spend being Ken Sato, but the other night…
He felt like he could just be Kenji.
Kenji sighed, leaning back in his chair as he finished his noodles. His eyes drooped as he slumped forward. A small nap wouldn’t hurt.
“Hello, Kenji.”
To his credit, Kenji didn’t startle for once. He cracked an eye open, glancing at Mina, who was floating across from him.
He sighed, fully opening his eyes and sitting up. “What’s up Mina?”
“Emi has woken up from her nap. She is currently downstairs and she would love to play with you.”
Despite his exhaustion, Kenji smiled, rising from his seat. “Right. Let’s go then.” He hadn’t really seen Emi all day, it would be nice to spend some time with his daughter.
Kenji had ended up playing baseball with Emi for a few hours until it was time for her to go to bed. Now, it was Friday and he was on his bike, swerving through traffic as he headed to practice.
Not that he believed Tsuruta would let Yoshida break into his house, but Kenji didn’t want to risk them showing up and finding out about something they shouldn’t. Emi's favorite activity recently seemed to be testing how soundproof the basement really was.
The good thing was, Kenji’s injuries had mostly healed. All that remained were the last of the bruises painting both his torso and the side of his face yellow and green.
He pulled into a parking spot near the entrance to the athletic complex, swinging off his bike with only a mid grunt as his sides ached. Kenji was not looking forward to practice.
It wasn’t long before he was approaching the entrance to the locker room, the sounds of his teammates' voices drifting under the door into the hallway. Just as Kenji was about to push on the door, it swung open violently, hitting the wall with a crack as a body flew out of it and into him, sending both of them toppling to the ground. He barely managed to twist so he would hit the ground instead of whoever had run into him.
“Sato!”
The man currently wrapped around Kenji like a koala was, of course, Yoshida. Kenji hummed at him in response. He heard chuckles from above them and looked up to see Tsuruta staring at the two with amusement, Fucile hanging off his shoulder with a smug grin.
Behind them, in the locker room, Kenji could see their other teammates also laughing, most likely amused by Yoshida’s antics. He groaned, patting Yoshida on the shoulders.
“Okay, okay, get up. My ribs are still bruised, man.”
The shorter man’s expression dropped immediately, and he scrambled to get off of Kenji while spouting apologies. He only managed to hurt Kenji’s ribs more as he elbowed them with his erratic movements.
Finally, Tsuruta took pity on him, hauling Yoshida up by his armpits.
Kenji laid on the floor, catching his breath.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” That was Fucile, the man now standing over Kenji, his grin never leaving his face.
Kenji huffed, taking Fucile’s hand when he offered it and getting pulled off of the ground. His side twinged in pain again as he did, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
The four of them made their way inside the locker room. The other guys clapped Kenji on the shoulders as he walked towards his locker, all saying things like, “Good to have you back, man” and “Glad you’re okay.” It made some deep part of Kenji’s mind melt just a little.
He grabbed his bag from Tsuruta, who had grabbed it from where it had fallen when Yoshida tackled him.
Speaking of the man, he had apparently decided that he’d apologized enough and was now needling Kenji for details about his “motorcycle accident” and what he had been up to for the last two weeks.
Maybe Kenji could still leave if he pretended his injuries were still acting up?
He mulled over the idea as the rest of the locker room quieted, pretending they weren’t listening to Kenji and Yoshida’s one sided conversation.
Thankfully, Kenji was saved by Coach Shimura’s entrance. The locker room went completely silent as the man surveyed the room with a frown, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Sato. Good to have you back.”
Kenji felt his breath come back to him as the coach turned around and walked away and the locker slowly came back to life.
Yoshida clapped him on the back. “That’s as warm a welcome as ever. He must really like you,” he pouted. “All I got when I came back from my ankle was a grunt.”
Fucile smirked. “That’s probably because you sprained your ankle jumping on a trampoline, Yoshida, not getting in a motorcycle accident.”
Kenji’s mood soured at the reminder that he was lying to his friends. No one seemed to notice as the two bickered, but he was sure to fake a smile as he met Tsuruta’s questioning eye. The man turned away, so he must have bought it.
It was almost practice time, so he grabbed his towel and water bottle and headed towards the field. Tsuruta joined him and the two troublemakers followed, still arguing. Everything felt normal.
Kenji smiled. He liked that. He could be normal for once.
Everything was not normal. Actually, everything was as far from normal as it could get.
