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Why don’t you just try one of the apps?
Those nine words are the biggest mistake of Ikuya’s life.After their dramatic turn at Worlds in Fukuoka, when things have settled and Haru is recovering in Iwatobi, Ikuya starts meeting up with Asahi after practice. They grab takeout and head back to Asahi’s to do…nothing. They eat, talk about stupid, pointless shit, and do a whole lot of nothing. Doing a whole lot of nothing at either Ikuya or Asahi’s apartment - often several times a week - becomes a tradition. They never acknowledge it as one, but they both know.“Your place or mine?”“Let’s flip on it,” Asahi suggests. He digs around in his pocket, where he apparently keeps loose change, and pulls a coin out. “Heads, mine. Tails, yours.”“Fifty-fifty? I like those odds.”Ikuya loves it. He loves their pointless, stupid tradition, and he loves doing a whole lot of nothing.Heads it is, and they end up at Asahi’s with too much curry rice.“Okay, here’s a question,” Asahi begins - he always has a hypothetical lined up, each weirder than the last. “Hypothetically, If you were a mermaid, what color would your tail be?”“You’re not asking me because of the whole Little Mermaid thing, right?” Ikuya frowns.“No! I mean, maybe. But you still have to answer!”“Fine,” Ikuya relents without any real convincing. “If I was a mermaid, my tail would be - ”“Wait, let me guess!” Asahi interrupts, making the whole question bit null and void. “No, I don’t need to guess. Purple, right?”“I hate you.”“You’d choose purple, though, right?”“Again, I hate you.”“Nah,” Asahi pushes back with a triumphant grin. “You love me.”Oh, and he loves Asahi.He doesn’t know when it happened. Maybe it was at first sight as college students. Maybe it was when Asahi encouraged his baking instead of deriding it. Maybe it was after Sydney, at their training camp. Or maybe, just maybe, it was in middle school. At first, he rejected the idea - they were kids. But he can’t discount the intensity of their strange friendship, or how Asahi was the first and only person to make him laugh, or how devastated he was when he disappeared over spring break. When he looks at it from that angle, the possibility ceases to sound so ridiculous.In the end, it doesn’t matter when it happened. All that matters is that it happened, period.There’s no way he’ll ever tell him. Years of people he loves leaving him - sometimes over and over - have made Ikuya so terrified of rejection he’d sooner say nothing than risk being left again. What he and Asahi have is good. Besides, neither of them have been on the dating scene since they reconciled, so it’s not like it’s a pressing issue. Why would he gamble something dear to him on the off chance his feelings were mutual? This way, he doesn’t have to end up in the far more likely scenario of being heartbroken and humiliated with a lost, irreparable friendship in the rearview.“I guess you’re alright, baka Asahi.”He doesn’t want to be left anymore.One year after Fukuoka, they’re at Asahi’s, slurping up ramen and talking about nothing. Or rather, that’s what they were doing up until Asahi decided to make their conversation about something. Something Ikuya can confidently say is his least favorite subject.“I hate making small talk.”“No, duh,” Asahi replies sarcastically. “I think you’d do literally anything to avoid it.”“Like that exchange student,” Ikuya points out. “He’s the fucking king of small talk-ville.”“Ikuya.” Asahi stares at him like he’s the dumbest person on earth - rich, coming from him. “That exchange student is constantly hitting on you.”“What? No,” Ikuya immediately rejects the notion. “He asked if I’d been to the aquarium. I have. Then it’s ‘Oh, do you like yakiniku?’ Like…obviously? Who doesn’t?”“Alright, clueless,” Asahi gives up with an exasperated sigh. “Hypothetically, though - if he was hitting on you, and he asked you out…would you?”What is this? He doesn’t want to talk about this. This is not the kind of hypothetical he’s used to, and certainly not one he signed up for. There’s no reason to talk about this, not when there’s so much nothing to talk about.“No? I don’t have the time or energy,” he replies in an attempt to end things there.The ‘and I’m hung up on you’ goes unsaid.Asahi pokes at his noodles. “So there’s no one?”“No.”Coward.“No one. Got it.”A strange silence settles over them then. Ikuya doesn’t know how to sit in silence with Asahi. Asahi is never silent. He’s always the one to pick up the slack when Ikuya goes quiet, which is how it normally goes. And this silence is so…full. In his anxious desire to break it and return to nothing, he asks a question he doesn’t want an answer to and is decidedly not nothing.“What about you?”“Me?”“You.”There’s another silence as Asahi considers the question - like, really considers, apparently, if his furrowed brow is any indication. Ikuya doesn’t let the silence get his hopes up. He’d abandoned those almost as soon as he realized how he felt.“No,” he finally answers. The relief that begins flooding Ikuya hits a dam when he follows up with, “But man, I wish there was. Being single is starting to be kind of a bummer.”His heart drops so fast and so low he can’t be sure it doesn’t leave his body entirely. For some dumbass reason, part of him really thought Asahi just wouldn’t date. Like he would somehow be completely fine continuing to do takeout and talk about nothing. Like that would be enough. Like it is for Ikuya.“I mean, isn’t it getting old for you?” Yes, he wants to say. It’s getting super fucking old.“I’m fine,” he says instead. “I have friends.”Asahi’s shoulders sag. “Must be nice.”Does being single bother him that much? Ikuya wonders if he’s holding him back, if hanging out all the time is taking up space where Asahi could be getting out there. Worse, what if he eventually resents Ikuya for taking up that space? Ikuya can’t have that. Resentment leads to disaster - he learned that the hard way with Hiyori.“Why don’t you just try one of the apps?” he asks, and it tastes all kinds of wrong on its way out. “If it’s really bugging you.”Asahi is as easy to read as a picture book. He’s one of the most expressive, open-book kind of guys you’ll ever meet. Which is why the look he gives Ikuya in response to his suggestion is so disconcerting - he can’t read it at all. “You think so?”“Sure,” Ikuya lies through his fucking teeth. “Can’t hurt.”Except it can hurt.“I guess. Yeah, okay.” He taps the screen of his phone a few times, then holds it up for Ikuya to see. “There it is.”There it is. There’s Ikuya friend zoning himself into oblivion. But Asahi wants to date, and who is he to get in his way? Like this, there’s no chance of losing him. No chance of being left. Even though it makes him sick, he likes those odds. They’re a hell of a lot higher than the alternative.“Want to help me make my profile?” he asks. “You’re better with words.”“Doesn’t your future husband deserve to know how dumb you are?”“Disrespectful!” he cries. “Come on, help me sound cool.”Cyanide pills sound like more fun, but he’s made his bed on this one.“Alright, baka Asahi. Hope you’ve got all night.”That was the beginning of the end.At first, there’s nothing. No dates, no contact that goes beyond the digital sphere. Asahi shows him the worst ones, the ones so cringeworthy they elicit secondhand embarrassment. That phase is fun. If anything, they have even more nothing to talk about, since all of Asahi’s matches are big nothing burgers.“Check this out.” Asahi hands his phone to Ikuya. “This is literally all I get. Oh, and multi-level marketing proposals.”“‘You look like the kind of guy who could take good care of an ant farm,’” Ikuya reads out loud. “‘Mine keep dying. If you have any tips, please let me know.’ To be fair, you do look like an ant farm aficionado.”“Let’s buy an ant farm together. Here’s a question: hypothetically, if we owned an ant farm, would you still want kids?”“Still? When did I ever say I wanted them in the first place?”“True,” Asahi sighs. “No ant farm or kids for us.”Then there’s a date. The first date. Asahi has to cut their nothing time short to meet someone who finally bypassed cringe city. How Ikuya finds it in him to wish him luck, he’ll never know. Asahi leaves him sick to his stomach and imagining him hitting it off with his faceless, nameless date.They do not hit it off. At all. Their next hangout sees Asahi bitching and moaning about how awkward and weird the night was.“I mean, it was better than the ant farm,” he allows, “but the whole coin-collecting thing…if he had talked about anything else, I might have given him a pass.”“Almost as bad as carrying around piles of loose change in your pockets.”“Rude. Lucky I’ve got you to come home to, huh?” Asahi jokes. He gives Ikuya’s knee a squeeze. “Please, tell me to give up before I meet any more weirdos.”“Oh, please,” Ikuya needles him. “Since when are you a quitter?”What the actual fuck is wrong with him? Why is he encouraging this?“Yeah.” Asahi’s hand slides off his knee. “Too fucking true.”After that night, there are more dates. They’re all duds, according to Asahi. They continue to hang out and talk about nothing, with the added entertainment of Asahi’s persistent complaints about all the cringeworthy, boring, strange, clingy, and sometimes even creepy people he meets. Everything’s fine. Ikuya is lulled into a false sense of security - if there’s nothing to worry about after a month and a half, he’s probably safe.It happens slowly - so slowly, Ikuya doesn’t notice until he’s smack-dab in the middle of it. Asahi’s dates eat into more and more of their hangout time. Texts apologizing for lateness start pouring in, which soon become cancellations. The cancellations go from once a week to three, then weekends are added to the mix. Soon they’re seeing each other once, twice a week at most.Ikuya refuses to complain. Asahi’s stories have gone from bitching and moaning to considering if someone is worth a second date. To Ikuya’s horror, quite a few one-offs often become second or third dates. They don’t seem to go past three, which is something. Ikuya knows he’s grasping at straws, but straws and talk of nothing is better than…nothing.“He was so normal,” Asahi tells him the night after another cancellation. “Not bad normal. Like, just a nice, normal guy. Think it’s worth a second shot? Hypothetically.”No. Not worth a second shot. Please don’t give him a second shot.He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “First, that’s not a hypothetical. Second - I mean, if that’s what you want,” he says noncommittally, like the fucking self-sabotaging enabler he is, “then go for it.”“Man, what I want…” Asahi trails off. “If only. Hey - hypothetically, if you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?”“I’d want what I have now,” Ikuya tells him honestly. “Everything’s good.”A few times, he seriously thinks about coming out and confessing his feelings, but never does - he can see Asahi getting more serious, more invested in the process, like he really thinks he’s on his way to finding his person. And if he’s on his way, then it’s not Ikuya, because Ikuya is right there in front of him. So he retreats, knowing for sure his risk-averse mentality is the right one. But god, it fucking hurts.Finally, someone makes it past three dates.“A fourth?” he asks, trying and failing to ignore his stomach twisting and tying itself into knots. “That’s new.”“Wild, right? He’s pretty great,” Asahi tells him. “What do you think?”“Uh…what do I think of him?” Ikuya thinks he’s the fucking worst. No need to meet him - he’s awful. On principle. “Couldn’t tell you.”
“No, like - should I go? On a fourth date?”No, he shouldn’t. Not a fucking chance.“Sure,” is his traitorous response. “If you like him.”“I do,” Asahi assures him far too quickly. “Yeah, no. I definitely do. Okay, so you think I should? That’s - okay.”He then proceeds to whip out his phone and text lucky number four right in front of him. Ikuya is forced to watch as the clearly not love of his life types away the chance he never had.There’s nothing hypothetical about it.Four dates become five, five dates become six, and soon Ikuya stops counting. He rarely - if ever - sees Asahi anymore, and when he does, he’s treated to endless rhapsodizing about number four, who is now no number at all. Number four is Asahi’s boyfriend, and Ikuya simply has to accept it.“And he’s traveled everywhere. I wonder if you were in America around the same time.”“Anything’s possible.”“It’s just awesome,” Asahi tells him with a sweet smile meant for someone else. “Like yeah, he’s smarter than me, but we have a million things in common. No, actually, the best part? He doesn’t mind my snoring. I’d dump me if I had to sleep next to that.”What a great way to confirm they’re sleeping together. Fucking, spooning, whatever. Basically, everything Ikuya already knew but would rather die than think about. How fun, having it spoon-fed to him.“That is a miracle, baka Asahi,” he fires back with ill-hidden bitterness. “I’d have kicked you out weeks ago.”Asahi’s lips twist in an unfamiliar display of…something. Something Ikuya can’t identify.“Thank god for him, then.”Are there tears? God, they’re nonstop. Instead of sleeping, he kicks himself for encouraging Asahi to download the stupid fucking app. He kicks himself harder for helping him make his profile. Deep down, though, he knows it would have only delayed the inevitable. Asahi was always going to meet his person, and it was never going to be Ikuya.Three months after fateful date number four, Ikuya finally meets Asahi’s boyfriend.He brings him to dinner with all their friends, which is a hell of a choice. They’re not exactly a normal, calm bunch. Ikuya would feel bad for him if his heart wasn’t in pieces, scattered across the restaurant floor.His name is Aito. He’s an astronomy major at a university on the other side of town from Shimogami and Hidaka, where he’s on a full scholarship. And because being a genius isn’t enough, he’s also incredibly attractive. Pretty, even. That’s how Ikuya would describe him. Really pretty. Nice, too. He’s outgoing and matches Asahi in energy and enthusiasm. At the same time, he seems to be able to reign in Asahi’s most absurd impulses - he’s more mature around Aito, more what an adult version of him would be.They’re fucking perfect for each other.The group takes to him immediately. They’re thrilled for Asahi, and to have Aito as the newest member of their strange patchwork family.“Ikuya!” Asahi hails him over. “This is my best friend,” he tells Aito. “You know, Ikuya.”Aito doesn’t bat an eye. “Ikuya!” he exclaims. “God, I’ve heard so much about you. The way Asahi talks, you’d think you walk on water. It’s so nice to meet you.”This is his nightmare - and the most nightmarish part? There’s not even a hint of jealousy, no passive aggression in the way Aito addresses him. Only the joy and confidence of someone completely secure in their relationship.“You too. All I hear are great things,” Ikuya offers like a damn saint.“Aw, really?” he gives Asahi a side squeeze. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Then he returns his attention to Ikuya. “Thank you so much for letting me be a part of all this.”“No problem.”Ikuya does his best. Truly, he does. Asahi is so happy, and Ikuya should be happy for him. It was never going to be him, so he shouldn’t be holding onto this soul-deep resentment and grief. He successfully escaped rejection, and Asahi is still his best friend. A best friend he rarely sees anymore, but Asahi introduced him that way, so it must be true, right? Yet another reason he was right to stay silent. All he’s lost is his own dream, one he knew was pointless from the beginning. So really, it’s a net positive.“He’s great,” he tells Asahi after they break away from Aito at the train station. “I’m happy for you.”“Yeah? You think I should keep him around?”Why does Asahi always check in with him? Does he presume Ikuya’s going to tell him how he actually feels? Ikuya is a lot of things, but someone who dismantles their best friend’s happiness isn’t one of them.“Be more confident in your choices, baka Asahi,” he tells him. “You’re the one who has to live with them. If you’re happy, then go be happy.”When Asahi hesitates to answer, Ikuya allows himself one single second to imagine a confession, a declaration that he’s always been the one.Of course, that’s not what happens.“I am happy,” Asahi says with a wide, sunny smile. “Guess I should keep him around.” He ruffles Ikuya’s hair. “Thanks, best friend.”Shit, that hurts.“Anytime.”Slowly but surely, Ikuya learns to live with it. He learns to live with Aito as the newest fixture in their friend group, learns to live with sometimes hearing about group plans through Aito, and learns to shut down every part of himself that isn’t one hundred percent risk-averse.Learning to live without Asahi is harder. He hardly ever sees him anymore, and when he does, it’s never without Aito. Why Asahi still thinks they’re best friends is beyond him - he has no clue what’s going on in his life most of the time, and vice versa. The days of talking about nothing have become days, weeks, sometimes a month of nothing. Real nothing. They text, but without any real face-to-face, there’s not much to text about.Asahi acts like nothing’s wrong when they’re at group functions and talks to him as if nothing’s changed.“Ikuya!” comes his familiar, one-word greeting. “Did you get taller?” He ruffles Ikuya’s hair and doesn’t seem to notice how he flinches at the touch.“Might have a few inches left in me,” Ikuya manages to push out. “That didn’t sound right.”Asahi throws his head back and laughs. “Maybe I should be making you a profile, huh? You’re getting rusty in your old age.”“You’re almost a year older than me.”“Or, wait for it - you’re only as old as you feel.”“Then I’m about a hundred,” Ikuya says, already wholly exhausted and over it.To avoid what’s essentially become small talk with someone who knows he hates it, he starts gravitating toward his other friends when they’re together. Rin and Haru have become especially good company. Rin is always a fantastic distraction, and Haru has a calming way about him that eases Ikuya’s inner turmoil. But Asahi is always at the other end of the table or the other side of the room with Aito, like a stranger who hasn’t realized they’re strangers.“They’re sure fucking attached at the hip,” Rin comments at Kisumi’s birthday party. “Definition of a ‘we’ couple.”Okay, so maybe he’s not always a great distraction.“Can’t be easy to improve your times with a person-sized appendage,” Ikuya replies sardonically.“Oof, catty. I like it,” Rin grins. “You guys want another drink?”“Sure,” they respond in unison. Looks like he and Haru are on the same creepy wavelength they sometimes fall into tonight.“How are you?” Haru asks once Rin’s gone.“Me? I’m fine.” He doesn’t sound fine, even to himself.Haru fixes him with a searching gaze. “If you ever need to talk - I know I’m not the greatest, but I’m here.”Unacceptable public tears well in his eyes, and after a distracted but sincere “Thank you,” he runs to the bathroom to get a hold of himself.As always, the tears can wait until the second he enters his apartment.Eventually, anger starts to color his view of his once-best friend. Whenever he doesn’t indulge Asahi’s idea of whatever their relationship is now, he feels fucking guilty, and for what? While he can’t blame Asahi for falling in love with someone who isn’t him, he sure as hell can blame him for discarding their friendship over it, and then acting like they’re all good. But he’s grown up now, and his anger is no longer wrenched from him in pained screams. He also refuses to backslide into the deep, lonely anger he was drowning in when he moved to Tokyo. So he keeps it friendly - not overly so, but friendly - and brief.Baka Asahi is no longer part of his vocabulary.Thing is, anger is just a band-aid - an easy numbing agent for his grief. He’d encouraged this so he wouldn’t lose him, and he lost him anyway. He’s lost Asahi over and over and over and over, and it just won’t stop.Over the next year, the only time they see each other without Aito is at competitions. Asahi is always so happy to see him, like their friendship hasn’t dwindled to less than nothing. Despite his anger, Ikuya still tries to respond in kind. Really, he does. He’s an adult.But if he engages too much, he’ll get emotional, and when he gets too emotional, his swimming suffers. So he keeps an extremely safe distance, watching as the gulf between them grows wider.During that time, Hiyori and Kinjou - sorry, Kaede - finally start dating. Thank god, because the whole antagonistic, ‘seconds away from fucking’ thing was getting really old. He’s happy for him. Sure, he becomes less available, but it’s not the same as with Asahi. He doesn’t feel like he’s stopped knowing Hiyori. There’s still enough trust to keep him as his emergency contact.But god, he’s lonely.He’s so goddamn lonely.Qualifying for Worlds becomes a foregone conclusion - not only for Ikuya, but the whole group. First is Qatar, then Singapore, then Hungary, and beyond. Ikuya secures gold in individual events six times, putting him squarely in the same league as Rin and Haru. Endorsement deals come rolling in, and he starts making real money.Medley relays are a thing of the past, as are individual medleys. Occasionally he’ll participate in a freestyle relay, but even that’s rare. They’re simply not his focus - he doesn’t get paid to do relays. He also might avoid them because Asahi is in so many of them - his love for relays and making the best of every team he’s on remains strong to this day. And that’s fine.“Ikuya!” God, that greeting is getting old. “Wait up!”With a deep breath, Ikuya stops and waits for him at the entrance to the locker room.“Hi.”“Man, you killed it out there,” Asahi praises. “No one stood a chance.”“Thanks.”Something flashes across Asahi’s face, too fast for Ikuya to understand. Then he’s all smiles again, and whatever it was becomes just another item on the list of ways Ikuya doesn’t know him anymore.“So…can I convince you to do the relay this time?” he asks hopefully. “For old times’ sake?”For old times’ sake. It’s always the same guilt trip. Ikuya feels his blood pressure rising.“Sorry,” he apologizes unapologetically, “no can do. I need to focus on the two hundred tomorrow.”“Damn, I thought maybe - I’ll get you one of these days! There’s no way our exchanges aren’t still the best,” Asahi declares. “I know it.”There’s no way that’s true. They don’t even exchange texts.“You know that’s not true,” Ikuya pushes back. “We were twelve the last time we did an exchange.”“Some things never change,” Asahi replies, and for a moment, he looks so sad. And really, how dare he?“But most do.”Aito is always there at Worlds to cheer Asahi on. To cheer the whole gang on, really, because he’s as much a part of the group now as any of them. He’s always so kind and congratulatory when it comes to Ikuya. None of it is put on - no false notes detected, just genuine happiness at Ikuya’s success.“Watching you swim is always such an amazing experience,” Aito gushes after the two hundred. He’s got Asahi with him, as always. “It’s inspiring.”“Isn’t he?” Asahi says proudly, as though he’s been there through any of it. “His breast stroke’s always been the best.”“I bet that middle school relay was really something. I’d love to see you two do one again,” Aito echoes Asahi’s sentiments.He’s such a good, kind person.Ikuya hates him.Dating never comes into the picture. He tells himself it’s because it’s too much work. He tells himself that he doesn’t want to become like Asahi, dropping his closest friends the second mister right shows up. Not like he didn’t encourage him every step of the way, but whatever. Details. What he absolutely refuses to acknowledge out loud is the real reason: he’s still in love. He holds that against Asahi, too - he can’t even find his own happiness because he can’t move the fuck on. At night, though, the anger fades away, replaced by the grief that refuses to budge. There has to be a shelf life for this shit, right? Apparently not.With Hiyori busy in his own life, he has no one to talk to. No one to lean on. He’s loath to confide in anyone. Even Haru, who specifically offered his support, goes uncontacted. If not for his brother showing up unexpectedly at his apartment during a particularly bad crying jag, no one would ever know.“Ikuya, I know you’re home,” his brother calls from outside. “I can hear the TV.”Oh. Duh.Before answering the door, he runs to the bathroom to splash water on his face. It does fuck all to help with the red splotches or bloodshot eyes, but at least he tried.“I’m not feeling well,” he lies through a cracked door. “I’m sleeping it off.”“Come on, kid,” his brother sighs impatiently. “Let’s not do this whole song and dance.”“Fine,” he mumbles, and does as he’s told. “Come in.”Opening his months-empty apartment to another human is a humbling experience. Most of the lights are off, the trash is full and needs to be taken out, the fridge is empty, and the bed’s unmade. He knows what it looks like. It looks like he doesn’t take care of himself, and it’s true - outside of swimming, he doesn’t give one shit.“Christ, Ikuya,” his brother says with a low whistle. “This is…not good. What’s going - ”Ikuya bursts into tears. Gross, humiliating tears.“Hey, hey, come here.”His brother pulls him into a hug, and his sobs get louder. He hasn’t received any affection in what feels like years - in fact, it might really be years. Most of that is self-inflicted, he knows. He’s the one who’s kept himself on emotional lockdown. The irony of pushing everyone away when he was terrified of being left isn’t lost on him. Regardless, he’d all but forgotten what it felt like to be hugged, and it’s pulling those years from him in a release almost frightening in its strength.“How long has this been going on?” his brother asks once Ikuya’s calmed down enough to talk. “Is this what you do when you say you’re busy?”All Ikuya can do is nod, afraid speaking will provoke a fresh wave of tears.“Fuck,” his brother mutters to himself, and drops down on the couch. “So…years?”Ikuya joins him, not bothering with a confirmation. He doesn’t need to tell his brother what he already knows. This space that was once reserved for stupid, pointless shit and talk of nothing is now reserved for nothing, full stop.“I’m so angry,” he says, finally able to push through and speak. “And lonely. I can’t - there’s no way back to how it was.”His brother pulls him into another hug. “You lost someone important to you.” Apparently he’s more perceptive than Ikuya gives him credit for.“I wasn’t enough,” he sniffs. “Not even as a friend.” More tears spill over, but this time he talks through them. “I can’t live like this. Something has to change. I have to change. This isn’t - he’s not coming back. No one knows me anymore, and it’s my fault.”“Stop. You’re putting way too much on yourself,” his brother scolds. “Have I - has anyone bothered to check in?”“Haru. Once.”“Once. So, once more than me. You need to rely on people, Ikuya, you know that. But it goes both ways. I’ve been failing you. Again. For years?” Now his brother is sniffling. “I’m so sorry.”It’s a relief he doesn’t start crying too. Ikuya couldn’t deal with it.“I know you’re angry with him. But don’t withdraw from everyone over one person. Actually, I’ll make sure you don’t.”Though he never names it, Ikuya wonders if his brother hears what he’s not saying. The way he responds and comforts him is tailored to Ikuya’s unspoken heartbreak.“I’ll try,” is as much of a promise as he can make. “I will.”They follow up their heart-to-heart with a deep clean of his apartment. They go grocery shopping, change Ikuya’s bedding, and take out the trash. Then it’s takeout and talk of nothing - a repurposing of a tradition that ceased to be one years ago.After that night, Ikuya puts in the effort to reconnect with his friends. The pains he takes are successful and strengthened by his brother looking out for him. It’s obvious he’s working in the background, encouraging his friends to do their part. Asahi is the obvious outlier. Kisumi also falls outside his scope of interest - he’s assumed the best friend role from which Ikuya was forcibly ejected.Life improves along with his healed friendships. The crying doesn’t stop, but it does lessen. Maybe grief is like that. Maybe it gets easier with time.He only speaks to Asahi if it’s absolutely necessary. Sometimes it looks like he wants to approach but thinks better of it at the last second. It’s for the best. What would they even talk about?Yet sometimes - only sometimes - he feels Asahi’s eyes follow him out the door when he leaves without a word.The year Ikuya turns twenty-five, everything changes.He receives an offer to swim overseas - for Great Britain, specifically. Their offer comes with an expedited dual-citizenship process, a flat in central London, and one hell of a stipend. Most of the brands Ikuya works with are global, so he wouldn’t have to lose out on sponsorships either. There’s also his fluency in English. He wouldn’t be facing a world in which he’s stuck behind a language barrier, unable to communicate. It’s a fantastic, life-changing offer.It would also mean leaving everything and everyone he knows and loves behind.He asks for some time to consider the offer. They give him three months. Three months to make the most consequential decision of his life. He discusses it with his brother and gets helpful input from Nao, who both think it might be good for him. His brother is understandably emotional, but he manages to stay objective. Ikuya appreciates and loves him for both of those things.Hiyori also gets in on the conversation. Ikuya is left in disbelief when he advises him to accept the offer. Secretly, he’s a little hurt. Hiyori’s always wanted him around no matter what. Encouraging him to leave feels like rejection, even though Ikuya knows that’s not what it is.Ultimately, the ball is in Ikuya’s court. No one can make this decision for him. But damn, he wishes they would.Why he does it, he has no idea. Maybe he’s taking him up on his offer from so long ago. Maybe he trusts him not to blab. Whatever the case, he brings his life-changing decision to Haru’s doorstep.“That’s a big deal.”“I know,” Ikuya agrees, accepting the tea Haru offers. “And everyone thinks I should go. Everyone being my brother, Nao, and Hiyori,” he amends.“How come?”“They all think a major life change would be good for me. Athletically and personally.”“Even Hiyori? That’s a surprise,” Haru remarks. “Guess we’ve all done some growing up.”“That, and he doesn’t need me the way he used to,” he says, doing his best to keep the hurt out of his voice. Hiyori’s allowed to have a life. Then, with some guilt, “He and Kaede are good together. Which is gross.”Haru laughing, however reserved, will never not be jarring.“I’m not disagreeing.” Yeah, Haru’s a good one. “But Ikuya, my honest opinion is that if you decide to go, don’t base it on anything other than a desire to go. Don’t let your decision be reactionary. I made a lot of those with Rin.”He should’ve known Haru would know. Of course he fucking knows. He’s psychic. Ironically, Asahi hasn’t played a role in his decision-making thus far. Distance and reconnecting with friends have made it easier to be objective. No one needs to know he still cries - far less than he was, but never fully stopped.“Yeah, and you dragged us through those decisions,” Ikuya reminds him with a wry smile. “Thank god you finally just did the damn thing.”Marriage. ‘The damn thing’ is marriage. To the relief of every man, woman, and child, they tied the knot four months ago at the hotel where they’d reconciled before Fukuoka. Rin had cried through the whole thing, obviously, and though he’ll never admit it, Ikuya knows for a fact Haru shed a few tears himself.“And no one will ever let us forget it,” Haru sighs. “So don’t be like us. Go with the facts and your heart, not your hurt.”Ikuya stares down at his tea. He knows Haru’s saying that because he’s familiar with Ikuya’s propensity to do exactly that - making major life choices in the heat of the moment.“I’ll do that,” he says. “I will.”Two months after the offer is made, Ikuya makes his choice.He sends the email on a Saturday morning while he drinks his coffee. The decision was made just as he’d promised Haru - with his heart and the facts. Once he started listening to himself, the choice came easily. Even so, there’s a final, understandable surge of hesitation and indecision. This is the best thing for him, but while it’s the beginning of something, it’s also an end. He’ll be leaving whatever could have been in this life behind to find out what will be in the next.So, with one click on a Saturday morning, while he drinks his coffee, he follows his heart and leaves.…and thank fuck he does. If he had waited about nine hours, his choice would have been the most reactionary he’s ever made. Yes, it would have been the same choice, but holy shit, would it have been for all the wrong reasons.He’s making dinner when the group chat blows up. The dings come so fast he has to scroll up to see the original message. When he does, the phone falls from his hand and hits the floor with a sickening thud. All he can hear is the sound of blood roaring in his ears as he picks his phone up and looks through the photos.Rings. Two of them. On the most predictable hands imaginable. At twenty-six, Asahi is engaged to his boyfriend of five years.Naturally, Asahi’s the one down on one knee in the pictures - he’s never done anything in half measures. There’s even a video of the proposal taken by Asahi’s sister. It’s a grand spectacle, all tears and joy and ‘yes, yes, yes!’ Ikuya sinks to the floor, unable to look away from another, entirely different end. For them, it’s a start. The start of what will undoubtedly be a wonderful life together. Ikuya won’t be there for their new beginning. He’ll be making one of his own, and thank god for that.For the next two hours, he sits on the kitchen floor. Sobbing is too taxing. His tears are quiet but seemingly endless, physically painful in a way loud cries have never been. Those nine words echo in his head - he encouraged this, he made this possible. Though it was never going to be him, he was the architect of his own demise, the one who set everything in motion.He doesn’t add his voice to the chorus of excitement and well wishes. No amount of trying to talk himself into it makes a difference. Haru texts him separately, and he does respond to that. He surprises himself in his honesty - he’s heartbroken, he writes, he’s never been less okay in his life. Not included in his texts is the decision he made earlier today. Nothing would sound more reactionary, however untrue it might be.Three hours after the first of Ikuya’s two endings, his brother, Nao, and Hiyori show up. They stay with him as he finally loses all semblance of composure and don’t leave his side until he’s cried himself to sleep. They return in the morning bearing coffee and continued support, and that’s when Ikuya informs them of his decision. To assure them of his levelheadedness when he hit send, he shows them the time stamp of the email.Their reactions make it real. His brother is thrilled and - and he’s crying, and now Ikuya is crying again, caught in a layer cake of grief, joy, excitement, fear, and so, so many endings.“I’m so proud of you,” his brother cries into their millionth embrace of the day. “So stupid proud.”“You’ll come visit, right?” he asks, sounding so much like his younger self. “I know you don’t travel anymore, but - ”“I think I can make an exception for this.”“We’re not getting drunk every night.”“…every other night?”Now that it’s real, he can already feel this life slipping into the before. This is right, he thinks. The right move for him.And escaping Asahi’s beginning? That’s just icing on the cake.Eventually, Ikuya sends Asahi and Aito his congratulations.Because he doesn’t want to talk to either of them individually, he sends them a group text. Aito responds first, effusive and hoping to see him at their engagement party. Asahi takes longer. When he texts back, it’s more subdued. He also hopes Ikuya will come to their engagement party. Ikuya accepts their informal invitation. He’s leaving in two months anyway, and refuses to be thought of as an asshole when he does.One by one - two, in Rin and Haru’s case - he tells his friends about his decision and upcoming move. There’s a groundswell of emotion and support for him - all the tears, hugs, and promises they’ll be waiting for him when he comes home move him deeply. What he doesn’t tell them is that while ‘when’ is a lovely sentiment, he doesn’t know if he’ll be coming home again. Not permanently, anyway. He’s not planning that far ahead. All he’s focused on is creating a new life, and that life doesn’t involve more than the occasional visit.He doesn’t bother telling Asahi. Someone else will tell him, he figures. Someone he still has a personal relationship with. Ikuya is not that person.Six weeks after the announcement and Ikuya’s decision, and two weeks prior to Ikuya’s departure, Asahi and Aito have their engagement party.“You okay?” his brother asks between teary, ecstatic toasts.“Not really,” he answers honestly. “But I will be.”They look so happy. They look so fucking happy, and Ikuya is so fucking relieved he won’t be around for this long term. There’s dancing, drinking, and endless, relentless joy. He tries to avoid any real face time with Asahi, but he’s thwarted about halfway through the evening.“Man, what are we going to do without you, you asshole?”He and Rin are by the bar waiting for refills. Rin’s had enough to start waxing poetic and emotional. It’s entertaining.“We’ll see each other,” he assures him. “At tournaments. And I’ll visit.” Not often, but he will.“International tournaments just got a hell of a lot more international,” Rin grins. “As if I needed more incentive to kick your ass.”“You’re on.”“Who’s kicking whose ass?”Fuck.Asahi slings his arm around Ikuya’s shoulders and gives him the brightest smile he’s ever seen. His tie is loose, his sleeves are rolled up, and his hair is messy from all the hugs and overly physical displays of affection. He’s the picture of someone in the thick of one of the happiest nights of their life.The urge to shake him off is overwhelming. Instead, he stands there and takes it. If he wants to play best friends one more time before Ikuya leaves, so be it.“I’ll be kicking Ikuya’s ass,” Rin informs him. “He’s not allowed to win any medals if they’re not for Japan.”“Don’t cry when I take home everything for Great Britain,” he challenges him.“Huh? What’s Great Britain got to do with anything?” Asahi asks, his smile wavering in confusion.No. There’s no way. There’s no way, right? Someone told him. Anyone. All their friends do is talk. There’s no way he doesn’t know.“You know, Ikuya’s big move,” Rin replies carelessly. “Leaving us to be all fancy in London. Can you believe it’s only two weeks?”Asahi is frozen next to him. His arm is stiff, and his smile is gone, replaced by shock and now total confusion. He opens his mouth as if to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. A disgusting, completely fucking unfair rush of guilt rises in Ikuya at the sight. This is not his bad. So why does he feel like it is?Realization dawns on Rin’s face in the deafening silence following his comment.“Shit. I didn’t - I guess I should let you two - ”“Asahi!” Aito appears at his fiancé’s side. “We have to - oh, Ikuya!” he exclaims, and pulls him into an embrace. “It means so much that you’re here. We couldn’t imagine this without you.” Then he turns his attention back to Asahi. “Your aunt wants to give us her gift now - I know, I know,” he says apologetically when Asahi opens his mouth again to protest. “But you know how she is. Let’s just humor her.”Ikuya has never been more grateful for Aito. He’s never been grateful for him, period, but he is now. Asahi keeps looking back at him as Aito drags him away, his shock now tinged with something incredibly raw. Ikuya’s chest tightens painfully, which is, again, so unfair. He can’t stand to look at him, so he focuses back on Rin.“Well, fuck. You really didn’t tell him?”“I honestly thought someone would tell him.” It sounds so stupid now that he says it out loud. “We don’t even - we don’t even talk anymore,” he finishes lamely.“I get it,” Rin hurries to reassure him. “No, I really do. Haru does talk once in a while.”There’s no judgment in his voice, only understanding. Ikuya will forever love him for that. He’ll never let him win a medal in freestyle, but he’ll love him.Asahi is still stealing glances at him from the other side of the room. Under his intermittent gaze, the drink now in Ikuya’s hand is no longer appealing. The toasts have been made, the love’s been spread, and it’s time for him to go. This chapter of his life is closing, and this party is simply another loose thread he’s successfully tied up before it does.So he gathers his things, says his goodbyes with promises to touch base before he leaves - he has no desire for any formal gathering - and heads out. He’s about halfway down the quiet city block when the voice he least wants to hear rings out.“Ikuya!”He considers not stopping. But he’s not that big of an asshole, so he does. He stops and waits for Asahi to catch up with him, dreading whatever pointless interaction is coming.“Hey.”“I didn’t - you didn’t - you’re really leaving?”The look on his face is so…desperate? Pleading? Fuck. No, Ikuya’s not going back to that place.“Yes,” he replies without further explanation. “I’m leaving.”“For how long? Is it - wait, if you’re swimming for GB, then - I mean, you have to be a citizen, right?”“They’re expediting the process. I’ll have dual citizenship. As far as any of us are concerned, that’s my home from now on.”Asahi’s eyes go wide. “No - what? Just like that? But what about your life here? What about…?”“I need something new. I need - look, Asahi, you and Aito - ” he doesn’t know where this is coming from and hates that he means it “ - you’re going to have an amazing life together. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy. We - I’m glad I sent you out into the world to find him.” His heart is breaking all over again, but he doesn’t stop. “Tell him I said that.”Considering he’s just given them his genuine, heartfelt blessing - at the cost of his own well-being, no less - Asahi sure looks like he’s been slapped in the face.“I - will you at least come to the wedding?”“What?” Seriously? Ikuya exhales a frustrated sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “Asahi - okay. If I can make it back.”Not in a million years will he make it back. He’s always been cruel to himself, but that’s a bridge too far. Before Asahi can guilt him into anything more definitive, Ikuya says the one goodbye he’s most and least ready to make.“Good luck, Asahi,” he wishes him with utter sincerity. “With everything. I don’t need a hypothetical to know you’ll be happy.”With that, he turns on his heel and begins to walk away.“Ikuya!” Asahi calls one last time. “Please, I - I don’t know. Just please - ”Ikuya squeezes his eyes shut, then turns to look at him one last time.“Go back to your party,” he advises gently, with the warmest, most genuine smile he’s given him in years. “Goodbye, Asahi.”He doesn’t turn back this time, or listen for his name or the sound of Asahi walking in the other direction. They’re both headed toward their new beginnings. There’s nothing left to say.And if he cries all night, well, every ending needs a last hurrah, right?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Two weeks later, Ikuya leaves Japan for the Western world for the second - and possibly final - time.He’s said all his goodbyes. They were as hard as he expected. But every one of them made him feel loved - he’ll always have something to come home to if he needs it. With those reassurances in his back pocket, he flies across the world, away from his ending and into his beginning.His flat is a spacious, elegant place in South Kensington. The views are beautiful, and he’s even got his own little balcony to take it all in. He’s brought some of his furniture from Japan, but for the most part, he plans on decorating and creating a brand-new space to call home. A clean slate in every aspect of his life. There’s so much to explore in his neighborhood and across the city. The weather will take some getting used to. Persistent rain, fog, and cloudy skies worry him - constant drear can be draining, so he’ll need to monitor his mental health. But hey, no more astronomical heat waves. There’s an upside to everything.He becomes an official team member about a month after his arrival. His teammates, the coaches, the trainers, the managers - they’re fantastic. They welcome him warmly and with no preconceived notions or prejudices against him as a foreigner joining their ranks. Training starts right away. It’s exactly what Ikuya hoped for, to be thrown in at the proverbial deep end and immerse himself in new waters. Of course, there’s homesickness. For the first few months, he’s constantly asking himself if he made the right choice. The number of times he almost books the next flight home is incalculable. On a soul level, however, he knows this is right. Everything about this is right. Homesickness is natural, and that understanding stops him from throwing his credit card at the airlines every time, despite the gnawing emptiness his former life once inhabited. His main point of contact is his brother, though he also regularly connects with his friends through video calls, texts, and pictures. He’s consistent and open with them, which he wasn’t sure he would be.New friendships begin to develop as well. While the whole team is friendly, there are few he befriends more closely. They show Ikuya around the city and insist he join them when they go out. Eventually, they become real friends. Their connections deepen into bonds Ikuya trusts, bonds that exist only in his new life. This version of him is lighter. He’s not weighed down by years of baggage here. Abandonment, heartbreak, loneliness - they don’t disappear. That’s not how it works. But they do become more distant. They’re tied up with everything he left behind, which is still very much a part of him, but not woven into the fabric of his day-to-day.“Am I going crazy, or is Ikuya Kirishima tipsy?”“Nah,” he dismisses the accusation of the true Kirishima drunk. “Not me.” Then he breaks into high-pitched laughter, giving away his not-so-secret secret. “Maybe.”“I don’t know if I’m proud or horrified,” his brother frowns.Ten months later, they’re on a video call initiated by Ikuya after a night on the town with his teammates. Ikuya really is only tipsy. He’s not much of a drinker, but he lets loose and downs a few old lady white wine spritzers once in a while.“Pot, meet kettle,” he smirks. “Nao supports me. Right, Nao?”“Right,” comes Nao’s voice from somewhere off-camera.“Traitors,” his brother grumbles. Then he does that thing where he just observes Ikuya like he’s reading him through the screen. “You seem happy.”“I am.” And it’s true. He is happy. “Things are good. Great. They’re great.”Unsurprisingly, his brother starts to get emotional. He always does on these calls. “You deserve it. No one deserves this more than you.”Now - even less surprisingly - it’s Ikuya’s turn to get emotional. “Will you come visit soon?”“How’s June sound? Think you can handle hosting someone so much cooler than you for a month?”Ikuya sobers and perks up in no seconds flat. “A whole month? Yes! I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m down.”“Loser,” his brother snorts. “Can’t wait.”“Me too. Okay, bedtime for me, pretend work day for you,” he teases. “Give everyone my love, okay?”“Ten-four, kid. Love you.”“Love you, Aniki.”They never talk about Asahi on their calls. From what Ikuya’s pieced together from calls with his friends, he and Aito are in the thick of wedding planning. It also sounds like Asahi’s considering retiring in the next year or two. That shakes Ikuya more than the wedding planning. He wants to leave him behind, and in so many ways, he has - but swimming is the last thread linking them, the final piece of losing him.He’ll get through it. He’s gotten through every perceived final piece so far. Finality has been their relationship for the last five years.Nearly a year after his move, Ikuya downloads one of the apps.It’s not the same app. He refuses to use the one he inflicted so much self-harm with. It’s not like he even has the option to - it’s unavailable outside of Asia. But it’s the principle of the thing. His friends help him set up his profile, choosing flattering pictures he feels aren’t representative of his looks and writing up a bio that makes him sound like a far greater catch than he is.Ikuya has never been in the dating pool. Heartache has owned him for so long, he never bothered. Now he’s ready to try. He has no desire to follow the same path as Asahi. For him, it’s about getting his toes wet, figuring out his likes, dislikes, and what being young and single looks and feels like.“Him,” his friend David says as Ikuya swipes. “He’s a thirst trap posing as a nerd. Say yes.”“How do you even know that?”“Ikuya, believe me. I live on Instagram.” He does. Ikuya rarely goes on his, though he posts occasional photos of him and his friends. “That’s exactly the kind of guy you get your toes wet with.”“Terrible innuendo,” his other friend, John, chimes in. “Tell it like it is. You,” he addresses Ikuya like it’s the most important thing he’s ever told anyone, “need to get laid. Say yes.”“If you insist,” Ikuya shrugs, and says yes.Thirst Trap Nerd turns out to be exactly as his friends predicted. He’s a decent guy, smart, not looking for anything serious, and so fucking hot. He’s the perfect person for Ikuya to explore his sexuality with - he figures out several likes, and a few dislikes too. He discovers his love for being a pillow princess and active participant in equal measure, and after a while, he’s convinced no one in London gives better head. What? Everyone else is allowed to have an ego. Why not him?The hookups are regular, but they’re nowhere near exclusive. It gives Ikuya the freedom to explore and make up for so much time lost to heartbreak. While sex is an essential component, it’s not like he’s sleeping his way around London. He goes on actual dates too. They range from cute dates like the museum or the zoo to more low-key coffeehouse kind of affairs. Through it all, Thirst Trap Nerd is his long-term go-to for some feelings-free fun.As promised, that June - his second in London - his brother finally comes to visit.“Shit, look at you,” his brother grins when he arrives at Ikuya’s flat. “All grown up and fancy.”“Had to happen sometime.”“Yeah, yeah, you were always going to be cooler than me.” Then he grabs him and gives him a big bear hug.Ikuya’s never been happier to see his functioning alcoholic of a brother in his life.They have a fantastic month. Ikuya shows him around, takes him to pubs, shows him around some more, follows him to pubs, calls Nao to ask how to get his brother to cut out the whole pub thing - it’s exactly what he expected and hoped for. There’s only one low moment, and that’s when his brother hands him the invitation to Asahi’s wedding.“I told him he should mail it, but he really wanted me to give it to you in person,” he explains. “I still don’t know how I feel about that.”“It is what it is,” Ikuya sighs.The envelope is heavy in his hands, and heavier still once he’s opened it and removed the invitation. It’s beautiful. There’s no way Asahi designed it. This is all Aito. It’s a fall wedding, likely chosen to avoid a horrific heat wave killing the vibe. He has no doubt it’ll be beautiful.Looking at it makes him sick to his stomach.“Do you think you’ll come back for it?”“What do you think?” he retorts, then changes his tune - this isn’t his brother’s fault. “Sorry. I - no. I just can’t do it. Didn’t think this would be so difficult to look at, honestly. I thought maybe I’d moved on enough.”“I’m not surprised,” his brother replies. “It had you in a tailspin for years. That’s not something that just disappears. I mean, it will eventually. Especially if that has anything to say about it.” He nods at the coffee table, where Ikuya’s phone vibrates with DM notifications.“No spying!”His brother grabs the phone. “You’re the one who left it out here in plain sight!” He easily fends off Ikuya’s lunge for the device, laughing as he reads off names. “Mark, Chris, Brayden - the fuck are these names?”“Ones you shouldn’t be looking at,” Ikuya scowls.“If you change your mind about the wedding, bring one of these dweebs as your plus one. Want to fill out the RSVP card so I can give it to him?” his brother asks as he relents and hands Ikuya his phone. “Or do you want to mail it yourself?”“Might as well be you.”Every bone in his body aches with grief much rawer than he expected when he checks ‘No’ and signs his name on the RSVP card. He adds a small ‘congratulations’ in the corner because he’s still not an asshole. He should also get them something off their registry. Ugh.“I’m really glad you were here for this,” he thanks his brother. “I don’t think I could have done it by myself. I probably would have thrown it out on sight.”“I know you would’ve. Should we also talk about Worlds? You’ll have to see him there. He qualified, obviously.”Oh, he knows. He’s been shoving that fact into the darkest recesses of his mind, where it’s barely accessible for months.“Mhm.” He hugs his knees to his chest and looks at his feet. “I need to focus on making sure the team doesn’t regret taking me. Of course it’s going to fucking suck,” he admits. “I haven’t talked to him in a year and a half. There’s no way he doesn’t know I talk to everyone else. So that’ll be awkward as shit.”“Well, I’ll be there,” his brother assures him. “So you can come cry on my shoulder when I’m not busy winning.”“I hope I don’t cry,” he grimaces. “But I probably will. Thanks for the shoulder offer.”“I got you, kid,” his brother promises. “For real.”Of all the times his brother has made that promise, Ikuya has never believed it more wholeheartedly than now.“I know.”Two months later, Ikuya makes his global debut swimming for Great Britain. He’s participated in a handful of international and domestic tournaments so far - and to great success - but this is the big one. The competition where he makes a name for himself in his new life against his old one.He heads to Belgium for Worlds in August. Nerves and excitement bubble inside him, a heady cocktail that has him buzzing the entire train ride there.He’s so excited to see his friends. They’ve arranged to meet up after the opening ceremony - a plan shockingly spearheaded by his brother, who’s never taken charge of a single plan in his entire life. Both Kirishimas are growing up, it would seem. Asahi will also be present, but his desire to see his other friends outweighs how his heart squeezes whenever he thinks about it. The only person who won’t be there is Hiyori, who, in a shocking upset, didn’t qualify. Kaede is here, but he never quite made it past the outskirts of their group, so he won’t be joining them.“Ikuya!” Rin cries from across the restaurant when he walks in with his brother. “Get over here!”He’s never booked it so fast in his life. The hugs he receives are ones for the ages. Rin, Haru, Sousuke, Makoto, Nao, Rei, Nagisa, and even Ai shower him with the affection he was so starved for during his darkest years. Fuck, he missed them. Being the center of attention is overwhelming in the best way possible, and erases any lingering insecurities or anxiety he might have had.Then there’s Asahi.Ikuya doesn’t blame him for arriving late, or with the security blanket of his fiancé. They both know it’s going to be awkward, and they both know Asahi hasn’t been part of Ikuya’s efforts to stay connected. There’s also the tiny detail of his wedding in one month, and Ikuya’s corresponding refusal. Awkwardness aside, he looks good. Happy. Engaged, almost-married life suits him. In case Ikuya needed another reason to feel zero guilt over not attending the wedding.Aito, weirdly clueless as he is after all these years, rushes to greet Ikuya.“Everyone’s missed you so much,” Aito enthuses. “We have, too. Right, Asahi?”“Oh, uh. Yeah,” Asahi agrees. “Hey, Ikuya. Long time no see.”“No kidding,” he says with a wry smile. Then, because he’s feeling magnanimous and mature, he tells his first lie of the week. “It’s good to see you.”Asahi brightens a little at that. “You too.”Ikuya allows a small, brief hug and hates how badly jumbled his insides turn as a result. Yeah - this is going to be tough.“So, Iku-chan,” Nagisa whispers about four drinks in. His version of a whisper is a yell, but by now, everyone can differentiate his whisper-yell from his yell-yell. “Anyone we should know about?” He takes a furtive glance around the table. “Like…are you getting laid?”“Nagisa!” Rei exclaims, still horrified by his antics nearly a decade later. “That’s a highly personal question!”“Aw, but everyone wants to know,” Nagisa whines.“I’m interested,” Haru pipes up, nearly sending the table into an apoplectic fit.Lucky for Nagisa and Haru, Ikuya’s feeling indulgent. He might also be a little vengeful - Asahi isn’t the only one who can find something fulfilling on a stupid fucking app. Different, but fulfilling nonetheless.“I’m having fun,” he gives in, keeping it purposefully cryptic. “A lot of fun.”A chorus of wolf whistles and whoops break out across the table.