AN: This is both a rarepair and just two mature dudes hanging out. Also, I need to start writing them with their canon personalities. Take their relationship in any way you want since the age gap is BRUTAL on my mind. But if they were in a relationship, I would not see them doing anything sexual together. Unless some of you FREAKS want me to. Ya, freaks-

“Katana. May I speak to you for a moment…?” Zenith walks up to Fuku, holding an umbrella under the rain in one hand and his sword in the other. Fuku holds a red Kasa over his head as well, holding the hilt of his katana in the other hand. He doesn’t expect anybody from Lost Temple to talk to him after the fallout between him and Lost Temple.

“Sword. I would never expect you to converse with me.”

“I don’t care if people say you’re a traitor because of a stupid cult in Lost. Trust me, I’m not related to that in any way.”

“I know.” Hofuku sits on a nearby bench, putting his haori under him to keep his rear dry from the rain and humidity it collected. Zenith sits next to him with a rather somber look. “I say, Sword. You’re usually so enthusiastic. What burdens is your mind throwing at you?”

“I’m just…a little upset.”

“Do you, perchance, mind if I ask about what?”

“I don’t…really feel good enough. For Harp-I mean, Rocket.”

“Now now. The battlefield is a place to use code names. Feel free to use real names  outside of it.” Zenith sighs, looking at the bleak sky above them, pouring with rain.

“Harper and I…I’m pretty sure he likes me.”

“Ah. You’ve noticed.”

“You knew?”

“I had a hunch. He makes it very obvious. Hiding feelings is more of a challenge then challenging your mind. I support it. You two are swell and are extremely close. How could you not see he likes you?” Zenith groans, sounding upset. “Why so blue?”

“That makes me feel worse…”

“Why? I would assume you like him too.”

“I do…but that’s the problem…”

“How is that?”

“We…got in a fight.”

“About what?”

“We lost like, 12 phights between Skate and Sling while practicing. And I…lost my temper. I said a few things I didn’t mean and Harper just…hopped back into Zuka’s truck.”

“...like what?”

Several hours before…

Zenith growled as he respawned for the 7th time. He could hear Harper on the other end yelping for his help while Skate and Sling ganged him. He fell back practically. “Sword!! Sword, please I need help!! They’re right on my tail!!”

“Shut…up.”

“What was ‘dat, Swords??” Harper looks at the ground for just a second before running into Zenith. Harper looks down, seeing him under him. He looked visibly upset. “My bad, dude! Did I hit your head?!”

“SHUT UP!! OH MY GOD, I’M ALREADY ANNOYED!!” Harper jumped back, shocked before it turns into anger.

“Angry for what!? We’re just having fun!!”

“Well, I’m not, and even when I try to, your constant yapping ruins it!”

“MY yapping?! You bark orders at everyone, so I don’t see what the difference is!!”

“The difference is at least you could try acting serious!!”

“We’re just practicing!!”

“Well, not for me. Maybe if you took things more seriously, you wouldn’t have 3 assists and 5 deaths.”

“Well, maybe if you loosened up, you wouldn’ have 1 kill 1 assist, and 7 deaths!”

“WELL MAYBE IF YOU WERE LESS DESTRUCTIVE AND STUPID, YOU’D HAVE ALL 4 OF YOUR LIMBS!!”

“WELL MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED BEING SUCH A JERK, YOU’D HAVE A PROPERLY FUNCTIONING BRAIN!!”

“Well, my brain functions enough to know that if you aimed up a few inches more, you’d be NOTHING without your prosthetics.” They all went silent. Especially Harper. Zenith instantly repents for what he said. “...Rocket-” With no warning, Harper punches him in the gut and makes Sling end the match. Harper un-queues himself and gets into his dad’s truck. Zenith jumps in with him, trying to apologize. Skate and Sling stay back to practice more. But even after getting to Crossroads, Harper didn’t say anything.