The day had started out pretty great. He’d spent most of the day at home with Emi, Mina, and, surprisingly, his dad. It still kind of left him on edge, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he was actually pretty happy about how close they’d become in the last couple of months.
Speaking of people he’d been getting close to recently, Kenji, Yoshida, Tsuruta, and Fucile had been hanging out outside of practice almost every week since he’d recovered from his ‘motorcycle accident’.
He would admit, it was nice to have friends around. They still hadn’t come over to his house, no matter how much Yoshida and Fucile begged–Tsuruta too, although he was more subtle about it–and whined, but they often met in town or at the other’s apartments to hang out. It was fun.
That was why he had agreed to go to dinner with them tonight. His dad had agreed to watch Emi for the night and he’d gotten on his–new–motorcycle to head to Yokohama for the night.
Which is, of course, how he had ended up in this situation.
Kenji sprinted down the destroyed street, Fucile, Yoshida, and Tsuruta hot on his heels. He vaulted over a piece of fallen rubble, stopping to help the other three climb over as well.
“Come on, come on! This way, there’s a shelter three blocks up ahead!”
He continued leading them down the street. A kaiju had appeared out of the port while they were at dinner. Most of the other people nearby had already escaped, making their way to the nearest kaiju attack shelter, but the four of them had gotten stuck having to go around a collapsed building, so now it was just the four of them and the giant monster on their tail.
“How– *huff* are you so– hah, good at this?” Yoshida panted as they ran.
The three men were all panting as they tried to keep up with Kenji, who looked completely unaffected, not even out of breath. He was sure his alien biology had something to do with it, but the almost year of fighting kaiju since he returned to Japan certainly didn’t hurt.
“It’s like you’re a friggin’ superhero,” Fucile bit out.
Kenji winced.
“Just keep going. The sooner we make it out of danger, the better.”
And the sooner kenji could sneak off to fight the monster. He’d tried to run when it had first appeared, but Tsuruta had firmly grabbed his arm and said it was better if they all stuck together.
“It’s safer to stick together. We don’t need you getting hurt again on our watch.”
Kenji appreciated the sentiment but it was annoying when he was the only one who could deal with the monster. He didn’t exactly trust the KDF to do the job for him, for both civilian and kaiju’s sake.
Shit, Kenji cursed in his head.
Far up ahead, he could hear the sound of concrete cracking, a telltale sign that a piece was about to break off a building and fall down to the street towards where they were running.
His hearing had been improving rapidly ever since he’d started embracing the ultraman side of him. Usually it was annoying, but it was times like these that he was grateful for it.
He skidded to a stop, nearly making the others trip, except for Fucile who crashed straight into Kenji’s back. He barely flinched.
“Jeez, man. Are you made of bricks? What’s the deal?”
Kenji nodded up ahead.
“Look.”
One block in front of them, a large chunk of roof broke off of one of the buildings and crashed down to the street below, taking out some smaller buildings with it. Dust and debris flew everywhere.
Tsuruta coughed. “We’ll have to go around it.”
Kenji nodded and started leading them back down the street, heading for a side road that would take them around the now blocked path. The debris from the roof and the other structures it had destroyed had spread out over the narrow street, completely blocking off their way through.
A rumbling from in front of them caused the four to look up in terror.
The kaiju was headed directly for them.
Yoshida screamed, “The noise from the crash must have drawn its attention!”
“Shit, we’ll have to go back the other way.” Kenji started running back towards where they came from.
Fucile snapped his head towards Kenji. “The road is blocked, We have to go around!”
“There’s no time!”
They reluctantly followed him, starting to sprint as the kaiju roared behind them.
When they got to the rubble, Kenji kneeled, clapping his hands. There was a large slab hanging out over the top of the pile.
“C’mon, I’ll help you up.”
One by one, they clambered on top of the rubble. Once all three were up, he stood and jumped, catching the edge of the slab. In one quick motion, he climbed up and over, landing on his feet. He looked up and dusted himself off to see the three men staring at him. Yoshida’s jaw was practically on the floor and Fucile was looking him up and down.
Kenji’s ears burned as he pushed past them, beginning the scale across the pile of rubble. With the sounds of the approaching kaiju growing louder behind them, the four scrambled across the large pieces of debris.
As they reached the end of the rubble, there was a large slab leaning against the pile, forming a slide with a short drop off. Kenji quickly slid down it and landed, ready to catch the others as they came down.
Once they saw Kenji slide down they quickly followed suit. Yoshida came down first, with Tsuruta following soon after.
“Agh!”