“Iku-chan’s getting laid!” Nagisa cheers. “Some lucky guy is getting the best ass in London.”Ikuya shrugs. “Lucky them.”Speculation and questions abound after that. Ikuya keeps it close to his chest for a while, but Rin finally convinces him to tell them about Thirst Trap Nerd.“And they were right. About the innuendo and the guy. They haven’t steered me wrong yet.”“Look at you, Iku-chan,” Rin smirks. “All grown up.”“Apparently. Now if you’ll excuse me, the bathroom is calling.”He follows the bathroom’s call, smiling to his petty self as he does. It occurs to him he didn’t even bother to check Asahi’s reaction. That’s a good thing, right? That’s a really good thing.He’s washing his hands when Asahi enters the bathroom.“Hey.”“Hi.”Now that the table-fueled adrenaline is absent, seeing Asahi has him feeling all kinds of awkward. He quickly dries his hands and turns for the door. To his monumental frustration, Asahi doesn’t let him go so easily.“Sounds like you’re doing really well over there.”Ikuya takes a steadying breath before facing him, willing himself to be kind.“I am. It was the right move.”“That’s great. I actually, like…looked up how you’re doing, competition-wise,” Asahi reveals. “Wasn’t surprised to see you’re killing it.”What? He’s looking up his stats? They aren’t competing in any of the same events, and there’s no way he suddenly gives a shit about him personally. Almost six years of diminishing friendship followed by radio silence is incontrovertible proof.“Thank you,” he replies instead of demanding to know why he’s researching him. “Hopefully I’ll keep my streak up here.” He doesn’t ask about Asahi’s swimming. Watching him this week will be more than enough to gauge his growth as an athlete.“No way you don’t. You’ve always been the best at breaststroke,” Asahi smiles, echoing something he once said in a different life - when they were a them.“Thanks,” he repeats. “We’ll see if that holds up this week.”With as polite a smile as he can muster, he makes another attempt to leave. But it appears Asahi’s big on small talk tonight - another marker of their complete estrangement.“Natsuya gave us your RSVP. I’m sorry you can’t make it to the wedding.”“Yeah, me too,” he lies yet again. He has a feeling this week will be full of them. “There’s a training camp that week - ” there isn’t “ - that I can’t get out of - ” he could “ - and I don’t think I could swing the airfare anyway.”“For sure. I get it. Well, we’ll miss you.” He hesitates. “I’ll miss you.”Is he for fucking real?“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful,” he says, ignoring Asahi’s declaration altogether. “I’ll live vicariously through everyone on Instagram.”“No doubt. I’m just ready to do the damn thing. Wedding planning is the pits.”Fucking - why are they still talking?“I’m sure.” He’s had about enough of this for the next three lifetimes, so he makes for the exit again. “Sorry, I’m just going to head - ”“Why didn’t you start dating until you moved?”Ikuya freezes. “What?”“Was there - why not in Japan?”Excuse him? What the fuck kind of out-of-nowhere question is that? Lord, he should go off on him - so obviously, that’s not what he does.“I wasn’t ready.” It’s not a lie. Given the state he was in for years, he was in no place to be looking for love. “Emotionally. I just wasn’t there yet.”He feels so exposed under the sudden intensity of Asahi’s gaze. Why is this happening? And why is it happening in a restaurant bathroom mid-reunion?“So if you’d stayed, you…would have been ready? Eventually?”No. Never.“Possibly. I don’t know. I was a fucking mess, Asahi.”“What? You were?” he asks, oddly and insultingly alarmed. “I had no idea. For how long?”“I don’t know.” He knows. “Years?”“Wh - years? You didn’t tell me.”“When would I have told you?” Ikuya counters, offended by how startlingly emotional Asahi sounds. “Should I have told you when we were hanging out? Oh, wait, never mind - we never hung out.”“I wish I’d known,” Asahi doubles down, disregarding Ikuya’s accusation like he’d been living in an alternate reality all those years. “I would have - ”“No, you wouldn’t have,” Ikuya finally snaps, because this is fucking beyond unfair. He should be out there with his real friends, not in here doing whatever the fuck this is. “I don’t know what you think you would have done, but you wouldn’t have. I was a mess then, when you could have actually done something. But no, you were long gone. It’s always when it’s too late with you, isn’t it?” he bites out as self-righteous, long pent-up rage spills out of him. “You don’t even fucking talk to me until you find out I’m leaving, then you’re suddenly all broken up about it. And now you say if you knew I was a mess, you’d have done - done something, whatever that means. Knowing would have required you to be there, and you weren’t. So no, you wouldn’t have done anything. You wouldn’t have done a goddamn thing, Asahi.”It’s not until he stops to breathe that he realizes he’s shaking. As for Asahi - if he looked intense before, he looks positively horrified now.“Ikuya,” he rasps, taking a step toward him - then another, and another. “I wish - no, I should have - fuck, Ikuya.”He’s so close all of a sudden, closer than he’s been since they were twenty - possibly closer than he’s ever been. Ikuya’s heart is beating wildly, painful in his chest.“I didn’t want this,” he pleads - for what, Ikuya couldn’t possibly guess. “This isn’t what I wanted.”“Then what did you want, Asahi?”“I wanted to stay the way we were,” he says. “But you - ”“But I what? No one made you disappear. I haven’t found that section in the rule book since I started dating. And Kisumi apparently passed whatever friend test you had, so it was clearly about me, specifically. So why don’t you tell me what you really wanted? Hypothetically speaking.”“Alright.” Asahi takes a deep breath and another step, bringing them within inches of each other. His gaze is fixed on him with singular, breathless intensity. Then he lifts his hand and brushes Ikuya’s cheek with his thumb. “You know what I really wanted? Hypothetically?”“Tell me,” he implores, instinctively leaning into Asahi’s touch. “Please.”“Okay.”His breath hitches as Asahi moves again, leaving next to no space between them. He nudges his nose against Ikuya’s, and, like they’re moving independently of him, Ikuya’s hands slide over Asahi’s shoulders. Their breath ghosts over each other’s lips, shaky and intoxicating. Nothing and no one exists outside this right now, outside them. Not Ikuya’s anger, grief, or hurt. Nothing. Not when their lips are just barely brushing, or when Asahi’s hand is sliding into his hair.“I wanted - all I wanted,” he murmurs against Ikuya’s lips, “all I ever wanted was - ”Bang.Someone - no one they know - loudly flings the bathroom door open, bringing with them the noise of the restaurant and the cold reality of the way things are.“Oops, thought this was the ladies’,” says the someone who is, in fact, a woman. Then she closes the door, leaving the two of them alone again. After one disoriented moment, everything rushes back, and Ikuya backs away like he’s been burned.“What the fuck?” he whispers. Then, louder, “No, I’m sorry - what the fuck?”“Ikuya, wait,” Asahi tries, “I - ”“You,” he begins, chest heaving with fury, “how dare you? How fucking dare you?” His lower lip trembles, and he begs himself not to cry. Not yet. “I really am just disposable trash to you, aren’t I? Something fun on the side now that you could possibly fuck me?”Asahi’s face drains of color. “What? No!” he exclaims, a hundred times more horrified than before. Bullshit. “Ikuya, please - ”“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he interrupts. “You’re going to go back out there to your fiancé. You know, the one you’re marrying in a fucking month. Remember?” Asahi’s eyes are trained on him, brimming with desperation like he might not be done trying whatever he just tried on him. Not on Ikuya’s watch. “I’m going to get some air far away from you. And don’t even think about coming anywhere near me this week. I’m not going to let your selfishness fuck this up for me. We don’t know each other after this. Got it?”Without waiting for an answer, he opens the door to leave.“Ikuya, please,” Asahi begs one more time. “Just - ”“For fuck’s sake, Asahi. Go get married. Get married, and get the fuck out of my life.”With that, he exits the bathroom and rushes out the side entrance of the restaurant. The second he’s outside, he crouches down and holds his head in his hands, taking in large gulps of open night air in an attempt to regulate his breathing. He stays there, trying and failing to reconcile the person he knew with the person who did nothing but come onto him after he’d finally unleashed his hurt. Who heard what he said at dinner and took advantage of it a month out from getting married. Ikuya might as well have been baring himself to thin air for all Asahi gave a shit.He will calm himself down, and he will go back to his friends. Asahi doesn’t get to take that joy from him. But one minute becomes five, ten, fifteen minutes, and he’s still out here trying to get himself under control. Twenty minutes in, the door opens, and someone he knows is his brother joins him on the ground. He wordlessly rubs Ikuya’s back while his breathing slows, familiar and comforting.“They left about ten minutes after he came back.”“I don’t give a shit what he did,” Ikuya mumbles. “He can go jump off a bridge. But not until he comes in dead last in everything this week.”His brother huffs a laugh. “That bad, huh?”“Worse.”The anger boils over again, and then he’s telling his brother everything, sparing no nasty, cruel detail. Once he’s told his shitty tale, exhaustion sets in. Exhaustion and misery.“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he groans. “I haven’t seen my friends in almost two years, and here I am in a fucking alley with my drunk-ass brother.”His brother takes it as the term of endearment it is. “We can still go back if you’re up for it. Everyone was so busy freaking out over you I don’t think they even noticed Asahi go to the bathroom. Or when he came back.” Good. “The only people who could have possibly been paying attention are Rin and Haru, and they won’t say anything. Let’s wait ten minutes and tell them Mom called.”“Fine,” he sighs. “I don’t think I have much left in me, though. I’m so tired.”“I mean, starting tomorrow, we’re all in go mode,” his brother reminds him. “No one’s going to want to stay out late.”“True. Thanks, Aniki.”“Anytime.”And lord, does he mean every word of gratitude he throws his way. When his brother said he’d step up to the plate, he meant it. He doesn’t know what he’d have done without him these last few years. Sometimes it bugs him that he never joins him in badmouthing Asahi, but it’s not really fair to demand that. Maybe it’s best he doesn’t. Ikuya needs someone there for him, not in it with him. Big difference.They go back to their friends, who buy their excuse without question. He doesn’t count Rin and Haru among them - he can see they know something happened. Putting up a good front is something he became an expert in before leaving Japan, and that’s exactly what he does now. There’s another round of drinks, during which they grill him further about his exotic new life. He does his best to humor them in their enthusiasm, but the luster’s worn off. To his everlasting relief, his brother is right - they wrap up soon after, agreeing they’ll have plenty of time to hang out in the coming week.Once he’s back in his room, the dam bursts. He cries and cries and cries. He cries for what was, what happened, and for the fresh hurt and heartbreak of tonight. Being alone with it is awful - he considers calling his brother, but he’s already asked and taken enough from him tonight. His brother, however, has other plans - he shows up with Rin and Haru in tow, who listen to him retell his story and engage in slightly more colorful criticism of their soon-to-be-wedded friend than his brother. Okay, so it’s mostly Rin, but that’s more than enough for Ikuya. Finally being able to talk shit with someone feels fucking fantastic.After getting it out, he cries some more. He cries until he can’t, until he’s so tired he couldn’t possibly cry anymore. After making sure he’ll be okay and making plans to meet up for breakfast, his companions leave. A hot shower renders him boneless, and coupled with an unusually comfortable hotel bed, he’s down for the count before his head hits the pillow. His sleep is mercifully deep and dreamless.Come morning, he’s full of purpose. No one can take what he’s built away from him, and he’ll prove that to the world this afternoon.He’ll tend to his bruises and breaks back home. As of right now, he’s a fucking god of destruction, and that’s precisely what he’ll do this week.Destroy.He destroys.Commentators and reporters laud him for his extraordinary performance. Three individual golds hang around his neck by day four, as well as one new world record in the one-hundred-meter breaststroke. He nabs a silver to Rin’s gold in the fifty-meter free, and helps pave Great Britain’s path to gold in the freestyle relay.Rage, hurt, and a newly fractured heart fuel his ferocious performance. Once, his emotions would have been impossible to harness, and would have affected his swimming to a disastrous degree. Now they coalesce into a focused, single-minded determination. Despite everything, despite all the bullshit, Ikuya has grown up.Asahi, sadly, does not come in last in any of his events. He picks up silver in the fifty-meter fly and bronze in the two-hundred. Finally, because he’ll never stop being a dumb fucking Pollyanna about it, he brings home gold with the rest of Japan’s medley relay team.Ikuya isn’t bitter in the least.Every so often, he’ll find himself in the locker room at the same time as Asahi. When he does, he acts like he doesn’t exist. Sometimes, he’ll find himself unfortunate enough to be two showers over, or only a few lockers away. Asahi always, always looks like he’s working up the courage to say something, and Ikuya always, always uses the time he takes to work it up to make his escape. If Asahi won’t respect his demand to stay away from him, Ikuya will take it upon himself to make sure he does.He spends time with his friends throughout the week. Photos are taken, and new memories are made, bittersweet in the knowledge that he’ll be headed in the opposite direction when they leave, with no clue when he’ll see them again. Asahi and Aito don’t show up to most of the group functions. The few times they do, Aito does the heavy lifting while Asahi does his best to fade into the background. Funny how he only respects Ikuya’s wishes around his fiancé. Guess the guilt got to him. Good.Raucous merriment follows the closing ceremonies, giving Ikuya one last chance to be with his friends. Dancing, drinking, laughter, and tears flow all evening, and Ikuya opens himself to all of it. He’ll never stop loving these people, whether in their midst or halfway across the world. Saying goodbye at the end of the night is impossible - it almost makes him reconsider his decision two whole years later. Almost. Somehow, he gets through it and heads back to the hotel, teary and with a full heart.He’s just stepped out of the taxi when -“Ikuya?”No. He keeps walking.“Wait, Ikuya - ”He keeps walking.“Please, just - listen, and then I promise, you’ll never hear from me again.”Time and again, promises are something Asahi’s proven he’s unable to keep. And yet -“Talk.”“Ikuya,” Asahi repeats for the third time, “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t matter anymore, but I am. You’re none of the things - I think the world of you. I always have. If I could do it all over, I’d do everything different. But I can’t. I can’t fix what I broke. I hope you have the - ” his voice breaks and he pauses to clear his throat “ - I hope you have the most amazing life. No one deserves it more.”Ikuya refuses to look at him, but he knows Asahi is crying. He really fucking hates that he’s also crying. Asahi doesn’t deserve his tears.“I’ll never stop being sorry.” A few sniffles, then, “Goodbye, Ikuya.”Grief and desperation for closure are what turn Ikuya’s head, and what makes him respond from a place of kindness.“I hope your life is a beautiful one, I really do. Goodbye, Asahi.”In spite of everything, in spite of how much he wishes he felt differently -He means it.One month later, Asahi and Aito get married.Ikuya tries not to look at Instagram. His failure is monumental. In a spectacular display of self-harm, he scrolls through every last photo and video in his feed. The ceremony, the vows, the tears, the toasts, the dancing - it’s all so beautiful, and so are the newlyweds. They’re glowing. Whatever happened in that bathroom, it had nothing to do with his love for Aito. That much is clear.Of course he cries. He allows himself to let it all out one last time - and no, it’s not lost on him how many times he’s cried for the last time. But there’s nothing more final than this, right? This really is the last time. A finality seven years in the making.His final act of kindness is his wedding gift. Since he can afford it, he chooses all the aspirational items. There aren’t many, but the few there are, he buys. They’re sent anonymously, but something in him knows Asahi will guess who it is. Whether he tells Aito or not is his business.And then?Then they live happily ever after. That’s how these things go.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The next year and a half fly by.Medals, brand deals, and a new side gig in modeling make up his professional life.He achieves his dream of Olympic gold alongside Rin, Haru, and Kaede, with his brother, Nao, and Hiyori cheering him on in the stands. Hiyori and their other friends don’t make the cut, but their well-wishes pour in, all torrential happiness, tears, and virtual hugs. Part of him wishes he could have done it on behalf of Japan. A full Japanese podium for the two hundred free would have been a transcendent moment for them and their friends. But doing it for Great Britain is still pretty fucking transcendent.Through the grapevine, he learns of Asahi’s impending retirement, his actual retirement, his pivot to sports commentator, and his overwhelming success as a sports commentator. Ikuya can easily imagine him excelling in the role. He never tunes in to find out.The rest of them enjoy Worlds one more time as a complete unit before others start to retire. Costa Rica serves as the perfect sendoff for Sousuke, Hiyori, and his brother, whose own pivot to coaching for the Japanese team comes as a shock to everyone.“There’s always an open spot here if you want it,” his brother promises. “I know you haven’t said anything about retiring, but…anyway. You say the word, you’re a coach. They’d kill to have bragging rights to Ikuya Kirishima.”“Thanks, Aniki. You do too much for me.”“Too little, too late. I try, though.”“Enough punishing yourself,” he scolds gently. “There’s no point.”“I learned from the best,” his brother teases. “I can hear your eyes rolling over the phone.”“Yeah, yeah. Now go to bed, dumbass.”“Fine, Mom.”Retirement after retirement doesn’t stop him from staying connected with his friends, and vice versa. Some stay in the sports sphere in a non-athletic capacity, and some move on to different careers. Ultimately, he, Rin, Haru, and Kaede are the last ones standing. Ikuya knows he’s got about a year left in him at most - he refuses to go out on a low note, so he listens to his body and follows its lead.His personal life continues to be fulfilling. He has a lively social life, close friends, and still loves the city he’s come to call home. One thing that starts to get old, however, is the casual dating thing. Technically, he’s been single his entire life, and the older he gets, the stronger his desire for physical and emotional intimacy becomes. As the itch grows, he starts using his go-to dating app as a means of seeking something long-term. There are first, third, fourth, and sometimes even fifth dates, but nothing sticks. Though it can get frustrating and discouraging, he doesn’t give up.He’ll find his person. They’re out there.One gray, drizzly Monday afternoon, Ikuya meets Alex.They don’t meet online. Ikuya would go so far as to call it a meet-cute. There’s a coffee mix-up and a polite introduction via the names scrawled on their respective cups. Then there’s a suggestion of real coffee, somewhere else, together.Barf.As tooth-rottingly cute as Ikuya claims their meeting is, he’s secretly thrilled to have a rom-com-worthy story to tell his friends. And it only gets better from there.Alex is a fucking prince. Ikuya feels close to him right away. He listens to stories about Ikuya’s past with more empathy than anyone he’s ever met, and validates his feelings in a way he’s never experienced. Alex meets him halfway, sharing his own story of a difficult childhood and parents he hasn’t talked to in years. They become exclusive incredibly fast. Some might say too fast, but Ikuya knows himself and what he wants. Why wait around?He’s incredibly thoughtful. Right down to Ikuya’s violent hatred for milk, there’s no detail he doesn’t remember. He makes grand gestures, too. Ikuya’s personal favorite is when Alex surprises him with a weekend in Scotland. They stay in a beautiful hotel right outside one of the country’s Dark Sky Parks, only a short walk from some of the best stargazing in the UK. They go during peak meteor shower season - he’s more than a little familiar with Ikuya’s love of shooting stars.Oh, and the sex is un-fucking-believable. They fuck a lot, swinging wildly between emotional and hot and heavy - either way, it’s always passionate and intense. Sorry, Thirst Trap Nerd, there’s better - way better - dick out there, and it’s all Ikuya’s.Ikuya is in heaven, and more than a little sure he’s found his person. One of the scariest things he’s ever done is tell Alex he loves him. He’s been in love, but never said the words out loud. For the first time in his life, Ikuya has found someone worth putting himself on the line for. Part of him is prepared for rejection. That’s simply how he’s built. But his risk pays off spectacularly, and suddenly - finally - he’s in love with someone who loves him back.“That’s pretty fast,” Haru observes one night while they’re on a video call. “Not your usual timeline.”“Well, we’re not all you and Rin,” he replies defensively. “Not everyone has a will-they-won’t they thing for half their lives.”“True,” Haru concedes, “but take Sousuke and Makoto, for example. They’re an obvious match, and they’re still dancing around each other.”“Why does everyone have to be the same?” he asks, feeling himself getting annoyed. “Can I not have my own thing? Can’t you just be happy for me?”“Sorry,” Haru backpedals quickly. “You’re right. And I am happy for you. Rin, too. Keep us in the loop, okay?”There’s still something in his voice Ikuya doesn’t like.“Sure,” he agrees anyway. “I’ll keep you posted.”His brother’s response is uncomfortably similar.“That all sounds amazing,” his brother allows, “but like…three months after meeting him? You don’t have to fast-track a relationship, Ikuya. It’s not like there’s some kind of timeline you need to catch up to.”“Seriously? Why can’t anyone just be happy for me?” he grouses. “Everyone else gets their happy ending, but when it’s me, it’s suddenly a problem?”“No, no,” his brother reassures him, “I’m happy for you. Really. Maybe I’m just being a protective older brother. That’s probably what it is.”“Yeah, I get it. Just…trust my judgment, okay?”“Of course. And you don’t stop calling, okay?”Why would he do that?
“Of course I won’t.”“Good.”The first sign of something wrong comes one month after that phone call.If he hasn’t stayed over, Alex usually comes by with coffee on Saturday morning. One Friday night, Ikuya tells Alex he has an extra practice early the next morning, so he won’t be home. When he gets back from practice in the early afternoon, Alex is waiting outside. That in and of itself is strange - that’s a long time to wait for someone. It’s a detail that doesn’t occur to Ikuya until later. In the moment, he’s too preoccupied with Alex’s accusation that he never mentioned having practice today. He insists he did, but Alex won’t budge. After some back and forth, Alex says he doesn’t have to lie - it’s not a big deal that he forgot to tell him, but he wishes Ikuya would just admit it instead of trying to convince him he did. They get past it, but the interaction leaves Ikuya shaken and wondering if he really had forgotten to tell him.Gradually, the accusations pile up. Ikuya is constantly doubting himself, unsure if he’s remembered things correctly or if he’s an honest-to-god asshole. He sure starts to feel like one, especially after Alex informs him he’d missed drinks with some friends he wanted Ikuya to meet after promising he’d be there. There’s no record of it in his text messages, but Alex won’t budge from his assertion that Ikuya knew the who, what, when, where, and why it was so important to him.When he finally does get drinks with said friends, Alex accuses him of flirting with one of them right in front of him. Ikuya doesn’t even remember his name. When he admits that in hopes of convincing him he wasn’t flirting, it gets so much worse. Suddenly Ikuya will flirt with anyone - since he doesn’t care enough to remember names, it could have been anybody, right? Then there’s the double whammy of Alex being offended that Ikuya forgot his friend’s name. No matter how Ikuya approaches it, he just can’t get it right.It starts happening around friends. Alex knows Ikuya worries about pushing people away, and that he’s done it before. When Ikuya confessed those insecurities to him, he had been so understanding and validating. Cut to the present, when they’re out to brunch with some of Ikuya’s friends, who he hasn’t seen much of lately outside of practice. He apologizes for being so absent - his friends are wonderful about it and say they only care about his well-being. Seconds later, Alex jokes that if Ikuya keeps it up, they’re going to find someone cooler who actually wants to hang out. His friends don’t take it as a joke. They forcefully disagree, which Ikuya appreciates, but he’s freaking out on the inside. What if that actually happens? People say a lot of things - promises of friendship don’t always last, especially if one of the parties is actively shunning their role. He knows that better than anyone.English isn’t Ikuya’s first language. He’s fluent but not perfect. Alex starts to nitpick his little mistakes and suggests he take an ESL course. It irritates him when he calls his friends and family and communicates in Japanese, which makes no sense - why wouldn’t they communicate in their own language? It bothers Alex that he can’t understand anything. How can he learn anything about Ikuya and his home life if Ikuya stonewalls him with a language barrier? Whenever he speaks Japanese or makes an error in English, shame pours in on all sides. He’s unintelligent, he doesn’t fit into the culture here.His shame has him withdrawing from his friends and family. Friends like David and John stick by him, though he starts to feel like it’s more out of pity than anything. The real distancing happens with his friends back home - and his brother. He only calls when Alex isn’t around, and as time goes on, he’s around more and more, until he’s there almost all the time.“Hi, Aniki.”“Hey, bud. Long time no talk.”“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been so busy with practice it’s hard to find the time,” he lies - half his life has been lying. There’s nothing attractive about a liar.“You must be, since you’re still killing it in competition,” his brother compliments him, though there’s doubt in his voice. Maybe Ikuya’s swimming isn’t up to his brother’s standards.“Thanks.”“How’s life outside swimming?”“It’s fine. The usual. Nothing exciting to report.”There’s no way he can tell him about what’s really going on. He’d be disappointed in him for retreating into himself again after all his help.“Alright. How about Alex? How’s that going?”“Good. He’s actually coming over, so I should hop off soon.”“Ikuya…” his brother hesitates, “are you okay? Seriously.”“Me?” he asks, like his brother would be referring to anyone else. “Of course. Everything’s good. Don’t worry about me.”But of course, his brother still looks worried. After all these years, Ikuya is no less of a burden than he’s ever been.“I can visit,” his brother offers. “It’s been a while. How about it? Don’t make me use my spare key,” he jokes, though it doesn’t sound like one.The key he’d given Alex is jingling outside the door, which means he needs to get off.“Maybe,” he replies evasively. “Sorry, I need to go. I’m meeting up with some people.” False - he hasn’t met up with anyone in over a month.“Wait, Ikuya - ”“Sorry, Aniki. Love you.”Just before Alex comes in, he smacks the end call button at light speed.The first time Alex hits him, he’s in shock. Alex immediately apologizes and says he doesn’t know what came over him. He says he’ll never do it again, and can Ikuya ever forgive him? And of course Ikuya forgives him, because everyone makes mistakes. After that, things improve drastically. It’s like they’re back at the beginning when everything was beyond amazing. The relief is overwhelming.It doesn’t last. They descend into the same dynamic, and the blame is on Ikuya - if he’d simply listen, Alex wouldn’t have to remind him of everything all the time. When Ikuya finally finds it in him to push back, he’s rewarded with a black eye and another apology, this time with the promise that Alex will go to therapy for whatever’s going on with him. It’s likely some deep-seated issues from his parents, he says. Given his childhood and current estrangement, it’s completely understandable.Excuses are made to his friends and teammates. There’s skepticism in their acceptance, but they ultimately take him at his word. There really is nothing to worry about. Therapy never happens - it doesn’t need to, because things calm down following the incident. Things are good, and Ikuya’s happy.“Man, it’s been what - three months?” Rin’s mental math is correct. Those three months were very much by design.“Yeah, it’s been so busy. You and Haru have a lot of extra time now, huh?”“Please, like I’ve been able to get him out of the water,” Rin complains. “And I’ve got investors up my ass.”Since retiring, Rin’s gone the entrepreneurial route, easily launching a sportswear line that gained immediate traction in name recognition. Haru throws up the occasional Instagram post for some product he doesn’t give a shit about and rakes it in. Ikuya can tell they miss the circuit. But two things can be true, and they also seem to be enjoying life as retirees.“Sounds like a good time.”“I bitch about it, but we’re actually really happy. You’ve got to be retiring soon, right?”“Yes,” Ikuya admits for the first time. “At the end of the season.”He hasn’t told anyone outside his team and coaches. Oh, and Alex. Alex is thrilled - now they can spend more time together.“Any ideas about what you’re going to do?” Rin asks. “Think you might come back here?”“No,” he replies on autopilot. There’s no way he could leave. “I’m staying here. I might coach. I’ve got the modeling, which is humiliating. But whatever, it’s money.”Except he barely has modeling. Alex thinks it’s gross for him to be exposing himself like that. His body isn’t for sale, he told him. Ikuya agreed - it shouldn’t be on display for the whole world. So he’s unloaded most of his deals, much to their disappointment. At least the offers are still open if he ever really needs the money.“Well, you could always come back here and do both. You could bring your boyfriend?” he suggests. “How’s that going, by the way?”Why is everyone so interested? He’s told them time and again how great things are. And it’s true. Things have been back to normal lately. Everything is as it should be.“Good. Really good. He’s really stuck by me.”“Glad to hear it. You know you can always pick up the phone if anything’s wrong, right?”“Mhm,” he hums in noncommittal confirmation. “Thanks. I should probably go - got practice in an hour.”He doesn’t.“Word. Let’s not make it three months next time, okay?”“Yeah, for sure.”“Awesome. Stay happy, okay?”The way he says it makes Ikuya feel exposed. Embarrassed. Like Rin doesn’t believe he’s happy. What does he know? He is happy right now.“Will do.”Only he doesn’t stay happy. When things are good, they’re extraordinary. It makes up for the occasional bruises that become less occasional as time goes on. Somehow, his swimming doesn’t suffer - but his friendships do. He distances himself from them so he doesn’t have to devise increasingly unbelievable excuses. The water becomes a lonely place again, and so does his life. Video calls with his friends cease entirely. He talks to his brother as infrequently as possible - he has his own life, and constantly coming to Ikuya’s rescue shouldn’t be the priority it once was. It’s not long until those stop, too.The good times lessen, and the bad times…the bad times are most of the time. Ikuya retires quietly, unable to swim without alarm bells going off when people see the mottled purple and blue canvas of his skin. Team management gives him a few months off to make a decision about coaching. During that time, everything goes to shit. A hand held on the burner of an electric stove brings him to the emergency room. A hit to the mouth splits his lip and earns him an unbecoming set of stitches. A broken rib has him housebound for at least a week.Ikuya tries to break up with him. He tries. But it’s always him running from his flat, and he can’t just couch surf, right? There’s no one left he could ask. Coming home with his tail between his legs becomes a tradition, as do Alex’s endless promises to do better. There’s no way out. This is his love story - not only was he not meant for someone like Asahi, he wasn’t even meant to find the kind of happiness Asahi found.Sometimes, Asahi will pop into his mind unbidden. When he does, Ikuya allows himself exactly one minute to fantasize about what life would be like in a marriage like his - to him. Those single minutes are a reprieve. A sad, pathetic, nearly decade-old reprieve.Getting choked out trumps the bruises and scars on his hand and lip that will never disappear. The absolute terror of being unable to breathe, of being sure he’s going to die - they’re so much worse than losing consciousness. Alex doesn’t apologize this time. He leaves Ikuya on the kitchen floor, coughing and clutching his neck. Water does little to calm the burning in his throat or the vomiting that follows. The red welts on his neck will become bruises he can’t explain away. There’s no way he can leave his flat looking like this, so he curls up on the bathroom floor and cries. Crying hurts - like, physically hurts. His throat can’t support the air needed. He lies there, coughing and crying and throwing up until -Knock.Once, twice, and then a key in the lock - is he back already?“Ikuya?”No. Really? No. He can’t see him like this. Why is he here? Why didn’t he tell him?“You there, kid?” his brother calls from the room where Ikuya was sure he would die hours before. Then, to himself, “And this is why you text first, dumbass.”Footsteps come closer, closer, closer, inches from the bathroom and Ikuya’s shame. He closes his eyes when his brother appears in the doorway, pretending he doesn’t hear his “Oh my god” and “What the fuck” and repeated “Ikuya!” The hug, however, he does respond to. He clings to his brother and cries, saying nothing because he physically cannot speak.“Aniki,” is all he can rasp out through the sandpaper of his throat. “Aniki.”Being taken care of has become so foreign, so unfamiliar, he has to force himself not to reject it. He feels so small. It’s like being a child all over again, only infinitely worse. They go to the emergency room, where he stays overnight. Apart from seemingly urgent phone calls, his brother doesn’t leave his side. Ikuya sleeps when they come home - his first real sleep in a long, long time. The only time his brother leaves the flat is when he hears another set of keys outside his door. At the sound of his brother’s exit, Ikuya is suddenly awake, alert, and terrified. It’s not until he comes home that Ikuya can go back to sleep.Three days after his brother’s arrival, Ikuya is physically well enough to sit down and talk.“How long?” his brother asks.“A year.” Answering as fast as possible is a conditioned response meant to avoid unavoidable consequences. When he realizes what he’s revealed as a result, he swears to himself it won’t happen again. No one can ever know what really happened here. “They can cover these with makeup, right? Or photoshop?” he gestures to his collection of scars. “Like, at photoshoots.”“What? Ikuya, that’s - never mind,” his brother cuts himself off. “Yes. Of course they’ll be able to.”“Okay. Good. I’m sorry,” he says. His lower lip trembles. “You came out for my birthday, right? And now you have to deal with this.”One of the worst moments of his life is watching his brother cry because of him. A whole-ass fifteen hours on a plane, only to find his failure of a brother on the bathroom floor. He’s fallen so fucking far.“I should have come out here a long time ago,” his brother says, not bothering to wipe his tears away. “I knew something wasn’t right, and - fuck, I said I’d be there. I’m so sorry, Ikuya.”“Please don’t be sorry,” he begs - he can’t always be his brother’s responsibility. “This isn’t something to be proud of. If I’d tried harder - ”“No.”“No?”“No. I’m always proud of you.”“Sure,” he snorts. “Especially when I’m half dead on the bathroom floor.”“I’m serious, Ikuya. Believe me - there isn’t a single second I’m not proud of you.”Ikuya doesn’t believe it - but he’ll try.All he’s ever done is try.Ikuya’s thirtieth birthday is marked by his permanent return to Japan.There’s nonstop planning in the month leading up to his departure. His brother stays with him the whole time, supporting him every step of the way. Coaching for Great Britain is rejected in favor of Japan, and he leaves the British Swimming Federation a decorated, celebrated athlete. They tell him he has an open invitation to return whenever he wants, and he thanks them profusely. There’s no need to mention he’ll never be coming back. Ever. The United Kingdom is ruined for him. It’s a miracle the rest of Europe still holds any interest.His brother takes care of the Japanese Federation end of things. The off-season’s just begun, so Ikuya will have some desperately needed time off to reacclimate before entering the new phase of his career. Incredibly, his modeling deals do want to continue their partnerships with him - scars and all. Makeup and photoshop really are magic, it would seem.Oddly enough, he never hears from Alex again.“Isn’t that strange?” he asks his brother one afternoon. “He had the spare key and everything. Huh. We should have changed the locks. I wasn’t thinking. Did he ever stop by when I wasn’t around?”“Nah,” his brother replies. “Never saw him.”“Really?” He shows him a photo of Alex on Instagram. “You never saw him?”His brother smiles, all teeth and signature laissez-faire charm.“Never.”Apartment hunting overseas is difficult, but they manage to find a nice place in Shinjuku within walking distance of his brother. They ship his things ahead of their departure, and then…then it’s the end. The shameful end of Ikuya’s once happy, shiny new life in a country worlds away from home. In his mind, he’s leaving in disgrace. Facing his friends back home - no, he doesn’t need to worry about that. They aren’t even his friends anymore. He made sure of that when he pushed them away.“They are your friends, Ikuya,” his brother tries to convince him. “I was planning to surprise you for your birthday anyway, but they practically begged me to go sooner. I hope it’s okay - I let them know you’re coming home.”Ikuya blanches at his brother’s admission. They’ll see him, they’ll see his scars, and they’ll know. They’ll know how far he’s fallen; what an abysmal failure he is. His personal life is in tatters. How many times has he had to be saved? He’s about to be thirty - a thirty-year-old who’s needed saving time and again throughout his life.“Okay. Who?”“Not everyone. Rin and Haru. I figured the rest of them could find out on their own.”“Not Hiyori?”His brother raises an eyebrow. “When was the last time you two really talked?”“…Costa Rica.” The Olympics had mainly been about Kaede. Their friendship fizzled long before he ever met Alex.“No need for him to know, then.”The day before they leave, they celebrate Ikuya’s thirtieth birthday. It’s a quiet affair - they order takeout and watch movies in Ikuya’s nearly empty flat, a last hurrah that’s anything but. In a turn he never would have expected, John and David show up to celebrate and see him off. They’re so kind, kinder than someone who jilted them a long time ago deserves. Despite the catastrophe that is his life, Ikuya enjoys himself. He hasn’t enjoyed himself since - since he can’t remember when. It’s a nice sendoff.Then it’s bon voyage to Great Britain. May they never meet again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
In the five years Ikuya spent in London, he never went back to Japan.Coming home is a culture shock. Somehow, even though he’d only spent one-sixth of his life somewhere else, he finds himself a stranger in his own country. Life didn’t stop because he left - the world kept turning, and everything that would have felt gradual feels like a time skip in a TV show.Days after he’s settled into his brand-new splurge of an apartment, a knock comes at his door.“Ikuya!”Being pulled into a bear hug by someone who isn’t his brother is strange and uncomfortable. But Rin is so excited. So he lets himself be embraced without protest, followed by a mellower but no less warm hug from Haru.“Man, are we ever fucking happy you’re home,” Rin tells him. “When Natsuya told us - we just really, really missed you.”“We did,” Haru says. “It’s great to have you home.”Ikuya nearly collapses in tears. Even after being ignored for a whole fucking year, they still want him around. He doesn’t deserve it, but he’ll take it.“So, Kirishima coach number two,” Rin starts, “you had us worried for a minute there.”“Rin. Don’t pry.”“I’m sorry,” Ikuya cuts in. “I wasn’t…I was just going through some stuff. You know how I can get.”He knows he’s a terrible liar, and that the scars on his lip and hand tell their own story. The bruises and claw marks on his neck aren’t even fully faded. Of course they know he’s avoiding something far more serious. Maybe he’ll tell them one day if they decide to stick around.“Nothing to apologize for,” Rin replies, and Haru nods in agreement. “We’re not going anywhere.”Ikuya stares into his tea. “Thank you. Do, um - does anyone else know? I know my brother only told you two, but…”“No, it’s just us,” Haru assures him. “But when you do decide to tell everyone else, they’ll be thrilled. You come up in conversation all the time. They’ve all missed you as much as we have.”“That’s - okay. I’m glad to hear it.”He can barely function around his closest friends. How is he going to handle a large group? It may be a while before he’s ready for that.“You’re still modeling, right?” Rin asks suddenly. “I know you were over there. How about here?”“That’s the plan. Part of it, anyway. I’d stopped for a while, but there’s still interest.”“Then you’ll do it for my company?”“Don’t phrase it like that, Rin,” Haru admonishes his husband. “Like you’re volunteering him.”“No, it’s fine.” It’s more than fine. Being wanted in any capacity by the people he thought would hate him is an incredible feeling. “I’ll do it. Good opportunity to get back into it.” Safe, more like it. Doing something Alex wouldn’t let him do with their support will make it a hundred times easier. “Thanks.”They catch up for a while longer - or rather, Ikuya listens to Rin and Haru’s stories from the last year while volunteering none of his own. They don’t press him on it or try to get it out of him with leading questions or roundabout tactics. He asks them all sorts of questions about them and everyone else. The one person he doesn’t ask about - and the one person they don’t bring up - is Asahi. For Ikuya’s sanity, that live wire absolutely must remain untouched.“You’re not going to fall off our radar again, Kirishima,” Rin promises before they go. “Haru and I will make you wish you never gave us your address.”“He’s trying to say we’ve got your back,” Haru translates for his eternally dramatic foil. “You can count on us.”If they don’t leave in five seconds, he’s going to start crying. As it is, he’ll be crying the second the door’s closed.“Thank you. And I - I missed you both. A lot.”Rin’s razor-sharp grin widens. “Aw, look who’s getting sweet in their old age!”“Shut up,” Ikuya laughs, though a humiliating crack betrays his extreme emotion. “I’ll see you soon?”“You won’t be able to get rid of us. That’s a threat, by the way.”Haru rolls his eyes and smiles kindly at Ikuya as the door closes behind them.When he’s sure they’re gone, he falls to the floor and cries.Slowly, carefully, steadily, Ikuya eases into his new life in the place he used to call home.Having Rin and Haru back in his life is good for him. They still know nothing about his life after the phone and video calls stopped, but they never press him for details, and incorporate him into their life as a regular fixture. As far as his other friends go, he’s still not ready. If they’ll have him, he’d like to re-people his life gradually instead of all at once. For now, he’s just trying to remember what living outside the shadow of constant fear and danger is like. Rin, Haru, and his brother all swear up and down that everyone will be overjoyed when he’s ready to reach out. Only time will tell if that’s true, or if they’re just trying to make him feel better.In the months before his new job begins, he picks up modeling again. As discussed, his first - and most consistent - gig is with Rin’s athletics brand. The set is safe, and no one so much as references his scars. He suspects they’ve been instructed - threatened - by Rin to ignore them. Other brands mention them in makeup, making him enormously grateful for Rin.Settling in is one of the few easy things about coming home. His apartment is obviously different from his old flat, but it’s no less beautiful. Knowing he’s six thousand miles from Alex is an unspeakable relief, as is knowing he’s within walking distance of his brother and one train stop from Rin and Haru. Even though his ex can’t touch him here, safety becomes his number one priority. He makes sure no one could possibly get in without him knowing - a security system, as well as a smart lock with a biometric sensor are installed, as well as an SOS feature for his phone.No one gets in without his permission. The only exception to the rule is his brother, who he programs into the lock and sets as his SOS contact. At first, he’s hesitant - his brother has been saving him for years, and burdening him with Ikuya’s paranoia feels childish and clingy.“Why? It should be me, right?” his brother insists when he expresses his guilt. “Who else would it be?”“I - yeah, there’s no one else,” he replies miserably. “There’s no one.”“No, Ikuya, that’s not what I meant.” His brother sits on the couch beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “This past year, I knew - I didn’t know, but I knew, and all I did was let you hang up. Ikuya - “ oh no, is he going to cry again? “ - when I got there, I thought I might be too late. And I only went for what? Your birthday? I should have been on a plane the second you stopped calling.”He doesn’t want to think about that night. He doesn’t want to think about that part of his life, so of course, it follows him through every second of every day.“I don’t want you to volunteer for this out of guilt.”“I’m not volunteering,” his brother shuts him down, “I’m literally begging you to let me be there for you.He supposes it doesn’t matter whether he’s trying to make him feel better. Really, who else can Ikuya trust? Only one person knows everything, and even he doesn’t know the half of it.“I guess I can be benevolent, then,” he concedes with a small smile. “Thanks.”“I’m so lucky to have a benevolent overlord for a little brother.”Some old habits he doesn’t associate with Alex remain. For example, no one could ever accuse Ikuya of being a good cook. He eats healthy and stays in shape, but his meals are rarely homemade. One aimless, empty Wednesday night in late May, he goes for a walk. Soba is calling to him, and he must answer. There’s a place he likes a few blocks from his apartment that he’s begun to frequent, hidden in the shadow of a building he’d nearly rented an apartment in. He pays for his food and re-emerges into the warm spring air - he’ll take this over rain and fog any day.His phone dings with a text from his brother. Because people go into phone-induced trances when they text, he stops right in the middle of the sidewalk to reply. His eyes are glued to his phone when someone bumps into him, knocking his phone and soba to the ground.“Oh my god, I’m so sorry - ” Once upon a time, Ikuya’s knee-jerk response would have been irritation and possibly a cutting remark. Now he’s a frantic flurry of apologies. He crouches down to grab his things as quickly as possible, as though not doing so would land him in a world of hurt. “I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I’m so sorry.”“No, that was totally my bad, let me - ” The person kneels beside him and hands him the bag with his dinner.“Thank you, I’m sorry - ” he stops short and almost drops his dinner again when he finally looks up. Amethyst eyes meet his, wide with the same shock Ikuya feels.“…Ikuya?”No. Please no. Not here, not now, not yet, not ever. For a moment, he thinks he might actually forget how to breathe. Only the mortification of doing nothing at all gets him to stop staring like a lunatic and through the next breath.“Asahi. Hi.”Asahi is giving him a run for his money with the staring - he looks like he’s seen a ghost. Then Ikuya remembers the unsightly scar on his bottom lip, and a new, unique kind of shame comes flooding in, adding to his ever-growing pile. Running isn’t an option, though he considers it. Finally, after a brief silence that lasts lifetimes, Asahi speaks.“Holy shit - sorry, that’s - hi?”He stands up and holds his hand out to help Ikuya up. For some reason Ikuya can’t fathom, he takes it. It’s warm. The urge to run is still unbearably strong, but another conflicting urge to stay where he is comes out on top. Now, if only he could come up with literally anything to say.“I didn’t know you were back,” Asahi says. “I - no, I mean, why would I? Sorry, that was a dumb thing to say.”“No, it’s okay. I’m retired, so…” he trails off because he has no follow-up. Nothing but failure he can’t even admit to his closest friends, never mind Asahi, who’s been everything and nothing to him for nearly twenty years.“I heard. I just…yeah. Well, uh. Welcome back?”The drive to hate him is conspicuously absent. There’s so much - Asahi is no longer the only stranger in his life. He and Aito are merely two of many. Ikuya is the stranger in his own new life. In everyone’s lives. All he can muster right now is embarrassment he does his best to hide.“Thanks. Never know where you’ll end up, right?”Asahi huffs a laugh. “You’re telling me.”He sounds tired, as though he’s lived an entire life in the past three years - but he doesn’t look it. Though Ikuya doubts he’ll ever lose his trademark boyish features, he’s matured into himself. He’s never lacked confidence, but his stance isn’t quite so in your face. It’s calmer now, more self-possessed. Ikuya won’t allow himself any further observation. Nothing good is waiting for him down that road.“Do you live in the neighborhood? Sorry, too personal,” Asahi backs off.“I do,” he replies, thoughtlessly bypassing his own extreme boundaries. “A few blocks that way.”“Yeah? Me too.” Seriously? Come on. “Right there, actually.” He points to the building next to the restaurant - the one Ikuya had come this close to living in. “So…welcome to the neighborhood, I guess? Unless you’ve been back a while, then - then I don’t know.”“I’ve only been living here about two months,” he says. “Still new.”“Then definitely welcome. Sorry, I’m probably keeping you, aren’t I?”“I should maybe head home,” he agrees, jumping at the out given to him. There’s precious little air here, and he needs to breathe. “Dinner and all.”“Yeah, of course, sorry,” Asahi apologizes again - he’s as bad as Ikuya. “I’ll uh - I’ll see you around. Maybe?”Fucking duh - he’ll see him around whether Ikuya wants to or not. He just had to go with Shinjuku, didn’t he?“Seems unavoidable,” he says, sounding meaner than he intended. “I mean, yeah. I’m sure we will. I - I’m going to go home now.”“For sure. Bye, Ikuya.”“Bye.”Ikuya leaves as quickly as he can without appearing like he’s running, desperate to be in his safe space. But even in his desperation, morbid curiosity compels him to glance over his shoulder, and he nearly trips over his own feet when he sees Asahi hasn’t moved - he’s just staring as Ikuya makes his polite escape. When he realizes he’s been caught, Asahi whips out his phone and makes his own rapid, awkward retreat. In another life, Ikuya would have made fun of him, would have told him what a fucking weirdo he was. Now he’s only self-conscious. His scars, his smallness, the shame that spills from every aspect of his being - there are endless reasons to stare, none of them good.When he gets home, he drops his soba on the kitchen counter and continues to the bathroom, where he gazes into the mirror and traces his scarred lip with scarred fingertips. Never mind that his modeling contracts barely mention them outside of makeup - all he sees is something disfiguring, a permanent, public symbol of his failures. In his mind, it’s the first thing people see.The first thing Asahi saw.Contending with the knowledge that Asahi is his neighbor is difficult in the extreme.In his worst moments with Alex, when he was sure this would be his life, he’d fantasized about Asahi. In the moment, it was a saving grace. He’d never have to see his marriage up close, so what harm could it do? Now Asahi and his marriage live right down the block. Running into Asahi was such a shock, he’d momentarily forgotten his pathetic pastime. But that night, as he lays there in bed, all he can think about is how his coping mechanism has been married for three years now, and how he’ll likely come face-to-face with it on a regular basis.Then there’s the tiny detail of his former friends. The happy couple doesn’t exist in the vacuum of his neighborhood. His entire former network of friends is connected to them. If he was scared to make himself known before, now he’s almost completely unwilling.All this move accomplished was trading one kind of pain and loneliness for another. Inarguably, this is the far lesser of two evils - in the other, he was reduced to a shadow of himself and, most urgently, nearly died. But will he ever get to be happy? For a few years there, he’d come so, so close. He should have known better. No matter where he goes, there is no happy ending for him.So he’ll go without, and hope to make the best of a limited life.Part of that life includes his new position in the Japan Swimming Federation. With his start date fast approaching, he tries to pump himself up - and tries, and tries, and tries. But for all his efforts, he just can’t do it. The closer he gets, the more he dreads it. All that mattered when he accepted the position was having something - anything - to come home to besides the modeling. But now that the reality is staring him in the face, he’s getting freezing cold feet.Both his arrival and departure in the UK were marked by swimming. His five-year descent into ruin was underscored by swimming every step of the way, marking every milestone of his personal life. The end of his swimming career was all but mandated, his hand forced by pain, both physical and emotional. What should have been done with fanfare was instead carried out with a whimper. Swimming is marred for him now, something he ran from and remains intertwined with his terror. Worse, not having anything meaningful to fall back on conjures the familiar feeling of being trapped with no way out.The panic mounts as the days go by, until it becomes almost debilitating. This is his life - until Rin shows up at the eleventh hour with an unexpected offer.“Come work with me.”At this point, Ikuya’s desperation is so strong he has to restrain himself from jumping at an opportunity he knows nothing about.“I don’t understand,” he forces himself to say. “Doing what?”“Look,” Rin moves on to the sales pitch portion of his presentation, “the company’s doing good, but that’s only because it’s still new. I have to capitalize on its success while I can, or else I’m just a flash in the pan like every other failed athlete brand.” Ikuya nods to show he’s following along. “So right now, along with running the fucking thing, I’ve been doing all the brand management. I’m worried that spreading myself too thin will come back and bite me in the ass.”“So…brand management?” he echoes. “But I don’t know the first thing about it. I don’t even know what it is.”“Neither did I,” Rin confesses. “I had no fucking clue how to run a business.”“He really didn’t,” Haru calls from the kitchen. “The stress eating was out of control.”