ⁱˡᵒᵐⁱˡᵒ

ⁱ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷ

A/N: alrighty, I'm back. It always feels weird coming back after so long. Anyway, here's a 5k long filler chapter. It's completely all over the place but it's important to the plot, I swear. Keigo and Katsuki centric.

Paperwork is such a pain in the ass.

Keigo wouldn't be so annoyed by it if it hadn't been the exact same legal documents he'd sent out to be reviewed by his legal team at least three times within the last month. He doesn't understand why he even hires lawyers if he's constantly having to go back and do their jobs for them but Enji claims that Keigo is a perfectionist and even if they weren't doing a shit job, he'd still have gone behind them to double check. Keigo thinks that the term perfectionist is laying it on pretty thick. To say that he was simply a concerned patron would be more accurate. 

Especially with the amount of money that he's paying these assholes. 

And Keigo would much rather be spending his day off doing quite literally anything else. 

He remembers how much easier it was in his younger years, back when he didn't have to be concerned about shit like contracts and campaigns when Ricky was there to take on the responsibility for him.

He'd been about five or six years old when he'd gotten his very first gig---a commercial for one of the very first McDonald's to be opened in Sydney back in the 70's. The cameras were cool, sure, but he was more excited about being able to afford a hot meal and a place to sleep for the night. He'd never have to snatch purses or shoplift again. Never have to sleep beneath another park bench. 

Never have to live in poverty again. 

He owes Ricky his life for that, and for the longest time he'd made up his mind that he'd dedicate his life to the industry. He thought it was his calling. His purpose. 

Until he'd met Enji, that is.

He'd imagined it to be a chance encounter at first---a rare stroke of luck---but with time, he'd known better. Nothing but fate could have brought them together that day. Fate knew that Keigo needed Enji. Fate knew that Enji needed him, too. 

They had been filming a scene for some cliche action film there in Hokkaido that Keigo could barely remember the name of after all these years; all he remembers is that the wire harness he was wearing had given out on him and he'd taken quite a tumble down from the rig and hit his head. 

He remembers quite vividly that Enji's calm and concentrated expression was the first thing he'd seen upon regaining consciousness. 

"Jesus Christ, am I dead?" Is the very first thing he'd said to him, watching as the redhead's expression had morphed into mild concern and confusion. "Pardon?" He replied and Keigo could feel his breath catch in his throat upon hearing his voice for the very first time. 

"Holy shit, you're an absolute angel."

Enji had turned bright up to the tips of his ears, face-palming with an annoyed sigh. "Idiot. Your vital signs are fine so no, you're not going to die, unfortunately. You do, however, have a mild concussion so do yourself a favor and sit down for a week or two to recover. That means no filming." 

"Sure, whatever you say, angel. But can I get your name or---" 

"And why on Earth would I tell you that?"