Kenji snapped his head up as he heard Fucile cry out. He looked up to the rubble to see that Fucile’s leg had snagged on a piece of rebar as he slid down. The man came tumbling down and Kenji easily caught him in his arms, setting him onto the ground immediately and kneeling.
The metal had left a long jagged gash down Fucile’s leg. Blood was already starting to pour out of it.
Tsuruta and Yoshida rushed to the other side of the man, taking his weight from Kenji. He was already sitting back and taking his flannel off, ripping up the fabric.
“Yoshida, press down on it. Stop the bleeding.”
The shorter man hurried to do as he was instructed, leaving Tsuruta holding Fucile’s head.
The red head gasped. “Shit, that hurts.”
Kenji quickly took over from Yoshida, swapping his hands in exchange for pressing down one of the strips of shirt onto his leg before quickly wrapping it with another. He tied it off, blood already starting to stain the dark fabric. The kaiju was getting closer.
“That’ll have to do for now, c’mon. Can you sit up?”
Fucile started leaning forward, grunting in pain. Kenji looked to the man closest to him.
“Yoshida, help me carry him!”
“R-right!”
They each wrapped an arm around him, lifting him out. Fucile cried out, his face twisting.
“Ok, lets–”
The ground shook as the kaiju was upon them. It was only a block away now, eyes trained on the group. Kenji managed to keep his footing and hand on Fucile, but Yoshida wasn’t as lucky. The rumbling caught his off guard, making him stumble and fall to the ground, catching himself on his palms. A few feet away, Tsuruta also stumbled, tipping backwards and falling.
As he hit the ground, Kenij watched in slow motion as a piece of rubble slid off of the top of a nearby pile, headed straight for the downed man.
“Tsuruta! Watch o–”
It landed on the taller man’s torso and legs. All of them went silent.
Tsuruta’s scream ripped through Kenji’s enhanced ears. The man’s hands scrambled against the concrete, pushing and scratching but it didn’t move at all. The other three men all sprinted to his side, Fucile hobbling with the help of Kenji. He set the injured man down gently before moving to help.
Yoshida was trying to lift the slab off of Tsuruta, but he wasn’t nearly strong enough and his attempts only made Tsuruta cry out in pain.
It was a huge piece of concrete. Luckily, only a small part of it had actually landed on Tsuruta, otherwise Kenji was sure he would’ve been crushed instantly…
No time to think about that.
Kenji moved around the edge of the slab, looking for weak points. He was sure he could lift it, though it would be a struggle. The problem was that the others would see and Kenji didn’t know how to explain his superhuman strength to them.
The other problem was that they didn’t know the state of Tsuruta’s legs underneath. If they lifted it right now, he might bleed out before they could get help.
The kaiju roared again, sounding much closer. Kenji snapped his head towards it. It was only a street down from them now. He could see its face, four large eyes all locked onto them.
Shit, shit, shit. He looked back at his friends. Fucile was on the ground, clutching at his leg, face screwed up in pain. Yoshida was at Tsuruta's side, tears streaming down his face as he tried to free his friend. Similarly, Tsuruta’s face was twisted up, wet from tears. Kenji could see the blood slowly starting to seep out from underneath the broken concrete.
“Sato, help me!”
The Kaiju stepped closer. They were within its reach. Its fist swung out towards them, moving closer and closer.
“Sato!”
What could he do? How could he fix this? How–
“Kenji!”
Just as the Kaiju’s fist was about to crush them, it stopped, gripped by a giant silver hand. Kenji was transformed, standing over his friends, blocking the kaiju from reaching them.
The monster was only stopped in confusion for a second, before it reached out to attack with its other hand. Kenji punched it in the chest, sending it flying back down the street.
“S-sato?”
Kenji–Ultraman–looked down behind him. All three men were staring up at him with wide eyes. Kenji held back a flinch, looking away. He didn’t want to see the anger, or worse, fear, when they realized he’d been lying to them.
“I’m sorry,” he said in lieu of answering, “I-”
The kaiju roared as it got back up, slamming a fist into the top of a nearby building. Kenji fully turned to face it. He could hear the sound of KDF helicopters approaching in the distance. His friends would be fine.
He leapt at the kaiju, tackling it back down to the ground. He slammed its head into the ground. It laid back, dazed. Kenji didn’t care. He kept punching and punching and punching.
When the kaiju finally stopped moving, unconscious, he allowed himself to look back at his friends. The KDF surrounded them, forcing Yoshida and Fucile to back up as they got the rubble off of Tsuruta. They were still staring at him, letting themselves be led away without resistance.