“Oh my god, Haru!” Rin splutters, turning bright red. “You can’t just - ugh, anyway,” he grumbles, “I figured it out as I went - and let me tell you, I pushed my investors’ goodwill to the fucking limit. Paid off, though.”A small spark of…something flares in Ikuya’s chest.“So if I understand correctly,” he checks, “what you’re saying is the company’s doing well, but - ”“But it could be doing great if I could put all my focus on running it,” Rin finishes for him, “meaning there’s not much risk in your learning on the ground. You can be as behind the scenes as you want,” he promises. “Or front-facing. That would be entirely up to you.”Carving out a career away from swimming is so wildly, decadently attractive. He’ll likely never get another opportunity like this, nor would he be brave enough to seek it out himself. Right here, in his friend’s living room, he’s being given an escape hatch from his perceived cage. His heart is screaming yes - but the last time he let his heart lead, he ended up a shell of his former self. Fuck. There’s no way he can do this. Absolutely not.“You can give it some thought,” Rin offers. “No pressure. Let me know whenever. I - ”“Is now a good time?”A wild, excited grin spreads across Rin’s face.“Damn straight.”In Ikuya’s leap of faith, he’d completely forgotten about his brother. His brother, who stuck his neck out for him with the JSF, only to have Ikuya discard his generosity without a second thought. Telling him is terrifying, nearly every word punctuated by an apology. Once he’s finished confessing his crimes, he holds his breath and waits to be reprimanded.“Uh, that sounds amazing?” is his brother’s unexpected response. “Man, I wish I worked with my friends. Text me every time you walk in on Rin cry - ”“Why aren’t you upset?” he can’t help butting in.“Why would I be?” his brother counters, genuinely, confoundingly sincere.“You had to pull a lot of strings to get me the job at JSF,” he explains. “And I’m just leaving you in the lurch a week out. That’s going to reflect badly on you, won’t it?”“Come on, Ikuya,” he groans. “I don’t think you understand just how big a deal you are. I didn’t have to do anything. You could shit in their shoes, tell them you’d see them when you buy the team, and they’d thank you for it.”“That’s…a disgusting image,” Ikuya grimaces. Then, “Aniki, I appreciate you trying to build me up, but you don’t have to pretend for my sake.”“I’m not pretending,” his brother argues. “But let’s forget all that. I want you to have a life outside of swimming. You don’t love it anymore. No,” he stops Ikuya before he can protest, “I can tell. You’ve looked like you're headed to your execution the last few weeks.”Has it been that noticeable? How embarrassing.“Go live your life, Ikuya. You’re allowed to have one.”The second time he runs into Asahi is at the grocery store.Yes, he knows he’s the king of takeout, thank you very much. That’s precisely what brings him to the grocery store in the first place. In the spirit of trying to move on - keyword trying - he’s decided to learn how to cook. Hiring himself as his own teacher is likely the worst move possible, both for his education and his apartment, but he doesn’t want to impose on anyone. So here he is, engaged in a tense standoff with a display of shrimp that really ought to fry themselves.“Who’s winning the staring contest?”A surprised gasp leaves his mouth as he whirls around, only to find Asahi standing an incredibly respectful four feet or so away from him. The small, sheepish smile he’s wearing falls away at Ikuya’s wildly disproportionate reaction.“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”“No,” he replies breathlessly. “That was just me being - ” afraid of his own shadow? “ - never mind. Hi?”“Hi,” Asahi greets him - for real this time - with an awkward little wave. “You trying a new store? I haven’t seen you here before. Not that I’m like, searching for you or anything, I - man, I’m bad at this, huh?”A quiet, unexpected laugh pushes past Ikuya’s defenses. “I’m trying a store, period,” he admits. “So far it’s not really working out for me.”“Still not into cooking?” Asahi asks. “That’s commitment.”“No time like the present.” He looks down at his empty basket. “Uh.”“Not that I’m judging or anything, but…do you want some help?”No, no, he does not. There are other grocery stores in the neighborhood - now that he knows Asahi comes here, he can avoid it at all costs.“Yes, actually,” is his fucking traitorous, out-of-nowhere response. “I’d appreciate it.”And that’s how he finds himself walking the aisles of the first grocery store he’s been to in years alongside the one person he most wants to avoid.“How are you settling in?”“Not bad. Kind of an adjustment after Europe, but I’m getting used to it again.”“I’ll bet,” Asahi says. “Not that I’ve ever been to London, but I’ve…you know. Seen pictures.”“Then you’ve seen more than enough,” he replies, wishing he didn’t sound so bitter. London is only ruined for him. He doesn’t have to rain on anyone else’s parade. “Ah - not that it’s not nice. I wouldn’t take it off the list for a second honeymoon or anything.” As far as running into Asahi is concerned, he’s been lucky. Aito’s been absent both times, kindly sparing Ikuya from his nightmare. But Ikuya can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist. He doesn’t want to ask about Aito directly because he doesn’t want to know, but he can at least slip his awareness into the conversation.“Huh?” Asahi looks at him strangely, an expression swiftly replaced by realization. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”They continue their sojourn through the aisles, their conversation shifting from Europe to the safety of Ikuya’s shopping list. Asahi suggests superior alternatives, and Ikuya follows each one. Asahi was always a good cook, making him a far better resource than any list Ikuya could piece together from a million Google searches.“You’re doing commentary these days, right?” Ikuya asks as Asahi hands him a pack of bonito flakes. “My brother mentioned.”“I am,” Asahi replies. “I retired a little before everyone else. Needed to focus on some other things. But it’s fun getting to talk about something you love every day.”“Sounds nice.” It does. Ikuya doesn’t know what he loves anymore. “Must be good having more time at home, too.”“Uh-huh,” Asahi says into the shelved tofu in front of him. “Nagisa was saying he might want to do it too - but he’s probably already talked your ear off about it.”The sudden, cold awareness and subsequent panic of something obvious and terrifying sets in. Asahi could blow his cover with his other friends. He doesn’t know Ikuya’s been keeping his return a secret from them. Maybe he already has, and they’re all pissed, or worse, hurt. Or, worst of all, he’s already told them…and they didn’t care. Anything’s possible. But if there’s any chance left of his secret remaining that way, he needs to try, and in order to try, he’ll need to reveal something personal that would be difficult for anyone but himself to understand.“About that,” he says nervously, “I haven’t - I haven’t actually told anyone I’m back. I will,” he clarifies, though he absolutely was not going to tell anyone, “but if you could maybe just - keep it quiet? Obviously, Aito knows, but…yeah.”Curiosity and something unidentifiable flickers across Asahi’s features, and suddenly Ikuya’s back to feeling small.“Of course. They won’t hear anything from me.”The audible sigh of relief that escapes him is completely fucking humiliating. “Thanks. I just - thanks.”“Nothing to thank me for,” Asahi dismisses his gratitude as they reach the cash register. “I probably wasn’t supposed to know either.”Ikuya balls his scarred hand into a fist at his side. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” He does mind. He minds a lot.It’s slightly awkward after that. Ikuya pays for his groceries, distracted by a spike in his omnipresent shame. He’d felt motivated when he left his apartment, and now all he wants to do is curl up, take a nap, and get takeout.“I’ll see you around,” he says once they’re outside, his weight already on the ball of his foot to get the hell away. “Thanks for the help. And tell Aito I said hi.” Guess he’s breezed past awareness.“I will. And no problem, really. See you around, Ikuya.”Ikuya doesn’t wait for more. He finishes his one-eighty, ready to make a beeline for his nest when -“I can’t tell Aito you said hi.”He turns slowly back around. Does Aito hate him? Did Asahi tell him about what happened in Belgium? He’s always been honest with the people he loves, so it’s entirely possible.“Okay?”“We’re not together anymore,” Asahi says, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped. “We’re divorced. I’m divorced.”Divorced.In that second, Ikuya’s whole world stops spinning. Wasn’t it only yesterday he was scrolling through photos and videos of two incandescently happy people pledging their undying love for each other? Wasn’t it only minutes ago he was in his flat, crying himself to sleep over his final ending? God, he’s - what is he?He’s staring, is what he is.When he realizes, his world speeds up, and he scrambles for the words he should have said right away.“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”What else can he say?“It is what it is,” Asahi shrugs. “We gave it a go for about two years, and it didn’t work out. You mentioned it a few times, so I thought you should know.”“I don’t know what to say,” he expresses honestly. “I wish I did.”“There isn’t really anything to say,” Asahi says, which is wrong, wrong, wrong - there’s three years' worth of things to say, only Ikuya hasn’t earned a word of them. “Anyway, that’s my story.” He slaps on a somewhat strained smile and straightens up. “I should get going. But, uh - if the kitchen adventures go to shit, you know who to call.”“Oh. Okay. That’s - okay. I will.” Will he?“Cool. Well, bye again.”“Bye.”Ikuya watches him disappear into the throng in the direction of his building, unable to tear his eyes off him or his feet off the ground. He’s jostled back into his body by an impolite passerby, at which point he takes off, nearly running in his haste to be behind closed doors. By the time he’s back in his apartment, he’s out of breath - not from exertion, but because he’s hyperventilating. He goes to the bedroom, where he crawls onto the bed and lies down, hugging his knees to his chest in the fetal position and focusing on his breathing.Asahi is divorced. He and Aito are over. Asahi was married - til death do us part - and now he’s not. None of it makes sense. Ikuya watched as he drifted away from him, watched as Aito became Asahi’s world and Ikuya became a memory. For nearly every excruciating, agonizing step in their love story, Ikuya was there. They were supposed to have an amazing, beautiful life together. Everyone knew that. Now Asahi is thirty-one and a year out from the end of their amazing, beautiful life together. How could everyone have been so wrong?A year ago, when Asahi’s marriage was falling apart, Ikuya was descending into his own personal hell. Not in a million years would he have guessed his sweet coping mechanism was on the other side of the world suffering along with him. What could have possibly happened? Could Aito have…? No, even through the lens of anger and pain, Ikuya had recognized his genuine kindness, unwavering for all the years he knew him. There’s no faking that kind of authenticity for that long. Alex was proof of that - he only made it four months before showing his true colors.Over the years - though he’s fought it tooth and nail - he’d always managed to dredge up his own form of kindness when it came to the two of them. This time is no different, though he doesn’t resist it now. He hopes they at least found some happiness in their short marriage, that they had their honeymoon phase before whatever happened happened. But even if they had, it’s over, and now Asahi lives only blocks away from him.You know who to call.A small spark ignites in his chest, different from when he accepted Rin’s offer. Whereas with Rin he decided to nurse his new little flame, he immediately tries to extinguish this one. People say all kinds of things when they see old friends. Ex-friends, in this instance. Let’s hang out sometime. Text me. We’ll catch up. No one ever really means it.But what if this time is different? Maybe Asahi’s sad. Maybe he’s lonely. Maybe he’s trying to heal. And maybe, just maybe, he sees all those things in Ikuya, too. Who knows? They’re not kids anymore. Forget kids - for someone who should be in the prime of his life, Ikuya hasn’t felt young in a very long time. Judging by how Asahi’s posture changed when he admitted to his failed marriage, he might also feel older than his years.…and maybe Ikuya’s overthinking it. Still -You know who to call.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ikuya’s first week at Rin’s company flashes by in a blur of introductions, tours, and an overall feeling of complete and total inadequacy.What was he thinking? He’s in so far over his head, he’s in the Mariana Trench. Nothing makes any sense. Rin tells him not to worry about it, reminding him over and over that he brought Ikuya on understanding he didn’t know the first thing about anything. Nothing isn’t technically true - he knows how to wear the brand, which he’s agreed to keep modeling. If he’s going to blunder around wasting everyone’s time for who knows how long, then it’s the least he can do.He’s given a gorgeous as hell office he has no business setting foot in, never mind calling his own. A group of people who call themselves his team drop in one by one, explaining what it is they do and how they’ll be an asset to him. They’re lovely and have no idea how unlucky they are to be led by someone like Ikuya.The one thing he does like is the casual culture. No suits, high heels, or standing on ceremony - actually, the whole thing is very Rin. Ikuya had secretly expected Rin to be a tightly wound ball of restless, bordering on stressed energy, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. He’s busy as hell but really owns whatever he’s doing, and always looks like he’s having a good time. In short, he seems to love what he does. You’d have to, to put your livelihood on the line like that, Ikuya supposes. This job is basically a handout for Ikuya, but he hopes he can come to love it even half as much as Rin does. That would mean he was happy. Happy and with some kind of purpose. He hasn’t had either in a long time.He doesn’t bring up Asahi or his divorce. He’s not laboring under any delusion that Rin and all their friends don’t know - they were there for the whole thing, from the wedding to what he assumes was the devastating end. What for Ikuya was an earth-shaking revelation a year after the fact is old news for them. Ikuya’s the one stumbling blindly to catch up on five years worth of memories he’s not part of, featuring friends who likely don’t consider him one anymore. He briefly wonders why no one ever mentioned it in any of their calls, but he’s able to answer that himself. Around the same time the divorce would have been underway, he’d already begun minimizing contact. Of course his brother and closest friends would have been more focused on what the fuck was going on with him than something they knew would bring up painful memories.Besides, his first week on the job isn’t the time or place to kiki with his friend over interpersonal drama. By the end of said first week, his head is spinning so fast he fears it might fall off. He’s stressed and ready to run out the front door - or the back, if he can find one.“You did great,” Rin tells him as they leave for the weekend.“Do not blow smoke up my ass,” Ikuya warns him. “I said five words and came this close to hiding under my desk.”“That’s five more words than I thought you’d say, and you didn’t hide under your desk. You’re not supposed to be good at this, Ikuya,” he reminds him. “You’re supposed to show up and mess around until you are. Oh, and wear the clothes. That’s a big one.”“You could have given my job to anyone on the team. The way things stand, I won’t be alleviating your stress anytime soon.”“Eh,” Rin shrugs, “I’m not worried. My gambles tend to pay off, and I have a feeling you’re more of a sure thing.”A sure thing. Ikuya knows that’s not true. Rin’s gambling on a burden.“We’ll see.”Fried shrimp isn’t working out.‘Not working out’ is perhaps too generous. In truth, fried shrimp simply isn’t. As in, Ikuya has not removed the shrimp from the freezer. What Ikuya is doing is standing in the middle of the kitchen, like a newly woken sleepwalker with no idea where they are or how they got there.He has no fucking clue what he’s doing. Prior to this week, he would have brushed it off as yet another culinary nonstarter, but after five confused, anxiety-fueled days at his new job, it feels like a colossal personal failure. Fail, fail, fail - it’s all he knows how to do, and this is simply the newest addition to his already extensive resume of failures.The longer he stands there doing nothing, the more frustrated he becomes. Why can’t he just fucking do something? Anything - literally, anything. Angry tears spring to his eyes, which only serves to further upset him - he’s a child who gives up and cries before even putting in any effort. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing himself to cut it the fuck out and act like the adult people mistake him for.Alright. The food’s a wash. Doesn’t mean his Saturday’s ruined. He can watch a movie, call his brother, and see - no, his brother deserves a weekend off from him. He could call Rin and Haru - no, Rin’s probably sick of him after a full week of work, and he and Haru need their time together. Okay. No problem. He’ll just…do it alone. No worries. Wouldn’t be the first - You know who to call.No. That will not be happening. Not a chance. Oh, but - what if Asahi’s also doing nothing? Nah. Unlikely. But what if he is? Fuck. Is he really playing with the idea of reaching out to someone who abandoned him? Someone who hurt him repeatedly, caused him more than half a decade of heartbreak, and made a move on him when he finally opened up? He must be a masochist, because the answer is a resounding yes.Asahi’s burned him so many times, it’s incredible Ikuya never deleted his number. Or blocked it. Or changed his own number so Asahi could never reach him again. But no, there it is near the top of his contacts, daring Ikuya to be a complete fucking idiot.He accepts the dare.His grand opener is a hey, sitting lonely at the beginning of a new thread - he’d at least had the self-respect to delete their old one. He puts his phone on the counter and forces himself to leave the kitchen instead of waiting for a reply that may never come. An episode of nothing special distracts him for the next half hour before anxiously returning to the kitchen. He picks his phone up carefully, like it might suddenly grow teeth and bite his hand off, and sees three notifications timestamped two minutes after he texted Asahi.
hey!
what’s up?
how are you?
Ikuya doesn’t know whether to smile, cry, or come to his senses. In the end, he does none of those things, and further reopens their line of communication.i’m goodHe’s not.i’m trying the cooking thing.He’s not.Asahi’s response is quick - Ikuya doesn’t even have time to put the phone down.
uh oh
what happened?
Ikuya laughs and answers with the uninspired truth.
nothing
i made it to the kitchen so that’s progress i guess
Two minutes pass. Two minutes is one hundred and twenty seconds. One hundred and twenty seconds is a lifetime. He’s considering opening the freezer and tossing his phone in with the shrimp when -
want some help?
Ikuya isn’t someone who paces. His anxiety comes in the form of darkened rooms and blanket cocoons - no movement required. Yet here he is, pacing his living room while he waits for the first company he’s had that isn’t Rin, Haru, or his brother. Having his first foray into socializing be with Asahi, of all people, was a fucking insane idea. An idea he’ll likely regret carrying out, but it’s too late now.While he waits, he scans the immediate area for potentially embarrassing items. He’s settled in nicely, but hasn’t done much to personalize the place. The idea of permanence scares him. He wants to be able to pick up and leave if he needs to. Right now, though, the lack of personal effects seems bizarre, like he himself is a blank slate, featureless and uninteresting.Oh well. At least there’s nothing incriminating.His yelp when the bell chimes is one for the ages. What an absolute coward he’s become. Embarrassed as he’s ever been, he opens the door, and - yup, there’s Asahi. The person Ikuya willingly invited over. Of his own volition. Dumbass.“Hey,” Asahi greets him with a small, slightly nervous smile. “Sorry I keep scaring the shit out of you.”“No, no,” Ikuya replies quickly as his face heats up. Off to a great start. “You’re fine. I’m just a jumpy person in general.” They stand there in awkward silence until Ikuya remembers his damaged social graces. “Sorry, come in.”“Thanks.” Ikuya stands aside, and then Asahi is in his space for the first time in almost eight years. “Nice place. I actually looked at an apartment in here when I first - anyway. Weird coincidence.”Ikuya’s eyebrows shoot up. “For real? I almost rented in your building.”“No shit?” Asahi laughs - a real laugh, and in its wake, the unbearable awkwardness starts to melt away. “What are the odds?”“And to think, we could have been roommates.”“I’m the best roommate there is,” Asahi declares. “Well, maybe not the best. But you’d save money on takeout. Speaking of, what’s our mission?”“I had kind of wanted to do fried shrimp, but…yeah. Didn’t really take off.”Asahi’s smile grows, and Ikuya finds himself returning it, though his is far more restrained.“Still your favorite?”“I think so. I’m not sure, honestly,” he admits. “I haven’t had it in years. Maybe I just like the idea of it.”“Then let’s find out.”“Yeah, let’s.”While they defrost the shrimp Ikuya didn’t know he needed to defrost, Asahi shows him how to make tempura batter.“I was surprised you texted,” he comments as Ikuya clumsily measures the flour and cornstarch. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you did. I just wasn’t expecting it.”“I wasn’t either,” is his candid answer. “But - I don’t know. Between work and the move and everything else, I just…”“Wanted to think about literally anything else?”“Pretty much. Not that you’re literally anything else,” he amends as soon as he realizes the implication, “I meant more like - ”“No, I get it,” Asahi swoops in, kindly saving Ikuya from himself. “I’m honored to be your Saturday distraction. I needed one too, if I’m being honest. The apartment feels pretty empty on the weekends.”Right. Up until a year ago, he would have been sharing an apartment. Ikuya wonders if no longer having Aito in his space was a relief by the end, or if he was torn up about it. Who ended it? One of them? Both of them? God, he has so many questions he can’t ask - and now is not the time to be turning them over in his head. Instead, he settles for common ground.“Same. It gets lonely.”“Sure does.”Like Ikuya, Asahi doesn’t ask. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed how Ikuya’s become a shadow of himself, or the physical marks of his transformation. Hell, he even knows Ikuya’s hiding from everyone. Ikuya appreciates him not prying. Once he opens the door to what happened, he’ll never be able to close it again.“You don’t cook, but you have a deep fryer,” Asahi says while the vegetable oil heats up. “That’s such a specific appliance. Make it make sense.”Ikuya instinctively edges away from the hissing, sizzling oil. When he decided on fried shrimp, he hadn’t stopped to consider the high burn risk. Though the oil hasn’t touched him, and he knows he’s a safe distance away, he’s itching to run his hand under cold water.“It’s aspirational. But, uh - do you think you could do the actual frying? I don’t think I’m where I aspire to be yet.”“Sure thing. I think you’ve already got your work cut out for you.” He appraises Ikuya’s progress - if it could be called that. “The next egg’s going to make it into the bowl. I can feel it.”“Shut up,” Ikuya grumbles. “Maybe I want egg on my counter.”“Into the whole DIY interior design thing?”“Might make it my career.”Is it possible for something to be easy and awkward at the same time? Because that’s what this is. The banter is comfortable, a nostalgic echo of how things used to be.There’s no denying, however, that their back and forth is hovering above a sea of estrangement and knowing nothing about each other anymore. Then there’s everything else. A friendship so badly broken its effects were still making themselves known from across the world, a moment and subsequent eruption in a bathroom in Belgium - all gone unacknowledged.But for once since he came back, Ikuya’s having a good time, and he’s not spending another day alone. For now, that has to be enough.“So what is your career now?”“Oh. A mistake, probably. I was supposed to do some coaching for the national team with my brother. I didn’t have anything - a job to come back to,” he corrects himself - admitting he came back jobless is already revealing too much. “Then Rin convinced me to come work with him.”“Really?” Asahi asks, surprised. “So he and Haru know you’re back? No, sorry - that’s not my business.”“It’s okay.” Actually, it’s not okay. It’s annoying how he’s just spilling information he’s not ready to share all over the place. “My brother told him and Haru.”“Got it.” Asahi has no follow-up aside from, “What are you doing over there? I won’t ask how Rin roped you into it. He’s scarily persuasive when he wants to be.”“No shit. And I have no idea what I’m doing over there. Rin keeps telling me it’s fine, but I have literally no idea what I’m doing. I’m trying to make up for it by modeling for them. Ew.” He wrinkles his nose. “That’s so embarrassing when I say it out loud.”“Why? It’s pretty cool,” Asahi says. “I saw your Nike ad a while back. Pretty wild seeing someone I knew on a billboard. Sounds like you’re doing Rin a favor.”In all his modeling exploits, he never considered that his friends back home would see it. In retrospect, it’s obvious. The Nike gig was right after he met Alex, when he was over the moon about finally meeting who he thought was his person. Everything was so exciting then. Now he hardly remembers doing it.“Maybe. We’ll see how it turns - oh, look! I did it!”A single egg sits in the batter bowl, no shell in sight.“Nice! See? I told you the next one was it!”Asahi holds his hand up. It takes Ikuya a beat too long to recognize the prompt, but when he does, they high-five on his achievement with real, genuine enthusiasm.“This is a good omen, I think,” he says, unable to wipe the smile off his face.Asahi’s answering smile makes Ikuya hopeful.“Me too.”Half an hour and one messy kitchen later, the culmination of their efforts sits on the kitchen table. They smell seriously good, and look even better. To Ikuya’s surprise, Asahi also brought ingredients for miso soup, so now they’ve got something resembling a real meal.“Alright, taste test time,” Asahi nods to Ikuya. “Let’s see if they hold up.”Eating under scrutiny isn’t Ikuya’s idea of fun. Being scrutinized by anyone, for anything, makes Ikuya want to run and hide. But the smell of his once-favorite food and the company of his once-favorite person is doing wonders to assuage his fears, so he takes a shrimp and gives his old friend a try. The flavor takes a second to hit, but once it does -“Oh my god,” he moans, “that is unreal good.” He eats another, chewing slowly to savor the taste. “Ridiculous.”Asahi nudges the plate towards him, encouraging him to have more. For a long time, Ikuya’s taken only as much as he could get away with, which was never very much. Being urged to take feels wrong, but the food is so fucking good.“Where do they rank now?” Asahi asks. “Middle, close to the top…?”“Right at the top,” he sighs happily. “I remember why these were my favorite. Are my favorite.”Asahi looks as thrilled as Ikuya feels. “Some things never change, huh?”“I think everything changes. This is still my favorite food. But after - after everything, it means something different.”“What do you think it means now?”“I have no idea,” he laughs. “All I know is I’m relieved.”“Relieved?”“To have it back.” Ikuya pops another shrimp in his mouth. “Makes me want to learn more.”“Good. Want someone to teach you?” Asahi suggests. “I could also just use the company. Uh, not that you’re just any company, but - fuck, I’m so bad at this. Do you want to hang out again?”Ikuya’s heart leaps into his throat. Is this a good idea? There’s so much they can’t talk about. There’s so much Ikuya’s terrified to talk about. This is the person he was in love with and hurt over for years. But they’re not the people they were, and he could really use a friend. Fuck, he needs one. He really enjoyed the whole afternoon, and his hesitant guess that Asahi might also need a friend appears to be true. He should stop overthinking it. Right now works.“Yes. I would.”And just like that, with the least likely person imaginable, Ikuya takes a chance on a new beginning.The start of week two on the job isn’t any easier than week one. The only difference is Ikuya shows up prepared to be up shit’s creek without a paddle and with expectations so low you’d need an archaeologist to dig them up. Those combined powers of mediocrity make his nine-to-five significantly more bearable.Expecting absolutely nothing of himself gives him time to figure out what the company is and what it’s meant to represent. He spends his time observing, first in confusion, then curiosity, and finally, interest. Most of the time, his interest is held by Rin himself. The brand is Rin’s baby, and Rin is such a singular force - his energy is the company’s mission statement.Now if only he had any idea what to do with it. There’s still the issue of him having no clue what his job is, what it means, or how to talk to his coworkers without needing to hide in his office afterward. At least he’s talking to them, right? He’s still stumbling around in the dark, but he’s now in possession of a penlight. It’s next to nothing, but it’s better than literally nothing. For the first time, having no faith or confidence in his abilities is a step in the right direction.“You looked like you were doing okay this week.”“If by okay you mean not drooling like a caveman, then yes, I was doing great.”“That’s all I ask.”“I can’t believe you’re paying me.”Telling Rin about Asahi and their tentative new connection crosses his mind, but he ultimately rejects the idea. That’s the thing - it’s new. He has no idea what it is, or if it even is anything. Given his track record, it could fall apart at any moment. There’s also nothing in his life that isn’t by design. His brother helped him with every aspect of his return to Japan, including telling Rin and Haru. Rin lured him away from a career he didn’t want into a career he’s unqualified for and doesn’t understand. Reuniting with Asahi was by chance, and Ikuya’s decision to reach out was his own, as was agreeing to give whatever this is a try. This…thing is fragile. He doesn’t want outside input influencing him, and the people in his life aren’t known for holding back their opinions. Typically, he would exclude his brother from the list of people he wants to keep in the dark. This, though - this is different.He’ll tell him eventually.So when Asahi texts him on Friday night about that weekend, he keeps it to - and for - himself. Instead of asking what Ikuya wants to try his hand at this time, Asahi tells him he has an idea - and that’s all he tells him. He doesn’t say it’s a surprise, only that an idea exists, and he’ll bring the necessary ingredients.Not being in control makes Ikuya uneasy. Control is what he clings to now. Control over his environment, his privacy, and who he lets close - control guarantees safety, and giving up even a tiny piece is no small feat.He gives it up.This time, he’s expecting the doorbell. He still startles at the sound, but he’s able to keep a cork on the dramatic sound effects.“Hey,” he welcomes a grocery-laden Asahi. “Come in.”Though he’s giving up some control, the invitation still affords him enough to feel safe. Apart from his brother, his space is inaccessible unless he says so.“Hey, yourself,” Asahi says, withdrawing with a smile when Ikuya moves to help with the bags. “I’ve got it. Wait - is it cool if I put these in the kitchen? Sorry, didn’t mean to assume.”“No problem,” he replies with an appreciative smile in return. Being asked feels good. “So, what’s the big secret?”He follows Asahi through his own apartment to his own kitchen, where he watches pieces of a whole he can’t name appear on his own counter.“I feel like I should know what this is.”“I feel like you have three guesses.”“Uh. Udon?” is his first and obviously incorrect guess.“Was it the noodles that gave it away?” Asahi teases. He leans back against the noodle-free counter. “Two more.”“Curry?” is his second, purposefully wrong guess.“Right again, chef. One more.”“Mochi.”“Can’t believe you got it right all three times,” Asahi gasps. “Incredible.”“And we can apparently make all three with five ingredients,” Ikuya says as he studies the sparse selection spread across the counter. “Seriously, you know how big of a disaster I am. What is it?”“Tamagoyaki.”“Really?” Ikuya asks, failing to hide his eagerness. “That was always - ”“Your other favorite?” Asahi proudly completes his sentence. “I know. Felt like a good follow-up, and it’s easy to make. You can show off your egg-breaking expertise. Oh, and no frying,” he adds.Against his better judgment and suspicion that this is just a ploy to get into his good graces, Ikuya is moved by Asahi’s intentional choices. “There’s nothing I don’t like about that,” is as far as he can go without a heightened display of emotion.“Perfect.”Since it’s relatively simple, Asahi is more of a helper than a doer this time around. He puts Ikuya in the driver’s seat and guides him through the relatively simple steps, patient and thorough in his explanations.“Maybe I overestimated it with the eggs,” Asahi observes as Ikuya shows off his nonexistent beating skills. “Breaking was just the tip of the iceberg.”“You say that like there’s a whole world of eggs out there just waiting to be discovered.”“Won’t know until you know, right? Here, like this.” He takes Ikuya’s hand and moves it in wide, shallow circles. “Harder to mess up when your hand’s below the rim. Yeah, not bad.”“Be careful who you insult,” Ikuya advises, “I have a deadly weapon, and I’m not afraid to use it.”“Terrifying,” Asahi says with an exaggerated shiver as he moves his hold to Ikuya’s wrist. Ikuya fights the desire to shake him off. “Okay, you’re good.”For the second time in as many Saturdays, Ikuya remembers cooking is done with ovens - and stoves. What little bravery he has is spent placing an empty skillet on one of the unlit burners. He’s about to make some pithy remark about why he once again can’t be near heat when Asahi relieves him of the need to.“Can you chop the daikon while I take care of that?” he asks, jerking his head toward the pile of radishes sitting farther down the counter. “Oh, also - in case I wasn’t sure you’re never in the kitchen, I noticed you don’t have a pair of these.” Out of one of the plastic bags, he pulls a pair of unused oven mitts and hands them to Ikuya. “Here.”They’re good quality. Ikuya is an established dunce in the kitchen, but he knows when something’s well-made. Asahi didn’t spend money on these, did he? He really fucking hopes not. If he did, Ikuya would hand them right back - groceries are one thing, but gifts are never just gifts. They come with a price.“Are they…?”“I already have a pair I use,” Asahi answers before he asks. “About four too many people thought we needed oven mitts. I set a registry limit, but they couldn’t be stopped.”Well, shit. Ex-husband-adjacent talk isn’t something Ikuya had on his bingo card for today. Even if it was, no amount of advance notice could have prepared him for a retrospective of Asahi’s marriage. Prepared or not, though, he’s dying for details. So, treading carefully, he engages.“Thanks. That’s nice of you. I’m assuming Aito got custody of the other two?” he ventures.To Asahi’s credit, he doesn’t balk at the mention of his former forever. “Happy to help. And yes, they’re with him in Kyoto now.”“Kyoto?”“Ah, right - he was from there. Still from there, I guess, since he moved back after we split up. I think he wanted to be near family.”Thinks? So he doesn’t know. Ikuya doesn’t have the requisite puzzle pieces to understand why he doesn’t.“But you stayed in Tokyo.”“Yup. I got custody of the stuff you got us,” he reveals, bringing Ikuya uncomfortably close to the sun. “I, uh, never got to thank you. I mean, Aito never realized, but I knew it was you. I hope that’s okay.”Ikuya unthinkingly holds the oven mitts to his chest. So much has happened since he sent those gifts, he’d forgotten all about them. They exist in another life. They also sit at the edge of a moment he’s not ready to address, and doesn’t know if he ever will be. He does have manners, though, hard as it is to believe.“Of course,” he says politely. “I’m glad they’re getting some use. At least, I assume they are.”“Don’t worry, they’re in heavy rotation.”“Good.”There’s a pause. Much like back then, Ikuya doesn’t know how to be silent with Asahi - too much exists in the space between them. To make sure the pause doesn’t extend into silence, he clamors for something safe.“I’ll cut it when you’re done,” he offers, craning his neck to look in the pan. He inches closer, but not so close he can feel the heat on his face. “I don’t know how neat it’ll be, but…whatever.”“Whatever sounds good,” Asahi says. “You, uh - looks like you already cut your chopping teeth on that daikon.”“Excuse you,” he sniffs. “My cutting style’s just ahead of the curve.”“Right, right, sorry. You’re a visionary, etcetera.”“Finally, he gets it.”The ease of making the tamagoyaki doesn’t diminish how fantastic it is. Just like the shrimp, Ikuya is immediately reminded of why he used to love it so much. Asahi is as delighted as last time, making Ikuya’s joy a shared experience.“I used to beg my mom to make this on my birthday,” he tells Asahi, addressing the memory with fondness. “She always pretended she wouldn’t, but I knew she’d surprise me with them anyway. It was a nice tradition.”“Sounds like it,” Asahi smiles. His smiles are warm. They were always bright - blindingly so - but now, more than anything, they radiate warmth. For someone who’s been through what Asahi has, it’s remarkable he has so much to give. “Did you make any new traditions in London? I know you weren’t going out for Japanese.”“Not especially,” he hedges. “I went out with friends the first few years.” He omits the year Alex didn’t show up, and his accusation that Ikuya forgot to tell him about it. “My brother came out to celebrate this year, but I…ended up moving back?” he confesses, taken aback by what he’d classify as a major slip-up. “Anyway. I was so busy with the move it didn’t seem important.”“Of course it’s important!” Asahi exclaims. “I - hey - and please just say no if it’s a terrible idea - I know it’s a few months late, but…we could celebrate? You could come over if you want. I won’t make you cook or anything, promise.”Ikuya prods the tamagoyaki with his chopsticks while he considers it. Yes and no are both strong contenders - the only contenders, true, but they’re coming from two very different places. No resides in a place of fear and distrust, while yes lives in his selfish desire to be recognized as a human being. A human being with a birthday. A birthday someone outside the usual suspects wants to celebrate - and months later, at that.“That sounds like fun,” is his final answer, his selfish desire declaring itself the winner. “Let’s do it.”“Awesome. You love milk, right?”“You’re prepared to die, right?”“Rin, I need to take a business class or something,” Ikuya complains midweek. “I have a feeling, or a sense, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but I can’t do shit with it if I don’t have at least some idea what I’m doing.”“Sure.”“Just hear me out - wait, what?”“Sure,” Rin repeats. “This is the first time you’ve shown an active interest in anything since you came home,” he continues, “so do it. We’ll cover it.”“I - thanks. You don’t have to,” he says, hit by sudden guilt, “I’ll get it eventually.”“Ikuya,” Rin pleads, “I say this in the kindest way possible: you need to get a life.”“Ouch.”“I’m serious. Look, I don’t know what happened over there, and you never have to tell us. But it took something from you, and as your friend - not your boss, your friend, Ikuya,” he stresses, “I want to help you get it back, whatever it is. If that means a business class, then sign up for a whole fucking degree.”Ikuya stands there in stunned silence. The burning sensation in his throat is familiar - it’s either tears or vomit, and it’s unclear which one he’ll be embarrassing himself with. This is a gift. A fucking massive, potentially life-changing gift. A gift he can’t hope to repay. He knows repayment is antithetical to the spirit of gift-giving, but man. If a gift of oven mitts makes his skin crawl, this is…what if he chose to look at it from a company standpoint? If he knows what he’s doing, he can do what Rin hired him to do - unburden him. Ikuya can’t unburden him if Ikuya himself is a burden. Plus, until right now, Rin’s never directly acknowledged Ikuya’s tight-lipped attitude around his move. Finally doing his part here could be Ikuya’s apology, both for going dark on them for a year and keeping them in the dark now that he’s back.Christ, what a self-serving contortionist he’s turning out to be.“Then I’ll sign up for a whole fucking degree,” he gives in. “I hope you know I’ll be doing homework in the office.”“Better than hiding under your desk,” Rin fires back. Asshole.“I’ll be doing homework under my desk.”“Touché. Do it anywhere. Hell, do it at my place since you never call on the weekend,” Rin accuses him. “Don’t worry about Ikuya over-saturation, if that’s why. I barely see you during the week, anyway - and Haru doesn’t see you at all. How about Saturday night?”Ah. His skill as a contortionist is already being put to the test. If only he weren’t such a beginner.“This Saturday’s a no-go for me,” he excuses himself. “I…can we do next Friday night?” Holy shit, his days as a contortionist were over before they started.Rin considers him, and for a moment, Ikuya thinks he’s going to press him for a real reason.“Word,” he accepts Ikuya’s non-excuse without question. “Next Friday it is.”“Cool. And Rin?”“Now what?” “Thanks.”Rin positively beams.“Go get a fucking life, Kirishima.”Outside of shock and gratitude around Rin’s second life-altering offer, impatience is Ikuya’s constant companion all week.He’s troubled by how much he’s looking forward to this weekend. Historically, optimism hasn’t worked out too well for him. His good luck ran out a long time ago. So the anticipation and restlessness that follow him at work and home are…scary.He texts Asahi asking what he should bring, to which Asahi replies yourself!He hates how anxious that one word makes him.Objectively, he knows Asahi’s response is normal. It’s Ikuya’s extremely belated birthday, after all. Though Rin certainly has him working the muscle this week, taking isn’t one of his strengths. It’s always been that way. Once upon a time, pride and fear contributed equally to his refusal to take. These days, fear is the sole motivator. Taking from Asahi is especially frightening - he and Rin don’t share the same checkered history.He clings to his excitement as more and more anxiety creeps in leading up to Saturday night. New fears keep springing up, the unpredictability of being in someone else’s home that isn’t Rin, Haru, or his brother’s chief among them. He tells himself that showing up with something will help minimize any power imbalance that might be at play, so he buys a bottle of good Sake. It’s not much, but it blunts his anxiety enough to remember that oh, yeah, he’s looking forward to their plans.When Saturday night finally rolls around, Ikuya and his bottle of sake walk the short distance separating him and Asahi. His apartment hunt was done via every virtual avenue available to him and his brother, so despite having looked at a unit in Asahi’s building, he’s never been there in person. The lobby is similar to his building - clean and modern. The one major difference is the doorman, who Ikuya knows would talk his ear off if he so much as looked his way, which he avoids at all costs. Asahi probably loves him.As the elevator climbs to the fifteenth floor, he closes his eyes and breathes. Inhale - one, two, three, four, five. Exhale - one, two, three, four, five. Again. The doors slide open without a sound on his third inhale, ejecting him into a similarly soundless hallway. The apartments in Ikuya’s building are soundproofed as well - an essential requirement in his selection - but experiencing the total quiet in a strange place is eerie and disconcerting. He hesitates outside Asahi’s unit, hand opening and closing by his side. Why is he so god damn anxious?Inhale - one, two, three, four, five.Exhale - one, two, three, four, five.Knock - one, two.The door opens seconds later, revealing a smiling, cheerful Asahi.“Hey! Come in,” Asahi says, ushering a flustered Ikuya inside before he can issue any type of greeting. “Thanks for coming.”“Hi.” Why is he like this? “Thanks for having me. I, uh, brought this.”He holds the Sake out like a peace offering for a fight they haven’t had, at least not in this decade. The bottle is a solid, grounding weight in his hand, and he finds himself wishing he didn’t have to hand it over.“Shit, thanks. You didn’t have to.”Asahi doesn’t stage any further protest and accepts it graciously, every inch the welcoming host Ikuya has no clue how to be. Still buzzing with vibrant energy, he leads Ikuya to the living room. Part of him expected to see the same clutter that filled Asahi’s apartment in his early twenties. Hoodies and socks crumpled wherever they happened to land after being tossed, an unmade loft bed, and a sink full of clean dishes he was too lazy to put away are how Ikuya remembers Asahi’s pre-Aito space. He has no idea what it looked like once Aito entered the picture.“Learned how to clean,” Asahi says, echoing Ikuya’s observation. “You’re still a better decorator.”“I don’t know. Most of my things are from when I first moved to Europe.” When anything was possible. “Hard to say if I’d be any good at it now.”“I’d bet money on it. Have a seat anywhere, by the way. I’m just - you want something to drink?” Asahi asks as he disappears into the kitchen. “I’ve got water, juice, wine, beer, whatever.”Ikuya takes a seat on one of the two couches and leans back until he’s looking at the ceiling. “Yeah, sure. Wine sounds good.” Then he closes his eyes and resumes his breathing, willing away the tension holding him hostage.“Here you - hey, you okay?”At the sound of his voice, Ikuya slowly opens his eyes to meet Asahi’s concerned gaze. He’s so tired of being like this - he can’t even get it together for something he’s been looking forward to.“I’m anxious.”Asahi’s expression softens in response to Ikuya’s honesty. He sits down beside him, hands him a glass of white - Ikuya’s preferred kind - and takes a sip of his beer. “Any particular reason?”“I don’t go out much. I think I’ve forgotten how.”“I don’t get out much either,” Asahi confides. “Not since…you know. I’ll do it when people shake me down, but I don’t have the same energy I used to.”That’s…sad. Hearing that makes him sad. Even when Ikuya fucking hated his guts, he’d be the first to call Asahi the life of the party.“What about Kisumi?” They were thick as thieves after Ikuya made his less-than-grand exit from their friendship.“Did you know people can get custody of friends in a divorce?” Asahi jokes, though Ikuya hears the hurt beneath it. He would know. He’s been there. “He was closer with Aito by the end.”Ikuya thinks he should probably be fuming right now. Fuming, or reveling in just how big of a bitch karma is. He’s neither of those things. Exhaustion, hurt, and loneliness are all emotions with which Ikuya is intimately acquainted. Right now, all he has for Asahi is empathy.“That’s some bullshit,” he says, happy to hear Asahi laugh in response. “Here’s to a couple of hermits, then,” he toasts, raising his drink to Asahi.“Here’s to a couple of hermits having some fun for once,” Asahi adds, and returns the gesture. They both take comically large sips. “Alright, enough of this sad sack shit. It’s not every day you celebrate the three-month anniversary of your thirtieth birthday.”His second trip to the kitchen leaves Ikuya much happier than the last. The comfort of the couch is no longer cushioning his stress, and the drink in his hand is for sipping and enjoying the taste, not social lubrication. He’s not happy about Asahi’s revelation per se - he’s not happy about it at all - but he doesn’t feel quite so alone.“I should’ve asked if you even like this,” Asahi says upon his return. “Hopefully I’m not totally off base.”He places two bowls on the low table in the dining area, full of something Ikuya can’t see but can sure as fuck smell. Whatever it is, it smells like heaven. It draws him away from the couch and over to the source, which turns out to be -“Katsudon?”“Katsudon,” Asahi repeats as they sit down, watching Ikuya’s reaction with a nervous expression. “Is that cool?”“It’s great,” he assures him. “I’m big on comfort food, in case you hadn’t noticed.”“Yeah, I clocked that too,” Asahi replies. “You can, uh. Do more than look at it. If you want.”“I’m admiring it!” The next second, though, he’s got a piece of pork cutlet between his chopsticks and halfway to his mouth. “But I’ll take it under advisement.” The flavor spreads over his tongue, rich and exactly as advertised - comforting. “It’s delicious,” he tells him. “It’s so, so good. Amazing what you can do without a wild card assistant in the kitchen.”Asahi’s apprehension visibly melts, unearthing a palpable satisfaction. “I don’t know, you’re on your way to food-based excellence yourself. Eggs everywhere are shaking.”“Don’t you mean eggs-ellence?”“Hilarious. I’m cracking up over here.”A remarkably unattractive snort follows the exchange, courtesy of Ikuya. The sound surprises a laugh out of him - like, a real laugh. Peals of loud, honest-to-god laughter fall from his mouth, like a tightly shut valve suddenly burst open. He’s vaguely aware of Asahi staring, but for once, he doesn’t care what someone else thinks. Okay, maybe he does - he cares when Asahi starts laughing with him, and that when their laughter dies down, there’s no awkwardness. They just dig in, basking in good food and what Ikuya would tentatively call better company.“I might be going back to school,” he says about halfway through dinner. “Weird, right?”“No kidding?” Asahi answers with raised eyebrows. “That’s great! What for?”“To figure out what the fuck my job is.” They laugh again, an easy, comfortable thing. “Rin convinced me to. Said I need to get a life. He’s not wrong.”“He’s always had a way with words, hasn’t he?”Ikuya wonders if Asahi sees much of Rin on the rare occasions he does go out, and if Rin ever mentioned Ikuya’s disappearance, even in passing. He wonders, but he’s not sure he wants to know. There’s nothing to be gained in knowing.“He never had much bedside manner,” he agrees. “But he’s got me thinking about it. Sources say my job has something to do with brand management, so…marketing?”“That makes sense. I admire your drive.”Ikuya ducks his head to hide his smile. “We’ll see what happens.”In keeping with the night’s theme of comfort food, Asahi has homemade mochi ice cream ready to go after they finish their katsudon.“I may never eat again,” Ikuya asserts after his third mochi.“Unfortunate, since you’re taking the leftovers with you.”Is the night over? Most likely. They’ve finished dinner and dessert. He’ll of course help with the cleanup, but apart from that, Ikuya won’t overstay his welcome. It’s too bad - he hasn’t had any real fun since his pre-Alex days, and he’d be more than okay extending their night. But he’ll take what he can get, and if this is it, that’s fine.“I’ll help you clean up before I go,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound too pathetically forlorn in his delivery. He starts hauling his creaky self off the floor and reaches for the closest plate. “Let me grab - ”“You’re going?” Asahi asks, shoulders sagging. “No, of course - I’ve held you hostage for, like, at least two hours.”The new, intrusive spark in his chest flares to life. “No, not at all. I just took the whole leftovers thing as - ”“Not a chance,” Asahi grins. “I’m down to keep hanging out if you are.”Again, he’ll take what he can get - and what he can get is more.“Definitely.”Despite Asahi’s insistence that three-month-old thirty-year-olds shouldn’t have to, Ikuya helps with the cleanup. Ten years ago, paper plates and takeout cartons would have been tossed into an already full trash can. Now it’s slightly nicer-than-average flatware and dishes. Were they part of the inanimate object custody arrangement as well? Using remnants of a happier time for Asahi to build happier times for himself makes him feel…not guilty enough to stop.“Want to break out the sake you brought?”Ikuya’s reflexive response is no; he brought that for Asahi. Tamping down that reflex is difficult, but he succeeds because he does want. “Let’s do it.”They return to the couch, where Asahi sets two small glasses on the coffee table. “Down the first one, go easy on the rest,” he instructs. “Hangovers hit different now.”“You’re telling me.”Asahi fills their glasses and holds his up for the second toast of the evening. “To your thirties, and whatever great things are headed your way.”“Likewise,” Ikuya returns. Then, in an uncharacteristic fit of confidence and forgiveness, “And to new friends.”Stepping outside his comfort zone is rewarded with a flash of something terribly vulnerable - something Ikuya understands but can’t name. Then they’re back in the present, and Asahi’s delivering an equally heartfelt, “To new friends.” Asahi throws back his Sake, and Ikuya obediently follows his example. “That goes down easy,” he says appreciatively. “Nice choice.”“I picked up some class along the way.” Ikuya accepts the second glass offered to him. “Bottom shelf izakaya doesn’t cut it after a while.”“Believe me, I know. My coworkers are always trying to go out drinking the second we’re done, and when they actually guilt me into it, they buy the nastiest shit. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you’re not much of a happy hour guy either.”“And have Rin start crying two drinks deep? I’d rather die,” Ikuya deadpans. “Easier to do it at him and Haru’s place where I can leave him with his handler when I’m over it.”He shouldn’t talk like that about one of the few people who’s stood by him. It’s ungrateful. But at what point does he get to experience emotions other than gratitude and guilt? And what would it mean if he did? He’d love not to feel eternally indebted to others. Tonight is freeing because he owes Asahi nothing. The power imbalance he feared is instead equal footing, and everything he says is disconnected from the debts he’ll never adequately repay, all tied up in the mess of his life.“…and after a while, we just expected David to disappear without telling us,” Ikuya explains two drinks in. “How he managed to meet anyone new after a while is a modern miracle.”“Sounds like Kisumi,” Asahi replies, less fond than Ikuya’s warm recollection of David. “And it’s not like we were going out out - I’m talking out for dinner. He had the salaryman market cornered. Aito never stopped being amazed by it, but it got real old, real fast for me.”Again, Ikuya wonders how Asahi really felt about Aito by the end of their marriage, and vice versa. Everything he knows has been shared in asides, little remarks here and there that imply a complete picture but never paint it.“What about Hiyori?”“What about him?”“You guys, too, huh?” Asahi empathizes.Ikuya shrugs. After everything, their non-ending doesn’t occupy much - if any - real estate in his mind. “It wasn’t anything special. We drifted apart. He and Kaede were getting serious and…yeah.”If Asahi catches Ikuya’s wholly accidental comparison, he’s kind - or smart - enough to keep it to himself. “Got it,” he nods. “I had a feeling when you said your brother told Rin and Haru you were back and didn’t mention anyone else. They’ve pretty much disappeared from group get-togethers, so it’s not just you. And uh - I don’t think anyone’s hanging with them one-on-one, if you catch my drift.”“Yup,” Ikuya snorts, “I’m picking up what you’re putting down. I miss my friends in London. The move was so sudden. Most of them are probably wondering where I up and disappeared to.” Horseshit. Truth is, no one cares where he up and disappeared to. Guaranteed. “Or not.”He drains his glass and gives Asahi a thumbs-up before he can even ask if he wants a refill. Asahi tops them both off, and fuck it - starting tomorrow, they’re both temporary residents of hangover city.“You decided to move after your brother flew out?”“Yeah, or - I don’t know if it was really a decision. I just couldn’t stay. There was nothing left for me there.”The brightly-lit warning sign in the back of his mind is frantically pleading with him to quit while he’s ahead. He responds by telling it to shut the fuck up and shut the fuck down. It’s not like he’s baring every inch of his soul. Can he live?
