They soak in the outdoor bath after that, Kagami on one end, Tadashi on the other, their legs in a tangle between them. The eggy scent of sulfur, distinct but not unpleasantly strong, steams upward in billows.

Tadashi is just starting to feel too warm when Kagami reaches out and takes his water-wrinkled hands in theirs.

"Show me," they murmur.

He tips his head back. "Kagami..."

"Come on. Don’t make me put you in a headlock."

"You wouldn’t." He levels his stern gaze on them. They smirk wide enough to show both canines.

Knowing he can’t win, he slumps forward. At the same time, he drops the illusion that makes him look so much like his mother. The rippling surface of the water, filled by an endless stream from the hot spring, distorts with flickers of the neon-blue marks that dot his arms and legs.

"There you go, babe, not so bad, is it?" Kagami soothes, half to themself. They turn his hands over so they can inspect the rows of suckers on the undersides of his fingers, their teasing forgotten for gentleness.

The wrinkles were just an illusion; his green skin is actually plump and glistening as they studies it. He watches in silence, aware of what they’re searching for but unwilling to address it first.

"You grabbed me pretty hard earlier. Didn't tear anything open, did you?" they ask.

"No," he sighs. "Nothing hurts."

They shoot him a doubtful glance, their naturally arched brows curving higher. "Okay tough guy. You just did so many shows in a row, you must have a few sliced spots still. I know how they get..."

Tadashi grits his teeth and resists the urge to pull back. It’s not fair for him to shut down, but it’s hard not to—if he wants to run, they’ll let him every time. And with such sympathetic eyes.

It’s those eyes that hold him in place.

He lets them lift his hand higher. His calluses, much like his wrinkled fingers, are just illusions. He’s built up some defenses, but not enough; he has to bite through more pain than any human would as he plucks at his shamisen. Not that he complains. Not that he loves it any less.

At first, it seems they’re just hunting for the almost-invisible cuts from his instrument’s strings. With his jellylike skin, they’re well hidden, especially since they are healing. Then Kagami plants a kiss, one by one, on each finger. Tadashi’s breath catches, and a rush of blue blooms in the middle of his chest.

They offer him a crooked smile. "Pain, pain, go away. You’ll heal faster now."

"They hardly hurt at all." Tadashi tries to mirror their softness from earlier. Whatever will make it clear he’s telling the truth.

"Good. But for safety’s sake, I do all the grabbing next time."

"Agreed."

He pulls his disguise back over himself like a comforting blanket and gazes at them with naked affection. They can grab him and pull him any which way they desire, anytime.

Kagami turns their face away, the first sign of embarrassment they’ve shown since the ferry ride. Maybe their courage had been bolstered by getting through check-in.

"Anyway," they say. "Let’s get out of here before you turn into chuka kurage."

"Considering how much my father goes on about predators, we must be more nutritionally dense than actual jellyfish," Tadashi says as he follows Kagami out of the bath.

"Mmm, and you taste better too!"

They stroll into the indoor bathroom and grab a towel, but he catches them in a hug before they finish wrapping themself up. He squeezes them while they complete the motion. Once the towel is in place, they raise a hand to stroke his arm.

"You taste better than anyone," he says. It feels important that they know it. He doesn’t care that they were joking.

"Babe." They laugh. "I know. But you don’t eat the same food every day."

"True."

They don’t speak again for a while, just return to the bedroom and move the beds together (Tadashi using his tentacles, not his injured hands, after Kagami eyes him). Both of them slip into the loungewear they packed and spread out on the combined bed, Tadashi reading, Kagami on their phone.

As they cool down from the hot bath, Kagami shifts closer until they slot into the crook of his arm. He’s not cold by any means, but he drops in temperature faster than they do. Testosterone makes them run hot.

This close, Kagami says it’s still hard to sense anything but his camouflage, but they admitted he feels a little spongier than he ought to. He doesn’t mind that so much. It means they roll over and lie on him more than they might if he had bones. Though he has a feeling they would anyway—they’re a very unreserved person.

When they say something, he blinks at the pages of his book, trying to piece together what it was. But he was too deep in the complex political and romantic dramas of elites from four hundred years ago to catch it.

"Come again?"

They tap him with the corner of their phone, which is very noticeable because the top of the chunky silicone case is covered in spikes like a comic book shout. It’s some designer they’re a fan of; they own paint-splattered clothes with a similar pattern.