Now…

“I messed up so bad…”

“I see…”

“Do you know any way to get him to forgive me?”

“Forgiveness takes time, Zenith, my friend. You cannot rush emotions out of someone for your own satisfaction.”

“I’m not selfish! I just…don’t want him being angry at-”

“You.” Zenith pauses, looking at the ground. “Me and Fynn also had quite the falling out not too long ago. I apologized. But there will always be doubt of sincerity. But we are much older than you and your friend. We know much more about the world and its unfairness to certain individuals.”

“So…he’s gonna hate me forever?”

“Only if he chooses. It is his choice to forgive you or not.”

“Then…why are you so calm about it? Isn’t he like, your best friend.”

“He is a dear friend of mine, yes. But I know when he is in need of being left alone.”

“I would assume Harper…?”

“Would also need time. It will take a few before they come around. But in the meantime, you seem hungry after training. How about I take you to a ramen bar? I’m quite fond of it.” Zenith nods slowly and stands up from the bench. The rain calmed down a lot to a soft drizzle. They walk maybe a block in Crossroads before ending up in front of a small shop. Fuku ducks under the signs with symbols on them. Zenith follows, and the shop owners greet the two.

“Katana, m’boy! Where’s that blue friend of yours?”

“We had a bit of a disagreement. But this is my friend. He goes by Sword.”

“Sword and Katana…what a pair! Take a seat, you two!” The owner gives them a joyful smile, pulling his apron on. Zenith sits at a seat in the middle of the bar, Fuku sitting next to him. As Fuku ordered ramen for both of them, but after the man walked away to prepare it, Zenith turned away.

“I’m not really hungry, y’know.”

“Fear makes those who experience it lose appetite.”

“Yeah but--”

“I’d be grateful to lend you some of mine. Just a little to see how you like it.”

“No no. It’s fine, I swear.” Fuku looked down at Zenith with a serious expression behind his mask. Zenith stares into the holes of Fuku’s mask for a moment before sighing in defeat.

“Good. 2 bowls it is.” After a bit of small talk, their bowls arrive, both steaming from the heat. As Zenith is about to grab the chopsticks, Fuku stops him. “Patience, eager one. It has just come out of the pot.” Zenith nods, pouting as he has to wait to eat his ramen. But after talking to Fuku, he feels a bit better. He sighed as he looked down at the broth reflecting his face in the tasty brown liquid. “What are you pondering?”

“I’m just…I wonder if--”

“Do not tell me this is about anything that is remotely related to Harper.”

“Uh…y-yeah it is.”

“He will come around. There is no need to be so blue.” Zenith sighs, looking away from the bowl. Fuku has his mask pulled over his eyes with his slightly scarred mouth. He slurps the noodles into his mouth while Zenith watches as if teaching him how to eat the ramen. Zenith tries to grab the chopsticks just like Fuku, slurping the noodles up. Or at least trying to. He chuckles at his new friends’ attempt.

“Say, Katana. I wanna ask. Why are you so zen all the time? Unless, y’know, you’re in a phight.”

“I write.”

“. . .I’m honestly not surprised.”

“What? I seem like the writer type is what you’re saying?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever written before.”

“Nope. Lost Temple is a desert. If we wanted to write, it’ll take years to publish anything.”

“Who said I was publishing them? It’s something calming and soothing to do.”

“So…you just stow them away?”

“Of course not. Writing is an art. You look back at it over the years and use it to improve.”

“Ah. What type of writing do you do?”

“Poetry.”

“Yeesh. Isn’t that time consuming?”

“Only if you write it to impress. That is not the true way to write poetry. Poetry comes from the heart.” Fuku presses his hand against Zenith’s chest, then drags his hand to the top of his head. “Your emotions.” He drags his hands to Zenith’s holding one gently. “Your body.” Finally, he drags his hand to the temple of Zenith’s forehead, pressing the tips of two of his fingers against it. “Your mind.” Zenith’s face spreads with a small red blush as he looked Fuku where his eyes should be. He’s never been this physical with anybody except Harper. But they were fighting.