“I don’t love the sound of that,” Asahi frowns. “You leave your mark everywhere you go.”“Maybe we do,” Ikuya allows, absently tracing the raised skin on his lip. “Does it ever feel like too much? Like, I don’t know how much in here is from your marriage, but the things that are - do they leave a mark? Shit, sorry,” he says when he realizes what he’s asking. “That was way too personal.”“It’s really not,” Asahi says, dragging his hand down his face. “No one ever asks. I think they assume I don’t want to talk about it. Aito…I let him take pretty much whatever he wanted. I was so fucking tired by that point. All I wanted was a clean break.”God, he sounds so tired. Ikuya doesn’t feel quite so alone, but in this moment, part of him really wishes he did. He wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone, especially not someone he’s come back around to caring about - if he ever stopped.“I hope you were happy,” he tells him, effortlessly sincere. “For as long as you could be. I’m sorry you - I just really, really hope you were happy.”Asahi smiles, a relief to see. “I think we were. I don’t know, but I’d like to think we were. For a little while, anyway.” He holds Ikuya’s gaze, and Ikuya’s desire to run is nowhere to be found. “I hope you were, too.”“I was until I wasn’t. And after I wasn’t, when my brother showed up - I didn’t belong there anymore. You couldn’t pay me to go back there now. Funny thing is, I have no fucking clue if I belong here, either.”Asahi does the unexpected, then, reaching for Ikuya’s hand and gently running his thumb across his fingertips. The touch is neither a come-on nor a question. It isn’t even his scarred hand, though he knows Asahi must wonder what happened. Nothing is being asked of him, and nothing in him wants to shrink away.“I can’t speak for a whole country, but I know you belong here,” Asahi says. “Whenever you want. You can, like…I don’t know. Watch TV? You don’t even have to talk to me. Just - this is a place to belong.”Overcome as he is, forming sentences is a Sisyphean task, pointless and doomed to fail. Even if he could speak, what would he say? There is a sound trying desperately to break loose, which he swallows for fear of revealing something too raw. Without speech or sound, all he has is touch - a task that should be more impossible than the rest, but somehow, he succeeds. He curls his hand around Asahi’s, and for the first time since he left London, he gives a piece of himself to someone of his choosing, allowing green and living things to grow in his footprints.However faint and distant, life is calling.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The nightmare happens on Wednesday night.There’s no such thing as a clean break, and Ikuya’s break was a fucking mess. Alex’s disappearance left no definitive evidence that he was out of Ikuya’s life. Objectively, Ikuya knows he’s gone. But without proof, without seeing it for himself, Alex is a more corporeal specter than he ought to be. His brother never even saw him. Outside social media, he only has Ikuya’s word and physical condition.He’s not on Ikuya’s mind every second of every day. Some days, he doesn’t think about him at all - on a conscious level, anyway. Everything he’s not addressing is roiling under his skin, actualizing itself in his silence, in his resistance to reconnecting with friends. Ikuya knows his refusal to speak, or put himself in situations where he might be pressured to speak, is holding him back from life’s outstretched hand, waiting to let it take him to parts unknown and no longer known. Since what he’s not saying needs to go somewhere, it only makes sense that his mind is forging ahead and creating a space for him.He wakes with a gasp, covered in cold sweat. The sheets are drenched, rendering them useless. Not that he actually wants to go back to sleep. The details are fuzzy, as they always are with dreams, but they leave feelings, which might be worse. Upon waking, Ikuya is flooded with terror. Terror of being trapped, terror of having nowhere to go and no one to turn to, and terror of dying alone because he’d made sure there was no other way.His first stop after untangling himself is the shower, where he scrubs himself raw, trying to rid himself of a stain he’ll never be able to wash away. He settles for the sweat and grime instead, and though he’s still a wreck when he’s done, at least he’s a clean wreck. The bedding is next, thrown unceremoniously in the laundry basket and replaced by a new set. By now, it’s one in the morning, and there’s no way in hell he’s going back to sleep. All he wants to do is talk to someone - but what would he even say? The idea of calling anyone to tell them he had a bad dream is….yeah, no.He caves within thirty seconds. There are only four people he could call - that’s what his world’s been reduced to - and only one he knows for a fact isn’t asleep.“Ikuya? You okay?”He wants to hang up as soon as he hears his brother’s voice.“I’m fine. I just…I’m fine. Sorry. I know it’s late. We can talk in the morning.”“I’m literally sitting here watching a documentary about bird watching,” his brother says - and yes, Ikuya can hear the clarion call of whatever disease-ridden bird is currently onscreen. “You’re doing me a favor. I need to be saved from myself.”Ikuya laughs, releasing some of the stagnant, stale air in his lungs. “Then you’re welcome.” “This is late for you,” his brother remarks. “Can’t sleep?”“Yes and no. I fell asleep fine. Then I - sorry, this is ridiculous,” he qualifies. “I had a dream, and now I don’t want to go back to sleep.”
The avian background noise goes silent. “Do you remember what it was about?”“Only that I was back there - for good this time. I knew I’d never see anyone again, and I remembered how long life is, and - ” The longer he talks, the more real it seems. His windpipe constricts, and his body temperature rises. “- and no one cared,” he chokes out. “Because I made sure they wouldn’t.”There’s momentary quiet, followed by sounds of movement on his brother’s end. “Do you still like pepperoni?”“Yeah, I - wait, why?” he asks, suddenly wishing he’d never called.“No reason. Can I call you back in twenty?”Fuck, Ikuya’s really put his foot in it now.“No, Aniki, please don’t - ”The line goes silent, and Ikuya swears loudly, filling the empty apartment with his regret and frustration. He could have sat down and watched that same stupid-ass documentary. He could have picked up a book. He could have walked the perimeter of his apartment a thousand times, for fuck’s sake - but no, he had to go be a baby.Oh well. The damage is done. Self-flagellation can come later.His brother arrives exactly twenty minutes later - impressive, considering he’d be late for his own funeral if he could. As expected, he came bearing pizza. It smells like heaven and guilt.“It was just a dream,” he protests as his brother makes himself at home. “You really didn’t have to come.”“You’re right, I didn’t. But consider this: I haven’t seen you in a week, and I wanted to hang out. All you did was give me an excuse. Plus,” he adds, “Nao won’t judge the ever-loving shit out of me for eating pizza if he can’t see me doing it.”Ugh. Whatever. He’s already here, might as well enjoy the company.His brother gets them set up with pizza and soda, which will remain their dirty little secret until the day they die. He appears to be willing to let Ikuya off the hook with his dream and resulting panic attack, but word vomit is rising in Ikuya’s throat, and there’s no way for it to go but out.“How do you know I’m telling the truth?”His brother freezes mid-bite. “Huh?”“About him,” he says, unwilling to say his name. “You never saw him. I’m pretty sure you never even met him through a screen. For all you know, I could have ruined my own life, gotten jumped once I had no one left, and made some shit up because I was embarrassed. How can you be sure I’m not lying?”“Seriously?” his brother asks, putting his pizza back down. “Alright. For argument’s sake, let’s say that’s what happened. Someone happened to break into your apartment and attack you the night I got there. Then what are those?” He looks pointedly between Ikuya’s hand and mouth, explicitly acknowledging the existence of his scars for the first time. “You got jumped three times? You must have been the unluckiest guy in London if you did. And you stopped calling because why - you were too embarrassed to tell me you kept getting jumped?”Ikuya picks at his pizza, feeling too stupid to look at his brother. “You never know,” he mumbles. “I really might have been the unluckiest guy in London.”“Also, you must be crazy if you think I didn’t stalk this guy’s Instagram a long time before you showed me,” his brother says. “You were in a lot of those pictures, Ikuya. What pisses me off is that I didn’t notice how much you were changing. I didn’t take a closer look until you moved back. I would look at them when I couldn’t get in touch anymore and think, ‘Oh, he’s fine, he’s in pictures and he’s smiling.’ Meanwhile, you looked…smaller, I guess? in every single picture.”Smaller. An apt description since that’s precisely how he felt - how he still feels.“I know he can’t touch me here,” he acknowledges, abandoning his plea of insanity, “but when I woke up tonight, it seemed so real. Like he could show up, and I would just disappear. And that would be it. No one would ever find me again because he wouldn’t let them.” He releases a shuddering breath as the feeling returns. “I’m scared, Aniki. I’m scared all the time. Sometimes I’m so scared I can barely make it through the day.”“I know. You carry yourself like you are. Like you’re trying to disappear.”“I’m so fucking sick of being like this. I want to have an actual life and actual friends, the way I used to. So how do I stop? What do I do?”“This.” His brother takes a gross, messy bite of pizza for emphasis. “Reach out. Noon, midnight, I don’t care. I’m hoping you’ll do it enough that eventually you’ll want to reach out to everyone else. But there’s no timeline for that. Start with me, and work outward at your own pace.”“Will you always bring pizza?” Ikuya asks, dabbing grease off his slice with a paper towel.“Always. Also, I’m staying over. Let’s play hooky tomorrow,” his brother suggests.Ikuya rolls his eyes. “I’m not missing work because of a bad dream.”“Weird. Rin said you should when I texted him on the way here.”“Aniki! You can’t just - you owe me another pizza tomorrow.”They stay up a little longer, eating themselves into an extra gym session and talking about nothing, a tradition that’s become distinctly theirs. Ikuya feels a thousand times better knowing someone he trusts will be in the guest room and here when he wakes up. Around four in the morning, sleep comes for them both. Ikuya insists on cleaning up since his brother did everything else. When he returns to the couch, his brother looks like he’s about to start crawling up the walls - his eyes keep drifting to Ikuya’s phone like he’s doing his best not to but can’t help himself. Ikuya follows his gaze to the text lighting up his screen, and - shit. It’s a stupid cat meme Ikuya will probably find hilarious, sitting right under Asahi’s name.“I tried not to look,” his brother says apologetically. “But it’s - no, sorry, it’s not my business.”So much for keeping their budding friendship under wraps. “It’s fine,” he replies, brushing off his brother’s guilt with a sigh. “You would have found out eventually. And yes, because I know you’re dying to know - we’ve been hanging out. I ran into him a while back. He actually lives in that other building we looked at a few blocks down. Since then, we’ve just…yeah. I don’t know.”“Then you know about the divorce.”“I do. He told me the second time we ran into each other.”“Sorry I didn’t tell you. My first thought was that it wouldn’t be helpful - ”“It wouldn’t have been,” Ikuya interjects. “Sorry, go on.”“It hasn’t even crossed my mind since you came back,” his brother admits. “Please don’t kill me.”“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”“Little shit. So what’s it been like? Since, you know…” he prompts.“Good? I freaked the fuck out when I ran into him,” he says, “and I freaked out even harder when he told me about the divorce. Then he kind of offered to help me learn how to cook, and we hung out, then we hung out again, then we celebrated my birthday last weekend - Aniki,” he cuts himself short, “am I crazy? I’m enjoying myself with the person who made me fucking miserable for years. Except - I don’t get it. All of that feels like another life.”“I don’t think you’re crazy,” his brother is quick to make clear, “but I’ll be honest, he wasn’t who I had in mind when I said to work your way outward. Not that it’s a bad thing! Just unexpected. I don’t know. He could actually make the most sense. You’ve both been through the wringer. Him nowhere near as much as you, but still,” he finishes, too cryptic for Ikuya’s liking.“It sure seems that way.” Ikuya considers stopping there, but there are so many question marks his brother could transform into complete thoughts. Now that it’s out in the open, he might as well sate some of his curiosity. “Do you know what happened?”“I don’t think anyone really knows what happened,” his brother begins carefully. “Maybe Kisumi, but he had a pretty fucking clear bias towards the end.” Damn. True disdain is rare for Natsuya Kirishima. “From the outside, it looked like things fell apart pretty fast after the first year. It could have been earlier, but that’s when everyone noticed.”Ikuya feels a twinge of guilt for being so nosy. He’s hanging off his brother’s every word like it’s a salacious tabloid story. But if things had gone well for Ikuya, he would have heard all this a while ago, right? Technically, he’s just catching up to everyone else.“You could tell they were trying,” his brother continues, unaware of Ikuya’s mental gymnastics, “but something about them wasn’t built for the long run. I think Asahi realized how awkward the tension was, because he stopped coming out as much. Aito didn’t, which I always thought was unfair. It was like Asahi was handing his friends over to him to make us all happy, which we obviously weren’t. Aito seemed fine with it.” A note of disapproval creeps into his voice. “He wasn’t an asshole about it, but he was a little too comfortable with the arrangement, know what I mean?”“That sounds miserable for Asahi,” Ikuya frowns. “And all of you, but mainly him. He always thrived on his friendships.” Ikuya notwithstanding.“I’m sure it was.” He studies Ikuya for a moment. “You two rebuilding - I hope it’s a good thing. It probably is. But all the other shit isn’t going to just disappear. You understand that, right?”“I know, I know,” Ikuya groans, flopping back on the couch. “I mean, fuck - there’s so much. Can’t I enjoy myself for a while before burning everything down?”“Not what I meant,” his brother says. “You should absolutely see what this is. Eventually addressing your shit doesn’t have to mean burning it down. Like I said, this is a good thing. Everyone needs someone to text them shitty memes when they can’t sleep.”“Can’t? I think I need to sleep,” Ikuya says through a yawn. “Just - can you keep this on the down low? I don’t - ”“Keep what on the down low? I know nothing.”“Your memory’s going in your old age.”“Good thing I have a little brother to take care of me.”“I’m putting you in a home.”“No more pizza.”“I take it back.”There’s a lot to chew on regarding his and Asahi’s developing connection. What he’s learned in the last hour is fascinating but provides no answers, and only begets more questions. ‘Divorce’ is such a simple term for limitless scenarios. All it denotes is an ending, nothing more. The only thing he’s completely sure of is that Asahi’s been as lonely as he suspected, and for some time now. But it’s pushing five in the morning, and no chewing will occur until he has a good eight hours under his belt.The Kirishima brothers retire to their separate rooms, and when Ikuya succumbs to sleep a second time, there are no nightmares. He’s not dumb enough to believe this will be the last time he wakes alone, buried six feet under in fear. Tonight, though, he’s on solid ground, and he’s not alone.That’s enough.Rin and Haru’s love affair was always torrid, from - as Ikuya’s been told - elementary school all the way through Haru’s health scare in Fukuoka. It’s impressive how domestic they’ve become without losing any of their fire.“…I wasn’t going to let him win, obviously. If the guy wants a race in the Danube, then he’ll get a race in the Danube.”“And this was last year?” Ikuya asks incredulously. “You’re sure it wasn’t a decade ago?”“What was I supposed to do?” Haru says, steadfast in his commitment to being the strangest man on earth. “We couldn’t agree on a restaurant.”“I suppose a coin toss was out of the question.”An hour and a half into his visit, Ikuya’s still nursing his first drink. Staging a repeat hangover performance isn’t on his to-do list for this weekend. Rin and Haru are pouring number three, making it clear the evening will not end with Ikuya’s departure. Rin’s assertion has proved to be true - despite working with him all week, it feels like it’s been months since they last saw each other.“Rin said you were thinking of going back to school?” Haru inquires as Rin hands him his gin and tonic.“Apparently. I was thinking about doing online classes,” Ikuya tells them. “Then I can go at my own pace. I get stressed out easily these days, in case you haven’t noticed.”“Yet here you are,” Rin points out, “going back to school, making a career change - those are big steps. You’re running towards something, not away.”“I hope so.”“I know so,” Haru smiles warmly. “One step at a time. Our circumstances are different, but after Fukuoka, I also had to put one foot in front of the other and hope it was in the right direction.”“As long as your husband keeps paying me to do nothing, I’ll keep stepping,” he replies, aiming his best shit-eating grin Rin’s way.“Better get some good walking shoes.” Rin shoots back. “I charge ten percent interest on student loans.”Ikuya sticks around until Haru announces he’s tired and wants to go to bed. He never was one to mince words. They say their goodbyes, and then Ikuya’s back on the busy streets of Tokyo. Usually, he’d be racing home, eager to be in the safety of his own space. Right now, though, the prospect of an empty apartment is unbelievably depressing. A pervasive, crushing loneliness surrounds him as he trudges home, growing as he rides the train that one single stop, and with each subsequent block. Halfway there, he decides he simply cannot do it. He can’t go home. He doesn’t want to go out, but he doesn’t want to be alone. His brother and Nao are visiting Nao’s parents for the weekend, so -This is a place to belong.Oh.Should he? He should. Asahi’s offer wasn’t a throwaway. In a world where Ikuya no longer feels like he knows anything, he knows that much is true. He takes out his phone and sends a quick what are you up to? A response comes within seconds.
watching two crabs fight on my tv
…and waiting for you?
A warm feeling settles in the pit of Ikuya’s stomach. He replies with a see you soon and sets off, relieved to be headed toward a distinctly not empty apartment. There’s no anxiety as he approaches this time. Not in the lobby - though he still doggedly avoids eye contact with the doorman - the elevator, or the silent hallway on the fifteenth floor. When Asahi opens the door, he looks tired but in good spirits.“Which crab won?”“Ended in a draw. An octopus ate them.” He motions Ikuya into the apartment. “Oh, and hi.”“Hi,” he replies, following Asahi inside and hanging his hoodie on one of the coat hooks. “Thanks for letting me crash your Saturday night.”Asahi looks down at his sweats and worn t-shirt. “I think you are my Saturday night.”“Don’t I feel special,” Ikuya laughs, secretly envious of Asahi’s comfortable attire. He’d give anything for some frumpy couch clothes right now.“I’m glad you took me up on the…thing,” Asahi says, as unsure of what to call this as Ikuya is.“I’m glad you offered the thing.” He eyes the couch and cautiously makes his way over, still unclear on the rules - if there are any rules. “The thing saved me from an empty apartment. You know how it is.”“Preaching to the choir. You hungry or anything?”“Nah,” Ikuya turns him down, “I already ate. I’d take something to drink, though.”“On it.” Asahi leaves for the kitchen, and Ikuya can hear him rummaging around in the fridge a few seconds later. “Same deal as last time, except - oh, right. I have Ramune, for some reason. Want one?”That grabs Ikuya’s attention. When was the last time he had Ramune? It’s such a kid’s drink. It’s - it’s something they drank as kids. They’d stop at the tiny convenience store on their way home from club activities and pay for their drinks like proud little adults - Ikuya with money obtained by legal means, and Asahi with money lifted from his mom’s wallet. Then they’d sit on the bench outside and argue while the Ramune - and the sun - slowly disappeared. Though they tried like hell every single time, they never unlocked the secret to getting the marble out. Ikuya only ever made two pinky promises in his life. One to Haru, finally fulfilled after six pathetic years of self-pity, and one to Asahi, swearing they’d get that damn marble out if it was the last thing they did.They never did.Not as children, not in college, and certainly not after. He wonders if Asahi remembers. Ikuya’s always held onto things. That quality is proving to be a problem now, as there’s so much he’s desperate to let go of. This is far from the worst of them. At least he associates Ramune with a golden, if ephemeral, moment in time. Such is the ebb and flow of Ikuya’s life - a brief burst of something beautiful for every years-long stretch he’d give anything to forget.“That sounds good,” is the summation of his journey down the corridors of memory. “Haven’t had one of those in forever.”There’s some clinking, and then Asahi reappears with two bottles. They look exactly as Ikuya remembers them, as though they were pulled right out of the past.“Not sure what came over me. I was pulling an Ikuya and getting takeout - ” Ikuya sticks his tongue out, making Asahi laugh “ - and they looked really good. Then I forgot to have it. Whatever,” he shrugs and hands one to Ikuya. “They were waiting for the right moment.”Asahi’s smile suggests his impulse buy may not have been so impulsive. Ikuya doesn’t feel the need to address it or speak it out loud. Their youth is safe, untouched by everything that came after. They tap bottles and then pop open their first Ramune since they were twelve years old.“Shit’s as good as I remember,” Asahi says after a few sips.“It really is.”Ikuya watches Asahi tap the side of the bottle, sending the elusive marble careening off the side of the glass like a pinball machine.“Think we can get it out?”There it is. Ikuya’s heart leaps at the acknowledgment of what was, which he squashes down before it can get too high off the ground.“Can’t know unless we try,” he answers with a raised brow and faint challenge.“You’re on.”Because it’s never wise to chug soda, they decide to watch something until it’s marble extraction time. Ikuya’s keen to check out whatever marine battle royale Asahi was watching before he arrived. Ever the accommodating host, Asahi gamely rewinds, more interested in Ikuya’s reactions than the fight itself.“They look like they’re dancing with each other,” Ikuya observes. “Like, slow dancing.”“Kind of romantic, right?”“A real enemies-to-lovers situation. I can’t believe you spoiled this for me.”“You asked!” Asahi exclaims. “Besides, knowing their tragedy just makes it more epic.”“This is not epic,” Ikuya corrects him. “This is anything but - oh my god!”Sure enough, an octopus emerges from the shadows, bringing the proceedings to a dramatic close. Horrific, even.“It’s just…munching on them. Alive. They were about to kiss and everything!”Asahi bursts into loud, bright laughter. “I can’t believe I missed all this the first time. Thoughts and prayers for what could have been.”“May they find each other in the afterlife.”This is easy. His brother aside, Ikuya hasn’t been entirely at ease with anyone since he moved back. Even with Rin and Haru, he stands on a certain amount of ceremony. They have a household, in-laws, solid, dependable friendships - the way they navigate the world is so diametrically opposed to how Ikuya navigates his own, diminutive one. Though he knows it’s not purposeful, it leaves Ikuya on the outside looking in.He never expected to find Asahi on the same side of the window. But as they sit here cackling over the demise of one of the great modern romances, he’s selfishly happy to have found a kindred spirit in the last place he’d ever think to look. In these pockets of time, he can forget the window’s existence altogether.Only the marble remains in his now-empty bottle of Ramune. Asahi’s finished his as well, meaning it’s time to pick up where they left off nineteen years ago.“Any ideas?” Ikuya asks as Asahi hits pause on the sharks now taking center stage. “Other than smashing them, I mean.”“Give me some credit,” Asahi says. “Hold on.”While Asahi’s in the kitchen doing god knows what, Ikuya expands his collection of puzzle pieces with the ones Asahi’s left out in the open.Unlike Ikuya, Asahi has photos on the walls. His eyes are drawn to a photo of Asahi’s parents, who he immediately recognizes. They’ve aged significantly, but their cheerful dispositions are unchanged. Then, of course, there’s Akane, Kon, and Tsukushi. Tsukushi would be around eleven years old now, the same age Ikuya was when he met Asahi. He may not have inherited the red hair typical of the Shiina family, but he’s got the same blinding smile and exudes the same boundless energy as his mother and uncle. Is the Marron still in business? Fuck, but he’s out of the loop. Even if it were still going strong, he’d be too scared to go there anyway.The photos aren’t limited to Asahi’s family. Judging from a few recent-looking pictures of the four of them, Asahi’s maintained friendships with his high school-turned-college kouhai. There’s also one of Asahi with people Ikuya assumes are his coworkers. Two of them he recognizes as fellow athletes, both as personable and blessed with the gift of gab as Asahi. Given what Asahi told him last week, he must be incredibly skilled. Being able to turn it on at the drop of a hat when it’s so not how you feel - Ikuya could never, not in a million years. He should really tune in and watch Asahi do his thing sometime.Then there are the unavoidable photos of people Ikuya used to call friends. In one, an enthusiastic Nagisa and Rei sit on the beach in front of an impressive sandcastle. Next is a picture of Rin, Haru, and Asahi on a blanket in Showa Kinen Park, likely before the park’s yearly fireworks display. To the right of that is an especially sweet photo of Asahi and Nao. Nao was always something of a surrogate parent to Asahi, and his fondness for him is on full display here. Still more pictures feature Sousuke, Makoto, and even his brother, whose penchant for photobombing has only worsened with age. Kisumi shows up in a few larger group shots, but there’s nothing with him as a focus. Understandably, there’s no sign of Aito anywhere.Having all these familiar faces spread before him makes Ikuya’s heart ache. He misses them, misses who he was around them. More than anything, he wishes he weren’t so fucking terrified to reach out. Despite his brother’s claim that they’d take him back in a heartbeat, understanding and believing are two very different things.He doesn’t bother looking for any photos of himself.“Don’t judge me,” Asahi says as he returns from the kitchen, preemptively on the defense. “The internet said it was a good idea.”In his hands is a pot of what looks like newly boiled water. Ikuya stares at it, nonplussed, until Asahi finally decides to explain what hot water has to do with their marble retrieval.“It’s the seal that keeps the cap on, right?” Ikuya nods. “So we just need to make the seal and the cap soft enough to pop it off.”“Makes as much sense as anything else we’ve tried,” he replies, shoulders pulling up in a shrug. “So we’re just going to hold the cap end underwater until it does or doesn’t work?”“You got any better ideas?”“…no.”They sit down on the floor with the pot between them like they’re witches about to cast a spell. Now that it’s in front of him, the heat coming off the water makes Ikuya want to recoil. He begs himself not to make a thing of it.“Ready?” Asahi asks.“As I’ll ever be.”They overturn their bottles and hold them from the bottom, submerging the cap and seal in the hot water. What a picture they must paint right now - two thirty-somethings willing to resort to grade-school science experiments for a toy.“We look like we’re fishing for marbles.”“Too soon,” Asahi scolds. “The crabs died fifteen minutes ago, and you’re already talking about other fish?”“It’s never too - shit!”Ikuya’s rejoinder is cut short by a gasp. The glass isn’t even hot - it’s warm at best, but the second it reaches his palm, he freaks out and drops the whole fucking thing in the water. The resulting splash sends actual hot water sloshing out onto the floor near his bare feet, and sends Ikuya scrambling away until his back hits the couch.“Ikuya!” Asahi abandons his bottle and rushes to Ikuya’s side. “Did you - okay, it’s okay.”God damn it. He was so sure he wouldn’t make a thing of it. Now he’s sitting here shaking like a fucking dog in a thunderstorm, scared of shadows and ruining his - their - good time. Asahi seems torn between giving Ikuya the space he needs and the physical comfort he suddenly craves. Ultimately, he chooses neither and both, sitting next to Ikuya with their legs, arms, and sides pressed against each other without laying a finger on him.“Fucking ridiculous,” Ikuya mutters under his breath, because it’s true. He’s completely fucking ridiculous. Then, to Asahi, “Sorry. I’m fine.”“I know,” Asahi says. “I’m not, though. I have no idea why I let the internet talk me into putting glass in hot water. Fucking ridiculous is right.”Ikuya knows he’s trying to make him feel better. He also knows that, holy shit, yes, what possessed either of them to think this was a safe plan? Stupidity on both their ends helps a little. Now if only he could get his body on the same page.“Neither of us is winning a Nobel Prize tonight,” he relents. “I just wish these fucking things would stop.” He opens and closes his hands in hopes of steadying them. “I don’t like feeling out of control.”Clear indecision once again flits across Asahi’s face as his eyes drop to Ikuya’s hands. Ikuya’s desire for Asahi to hold them is also out of his control. He hates it.“Me neither,” Asahi says, deciding against the hand-holding and leaving Ikuya to his disappointment. “Especially when everything’s in free fall and you’re trying so hard, but there’s no way to stop it.”“There’s almost always a crash landing.”“Feels that way,” Asahi agrees, then gives Ikuya a satisfied smile. “But this time I crash-landed into a Saturday night watching crabs die with you. So maybe it’s not always the worst?”“Maybe not,” Ikuya smiles back. “I’d watch crabs get mutilated with you any day of the week.”“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”Despite his best efforts, his hands are still trembling. He eyes them judgmentally, as though his disapproval will cow them into obedience. Imagine his shock when that genius tactic fails. His frustration fades when Asahi reverses his decision, taking Ikuya’s hands and giving them a squeeze.“Knock it off,” he commands, addressing Ikuya’s hands directly. “Give the guy a break.”His hands are warm. It’s hardly the first time Ikuya’s thought that, but it’s no less true now than any other time. He wonders if he trusts Asahi. Not Asahi as he was then - the one sitting here with him now, who Ikuya’s given permission to touch. Terrifyingly, he thinks he knows the answer.“Little fuckers,” Ikuya frowns as his hands finally stop shaking. “Couldn’t listen to me, huh?”“They just needed some peer pressure.”Asahi holds his hands until he’s sure they won’t start up again. When he releases them, his thumbs brush the inside of Ikuya’s wrists, leaving trails of warmth tingling in their wake.“Want to keep watching this shitshow?” he asks, nodding to the TV. “Those crabs are about to possess whatever’s one step up on the food chain. Revenge time.”“Who knew the ocean was such a soap opera?” Ikuya says as they climb back onto the couch. “I’m waiting for the will reading. Crab families duking it out over their inheritance.”Before they resume their undersea drama, Asahi takes the discarded pot and soda bottles back to the kitchen. Ikuya listens to the sound of running water as Asahi cleans up. Why he’s bothering to clean a pot already sterilized by boiled water, he has no clue, but to each their own.Their nautical adventure continues upon Asahi’s return, leaving the ill-fated crustacean lovers in the belly of the beast. Crabs are apparently a vengeful species - soon, about five hundred of them swarm the ocean floor, preparing to declare war on their eight-tentacled foes.“I didn’t know that many crabs existed,” Asahi comments.“Yup. That’s all of them. Every single living crab is here on your screen.”“And there are fucking tons of them!”After the war - victor undetermined - the cameras sink further down to focus on creatures of the deep. There’s no romance or drama here, only the endless darkness that’s always frightened and fascinated Ikuya. How do things that live at those depths know up from down? Do they ever think they’re the only ones left? He’s hypnotized by the images of bioluminescent beings suspended in empty, ink-black nothingness.“Do you think they get lonely?” he asks Asahi, who’s also fallen quiet. “I wonder if they’d even know if they passed another fish.” There’s no response. “Asahi?”He’s met with more silence, so he looks over and - Asahi’s asleep. No snoring, as he once advertised, only the deep, even breathing of someone who needs sleep and doesn’t get enough. Ikuya knows the feeling all too well. He hopes Asahi isn’t also plagued by nightmares. Part of him wants to stay and make sure he’s okay. Another, more practical part of him knows there’s no controlling dreams - control, always control. Not to mention staying and watching Asahi sleep would be out of this world creepy.So, instead of staying and watching, he drapes a throw blanket over Asahi and hits mute on the TV. He looks so young. Ikuya is reminded of their childhood - Asahi would roll off his futon in his sleep and smack Ikuya in the face, none the wiser and entirely at peace. In slumber, Asahi is both past and present, the Asahi of then superimposed on the Asahi of now. What keeps him up at night? Ikuya only knows the answer in broad strokes, and broad strokes aren’t what keep him up all night.A pad of paper covered in doodles and notes from work sits on one of the end tables. Ikuya ignores them, tears off a blank sheet, and scribbles a brief note.
Everything in the ocean died. The crabs killed them all.
He leaves it on the coffee table for when Asahi wakes up. Then he grabs his hoodie, spares Asahi one more fond look, and leaves.The short walk home is quiet. His doorman isn’t a talker, thank fuck, so he’s able to pass with a shared nod and smile before disappearing behind the elevator doors. He gets off on the fifteenth floor and unlocks the door with his fingerprint. This is within his control. A massive yawn escapes him the second he sets foot inside - Asahi’s rubbing off on him. Maybe they’ll both get a decent night’s sleep tonight. Thrilled at the idea of not only sleeping well, but doing so in the frumpy couch clothes he’s been longing for, he heads to his room to change.He’s removing his hoodie when something falls from the pocket and lands on the floor with a thud.“Shit,” he mutters as whatever it is rolls across the floor. “What the…?”The object’s journey ends abruptly, courtesy of his bedside table. He bends down to pick it up, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s holding.In his hand - at perfect room temperature - is a smooth, light blue marble.Every day the following week, Monday through Friday, Ikuya does the unthinkable: he sits at his desk. No cowering underneath, no avoiding it like it’ll challenge him to a duel if he gets too close. Is he doing work? No. Is he not doing work? Also no. He’s finally taking a stab at figuring out what the fuck his job is, and by extension, searching for some kind of purpose. Maybe this is it, maybe it’s not. But he won’t know unless he tries.He registers for an online curriculum recommended by Rin. They won’t start for another two weeks, but in the meantime, he familiarizes himself with the syllabus and materials for his courses. They’re all building blocks, beginner classes, which he desperately needs. Breaking the impossible down into small pieces soothes his paralyzing anxiety over an insurmountable big picture. He can do it piece by piece. Hopefully. Even if he can't, it’s got him sitting at his desk, and that’s what really matters, isn’t it?Talk about small pieces.Over the course of the week, the marble sits in his pocket like a good luck charm. He knows it’s stupid. It’s a fucking marble. Still, there it is, a light but firm weight tethering him to…well, he has no idea what it’s tethering him to, but knowing it’s there keeps him calm. Asahi never brings it up when they text, and neither does Ikuya. They both know. Ikuya knows they both know, and it disturbs him just how sure he is.He’s more disturbed by his dismay when his brother proposes they visit their mother that weekend. Despite his apprehension, saying yes is a given - she was another casualty of his disappearance, perhaps the most unforgivable. They’ve talked since he came home, but he’s made no effort to actually see her. Shameful.On the train back to Iwatobi, he stews in guilt and dread. How can he explain any of this away? The few times she had managed to get in touch, he gave her the same brush off as his brother and friends, assuring her he was happy, he was fine, he was making it through the day, the hour, the minute, the second - and then nothing.As expected, but no less heartbreaking for it, she cries when she finally sees him.“I missed you so much,” she tells him through tears. “Where did you - and what are these?” She reaches for Ikuya’s hand, but his brother comes to his rescue.“Ikuya, can you grab my six - sorry, Mom. They don’t have the kind I like here!”He spends far longer than necessary digging his brother’s beloved six-pack out of his duffle bag. Downstairs, he can hear hushed voices. The only clear word is his name, over and over. After that, his mother doesn’t bring the scars up again, which is honestly worse. Of course she wants to know what happened to her youngest, how he got hurt, where he’s been, and a million questions he can’t - won’t - answer. They’re all elephants in the room that she’s likely been briefed on and instructed to ignore. Ikuya really is the gift that keeps on giving - he evidently has a limitless capacity for hurting those who love him most.“Mom?” he says, approaching her nervously before bed. “I wanted - I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, miserable specimen that he is. “I couldn’t.” Couldn’t what goes unsaid. “I wanted to. I’m sorry I disappeared.” He joins her on the couch, praying that even though he can’t tell her what happened, it’s not too little, too late. “It wasn’t you. It wasn’t anyone. This is all my fault. Nothing went the way it was supposed to. I - but that doesn’t matter. It’s not an excuse.”“Oh, Ikuya,” she answers with a watery smile. “Nothing’s your fault. Nothing.”She doesn’t have a fucking clue what’s not his fault. She doesn’t know the first thing, and yet when she goes to hug him, he collapses into her arms. She holds him the way she used to when he was little, and he allows it, resting his head in her lap and crying as she strokes his hair. She’s crying too, but her focus is on him.“I missed you,” he sobs, a child desperate for love all over again. “I missed you so much.”“You’re here, sweetie,” she comforts him. “I’m not going anywhere.”When his brother drops ungracefully onto the couch, he rubs Ikuya’s back like he did in Belgium, in a different life. Their family hasn’t been together like this in years. Ikuya hates that his failings are what made it possible. But whatever the catalyst, they’re here now, crying on a couch in Iwatobi - a small, safe island in savage waters.He sleeps like a baby that night, tucked away in his old room. A weight’s been lifted from his shoulders, gifting him with a new lightness that follows him through the weekend. Their impromptu trip goes from impossibly daunting to impossibly wonderful overnight. They do nothing but enjoy each other’s company and - though he doesn’t feel he deserves it - shower Ikuya with attention and affection. His brother proves a sore loser and even sorer winner at game night, while Ikuya conducts himself with utmost class, only yelling at him twice. Their mother even makes fried shrimp. Though he feels bad comparing the two, he knows Asahi would understand his preference for home homemade comfort food.What he’ll never forgive is being forced to sit through the fucking bird-watching documentary.Early Sunday morning, he walks the old path from home to Iwatobi Junior High. It only takes about fifteen minutes - wasn’t it a much longer walk? God, he could have sworn it was an hour each way. Looking back, he realizes both things are true. The walk was short, but he and Asahi would stop every fifteen feet to argue, buy soda and popsicles, and splash each other silly on the beach. In the grand scheme of things, he’d known Asahi for such a short time, a brief moment spanning Ikuya’s entire life.He snaps a few pictures of familiar places and sends them to Asahi, who he doubts is awake. At least, Ikuya hopes he’s not. As he often does these days, he wonders if he’s playing with fire. Is he asking to be hurt again? Again, as he often does these days, he answers his own question - and the answer is no. There’s no explanation for his conviction. There are mountains of evidence to the contrary. But just like with the marble, he simply knows.“And here I thought I’d have you beat,” his mother greets him when he returns. “Anything interesting out there?”“Just the old spots,” he replies with a shrug. “You know.”“Oh, I know,” she laughs. “I dragged you home from the old spots five days a week. You and Asahi would see how long you could stay out without getting in trouble.”“Me? In trouble?” He flashes an easy, angelic grin when his mother fixes him with a withering stare. “I conveniently forgot about that,” he says with a dismissive wave.“Natsuya mentioned you two reconnected?”He takes back every kind thing he’s ever said or thought about his brother.“…yes.”“That’s good,” is her only input on the matter. “I’m glad.”So is he.The Kirishima offspring return to Tokyo in high spirits Sunday night, with promises to come home again soon, a promise Ikuya intends to keep. He’s still pathetically unprepared and unwilling to reveal himself to his former friends, but his world grew this weekend, and he refuses to lose the ground he’s gained.On Wednesday, Ikuya loses track of time. He’s eyeballs deep in reading that hasn’t been assigned yet, and by the time he surfaces from his self-imposed homework, the clock is flashing six p.m. How did he not notice everyone leaving? The streets are strangely empty, too, as is the train. Does the city know something he doesn’t? It’s seriously fucking creepy. By the time he’s off the train and back on the lifeless streets, he’s freaking out.An explanation finally comes in the form of a loud warning sound on his phone, one of those blaring, government-issued notifications. Suddenly scared shitless in the middle of a ghost Tokyo, he whips out his phone, and - fuck. Was he really supposed to get inside thirty minutes ago? How did he miss the first warning? As if on cue, the wind picks up, and the sky fills with bruise-colored storm clouds. He’s only a few blocks from his building. He can make it. He can -Boom.He can’t.The heavens open, spilling whole oceans from within. Ikuya is soaked straight through in no seconds flat, and that’s the least of his problems. The downpour is so heavy he can barely see five feet ahead. Then comes the thunder, so loud it might as well be above him. And if it is, then he’s fucked.So why hasn’t he moved? Why isn’t he dashing for cover? His feet are frozen to the ground. It’s the strangest feeling, willing your body to act, only to have it so aggressively reject you. He’s been here before - powerless, trapped in his body and at the mercy of something he can’t control.“What are you doing?” comes a familiar voice from a few feet and worlds away.Slowly, almost casually, he looks in the direction of the sound. He’d like to go toward it. Too bad he can’t. A hand grabs his and pulls - and pulls, and pulls - until his feet unglue themselves and follow where the hand leads. He’s dragged under the overhanging entrance of an apartment building, away from the rain and government typhoon warnings. Seconds later, lightning strikes just right of where he’d been standing.“…inside, okay?” the familiar voice fades back into soft focus. “Come on.”Dazed, he allows himself to be led up, up, fifteen times up, and soon he’s in a safe place. He belongs here; he knows that. Awareness creeps up on him gradually. Hands holding his, hands on his face, light and urgent, his name skipping like a broken record.“…kuya? Ikuya. Come back to me.”He blinks dully as his cognitive functions creak back to life, and the familiar voice and familiar hands become a person. Asahi. Ikuya is in Asahi’s apartment. Asahi’s hands are gentle on his face, at odds with the fear marring his kind features. Rain continues to pound down outside, illuminated by flashes of lightning.“I couldn’t move,” is all he can say. “I couldn’t move.”“That’s what I’m for, right?” Asahi’s laugh is shaky - he’s shaken. “You just needed a hand.”Ikuya is dripping water all over Asahi’s hardwood floor. Asahi is dripping water all over Asahi’s hardwood floor. Ikuya’s hair, face, clothes, feet - you could wring him out a thousand times, and he’d be nowhere near dry.“I’m getting your floor all wet.”Asahi laughs again, startled and breathless. “That makes two of us. Why don’t you - I can throw your clothes in the dryer if you want to shower and borrow some sweats.”“What about you?” Ikuya asks, giving Asahi a once-over.“What about me? I’ll go after,” Asahi tells him. “The floor can take it.”Asahi grabs him a towel and some dry clothes. Ikuya can sense his hesitation to leave him alone, which he absolutely cannot stand. But Asahi does leave, as he must, and as Ikuya once again stands in a downpour, he’s flooded with embarrassment, confusion, and anxiety. What happened out there? Now that he’s back in his body, he can’t fathom why he would do - or not do - something like that. Where was he? Where did he go? And why is he always putting the people he cares about in a position where they have to take care of him? Not only in his thirties - his whole life, from adolescence to adulthood. He’s never not needed saving, and almost always from himself.Believe it or not, he doesn’t enjoy this. He doesn’t relish the whole two steps forward, one step back, one step forward, two steps back thing. His history of wallowing isn’t something he’s proud of. Knowing he’s all but a damsel in distress repulses him. In moments like these, his small strides seem insignificant. All he can see is the bigger picture, the impossible task of becoming whole.“You okay in there?” Asahi calls, voice muffled by the door.“I’m fine,” he assures him. “I’ll be out in a minute.”He’ll never admit to washing his hair with Asahi’s shampoo because it smells like him. Never.The sweats and t-shirt are slightly big on him. They’re about the same height, but Asahi’s always been broader. They’re comfortable. Safe. When he goes to trade places with the wet golden retriever that is Asahi, Ikuya remains quiet, patting him on the shoulder with what he’d like to think is an encouraging smile. He has to imagine it wasn’t very convincing, as Asahi’s shower is short, and he’s back on the sofa with Ikuya in record time.“This is like a PJ party,” Ikuya says, earning his first real smile from Asahi. “All we’re missing is a pillow fort.”“I think that can be arranged.” Asahi leans forward, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. “Can I dry your hair first? You just - ” he jerks his head toward the damp collar of Ikuya’s - Asahi’s - shirt. “Or is that weird?”There is not one single cogent thought in his brain when he accepts Asahi’s offer.“No - I mean, yes. You can.”Asahi lights up like Ikuya’s just given him the winning lottery numbers. “Awesome.” Then he’s gone and back in a flash, directing Ikuya to sit on the floor and planting his feet on either side of him.“Let me know if it’s too hot.”Asahi keeps the heat and volume down, clearly committed to making this a relaxing experience for Ikuya. He succeeds.“This is fine.”“Good. Thanks for the pictures, by the way,” Asahi mentions as he gently cards his fingers through Ikuya’s hair. “We used to spend all afternoon on that beach. You knocked me right into the waves that one time, remember?”Ikuya leans back against the couch and closes his eyes. “Of course. You pulled me in right after you.” He tilts his head so Asahi can comb his hair away from his ears. “My mom was so mad. We went to see her this weekend, actually. In case the photos didn’t give it away.”Fingertips trail behind Ikuya’s ear and slip into the hair at the back of his neck. “Yeah?”“Mhm. It was nice.” Asahi moves his thumb in circles on his scalp, working his way from Ikuya’s ear to his temple. “I hadn’t seen her since I moved back. I wasn’t talking to her in that last year,” he admits for the first time. “Or anyone.”“I bet she was happy to see you,” is Asahi’s only response. No follow-ups, no prying. He never asks for what Ikuya won’t give, and never takes without giving of himself in return. His hand brushes Ikuya’s jaw, spreading warmth from his inner sun across his skin. “I try to get out there to see my parents as often as I can. I don’t know what I’d have done without my family during the divorce.”“Do Akane and Kon still live above the café?” he asks, his curiosity finally spilling over.“Sure do. Our place was close by,” Asahi says, smoothing Ikuya’s bangs away from his face, “and thank god for that. Towards the end, Aito was sending me out to the couch so much I just started staying there instead.”What happened to them? From the day Ikuya was introduced to the day he tortured himself consuming every scrap of content from their wedding, they were it. He can’t wrap his mind around it.“I’m sorry it was so painful,” he tells him. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”Asahi puts the dryer down and moves his hands to Ikuya’s shoulders, where he goes to work on his perpetually tense muscles. It’s an unexpected but not unwelcome touch.“I’m just glad it’s over. You never think it’ll be you who’s divorced by thirty,” he says as he kneads Ikuya’s trapezius muscles. “I don’t know. Somewhere I must have known it wouldn’t work. Like forcing the wrong puzzle pieces together because it almost makes the whole picture. Eventually you’re using band-aids to hold them together.”“Terrible mixed metaphor,” Ikuya teases, somewhat breathless - he never knew Asahi was so good with his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make light of it.” His body moves on instinct, pushing back into Asahi’s touch. “I’m glad you had all that support.” Ikuya had refused the same support, and now look at him. “I can and can’t relate. I didn’t think I’d be - ” he pauses, unsure what to call the mess he is “ - this by age thirty.”“Be what?” Asahi asks, applying more pressure in response to Ikuya’s silent request. “Smart? Funny?” He slowly slides his hands over Ikuya’s shoulders and down his back. “Fascinating?”Ikuya’s next breath is heavy, overwhelmed. Were they ever like this back then? He’s sure they weren’t. They never talked like this. Asahi never spoke to or touched him like this. This is…god, this is so different.“Someone who acts like a crazy person,” he answers as Asahi’s hands return to his shoulders, finding himself unable to acknowledge a compliment that doesn’t fit the image he has of himself. “Like I just did.”Asahi’s hands tense on his shoulders. Finally addressing it creates a shift in atmosphere that fills the room, leaving space for nothing else. Asahi leans forward and rests his forehead against the back of Ikuya’s head, where Ikuya can hear his deep breath and feel the exhalation on his neck.