A bright light flashed in Kenji’s face. He put a hand up to shield his eyes. A KDF helicopter had a spotlight trained on his face.
“Ultraman, surrender yourself to the Kaiju Defense Force for questioning or face the consequences.” A robotic voice spoke from a speaker somewhere.
Before Kenji could even open his mouth to respond, the Kaiju let out a grumble and everyone turned to look at it, waiting with bated breath for it to move. When it didn’t they turned back to Kenji, but he was already gone.
He hadn’t left home since the incident. There hadn’t been any more kaiju attacks since that day and practice had been cancelled all week since Fucile, Yoshida, and Tsuruta were all in the hospital and Kenji was MIA.
Kenji had asked Mina to hack the hospital records, so he at least knew Tsuruta was out of the critical care and that they were all alive, but he hadn’t reached out and neither had any of them.
He’d spent the week spending time with Emi more than ever. She was happy to have her dad around so much, but Kenji could tell she knew something was off about him. She kept bringing him fish to cheer him up and he appreciated it, but he was tired of having to pick up fish parts when she got distracted and ate them herself.
Now, Kenji wasn’t hiding. Not at all. No matter what Mina and his dad said, he wasn’t, he swears. Kenji was just, taking some time to regroup. A tactical retreat, if you will. He definitely, absolutely wasn’t avoiding his friends because he didn’t want to see the anger and disappointment now that they
Haha, that would be crazy. Haha…
Kenji groaned, burying his palms in his eyes. He dragged his hands down his face after rubbing his eyes, sinking deeper into the couch. He’d been rotting here for a few hours, having moved upstairs after putting Emi to bed for the night. Mina had gone to recharge after some time and he was left by himself.
“Long night?”
Kenji startled, flailing and falling right off the couch as his dad popped up behind him. He groaned, face down on the floor.
His dad took a seat on the end of the couch as Kenji peeled himself off the floor. He flopped down next to him.
“Are you still worried about your friends, Kenji? They’ll come around and text you eventually. I;m sure they just need some time to gather their thoughts.”
Kenji sighed.
“That’s the thing, though. They already texted me, all three of them. Called too,” he bit out with a huff.
His dad looked shocked. “Why are you still moping around here, then? Did they not invite you out again.”
Kenji bit his lip. “...”
“What was that?”
“I said I haven’t opened any of their texts yet.”
Hayao Sato managed to look even more shocked before his face morphed into a look of understanding.
“You’re afraid of what they're going to say?”
Kenji nodded, hiding his face in his sweater.
“You know, when your mother first found out I was part alien, I was a mess.”
Kenji’s head snapped up, shocked. His dad didn’t talk about his mom very often, the memories too painful for the old man to bear.
“You.. you were?”
“Oh yes, son,” he nodded. “I didn’t leave the house for weeks, wouldn’t return any of her texts or calls. It took her showing up and nearly breaking down my door for me to talk to her.” His dad laughed, lost in fond memories. “It took a while, but she finally got through to me.”
Kenji leaned forward in interest, eager to learn anything about his missing mom.
“What did she say?”
“Well first, she called me an idiot. It turns out, she wasn’t upset with me about being Ultraman. A little shocked, sure, and worried, but she was never mad or scared of me. She actually said it made a lot of things about me make sense. Why I was always disappearing on dates, showing up injured. Hehe, she actually told me she was worried I had joined a gang.”
Kenji snorted. “You? A gang member?”
His dad laughed in return. “Hard to believe, huh? Well, the important thing is, you’ll never know how people feel if you never talk to them.” He gave Kenji and imploring look.
He sat back, face shifting back into worry after his dad finished talking. Would his friends really accept him? Or would they just look at him with fear and hatred like they did that night? Kenji sighed, leaning into the soft couch as he rubbed his face with his hands again.
“I guess you’re right, dad. We’ll see…”
Hayao smirked, giving Kenji a single nod. “That’s all I can ask. Now..”
He held up a deck of cards.
“How about you let this old man kick your ass at poker?”
Kenji barked a laugh, sitting up fully as he accepted the challenge. The two men laughed as they played long into the night, all other troubles forgotten.
Yeah, Kenji was really glad to have his dad back.
Kenji walked agonizingly slowly down the empty hospital hallway. He had a bunch of daffodils and white tulips in one hand and two cards in another. Based on what Mina told him, Yoshida had already been released from the hospital but Fucile and Tsuruta were still being kept for observation. Though, Yoshida visited quite often, apparently.