"Wanna watch the broadcast later?" they repeat.

A low groan leaks out of his throat. He didn’t mean to make the sound, but hearing himself inspires him to make another. "Ugh."

"Yeah. But you know they’re going to call later, and the first thing Hime’s going to ask is whether you watched it."

Tadashi nods, putting aside his groans. It’s always discordant but amusing to hear Kagami call his father by her first name, without even a hint of an honorific. His mothers call her that at home, but he’s not sure anyone else in the whole world does.

They get away with a lot because they’re her first in-law and can lie with a complete deadpan. It’s a talent several of his mothers also possess, though not the one who carried him. Like her, he’s terrible at lying.

"It’s in an hour, then we’ve got dinner at seven. She’ll call around nine..." Kagami hums. "Guess that’s the rest of the day scheduled. Day one of vacation down."

After their travel to get here, Tadashi is tired just thinking about the next few hours. But he strokes the back of Kagami’s neck and doesn’t complain. Since they’ll be there, he’ll manage.

***

"I can’t believe the remote isn’t in there, where else could it be? Did you check the genkan?"

"The genkan?" Tadashi says incredulously. "You look there if you’re so certain. I will try the old fashioned way."

They’d put off getting out of bed, and now the broadcast is starting any minute. Unfortunately, the remote for the living room television was tucked away by some too-efficient cleaner. Neither of them can find it. Kagami goes through the shelves out in the hall while Tadashi feels behind the back of the TV for the power and channel buttons.

"Could just pull it up on my phone?" they call.

"No, no, I... Here. I’ve got it."

"Hi everyone! Are you having a nice day?"

And just in time, too. Tadashi steps back to see his father’s pink heart-shaped face pressed close to the camera. Her large black eyes, small nub that stands in for a nose, and smiling, sharp-toothed mouth fill up most of the screen. As she pulls back, the camera reveals that she’s more black than pink, but her joints, fingers, stomach, and toes blush the lighter shade, as do the long tendrils that frame her face and twist down her back. Two of them pop up like small antennae. Then there’s the rest of her, twisting black shadows with dots of glowing pink, spread out behind her. The forest of tentacles is so all-encompassing it makes Tadashi’s seven seem like a meager embarrassment.

Kagami, back from the genkan, pulls him to the couch without a word.

"Tell everyone hello, girls!" Kurage says, her delicate arms extending like she’s greeting the whole world.

Her colorful wives are the only things breaking up the jungle behind her. Each of them has a primary color that dyes their hair and clothing in similar shades, though most of their provocative outfits are a shiny black, like supernaturally smooth latex.

To her left, Morning Grace, in purple. She smiles and bows her head. To her right, Afternoon Julie, in green. She winks and gives a peace sign. Famous names, famous magical warriors before she came along, but even more so these days.

The other three weren’t household names before, but they’re recognizable now, thanks to their allyship with his father: Evening Ash, in yellow; Daybreak Faith, in red; Dusk Mary, in blue. Each of them greets the camera. Ash gives an enthusiastic wave of her muscular arm, Faith sullenly nods at the camera, and Mary raises and lowers her fingers like a graceful courtesan before giggling behind her hand.

Kurage’s collection of magical girls.

Though none of them are "girls" by any means. Their body shapes vary, but in their current costumes it’s hard to miss they are... adult women. His mother, especially, is known for her... mature figure. At least they’re not wearing their skimpiest costumes. They only wear those when they’re out with his father on... friendly visits.

"Um, what are we starting with again?" Kurage says, cocking her head while her antennae curl in questioning spirals.

"Energy distribution, sweetie," Afternoon Julie says from her side, smooth as dark-green velvet. Morning Grace nods and shapes her hands into a square that summons a see-through screen with glowing purple text. She draws her fingers apart, expanding it.

"Right, energy distribution! We’re developing new energy-y stuff, so we should have more of it soon, but for now everyone be nice and make sure not to use too much of it. Okay?" Kurage smiles cutely at the camera, blinking her pitch-black eyes slowly, like a content cat. "I already told all the girls in charge, but everyone will help if they work together!" Then she pauses and looks to her left and right. "Right...?"

"It’s mostly on the large corporations and heads of state to manage this sort of thing. We have ensured their agreement with your plans already," Grace says as she looks at the words in front of her, flying by too fast for anyone else to read. She seems to find them satisfactory, and her cold, pale face breaks into a tiny smile. "But individual contributions are still meaningful. We are each a part of your world, Mistress, and shall do our part at your behest. Ah!"