“No. You’re not crazy. Just - you scared the shit out of me, Ikuya. I didn’t know where you went.”“I know,” he says, crumbling under the weight of having hurt someone dear to him. Again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”“Don’t be. Just please,” Asahi begs quietly, “please.” His breath tickles Ikuya’s skin, his plea for nothing ringing in his ears. “Not again.”Ikuya welcomes Asahi’s arms when they wrap around him from behind. What is he supposed to say? What promise is Asahi looking for him to make? Since he has no assurances to give, he covers Asahi’s hands with his own, allowing them to communicate everything he doesn’t understand. Their breathing syncs, and in this moment, Ikuya isn’t alone in his mind or body.“I don’t know what happened.”Asahi slips his fingers through the empty spaces between Ikuya’s.“I know.”This is all Ikuya has to give.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Unless you count being strangely computer illiterate in accessing the student portal, Ikuya’s first week of classes goes off without a hitch. Brushing up on anything and everything available to him beforehand was a good call - he’s pleasantly surprised to discover he’s ahead on the reading.Type A habits aside, he’s enjoying himself. Ikuya Kirishima likes his classes. They’re not particularly creative-minded, but he can see how they’ll give him a foundation to craft a mission statement. As of now, Ikuya’s proposed mission statement isn’t a proposal at all. It’s a feeling. Ikuya feels everything deeply. Too deeply. The idea of doing something with his feelings other than drowning in them is highly appealing.Outside of work and class, he works overtime to keep himself busy. Both his brother and Asahi are away for the next two weeks coaching and commentating at the Olympic trials, and fuck if he doesn’t miss them. His brother is his main person, and Asahi is - well. Asahi is important to him. Because he’s important to him, Ikuya tunes in for competition coverage this time, eager to see Asahi do his thing.And damn, does he do his thing good. He slips into the role of excited, fast-talking, analytical observer with aplomb. Ikuya never realized he had such an extensive vocabulary when it came to swimming, or such an impressively thorough understanding of the sport. His unbridled enthusiasm reminds Ikuya of how he used to be all the time. Knowing that part of Asahi is still intact, even if it’s not always on display, is comforting in a way Ikuya can’t put into words. What he went through didn’t destroy his joy or passion for the things he loves. His perseverance instills hope in Ikuya - hope that maybe the best of him isn’t gone for good.His brother often pops up on camera too, mostly from a distance, twice as an interviewee. Now that is wild. Watching Asahi interview his brother about swimming is like watching children pretending to be grown-ups. Incredibly informed children, yes, but their evident camaraderie and the way they play off each other is a fucking hoot.Ikuya is sure they’ll be meeting up offscreen, and doesn’t know how he feels about that. They now have one major new thing in common, and that major thing is Ikuya. He’s not in love with the thought of being discussed when he’s not there. He’s not in love with the thought of being discussed at all. What he’s really not in love with is his assumption that he’ll be top of mind. The world doesn’t revolve around him. He’s only the protagonist of his own story. Hell, he’s the antagonist too. But it’s his story, and people - even those he’s closest to - have their own stories. Asahi and his brother have five years of history that doesn’t involve Ikuya.Case in point - his brother was at Asahi’s wedding. For obvious reasons, it’s never come up in conversation. But now that all’s said and done, maybe it’s worth asking.But he should stop making it about him.But maybe he should ask.In a bid to stave off loneliness by filling every second of free time until his brother and Asahi come home, Ikuya agrees to do a shoot for Mizuno.His comfort level with modeling runs in opposition to his deeply entrenched self-consciousness. For some reason, he’s able to set it aside for the camera. Maybe it’s the artifice of it all. The lens is a kind of forced boundary, something that separates him from people rather than making him one of them. He can fake it with no real emotional output involved. These days, that’s right in his wheelhouse.Apart from Rin’s brand, it’s been a while since he’s modeled domestically. There’s risk involved. People he knows will see it. While they may not immediately assume he’s here, it will be public confirmation that yes, he still exists, and is at least still associated with Japan. He’ll look like he’s doing great - doing great without them. But who knows? They might see it and be reassured, knowing he’s out there somewhere, happy and successful.If only.The shoot goes well. It’s well-run, organized, professional, and - unfortunately - doesn’t take quite as much time as he’d hoped. They’ll do whatever they need to magic away his scars, and no one will be the wiser. Oh well. While it didn’t fill enough empty hours, he did pick up a check. Money’s got him feeling brave, apparently, because he decides to spend some time in public, around other humans, before heading back to Shinjuku. After grabbing a coffee, he parks himself on a bench in Yoyogi Park to enjoy the weather and his newfound courage. He’s just pulled out his phone to annoy his brother when -“Iku-chan?”Record scratch.“Nagisa, you don’t - ”“Iku-chan!”A blur of blond hair and limbs akimbo are all Ikuya sees before he’s almost knocked off the bench by an airborne Nagisa.“There you are!” Nagisa exclaims. “See, Rei-chan? I knew we should have given it to Natsu-chan!”“Nagisa!” Rei hisses, perfectly audible to Ikuya and the whole of Tokyo. “Get off him!”In all his excitement, Nagisa clearly hasn’t noticed how Ikuya hasn’t moved a muscle. This is all happening to Ikuya. Ikuya has yet to even acknowledge their existence. Nagisa pulls back to assess his former friend’s body language, which is telling him in no uncertain terms to back off. To his credit, he reads and heeds Ikuya’s wordless warning, releasing him and putting a grand total of two inches between them on the bench. For Nagisa, that’s unheard-of levels of restraint.“Nagisa, Rei. Hi,” he finally greets them, eyes trained on his coffee. “I wasn’t - hi.”“Are you back?” Nagisa asks eagerly. “Are you visiting? Where do you - ”“I moved back,” he interrupts. Twenty questions sounds like a fucking nightmare, so he might as well cut to the chase. “I retired and moved back.”Since he still hasn’t looked directly at them, he only sees the look they exchange in his peripheral vision. For such a loud couple, they’ve always had strong nonverbal communication skills.“We missed you,” Nagisa tries again, turning the volume and acrobatics down several notches. “Right, Rei-chan?”“We did,” Rei agrees, nodding emphatically. “This is a wonderful surprise.”“Thanks.”This is stupid. He didn’t really think he could avoid everyone forever, did he? Eventually bumping into someone was inevitable. Wishing it could have happened when he was more ready is bullshit. He was never going to be ready. So what does he do now?“How’ve you been?” he asks, lifting his head to give eye contact a try. It goes about as well as expected. “I haven’t been keeping up. Sorry.”Could he sound any colder?“So good!” Nagisa cries, ignoring Ikuya’s less-than-effusive response. “We retired too! Now Rei-chan’s teaching - right, Rei-chan?” Rei nods proudly. “And I’m going to do commentary. Well, the network said I need to learn how to sit still first, but then I’m going to do it.” Sounds about right. He’s shifted positions eight times in this short conversation alone. “And - ”“Nagisa,” Rei clears his throat, “I think you’re forgetting something.”Nagisa bounces right off the bench at the reminder. “Check it out, Iku-chan!” He grabs Rei’s hand and sticks it right in Ikuya’s face. “We’re finally doing it!”Two rings stare him dead in the eye. The only surprise is that they haven’t already tied the knot - Ikuya figured they would have done it years ago. According to their friends, they’ve basically been married since the day Nagisa peer-pressured Rei into joining the swim club in high school.“That’s great. Can’t say I’m surprised.”None of this feels real. His mind’s taken off running in the other direction, where it can observe their interaction from afar. He hasn’t seen these people since forever, and they’re talking to him like they’re meeting up for mimosas and life updates. Everything in their lives has gone exactly how it’s supposed to, and - does he resent them for it? Is that what’s happening right now? Objectively, he knows they’re filling him in because he’s offered nothing - they might as well be sitting here with a ghost - but the disconnect is jarring.“We sent your invitation to your UK address a few weeks ago,” Rei takes over, “but we got a return to sender.”A few weeks ago? His mind tiptoes back into his body. Does that mean they…?“You wanted me to come?”“Obviously!” Nagisa cries, ogling Ikuya like he’s out of his mind. “Why wouldn’t we?”“Because I haven’t talked to either of you in over a year,” he replies bluntly, surprising himself. “Because I’ve been back since March and haven’t told anyone.”Nagisa frowns. “Rin-chan disappeared to Australia for four years,” he counters. “And Haru-chan disappeared after Fukuoka. And before Fukuoka. Life happens.”True, only he’s not Rin or Haru. His life isn’t a grand, decades-long love story with an operatic climax and happy ending.“But I’m - when is it?” he asks instead of giving in to the urge to argue and push them away. “The wedding.”“Beginning of October,” Rei chimes in. “In Iwatobi. There’s no pressure. We want you there, but if for whatever reason you can’t be - and you don’t need to explain yourself if you can’t - we hope you’ll be part of our lives regardless.”Nagisa is nodding frantically along with Rei’s proclamation. They’re such a perfectly odd, oddly perfect couple. They always have been. Nagisa was a real favorite of his for a good part of their twenties. He’d sidestepped all of Ikuya’s usual hurdles and made himself right at home - a tactic Ikuya later discovered to be Nagisa’s classic, one-hundred percent success rate specialty. Rei was more Ikuya’s speed, or so he thought. In reality, he was just as bad as Nagisa, meaning he was just as likable.Does Ikuya resent them? Yes, he does. He absolutely resents them. But he also used to care deeply for them. Their unerring faith in him, even after icing them out, is overtaking his resentment and leaving it in its dust.“That’s - yes. I’d like to come.”He knows by accepting their invitation, he’s agreeing to so much more than attending a wedding. Guaranteed he’ll change his mind a billion times and have a trillion panic attacks between now and then, but right now, he wants everything that comes with marking his figurative RSVP with a yes.He wants to be wanted.“Amazing!” Nagisa looks like he’s going to explode trying not to throw himself at Ikuya. “What’s your - actually, we’ll just give your invitation to your brother.”“Thank you. And, uh - ” come on, do it, just fucking do it “ - I missed you guys too.”If a sad, awkward confession of something so basic makes them glow the way they do, maybe their lives aren’t so perfect after all.Fortunately for Ikuya and his limited capacity for people, the perfectly odd, oddly perfect couple can’t stick around.“We’re getting dinner with some colleagues,” Rei explains. “Can we convince you to come over to our place soon?”“Yes! Iku-chan, please come over!” Nagisa begs, latching onto Rei’s idea like a pit bull. “We can fill you in on all the gossip - and don’t pretend you’re not dying to know.”Ugh - he forgot how sly Nagisa was. Of course he’s dying to know.“Okay,” he gives in, knowing he’ll be having second, third, fourth, and thousandth thoughts on that one too. “Text me. My number’s the same. Oh, and uh - a few people know I’m home. I’m sorry. My brother told Rin and Haru without asking.”Mentioning Asahi feels too loaded. There’s no easy explanation for them.“Oooh, really?” Nagisa asks, no betrayal or hurt detected. “Should we invite them too?”“Sure. Might as well.”“Yay!” Nagisa cheers. “Party time!”“We are not having a party, Nagisa,” Rei says with fond exasperation. “Come on, let him go. It was wonderful to see you, Ikuya-senpai.”“Ikuya is fine.”In one of the most admirable displays of restraint Ikuya’s ever seen, Nagisa manages to say goodbye without trying to climb Ikuya like a tree. Rei is characteristically respectful of personal space, and they depart with repeated promises - and possibly threats - to see each other soon. Then Ikuya is alone in Yoyogi Park once again, wondering if that really just happened.Eventually, he leaves, goes home, and has a normal, quiet night. But every step of the way, every second of his normal, quiet night, he’s accompanied by a truth he can hardly believe.Ikuya’s friends never gave up on him.Ikuya’s doing the thing. The thing where he lies in bed and stares at the ceiling for an indeterminate length of time - and by indeterminate, he means an alarmingly long time.Is he moping? Maybe.Okay, he’s moping. What he should be is excited - his brother and Asahi are coming home today. But Ikuya’s been subsisting on a diet of classes, homework, and visits with Rin and Haru. Not that Rin and Haru aren’t dear to him, because they are. Extremely dear. They’ve been two of his biggest supports and quite literally changed his trajectory in life. They’re just…Ikuya craves emotional intimacy he just doesn’t have with them. Granted, the distance is his fault - they’d step up in a second if he’d let them. He’s the one keeping them at arm’s length. Given their history, Asahi shouldn’t even be on his list of friends, never mind owning so much real estate in his mind. And being so vulnerable around him? He’s a fucking lunatic. Yet here he is, staring at the ceiling and itching for him to get home already.A click signaling the activation of his biometric sensor has him bouncing out of bed. Is it really four? He distinctly remembers it being noon when he tumbled back first into bed. Yikes. He rushes to the door just as his brother sets foot inside and flings himself at him, almost knocking him over.“Hey, bud,” his brother laughs, giving him one of his signature bear hugs. “Long time no see.”“Yeah. Welcome back.” Suddenly brimming with energy, Ikuya throws himself onto the couch and pulls out his phone. “Takeout?” he asks, already opening the delivery app. “I’m hungry.” That’s a brand-new development. Not five minutes ago, he could have gone the next three days without eating.“As long as it’s unhealthy, I’ll eat anything,” his brother says as he joins him on the couch. “I’m not saying we should get pizza again, but I am saying we should get pizza again.”“Done.”Once Ikuya’s finished ordering their grease-drenched meal, he returns his focus to his brother.“So, how was it?”“Fun,” his brother replies. “Nonstop, but fun as hell. You can’t beat the energy in that arena. You catch any of it?”“Most of it, actually. I saw you a bunch of times.”“Did I look super professional?”“Remember when we used to play grown-ups when we were little? That’s what you looked like,” Ikuya ribs him, earning an easily evaded kick to the shin. “That’s a good thing, though. Get a job you love, never work a day in your life, blah blah blah.”“Aw. Don’t get all sappy on me,” his brother fake weeps. “But enough about me - ” he’s shared approximately two things “ - how are you? Get up to anything crazy the last two weeks?”“Tried to keep myself busy. Classes are good. I like them.”“That’s amazing, Ikuya,” his brother says. “You sound excited.”Does he? He thinks he sounded pretty normal.“I guess,” he says with some reticence - getting excited about anything is a jinx waiting to happen. “We’ll see how it goes. Oh, and I did a thing for Mizuno. That was cool. And - wait, you won’t believe this.”“Try me.”He tells his brother about his unplanned, unwelcome-turned-very-welcome reunion with Rei and Nagisa. As he speaks, a swell of raw, powerful feeling rises in his throat, up, up, up, until it emerges as a choked sob.“Shit,” he sniffles, “I’m sorry. Didn’t see that one coming.”“Uh, I did.” His brother sounds nearly as emotional as Ikuya. “People want you to let them care about you. I know you don’t think so, but it’s never been an out-of-sight, out-of-mind thing with you. I’m inviting myself to your party, by the way.”“It’s not a party,” Ikuya protests. “And no, don’t say ‘it’s not a party unless I’m there.’” His brother gives him an obnoxious set of finger guns. “You’re the worst. Anyway, I’m so - I’m relieved they saw me first. I really don't know if I would’ve ever reached out to them,” he confesses, ashamed of his cowardice. “It’s a lot.”“I know. But you come by it honestly.” His brother reaches out and ruffles his hair, laughing when Ikuya bats his hand away like a cat. “Nagisa’s a hell of a reentry point. Talk about throwing you in at the deep end.”“Yeah, no shit. Apparently the network told him he has to learn to sit still before he can get into commentating. Which reminds me,” he adds, segueing seamlessly to a topic for which he needed no reminder, “I caught your interviews with Asahi. You guys looked like you were having fun.”“He’s always a fun interview. Smart, too. Really good at his job.” He regards Ikuya carefully, like he’s weighing his words before speaking. “We hung out a few times,” is where the chips predictably fall. “Haven’t had a chance to catch up in a while.”Ikuya’s got jumping beans in his stomach, and for the life of him, he can’t figure out if they’re the good or bad kind. His brother’s leaving the door open for Ikuya’s curiosity, but he’s not shoving him through. What does - or doesn’t - he want to know? The door’s mere existence confirms he was the subject of at least one conversation. That’s…no. The knowledge alone has him all in his head. Anything more would be detrimental. He doesn’t want their friendship colored by outsider commentary, even if said outsider is the person he trusts most in this world. So no, for Ikuya’s sanity, whatever they discussed is off the table. That being said, he could use the door for other purposes.“I’m glad,” he says, “I’m sure it was fun. That’s - ” he pivots from present to past “ - I mean, I assume you guys have had some one-on-one time over the years?”“Yeah,” his brother replies, changing lanes right along with him. “Not a ton. We’d get a beer every once in a while.” Ikuya can tell he’s searching for the right words “It’s awkward. I understand if you’re unhappy about it.”“I don’t know how I feel about it,” he tells him honestly. “I’m not mad. Maybe I would have been then. Now I just don’t have it in me anymore.”“Well, if you change your mind, you’re allowed to be mad,” his brother offers graciously. “We never really talked about the serious stuff. You could tell he needed a break from whatever was going on, and Kisumi wasn’t showing up for that side of the relationship anymore.”“That’s fucked,” is Ikuya’s instant, impassioned response. “Wasn’t he Asahi’s best man?”“Ah, so you were watching,” his brother accuses him, not unkindly. “I had a feeling. Yes, he was his best man. Any other burning questions? I know you’ve got them.”Busted.“I don’t even know if I have any specific questions. Mainly I - what was it like? Everything I saw was through a phone. Ugh, I don’t know why I’m even asking. I shouldn’t want to know.”“But you do want to know, right?”“…yes.”“Okay. Where do I start…the whole thing was really nice. Textbook beautiful wedding. Gorgeous day, happy people, happy people crying. The works. They were glowing.” Ikuya digs his toes between the couch cushions. Why did he want to know about this? “You good? ” his brother checks in. “Say the word and I’ll stop.” He refuses to continue until he gets visual confirmation from Ikuya, which comes in the form of a silent nod. “Alright. Everyone and their mom showed up, so I didn’t get to see much of them since they were busy trying to say hi to everyone and enjoy their day. I won’t go into detail, but their vows were moving. Really heartfelt stuff.” Ikuya should tell him to stop. It’s not like he didn’t see it all the day of. “There was one weird moment, though.”Finally, something that piques his interest. Unable to break his lifelong habit, he hugs his knees to his chest. “Really?” “Yes, really. I went out back to get some air - the venue had a killer view - and he was out there by himself. He was staring at his phone and…I don’t know how to describe it. It was like he was somewhere else. I went back inside before he noticed I was there, since the guy was clearly having a personal moment. But man, he looked so sad. I could be talking out of my ass here, but it looked to me like he’d either been crying or was about to cry. Not that everything else didn’t seem genuine,” he emphasizes. “Fifteen minutes later he was all smiles, nothing put on or forced about it. Just that one moment that seriously didn’t jive with everything else. So I couldn’t tell you what the hell it was,” he concludes. “It was just weird.”Why does he keep digging with this shit? By now he should know that every answer only introduces more questions. All he’s doing is circling something he doesn’t have the guts to approach directly. He knows they were happy. Instagram, his brother, even Asahi, for fuck’s sake - they all told him as much. He saw everything his brother described, chronicled in devastating detail the day of. Now he has this incongruent moment, a new wrinkle he’ll never make heads or tails of unless he asks Asahi directly, which he will under no circumstances be doing. His brother isn’t even supposed to know about it. The sense of having intruded is now extended to Ikuya, all at his behest.“Those gears in your head sure are loud,” his brother says, deftly pulling Ikuya from his rabbit hole. “Anything you’d like to share with the class?”“Um,” he starts, with no idea where he’s headed, “I’m not sure. I’m glad they were happy - really!” he insists when he sees his brother’s disbelieving expression. “I swear, I am. I wouldn’t wish whatever it is they went through on anyone. Not even him. Not even after all the bullshit.” Then, without employing a single brain cell, he blurts out, “I missed him,” and immediately wants nothing more than to pass away. “Uh.”His brother throws his head back and laughs a bit too hard. “What am I going to do with you, you little weirdo? Go see him tomorrow if you missed him so much.”Ikuya’s face is fucking burning. “Shut up,” he mumbles, hiding his face in his knees. “You’re weird.”“Sick burn,” his brother tosses back, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Aw, don’t pout. Look at you! You’ve got a new career, you’re back in school, you’re reconnecting with old friends, you’re waiting at windows crying until Asahi comes ba - oh my god! Don’t kill me before the pizza gets here!”Ikuya always did have deadly aim with a pillow.There’s a spring in Ikuya’s step that has nothing to do with where his feet are taking him. Nothing whatsoever. He’s taking his brother’s suggestion and being totally normal about it. In a rare moment of spontaneity, he decided to walk the now-beaten path to Asahi’s without texting or calling ahead.Ikuya is showing up unannounced.They spend a lot of time at Asahi’s apartment, he knows. But he’s really gotten hooked on feeling like he belongs. It’s addictive, and Asahi seems more than willing to indulge his addiction. He wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s mutually beneficial, but wouldn’t it be cool if it were?Is he making a mistake? Most likely. Will he regret it as soon as he arrives? Probably.None of that stops him.He breezes past all the checkpoints - doorman evasion, silent elevator ride, dead silent hallway - only pausing once he’s outside Asahi’s apartment. Listening at the soundproof door is a futile pursuit, but he gives it the old varsity try anyway. Nothing. Oh well. Here goes a mistake. Silence reigns for a little longer after hitting the doorbell, then falls from power when the door finally swings open, and - nope. Abort. This was a mistake. All he has are regrets. No -“Ikuya?” A pair of warm brown eyes regard him with surprise, followed by delighted recognition. “Oh my goodness, it is you!”“Hi,” Ikuya gets out before all his faculties shut down. “I - yeah. It’s me.”Unchanged in all the years he did and didn’t know her, Akane Shiina stands in the doorway, giving him a brilliant smile. “What a wonderful surprise! I don’t think I’ve - no, sorry - Asahi!” she calls over her shoulder. “You have company!” Without waiting for Asahi’s response, she shows a fiercely awkward Ikuya inside. “Have a seat! God, it’s been what, five years? I think the last time I saw you was Asahi’s - ”“Uh, want to give him some space, nee-chan?” Asahi’s voice joins the fray, followed by Asahi himself. “Like, two inches. Minimum.”Ikuya thinks he might dissolve into a puddle. There’s so much about this scenario he wasn’t prepared for - hence why he should have texted ahead. Until the day he dies, he will never make another unannounced house call. Interacting with Asahi is easy when it’s just the two of them. Here, now, under the eye of a sister who is no doubt very familiar with another version of their history, Ikuya doesn’t know how or where to begin. Panic swirls in his chest, only loosening its grip when Akane gives him the requested two inches, give or take a foot.“Right! Sorry, you know how our family is.” He sure did. “I’ll go check on the food,” she excuses herself. She and her fuss migrate to the kitchen and out of sight, leaving Ikuya with air in his lungs and Asahi in front of him.“Sorry,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “I should have texted ahead. I’ll go, we can - ”“No!” Asahi vehemently rejects Ikuya’s attempt to back out. “This is awesome. I was going to text you anyway. You’re the best surprise, I swear.”You’re the best surprise.Ikuya’s hands curl in the sleeves of his hoodie, lest he do something ridiculous like go in for a hug. The smile can’t be helped. “Welcome back.”“Happy to be back,” Asahi says with a smile to rival his sister’s.With any potential awkwardness cleared away, Asahi directs him to the low table where they sat on Ikuya’s belated birthday.“You have good timing, actually. We were just about to have lunch. No,” he denies any further apologies for Ikuya’s intrusion, “we always make too much food. You’re doing us a favor.”“Well…if you insist.”“I do.”Asahi looks him over. Nothing obtrusive, simply as though he’s taking him in. Ikuya doesn’t know what he sees, but the attention sparks conflicting feelings of self-consciousness and a low, buzzing exhilaration. Asahi doesn’t look any worse for wear. Maybe a little tired, but that’s to be expected after fourteen days with no breaks. Not for the first time, though perhaps the first where he hasn’t kicked it as far away as possible, he thinks that Asahi looks good. Handsome. He’s grown into himself over the years. He was good-looking when they were younger, but he wore his looks like a puppy whose feet are just a bit too big for its rapidly growing body. Now it’s more self-assured, more intrinsically part of him. Unlike Ikuya, he’s managed to not fade away.Asahi taps his foot against Ikuya’s. “It’s good to see you.”Ikuya counters with a tap of his own. “You too. I saw some of your coverage.”“Yeah? Did I break your eardrums with the yelling? I’m only doing my job well if someone gets hurt.”“It was music to my ears,” Ikuya laughs. “You were great. I figured it’d be a good fit, but I really was impressed. Your energy out there is amazing.”Asahi looks so endearingly proud and excited. “Wow, I - thanks. That’s cool. Uh, that you enjoyed it, I mean. I had to cover the trials in my first year, and I was a disaster. They threw me to the dogs. This time it was fun.” Akane is still in the kitchen, the sounds of running water and clattering cookware drifting into the dining area. “How about you?” Asahi asks. “Get into any trouble while I was gone?”“I robbed a bank and committed arson. Does that count as trouble?”“Nah. They had it coming.”“They always do. I had an eventful couple of weeks, actually,” he says. “Too eventful, maybe.”“Oh? Do tell.”So he tells him about his classes and how much he’s enjoying them, and - with some embarrassment - the Mizuno shoot. Climatically, he drops the bombshell of his reconnection with the perfectly odd, oddly perfect couple.“Shit, that’s amazing!” Asahi exclaims once Ikuya’s finished his story. “And you were so worried.” Did he ever mention being worried? He’s almost positive he didn’t. “You really do leave your mark everywhere you go.”Being thankful for Akane’s return would not have been remotely possible thirty seconds ago. Now he could die of gratitude. Her reappearance gives him a moment to compose himself - he was most definitely about to cry.“You came at the perfect time,” she says, echoing her brother’s sentiments. “Hope you’re hungry.”“I guess I am now.” After getting a load of some seriously good-looking - and even better-smelling - curry udon, miso soup, and kani salad, how could he not be? “And I guess I’m doing an extra gym session this week. Thanks, Akane. Thank you both for having me.”“No need to be all formal,” she insists. “I’m glad you stopped by.” She levels her brother with an accusing glare. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get to see you. Right, mister pro -”“Oh my god, nee-chan,” Asahi groans. “Why are you like this?”“Aw. Isn’t he cute?” she asks Ikuya as she pinches Asahi’s cheek. “Still just an awkward little guy.”Ikuya can’t help but laugh. The clip of their banter is exactly as he remembers. She always loved embarrassing Asahi, and never, ever failed. Still hasn’t, apparently. “You’re like me and my brother. Except my brother’s version of embarrassing me is getting fall-down drunk in a restaurant where they don’t even serve alcohol.”“Vicious,” Asahi grins, “and true. We met up last week, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping when I left. Wasn’t even hungover the next day. Terrifying.”“It’s water to him, I swear. He conveniently forgot to mention that when he told me you guys hung out.”“Us older siblings exist to humiliate our baby brothers,” Akane defends their god-given right to torment. “So, Ikuya. It’s been about five years, I think?”“That would make sense.” How can he redirect this away from five years ago? “I never came back to visit.” Never, and he regrets it constantly. Five years without visiting his mother, and only seeing his friends at competitions. His complete and total lack of effort, especially in his happier years, is a tough pill to swallow. “I missed a lot.”“You’ll be here for a whole lot more than you missed,” Akane says. “Most of your memories will be here.”“I never thought of it that way.” It’s a lovely, hopeful thought. “I hope they’ll be good ones.”“They will,” Asahi declares. “No doubt about it.”“We’ll see. I’ve already made a few.”His declaration hangs in the air in a way he didn’t intend, ambiguous and wide open for interpretation. Too wide. “How’s Tsukushi?” he asks Akane, plucking his words from the air and steering the conversation away from wide open spaces. “He looks so grown up.”“Don’t even get me started,” Akane says with a roll of her eyes. “He’s right on the cusp of being embarrassed by my existence. I’d say we have about four months left until shit hits the fan.”“Were we like that?” Ikuya muses. “I don’t remember.”“It was the other way around with me. They’ll never live down being seen in public with my hyperactive ass. I’m not sure if I was a bad influence on you or not,” Asahi says. “You were always ready to pop off too.”“I was a powder keg.” That’s never really changed. Throughout his life, it’s taken different forms, but his emotions have always been heightened, always right beneath the surface. What form it is now has yet to be revealed, and he dreads the day it rears its ugly head. “You were just the match.”Asahi’s smile falters for less than a second. Like everything in his life, Ikuya has less than no clue what it means, which bothers him immensely. From the fleeting glimpses he gets of Asahi’s inner world, he builds narratives with no basis in reality, easily toppled by a light breeze.“You were a force of nature,” Asahi says. “Still are.”“Always were special,” Akane chimes in. Where is all this coming from? Where is Ikuya supposed to put all this? A force of nature. Special. Fascinating. He’s just someone trying to pick up the pieces. “You really should come by the café,” Akane moves on. “You were always Tsukushi’s favorite. He’ll probably have a big fat crush on you now.”“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” Asahi says, disregarding his nephew’s projected infatuation. “No pressure. Right, nee-chan?”“Right, right.” She waves him off and addresses Ikuya, “No pressure.” Then, directing an evil smile at her brother, “Otherwise he’d ki - ”“Nee-chan, I swear to god,” Asahi drowns her out. “Why can’t you get emancipated from your siblings?”
Ikuya would love to be a fly on the wall for their uncensored conversations.“I think I’d like to.” If he makes sure he has one of his support pillars present when he goes, it might not be so bad. If it is, at least he’ll have someone to run to. “Might want to tell Tsukushi the whole May-December romance thing won’t work out beforehand, though.”“Heartbreaker,” Akane laughs. “He’ll have to live with that rejection the rest of his life.”The rest of lunch is spent catching up, mainly on Akane’s end. Ikuya is limited in what he’s willing to share, and Asahi’s short-lived marriage doesn’t exactly make for lively conversation either. Lucky for them, Akane is more than willing to pick up the slack, skillfully avoiding any potentially charged moments. The result is a great meal with terrific company.Never one to forget his manners, Ikuya automatically joins Akane in the kitchen once they’re done, ready to take on clean up. As the guest, he offers to do it himself, but she rejects him, genuinely horrified by the notion. So the two of them clean up together, kicking Asahi to the curb and leaving him to his own devices in the living room.“I’m glad you came,” Akane comments, maneuvering around Ikuya as he scrubs an especially stubborn pan. “You made his day.”Oh. Okay. That’s…okay. “My brother said I should, so…” he trails off, hyper-aware of how childish he sounds. “But I would have come anyway.” News to him.“It’s interesting,” she says, regarding Ikuya thoughtfully. “You’re different. Around each other, I mean.” Meaning they actually talk to each other now? “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s like you’re both old before your time and learning how to be young again.” She spares a sympathetic smile for what Ikuya knows is his stunned expression and continues, “He’s been through it. No need to answer, but I wonder if you have too.”She knows. Not only about his turbulent history with Asahi. That’s a given. No, she knows.“Well, I wouldn’t call my twenties the best decade of my life,” he says, an acknowledgment without an answer. “I’m relieved they’re over.” He huffs a laugh before further clawing himself open to someone he’s always liked but never had a one-on-one conversation with. “Wish they’d stay over. Sometimes it feels like I’m old, but also stuck in my twenties. Does that make sense?”“Sure.” She takes over the washing and puts Ikuya on drying duty. “You’re also barely out of them. You’ve just lived too much for someone your age.” She fucking knows. “Anyway. The two of you - I think you’ll be fine. Good, even. Certainly better than your twenties.” She’s unusually nonjudgmental for someone who only knows one side of the story. “Alright, I think that’s it.”It takes him a second to realize she’s talking about the dishes. “Oh. Yeah. Uh, Akane?” he says before she can leave the kitchen. “Thank you. And…I hope he’ll be good. Asahi, I mean.”“Oh, he will. Stick around and see.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Look at you, hard at work.”Rin announces his presence as he always does, with well-meaning snark and a flash of his unnatural, dangerous chompers. Sometimes Ikuya wonders what his and Haru’s sex life is like with those teeth in the mix, and then he remembers the time he walked in on them during an impromptu outing to the zoo. Never mind.“Working hard or hardly working, right?” he quips, hitting pause on the lecture he’s watching. “What’s up?”“Oh, nothing.” Liar. “I’m assuming you haven’t checked your phone recently.”True. He’s had it on silent since he arrived this morning. Shame on him. “Guilty,” he says as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Did Haru accidentally sext both of us?”“Gross,” Rin grimaces. “And his idea of sexting is a bunch of canned mackerel and his - ”“Nope. Not another word.” He’s saddled with enough Rin and Haru trauma as it is. Turning his attention back to his phone, he sees the group chat is not an accidental sext from Haru, but an all-caps invitation from Nagisa. “He never changes,” he mutters.“So? Explain yourself,” Rin demands. “Why are we all getting an invite - no, more to the point, why are you in there?”“Short version? I ran into them. They’re exactly the same. Nagisa worked his magic. That about sums it up. Long version? No point.” More like he’s tired of recounting their run-in, and even more tired of people lauding his small, pathetic strides like he’s summited Mount Fuji. “You can imagine how freaked out I was.” He glances back down at the exclamation-point heavy request - command, really - that they all come over Saturday night. Against Ikuya’s wishes, his brother is in there, too, giving his enthusiastic assent before anyone else. Typical. “What do you think?”“I think I’m amazed,” Rin answers. Not what Ikuya was asking, but okay. “You’re really doing it. Going out there and getting a fucking life.”“It’s not like I had much say. I just bumped into them.”“You could’ve run away, but you didn’t.”“Nagisa would have thrown a butterfly net over me if I tried. Think you’ll go?”“If you’re going, then hell yeah,” Rin replies with another smile. “I think Haru can take a break from his busy bath schedule, too.”“I’m touched.” Weirdly, he is.“So, any other surprises?” Rin asks, cocking his head like he’s daring Ikuya to hide anything else from him. “You going out drinking with Sousuke and Makoto? Dating my sister? You’re dead if you are.”“Somehow, I don’t see that happening,” is Ikuya’s sardonic reply. “The whole being into men thing would really put a wrench in things.” He’s on the fence vis-à-vis what would likely be the shock of the century. “That’s all I’ve got.” The fence isn’t going anywhere. “Sorry to disappoint.”“Good. No more drama in your life.”“Famous last words.”Come Saturday evening, Ikuya has composed and deleted a novel’s worth of excuses for backing out of Rei and Nagisa’s shindig. He's sick, he’s tired, he has homework, he has class, his dog ate his homework, he’s running away to become a Buddhist monk, he ate his homework - all drafted and discarded as he alternated between pacing his apartment, hiding under the covers, and eating pistachio ice cream right out of the tub.He didn’t send a single one, and he thinks he deserves kudos for that. What remains to be seen is if he’ll actually go. Ghosting is absolutely not off the table. He showers, dresses, and gets his shit together, all with the air of someone headed to their execution. Ghost, ghost, ghost, his brain chants in a lovely, persuasive voice. Its siren song plays on repeat as he leaves his building, steadily increasing in volume as the train hurtles toward his destination. By the time he’s in front of Rei and Nagisa’s building, the voice is deafening.There’s still time. He hasn’t gone inside, no one knows he’s out here, and no one has to know. He could disappear, and no one would ever know he was there. In fact, that’s exactly what -“Thinking about making a run for it?”He releases a mortifying, high-pitched shriek, followed by an about-face so fast he almost loses his footing. “What the fuck, Aniki!” he cries, hand held to his chest where his heart is beating two thousand miles a minute. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”“Whoops,” his brother says, entirely and infuriatingly unapologetic. “But I’m right, aren’t I?”“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
His brother claps a hand on Ikuya’s shoulder. “Good thing you’ve got your own personal escort inside.” Ikuya’s answering scowl makes him laugh. “Just kidding. If you really don’t want to, I’ll cover for you.”Knowing his brother would not only cover for him, but understand why he needed to in the first place, makes Ikuya’s final decision an easy one. “No, let’s go. Nothing changes unless I do this.”So they head inside and up to Rei and Nagisa’s apartment, where his brother allows him to take as much time as he needs before knocking, which clocks in at about three laughable minutes. Finally he administers the world’s smallest, quietest knock. Nagisa must have been standing right at the fucking door, because not only does he hear Ikuya’s knock, he throws the door open before Ikuya’s even retracted his hand.“Iku-chan! Natsu-chan!” he practically shouts, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent hallway. “Rei-chan, they’re here!”He all but drags them inside, giving Ikuya no time to get his bearings. They’re herded into the living room, where Rin and Haru are already seated on one of the couches, drinks in hand. The familiar urge to bolt grows, quelled only by the weight of his brother’s hand on his shoulder.“Uh, hi,” Ikuya belatedly greets his host. “Thanks for having me.”“You’re the guest of honor!” Nagisa says.“We’re glad you could join us, Ikuya-senpai,” Rei’s voice floats out from the kitchen, from where he emerges seconds later. “It’s been too long.”“It has, hasn’t it?” he agrees, deciding to let the ‘senpai’ thing go. Rei without ‘senpai’ is no Rei at all. “I like the place.” Thanks to Nagisa, he’s barely been allowed to see it, but pleasantries are pleasantries.“What are we, chopped liver?” Rin complains. Haru just smiles, completely at home in the residence of his longtime kouhai and friends.“Hi, Haru,” Ikuya replies, needling Rin where he knows it’ll get a reaction. “Good to see you.”“Rude!”“Good to see you too,” Haru says, ignoring his husband’s indignant protests. Then, to their frenetic little host, “Nagisa, give him some space.”“Roger!” Nagisa answers obediently. “Iku-chan, sit down anywhere. Do you still like…hm.” He taps his chin as he racks his brain. “Oh! Spritzers! You like those, right?”Nagisa’s steel trap memory wins him a real smile. “That’s the one,” Ikuya confirms, more than a little touched. “Old lady white.”Drinks are served - over-poured and overly strong, courtesy of Rei’s heavy-handed bartending - and seats are taken, with Nagisa sprawled out on the floor while everyone else opts for more traditional seating.“To reunions!” Nagisa toasts, glass held high above his head. “And to Iku-chan! Welcome back.”“Hear, hear,” Rei nods, “to good friends.”As he often does these days, Ikuya has to blink back tears as a collective “Cheers!” and six overly large gulps of over-poured and overly strong drinks kick off the proceedings. Even after all this time, it’s no surprise that Nagisa downs his first drink in less than a minute, beating Rei by the skin of his teeth. Rei is the definition of the duality of man - polite to the point of absurdity, and absurd to the point of keeping pace with his energizer bunny of a husband. Naturally, his brother comes in a close third - and so does Ikuya, pulling up in a dead tie.“I haven’t seen you do that in years,” Rin observes with an approving smile. “Keep it up.”“I’m not trying to wake up wanting to die tomorrow,” he answers, even as he readily accepts a second drink. “I gave my Sunday away to Sake a few months ago.”“Oh?” his brother says with a quizzical brow. “News to me.”Oh, fuck him. He knows damn well what Ikuya’s referring to, and has decided to be a shithead about it.“Sorry. I’ll be sure to send my itinerary ahead of time from now on,” he snipes, shooting his brother a warning glare. “Dear Aniki, today I plan on consuming alcohol. Is that okay?”No one else inquires about the circumstances of his Sake-filled night, allowing him to keep his rekindled friendship with Asahi to himself. Once in a while, he’s struck by the impulse to share, but never acts on it. Their connection is such a delicate thing. The jackhammers and drills of his friends’ curiosity could easily shatter it. So he works his way through his second drink at a more moderate pace, ignoring the occasional knowing glance from his brother.“Sousuke finally got around to asking Makoto out,” Nagisa announces. “They went on their third date last week.”“Way too long coming,” Rin says. “The will-they-won’t-they was getting so fucking old.”“Who do you think bottoms?” a slightly red-faced Rei asks. He always was a lightweight. “I need to know. For theoretical purposes.”“Makoto,” everyone replies in unison.“Asked and answered.” Rei records their findings in what Ikuya assumes is the notes app on his phone. For theoretical purposes.More speculation around the latest couple and their sex life ping pongs around the room. Ikuya finds himself an active participant, slipping back into the group dynamic with unanticipated ease. The one sore spot is the lack of questions about what he’d been up to in London. While he appreciates their sensitivity, their knowing silence ironically casts a blinding spotlight on his secrets. Good thing there’s so much juicy gossip to distract them.“How’s the whole sitting still thing coming along?” he asks as Nagisa pushes a third drink into his hand.Nagisa plops back onto the floor. “So good!” he exclaims, crossing, uncrossing, and recrossing his legs. “Asa-chan helps me sometimes. Well, I kind of just show up at his place when I want help, but he always helps me when I do!”Huh. Asahi’s never mentioned. It makes sense, and it also makes Ikuya wonder if he asks Asahi enough about himself. Self-absorption and his need to be saved go hand-in-hand.“Speaking of,” Rei says, “Ikuya-senpai, you know about the divorce, right?”Ignoring the ‘uh oh’ look Rin and Haru exchange when they realize they never told him, Ikuya replies, “Yes. I was sorry to hear it. Surprised, too, if I’m being honest.” Technically, none of that was a lie. Just a few sins of omission. “They were so…perfect? Happy?” The words taste foul on their way out.Nagisa leans forward, nearly toppling over in his eagerness. “Right? They were so good for so long!”“Strange that marriage was what broke them,” Haru remarks, always unexpected in his insights. “They were already doing everything married people do.”“Yeah, all they were missing was a certificate,” Rin says. “But I swear things went to shit after, like, six months.”“Six months?” He distinctly remembers his brother saying the beginning of the end was one year in. “That soon?”“That’s when I noticed,” Rei chimes in. “It wasn’t much at first, just some passive-aggressive remarks from Aito. Asahi-senpai seemed surprised by them at first, but after a while you could see how frustrated they made him.” He swallows the remainder of his third - fourth? - drink. “A real shame.”Rin bumps his shoulder against Ikuya’s. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”“It’s whatever,” he shrugs. Not. As always, he’s overcome with the desire for any information he can get his hands on. All he’ll end up with is less understanding than before, but it’s like a drug. Every single time, he literally cannot help himself. “I don’t have the energy to be angry anymore.”“I think we need another,” his brother says just then, holding out his glass and grabbing Ikuya’s. “Stat.”“Isn’t that your sixth?”“Isn’t that your fourth?” his brother parrots back. “People in glass houses, buddy.”A now thoroughly flushed Rei clumsily pours the accused fourth drink. Considering he’s on his way to being toasted, the proportions are still perfect - which is to say, wildly out of proportion. Guess Ikuya’s getting wine-drunk tonight.“I overheard them the night we went out for karaoke,” Haru reveals. It’s always the quiet ones. “They were arguing in the hall when I went to find the bathroom.”Nagisa lets out a dramatic gasp and slams his drink on the floor, ignoring Rei’s wail of “Nagisa!” as tequila sloshes onto the carpet. “Haru-chan! I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us!”“Uh, same here?” Rin says, nonplussed. “Would love to have heard this two years ago. So? You sharing or what?”“Don’t rush me,” Haru frowns. “They were keeping it down. I almost couldn’t hear them over the music. But Aito was saying something along the lines of everything always coming down to some issue of Asahi’s that was getting between them and ruining what they had.”“One issue?” Ikuya can’t help interjecting. “Implying all their problems were Asahi’s fault?”“That was Asahi’s reaction, too. He said they’d talked about this a million times, and that Aito couldn’t keep using whatever it was to explain all their problems away and as a convenient excuse to never be at fault.”“Never mind us. I can’t believe you held out on me,” Rin accuses his husband. “That’s not nothing.”No shit, that’s not nothing. As expected, Ikuya has no idea what to make of it. Now he’s trying to connect the dots between his brother’s revelation from their wedding to a likely unrelated moment in a karaoke bar, when no matter how many puzzle pieces he collects, the only one who can assemble them is Asahi.“Should we try to guess what it was?” Nagisa suggests.“Never!” Rei looks positively aghast. “That would be - uh. Dreadful? Abominable? Bad? Lousy?” Ikuya knows the word he’s searching for, but watching him stumble tipsily through the valley of incorrect adjectives is too amusing to step in. “Naughty?”‘Naughty’ is what finally pushes Ikuya to take pity on him. “Improper?”“Yes! That would be most improper, Nagisa.”Nagisa pats his fiancé on the back. “Good job, Rei-chan. Now, who wants to go first? Wait, me! I’ll go first!” Of course he will. “Babies.”“Uh…what?” his brother asks.“Babies!” Nagisa repeats. “I bet Aito wanted them, and Asahi didn’t!”“Bullshit,” Ikuya snorts. “If either of them wanted kids, it was Asahi. Tell me he wouldn’t love being a dad.” Tell him why he’s so strong in his conviction.“You’re still the smartest, Iku-chan,” Nagisa sighs, giving in without a fight. “Asa-chan would be a great dad.” Ugh, he really would. “Daddy, even.” Never mind.“Nagisa!”“Sorry, sorry. Who’s next? Natsu-chan?”“Pass,” his brother says immediately. “I’m terrible at this.”Now it’s Ikuya’s turn to shoot a quizzical look his way. He knows for a fact his brother lives for shit like this, so why is he playing the clueless upright citizen? When he catches his eye, his brother shrugs it off with a smile and raises his seventh empty glass in Ikuya’s direction. Haru motions for Rei to stay right where he is and assumes the role of bartender.“If I must,” Rei says, his words starting to slur a bit. “I think - I think - he was terrible in bed!”This time, when Ikuya snorts, it’s out of shock and has white wine spritzer coming out his nostrils. “What?” he coughs.“We don’t know!” Rei insists. “Anything’s possible!”“Nah,” Rin disagrees. “For one, they were together for years before getting married. If sex was a problem, it wouldn’t have lasted all the way to marriage. Bad sex matters.” Emphatic agreement spreads through the room. “Second, that’s just straight-up not true, and we all know it. I only had to hear about how good Asahi is in bed, like, a thousand times, and Aito and I weren't all that close. There’s no way he didn’t talk your ear off about it too.”Ikuya wishes he could turn the clock back ten minutes to when Rin asked if he was okay talking about this. This isn’t what he signed up for. Given the company he’s in, he should have known it would come up. But wow, was he ever not ready for it. Back then, he avoided any solo time with Aito like the plague, mostly because he wanted to push him on a cliff, but partly because he would rather have died than hear him gush about exactly this. Those days are gone, but the way his gut twists at the thought apparently stuck around.Serves him right for getting down and dirty in the gossip swamp.“What a waste,” Nagisa says. “Rei-chan, should we ask him if he wants - ”“Nagisa! We said it can’t be anyone we - ”“Anyway,” his brother talks right over them, suddenly a beacon of propriety, “that makes two wrong guesses. Next?”“Everything was smooth sailing for Aito the whole time, and he couldn’t handle it when real problems started coming up?” Rin volunteers.A gleeful smile spreads across Nagisa’s face. “Oooh, catty. I like it.”