He stopped in front of a closed, white door. The woman at the front desk had told him that this was the location of their shared room–quite enthusiastic to have the famous baseball player in front of her–but standing here didn’t make it any easier to actually knock inside.
Hesitantly, Kenji raised a hand, hovering in front of the door. It wasn’t hard, he just had to knock, he’d done it a million times so why was his heart beating so fast?
He steeled himself, knocking before he could chicken out.
Crap, why had he done that?? Kenji stumbled back a step, ready to turn and walk back out of the hospital. Maybe they were asleep, maybe he got the room number wrong, maybe–
“It’s open.”
Fucile’s easygoing voice echoed out of the room, muffled by the door.
Shit, he really couldn’t back out now, huh?
Kenji grimaced, turning back to the door and, after another moment of hesitation, slid it open.
Both of the room’s occupants sat frozen on their beds as he walked in, awkwardly holding the flowers and cards he’d brought with him.
Just as Kenji was about to say screw it and walk out, Fucile’s jaw dropped.
“K-kenji??”
The man immediately started to clamber out of his bed, face twisted in pain as he moved his leg, making Kenji rush towards him and push him back.
“Stop that, you’re going to hurt yourself again, idiot!”
Fucile stared up at him as he let himself be manhandled back into bed. A soft laugh disguised as a cough caught both of their attention. They turned around to see Tsuruta with a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his chuckles even though they clearly caused him pain, going off the wince on his face.
Kenji scowled. “You too, Tsuruta. You’re going to rip your stitches.”
Tsuruta had been pretty lucky when the rubles had fallen on him that day. According to the records Mina has stolen for him, he’d had major bruising and a few cracked ribs, but was well into recovery, the only major injury being a piece of rebar from the slab impaling his abdomen, thankfully missing all of his organs. He was set to make a full recovery, but that certainly wouldn’t stop Kenji from worrying.
The man smiled. “You really never change, do you Kenji?”
He looked to the side, embarrassed. The stitching on the crappy hospital blankets suddenly seemed very interesting.
Fucile cackled, throwing his arms around Kenji’s shoulders. “Just admit it. You love us.”
He scoffed, sitting on the edge of the bed so Fucile wouldn’t have to strain himself. It was clear that he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. He looked down his nose at Fucile, oozing playful superiority.
“Someone has to have the brain cell here, and it’s pretty clear neither of you have it right now.”
Fucile cackled, doubling over as the other two had small smiles on their faces. Kenji realized something, sobering up. He glanced between them.
“You.. you both called me by my first name.”
Tsuruta snorted, Fucile soon following suit.
“Well, we did all almost die together, right? I reckon that call for a first name basis, don’t you?”
“Umm, I guess so.. Tony.”
The man lit up with a grin. He slapped Kenji on the shoulder.
“See, that wasn’t so hard man.”
Kenji smiled softly before frowning again.
“So.. you’re not mad?”
Their faces lost some of their mirth, the moment over.
Fucile looked away, letting go of Kenji and he held his breath, fearing the worst. This was it, they were going to tell him to get out and never speak to them again. Kenji would probably quit the team, maybe move back to America, if he could find a way to bring Emi. Their disappointment was just too much to face.
Tsuruta spoke first, sealing Kenji’s fate.
“Oh, I was pissed.”
Kenji nearly broke down right there, but he managed to keep his composure. He looked down at his lap, not wanting to meet their eyes. So, his fears were right.
“But then, I realized why you did it. Can’t be mad at you for protecting your daughter right?”
Kenji’s head snapped up, staring at Tsuruta in shock.
“Wha.. how–”
The man smiled. “I mean, it was pretty obvious in hindsight. You’re not exactly quiet when you make all of those calls home, you know that, right?”
Kenji flushed, looking away again before Fucile pounced on him.
“C’mon man, How could we be mad at you for being a super awesome, heroic, giant alien?? That’s, like, the coolest thing ever!”
He could feel the tears starting to cloud his vision. He leaned away from Fucile, trying to discreetly wipe his eyes, but the man only grinned evilly, eyes also suspiciously wet, before pulling him in for a hug.
“I know you’re like, super emotionally repressed, dude, but we’re not mad at you. You’re our friend and we care about you. You don’t have to be scared or alone anymore.”
With that, the dam broke and Kenji was openly sobbing in Fucile’s arms.
Tsuruta smiled from the bed across from them. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. We love you, Kenji. Let us in.”