“Uhm…”

“...! Apologies. I tend to show what I mean through…contact.” Zenith nods, trying to change the subject.

“What…what do you write your poetry about?”

“What I explained. But mostly about the things I find are the most precious to me in any sort of way.”

“What is precious to you?”

“. . .”

“Is that too personal--”

“No of course not. I just had to think of something that wasn’t…embarassing. But I mostly write them for…Fynnigan.”

“...Hyperlaser?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever given him any of them?”

“I was planning to.” Fuku adjusts his chopsticks and grabs some of his ramen, slurping it up.

“Do you…have any extra paper?”

“Yes. Are you thinking of writing something for your friend?”

“Yeah.” Fuku nods, pulling a piece of paper from his satchel. It’s folded up, but blank on the inside. Inside, there is also a pen. Zenith takes a breath in and back out. He grabs the pencil and tries to think of something to write. He sighed as he couldn’t think of anything to write.

“Zenith. Poetry is not meant to be rushed. Take your time on this.” Zenith calms himself, tapping his foot. He closes his eyes to think…Harper. Just seeing Harper’s face. Seeing him look so sad. Seeing him pout from his unmeaning words. The words he thought it would be okay to say. What other way to apologize for such? There is no way. Only time will tell for forgiveness. It takes more time for the acceptance of an apology than feeling like nothing for the rest of your life, because your words stick forever. “You’re already a natural.”

“H-Huh?! But I haven’t even-...Huh?” The words Zenith was thinking were on the page in a neat handwriting. Fuku chuckled at his surprise.

“Katana.” Fuku jumps at the brooding voice before turning around with Zenith. But as soon as Zenith turned around, he turned right back to the counter, sweating.

“Hyperlaser. Rocket. Good to see you both. How are you both doing?”

“I’m doing fine. I have calmed myself from before.” Harper looks away with a sour attitude. “Rocket, please. I’m sure they are just as sorry.”

“I have EVERY RIGHT to be upset.” Fuku nudges his shoulder gently, looking at the folded paper. Zenith blushes softly, handing it over to Harper.

“I uhm…made this for you.” Zenith smiles gently at Harper’s scowl. He looked at the paper, then at Zenith before rudely swiping it, crumpling it a bit before opening it. He reads the words on the page.

Harper.
Just seeing Harper’s face.

Seeing him look so sad.
Seeing him pout from his unmeaning words.

The words he thought it would be okay to say.

What other way to apologize for such?
There is no way. Only time will tell for forgiveness.
It takes more time for the acceptance of an apology
than feeling like nothing for the rest of your life;
because your words stick forever.

An apology may stay unnaccepted or be accepted out of pity.
Neither from Harper for various reasons
Is expected, nor forced, in order
To heal poor Harper’s heart.

Only time
Will tell
For acceptance.

Because acceptance is earned, not forced.
And even so, he hopes Harper forgives him.

“. . .Did you write this?”

“Yeah…I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted you to know how I-” His speech is halted by a tight hug from Harper. He had angry tears running down his reddened cheeks. Zenith hugged back softly. Until he felt Harper practically squeezing his breath out.

“Mmmmghghnmhhghhggggggrrhgh….”

“Harp-Harper you’re squishing me-”

“Gooddd grgrrhhghhhgghhh…”

“Harper please-” The two older men chuckle together. Fynn realizes he’s laughing with Fuku before turning his head. Until Fuku gently places a flower in his hand, folded onto it is a poem. (Don’t feel like poeming again.) Fynn hesitates before reading it. When he’s done, he sighs, hugging Fuku gently. Fuku hugs back.

“Wanna…have some ramen?”

“I’d like that. And thanks for the poem.”

“HarppPEEeerrr….”

“Ghhhrrrmmmmghhghgghh…”

Holy crap word count:2140 help-))