"Yup, don’t look," Kagami says, slapping a hand over Tadashi’s face. He rolls his eyes behind it, but his cheeks heat up at the sound of kissing the mics pick up.

At least his father doesn’t do more than kiss her wives on camera. She has some understanding of human modesty by now.

"Okay, energy stuff handled," Kurage says a moment later, and Kagami drops their hand. Morning Grace looks a little pink but otherwise composed. What a relief.

"Everyone should still has enough food and water, right?" Kurage continues. "Nobody’s fighting over resources?"

"We continue to provide for one another, so it was a very peaceful week, Mistress," Dusk Mary says. Her voice is soft but full of menace as she gives a dagger-thin smile. "I hardly had to punish anyone. Keep up the good work, everyone, unless you want that to change."

Kagami elbows Tadashi from the side. "She sounds so scary like this."

"Well, she relies on intimidation over actual force..."

Still, it’s true her tone is at odds with Tadashi’s warm memories of her. Despite using feminine words for herself, she’s always been unabashedly gender ambiguous, a rarity among magical girls and around his female-loving father. Her house across the street—she likes her space—was a haven for many of his childhood secrets. She was the first to know about his sexuality, and then about Kagami. Thanks to that, they’re close to her too.

There are a few more reports from the other women to get through, but the news sounds good on every front. Improved environmental reports, public transportation infrastructure, food production, and even birth rates... Well, it’s not really a surprise those are up, despite the population balance skewing away from men in recent years.

"What about where we’re visiting next week?" Kurage asks it with great earnestness, like she’s genuinely forgotten. She wraps one of her tentacles around Afternoon Julie's leg and turns to gaze up into her patient, smiling face.

Everyone knows Julie is her favorite.

"It’s Italy again next week, dear. Don’t you remember?" Julie cups Kurage’s pink cheeks in her black-gloved hands and brings their faces within inches of each other. "We’ll eat lots of tasty things, make new friends, and visit old ones."

"I remember now!" Kurage beams. "That’s where pizza comes from."

Julie’s bright green eyes crinkle with amusement. "Mm-hmm. So everyone should come out if they want to see you, shouldn’t they?"

Kurage nods several times, then seems to remember she’s on camera and snaps back to face it again—but she leaves several possessive tentacles looped around Julie.

"Please come out to see me when I visit, girls!" Kurage says, her pink-tinged fingers clasped in front of her chest. "Or if you want to be a girl, come out too. I can help! Everyone else... just stay inside as usual. I won’t bother you." She pauses, then rushes to add, "Boys are great, though! You don’t have to disappear or anything. I’ll look after all humans equally."

Tadashi presses a hand to his temple to suppress his irritation while Kagami snorts. His father used to be much more dismissive of men, but having a son changed her perspective... slowly. And not without a fight. But at least it happened.

"Boys who like other boys are especially good! I love them!" she says to the camera, which makes Tadashi cover his eyes himself this time.

"Dude!" Kagami bursts into hyena-like cackles before rolling into his side. "I’m so sorry," they says between gasps. "I’m so sorry."

"I’m going to kill myself," Tadashi groans, but he reneges immediately when Kagami starts slapping his arm. "I won’t! I don’t mean it! You know that!"

Tadashi is so mortified and Kagami so loud that he doesn’t hear the end of the broadcast. He assumes it was the usual: Kurage declaring how much she loves humans and Earth and her wives and her children. Better for him to miss it today, when he’s full-up on her bizarre brand of sincerity.

Maybe he should never watch one of these again, filial piety be damned. And stop taking her calls. Change his name. Move to a deserted island. Never be seen in public again.

"Man," Kagami wheezes, breathless from their fit. "Sorry. You okay?"

They lean over him, which is how he realizes he’s slid downward, as if trying to disappear into the couch. He shuts his eyes for several seconds. His whole face is on fire.

"I will survive. Somehow."

"Could be worse?"

"It could be." He sighs until his lungs are empty, breathes in, and fixes his posture. "She could hate me, rather than simply not understanding me at all."

Kagami’s steady fingers trace along his jaw until he turns toward them. Before he can speak, they swoop in and kiss him like they’re the River Lethe and might drown his painful memories if they try hard enough. He leans into it, drinking in the distraction, the pressure of their tongue, the way it slides against his with such familiarity.