“I don’t know,” his brother says, “things are bound to come up when you’re together that long. I doubt they had no experience working through things together.”“I wonder if it was always external issues, though,” Ikuya jumps in, eager to move the conversation away from their sex life. “Like, they were good at working through things happening to them. Not between them.”His brother elbows him in the ribs, nearly sending his drink flying. “Look at you, my emotionally intelligent little brother. So insightful.” That fucking knowing smile is going to earn him a drink right in the face.“Shut up,” he grumbles. “I’m just thinking out loud. Haru, what about you?”Haru shakes his head. “I gave up the information. That’s as much as you’re getting from me.”“Boo,” is Rei’s drunken response, eliciting surprised, delighted laughter from everyone. “Inquiring minds want to know!”“Iku-chan,” Nagisa says suddenly, “do you have any guesses?”“Nagisa!” absolutely everyone hisses. Cool. There goes that spotlight.“Yeah, I might not be the best person for this game,” Ikuya acknowledges. “But I do have a question.” A question he’s had since the first time he asked his brother if he knew why they split up. “What’s with the passive-aggressive comments about Aito?”“He was fine letting Asahi withdraw from everyone so the drama would stop,” Rin says without missing a beat. “Like he was owed it or something. And from what this secret keeper says - ” he glowers at his unaffected other half “ - that’s exactly what it was.”“He still doesn’t come out much,” Nagisa adds. “It sucks. Remember how out there he used to be all the time? I always tell him we just want him to have fun again! Like you, Iku-chan. You’re having fun, right?”Ikuya gives him an indulgent smile. “Yes, I am.” The deluge of new, confusing, and downright uncomfortable information aside, that’s the honest-to-god truth. “I’m glad I came.”“Wonderful!” Rei hiccups. “You were m - you - we missed you, Ikuya-senpai!”“We all did,” Haru says, backed by a chorus of agreement from Ikuya’s friends - his friends - and brother. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to make this all about Asahi.”“No, it’s okay,” he replies, waving Haru’s apology off. “I haven’t gotten to do something like this in a long time.” Yes, he’ll be replaying every word said here tonight in his mind for weeks to come. Doesn’t make it any less true. “You know. Just shooting the shit and being stupid.”His brother wobbles over to the bottle of bourbon sitting on the floor beside Rei. “You came to the right place and people for stupid.”Ikuya laughs loudly when his brother trips on his way back to the couch. “I think you mean person.”“Yeah, yeah,” his brother says, pulling himself off the floor. “Yuk it up. As long as you’re here, you’re allowed.”“Yeah, you get a free pass to treat us all like shit as long as you show.” Another round of approval comes from the peanut gallery. “To Iku-chan!” Rin raises his glass again as he echoes Nagisa’s words from earlier. “Welcome back.”This time, as a collective “Cheers!” accompanied by six overly large gulps of over-poured and overly strong drinks rings in the room, Ikuya does cry.Sunday’s predictably nasty hangover gives Ikuya no space to mull over the newest Asahi-related information dump. What little brain capacity he does have between rounds of painkillers and vomiting is given to how happy he is to have been so warmly, unconditionally embraced by his friends. Being welcomed back into the fold - celebrated, even - makes the splitting headache and upset stomach worth it.Monday is when it truly hits. Between reading, homework, and lectures, everything Asahi slithers around in his brain. The need to know what was being referenced in that karaoke bar is overpowering. What could possibly be so important it necessitated going over it a million times? He doesn’t waste his time considering any of the options put forth by his friends, all of them having been debunked right out the gate.The only response that sticks out in his mind is his brother’s lack of one. Does he know something? Is it worth asking, or will it just open a whole new can of worms? Fuck - he’s dying to know, and he absolutely does not want to know. He should really try to focus on the now. The dissolution of Asahi’s marriage is ultimately none of his business unless Asahi wants it to be. He should just be a supportive friend like Asahi is to him.The second can of worms comes courtesy of being forced to hear about their sex life. Thinking about the two of them together - he spent too much of his twenties tortured by it, and he certainly won’t be subjecting himself to it in his thirties.Despite his refusal to engage directly, the idea does serve a purpose. For the first time in forever, when he goes to bed Monday night, he thinks about how long it’s been since he got laid. Sex was the last good thing in his relationship after everything else had burned to the ground, and even that dried up before long. So really, it’s been well over a year.He thinks he’d like to. Problem is, casual sex holds no interest for him anymore, and he’s not exactly in a committed relationship. Getting out there and looking for a relationship is off the table. He will never put himself in a situation where he doesn’t know the potential dangers going into it ever again. So where does that leave him? Between a rock and a hard place, apparently.Okay, so some of the Asahi stuff might creep in. He wonders if Asahi’s out there getting some. Unlikely. Asahi is a self-professed hermit recovering from a divorce. How does Ikuya feel about that? He’d love it if someone could tell him, because he’s trying really hard not to go there on his own. For now, what matters are his classes and slowly re-expanding world, and that’s where his focus will stay. All the time. For real.With that in mind, the week comes at him fast, cycling through a wash, rinse, repeat of inspiring and exhausting higher education. Thursday’s here before he knows it, ejecting him onto the street at five p.m. after submitting an essay he’s been working on all week. He heads toward the train in a slight daze, only registering a familiar voice calling his name when its equally familiar owner pulls up in front of him.“Earth to Ikuya,” Asahi says. “You in there?” There’s a slight look of concern on his face, and - fuck, right. Obviously.“Shit, sorry,” he rushes to show proof of life and sanity. “My, uh. My homework ate my brain?”Relief floods Asahi’s features, bringing with it a mile-wide smile. “That’s a step up from the dog. Also, hi.”“Right. Hi. Wait, do you work around here?”“Usually? No. Today? Yes. I was interviewing Ikee Rikako.”“Yeah? Nice. She’s hot shit right now.”“Pretty chill, too. Good interview.”They’re just standing here chatting away in the middle of a crowded sidewalk, and he’s not inclined to stop. The only time he’s seen Asahi in the last month has been with his sister, and while she’s amazing, he’s really missed spending one-on-one time with him. They could resume their walk to the train, and he could take advantage of their fortuitous run-in and invite himself over. But now that he’s creeping out of his shell, why not keep the momentum up?“Want to go get a drink or something?” he asks. “I need to reclaim my brain.”Asahi brightens at the impromptu invitation. “Because alcohol always makes the brain work better,” he teases. “But yeah. Definitely.” He falls into step beside Ikuya, following wherever he may lead. “Wait, are we doing happy hour? Us?”“It’s only happy hour if we’re coworkers,” Ikuya points out. “We don’t have to get drunk to convince ourselves we’re friends.”“Well played.” They come to a stop in front of an izakaya Ikuya’s always thought looked cute, though he’s never set foot inside. “This it?”“Yup.”Surprisingly, it isn’t stuffed to the gills with fresh-off-the-clocks as he assumed it would be. There’s enough room for them to sit at a table instead of the bar, so they choose one tucked away in the back, a safe distance from the still considerable noise of people taking a load off.“Not bad,” Asahi remarks. “You have a good eye for this stuff.”Ikuya preens a tiny bit under his praise. “I like places where I can hear myself think, that’s all. And hear myself talk. And hear you talk. Following?”“That poetry? I’m hanging off every word.”Their repartee is put on hold with the arrival of their waiter. “Hold up,” Ikuya says as Asahi reaches for the drink menu. “I’ll choose the first round.”Who is he, and where is Ikuya hiding?“Bossy. I like it.”Ikuya gives him an innocent smile before making the world’s most obnoxious order. “We’ll have two Asahis, please,” he tells the waiter, holding two fingers up for emphasis. “Thanks.”“Terrible,” Asahi says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “And to think I was just saying you have good taste.”“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the most popular beer in Japan.”“I always wanted to be a popular beer when I grew up.”Their drinks come quickly - another point for Ikuya’s new favorite hole in the wall. It hasn’t quite hit him that he’s out in the world, having drinks with a friend around dozens of strangers instead of hiding out in his or someone else’s apartment. All he’s focused on right now is having a good time.“To you,” he proclaims, raising his glass to Asahi in the five thousandth toast he’s made or been part of since moving back.“To us,” Asahi counters.“I can live with that.”With the formalities taken care of, it’s on to the next order of business. Said order of business is simple - drinking and enjoying each other’s company, an easy task when the company is so good. He tells Asahi about his night at Rei and Nagisa’s, excluding the dissection of his divorce.“Rei’s an entertaining drunk, right?” Asahi says. “It’s like if you put his personality in a blender.”“That’s exactly it! Asking if Makoto bottoms for theoretical purposes, my ass. He’s as bad a gossip as Nagisa.”“Worse, maybe. He just keeps it under wraps better. Nagisa’s screaming it into a bullhorn.”“Speaking of,” Ikuya shifts into ‘I need to be a better friend’ mode, “Nagisa mentioned you’ve been helping him out?”“Oh, yeah. He’ll show up out of the blue asking for help, usually with tequila,” Asahi replies. “Almost always at a terrible time. But you know how it is - god couldn’t say no to him, and I sure as fuck can’t either.”“No one can.”“He’s a menace,” Asahi agrees. “Anyway, he’s so committed and into it. I do think he’ll be good at it once he figures out how to channel his energy. He’s just so all over the place.”“You’re doing him a huge favor. He’s learning from a pro,” Ikuya compliments him.“What am I going to do, say no?” Asahi says, looking slightly embarrassed by Ikuya’s praise. It’s cute. “We’ve already established that’s impossible. I’m sure I’ll be hearing all about you the next time he comes by. And I’m glad it went so well on Saturday. That has to be a huge relief.”“It really is. Worth the god-awful hangover.” What he says next is unplanned and lands him squarely on one side of the fence. “You should come next time.”Everyone will be totally normal and totally understand and totally won’t lose their shit when they see the two of them not only in the same room, but acting like close friends. Which they are. No one will lose their goddamn mind.“Seriously?” Asahi stares at him incredulously. “You’re okay with that?”The exchange is the closest they’ve come to acknowledging the disastrous end of their friendship since they reunited. An izakaya on a Thursday night is hardly the place for a conversation Ikuya is petrified of having and would love to avoid for as long as humanly possible, so he dodges.“I’m very okay with it.” Last chance, can’t take it back. “We’re all friends, right?” No more hiding. Only panic attacks.“Right,” Asahi says after clearing his throat. “Okay, yeah. Next time, for sure.”Ikuya gives Asahi the option of choosing the next round. Asahi’s committed to the bit, though, and orders more of his namesake. After that, there’s no going back. It’s Asahi or nothing.“There’s this American singer,” Ikuya tells him as they start their third beer - he’s got a nice buzz going and doesn’t intend to go further. There will be no redux of Saturday tonight. “Joni Mitchell. I listened to her a lot when I was living there.”Asahi rests his head in his hand. “I’m always up for an Ikuya travel story.”“Amazing songwriter. She just…gets it.”“I’ll have to give her a listen. With Japanese liner notes, I guess. Any reason she came to mind?”“Yes. She has a song where she sings - ” he takes a second to translate the lyrics in his head “ - the lyrics are ‘I would drink a case of you.’” He taps the side of his glass. “Like we’re doing right now.”“A whole case? I think we might die.”“Maybe not a case,” Ikuya laughs. “Something more manageable.”“Yeah?” Asahi says with a playful smile. “So, how many of me are you having tonight?”Ikuya’s hand twitches on the table. “So far, two.” Then, unsure whether it’s the beer or all Ikuya talking, “But I think one is more than enough.”Asahi leans forward slightly. “So two and three are bonuses?”“Something like that,” he says, tracing lines in the condensation on the glass. “Or maybe it’s two, three, and this one is four, since you’re the original.”“I’m your number one, huh? Won’t catch me complaining.” Ikuya feels a foot touch his under the table, there and gone before he can tell if it’s accidental. “Too bad there’s no drink named after you.”The back of Ikuya’s neck is warm. “If there were, what would it be?” he asks, imitating Asahi and leaning in. “And it can’t have pistachio. That’s cheating.”“I would never. Hm, okay.” Asahi’s brow furrows like he’s giving it some real thought. “Not too sweet. Definitely strong.”“Strong and not too sweet. Color me interested.”The corner of Asahi’s mouth tugs up in a half-smile. “That’s the goal. Absinthe’s in there.”“Absinthe?” Ikuya says. “Doesn’t get stronger than that.”“Or more unique.”Force of nature. Special. Fascinating. Unique.“Don’t leave me hanging,” he urges. “We were just getting to the good part.”“I’m all over it. Part of me wants to say whiskey.” Asahi takes a sip of his beer. When he sets it down, he leaves his hand on the table next to Ikuya’s. “But it needs something softer.” He withdraws his hand, brushing against Ikuya’s as he does. “Champagne.”“Absinthe and champagne,” Ikuya hums. “I’d drink that.”“So would I.” Asahi’s eyes flick over him, sending smooth, velvet warmth spilling down his spine. “I’d have it every time.”Unthinking, Ikuya bites his lip. “Then let’s have one next time.”“Yeah. Maybe two.”Something molten spreads through Ikuya’s whole body, and he leans in a little farther. “Make it three.”Asahi visibly swallows. “Three is good.”Asahi’s phone chooses that exact moment to go off. It looks like his intent is to ignore it, but then it goes off again, and again, and again.“Fuck, sorry,” he says as he unlocks his phone to see who simply cannot live without his attention. “Shit. It’s nee - my sister,” he explains, glaring holes through the screen. “Date night babysitter canceled last minute. I don’t have to - ”“No, don’t worry,” Ikuya insists, burying his disappointment as the sounds of the izakaya that had faded away come pouring back in. “Go help her out. We can always hang out this weekend or something.”“True,” Asahi replies, adorably put out. “I’ll pay.”“You don’t have to do that,” he protests.“I know. I want to.”“I - alright,” he caves, fighting the urge to put his foot down. “Thank you.”So Ikuya allows him to pay for what was almost a case of him, and they reluctantly reenter the heaving sea of life that is the streets of Tokyo on a Thursday night.“I guess I’ll see you soon?” Ikuya asks.“Absolutely. I’ll call you.”Like he sometimes does, Asahi appears to be in indecision city over something. Ikuya waits, possibly for something, possibly for nothing, until Asahi decides which way the train’s leaving town.“Well, tell your sister - ”Before he can finish, Asahi takes his hand and draws him in, and without a second’s hesitation, Ikuya sinks into the arms that wrap around him. He breathes deep and holds Asahi close as the noise of the city vanishes all over again.“I didn’t get to tell you last time,” Asahi murmurs, “how much I missed you when I was away.”Ikuya’s breath catches in his throat. This is a language he hasn’t spoken in a long, long time, a language he hardly remembers anymore. This is a language he’s terrified to speak, yet here he is, trying to recall the days when he was fluent.“I missed you too,” he says quietly, pushing further into the embrace. “A lot.”This is a language worth relearning.The following week is brutal.He’s tormented by not one, not two, but three dreams, all wrenching him from sleep covered in icy terror and sweat. They’re always different, and they’re always the same - he’s dragged away, all the way to his flat that wasn’t really his by the end, knowing he’ll never see anyone he loves ever again and resigning himself to a long life of endless, inescapable pain.His brother said he should call him if it happened again. All three times, he picks up his phone, opens his brother’s contact, then puts the phone down. If these are going to be a regular part of his life, he can’t constantly be reaching out. His brother signed up to be supportive, not a babysitter. Besides, they’re only dreams. So what if he doesn’t go back to sleep? There will be nights when there are no dreams when he can catch up on the hours he misses.Sadly, his body violently disagrees. Twice he misses his stop on the train, and more than twice, he falls asleep at his desk while a lecture goes unpaused and unwatched. Rin finds him like that on Wednesday morning and wakes him with a gentle shake.“Morning, sunshine.”“Mm. Who? Oh, shit.” He sits up far too fast, disoriented as the fuzziness of sleep wears off, and he remembers where he is. “Weird. Sorry. Hi?”“You sleeping?” Rin asks. “Other than here, I mean. Because you’ve been doing a lot of that this week.”“Sure,” he lies. “Same as always.”“Uh-huh. Go home.”“What?” Ikuya sits straight up at his desk. “Why? I’m sorry I’ve been so off this week, I - ”“Oh my god, I’m not firing you.” His voice is full of exasperation, filling Ikuya with shame. “I want you to go home and sleep. I guarantee your bed is more comfortable than your desk.”No, he can’t do that. Who’s to say he won’t just drift off into another dream? He can sleep or not sleep on his own time without wasting Rin’s. “No, I’ll be fine. Just been a weird week, that’s all.”“Ikuya, my friend, my rival, my one and only head of brand management,” Rin says, “that wasn’t a suggestion. The lecture’s prerecorded, it’s not going anywhere. Go sleep for twenty-four fucking hours.”Shame turns to anger - not at Rin, but at himself for putting Rin in a position where he needs to take care of him, and at work no less. Ikuya’s meant to be taking things off his plate, not adding to it. He won’t keep arguing, though. If Rin needs him to sleep, he’ll at least try.“Alright,” he says, closing his laptop and gathering his things. “I’m really sorry.”“Don’t be,” Rin replies, waving off his apology. “I’ll only be pissed if you don’t come to my place on Saturday because you wouldn’t go home and sleep.”“Is that an invitation…?”“No. It’s a threat. Everyone’s coming. Well, everyone but Sousuke and Makoto. They’re having some romantic fuck session at an onsen for the weekend.”“Ah. The fabled theoretical bottom.”“In theory only.” Rin raps his knuckles on the desk like a schoolteacher. “Now go. I want to hear your snores all the way from here.”“Excuse you. I do not snore,” Ikuya sniffs. “I’m a dainty sleeper.”“Keep telling yourself you’re a dainty anything,” Rin says as he turns to leave. “Take tomorrow if you need it. I’ll just keep sending you home if you don’t.”
Then he’s gone, leaving Ikuya alone to face the gauntlet of sleep.When Ikuya enters his apartment, he nearly dies on the spot.“Fucking - at least text me so I know you’re here!” he yelps when his brother emerges from the kitchen, beer in hand. “I almost had a heart attack.”“You know what, you’re right,” his brother says, downing half his beer in one go. “Sorry. I won’t do it again. You know what I’d love for you to not do again?” He pulls out his phone, and oh fuck you, Rin. “I’d love for you to not pretend like you’re fine when you’re not.”“They’re just dreams,” he argues, unconvincing even to himself. “I won’t die.”“You don’t have to be dying to ask for help. I thought we went over this?”“Yeah, just - hold on, I need to go change.”Between Rin and his brother, there’s too much happening all at once. For two people who want him to sleep so badly, they’re sure as fuck not letting him relax. He shuts the door to his room and changes into sweats, then sits on the floor with his back against the door. Breathing isn’t coming easy, and the tears certainly don’t help. He scrubs at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, willing himself to cut the shit and pull himself together. Neither happens.“Ikuya?” his brother’s voice comes from the other side of the door. “Want to open up?”“No,” he answers, embarrassment and petulance driving his response.“Come on. I’m sorry I was a dick.” He hears his brother sigh. “Can I please come in?”Still caught in that juvenile headspace, he silently scoots away from the door, curling in on himself on the floor next to the bed. No verbal invitation is given, but in this case, his brother’s tendency to invite himself anywhere and everywhere works in his favor. He hears Ikuya’s silence and lets himself in, reaching him in two long strides and joining him on the floor.“Sorry,” he says again. “For not letting you know I was here and for coming at you like that.” He throws an arm around Ikuya’s shoulders. “I just don’t know how to convince you to let me be there for you sometimes. But I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you.”Ikuya leans against him, sniffling and wiping his eyes. “You can’t come running at one a.m. three times a week for the same old shit. When do you get to sleep?”“Ikuya.” His brother fixes him with his best ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ look. “I show up to work on one hour and two six packs three times a week. This is nothing.”“How have you not gotten fired? How are you not dead?”“I might be, legally. My death aside, what I’m trying to say is not only do I not mind, I want to come over at one in the morning. I’ll keep telling you that until it gets through your thick little skull.” He flicks the side of Ikuya’s head, laughing at the murderous glare he gets in response. “Think of it as keeping me from those two six packs.”“I don’t get it,” Ikuya says, tugging on the drawstring of his hoodie. “I’m doing mostly okay. I have a job. I’m taking classes. Those are the same thing, but whatever. My friends are still my friends, and I’m hanging out with them. So why is this happening?”“Because it hasn’t actually been that long.” There’s quiet for a moment. “And you never talk about it. Which is okay,” his brother assures him. “You don’t have to. But your brain’s going to brain, and it’s going to try to deal with it on its own. And your brain’s never been nice to you.”He sure feels like a prisoner of it sometimes.“You’re not allowed to be wise.”“What can I say? You were blessed with a perfect brother. Now,” he moves on, “you don’t have to talk, but you do have to sleep. I’ll be here the whole time.”Guilt mixes with relief knowing he won’t be alone. A twisted part of him has come to associate his brother with a good night’s sleep - Ikuya’s first peaceful sleep in over a year had come with his brother’s arrival in London. For the first time in over a year, the sounds of life in his flat signaled safety instead of danger.“Okay. But you have to promise to sleep too.”“Only if you promise to wake me up if you - ”“If I have a bad dream?” This is humiliating. “Ugh, fine. I’ll ask for an extra bedtime story too.”His brother shoots him a big, doofy grin. “I’ll tell you all about the night I pissed off the Rainbow Bridge.”“I take back the wise comment,” he frowns. “And look, the - the stuff.” See? He’s doing great. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t talk about it. I literally can’t. I know that doesn’t make sense. It just lives in the back of my mind. This is going to sound so weird, but - it’s stuck on the roof of my mouth. Like peanut butter or something. I’m always swallowing around it.”“Sounds uncomfortable,” his brother says. “There’s no shame in talking to someone else about it, by the way. Like, someone whose job it is to - ”“No,” he interrupts, forceful enough to brook no argument. Doing what his brother’s suggesting would mean picking it apart and reliving it on a weekly basis. Just thinking about it makes him feel sick. “There’s no way.”“Understood,” his brother backs off without question.His acquiescence brings on a new wave of guilt. All his brother ever does is help, and here Ikuya is, throwing his well-meaning suggestion in his face. “No, I’m sorry. It’s a good suggestion. Maybe one day.” Never.“Take it a day at a time. Right now, you’re going to bed. Or else.”“Whatever you say, your majesty.”“I think you're projecting, mermaid princess - when the fuck did you get so violent?”Since he now has a mandated bedtime of noon, he dismisses his soon-to-be-bruised brother and does his whole pre-bed routine. As he’s washing his face, he remembers Rin’s not-quite-invitation. He hadn’t properly processed it then, but now that his mind’s caught up, he realizes what it means for him, and what it means fills him with nerves and an odd sense of giddiness.“Aniki?” he calls as he heads to the living room, where his brother is starting on another beer. “I need your opinion on something.”“Voluntarily?” he asks. “It must be important. What’s up?”“Do you think everyone would die if I invited Asahi on Saturday?”The pure, unadulterated glee that lights up his brother’s face is so very, deeply slappable.“Define die.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Like the coward he is, Ikuya waits until after he’s left work on Friday to ask Rin if they can invite Asahi. The number of times three dots appear and disappear as Rin likely picks the pieces of his shattered brain off the floor is too many to count. When a response finally does come, it’s both kinder than and exactly what he expected.
uh…okay
but we’re not working on monday
you’ll be spending the day explaining this
At least he has a few days to formulate an explanation, during which he will not formulate an explanation. Denial is a hell of a drug.His brother, creep that he is, is practically doing cartwheels over finally getting to see their friendship up close and personal. Ikuya is excited to integrate the two disparate parts of his fractured life. He’s also terrified. Until now, their reconnection has existed in a vacuum, a world where they don’t have to explain themselves - to others or each other. It’s simply been. There’s an inevitable spotlight waiting to be cast, and Ikuya can only hope it won’t be so bright it burns.Saturday comes without any friend-related panic attacks. He’d jumped an unimaginable hurdle last weekend, and now he’s looking forward to seeing his friends. There might be one or two - or three, or four - Asahi-related panic attacks. His brother spends the afternoon convincing him everything will be fine, even as he can barely sit still at the prospect of everything being fine. Physician, heal thyself.“Seriously,” he tells a jittery Ikuya as they arrive at Rin and Haru’s building, “even if it’s weird at first, people will get over it once they start having fun. Or drinking.”“Both, in your case.”“Can’t spell fun without drinking.”“Mom would be so proud.”They’re greeted by Haru, who, by the looks of it, has all but tied his husband to the couch. “Ignore him,” he says. “He knows he’s supposed to keep his mouth shut until Monday.” Haru himself has an air of quiet curiosity about him, but his impulse control far outstrips Rin’s. “Drink?”“I’m good,” Ikuya replies. “I’ve about hit my quota for the week.”“I’ll have his,” his brother bravely steps in. “All of them.”Nagisa and Rei are next, a whirling dervish and his soon-to-be improper foil.“Iku-chan!” Nagisa cries when he sees him, bypassing Haru-chan and Rin-chan in favor of his newly reacquired chan. “You came!”“You thought I wouldn’t?” he laughs, pleased to find he isn’t anywhere as overwhelmed as last week.“I knew you couldn’t stay away,” Nagisa says with an evil grin. “Right, Rei-chan? We know how to reel them in.”“That’s so sinister,” Rin remarks as Rei voices his flowery but equally sinister agreement. “Makes you two sound like a couple of kidnappers.”Nagisa waggles his eyebrows in a decidedly sinister fashion. “You never know, Rin-chan.”Ikuya settles on the couch beside his brother, foregoing alcohol for a glass of melon soda. This is comfortable. Still a lot all at once, but comfortable. He’ll have to avoid Rin for most of the night, seeing as he looks like he’s about to crawl out of his skin and he’s barely finished his first drink. Things aren’t going to improve.Thirty minutes pass before the doorbell rings again. Haru cuts Rin off at the pass and goes to greet the late arrival, who can only be one person. A few words of welcome are exchanged before Asahi comes inside, looking slightly anxious, slightly excited. His eyes immediately find Ikuya’s, and a less anxious smile makes its way onto his face. It’s knocked right off a second later, replaced by a surprised wheeze when he’s hit by a projectile Nagisa.“Asa-chan! You came!” Guess Ikuya isn’t as special as he thought. “I can’t believe they got you to come out!”“Nice to see you too, you demon,” Asahi says, ruffling Nagisa’s hair. Then he gives everyone else a smile and wave. “Hey, guys.”“Asahi!” His brother beckons him over, ensuring Ikuya’s sandwiched between them and that he gets a front-row seat to their interactions. Asshole. “Been a few weeks, buddy.”“Good to see you, man.” They shake hands for some reason, like a couple of bros. “Glad to see you lived.”“I’m like a cockroach. No drink can kill me.”“That’s not something to brag about,” Ikuya deadpans before turning his attention to Asahi. “Hey.”“Hey, yourself.” Asahi scooches a little closer and says in a lower voice, “Who invited all these people?”“This is all against my will.”It strikes Ikuya that the last time they were all together in Japan, he and Asahi would have been on opposite sides of the room. Ikuya would have avoided Asahi’s eyes and company, loath to engage in any kind of conversation. Asahi would have had Aito on his arm and Kisumi at his side, operating as Ikuya’s replacements. Which is to say nothing of the last time they were all together in any capacity.In Belgium.Deep breaths. That was then. This is now.A positively quaking Rin welcomes Asahi. “Long time no see,” he manages to get out. “Glad you could make it.” Miraculously, he’s able to stop the swinging pendulum of his gaze long enough to remember his manners. “Drink?”“Oh, no thanks.” Asahi nods at Ikuya’s drink. “I’ll have what he’s having.”“Sure. What he’s having,” Rin repeats. “Sure.”He toddles off to get Asahi’s drink and have a meltdown in the kitchen, leaving them doing their best not to laugh.“Would you believe he runs a successful business?” Ikuya asks.“I’d kill to see him in a meeting with his investors.”They may be taking it easy on the drinks tonight, but their friends are dead set on destroying their livers. Drink two is in their hands within five minutes, or in the case of his brother, drink three. How is he alive?“I’m amazed we were able to get you out of the house, Asahi,” Rin addresses the other hermit in the room, unable to keep his silence. “It’s been a few months.”“Yeah, I know,” Asahi says. “You know me. I’m less rise and grind, more grind and sleep.”Ikuya wonders if his own excuses sound so paper-thin. They probably do. “I’m more sleep and sleep,” he jokes, which is also blatantly untrue.“You would be if I had my way,” Rin retorts, making Ikuya feel terribly exposed. “You need a whole week of sleep.”“Guess not everyone sleeps as easy as you,” Asahi answers in Ikuya’s stead, lightning quick. His tone is light, almost playful, but there’s a defensive edge to his words. “Tell us your secrets, oh well-rested one.”Not once has Ikuya ever mentioned his dream-induced insomnia to him.“Sleep is for the weak!” Nagisa says, whose blissful ignorance might not be so ignorant. “We’re just getting started. We get to hang out with two people we don’t see enough, so liven up! I’m looking at you, Rin-chan.”Rin, who’s as soft for Nagisa as anyone else, backs down, properly chastised. He sends an apologetic look to Ikuya, who accepts the apology with a small shake of his head, though it doesn’t instantly restore his balance. That Rin is so disturbed is…disturbing.Deep breaths. Rin doesn’t get to dictate his experience.“I fell asleep watching a crab documentary,” Asahi volunteers.“It wasn’t a crab documentary,” Ikuya says. “They were half an episode.”“But they were the best part.”“Finally, the truth.”Rin’s eye is twitching, Haru is watching them in fascination, and his brother is unabashedly staring from where he’s pouring his fourth drink of the extremely young evening. It’s weird, yes, but so far, the spotlight hasn’t surpassed room temperature.“You should show him the bird-watching documentary,” his brother comments as he sits back down. “Ikuya loves that one.”“How dare you slander me like that.”“Can we watch it, though?” Asahi asks. “For science.”Ikuya huffs a laugh. “Fine. For science.”This is okay. Everything’s going fine. The people he assumed would be ridiculous are being ridiculous, but apart from the one snag, he’s starting to think he needn’t have panicked quite so much. This was the right move.“So, Rei, who’s the groomzilla?” he asks once he’s finished his soda, feeling relaxed and curious. “Or maybe I should be asking who the visionary is.”“Funny you should ask,” Rei answers proudly, as though his forthcoming explanation is anything but obvious. “I’ve spent months reading up on optimal scenarios for successful weddings. It has to be beautiful, of course, and I’ve come up with a foolproof - ”“Rei-chan asked Momo to help him find bugs,” Nagisa interrupts.“Nagisa! They’re not bugs. They’re butterflies. It’s a seamless transition with perfect continuity from the proposal!”Highly entertained and not a little curious, Ikuya says, “I missed the proposal. I need a who, what, when, where, and why.”Rei’s the motor mouth tonight, jumping in before Nagisa can give his version of events. “We went to Okinawa for a long weekend. Nagisa insisted we go to Ryugujo Butterfly Garden - ”“He begged me to go after I suggested it.”“If I may finish, Nagisa,” Rei says with a miffed expression, “I made us wear red because butterflies are notoriously attracted to the color.” Judging by everyone’s faces, that piece of trivia isn’t notorious in the least. “So when Nagisa proposed, we were covered in butterflies. It made it a little difficult to talk, or hug, or cry, but it was perfect.” Ikuya knows he means it - Rei is incapable of lying.“You didn’t see the video on Instagram, Iku-chan?” Nagisa asks. “They said I couldn’t, but they actually ended up filming it themselves!” Of course they did. There’s no saying no to Nagisa.“No. I deleted the app a while ago,” he admits. Too many reminders of what he missed and what he used to be, all staring him in the face, taunting him. “I’d love to see it.”Before either Rei or Nagisa can produce the requested video, Asahi’s handing him his phone. “This one,” he says, tapping a post from a little over a year ago. “You might want to turn the volume down.”“Thanks for the pro tip,” he replies with an amused, grateful smile. Following said pro tip, he lowers the volume, and is so glad he did. It’s about as loud as one would expect. There are near-shrieks from Rei, joyous shouts from Nagisa, and - and it’s enormously moving. They’ve been together for what, thirteen years? This was a long time coming. Though inconvenient and chaotic, the butterflies make for a truly beautiful moment tailored perfectly to everything they are. “This is lovely. Good work, Nagisa.”Nagisa beams. “It’s the best, right? Asa-chan, you did a big thing too, right? Where did you propose?”The old, familiar sensation of his heart dropping hits Ikuya like a punch to the solar plexus, catching him flat-footed and unprepared. No, this is fine. It’s just a story now, right?Deep breaths. That was then. This is now.Asahi shifts on the couch. Considering the raw nature of Nagisa’s question, Asahi shows no sign of discomfort. If he is uncomfortable, he’s hiding it astoundingly well. “Yeah. I mean, you saw it. He was all about astronomy, so I figured a planetarium was the right move. He was into big romantic gestures too, so it went over pretty well. I got permission for my sister to film it a week in advance, unlike you,” he nods to Nagisa, “living by the seat of your pants.”Right. Astronomy. Ikuya had been so torn up about the engagement itself he’d never bothered to absorb the finer details. In a city where they’re invisible above the blinding lights, long before they fell apart, Asahi literally gave him the stars. Talk about a grand gesture. Talk about something Ikuya’s always -Deep breaths. That was then, this is now.Does he need a drink?“How beautiful,” Rei sighs as Rin collects glasses for refills. Rei is taking on a familiar flush, well on his way to the spectacle that is drunk Rei-chan. “What about you, Ikuya-senpai?”Uh. “What about me? I don’t have any engagement stories.” He needed saving from his forever.“But what would you want?” Rei pushes, apparently farther along with the no-filter thing than Ikuya thought. “What would your big moment be?”“Private,” is his sudden, decisive response. “No videos. No pictures. Preferably no one around. Not that yours wasn’t stunning and romantic, because it was,” he says to Rei and Nagisa. “But for me, it would feel like a performance.” Lord, that sounded so bitter. He couldn’t even get it together to acknowledge Asahi, a glaring omission uncharacteristic of how they are now. For a split second, it was like he was back there, an angry, devastated twenty-five-year-old. He shrinks slightly, embarrassed by his abrupt, borderline rude candor. “Yours was amazing too,” he tells Asahi in a weak attempt to backpedal. The smile he gets from Asahi is genuine but not wholly reassuring, just slightly off-center.“You always were private, Iku-chan,” Nagisa says, getting ahead of the awkward silence Ikuya knows was about to fill the room. “And you can keep it that way!”“It’s all hypothetical, anyway,” Haru adds.Asahi isn’t speaking, but Ikuya hears him go silent. Maybe it’s a side effect of his own dead silence, ringing in his ears as he squeezes his thigh, digging his fingers in until it hurts.“Want to hear how I’d propose?” his brother asks in an effort to take the attention off of Ikuya. “I’d do a tour of Suntory, Kirin, Sapporo - ”“I think you have ‘proposal’ mixed up with ‘beer factory crawl,’” Rin says. “Something tells me that’s not what Nao…”Rin’s voice fades into the background as Ikuya does his best to recall what breathing feels like. No dice. So he excuses himself in what he prays is a calm voice, then rushes down the hall and locks himself in the bathroom.This is fine. He’s fine. All of that is over, right? Ancient history. They’re different people now. Their friendship is different now. Tonight was supposed to be weird for his friends, not him. So why is he locked in Rin and Haru’s bathroom, short of breath and staring down his once-unblemished face in the mirror?“Get it together, Kirishima,” he says to his reflection. “Act like an adult.”Improbably, though it takes a good five minutes, he gets it together. His breathing slows, and his body temperature decreases until he’s in good enough shape to rejoin his friends. This is fine. He’s fine. He fends off his brother’s questioning look and avoids - fuck, avoids - Asahi’s anxious one with a small smile and tunes back into the conversation, which has devolved into Nagisa demanding they play a drinking game.“I’m not drinking,” Ikuya reminds him. “I don’t think I count.”“Doesn’t matter! No one’s getting out of this one!”Awesome.“Fine. What are we playing?”Nagisa cements his demon status with a stage-whispered “Truth or drink.” Fan-fucking-tastic. “Let’s see, who gets to go first,” Nagisa hums thoughtfully as he looks around the room. “Natsu-chan!”“Terrible choice,” Ikuya says. “He always - ”“Drink.”“Yeah, that.”“You didn’t even let me ask a question!” Nagisa cries.“You named the game,” his brother shrugs, downing his drink and handing his glass to a somewhat reluctant Haru. “Now I get to choose. Hm…Haru.” He points to a resigned, mid-pour Haru. “Haru, since I know nothing embarrasses you, what’s Rin’s most embarrassing fantasy?”“What the fuck?” Rin says.“I don’t think it’s embarrassing to role play cops and mermaids,” is Haru’s incredible lead-in. “I’d paint my nails.”Rin turns bright red as the room explodes with laughter. “Haru! I can’t believe - this is the worst night of my life.”“What’s wrong? I said I’d do it.” Moving on as though he’d merely commented on the weather, he scans the room for the next victim. “Rei.” Rei is in full-flush mode now, openly flattered at being selected by his senpai. Some things never change. “Rei. If you had to choose between steak and mackerel at your wedding, which would you choose?”“Haruka-senpai! I told our - ” oh no, here he goes again “- courier? Cartier? Food man?”“Caterer,” Ikuya says.“Caterer! I told our caterer to add it to your meal specifically!”It’s the closest Ikuya’s ever seen Haru come to openly weeping since Fukuoka.“Iku-chan! No, senpai!” Rei points an accusing finger. Then, like a lawyer seeking the truth, he asks, “What are you best at in bed?”“Oh, for god’s sake,” his brother groans. “If you answer, I’m leaving the room.”“He has to answer!” Nagisa chimes in. “Unless you want to start drinking the good stuff, Iku-chan.”“Alright, bye.” His brother gets up and leaves.This sucks. Two years ago, this question would have been fun. He used to know beyond a shadow of a doubt, but it’s been so long he has no idea if he’d be any good now. He’d rather not answer, but he doesn’t want to make a big thing of it, and no one’s swooping in to save him.“Uh. I guess…um. Giving head?”“Oh shit!” Nagisa crows. “Great question, Rei-chan!”“That’s great, Ikuya,” Haru says, so fucking sincerely.Asahi says nothing. Ikuya can’t bring himself to look at him, though he’s hyper-conscious of his presence.“It’s not a big deal. You asked, I answered. Can we please move on?” he asks, swallowing a sudden surge of shame. Without waiting for an answer, he points to Rin. “Did you buy a cop outfit?”“Yeah, did you?” His brother reappears like he’s come back from the dead to witness Rin’s humiliation.“Drink!” Rin says, throwing back his entire glass.“So, yes.”“I can show you the receipt,” Haru offers.“I hate everything about tonight,” Rin grumbles. “God damn it. Alright, Asahi.” He turns his attention to hermit number two and says, “When are you downloading one of those stupid apps and getting back out there?”Ikuya’s return to form falls apart faster than a failed Jenga tower. Why would Rin ask that? He knows. He knows. Memories of those nine words suggesting Asahi download an app, helping him make his fucking profile, and sitting on the sidelines as Asahi went out with person after person, once, twice, three times, four times, until eventually Ikuya was meeting his future husband all flood in at once. They’re vivid in a way they haven’t been in years, making him physically ill. He bites the inside of his cheek. Hard.“Never,” Asahi answers, startling Ikuya enough for a momentary reprieve from the rising tide of memories. “You couldn’t pay me to get back on one of those.”“Don’t give up, Asahi-senpai!” Rei cries, and are those literal tears in his eyes? “The right one is out there!”This isn’t fine. He isn’t fine.One more round. He’ll stay for one more round, then he’s fucking out of here. He needs to go home. He needs to be alone.“Yeah, I’m about done with that question,” Asahi says. “Can we do some normal questions now?”“Sure,” Haru replies, speaking for the group. “Right, everyone?”“Aw,” Nagisa pouts. “Fine. But we’re starting over! Me first!”“What could go wrong?” Asahi mutters under his breath.The questions do err on the tamer side after that. Good thing, too, because despair completely disproportionate to Asahi’s answer is building inside Ikuya, gnarled and ugly. They stay easy - have you ever stolen anything, what kind of underwear do you wear, tell us about your race in the Danube, do you miss swimming - right up until they don’t. Or rather, the question is easy, but it’s posed to the wrong person, and abutted by an even wronger person.“Asahi-senpai,” Rei says, “of all the tournaments you swam in, what was your favorite?”Ikuya still hasn’t been able to look at him, and he fucking hates it. So he can’t see Asahi’s face when he answers, “This might be weird, and Haru, please don’t take this the wrong way - but I think my favorite was Fukuoka.”“No offense taken,” Haru says with a small, kind smile. They always did have a nice friendship. “Why?”“Well, for one, it was my first time at Worlds. I know I didn’t swim in a relay or win anything, but we were all there together. Sorry Nagisa, Rei. You were there, though. I don’t know,” he goes on, “it was also the last time we felt like kids.”And the first, last, and only time they’d swum together on the world stage as friends.Ikuya’s memories of Fukuoka are good ones. He’d won his first-ever individual medal, swam in a relay with his brother, and helped win gold for Japan in a second, unforgettable relay. Asahi’s right. It was the threshold between life as it was and life as it became. Another brief, golden moment, and the beginning of Ikuya’s long goodbye. He looks down at his empty glass, unable to parse everything he doesn’t want to feel or remember.“That was special,” Rin agrees, looking affectionately at Haru. “Right?”“Right,” Haru says with an equally affectionate look.Nothing like the inherent romanticism of near-cardiac arrest.“I’m on the other end,” Nagisa jumps in, sounding suspiciously sober compared to the last round. “My favorite was the last one where we all swam. Belgium was so amazing, wasn’t it? We got to see Iku-chan for the first time in two years, and Rei-chan and I swam in a relay together. We all had so much fun. Right?”Nothing is fine.If cringing had sound effects, he’s fairly sure they’d be filling the room. Rei and Nagisa aside, everyone present knows why Belgium was the worst possible competition to bring up right now. For fear of being obvious, he can’t close his eyes until the stinging sensation passes, so he has to live with it. Asahi’s strung tight as a bow at Ikuya’s side, leg jiggling with nervous energy. The breathing Ikuya had tried so hard to regulate is starting to come in short again, and he needs out of here. Now.“I’m sorry to be a buzzkill,” he says with an obviously fake yawn, “but I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to head out and try to get some of that sleep Rin was complaining about.”Rei and Nagisa protest, but no one else gives him a hard time, which only makes it worse. They all know he’s a sad, pathetic baby who showed up to have a good time and fell the fuck apart. He makes a valiant effort to play it cool, eschewing individual farewells in favor of one big group sendoff.The night air helps loosen the vice grip on his lungs, but only just. The idea of walking to the train, taking the train, and walking home from the train is intolerable. Even looking for a taxi is too much, but it’s the superior option. He only makes it a few steps before he hears his name.“Ikuya!”Asahi’s standing there, looking as messed up as Ikuya feels. There’s a frantic desperation in his eyes that makes Ikuya’s heart hurt and stomach churn.“Asahi.” He doesn’t know what else to say.“Are you okay? Are - are we okay?”The answer to both is he doesn’t fucking know.“We are,” he chokes out. “I just need to go. I can’t - I need air. Space.” Shit, he didn’t mean it like that. “I’ll see you.”Without another word, he turns and leaves Asahi behind, even more in need of an escape than he was two minutes ago. He’s lucky enough to hail a taxi in no time at all, but finds himself unable to step in. Clarity around exactly one thing comes into focus, and while he has no idea what it means or will mean, he needs to - he turns around and runs back to Rin and Haru’s building. Asahi, thank fuck, is still standing out front, hair tousled and looking like he’s trying to figure out how to breathe. When he sees Ikuya, he straightens up, eyes going wide.“Ikuya - ”“We’re okay,” he says, voice cracking. “I’m not brushing you off when I say I’ll see you. There’s so much, and I just really need - I need - ”“Anything you need,” Asahi answers, voice overflowing with so much emotion it takes Ikuya’s breath away. “All the time you need. Just please, this can’t be the last time - ”“It won’t. I promise it won’t.” The taxi driver hits the horn from the end of the block, counting down the seconds Ikuya has left. “Goodnight, Asahi.”He doesn’t wait for a response. For the second time tonight, he turns and leaves Asahi behind. This time, he gets in the taxi and takes off, and this time -he cries.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ikuya is in free fall.Saturday night was catastrophic. A get-together meant to be shocking and amusing has left him in tatters, standing in front of an open door as everything he’d locked behind it comes crashing down on him in a cavalcade of memories.He’d convinced himself he was living their full impact every day. After all, he was a mess, and he was a mess because of their impact. Terrified of everything and everyone, losing his mind in an electrical storm, all fallout from the impact of those memories. Until Saturday night, he thought he’d been improving. Healing, even.Wrong.He’s only now seeing how right his brother was - his brain’s been working through shit on its own because Ikuya won’t do the work himself. The dreams were where all the undone work was living, and everything he was experiencing was only a fraction of what lay beneath. Now it’s right at the surface of his flayed skin, crackling like a live wire.And all it took was one bad night and a tug on a few loose threads to unravel everything.When his brother shows up on Sunday and doesn’t leave for days, Ikuya is furious. Look at Ikuya, who can’t be left alone, who can’t be trusted to take care of himself at thirty years old. And the worst part? It’s true. He’s in a deep-sea low version of one of his classic funks. Making the bed, taking out the trash, and doing anything other than curling up on the couch in front of the TV isn’t on his dance card. Homework and classes fall by the wayside, as does attendance at the job connected to them. He makes an attempt on Wednesday, but it doesn’t go well.“Hey,” Rin says as he enters Ikuya’s office, “how’s it going? I know Saturday didn’t end so hot.”“You think?” he snaps. “Thanks, by the way. First the sleep, then the app question - especially the app question. What the fuck was that about?”Rin hangs his head in shame. “The sleep thing was stupid. I was so freaked out by what I was seeing I just said whatever the fuck, and it came out weirdly aggressive. I’m sorry. But I thought I was proving a point with the app thing,” he explains. “I wanted to see - ”“Wanted to see how soon he’d toss me in the junk heap again? Remind me how awful that was? Because I didn’t need a reminder. I remember everything just fine.”“Come on,” Rin says, “that’s not true. From the way it looked, you two - ”“We what?” he asks impatiently. “Seemed comfortable? Happy? I’m sorry it made you so uncomfortable, but you didn’t have to try to ruin everything to make yourself feel better.”He sounds ridiculous. But he’s so angry, and Rin is available. Plus, a small part of him is upset with Rin, making him the perfect scapegoat for his fury.“No, that’s not fair,” Rin pushes back, “and you know it.”