Suou Katsuya

"--so then we circled back up that curly avenue where all those department stores are, and there wasn't much left but I grabbed what I could for coats and makeshift blankets we could make out of whatever else.It's not food, I know. But...Katsuya?"

A reverberating THUNK jars Katsuya Suou out of his listless staring when the box Josh came in lugging is set onto the wooden counter. The officer's hand trails across the scratched surface before lifting to inspect the supplies. Until this winter it had been immaculate and polished but everything has changed with this season. His concerned gaze shifts toward the young man catching his breath next to him. Thinking about things at a time like this only makes the officer berate himself further into a numb haze. Josh has to be as tired as the rest of them are and yet he's looking back at Katsuya with just as much worry.

"You gotta sleep, Bossman. Let that Pokemon Trainer take shift on the pipes for a few hours. Have Captain Whatshisface with the expeditions set up a watch on the shop. You're no use t'anyone if you collapse."

Katsuya wants to argue. His entire posture stiffens with the kneejerk response to insist he's fine. Everyone else is still working and that means he has to do just as much. But all he manages is a startled cough as his chest seizes in a very unnatural pain. It's difficult to breathe properly. How long has it been since he's had to rely so heavily on Helios or his magic? His hand falls back to the counter to steady himself until the coughing fit passes and breath comes a bit less hard won again. There's a cold sweat on his brow, face ashen from his exertion.

"Don't make me call Captain America over to put your ass to bed, Bossman. Please." Josh looks out across the glass from what was once an open-air kitchen and joined dining area to what has since become their supply packing area and daytime mingling area. Even this gets used for sleep when there's less expeditions due to a particularly nasty turn in the storm. People of all species, talents, and creeds mingle about fixing their gear. Muttering quietly between themselves about shadows in the cold or perhaps for distraction talking about recipes from their homes they'd love to try again.

When this is over.

If this ends.

Katsuya follows Josh's gaze and slowly draws himself upright. The Crossroads has become one of the last ports in this storm. Food runs scarce but they have a cozy shelter. Clean water. A place to organize and cling to their hope. He doesn't push Joshua's hand off of his arm as the other leads him upstairs quietly to a small nest of sleeping bags tucked away in the 3rd floor office where they can lock the doors and give their leaders a well earned rest now and again. The sleeping bags shift, trilling slightly before Tomoe sticks her little pink nose out of the pile to sniff before hurrying over to headbutt her foolish master in the back of the knee until he takes the hint to go and rest. Look, the kneazle has everything nice and warm for him already.

"Just...just a few hours. I mean it. We can't run those poor Pokemon ragged, either."

"Sure, Bossman. Whatever you say." The door clicks softly when Josh leaves. He's not going to wake Katsuya up unless there's an emergency. It's thanks to the officer's hard work that they have this safe place of relative comfort at all. Everyone needs to rest now and again.

It all started with a simple gesture of kindness.

Tatsuya's birthday, the first event for the Suou family after the passing of their mother. Katsuya'd stayed up most of the night reading through his mother's recipe books and old magazines. Taken an extra train to visit the grocery store on his way home from school before working feverishly throughout the afternoon.

The cake was a little bit over mixed, the frosting a tad too sweet but Tatsuya's face had lit up the room when he proclaimed that he loved the cake before stuffing more of it into his chubby cheeks.

That was the day Katsuya decided he'd become the world's best baker, if only to make his little brother smile like that more often. Smiles that were so rare now without their mother. With their father always away with a case. He practiced for every special event. Every holiday. Each time Tatsuya laughed it strengthened Katsuya's resolve. And what's more, he found he loved to bake.

So he baked.

And he decorated.

And then baked some more.

"I don't want any."

Tatsuya's face twisted into a scowl, pushing the plate away. Katsuya made sweets again. He always made sweets. If there was a school event Katsuya baked. If there was a holiday, Katsuya baked. If it was a bad day his big brother baked and Tatsuya could take no more of it. He wrinkled his little nose and pushed himself away from the table.

"But it's your favorite." Katsuya didn't understand. Had he done something wrong? Everything tasted the same as it usually did he thought.

"It was. I'm gonna go play outside till supper."

The elder Suou stared down at the untouched piece of sponge cake on the table for several minutes after his brother had run off out the door. Maybe he had gone too far. With a sigh he pulled the chair back out and sat down at his brother's seat and began eating the piece of cake.

Now how was he supposed to make his brother happy?

There's a set of vending machines, not too far from the Police Department. It's something the officer usually complains about, corrupting the youth and other some such moral outrages. It's his first stop tonight, to buy a pack of cigarettes-- a Chinese brand he'd grown used to in the company of old friends.

He doesn't have a lighter, but really. He's the last man on the planet that needs help getting a fire going. He tucks the rest of the pack into his suit jacket and starts wandering. Anywhere except home and his empty apartment.

Tonight...tonight Katsuya thinks he deserves a drink.

A day planner laid out on Katsuya's kitchen counter has a big red circle over the date.

October first.

The officer wipes his glasses clean with a cloth and removes the apron he'd been wearing until moments ago. Changes back into his suit and tie and resolves that his kitchen will just have to be cleaned when he gets home.

He has gifts for a very special someone to go deliver. He scoops up the cake box and his keys and leaves his apartment for the Nexus. A certain magi's tower in the Nexus, to be exact. He does have the courtesy to text her to let her know he's on his way.

Still feels weird to announce 'I'm here to see Miss Verity Willis' to a wall of solid crystal though. Would it still open if he spoke in Japanese? Experiments for another time.

"Verity?"

True to his word, Katsuya makes his way to the more quiet ends of the Nexus once he has a semblance of a plan in place for constructing a memorial for the casualties of the demon invasion that stemmed from his home.

He takes a seat near the newly made door to his world, trying hard not to overthink what is about to transpire.

Nothing more comforting than routine.

A mug of black coffee, the daily paper, and a desk full of paperwork awaiting. Katsuya pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he pulled his car to a stop at an intersection near the station. Headaches, so frequent these days pounded against his head, an insufferable onslaught of pressure and pain. He had forgotten something. Something important, he was certain. But no, his thermos was situated next to his briefcase and he had locked up on the way out.

What could it be? What had he forgotten?

It was a puzzle the officer pondered as he opened the door to the police station....and ended up somewhere else entirely.

Suou Katsuya had forgotten The Nexus.