"I don’t know if it’s quite that dire," Kagami says, their breath warm against his lips. "She has no idea how to handle shyness, though."

"You’re probably right. But..."

"Hey." They interrupt him with a soft kiss. "You don’t have to agree. Complain all you want. I’m always on your side."

Thank goodness for that. This time, Tadashi is the one to close the distance between them.

***

Tadashi makes good use of Kagami’s promise to hear him out. His frustration comes in waves as they dress in nice clothes for dinner—"She really expects us all to be just like her!"—as they walk to the restaurant on the first floor—"She hardly takes my feelings into account, even when it matters most!"—and after they’re seated in their private dining area—"If I miss any of her calls, no matter the reason, she cries to Mother like a child!"

Kagami, who’s been affirming him the whole time, gives another understanding nod. "She really is pretty childish for someone so powerful." They pause for a sip from the local sake they ordered. "Ooh, that’s nice. Want some?"

He accepts the offer. As he brings the ceramic cup to his mouth, he’s struck with a sudden impulse. The sake is cool, a little sweet, and very smooth as it passes his lips. He tips the cup up, then further back, until he’s drained all of it.

He taps the drained cup down on the table and slides it back toward them.

"Stealing all my sake! You’re feisty today."

"I am relaxing." He sniffs and pours them another cup from the decanter. "Let’s order more when the waiter returns."

"You’re gonna be drunk when Hime calls." Their honey-brown curve as they smile around the rim of the sake cup.

"So be it."

Picking up his chopsticks with great seriousness, he scoops a piece of the crab and miso appetizer into his mouth. The succulent strings of muscle dissolve on his tongue, and suddenly digging into the feast before them seems more important than voicing the rest of his complaints.

***

"Kagami... Please..."

"C’mon, babe, you’re the one with the key," Kagami breathes in his ear. "Can’t you manage it?"

"I-I am trying," Tadashi whispers, the words slipping and sliding in his mouth, much like the key he’s trying to slot into the lock. "Someone is being v-very inappropriate, so, I... Ah!"

He thumps his forehead onto the door and shudders. Kagami’s hand is under his sensible polo shirt, pawing at him, sliding high enough to find, well—

"Kagami! he hisses. They pluck at his nipple like it’s a violin string.

"You don’t even have these," they say into the nape of his neck. "You just make them for me to play with... Without even thinking about it... So slutty."

It’s a good thing the door is supporting Tadashi, because that just made his knees go weak. He grasps for a reply. It’s true that his somewhat-malleable body shapes itself to match his camouflage when under scrutiny, but there’s nothing lewd about that. He opens his mouth—

Repeating "I-inappropriate" is all he manages. Kagami’s hand feels too good.

The key, mercifully, finds its home and slides into the lock.

They get through the door somehow, kicking their shoes off in the genkan, remembering to close and lock the door at the last second. Their drunken momentum draws them into the living room, where they tumble onto one of the sofas. The light-brown leather chills the parts of Tadashi it can reach: his elbows, the back of his neck, his ankles. But Kagami is on top of him, kissing where they’ve unbuttoned the three buttons at the top of his shirt, so none of him stays cold for long.

"You did a good job earlier, but you need me to show you how it’s done, I know," they tell his collarbone, like they’re having a private conversation with the hickey that just formed there.

"I do, I need it." He shouldn’t be able to blush with all the warmth flowing through him already, but he’s feels his cheeks glow nonetheless. Kagami can say the dirtiest things with a straight face; he struggles to just agree.

The fog of sake threatens to drown him for a moment, and his head lolls to the side. Sometimes he wonders how they can find him...

"You’re so cute, so cute I wanna squish you," Kagami slurs. They sweep his glasses off with one hand and do actually squish his face with the other. Tadashi blinks blearily at the brown husbandlike shape above him. The glasses are not for show. He’s terribly nearsighted.

"Kagami, I can’t..."

"Just teasing. God! Biiiig baby." They squeeze his cheeks one more time before settling his glasses back on his nose, a little askew. "Back to normal, nerd."

"Be nice," Tadashi grumbles before he drags them down to kiss them again and again and again.

When they bully him, it reminds him so much of when they first met. His natural awkwardness that others mistook for icy calm, and their dogged push past it—hey nerd, let me copy your homework, hey nerd, why are you so tall anyway, hey nerd, why’re you looking at me like that, hey nerd, meet me in the stairwell to the roof if you’re not scared.