“Whatever.” Because the rational part of him is begging him to quit before he can do any true damage, he gathers his things and makes for the exit. “I’m working from home this week.”Rin doesn’t stop him. Why would he?Ikuya told him he was gambling on a burden.Gradually, it becomes clear that while everything surrounding Asahi now feels immediate and painful, it’s only the launchpad for something much worse. Asahi leads to London, London leads to Belgium, and Belgium leads where all roads must - Alex.Their relationship plays on a loop, from its wonderful beginning to its rapid deterioration to the auspices of terror he’d lived under for more than a year. Like his other memories, they’re clear as day, repeated, disturbing, unwanted thoughts intruding on the most basic moments. Brushing his teeth, changing his clothes, eating, working out, sitting on the fucking couch - suddenly, he’s back there, reliving it in real time. Those moments make it difficult to function. He can’t sleep, and when he does, he dreams. Food doesn’t hold much interest, and though he watches a shit ton, neither does TV. His efforts to work from home are negligible - he tells his brother he’s enjoying class when he comes back from coaching, but he knows how transparent his lies are.His brother doesn’t openly push. Instead, he creates opening after opening after opening, giving Ikuya endless opportunities to talk. All of them are ignored. His inability to speak makes him so fucking livid - he wants to talk. So badly. But Alex still owns his silence, forcing him to push away people who just want to help. Eventually, he talks about the only thing not stuck to the roof of his mouth, different but still so fucking painful.“I feel so stupid,” he tells his brother after choking down some dinner on Saturday night. “Was I expecting everyone else to act like the last ten years of their lives never happened?”“Honestly, it kind of knocked me off my feet too,” his brother says. “I was so focused on how funny it was going to be. As soon as the engagement stuff hit, I was like, ‘oh fuck.’ I guess part of me also assumed you wouldn’t have invited him if you hadn’t talked it out by now.”God, he’s such a fucking idiot. “I convinced myself we didn’t have to,” he confesses. “We’ve gotten so close. I thought it only mattered how we are now. I thought we could just forget the rest.”“He could have brought it up too,” his brother counters. “At any point. You’re not the only one guilty of avoiding it. He seems so aggressively committed to not fucking things up this time around. You’d think he’d at least try to get out from under the shadow of all that. Or maybe not.”“Maybe not?”“Who knows, maybe he thought reminding you of it would send you packing.”“Maybe - wait,” he rewinds, “did he tell you he’s trying not to fuck it up this time?”“Are you actually asking? Think about it,” his brother warns.The last time his brother showed him the door, he’d decided not to cross the threshold. Now something’s slipped through, making him ravenous for details, for context - except fuck, he still can’t. If he intends to keep his promise, they should be on an even playing field. As even as all the detritus they still need to pick through will let them be, anyway. Asahi holds the upper hand there, as Ikuya still has no fucking idea what happened.“No,” he says, “I’m not.”“I know.” Asshole. “You’re right, though. You guys do seem really close. Even I was surprised.” His brother pauses before carefully asking, “So…how and when did that happen?”The question is all Ikuya needs to start spilling absolutely every fucking thing. He describes it all in painstaking, likely soul-crushingly boring detail, from the day Asahi knocked his dinner to the ground to a watered-down version of their not-happy hour last week. Apart from the occasional leading question, his brother only stops him when he tells him about his close shave with a bolt of lightning.“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, alarmed. “You should have told me.”“What would I have said? I still don’t know what happened.”“Doesn’t matter,” his brother doubles down. “I have to know you’re safe. Not because you’re a baby,” he says, getting out in front of the protest Ikuya had on the tip of his tongue, “but for my own sanity, okay? I have to know. So please,” his brother practically begs, “don’t keep that kind of shit from me, okay?”Right. It’s his fault his brother found him the way he did, making him feel responsible for his safety. So responsible, he insists on being Ikuya’s emergency contact and in-home caretaker. He’s the reason his brother loses the one hour of sleep he gets worrying about him.“I’m sorry,” he says miserably, “I won’t.”“Don’t be sorry.” His brother pats him on the head, earning a scowl. “Now, you were saying?”Once he’s finished recounting everything from top to bottom, his brother gets up, marches to the kitchen, and comes back with not one, but two beers. Ikuya accepts his without a fuss. This shit has driven him to drink, and who better to drink with than the Natsuya Kirishima? His brother insists they sideline the Asahi talk while they work their way through three rounds of his preferred liver poison, during which they play their own drinking game, digging up increasingly embarrassing memories from their childhood.“Okay, but you shit your pants that time you slept over at Nao’s.”“What? That's a fucking lie. Who told you that?”“Nao.”“Shit.”“Yup. That’s what you did. So, do I win?”“Fine,” his brother yields, “I’ve been bested by my asshole little brother. But this was all part of my plan.”“Oh? What plan was that?”“Getting you to have some fun.”Well, fuck. His lower lip trembles, and a second later, the dam bursts.“I don’t want to feel this way again,” he sobs. “Not about him. I can’t do it a second time. I think it would kill me.”The feeling and who it’s for hangs in the air, purposefully unnamed for fear of making it real.“Listen,” his brother says, squishing Ikuya’s cheeks between his hands and getting a small laugh for his efforts before the crying resumes, “it is what it is, whether you want it or not. And nothing’s the same now, is it? It can’t happen the same way a second time.”“Then it’ll be something I haven’t thought of yet,” he argues. “Something worse.”“I know everything feels tied up with what happened. And yes, you need to talk about it. But right now, you need to try to separate the last time from this time. Are they anywhere near the same?”“No,” he answers after a moment’s thought. “There’s so much more to lose now.”“Not what I meant, but that might be as good as it’s going to get right now.”His brother lets him cry until he’s thoroughly wrung out and has a headache for his troubles. He wonders if he’ll be able to get one good night’s sleep - even his brother’s presence can’t keep the dreams at bay anymore. Talking to his brother about what his mind and body will allow him to has left him feeling marginally lighter, but not by much.After getting ready for bed, he burrows under the covers, and as he does every night, he reaches under the pillow and searches until he finds what he’s looking for. His hand curls around the object he won’t sleep without, the cool, smooth glass fitting perfectly in his palm. The dreams will come whether he’s holding it or not, but knowing it will be there when he goes to sleep and wakes up is an unspeakable source of comfort.“Goodnight,” he whispers. “See you in the morning.”One good night’s sleep does come. One night only, then it’s right back into his dizzying downward spiral.He apologizes to Rin. In the next breath, he tries to hand in his resignation, but Rin is having none of it.“No.”“No?”“No.”“What do you mean, no? I’m resigning.”“And I’m telling you no. If you need to go on leave for a while, so be it. But you’re not quitting.”“But I barely work!” Ikuya exclaims. “What would I be going on leave from?”“Learning and development,” Rin says. “Onsite training.”Ikuya stares at him. “Those aren’t real things.”“Yes, they are. That’s the leave code human resources is going to use, anyway.”“…we have a human resources department?”“Ikuya,” Rin sighs, “you’re a wreck. Please just go take care of yourself. Haru and I are here if you need us.”No fucking way is he going to cry again. Not in Rin’s office, in front of Rin, the only person on earth who cries more than him.“Allergies,” he lies as he wipes his eyes. “They’re terrible in, uh…Autumn.”“The worst,” Rin joins him in his egregious lie. “Pick up some antihistamines on your way home.”“I will. And thanks. I - thank you.”“Get out of here.”Having so much time on his hands is a terrible thing.Classes don’t hold his attention for long, though he does his best to power through. Life doesn’t just stop because he’s a fucking disaster. He does venture outside occasionally, mainly so he won’t be lying when his brother asks how long it’s been since he left the apartment. But the air helps, and sometimes, he feels almost energetic. When those moments strike, he seizes the momentum and tries to do something fun, like getting takoyaki from a food truck or going for a run to Meiji Shrine.Despite his best efforts, he always returns to his apartment feeling empty. What happened to the joy he was starting to get out of the little things? Two more weeks pass with no net gains and nothing to show besides frustration, fear, and white-hot anger. Oh, and all the other shit. The intrusive thoughts don’t stop. They won’t leave him alone for one fucking hour - he’s alone in his apartment, yet he’s never without uninvited and unwelcome company.Things come to a head in the middle of week four of his tailspin.In keeping with his current masochistic streak, he re-downloads Instagram before trying his likely unsuccessful hand at another full night’s sleep. He tells himself it’s because he’s curious, and that he wants to go through his friends’ old posts and catch up on their lives so he’s not so out of the loop the next time he sees them. Instead, he jumps into his DMs when he notices the number of unreads in the corner of the screen.The first few make him genuinely happy. John and David are both in there, telling him he’s missed, and that they hope he’s doing well in Japan. A few other team members are in there too, with similar, if slightly less personal, well wishes. A delighted laugh escapes him when he sees Thirst Trap Nerd has slid back into his DMs, sincere and friendly as always, asking if he wants to get a drink. Too bad he’s not here. Maybe getting laid - good - would help.This isn’t so bad. If anything, it’s improving his mood. The serotonin boost compels him to keep going - a move that backfires as soon as he makes it.Right below Thirst Trap Nerd’s polite overture is a message that makes Ikuya go cold. Don’t look, don’t look, just delete the app again - he taps into the conversation, left cold for months until three weeks ago. A choked sob tears from his throat as he reads and rereads the simple hey, miss you ad nauseam. The part of him conditioned to respond immediately does its best to force his fingers, and he’s only just barely able to stop himself from hitting send once he’s obediently typed hey.With trembling hands, he backs out of the conversation and taps into the settings. Pure, blind fear has him not only deleting the app but his entire account, meeting every ‘are you sure?’ with yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Once the account is gone for good, he deletes the app. Now he’s sitting on his couch alone in his apartment, shaking and unable to breathe. He stumbles to the bathroom, where he vomits up the little he’s eaten today, and then it’s dry heaving and crying, clutching at his throat in a near-replica of that final night.Why now? Is he in Japan? Does he know his address? Even if he did, he couldn’t get in - could he? He could if he really wanted to. The prospect propels him off the bathroom floor and to his bedroom. Two locked doors are better than one, right? He hurries to the far corner and sinks to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. No matter how he tries, the shaking doesn’t stop, so now he’s tucked away in the corner of his bedroom, trembling and hiding from phantoms he knows are nowhere near, yet he can feel their breath on his neck.After who knows how long, he peeks up from his fetal fortress and eyes the phone sitting a few feet away on the floor. Then, carefully, he crawls over to it. There’s nothing in him but panic as his fingers fumble on the keys, and only after six tries is he able to send a simple can you come over with no typos.Ten minutes later, he hears the doorbell’s distant chime. He cautiously makes his way out of his room and approaches the front door, unsure if he should open it even though he knows who’s outside. It takes him a good thirty seconds to work up the courage, and even then, he only opens it a crack. That way, if it’s not who he thinks it is, he can slam it shut before they can elbow their way in.“Ikuya?”Okay. It’s him. He opens the door just wide enough for him to slip inside, then takes a few moments to inspect the lock. When he’s finished his examination, he turns his attention to a clearly unnerved Asahi.“Ikuya?” he repeats, inching toward him like he might book it at any moment - and he might. “What’s wrong?”“I need help,” he says. “I can’t be here.”Asahi doesn’t ask why. “Yeah, of course. Where do you want to go?”“Anywhere. I don’t know. No, somewhere outside the city.”Though he spoke without thinking, he’s certain it’s what he needs.“No problem. I can borrow my sister’s car. Are you - ” he gives Ikuya a concerned once-over “ - will you be okay for fifteen minutes?”No. He won’t. “Yes,” he says instead. “And you’ll come back?”Asahi gives him one of his golden smiles. “I wouldn’t go anywhere if I didn’t have to.”“Okay. Yeah, okay. Fifteen minutes.”“Fifteen minutes,” Asahi promises before hesitantly leaving Ikuya behind. “Faster, if I can.”Then Ikuya’s alone again. Fifteen minutes seems unendurable, so he fills the time attempting to look presentable. The Ikuya looking back at him in the mirror is pale and unkempt - there’s a puke stain on his hoodie, his hair’s a mess, and his eyes are bloodshot. Vanity and shame guide him through the motions of brushing his teeth, showering, and changing into something other than his standard nervous-breakdown uniform of sweats. The end result is nothing to brag about, but at least there are no vestiges of vomit, and his hair no longer resembles a rat’s nest.Asahi texts him to let him know he’s out front a few minutes later, just under the fifteen-minute mark. The trek from his safe, locked apartment into the wide, unsafe world is terrifying. The hallway is too quiet, the elevator is a falling tomb, and the lobby is far too big to have only one person keeping watch. He rushes to Asahi’s car and climbs in, locking the door the second it’s closed.“Can you lock the doors?” he asks. “All of them?”“Done.”Were he not acting like a fucking insane person, he would ask when Asahi learned to drive, or maybe give him a hard time about his driving skills. But he is acting like a fucking insane person, so all he does is sit in silence as Asahi takes off for who knows where.Asahi doesn’t say anything as he merges onto the expressway. No questions, no idle small talk. Ikuya leans his head against the window and watches the world fly by as Tokyo disappears in the rearview. Soon it’s only the glaring lights of the expressway and the distant glow of the suburbs. Only then does Ikuya do anything at all. He cracks the window and takes a deep breath, filling his body with clean night air.If Asahi is disturbed by Ikuya’s behavior, he doesn’t show it. They drive for nearly two hours until he pulls off the expressway and begins navigating a series of progressively smaller, darker roads. They’re near the coast. Ikuya can smell it. Their journey ends in a parking lot at the edge of a beach, one he’s never been to before. Though it’s entirely unnecessary, he unquestioningly takes Asahi’s hand when he comes around to open Ikuya’s door and help him out of the car.They walk out onto the beach and take their shoes off. Then, without waiting for Asahi, Ikuya walks down to the water and wades in until he’s ankle-deep. He knows Asahi’s joined him when he hears the gentle splash beside him. The darkness here is total. The only light is from above, and god, is it something.Stars wheel overhead, more than Ikuya’s ever seen. The meteor shower he and Haru saw all those years ago, and even the Dark Sky Park back in the UK pale in comparison, a cheap imitation of the night sky as it truly is.No one will find him out here.“They’re not ruined,” he says, finally breaking his silence. “Stars. I thought they were.”“Why?”“The last time I saw them, I was with my ex-boyfriend. It was this big, romantic gesture. There was this beautiful hotel, and it was - no one had ever done something like that for me before.”“Sounds special,” Asahi says, his voice betraying no particular emotion besides curiosity. “Was it?”“You have no idea. Everything was special those first few months. I knew I’d found my person. There was no way he wasn’t. I thought ‘holy shit, I’m going to marry this person.’ And it happened so fast, you know? One day he was nowhere, and the next he was all over my life. I was - I was so relieved. There was someone out there for me. I wasn’t going to be alone forever.”The susurration of water tells him Asahi’s moved closer. “I’m guessing it didn’t work out.”“You could say that,” he answers. “I think it worked out okay for him. He didn’t have to retire early because of me, or leave the country because of me. His face is fine. His hand is fine. I never would have moved back if my brother hadn’t shown up. No one ever would have known.”A shaky breath comes from beside him. He doesn’t look. There’s no finishing this if he does.“Not that it started right away,” he says. “There were the first few months, which - god, they were unbelievable. Then I was forgetful. I was lying to him, I was flirting with his friends, my English was bad, he didn’t want me to speak Japanese around him. Everything I did was wrong. And I knew he was right. About all of it.”“Ikuya - ”“He wasn’t that much bigger than me,” he speaks over him, “and I was an athlete. So I should have been able to stop him, right? But I never did. Well, that’s not entirely true. I tried to end it a few times. Let’s just say I didn’t come out on top. I learned. I learned, and I lost all my friends and family, here and in the UK.”A hand takes his, gentle and loose. He could get away if he wanted.“Want to hear something funny?” he asks. “Sometimes I’d imagine I was in a relationship like yours. One where I was happy. Your wedding looked so perfect. Fairy tale shit. I wanted that, and I’d picture having it with someone who wasn’t…wasn’t what I got. But it was what it was. My love story was just different from yours. That’s just where the chips fell.”The wind whispers around them, blowing Ikuya’s hair back from his face. It feels nice.“My brother flew out to surprise me the same night I got choked out. I honestly don’t know which was worse - thinking I was going to die, or having my brother find me like that. He flew across the whole world and had to take care of my sorry ass and drag me home. Now he’s always worried about me, and I don’t blame him.”As he speaks, his words rise and evaporate into the night sky, a secret between him, the stars, and Asahi. He threads his fingers through Asahi’s, enjoying the feeling of being connected to something good. Something safe.“I go back and forth,” he says. “Sometimes I’m terrified for the next person he’s with. But you know what’s so much worse? What if he treats them well? What if - ” his voice wavers for the first time “ - what if it was me, specifically? And if it was, then what was it about me that made him do it? Why? He ruined my career, he ruined my hand, he ruined my face - he ruined my life.”The Autumn air is a welcome relief on his fevered skin.“He ruined me.”When he feels a light pull on his hand, he answers. Asahi’s broken, tear-stained face is only visible for a moment before his arms are around him. Nothing is said as, for the first time, Ikuya cries for what was, what is, and what could have been.He doesn’t want to be alone with this anymore.Hours, minutes, seconds pass - he’s not sure how long they stay like that, nor does he care. Asahi’s doing his best to keep his own crying silent so as not to intrude on Ikuya’s moment or make it about him, and apart from the tears that mingle with his own, he succeeds. The water laps gently at their feet, and the stars take his words and scatter them across the night sky, no longer belonging only to him within the confines of his mind, spreading through his body like poison.“They really are beautiful,” he says after however long, gaze drifting back up to the sky. “Thank you for taking me here.”“They’re yours,” Asahi answers. “All of them.”Inhale - one, two, three, four, five.Exhale - one, two, three, four, five.“Thank you.”By the time they leave the infinite expanse of sand and sky, Asahi looks dead tired. He’s trying so hard to suppress a yawn, but failure is imminent.“You shouldn’t drive if you’re that tired.”“No, I’m fine,” Asahi waves his obviously not-fine self off. “I’m - ” and there’s the yawn. “It’s only two hours.”“Let’s stay somewhere near here,” he suggests, mostly for Asahi, partly because he can’t stomach the thought of going home yet, of leaving all these stars and all this quiet. “If you’re okay with that?”“That - ” another yawn knocks further protests from Asahi’s mouth, making them both laugh. And fuck, what an extraordinary feeling that is. “Yeah, I’m good with that.”They spend a few minutes finding the closest place, and then they’re off. Knowing he won’t be returning to the noise and blinding lights of the city for a while longer drives the tension from his body. The small, surprisingly nice hotel is only ten minutes away, hidden along the coastline. Midweek in Autumn isn’t exactly prime tourist season, so getting a room is an easy, quiet affair.“This is so nice,” Ikuya says, walking over to the window and opening it so the sound of the sea comes rushing in. “I’m going to move here.”“Pretty ideal for a couple of hermits,” Asahi replies. “Think we can convince them to sell the place?”“With our combined powers of persuasion? They don’t stand a chance.”“We’d be unstoppable.”They’re too tired to do much more than shower and go to bed. Ikuya isn’t used to sleeping in the same room as someone anymore. The last time he did, he barely slept, wound too tight for fear of breathing wrong. The two beds are appreciated - not that he thought they’d do otherwise, but still. Being given space at every turn is wonderful. Goodnights are exchanged through yawns. Then it’s lights out, and the room is quiet.Twenty minutes pass. Thirty. Thirty-five. He’s tired, so why has he been lying here for forty-five minutes now? Back, side, stomach - no position is comfortable. The bed is so big. No bigger than his bed back at home, but there’s so much empty space here.There’s a simple solution. Is he allowed to have it? The stars are all his, and maybe this can be too. So he climbs out of bed and pads over to where he wants to be. Asahi is also awake and pulls Ikuya to him as soon as he crawls under the covers. Arms wind around each other, bodies moving until they’re pressed together.This is something he’s allowed to have.“Hey,” Asahi whispers. “How are you feeling?”“Endless,” Ikuya whispers back. “Is that strange?”“No. That’s a good thing. And you are endless.”“How?”“You’re everywhere,” Asahi says. “You’re everything.”If he thought he’d cried enough for a lifetime tonight, he was wrong. Hiding his face in Asahi's shoulder is pointless, but he does it anyway.“You’re not ruined,” Asahi murmurs. “You’re perfect.” Ikuya’s shoulders shake as he keeps going, keeps giving and giving and giving. “Your hands are perfect. Your face is perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”Ikuya tries to imagine a world where he didn’t ask for help making fried shrimp. A world where he wasn’t open to second chances, or belated birthdays, or crab soulmates, or eponymous cocktails. In that world, he doesn’t end up here, sharing a bed and his heart in a town along the coast with someone he loved, someone he hated. That world isn’t one worth imagining.Ikuya loves him.Again.And if it kills him?So be it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ikuya returns to Tokyo with a new lightness about him, one he hasn’t felt in years. There’s no going back, no undoing what happened, or how it’s aged him. At the same time, he feels younger. No one owns his silence anymore. Breath moves through his body the way it’s meant to, in and out without meeting any resistance, his lungs expanding and contracting in an ebb and flow that’s become foreign to him after all this time.Which isn’t to say everything is suddenly fine. That’s not how these things work. He knows that. This is only the beginning. But without a beginning, nothing can come next, and Ikuya’s been fighting tooth and nail against the beginning for so, so long. After all, his beginnings have always snowballed their way to tragic endings.This time will be different.On Saturday, he does something he hasn’t done since everything went pear-shaped overseas - he goes shopping. For the last year, he’s rotated through the same few pieces of clothing, repeatedly telling himself he doesn’t deserve new things, nicer clothes, or anything that would make him happy or draw notice to him outside of modeling. Now he’s on his way to Shimo-Kitazawa, hoping to find some things that make him happy at the vintage stores he frequented in his early twenties.Walking into the first store is a little overwhelming. What does he like now? What would look good on him? He doesn’t know anymore. As he browses, he tries his best to remain unnoticed, but before long, he’s found by an unusually non-pushy and helpful salesperson. She asks him what colors he likes and what he’s most comfortable in and shows him a few things based on that, all things he likes.She leaves him alone while he tries them on. They all look…good? He looks good in them. New. Maybe he should buy them all. How decadent of him. But fuck, does he ever want to shed the old and bring in the new. He could replace his furniture too - he’s been living in a museum dedicated to his own pain since he moved back. Why not redecorate?Today, the clothes will do. So he buys it all, pushing back against the voice whispering he’s doing something wrong. He leaves buzzing with adrenaline, like he’s just successfully pulled off a heist. This is such a small moment of rediscovery - and pure new discovery - but it feels monumental.He makes a day of it, hitting up several stores and treating himself to whatever makes him happy. As he goes, his nerves disappear, making way for the kind of shameless self-indulgence he enjoyed when he first moved to Europe. By the time he’s done, he’s weighed down with bags full of an old, new him and looking forward to retiring a wardrobe muted by someone who doesn’t own him anymore.Despite swearing he’d never go anywhere unannounced again, he decides to make a spur-of-the-moment detour on his way home. Though he hasn’t been there in at least five years, he could walk there in his sleep. His feet carry him from Shibuya station to the familiar shopfront, as warm and inviting as he remembers.Upon arrival, he realizes he didn’t bring anyone as a security blanket in case things go terribly wrong. No one to act as a buffer or his excuse to leave if he needs to make a quick exit. Then he realizes something else - it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need help. With that in mind, he takes a deep breath and, for the first time in at least five years, opens the door to the Marron.A wave of nostalgia hits hard the second he sets foot inside. Everything is just as he remembers: all polished wood, soft lighting, and a welcoming, comfortable atmosphere. The smell of coffee wafts from the counter, calling him over to where he used to sit and lord his choreless existence over Asahi while he washed dishes.They all spent so much time here when they were younger. It had been the go-to hang out spot on free days, a place to study or simply fuck around, all under the influence of too much caffeine. He’d started coming less and less after Aito became a fixture, until eventually he stopped entirely. The memory evokes some discomfort, and he has to remind himself not of where he is, but when. No happy couple is about to waltz in and force him out the door - none he knows, anyway.There are only a few other patrons, and Akane is nowhere in sight, so he makes himself comfortable at the counter and waits. It feels somewhat entitled, sitting here expecting attention when no one knew he was coming. Akane could be swamped with something else, or have her hands full with Tsukushi, or Kon, or literally anything in her life. The feeling isn’t enough to change his behavior, though. He’s on a roll today.A few minutes later, he hears Akane in the kitchen.“Did you finish your homework? And no, ‘duh’ is not an acceptable answer.”“Duh,” a young boy answers. “Now can I have my Switch back?”“Fine. But if I hear another ‘duh’ out of you, it’s gone for a month. Got it?”“Duh.”There’s a loud, put-upon sigh as the put-upon mother herself emerges from the back. “That little fucker - Ikuya!” she exclaims, her frown turning right over when she sees him. “You came!”She says it like she was expecting him. Like this is another place he belongs. “Hi,” he says. “I’d say I was in the neighborhood, but - ” he looks down at his cargo “ - I wasn’t.”“Then I’m even more honored. Coffee?”“Oh, sure. Thanks.”Akane pours coffee for both of them. “So, how - thanks, have a great day!” she calls to the customers headed out the door - the last ones, leaving the café empty aside from them. “How are you?”“I’m good. Really good, I think.”Akane considers him. “You look it. What’s all this?” she asks, peering over the counter to get a look at Ikuya’s haul. “Looks like you got a whole new wardrobe.”“I did, actually,” he admits. “I haven’t been shopping in forever. You know when you just want to burn everything you own?”“Do I ever,” she frowns. “I might actually burn everything Kon owns. He’s taken the socks and sandals thing public. I’ll never live it down. You, though,” she moves the spotlight back onto him, “you look good in everything. So maybe you’re burning everything that comes with the clothes.”She’s a psychic. There’s no other explanation. “Maybe,” he agrees. “And good riddance if I am.”They share a conspiratorial smile.“How was your trip?” she mentions in an offhanded manner.Ikuya nearly chokes on his coffee. “Oh, uh,” he stammers, “that - sorry. I didn’t mean to make Asahi steal your car.”“I’m used to it,” she says. “Wasn’t the first time, won’t be the last. I regret ever helping him learn to drive. But I can’t undo the damage I’ve done. So, did you enjoy yourselves?”This is so fucking embarrassing. What does she assume happened? Does she assume anything? With the car not being returned to her until the next day, she could be assuming any number of things. As humiliating as it is, he might just have to let her think they skipped town for some scenic marathon sex. For now, what really happened lives out there and between him and Asahi.“We did,” he replies, pushing the sudden thought of how sinfully wonderful that assumption sounds into the far reaches of his mind. “I really needed - I needed a break.” Close enough. “Have you ever been?” he deflects, figuring she knows where they went. She knows everything else. “I’d never heard of it. I think I could live out there.”“Never,” she says, shaking her head. “He doesn’t choose places at random, though. It’ll always be something he’s given some thought. He’s intentional like that.”Oh, Ikuya knows. He’d first noticed when they made tamagoyaki together. Part of him can’t help but imagine all the intentional choices Asahi must have made for Aito over the years. Regardless of how things turned out, It’s not like they weren’t head over heels for as long as Ikuya knew them as a pair.“He is.” And he needs to redirect his thoughts away from old heartbreak. “Was that Tsukushi I heard back there before?”“Yes, and I’m about ready to let him get raised by wolves. Oh!” she gasps. “Wait, this is perfect - Tsukushi? Can you come out here?”A groan comes from the back, followed by a “Mom” and the squeak of sneakers on linoleum. Moments later, a sullen-looking preteen appears. He’s the spitting image of his mother, though he’s missing the trademark Shiina red hair. “I told you I finished - ” he stops short when he sees his mother has company.“Tsukushi, do you remember Ikuya?” Akane asks. “He’s Asahi’s friend.”Tsukushi gapes at Ikuya, who raises his hand in greeting. “Hi. You probably don’t remember me. I think you were five the last time I saw you.” At Asahi’s engagement party. “I’m Ikuya.”“You - ” Tsukushi looks like he’s about to explode. It would appear Akane’s trolling isn’t reserved exclusively for her brother. “You’re his friend? Actually?”“Actually,” Ikuya confirms. “Weird, right?”“So weird,” Tsukushi says, suddenly emphatic. “Oji-san doesn’t have friends like - like - ”“Oooh, I’m going to tell him you said that,” Akane warns him with a smirk.“I don’t care,” Tsukushi replies flippantly. “I’ll tell him too.”Good god, he really is his mother’s son. “You were a cute baby,” he says. “I used to hold you while your mom was busy.”“He was your favorite,” Akane adds. “You wouldn’t sit still for anyone else.”Tsukushi is looking more and more like a tomato with each passing second. “Maybe because all of Oji-san’s friends are weird. Not you, though!” he makes sure to specify.“Thank you. I’m honored to be one of the normal ones.”“Yeah, you’re a real saint,” Akane says. “Now go play Pocari Sweat and leave us alone.”“Mom, you know it’s Pokémon!” Tsukushi whines, playing right into his mother’s hands. “Fine. And uh - ” his eyes zing to Ikuya, and all of a sudden, his manners are back. “It was nice to meet you. Maybe you’ll - I’ll get your coffee for you. If you come again.”“I would love that,” he smiles, holding back the laughter Akane can’t. “I’ll have to come back soon.”“Yes!” he squeaks as his mother grabs his shoulders and pushes him through the door to the kitchen. “Bye!”“Best three minutes of my life,” Akane wheezes as they convulse with laughter. “God, I wish I’d recorded that.”“He’s like if Asahi was raised by an iPad,” Ikuya giggles. “Thank you for that. My day is made. I guess I should end it here, actually,” he says when he notices the sun setting outside. “I’m going to hit rush hour on the train.”“Oh, fine,” Akane sighs. “Always good to go out on a high note. Asahi’s going to be disappointed he missed you. But I liked getting you all to myself.”“I’m glad I came by. What do I owe you for the coffee?”“Don't even think about it,” she says. “Asahi gets charged double.”“I feel like you’d charge him double whether I was here or not. But thanks. For the coffee and the company.”“Don’t be a stranger,” she tells him. “And Ikuya? Enjoy burning it all down.”Ikuya’s smile widens.“I’m going to build a fucking bonfire.”On Sunday, Ikuya trades one older sibling for another.“Alright, what’s different?” his brother asks when he barges in. “Something’s different.”“What do you mean?”“Well, for one,” his brother begins counting off as he disappears into the kitchen, “you took the trash out and cleaned. Two, the windows are open. And thank god, it was starting to smell in here.” Yikes. “Three - you,” he finishes upon his return, beer in hand. “You’re different.”“Me?” he asks, feigning ignorance. To be fair, he really doesn’t know what his brother sees - he only knows his own feelings. “What about me?”“Yes, you,” his brother says as he flops onto the couch, nearly sending Ikuya flying. “You’re - hm. Your energy is always so heavy - understandably, don’t get me wrong. But it’s like you’re always carrying around a backpack full of bricks.”His brother has a knack for putting into words everything Ikuya’s feeling. Small, dragged down by a weight too heavy to shoulder - all emblematic of who he’s been for so long now. “Yeah,” he agrees, repositioning himself and glowering at his brother. “A backpack full of something.”“Does it have anything to do with you not being here Thursday morning?”Between Akane and his brother, he might as well give up trying to have any secrets. “I didn’t know you were coming over. You should have texted.” Because that would have made a difference.“Uh-huh. So, you have fun?”“What?” he asks, embarrassingly shrill. “We didn’t do anything!”“Who said anything about that? Pretty sure I never mentioned a ‘we’ either,” his brother replies, and well, double fuck. “But based on your reaction, I’m going to guess whatever you did wasn’t with Rin, Haru, Rei, or Nagisa.”“I’m changing the locks when you leave,” he snipes. “And it’s not what you’re thinking.”“So it is who I’m thinking?”Triple fuck. His brother’s smug smile reeks of having successfully backed Ikuya into a corner. “It’s none of your business,” he evades pointlessly. They both know he’s lost. “I was having a bad day and needed to get out of town. And I’m glad I did.”“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” his brother says, his wicked smile going soft and fond around the edges.Something about being cagey with the one person who’s been there every single nightmarish step of the way feels wrong, so after a brief pause, he says, “And I - did you know salt water can help get peanut butter off the roof of your mouth?”As momentary confusion gives way to realization, Ikuya wonders how there was ever a time in their life when they were so disconnected, so painfully distant. They’re so consistently on the same wavelength now, communicating in a language unique to them that he would have killed for when he was younger. If only that Ikuya could see them now.“Does that mean you tried it?” his brother asks, tentative hope sparking in his eyes.“I did.”“…and it worked for you?”One day, he’ll tell him everything. No one deserves to know more than him. For now, all he has is this.“Yes.”No sooner does the word leave his mouth than he’s pulled into a classic bear hug, possibly the best he’s ever received.“I’m proud of you,” his brother says, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”And here he was thinking he could go one single day without crying.“Of course I am,” he hiccups as tears roll down his face. “I’m your younger brother, aren’t I?”And doesn’t that just make him the luckiest person on earth?Over the next week, he dives back into his classes with laser focus. He’s technically still on leave from nothing, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use the time to make sure he goes back with something. He’s finally sleeping, and because he’s sleeping, he can actually concentrate. Dreams only wake him up twice, and both times he’s able to go back to sleep after showering and changing his gross, sweaty sheets.The only thing keeping him up is how unbearably empty his bed is. Falling asleep in someone’s arms and knowing he’s safe - Ikuya could have stayed there all day, all week, all year. Asahi is so warm. There’s light inside him, and it seeps through not only in his hands and smiles, but his whole being. Ikuya spent the morning luxuriating in that warmth, half asleep and secure in the certainty that this was where he was meant to be. It was an incredible high, and now he’s in withdrawal without an incoming fix.On Thursday night, his withdrawal symptoms peak. By eleven p.m., he’s an hour into some prodigious tossing and turning. His tried and true method of staring at the ceiling was an abysmal failure too. Even holding his marble - and definitely not talking to it - is proving useless. Something’s got to give.With a frustrated groan, he sits up and turns on the bedside lamp. There’s exactly one thing he wants to do, and even though they literally slept together last week, he’s still not sure if he should. Last week was precipitated by intense, heightened emotion - all he has right now is a nasty case of insomnia derived from an overly majestic king-sized bed.Whatever. He’s just going to do it.Self-view is an unfortunate byproduct of video calls, so the first thing Ikuya sees is his scar, prominent and glaringly visible. Especially after last week, he’s been thinking about it less, but in such close proximity, it still looks grotesque to him. Fortunately, his rumination is cut short when Asahi answers, and his face shrinks to a tiny box in the corner of the screen.“Hey you,” Asahi greets him with a delighted smile. “This is a first.”Ikuya performs a quick examination of what little he can see on the screen. Asahi’s hair is damp, and the color is high on his cheeks, like he’s just showered. Up close like this, the small red marks by the corners of his eyes and on the bridge of his nose are more pronounced, places where the light inside him shines brightly enough to leave physical traces.“Hi,” he says after he’s done properly appreciating him. “Yeah, I don’t…I don’t really do these.” Not anymore.“Aren’t I lucky.” Ikuya lies back down and turns over onto his side. “You in bed?”“Mhm,” he hums as he pulls the covers up. “I couldn’t sleep.”“But you look so comfortable,” Asahi says. “Like a blanket burrito.”Ikuya pulls the covers over his face. “Now I’m a blanket calzone.”He hears Asahi’s laugh and smiles to himself. Going to sleep is no longer on his mind - all he wants now is company.“Okay, I’ll join you,” Asahi declares, hauling himself off the couch and making his way to the bedroom.It occurs to Ikuya that in all the times he’s been there, he’s never seen Asahi’s room. From the brief, disjointed glimpses he gets, he can make out a comfortable-looking space, full of clashing colors that are more mellow than Asahi’s old neon battlefield, but still unmistakably him. A suit jacket hangs haphazardly off the back of a desk chair. The desk only makes a brief appearance, where a laptop sits surrounded by more framed photos. There’s no making out who or what’s in them.“I like your room. The colors are very you.”“Thanks,” Asahi replies as he makes like Ikuya and hops into bed. “I went right back to not matching as soon as I got my own place.”“Aito was into the perfect color scheme thing?” he asks, too curious to keep quiet. Their immaculate, tasteful wedding invitation comes to mind.“God, yeah. Super tasteful. I tried to get into it, but it just wasn’t happening.”“Was there much of you in there?”“In our apartment? At first, yeah. Then it became…his. It happened gradually, until one day I woke up and didn’t recognize the place.”Stifled. Ikuya’s been looking for the right word for months now, and there it is. They’ve both been stifled - differently, but here they are, trying to find their way back to themselves. Together.“Your home should look like you. And it does now - I mean, I always think it does when I’m there.” He glances around his own pristine, soulless room. “But I’m one to talk. My place might as well be staged for an open house for all the personality it has.”“You just haven’t really moved in yet,” Asahi says. “We’ll make it yours.”We.“Let’s. Or maybe I should ask Tsukushi for help,” he teases. “According to him, you’re too weird for us to hang out.”“Oh my god, he would not shut up about you,” Asahi laughs. “My favorite is how embarrassed he is that you’ve seen him as a baby. Like now you won’t marry him because you know he drooled.”“That’s exactly why I won’t marry him. I can’t have drool all over me at the wedding.”“You’d still make it look good.”Ikuya feels for his marble under the pillow and wraps his hand around it. “Fashion is cutting edge,” he says with a small smile. “And thank you.” He watches as Asahi shifts onto his back, giving Ikuya a much-appreciated view from above. “Now you look comfortable.”“I don’t know. I think I slept better at the hotel.” Asahi gives him a smile that makes him want to stretch like a cat. “With you.”Ikuya brings the phone closer to his face, cheeks warming as he imagines Asahi losing sleep over him. “Me too. You’re - me too.” Then, because he’s feeling bold, “My bed’s too big.”Asahi releases an audible breath, and Ikuya wonders what it would sound like given to the space beside his ear. “You’re welcome here anytime.”What does that mean? Does it mean what it sounds like? And is this a rabbit hole he should go down?“You don’t mind?” he asks, taking a tentative step down.“No.” Asahi rests a hand on his stomach. “I want you to.”A fleeting image of them together flashes through his mind. He absentmindedly brings his fingers to his lips, only realizing when he notices Asahi watching. “Maybe I belong there too.”“You do,” Asahi answers, his voice heavy with something that makes Ikuya’s toes curl. “You belong right here.”This isn’t going how Ikuya expected. Or maybe it’s what he’d hoped for and didn’t expect. Definitely not so fast, at any rate. When he woke up Thursday morning, it had crossed his mind - maybe more than crossed it - but something told him he’d regret it. Having sex with all the grief from the night before still working its way through his body felt wrong. No one and nothing should live between them, and he would always remember the experience as an extension of that grief.His sadness runs deep and likely won’t disappear anytime soon - if ever. But that doesn’t mean it will always be so raw. Just speaking it into existence and having someone to help shoulder the weight has alleviated the unendurable pressure. Now, in this moment, he can’t locate his grief anywhere near the surface.“I haven’t seen your room in person.”Asahi’s hand rests just above the waistband of his sweats, drawing Ikuya’s eyes and imagination. “We’ll change that.” He stretches, revealing a fine dusting of hair leading down where Ikuya can’t see. “Next time you’re here.”“Will I see you this weekend?” he more suggests than asks. “You just say the word.”Fuck, he wants to say the word now. He wants to crawl through the screen and slide under the covers next to him, wants to spend the night between the sheets.He wants.“Then I’ll say it.”“Can’t wait.”Through the thrill of wanting, he becomes aware of his eyelids growing heavy. When he glances at the time, he sees it’s not that late, only a little past midnight. Frustratingly, Asahi takes notice almost as soon as Ikuya does.“Hey, you fading on me?”“Uh…” He’d called for sleep, stayed for company, stayed far longer for the whirlpool of desire in his abdomen, and now sleep is calling for him. How unfair. “I think so. Sorry.”“Don’t be,” Asahi waves off his apology. “That’s a good thing.”“Will you stay with me while I fall asleep?”“Of course.”Asahi turns over onto his side and props his phone up so they’re facing each other in this imaginary bed of theirs. Ikuya nestles into his blanket burrito and gives Asahi a drowsy smile. “Sometimes I wonder if the other night was a dream.”“I know what you mean,” Asahi says, reaching out and touching the screen. “But I hope it wasn’t.”“I hope so too.” They know so. “Talk to me?”“Sure. What about?”“You.”Asahi lets out a soft laugh. “If that’s what you want.” Ikuya’s eyes fall closed. “It is.”So Asahi talks, and Ikuya listens. He talks about work, family, Tsukushi’s Ikuya infatuation, and how his sister taught him to cook. Soon his stories all start to run together, and Asahi’s voice becomes a soothing, distant sound. If Ikuya were fully conscious, he’d feel guilty over how quickly the words fade, burying themselves somewhere he won’t remember until he hears the same stories with the benefit of memory. The one word he can make out before he’s gone is his name, a sweet caress carrying him from one world to the next.When he wakes up, it’s three a.m. His phone is still leaning against the other pillow, dark where Asahi once was. With bleary eyes, he unlocks and squints at the too-bright screen, and what he sees leaves him breathless.He left Asahi for sleep three hours ago.Asahi left him thirty minutes ago.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Lord have mercy on Ikuya’s soul.For the last hour, his brother has been throwing around increasingly alarming ideas for how they should celebrate Ikuya’s so-called act of bravery. Ikuya’s managed to steer him away from the utterly depraved, which has landed them squarely on the ‘get so drunk we die’ end of the spectrum.“Bar crawl?”“No.”“Wine tasting?”“Huh,” Ikuya wonders, “that could be fun. I do love - wait, you’re not going to be that person who refuses to spit, are you?”His brother’s answer is a foregone conclusion. “I have always and will always be that person, Ikuya.”Once Ikuya has rejected the basics, his brother ups the ante.“Burlesque?”“What? Now you’re just voting against your own interests.”“Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it,” his brother shrugs. “The show, not women.”“I was worried there for a second. You’re right, it probably is a good show,” Ikuya concedes. “It just doesn’t hold much interest for me. Really, though, this is ridiculous. Why do we even have to do anything?”“Because!” his brother exclaims. “Because I like embarrassing you in public, and I want us to have some fun together. Fun out there - ” he points out of Ikuya’s window “ - and not in someone’s apartment. But we don’t have to,” he backs off. “Seriously. All that matters is that you’re comfortable.”With the exception of the izakaya and his overnight escape from the city, Ikuya has been hiding in apartments ever since he moved back. All his social engagements have been in the safety of someone’s home. The idea of really going out sets him on edge, but he wants to live in the world, right? The world isn’t coming to his doorstep anytime soon, so he has no choice but to go to it.“No, I want to,” he replies. “And if you’re embarrassing me, you're embarrassing yourself. I’ll sign up for that any day.”“You know nothing embarrasses me.”“Yeah, I know,” Ikuya sighs. “A boy can dream.”His brother takes a nasty, messy bite of their now-traditional pizza before crying, “Aha!” through a mouthful of cheese. “Got it!”“Got what? No manners?”“Clubbing!”Finally, an idea that gives Ikuya pause. “Clubbing?”Clubbing might not be so bad. He’d hardly been a fixture, but during his first few years in London, he’d gone to his fair share of clubs with his friends. The music was always too loud, and the sea of moving bodies was a little claustrophobic, but Ikuya remembers enjoying them anyway. Dancing is fun. Dancing with friends is fun. Can he still dance? It’s been so long. And if the crowds were almost too much back then, how could he possibly handle them now?The real question is - excluding bar crawls, wine anything-but-tastings, and burlesque, how could he possibly handle anything - ever - if he doesn’t try?“Clubbing could work. As long as you don’t all disappear on me. I don’t know how I’d do on my own.”“I won’t go anywhere,” his brother promises. “Scout’s honor. Even if everyone else does, we can jump around and be stupid.”“Clubbing it is, then.”“Clubbing it is!”…lord have mercy on Ikuya’s soul.Why do people go clubbing so late? Was this really something he used to do? All this extra time is making him doubt all his life choices. He’s changed clothes no less than four times, suddenly wondering why he ever thought any of them looked good on him in the store. The urge to take the edge off with a few drinks is powerful. Only the memory of his last hangover keeps him from doing so.The group chat is moving a mile a minute, with logistics and all the minutiae of meeting up that Ikuya’s always hated flying back and forth. Naturally, Ikuya is contributing nothing. All he has to do tonight is show up, and even that’s a big maybe. Thirty texts later, he maxes out on the flurry of disorganized organizing and puts it on mute. When he taps out, his eyes are drawn to the conversation just below it, and - shit, he didn’t realize a name was missing from the group chat.They didn’t leave him out on purpose, did they? Yes, last time was a disaster, but he’d also been completely, idiotically unprepared. Not to mention they were in an intimate setting where conversation could not only be had, but fly right off the rails. Now he knows the risks, and tonight’s environment won’t exactly be conducive to personal conversation or, in his friends’ case, interrogation.Guilt gnaws at Ikuya’s insides as he wonders if they’ve prioritized his comfort - prioritized him - over someone who needs attention just as badly. They don’t even know what they’re celebrating. The longer he thinks about it, the less acceptable it becomes. He also just wants him there. This is his celebration, right? Not that it should have to be about him for them to include Asahi. So he jumps into the conversation with a short, accusatory you invited asahi right?Nagisa, bless him, instantly responds with a yes!! followed by but he said no :((((Okay. At least someone did the right thing. Now he has a sneaking suspicion, which he’s also very not okay with. Looking to confirm said suspicion, he taps into his conversation with Asahi and fills the empty space under their last exchange of good morning.
please come tonight?
Asahi’s response takes nearly a full minute longer than his standard five seconds.
are you sure?
Bingo.
i will come over there and drag you out myself if i have to
Though it bothers him immensely that he declined Nagisa’s invitation so Ikuya could have a good time, Asahi’s answer still makes him laugh.
