Pairing: Sakamoto Tatsuma/Katsura Kotarou
Note: Written for asharedsouppot's winter exchange.
Prompt: Sakamoto/Katsura fic; a "five times" fic using colour prompts. Any rating, era, or universe.
Sakamoto Tatsuma peered into the source of the voice—a young man, roughly around his age, was standing there with one of his fingers bleeding, blinking like he wasn't sure just happened.
"Hey, are you alright? It looks like you just cut your finger," he said, stating the obvious.
"I... I'm fine," the guy looked aside. "It's just a small cut."
"Hey, there's no such thing as a cut too small or too big—they all should be treated evenly!" Sakamoto tapped his shoulder. "Ah, but I guess there are some that are too big! Ahahaha!"
"A, ahaha..." It wasn't funny, but the other guy decided to laugh along anyway.
"That's the spirit!" Sakamoto grinned. The long-haired smiled, as he noticed a red charm hidden under Sakamoto's clothing, and wondered what it was for.
"Hey, I don't think we know each other yet! Ahaha! I'm Sakamoto Tatsuma!"
"I'm Katsura," he replied promptly. "Katsura Kotarou."
"Ah, Zura! What a perfect name for someone who have such beautiful hair! Ahahaha!"
Katsura's smile turned upside down. "It's not Zura, it's Katsura."
Sakamoto Tatsuma turned his head at the familiar voice and found one of his comrades holding his index finger, red dripping slowly from it.
"Oi oi, Zura, what are you doing?"
"It's not Zura, it's Katsura," the man spoke up, ignoring his bleeding hand.
"You cut your finger."
"And I have wounds on my right shoulder and left leg, I think I can survive a finger cut."
"It doesn't mean that you don't need to treat it!" Sakamoto worriedly said. Katsura blinked. The taller man got a small, red box from his pocket and picked out a roll of bandage. "Here, let me do this. Wait, or is this really it? Or is it this way? Or that...?"
It did nothing to ease the wound but Katsura smiled anyway.
"Hey! You're Zura, aren't you?"
Katsura's heart skipped a beat as he turned his head to a voice he hadn't heard in years. "Sakamoto!"
"What a place to meet again! Ahahaha! How many years has it been?"
"Four, at least." Katsura was amused to hear Sakamoto's laugh again, and dazzled by his shiny new red coat. "The sunglasses suit you."
"Thank you! Ahahaha! I travel a lot near the sun so I kind of really need it." Katsura didn't know if he was joking or not, but knowing Sakamoto, it was probably true. "What are you doing here?"
"I was... in the neighborhood," Katsura replied as he saw a man in a shinsengumi uniform passing by, and looked down to hide his face.
"Ahahaha, so you're running from the poli—hmpfh!"
"Not so loud!" he hissed. Sakamoto slipped a small "ahahaha okay!" and nodded.
"So it's true, I heard you still do all kinds of stuff to take over the country. That's awesome—your stubbornness."
Katsura took that as a compliment. "Well, thank you. And you? What are you doing here?"
"Well there's this some kind of an annual business meeting of intergalactical merchants or something. Mutsu does those stuff anyway so for me this is kind of just visiting home for a few days!" Katsura decided he didn't want to ask who Mutsu was.
"Eh? What happened?" Sakamoto looked at Katsura's slender fingers. "Oh, you cut your finger! Ah, I don't have a bandage!"
"Nah, it's alright, I can—"
"Here," Sakamoto pulled his scarf, wiped the blood, tore a little part of the fabric, and wrapped Katsura's finger.
"What are you doing! It's going to get dirty! Ah look, it's dirty already!"
"Nah, I like the color. Besides," Sakamoto grinned. "It's a keepsake of our first meeting after four years!"
Katsura had to hide his face again, but this time it wasn't because of a passing policeman.
It was exactly one year after Katsura met Sakamoto, and he was standing at the same place. After all, Sakamoto did say the meeting was annual thing. It might be a long shot, but he thought it was worth a try.
