[He realizes this is risky. The Ken Amada of November would never have shown this kind of affection. He could be giving himself away! But he's not so worried; he may be from November in his lies, but he isn't the same Ken. He's the Ken who has the eight months he spent in Nonah, and this Ken's relationship with Minato was different. It was warmer, closer, nurtured in the relative peace they had from a world without the Dark Hour.
Besides, even if that weren't case, he wouldn't have passed this up. He closes his eyes too as they hold each other, wondering if he just listened hard enough he could hear the beat of his leader's -- such a precious, precious friend -- heart and catch the sound of his breath. The warmth of his body seeps through the thick winter uniform he's wearing, and Ken fights back the tears that sting his eyes. Even if he knew intuitively that they could be with each other in this world, the knowledge of Minao's death that followed him from Iwatodai makes his presence here all the more precious.
He'd accepted his death. Understood his sacrifice and vowed to carry on, treasure the gift of life he'd given. But aah, he missed him so much. He wanted to see him so, so much, and he never wants to lose him again. His fingers curl around the fabric of Minato's shirt and he refuses to let go, letting this moment sink in. At their feet, Koromaru quietly presses his body against their ankles, fluffy tail swishing gently in a show of his joy, too.]
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Besides, even if that weren't case, he wouldn't have passed this up. He closes his eyes too as they hold each other, wondering if he just listened hard enough he could hear the beat of his leader's -- such a precious, precious friend -- heart and catch the sound of his breath. The warmth of his body seeps through the thick winter uniform he's wearing, and Ken fights back the tears that sting his eyes. Even if he knew intuitively that they could be with each other in this world, the knowledge of Minao's death that followed him from Iwatodai makes his presence here all the more precious.
He'd accepted his death. Understood his sacrifice and vowed to carry on, treasure the gift of life he'd given. But aah, he missed him so much. He wanted to see him so, so much, and he never wants to lose him again. His fingers curl around the fabric of Minato's shirt and he refuses to let go, letting this moment sink in. At their feet, Koromaru quietly presses his body against their ankles, fluffy tail swishing gently in a show of his joy, too.]