He had been a little scared, about what Kagami wanted from him and how they made him feel in the pit of his stomach. But he went anyway, and they kissed for the first time there, in that secluded and dusty path up to the roof, Kagami standing several steps above so he had to lean up. It seemed like they knew what they were doing, even then.

"Kagami," he moans, a little lightheaded.

"We should—"

Tadashi’s phone sings and rattles in his pocket, silencing both of them. They listen to one round of the urgent, high-pitched peep of a song. His father’s ringtone. Ignoring her tends to have consequences (for his poor mother, mostly), so he never turns his ringer off. Even though he knows when she’ll call. It’s always around on this day, every week, when the hour ticks over. They negotiated it when he moved out, though the call was daily back then. He’s eased her back over the last few years.

He tries to push Kagami off, but they clamp their muscular legs around his waist and dig their knees into the couch, a grin on their face. He didn’t really expect them to get off, so he gives up and answers the phone while on his back.

"G-good evening, Father," he says with what gravitas he can muster.

As usual, his father called with video, but Tadashi declines to share his own video feed with more decisiveness than usual. Her dark eyes light up when she sees he’s connected nevertheless. She wriggles close like she wishes she could climb through the camera.

"Mi-chan! My baby! I missed you!"

"Yes... I missed you too, of course," Tadashi says, trying to sound as sober and not-sat-upon as possible. Kagami mouths No you didn’t! until he punches their leg (softly).

"How is it at the ryokan? Did you eat lots? Is Kagi-chan happy? Did you see the broadcast today? Isn’t it nice everyone’s been so good? Do you want anything from Italy?"

"Hime, honey..." a warm voice calls from off screen. His father closes her mouth and glances to the side guiltily.

"Sorry, I got excited," she says. "Are you having a nice time?" she tries at a more staid pace.

"It’s fine, I mean, the questions are fine, but also I’m fine..." Tadashi blinks, trying to piece together everything his father asked through a haze. "We like it here. Kagi—Kagami is good. I don’t... need anything from Italy? Thank you."

He’s pretty sure that was all of the questions. Most of them?

"But you did see the broadcast, right?" Her face is eager.

Ah, right. "Yes. I’m glad that improvements continue."

"And I made sure to say—"

Suddenly, his birth mother’s voice: "H-Hime, I don’t think—"

But she too is cut off by the woman who sweetly chastised his father earlier. She appears from behind in a fitted cable-knit sweater, much more demure than her magical girl costume, but somehow just as suggestive. She hugs his father around the shoulders and nuzzles their cheeks together.

"Hi sweetie," Juri says. "Hime didn’t embarrass you too badly, did she? She just wanted you to know how much she loves you."

Though the warmth in her voice is genuine, he can’t help but sense the calculation underneath it. She’s always the one who keeps the family at peace, by hook or by crook. Her loyalty to them is undeniable, but her methods are underhanded at times. Nobody is better at getting their way with his father than her. There’s a reason his oldest sibling is Afternoon Julie’s child, even though Morning Grace allied herself with Kurage first.

"I know, of course..." he mumbles, unable to think of a better answer. He can’t complain to his father’s face. Especially not when he’s pretending he’s sober.

Juri is sharp enough to notice just from the sound of his voice. Her full lips curve into a knowing smile. "Is it a bad time, kiddo?"

"But I always call now!" His father sounds flabbergasted by the possibility she could bother him.

"I was slightly occupied," he admits. "We had a nice dinner and lost track of time. That... that’s all."

He was doing so well until he stumbled in the last sentence. His ears burn, but at least only Kagami can see that.

"If I may..." A polite voice asserts itself; the screen blurs. When the image settles, it’s Tadashi’s birth mother looking seriously into the camera.

"Kyoko!" his father whines, then there’s a rustling sound and she quiets—Juri soothing her again. Intimidating as she can be, it’s nice to have her on his side more often than not. She’s a good mother, but she never really feels quite like his mother. Not like the one who reflects so much of his human face back at him. They both give off a cold air, but he knows there’s plenty of warmth under the surface.

"Son," she says quietly. Her strong brows furrow just a hint over her dark eyes. "You’re well? And Kagami?"

"Both... both well yes. Excellent. We are."

"Excellent," she echoes. "Have a good evening."

In the time it takes her to nod and hang up, he hears his father yelp out "BYE-TADASHI-I-LOVE YOU!!!"

The line goes dead.