The three of them stayed there for a while, talking and crying as Kenji shared almost all of his life story. From his dad’s injury, to moving to America and the trainwreck that was, his mom’s disappearance, Emi, everything.
They had fallen into a comfortable silence before Fucile suddenly shot up in bed, eyes wide.
“Dudes, Yoshida is going to be so mad that he missed this.”
Kenji laughed as he led three men to his front door, all of them gawking at everything in sight.
Yoshida had, in fact, been very upset to miss the tearful reunion, but he quickly got over it when Kenji promised they could all finally come over to his house. They had all been asking forever, and now that they knew he was Ultraman, Kenji had finally relented.
He let them inside and Fucile and Yoshida immediately began oohing and ahhing at everything they saw. Tsuruta was less obvious about it, but Kenji could tell he was impressed too.
Was Kenji that extra bitch who had a fountain in his doorway? Yes. Did he enjoy the awed faces of his friends as they appreciated his home for the first time? Also yes. He’d put a lot of money into this place, okay? It was only fair that someone else got to appreciate it.
“Welcome home, Kenji. Will your friends be staying for dinner?”
The three men squawked as Mina floated around the corner. Yoshida actually almost fell over.
“Talking robot??”
Kenji snorted, waving hello to his psuedo-sister. “We’ll put them down as a maybe, Mina,” he chuckled. “Don’t want to overwhelm them just yet.”
Fucile appeared at Kenji’s side, leaning on his shoulders, straining because they were eye-level for the red-haired man.
“Who’s getting overwhelmed?” He waved at Mina. “Nice to meet you… Mina, was it?”
She floated in place. “Of course, it’s nice to meet Anthony Fucile. I have read much about you.”
Kenji snorted as Fucile froze in place, sending a panicked look at Kenji. He knew Mina was messing with him–she had a sadistic streak a mile long, as much as she denied it–but Fucile didn’t.
“Alright, I think we should get out of the doorway, yeah?”
He tugged on the man’s arm, leading them further into the house, with Yoshida and Tsuruta following quickly on their heels. He said his goodbye to Mina, the robot rotating in the air to watch them go.
As soon as they were further away, Fucile whipped his head around to stare at Kenji. “Dude! Is your crazy robot going to track me down and kill me??” He whisper-screamed.
Kenji laughed openly, clutching his sides at the actual panic in his friend's voice.
“Nah, she’s just messing with you man. We don’t get guests very often.”
The shorter man looked away, mumbling under his breath, but Kenji heard it anyway. “I can see why…”
They moved on and Kenji gave them a tour of the whole house, and all of his friends could say they were impressed. They had money, but this was something else.
Eventually, Kenji led them to the elevator that went to the basement, where Emi and his dad were waiting.
After the door slid open, revealing the high tech elevator, Kenji spun around, splaying his hands in the air with a smirk.
“Are you guys ready to meet my daughter? She’s a bit of a handful."
They looked confused for a second before Yoshida gasped excitedly.
“Holy shit, the kaiju baby!!”
After his outburst, the other two joined Yoshida in talking at Kenji rapidly, speaking over each other as the four of them all piled into the huge futuristic elevator.
By the time they reached the bottom, Yoshida and Fucile were vibrating with excitement, Tsuruta looked eager, yet nervous, and Kenji looked resigned but amused.
The first thing they saw was Emi barreling towards them, making the three men scramble to the side as she picked up her dad in his human form and hugged him.
“Oh shit, that’s a big baby. The tv doesn’t do her justice,” Fucile stated.
After Emi had put him back down, wagging her tail excitedly, Kenji smacked him in the back of the head.
“Don’t teach her bad words.”
“She can’t even talk! Why am I getting yelled at? Yoshida cussed too!”
That was true, the man had let out a string of choice words when he’d first dive to the side to avoid the grabby hands of the rampaging baby. Well, rampaging was a strong word. She just got excited. She didn’t know her strength yet, as Kenji was a bit more durable than the average human.
They spent the rest of the day playing with Emi and getting introduced to his dad, who had made his appearance shortly after they arrived.
As they sat down on the floor for dinner, not wanting to leave Emi down here by herself, Kenji couldn’t help but feel happy as he was surrounded by his friends and family.
I guess everything worked out after all, he thought with a big smile.
He watched Emi steal some chicken off of Fucile’s plate and shove it in her mouth, chewing happily as the man squawked indignantly, chasing after her.
Yeah, everything was great.