His face lighted up. "I-it's not Zura! It's Katsura!" He couldn't hide his excitement.
"I never thought I'd meet you here again! Ahahaha!"
"I know!" Katsura would never admit he was waiting for him.
"How have you been? Any luck taking down the government yet? Ahaha!"
"It's—ouch!" Katsura yelled. "Paper cut!"
Sakamoto raised an eyebrow. "Paper cut? But you're not holding any paper."
"W-well it's still a paper cut!"
"Let me see that," Sakamoto took Katsura's hand. "You're right, it's a paper cut! I wonder how that happened." Katsura secretly sighed in relief. "Here, have a band-aid. I get wounds a lot lately that Mutsu got sick of treating me and threw a box of band-aid to my face! Ahahaha! What a reliable vice-captain!"
"Good for you," Katsura said. Then, a moment of silence. Then, "Hey, Sakamoto. Since it's hard for us to communicate with each other, what do you say we make a promise of meeting here every year?"
"That sounds fun!" Sakamoto replied excitedly. He took a red pen out of his pocket and handed it to his friend. "Zura, write that on my palm so I won't forget it! Same time, same place!"
Katsura nodded and did as he was told, smiling widely.
"Ahahaha, did you cut yourself again, Zura?"
Katsura didn't reply. Sakamoto surprisingly did keep his promise to come (that note on his palm only lasted a day before he almost drowned somewhere and the water erased it), and while Katsura did, too, his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.
"Hmm?" noticing something was odd, Sakamoto stopped playing with his geta. "Did you not..." He started to ask something, but decided to let it slide. "I'll get you some band-aid."
"No need to," Katsura shook his head. "It's just a small cut."
"Hey, there's no such thing as a wound too small—" Sakamoto stopped. "Hey, I think I just experienced a déjà vu! Ahahaha!"
"That's some fancy word you know there," Katsura said.
"Mutsu likes mumbling weird words, sometimes I remember words that sound nice," he reasoned. "Let's cover this with a band—hmm?"
"Hmm, I'm trying to remember when you cut your finger and I put a bandage over it. I thought it was last year, or was it the year before that?" He looked up as if the answer was written on the sky. "Or when we were still at the war...? Or was it... the first time we met?"
Katsura looked down to his feet, a flush of pink splashed on his cheeks.
"Wait, you did cut your finger when we met last year, and the year before, and once when we were in the war, and the first time we met!" Sakamoto finally realized. "Ahahaha Zura, you're such a klutz—ow!" Katsura pinched him.
"I don't want to hear that from you." He took a deep breath. "And—and they weren't exactly all accidents."
"They weren't accidents?" the sunglassed man furrowed his eyebrows. "Did someone... do this to you?!"
"N-no!" Zura shook his head, quite intensely. "I... I did them on purpose"
There was a big question mark above Sakamoto's head. "On purpose? Zura, are you a maso—"
"No!" 'Maybe a little.'
"So then... why?"
The pink on his face had changed to crimson and started spreading all the way to his ears. "It's because your favorite color is red."
Sakamoto blinked his eyes. "...What?"
"Don't make me repeat myself! It's because your favorite color is red!"
"Because my favorite color is red, you cut your fingers on purpose...?"
By this point, Katsura was already facing the other way, not wanting Sakamoto to look at his face. "F-figure it out yourself."
"I..." Sakamoto furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not sure why, but your statement somehow makes my heart beats faster."
"Wha—" Katsura shrieked, torn between feeling shocked and delighted. "H-how can you say something so embarrassing so easily like that? Ah, I'm going back now!"
"Zura! Wait!" Sakamoto caught Katsura's hand. "Wait! I have something to tell you!"
Sakamoto took off his sunglasses, his eyes meeting directly and intensely with Katsura's. "I'm not sure how to say this but..."
"But what?" Katsura felt his heart beating faster. Sakamoto now gripped both of his hands, gulping down nervously.
"But what?" he repeated hopefully. Sakamoto passed his tongue over his lips and gulped down, again.
"Zura, my favorite color is blue."