don’t threaten me with a good time
And what if it’s a promise?Ikuya can barely hear himself think.The music is too loud, everything is too dark, and there are too many people. You couldn’t pay him to leave his brother’s side, and no, he doesn’t care if he’s acting like a child. How did he convince himself this was a good - no, fun idea? He wasn’t remotely prepared for any of this. Now that he’s here, however, he refuses to chicken out. If he can survive this, he can survive anything.Predictably, his brother drags him right to the bar. Ikuya is amenable, as it’s slightly quieter over here. ‘Quiet’ is relative in the extreme, but desperate times. Before he can stop him, his brother orders two shots of god only knows what.“Do I have to?”“Technically? No,” his brother says as he passes one of the shot glasses to Ikuya. “Legally? Yes.”“That doesn’t make any sense.”“Of course it does. On three, okay?”When in Rome. “Fine.”He joins his brother in throwing it back on two, because he knows his brother doesn’t have the patience for three. It tastes like regret and burns his throat, making him cough like the amateur he’s become.“There you go!” his brother says, proudly clapping Ikuya on the back and sending him into a full-on coughing fit. “Ready for round - ”“Kirishimas!”Ikuya is saved from round two by the appearance of their friends. The usual suspects are joined by two others he didn’t know were coming and hadn’t planned to reconnect with in a massive, dark room. Theoretical bottom and assumed top, Makoto and Sousuke, greet him like his absence was no big deal. Sousuke is his usual laid-back self, and Makoto is all smiles. Though he was never very close with either of them, Sousuke holds a special place in his heart from their shared relay experience, and Makoto was part of a transformative time in his life. He’s glad to see them and is pleasantly surprised by their easy acceptance of his return.“Shots?” Rin asks, unknowing traitor that he is. “This round’s on me.”Since everyone else is doing it, and he would have been conned into one by his brother anyway, Ikuya downs his second shot of the night. At least this time he knows it’s tequila. It still tastes like regret. He draws the line when Nagisa immediately orders another round. Stumbling around in the dark with hundreds of faceless strangers isn’t in his plans for tonight.“You look good,” Haru remarks once he’s close enough to be heard. Haru only yells when he’s been bottling up his feelings for too long. “Relaxed.”“Thanks. I feel relaxed. Maybe not this second,” he says, “but in general, yes.”“So that’s what we’re celebrating,” Haru guesses. “That’s a good reason.”Ikuya offers him a warm, grateful smile. “If you say so. And thanks. You’ve always been - I appreciate you.”“Likewise.” A kind sentiment, but Ikuya hasn’t ever pulled through for Haru the way Haru has for him. “I’m here if you ever need a break from Rin.”Ikuya throws his head back and laughs. “I always need a break from Rin.”Before Haru can say anything else, his brother’s yell of “Asahi!” draws their attention. The man in question looks relieved to have found them among the chaos. Their friends greet him with enthusiasm that makes Ikuya wonder if they feel guilty for excluding him.Haru side-eyes Ikuya and raises an eyebrow in a nonjudgmental question. Apart from a shrug, he provides no answer, and Haru doesn’t press as Ikuya leaves his side to make his way over to Asahi.“You came,” he smiles. “Good.”“I said I would.” Asahi looks him up and down. “New clothes?”“Yeah.” Ikuya doesn’t know whether to be flattered he noticed or embarrassed that his limited wardrobe has been so noticeable. “I decided to move into my closet.”Asahi’s smile tilts in a way that has Ikuya warm all over. “Well, you look good.”“Alright, kids,” comes his brother’s voice from right next to them. “Asahi, you have to catch up.” He shoves two shot glasses into Asahi’s hands, who regards them with dismay. “If Ikuya did it, you can too.”“Aniki, don’t pressure - ”“Guess I have no choice, huh?” Asahi downs both in quick succession, regret written all over his face as soon as they’re gone. “Please tell me you haven’t had a third.”“And be too drunk to watch everyone else get messy? Never.”“Thank god.”“Alright, time to hit the dance floor,” his brother announces to the group. “If you’re done being boring, that is,” he adds as an aside to the two-shot crew. Then he grabs Ikuya’s hand and drags him into the throng, forcing their friends to scramble in their wake so they don’t lose track of them.Nerves work their way to the surface as he’s jostled by complete strangers all up in his personal space. The music is too loud, the room is too dark, and there are too many people. A panic attack is hurtling down the pike at breakneck speed. He’s this close to making a break for it when his brother’s hand closes around his.“You’re okay!” he yells over the music. “I’m right here!”For some reason, that’s all Ikuya needs to hear. His body makes good on Haru’s observation and relaxes, and he begins to sway timidly in time to the music. It’s not quite like riding a bike. Moving like this is unfamiliar. Everyone else looks so at home in their body. Watching his friends makes him self-conscious of his own unsure movements, so he closes his eyes and follows the music. Slowly, he finds the rhythm and wraps his body around it, remembering how he used to feel when he wasn’t frozen in fear.When he opens his eyes, it’s no less dark, the music is no less loud, and there are still too many people, only he’s no longer moving against them - he’s moving with them. Nagisa wisely chooses that moment to go wild, grabbing Ikuya’s hands and bouncing around like the little jumping bean he is. Ikuya lets go of it all and joins him, laughing as they act like fools and give zero fucks. Their friends follow suit, and soon they’re all together in a way they haven’t been since - since Fukuoka, maybe?After a while, he feels the telltale prickle of being watched. A quick scan reveals his audience of one to be Asahi, whose gaze he wants nothing more than to keep on him. So he catches Asahi’s eye and beckons him closer, to which Asahi responds by reaching for his hand and drawing him in, applauding when Ikuya does a little spin.“You’re a natural,” he praises. “Ballerinas everywhere are terrified.”“I was thinking about another career change,” he says. “Now I have to.”Rei corrals them back into the group before Asahi can respond. No one is giving him weird looks or saying anything to make him uncomfortable or upset. After last time, he assumes it’s by design. Regardless, it’s appreciated. For the first time since his life fell apart, he’s not only out in the world, he’s part of it.They spend a while longer being ridiculous, and then the group begins to disperse. Ikuya’s nerves spike again, scared of being left alone until he realizes his brother and Asahi aren’t going anywhere. Does it make him feel like a kid in need of a babysitter? Yes. Is he so relieved he could cry? Good god, yes.“You good?” Asahi asks as Ikuya naturally gravitates toward him. “I won’t disappear on you, I promise.”Ikuya takes his hands. “I know.”“Think you guys’ll be okay if I get another drink?” his brother pipes up. “Or two.”“Or three?”“At least.”“Yes,” Ikuya laughs. “We’ll be fine.”“I figured,” his brother says, aiming a lascivious smile at Ikuya and laughing when he’s rewarded with a discreet middle finger. “I’ll be back!”He won’t. And that’s fine.“So,” he says, pulling Asahi in.“So,” Asahi answers. “And then there were two.”“Imagine that.” Asahi’s hands fall to his hips, and Ikuya bravely hooks a finger through one of Asahi’s belt loops. “I haven’t done this in forever,” Ikuya says as he begins to sway.One of Asahi’s hands moves to his waist. “Could have fooled me.”Ikuya breathes into Asahi’s hand, ribs expanding and contracting. His own hand slides across Asahi’s shoulder and trails down his arm. “And how about you?”Asahi smiles and follows Ikuya’s lead, coming closer and moving with him. “Guess you’ll have to show me.”Like before, Ikuya lets the music guide him. The pounding bass underscores his movements as his body rolls in gentle waves. Asahi goes where he goes, eyes traveling over Ikuya like he’s drinking him in. Being watched like this is a heady sensation.“You’re not bad yourself,” he observes. “You - ” his breath stutters when he feels Asahi’s thumb moving in circles on the skin just above the waistband of his jeans “ - you might be the natural.”“It’s easy when it’s you.”Simmering warmth settles low inside him, pushing him forward so he’s inches from being pressed up against Asahi. Their eyes meet, and Ikuya can’t look away, inexorably drawn by a sea of amethyst. His palm finds its way to Asahi’s stomach, not to push him away, but to feel. Asahi’s gaze drops for a moment as Ikuya wets his lips, and then his hand slips under the hem of his shirt, resting just above his hip bone. Ikuya’s skin burns under his touch.Then Asahi does something oddly sweet for the moment - he touches his nose to Ikuya’s, just a small nudge before retreating with a smile.Ikuya adores him.The sweetness dissipates in seconds, overwhelmed by the growing heat between them. With his hips moving in circles, Ikuya slowly turns away from Asahi, only for Asahi’s arms to snake around him from behind in a loose hold. They don’t cage Ikuya in - and because they don’t, because it feels so safe, he covers Asahi’s hands with his own and presses them against his stomach. Then he leans back and pushes against him, suggestive without crossing into obscenity.“You’re going to be the end of me, I swear,” Asahi whispers, his breath tickling Ikuya’s ear. One hand leaves Ikuya’s stomach and slides up the side of his thigh, sending liquid heat pooling low in his abdomen.He wants this so badly. All he can think about is turning around and kissing Asahi senseless, leaving here with him and spending the night in the bedroom he’s only seen through a screen. And tomorrow night, and the night after that, and - and what would it be? What would it mean? They’re more than friends. That much is clear. But nothing about them is definitive, and he’s learned the hard way how dangerous the unknown is.Then there’s the heart of the matter - after all this time, he still has no idea what they were, or what they became. The revelation is unexpected but no different from last week - one more someone and something lives between them, and unlike Ikuya’s something and someone, this could break them both. It’s his fault for allowing it to go this far. He’s not leading Asahi on, so how does he explain this?As if sensing something is off, Asahi slows down, which frustrates Ikuya so badly he could scream. No cold water’s been poured on his need, dampening how much he wants. This is all what his mind and body won’t allow him to do because he’s a coward who’s still in hiding. Ashamed, he turns to face Asahi, who looks far more afraid than judgmental.“This isn’t what you think,” he says helplessly. “I want - ”“You don’t have to want anything,” Asahi cuts him off. “Please don’t think I only wanted - ”Desperate to communicate that he understands and does want, Ikuya cups the back of Asahi’s neck and brushes his lips over his cheekbone, just under his ear. Then again, and again, trailing lingering kisses over soft, heated skin.“I know,” he whispers, resting his forehead against Asahi’s once he’s drawn back. “I don’t think that.”The crowd around them moves endlessly, surrendering the way they were moments ago. Ikuya wants to shut himself off and fall back into that space, but there’s no way back, not after he broke the spell. Asahi’s eyes are on him, anxious and slightly dazed. Ikuya wills himself not to cry, even as his mouth twists and tears gather at the corners of his eyes.“Please don’t cry,” Asahi pleads. “I’m not worth crying over, I promise.”Except he is. No one knows that better than Ikuya.“I should go,” he says. The joy and excitement of tonight is disappearing, and he ought to as well before ruining anyone else’s night. “I - will you call me this week?” he asks, looking for reassurance he doesn’t deserve.“Yeah,” Asahi gives him that reassurance, his eyes full of urgency. “No, I - I will. Should I tell your brother…?”“Please. You guys should stay and have fun.” Asahi’s pained expression tells him he will not be having fun. Ikuya can hardly blame him. “I’m sorry.” He presses his lips to Asahi’s cheek one more time, knowing it’s nowhere near enough. “Goodnight.” Then he leaves, vanishing into the crowd that’s too big, the room that’s too dark, and the music that’s too loud.The taxi ride home lasts forever. At least this time, he doesn’t subject the poor driver to his sobs. He waits until he’s safely back in his apartment to throw a pillow at the wall with a yelled “Fuck!” before retrieving and pushing his face into it as he cries.He ruined it, didn’t he? This whole time he’s had nothing but opportunities to get out ahead of it, and he never did.The rising tide of hypotheticals has finally reached his feet, and it’s come to drown him.Eleven days.Eleven days later, Ikuya’s phone is more active than ever. Friends and family are all in regular contact, and he’s in regular contact with them. Like a normal person. This is what he’s wanted ever since he moved back to Japan.Eleven days.Eleven days later, Ikuya’s phone is dead silent. The call he knew would never come never came, not in the week following, nor this one. There’s no way around it - Asahi’s done with him.Again.And who could blame him? In the end, everything he cried to his brother about that night was true. This time was so much worse, because Ikuya had him. There was so much more to lose, and he’s lost it. And the worst part? It was a self-fulfilling prophecy.Unlike the fiasco at Rin and Haru’s, Ikuya isn’t non-functioning or sleepless. There are no intrusive thoughts or fear or the worst days of his life playing on loop. This time he’s just depressed. Pathetically heartsick and depressed, like the girl who gets dumped in a rom-com. Only in this scenario, he’s the one at fault.How lame.On the eleventh day, his brother comes over to check on his depressed, heartsick little brother.“No more TV with the lights off,” he orders as soon as he enters the apartment. “Come on. And I thought you got rid of those sweats?”“They’re for when I’m depressed,” Ikuya pouts. “Don’t make me get rid of my depression sweats.”“Are they clean, at least?”“Amazingly, yes.”“Then you can keep them,” his brother says. Then he turns on the lights, ignoring Ikuya’s complaints about the sudden brightness. “Alright, move. I’m coming in.” Ungraceful as always, his brother dives under the blanket Ikuya’s buried under and pulls it over their heads. His phone’s flashlight goes on seconds later, illuminating their faces like campers about to tell scary stories. “So? You going to spill or what?”“I ruined everything,” he spills. “You kept telling me to talk to him about it, and I didn’t. Now it’s biting me in the ass. I deserve it, too.” His brother doesn’t ask what ‘it’ is. He knows. He’s only been warning Ikuya about ‘it’ since he and Asahi reconnected. “I practically rejected him right there in the middle of the club. I didn’t even give him a reason. I blew it.”“For what it’s worth, he left as soon as he told me you’d taken off,” his brother tells him before addressing anything else.Knowing his brother, he’s leaving out a few key pieces he’ll only share if Ikuya asks. Ikuya wouldn’t want to know anyway, which his brother also knows. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t want to keep partying after that either. I didn’t.”“You really love taking the blame, don’t you?” his brother asks. “I keep trying to tell you that Asahi could have brought it up too. I know I try not to do the whole taking sides thing, but I’m going to play devil’s advocate here for a minute. I only remember you getting ditched back in the day. By him. Am I wrong?”“No, but - ”“Was he the one having a panic attack in Belgium?”“Well, no. But that’s not - ”“So why isn’t any of this on him?” his brother pushes. “Why shouldn’t he be the one bringing it up?”“I don’t know!” Ikuya says, far louder than intended. “I don’t know. At least he never led me on back then. There’s no way that wasn’t how it came across this time. I mean, he said he’d call. But I knew he wouldn’t. And he hasn’t.”His brother frowns. “And that doesn’t bother you? Like, it doesn’t make you angry? Not at yourself,” he amends before Ikuya can agree. “I know you’re mad at yourself. At him.”“I don’t - I love him, okay?” he says out loud for the first time. “I love him.”“Yeah, no shit,” his brother agrees without pause. Oh. Wasn’t that supposed to be more of a reveal? “Doesn’t change my question.”“I - maybe?” Is he?“You’re sitting here depressed over him like you were for years.”Should he be angry? Ikuya didn’t push him out the door this time, or keep his own feelings under lock and key. He apologized and tried to make it clear how much he wants him. Does he deserve to be ghosted for it? Far more importantly, not three weeks ago he told Asahi something he’s never told anyone - something he couldn’t tell anyone. Then it’s radio silence the second Ikuya wavers?“I might be angry. But I’m sad. I’m so sad.” What he confided in Asahi that night at the beach bubbles up again. “I think…I think I’m more hurt than angry.”“You can be all three. To be clear, I’m not hating on Asahi,” his brother says. “Maybe you’re scared to be angry or hurt now that he’s become so important to you. Like you won’t be able to get back how you feel about him now if you let yourself feel any other kind of way.”Ikuya considers it. “Possibly.” Not possibly. His brother hit the nail on the head. “He’ll just become that person again, and I won’t be able to see him any other way or love him anymore. I don’t want to hate him.” “Can you hold him accountable without hating him?”There’s so much to account for. Years and years - and now this.“I wish I knew.” What he does know is he’s now considering his hurt and anger, both past and present. This isn’t okay, is it? All Ikuya backed away from was having sex, and not for lack of wanting. Is this…? No, this can’t be like Belgium. There’s no way he’s opened up twice only to have a move made on him. There’s no way, right? “I’m so tired. I’m tired of leaving people who treat me like shit, only to end up with more of the same - Asahi isn’t Alex, but you know what I mean. Am I meant to be alone? It feels like the universe is trying to tell me there’s no one.”“No,” his brother shuts him down unequivocally, putting his hands on his shoulders and looking him dead in the eye. “Life’s been cruel to you. More than anyone I know, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’ve had a part in it too, which I will always regret.” Even when he was hurting and lonely because of his brother, Ikuya still loved him. “But you’re not meant to be alone, because fuck the universe.”Ikuya curls into a ball and pitches forward against his brother. “Fuck the universe,” he mumbles as he hugs him. “The universe is the fucking worst.”“So tell it to go fuck itself,” his brother laughs as he strokes Ikuya’s hair. “Maybe even tell Asahi to go fuck himself. You can tell him you’re madly in love with him while you’re at it. I didn’t mean to brush that off, by the way. I know it’s a big deal for you to say it.”“It’s whatever.” It couldn’t be less whatever. “I guess this is all going to have to come from me, huh?”“Sure seems like it. I know it’s not fair, but if he’s going to keep running, you need to hit him over the head with it.”Ugh. This is so unfair. But he’s so over being a professional victim. He doesn’t even get paid for it - his victimhood is all pro bono. At what point does he finally break and scream ‘enough?’ Soon, hopefully. Psyching himself up for it may take some time, but he’ll make sure it doesn’t become an excuse. He’ll practice what he’s going to say, so by the time he’s psyched himself up he’ll be able to articulate exactly what he wants to say, exactly how he wants to say it.He can do this.Right after pizza.“Are you about to ask if we can get pizza?”“…you don’t know me.”Eighteen days.Eighteen days after that fateful night, Ikuya’s phone remains more active than ever.Eighteen days.Eighteen days after that fateful night, Ikuya’s phone remains dead silent.Since day eleven, Ikuya has been practicing what he wants to say and how he wants to say it. So far, he’s satisfied, proud, and confident. His perspective is balanced and rational. Years ago, Haru advised him to always lead with his heart, not his hurt. It was good advice, and he’s going to ignore that using it to make his decision to go to London was only successful because it was hours before the news of Asahi’s proposal. He’s also going to ignore that it led him to Alex. Those were extenuating circumstances.Right?This time, he can follow Haru’s advice unimpeded.But because it can go fuck itself, the universe has other plans.Wednesday dawns a bright, quintessentially Autumn day. It’s the kind of day when staying inside feels wrong, like something precious is being wasted. Ikuya takes advantage of it and heads to Shinjuku National Garden, where the city sounds are muffled by trees bursting with color and leaves carpet the ground, crunching under his feet.He veers off the main drag down a small, quiet path. A narrow boardwalk hovers above a stream, not wide enough to accommodate people headed in opposite directions, which is one hell of a design flaw.So of course there’s someone headed toward him. Standing his ground would be childish. He’ll just go back and try again once they’re past. A moment of hesitation brings them face to face, and by the time he realizes who it is, it’s too late.“…Ikuya?”Holy living fuck. Nothing - nothing could have prepared him for this. This was never, ever supposed to happen. But no, the universe has a chokehold on him, and this really is happening.“Aito?” Aito’s surprise quickly schools itself into a hardened indifference that throws Ikuya even more than being confronted with the person who accidentally ruined most of his twenties. “Hi?” he ventures carefully while imagining sprinting in the other direction. “How are you?”Aito doesn’t acknowledge Ikuya’s greeting. “You moved back.” It’s not a question.“I did. In the spring.” What is he supposed to say now? There is no fucking roadmap in existence that could get him through this conversation. Even if someone else came now, he couldn’t just leave - he’d have to walk in the same direction. This is his nightmare. “Are you visiting from Kyoto?”A mistake.Aito’s eyes narrow. “I’m assuming you heard that from Asahi?”Or literally anyone else? Why assume that?“…yes,” he answers anyway.“So you two reconnected?”“…yes.” Why is he answering like he’s admitting a lie to his parents?Aito gives him a once-over, lingering just a second too long on his hand and mouth. “Interesting. How did that happen?” he says once he’s done making Ikuya feel seen in all the wrong ways.What’s happening right now? This person isn’t anything like the Aito he knew. The Aito he knew really, genuinely liked him, right? Sure, Ikuya hated him, but even he could acknowledge how nice Aito was. As far as he knows, he never did anything to Aito. The thing in the bathroom wasn’t even his fault…was it? Does he know? Does he -“I don’t - we just ran into each other. We live in the same neighborhood.” No, seriously - what’s happening right now? Why is he scared? “So, um. How have you been?” Not that he gives a single flying fuck.“That might be one of the only times you’ve ever asked me that. I guess you learned some actual manners in Europe.”There’s no way that’s true. “I’m sorry, is there a problem?” he asks. “Did I do something?”“You’re kidding,” Aito snorts. “In all what - six years I knew you? you were maybe the rudest, least likable person I’d ever met.”Wait, what? No - Ikuya tried his absolute best with him. When was he ever rude? And unlikable? That’s easier to believe, but no one could accuse him of not at least trying to be nice. Despite knowing that, his heart rate is soaring. “I…what? I don’t understand. How was I - ”“You could barely say hi,” Aito interrupts. “From the day I met you to the day you left, I tried and tried, because if Asahi was so obsessed with you when I met him, there must have been something I was missing. And guess what? There was nothing.” This is all happening on a little one-way boardwalk tucked away in Shinjuku National Garden. This isn’t real. “I don’t blame Asahi for treating you like you were radioactive after seeing how you treated me. But you were still some golden child in everyone’s eyes,” he adds. “And I will never understand why.”Ikuya feels the ground fall away beneath him.Radioactive?The word rings loud and clear, damning and so…believable.“That’s not fair,” he argues, even though it kind of feels fair. “You don’t know me.”“Maybe not. But I know you tried to ruin our engagement party, and our time in Belgium.” Shit. “I don’t know what you said to him in that bathroom, but it was enough to have him crying all night and afraid to spend any time with our friends. What is wrong with you?” Our friends. Like Ikuya wasn’t one of them. “I was so relieved when you left Japan. He was too. We could finally focus on us without you always…there.”Everything’s becoming distorted. What had Asahi been saying about him all those years? Clearly how he couldn’t stand to be in the same room - no, country as Ikuya. That, and how Ikuya hurt his feelings in Belgium. Which means after tearing Ikuya’s heart to pieces, he made Ikuya the villain in the story he told. His mind is racing, trying to understand what he could have said or done to make his once best friend hate him enough to lie about him, celebrate him leaving the country, and call him radioactive. But then -“Then what happened? I couldn’t have ruined your marriage. I wasn’t even there.”“Don’t shortchange yourself,” Aito says. “You didn’t have to be there. Do you think I didn’t know who those gifts were from? We were barely married a month, Ikuya, and you were still trying to insert yourself from the other side of the world.”Didn’t Asahi say Aito didn’t know they were from him? Didn’t he say that the second time they hung out? What have these last six months even been? Aito never actually said what ended their marriage, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Not when everything - no, not when he suddenly feels so cheap. Used. He’s a toy. People love nothing more than to play with him, so that’s what he must be.“You’ll be happy to know I came back a failure, then,” he manages.“The hope was you’d never come back at all. Should have figured you’d go after him the second you did. Guess it worked this time. Congratulations.”Not acknowledging his failure makes him feel invisible. Failure or success, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is he’s rotten, unlikable, and radioactive. The person he let back in, trusted, and allowed himself to fall in love with a second time fucking played him. Again.“I’m sorry I was - I wasn’t trying to - ”“Save it,” Aito dismisses his apology. “I’m much happier now. I’m staying with Kisumi, I’ll be sure to let him know I ran into you.” Right. Kisumi must hate him too if Asahi had been talking about him like that for years. “I’d say it was nice to see you, but it really wasn’t. Tell everyone else I said hi, though. I miss them.”Like a dog with its tail between its legs, Ikuya nods. “Okay. I will.”“Great. Well, I’m going this way.” Aito points back the way he came. “Hopefully we won’t see each other again.”“I - okay. I’ll go - ”But Aito’s already gone, walking briskly away from Ikuya like he’s going to be just fine, like he didn’t just bring Ikuya’s world crashing down around him. He stands there and watches him disappear, frozen to the spot with next to no air while blood roars in his ears and his heart hammers painfully in his chest.This is so much worse than losing him. Ikuya’s life has been full of rock bottoms, but this might just be the worst. At least he wasn’t foolish enough to run back and place every ounce of trust he had in Alex once he’d escaped for good.Turns out past performance is an indicator of future results.When he comes out of his stupor, he’s still standing on the boardwalk. Alone. No one is coming in either direction - he might as well have dreamed what just happened, except he didn’t. That very fucking much just happened. Only one word echoes in his head as he leaves the boardwalk behind, carrying him out of the park and toward his destination, over and over and over until there’s nothing else.Enough.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Fuck the smiling, always ready to talk your ear off doorman. Fuck the silent elevator. Fuck the even more silent hallway of the fifteenth floor. Fuck this entire building.Most of all, fuck this door he’s standing in front of, and fuck the doorbell. The doorbell is for polite people. Ikuya isn’t polite. Ikuya is radioactive. Radioactive people pound on the goddamn door.Moments later, the door opens, courtesy of the man who could never quite get fucking with him out of his system. Ikuya doesn’t give him time to react to his unwelcome appearance, elbowing past him and inviting himself into the apartment where he never belonged. When he hears Asahi’s footsteps behind him, he whirls on him, tension streaming from his nostrils like he’s going to start breathing fire. Maybe he will. Wouldn’t that be fun?Asahi is clearly freaked out, either by Ikuya’s fiery entrance or Ikuya showing up at all. Both, probably. “Ikuya? Look, I’m sorry I haven’t - ”“Am I a joke to you? Am I a fucking joke?”“No!” Asahi says, desperate and maybe a little confused. “I should have called, I know. I wanted to. But I - ”“Please,” Ikuya laughs, slightly manic. “Don’t give me that shit. You were never going to call. For some reason, you think it’s funny to fuck with me before humiliating me. You always have.”Asahi is well past alarmed now, having crossed over into wide-eyed fear. Good. “Ikuya, I want to talk about this, I swear, I just didn’t - ”“Alright then, let’s talk about it. Actually, no. I’ll talk about it, since apparently all you’ve done is talk for the last ten years. It’s my turn now.” Asahi is doing his best not to shrink back as Ikuya advances on him. He fails. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Tough being around someone radioactive, right? All that radiation poisoning.”“Radioactive?” Asahi takes a small, overly brave step forward. “I don’t understand - ”“I did nothing to you,” he snaps, refusing to hear a single lie. “Nothing. Thank god I helped you find your gem of an ex, since you were so desperate for any reason to get as far away from me as possible. I didn’t realize finding someone you could spend the rest of your life shit-talking me with was part of the deal. You should be thanking me.” This feels fucking awful. This feels fucking amazing. Asahi is looking at him in complete and utter bewilderment, and all that means is Ikuya hasn’t achieved his goal. No worries, he’s more than happy to keep going. “I used to wonder why I didn’t even cut it as a friend. Why replace me there too? Now I get it. Two people to bitch about how much you hate me with is better than one, right? Especially if they hate me too.”“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” Asahi tries to push back. “I owe you, I know, and - wait, hated you? Shit, I know, I know that’s how it came across, and I - ”“Came across? Yeah, I guess it did come across that way. Since it was how you felt and all. At least I had a reason to hate you. Unlike you, who hated me for no fucking reason I can think of. I even spelled out why I hated you in Belgium. Now I get why it didn’t matter. Now I understand why you literally tried to fuck me after I spilled my guts. You didn’t care,” he accuses him, one of the thousands he has locked and loaded. “Was that why you told Aito I said something awful to you? You were pissed I wouldn’t let you fuck me, so you had to turn me into some kind of villain to kiss your bruised ego all better?”The air around him is crackling with ten years of grief and hurt at the hands of people he loved, fueled by an arsenal of cruel revelations and accusations leveled at him in the space of five minutes. This is it. This is everything he’s never been brave enough to say. If anyone’s earned the right to some scorched fucking earth, it’s him. His brother would probably advise against it, but there are some things he knows better than his brother, and this is one of them. He’s not enjoying this, per se, but fuck if he’s not relishing every second. Asahi’s growing confusion and horror just confirms what Ikuya won’t allow him to admit - he’s been found out, called out, whatever. He’s fucked, and he knows it.“Also, unless I’m misremembering, you followed me out of your own engagement party. So how exactly did I ruin it? Was it because I didn’t tell you I was leaving? I would have if I’d known you’d be so happy - so relieved to see me fuck off somewhere you’d never have to deal with me again. Somewhere I couldn’t ruin your marriage, which is apparently what I was doing. Sorry I made your perfect life so awful.” Then, with another step forward and another step back from Asahi, “Why keep my gifts if you hated them so much? If they were trash from someone trying to ruin your marriage from another continent? If they were from a homewrecker?”Astoundingly, Asahi chooses now to square his shoulders and take a stand. “None of that is true,” he protests. “Ikuya, I don’t know where you’re getting this from, but that’s not how any of it went down. I’m so confused,” he says, taking a step toward Ikuya this time, and how dare he? “I should have told you everything the second I saw you, I know that. But this? I don’t know where this is coming from.”“What I don’t understand,” Ikuya goes on, “is why a second time? Was destroying me once not enough? And this was so much worse. You got me to trust you. I told you something I didn’t - couldn’t tell anyone, not even my own brother, who was there for me every second your I Hate Ikuya club was in session. I gave that to you.” A sob finally works its way out, only serving to enrage him further - he can’t even get through this without showing weakness. “I can never get that back. What is it about me that makes people want to torture me? I didn’t do anything to you, I didn’t do anything to him, and I didn’t do anything to you again. But it didn’t matter, because something about me makes it fun. Something about me makes it satisfying to take me and fuck with me and play the long con before ruining me. Perfect, my ass,” he finishes.The silence in the apartment is deafening, leaving his last words hanging in the air. Every inch of him is trembling with unrestrained rage and hurt, and his throat is sore from talking for so long and so forcefully. Now that he’s talked himself hoarse, helplessness creeps in, coloring his rage with despair. What happens next? Does he let Asahi talk? Does he play ball and let Asahi try to climb out of the hole he’s dug for himself?“Will you at least tell me where you heard this?” Asahi pleads. “There’s so much that’s not - I was the fucking worst. What I did was unforgivable. But it wasn’t this.”“Funny you should ask. I just had an enlightening run-in with your ex, actually. Maybe you two should get back together. You’ve got so much new Ikuya material to bond over. Really juicy stuff.”Asahi pales at the mention of his partner in crime. “No,” he breathes. “Fuck, of course he - Ikuya, you have to let me explain.”“I don’t have to do anything,” he says. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m even still standing here. I have had it up to here with being taken advantage of by one piece of shit after another.” To Asahi’s credit, he doesn’t shy away when Ikuya gets in his face. “Alright. Explain. But it better be the best explanation in human history, or you will never see me again.”Asahi hesitates, and Ikuya starts preparing to walk out the door and out of his life for good until he finally finds it in him to speak. “I don’t know where to start.”“Most people tend to start at the beginning.”Ikuya is expecting further hesitancy, so he’s surprised when Asahi dives right in. “First, I never hated you. Not for one second, not ever. I’ve never hated anyone less. It was the opposite - I never wanted to download an app, Ikuya. Ever.”Ikuya swallows. “Then why did you?”“Because I had no chance with you.”Just like he was on the boardwalk, Ikuya is speechless. All he’s got is “What?” because he can’t digest that information. It doesn’t mean what it sounds like.“You said I should download it. You helped me make my profile. I was sitting there trying to accept that I was getting rejected - not that it was your fault you didn’t feel the same way,” he says in an attempt to shore up any misunderstanding. “But being told I should get out on the dating scene was…fuck, I sound like I’m blaming you, and I’m not. Even when I started seeing people, I was still trying to see if maybe you liked me, and I was just misreading everything.”No. This is what happened to Ikuya. He’s telling Ikuya’s story. No chance with him? The only thing keeping him from going off on him again is morbid curiosity and the desire to see how much of his experience Asahi will try to co-opt.“And?”“And every time I did, you encouraged me to get out there and keep looking, or pushed me away. You were making it pretty clear. I had to respect that, right? Eventually I started taking the dating thing seriously because I was just some idiot who didn’t want to be alone. I think I was looking to replace you,” he confesses. “Like, there has to be someone out there who’ll be for me, and they’ll be for me because they want me back.”“So when did you get sick of me? As a person?” he asks, because regardless of Asahi’s claims, he still left Ikuya in the dust. “When did being around me become so repulsive?”“Never. I - ”“Bullshit! You can’t pretend you didn’t do what you did.”“I’m not. I promise I’m not. But I also never got sick of you or thought you were repulsive. I was so fucking confused, Ikuya,” he says. “I met Aito and thought shit, on paper he’s everything I’m looking for. I told myself ‘you need to like this guy,’ because he was my way out of you. Except there was no way out of you. I really did like him. A lot. I let myself get carried away because I thought I’d finally figured it out. I wasn’t going to be alone, there was someone who was all about me and probably perfect for me - and I was finally going to get over you.”“I’m sorry,” Ikuya jumps in - he’s not done reeling from Asahi’s non-confession, “so are you saying that until you met him, you wanted - ”“I wanted you after I met him!” Asahi cries. “I would have dumped him on the spot if you said something as dumb and pointless as ‘you’re cute,’ which I felt awful about. He didn’t deserve a boyfriend like that. So I tried to distance myself. If I wasn’t always around you, I’d be able to be a better partner. It didn’t work,” he laughs bitterly. “Every time I did end up around you, I’d be back to square one, ready to chase after someone who I could tell didn’t even like me anymore. Understandably. So I told him.”“You what?” Ikuya hisses, indignation shouldering aside his disbelief. “You went and made me public enemy number one?”Asahi runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I told him I was hung up on you because I wanted to give him the chance to get rid of me. Instead he said he understood, and that it was nothing we couldn’t work through together. Then I knew - or thought I knew - that I’d found the right person. That’s what I told myself, anyway.”“This isn’t helping,” Ikuya responds, voice strained as he does what he can not to cry. “You ended up using me as a way to strengthen your relationship. Whether you meant to or not, that’s what you did.”“Believe me, I know. He would have figured it out whether I told him or not, but at least if I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have had ammo he could use for the next eight years.”“Alright, so you two were working past - past me together,” he says through gritted teeth. “What exactly did working past me mean to you?”“It meant focusing on us more. He was sure it was the right thing to do, and I felt so fucking guilty. So I distanced myself from you even more, which I felt even worse about. You’d done nothing but not love me back, and I was making you pay for it,” he says, shoulders hunched in shame. Ikuya bristles, because he should be savoring Asahi’s shame sympathy-free, and yet. “And by then it was obvious you hated me, which I deserved. There was nothing left to focus on but me and him.”This is what Ikuya came here wanting to hear. He actually came here to lay into Asahi, but still. What he needs are answers, and these answers are and are fucking not the ones he was expecting. The idea of Asahi loving him, of needing to get over him - he’s disconnected from it right now, unable to view it as anything other than a puzzle piece on Asahi’s way to assembling a whole picture. That, and a decade of behavior screaming otherwise makes it extremely hard to believe. His anger is quiet now, but no less potent.“And then?” he prompts, rubbing his temple to stave off a building migraine. “When you were finally able to focus?”“It was good for a while,” Asahi admits, and fuck, does that sting. “I tried to follow his lead since he was being so understanding. It took me a while to realize he was really insecure, and not only about you - about everything. You were the main thing, the thing he could always point to because I’d up and told him how I felt about you. He didn’t want me around you at all unless he was there. Then one day, he tells me I have to choose between him and you.” Ikuya watches as Asahi gathers himself. “I’d already fucked up so badly with you, I knew you’d never even take me back as a friend. So I chose the only option there was.”Back then Ikuya couldn’t have imagined Aito issuing an ultimatum, much less to someone he’d been with for years. Didn’t he already know who Asahi chose? Although if the Aito he’d just run into was anything like that back then - but it all seems so impossible.“So, did you propose to prove a point? Or because you wanted to?”“Both?” Is he fucking kidding right now? “Yes, it was a big gesture that I thought for sure would shut the other shit down for good. It was also something I convinced myself I really wanted to do. This is - fuck, there’s no good way to say this,” Asahi groans. “Things did get better once I decided to push you away for good. I wasn’t getting shit from him, and I was able to enjoy myself and be around people without constantly beating myself up or waiting for the next jealous heart-to-heart. It made it easy to tell myself I was over you and wanted to spend my life with him.”“This story better have one hell of an ending,” Ikuya warns. “Because so far, I’m hearing a whole lot of how much better your life was once you kicked me to the curb. And you’ve said nothing about why Kisumi was suddenly your best friend for life.”“We’d been friends for years,” Asahi says, because Ikuya really needed his nose rubbed in it. “They were already close by the time I realized I’d lost you, so it was kind of by default and approval. They were a package deal. They left as one too.”“Must suck having friends who’ll just up and leave you, huh? Wonder what that’s like.”“I got what I deserved with him,” Asahi agrees. “Listen, you didn’t ruin our engagement party. I did. I know that. When I found out you were leaving, I just…lost it. I’d fucked up so bad I didn’t even know you were leaving. The same part of me that would have thrown everything away for you came back in a fucking second. I don’t even know what I was doing - it was some last-ditch effort about four years too late, and it showed. He knew,” he says, not bothering to specify who. “It was easy for him to blame it on you when I wouldn’t have blamed you for not showing at all. I wouldn’t have if I were you.”“It took everything for me to show,” Ikuya says. “And then you had the audacity to ask if I’d come all the way back to Japan for your wedding? You had to know it was a hell no from me.”Asahi’s almost-smile is rueful and doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course I knew. The only thing going through my mind was that this was it. I’d never see you again. Even if you visited, I wouldn’t be part of it. I probably wouldn’t even know you were here. There was never any guarantee of making it to Worlds as I got older, and let’s be real, the Olympics were never going to happen. So I just threw out the only thing I could think of where I’d be there too. Which was insane.”Out of nowhere, it strikes Ikuya that Asahi must have been in an enormous amount of pain. The thought hits him like a sack of bricks. Ikuya spent that night crying, as he had most nights back then. This whole thing was a mess of Asahi’s making, and yet -“So was it a relief when I left?” he asks, trying to stay the course and keep his anger front and center. “Did things stay better?”“It was a huge relief for him, obviously. Things were about as good as they’d ever been because he was so happy you were gone.” The more Ikuya hears, the more conditional their relationship sounds. “Was I relieved? Yes - but not in the way you think,” Asahi says before Ikuya can react. “Sure, it was a relief to have him off my back about you. But mostly I was relieved you were somewhere I couldn’t hurt you anymore just by being there.” Asahi wipes a hand across his face. “Somewhere you could hopefully forget I existed.”He comes this close to saying it would be impossible, that he could never forget he existed. That wouldn’t be true, though. Up until things went south with Alex, he almost had forgotten about him. His new life was so removed from his old one, unencumbered by the immediacy of its hurt. The glaring exception was a single week in those three and a half years. Doing his best to ignore how his mouth quivers and heart clenches, he arrives at the turning point, the fulcrum upon which so much pain, confusion, and heartbreak balances.“Was that really what you wanted?” he challenges him. “Because the one time I saw you, you made yourself pretty unforgettable.” Inhale on five, exhale on five. “I need to know what happened in Belgium. If it wasn’t what I think it was, then you have to tell me. Because those ten minutes have haunted me since I was twenty-seven.”“Me too.” Ikuya allows a few moments of quiet, a mutual understanding that this is where Ikuya either leaves or stays. “I was convinced I’d be fine when I saw you. I was nervous, but I told myself that was normal. I even managed to convince Aito I’d be fine. Then I did see you, and before you even said hi, I knew nothing had changed.”Inhale on five, exhale on five. “Go on.”“You were talking about your dating life while I was sitting there freaking the fuck out. If I had just waited a few years instead of barreling headfirst into a relationship because I was so fixated on not being alone in my early twenties, would everything be different? It was like I was sitting at the table with my two biggest mistakes.” Everything about him screams regret. Ikuya is doing everything in his power to feel nothing but pain and rage, but fuck, it’s hard when Asahi sounds so trapped. “I have no idea what I was doing when I followed you. You laying into me like that - which I deserved - and having everything I’d done laid out from start to finish…two things happened. One, it was the worst thing I’ve ever heard, because it was all true. I’d have to live with that for the rest of my life.”Ikuya nods when Asahi isn’t immediately forthcoming with the rest. “And two?”“Two, it seemed to matter so much when I shouldn’t have mattered to you at all,” Asahi says. “I wondered if maybe - for the first time, I thought maybe there was the smallest chance. And I knew if there was, I would have walked out of that bathroom and ended my whole engagement. I know that makes me a terrible person, but it’s what I would have done.”Suddenly it’s all too much. Ikuya walks over to the couch and drops down, tapping his foot in a rhythm with no time signature. As he waits for Asahi to continue, he worries his lip between his teeth, trying to understand the implications of all this. What was only a puzzle piece is beginning to wind itself through Ikuya’s body, giving way to a cruel, nascent hope that maybe he’ll believe what Asahi says next. It’s a big maybe, but maybe wasn’t even in his lexicon when he got here. It wasn’t in his lexicon five minutes ago.“So?”“So then I fucked it up as bad as I possibly could. I had one chance, and I got carried away. I’d just imagined it for so long,” Asahi says, “and it seemed like you - but it doesn’t matter. Yes, if that woman hadn’t barged in, I would have kissed you. Then I would have told you I was in love with you and always had been. All of it. That was my big fuck up - doing it out of order. So of course you thought I was coming onto you, and I just stood there and watched the one chance I ever had disappear. Plus I’d hurt you again, which I couldn’t seem to stop fucking doing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt worse in my life.”“Join the club,” Ikuya huffs, but there’s no fire behind it. Realization creeps up on him, a connecting of the dots. “That’s why you cried all night?”“Yeah. I’ve had a lot of lows in the last few years, but that was by far the lowest. I didn’t tell Aito anything,” he adds. “Considering he had to know I was crying about being in love with someone else, he was amazingly supportive. I can’t imagine how awful that must have felt. Like I said, I’m a terrible person. Although I think I spent the rest of our relationship paying for it. Aito never stopped cashing in that one week of support,” he says. “I’m grateful you let me get out my shitty apology before we left. I knew for sure I’d never see you again - ” his voice spikes with emotion, forcing him to stop for a few seconds “ - and I didn’t want your last memory of me to be in that bathroom. I didn’t want you to remember me at all, but if you did, I wanted it to be like that.”Looking at Asahi head-on is proving too difficult, so he turns away. Traitorous, hot tears roll down his face as he remembers that night and all the time he spent picking up the pieces of himself only to fall apart again, and all the years he’d spent saying goodbye.“Then you got married.”“Then I got married.”In the three years since then, Ikuya hasn’t become any less of a masochist. “What was that like?”“Same as everything else,” Asahi shrugs. “I was able to convince myself like I always did. So the wedding was great, I guess. Maybe not so great when I look back knowing what I know now, but we were happy. Everyone was so happy. It was easy to feed off their energy. But the second I got five minutes to myself, all I could think about was you. How it should be us. How I made sure it never could be us. Every choice I made led me to that day, and I had to make the best of it.”Out of the corner of his eye, Ikuya sees him sit down at the other end of the couch. He makes no attempt to bridge the space, giving Ikuya as much room as he needs. What Ikuya really needs is air, and while there’s none in here, he won’t find any outside, either. There’s no air to be had anywhere. The only path to breathing again is through.So, after six months of circling and cobbling together weak historical fiction, Ikuya finally does what he’s been avoiding. “So what happened?”“We weren’t built to last,” Asahi says. “There’s only so many times you can convince yourself you are. No one could do that for the rest of their lives, and I’d about maxed out after eight years. The insecurities got worse. He needed constant reassurance I don’t think anyone could have given him. But since I was his person, I was supposed to convince him my family, my friends - fuck, even my coworkers - didn’t hate him. I was spending all my time reassuring him, and when it wasn’t enough, we started fighting. They were fights I could never win, because you became his convenient excuse for never being at fault.”“Me?” Ikuya goes wide-eyed as everything Haru said falls into place. None of their guesses were even in the ballpark of the truth. “Was it the gifts?”“I really didn’t know he knew those gifts were from you. He never said anything. I’m surprised he didn’t, since I would have thought he’d have a field day using them against me. Explains why he didn’t want them when he wanted all the other nice shit.”All the comments about Aito not being an asshole and both of them trying to work on and fix their marriage - was everyone just trying to be nice? Or was Aito really that convincing?“You were married to him. You chose him. What more did he want?”“That’s exactly what I always said,” Asahi agrees. “Didn’t matter. There was no winning when he had hard evidence from years ago and wasn’t afraid to use it. It always ended with me feeling like I owed him, so I let him start calling all the shots just to make it up to him. Things were getting weird around our friends, and I felt like I owed him for that too. So I stopped going out to make things easier for everyone. I thought it would make things at home easier too. Shocker, it didn’t.” Hope glimmers in Asahi’s eyes as Ikuya angles his body toward him, no longer locked away behind iron gates and walls of stone. “I got pushed out of my own life, and I had no one to blame but myself. After a while it was obvious he wanted to be single again. First it was the redecorating, and then he was out partying with Kisumi all the time and complaining that I wasn’t any fun.”“So, who ended it?”“Him. Thank god he did, because I don’t know if I ever would have. I fucked you over again and again to end up there, so sitting at home regretting everything I did to you and wishing I’d done it all differently felt like a pretty fitting punishment.”Fuck. Self-punishment is Ikuya’s game. There’s no way around what Asahi did, but what if Ikuya had said something back then? Everything would be different - but it doesn’t matter anymore. What happened happened, and life has chewed them up and spit them back out. But he’s demanded the truth from Asahi today, and if he expects total transparency, he can’t be a hypocrite.The plunge is still terrifying after all these years.“I loved you.”Asahi does a confused double-take. “What?”“When I told you to download the app. When I helped you make your profile. Every time I encouraged you, or pushed you,” he says, “I loved you the whole time.”“No, I - what?” Asahi repeats. “But you - what? We could have - ” It’s not computing at all. “Then…why? I don’t - what?”“I didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same way,” he explains. “I’d lost too many people. What we had was good. I never knew how you felt - you seemed like you wanted to meet someone so badly. I figured it wasn’t me since I was right there, and the more serious you got, the more I knew it was never me. Didn’t matter in the end. You left anyway.” It’s not an accusation, and doesn’t sound like one. All his accusations have been thrown and met with truth after painful truth, just as he’d asked. “I never held falling in love with someone else against you. It was everything else. And it was why I never dated until I left Japan. I couldn’t find my way out of you.”It’s not guilt, but sadness that sits in his gut as he observes Asahi’s quiet devastation. His body won’t allow Ikuya to go to him, even as Asahi hangs his head in his hands and cries. Ikuya cries too - for himself, for Asahi, for how badly broken they became, and for where their lives led them.“You never would have met him,” Asahi sobs. “If I had just said something, none of this would have happened. You never would have met him.” Even with all the blame Ikuya’s assigned him, he would never lay Alex at Asahi’s doorstep. Before he can say so, Asahi looks up and lays something of his own at Ikuya’s doorstep. “When I ran into you that day, I thought I was dreaming. There was no way you were actually there, and there was no way you lived down the street. I went home and just sat there for, like, an hour. And while I was sitting there, I promised myself something.”Ikuya doesn’t bother wiping his tears away. There are too many. “What was it?”“That if you’d give me any kind of chance after what I did, I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”Ikuya’s hand does nothing to muffle the sound that leaves him, messy and broken and made up of everything his human experience has given him the ability to feel. Only then does his body give him free rein, and with it he moves to the other end of the couch, going to Asahi and settling beside him.Asahi doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself when Ikuya takes him in his arms and buries his face in his neck as he continues to cry. When Asahi does wrap his arms around him, Ikuya can feel the way his hands tremble on his back. That, above all else, is what keeps him there, carding soothing fingers through Asahi’s hair.They should never have ended up here. There is no pretending things didn’t go down the way they did, and there’s no rationalizing it away by saying they found each other when they were ready, or how they’re finally in the right place at the right time. Papering it over would be a disservice to them both.Also a disservice would be leading with his hurt until it’s overstayed its welcome. His hurt brought him here. His hurt demanded answers and didn’t back down until it had them all. His hurt could remain in the driver’s seat if he wanted - but what does he stand to gain from it aside from an emptiness he’ll never be able to fill? That’s no kind of life.Since he very much wants to live, it’s time to thank his hurt for the power and protection it’s given him and ask it to take a well-deserved rest. Ikuya and his heart can share the driver’s seat from now on. Before his hurt retreats, it lingers to ask why Asahi hasn’t called for eighteen days. Ikuya takes its hand, looks it in the eye, and sends it on his way.
In the face of a decade, eighteen days is nothing.He pulls back to study Asahi’s face. Asahi stares at him in wonder, like he’s trying to understand why Ikuya’s still here and coming up short. Ikuya brings his hand to Asahi’s cheek, warm with tears and the self-contained summer he carries inside.“It happened again.”“What did?” Asahi sniffles.Ikuya uselessly swipes the skin under Asahi’s eye with the pad of his thumb, catching one or two tears swiftly replaced by a hundred more. “I fell in love with you again.” This is all he has to give. “I love you.”Once again, Asahi appears to break down completely. Years of distrust make Ikuya wary - he’s never heard Asahi say the words, so although he knows what it means, the silence is loud in his ears, full of nothing and everything, good and bad.One long moment of free fall later, Ikuya gets his answer.“I love you,” Asahi says. “I always have. I could never figure out how to not love you - and I never want to.”They rest their foreheads against each other's and breathe together as their tears slow, existing in the moment. Ikuya can hardly believe this is happening - he’d come here to wash his hands clean of Asahi for good and ended up in his arms, unwilling to leave unless it’s together.“Please tell me this isn’t hypothetical.”Asahi’s answering laugh is something so, so old and so, so new. “I hate that word.”Ikuya’s laughter joins his. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Then, because the sheer emotional output and overstimulation of the last few hours is hitting him all at once, he says, “I’m so tired.” “Yeah. Me too,” Asahi says quietly.Ikuya pushes his nose against Asahi’s. “Can we just…lay down or something?”“Anything you want.”They untangle themselves and Ikuya follows Asahi into the bedroom he’s only ever seen through a screen in the apartment where he belongs. Since all he can focus on is Asahi and his own exhaustion, becoming better acquainted with it will have to wait. The only item of interest right now is the bed, the same size as Ikuya’s and perfect for two emotionally drained humans.Though it's been well over a month, their bodies remember each other and how they fit together, effortlessly finding and sinking into each other’s embrace. The fading afternoon sun streams through the windows, painting them in Autumn golds and reds. Ikuya presses tired kisses to Asahi’s jaw as Asahi rubs his back in gentle circles.“I love you,” Asahi whispers again and again, nuzzling Ikuya’s neck as their breathing evens out. “I love you.”Ikuya repeats after him again and again, eyes closed and quickly giving in to the heaviness in his limbs.Just before they drift off, Ikuya recalls the last time he told someone he loved them.They said they loved him too, then left him for dead. They perverted the meaning of the word, of what love is supposed to be. What it could be. This time, it’s an outstretched hand, pulling him back into the world of the living. The same hand follows as much as it leads, two hands out of sync for a lifetime now guiding each other forward.“I love you.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
When Ikuya wakes up, the sun is gone, and the apartment is dark.Asahi’s room. He’s in Asahi’s room. In Asahi’s bed. Where he should be. Asahi himself is right there, body molded to Ikuya’s. Even in the dark of the room, he’s still so bright. From just the right angle, he looks like he did back then, before all the pain, before all the regret. From just the right angle, there were never any apps, fourth dates, or international escapes. No scars, no divorces. From all other angles, Asahi looks like he does now, and how Asahi looks now is perfect. With quiet reverence, he brings his hand to Asahi’s face and skims his thumb beneath his eyes and over the bridge of his nose - those markings have always been so distinctive, a calling card unlike any Ikuya has ever seen.They’re precious.Taking care not to wake him, Ikuya slips out of bed and walks to the bathroom. Once he’s finished, he turns the light on and splashes his face with cold water. When he looks in the mirror, he sees a face blotchy from sleep and crying, throwing the pale, raised skin of his scar into sharp relief. There’s nothing he’ll ever be able to do about it. Maybe one day, he won’t notice it at all when he looks at himself. Maybe he’ll have accepted them as just another part of who he is.After he’s done studying his old wound, he hits the light and goes back to the bedroom, where Asahi’s woken in his absence. He shuts the door behind him as Asahi props himself up on his elbows.“Hey,” Asahi says, voice rough with sleep as he looks Ikuya over.A familiar warmth springs to life under Asahi’s gaze. “Hey.”“Come here.”Ikuya makes his way to the bed. Before rejoining Asahi, he undoes his jeans and steps out of them, leaving him in his underwear and t-shirt. Then he climbs back into bed, resting his head on the pillow as Asahi shifts to look down at him.“I want to know something,” Ikuya begins. Asahi waits for him to go on. “That night in Belgium.” Before Asahi can misunderstand him, Ikuya reaches up and traces the shell of his ear, lips curving up in a smile when he feels a slight tremor. “If that woman hadn’t come in.” Asahi seems to understand where he’s going and leans down to brush his lips over Ikuya’s cheekbone, drawing a sigh as his mouth moves to his temple. “If you’d done things out of order.” Asahi trails kisses across his face, charting a path toward his mouth. Ikuya tilts his head to meet him, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “How would you have done it?”“Do you want me to tell you?” Asahi asks, leaving a kiss at the corner of Ikuya’s mouth before pulling back to meet his gaze. Ikuya bites his lip when he sees the want there, the same want that’s been eating at him for months. “Or did you have something else in mind?”Ikuya drags his thumb along Asahi’s jaw. “I think I might need you to show me.”“Yeah?”“Ye - ”Ikuya’s barely finished before Asahi’s mouth is on his. A small moan escapes as his lips part, and Asahi’s tongue slides against his, warm and inviting. Their kisses are clumsy and uncoordinated in their desperation, broken by gasps and sighs. This is something Ikuya never thought he could have, and now that he does, he needs. Gently, he pushes Asahi onto his back and straddles him, then leans down to kiss him again, slow and sensual this time.Ikuya rolls his hips as their kisses deepen. Asahi makes a low noise, and his hands find Ikuya’s ass, massaging and guiding his movements as Ikuya starts to work on Asahi’s pants. His fingers fumble with the zipper as he pulls it down, doing his best to be patient and only partially succeeding. Then he backs off and helps Asahi out of the offending garment, tossing them to the floor where they belong. Once they’re gone, Asahi takes his shirt off and pulls Ikuya back down. Their kisses take on a desperate edge again as Ikuya’s hips move insistently, a tease of what being inside him would be like - and if the way Asahi pushes up to meet him is any indication, he wants the real thing as bad as Ikuya.Soon Ikuya leaves Asahi’s mouth and slides down his body until he’s eye level with the waistband of his underwear. “Is this alright?” he asks, nuzzling Asahi’s growing arousal.“You don’t have to,” Asahi says, though he looks like he wants nothing more than to say yes.“I know. I want to.” Badly. And if memory serves, he used to be one of the best.Asahi runs a hand through Ikuya’s hair. “Then yeah. It’s alright.”With Asahi’s consent, Ikuya pulls his underwear off and throws them over his shoulder. He takes the length in his hand and strokes slowly, smiling when he hears Asahi’s sharp intake of breath from above. Then he takes the head in his mouth, sucking gently and lapping at the precome beaded at the tip.Asahi pushes himself up to watch. “Fuck,” he moans as Ikuya hollows his cheeks and sinks down, massaging the base with his hand. Gradually, he takes more in, relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose. Asahi’s breath starts coming in little hiccups as he tries not to move his hips. Ikuya pulls out all the stops, encouraged by the broken sounds and curses spilling from Asahi’s mouth. “Shit, you’re good at - ah - you’re good at this.” Emboldened by the praise, he swallows him all the way down with a pleased hum, winning a low, helpless groan of his name for his efforts. “Ikuya, I - ” Suddenly there’s a hand on his cheek, and Asahi is gasping, “Wait, wait.”“What’s wrong?” Ikuya asks once he’s pulled off, afraid he’s done something wrong.“Nothing,” Asahi pants as he helps Ikuya up. “There’s such a thing as too good.”A delighted smile spreads across Ikuya’s face. “Still got it.”Asahi laughs breathlessly. “That night at Rin and Haru’s was fucking awful, but you better believe I remembered that.” Then he playfully flips them over and moves his attention to Ikuya’s neck. “Best thirty-second break from a panic attack I’ve ever had.”Ikuya threads his fingers through Asahi’s hair and rubs his shoulders. “I - ” he gasps when Asahi bites the junction between his neck and shoulder “ - I think truth or drink will be a little easier next time.”He feels Asahi’s smile on his skin as he kisses up the side of his neck. “Maybe we’ll even drink.” Once he’s reached Ikuya’s ear, he leans back. “Let’s get you out of this.” He helps Ikuya out of his shirt and disposes of it much like everything else - like it’s his arch-nemesis.Then, like he’s making sure Ikuya’s really here, he brushes his fingertips across his body - shoulders, chest, stomach, hips, down his legs, and back up the inside of his thighs. Ikuya basks in how sweet his touch is, how careful and caring. His body rises and falls in time with his breathing as Asahi’s mouth follows the same path, slow and worshipful in a way he hasn’t experienced with anyone else. When he reaches the last flimsy barrier separating them, Ikuya lifts his hips, encouraging Asahi to leave nothing between them.“Can I?” Asahi asks, hooking two fingers below the waistband of his underwear.“Please.”As he pulls them off, Asahi kisses his thighs, the inside of his knees, his calves, and his ankles, all with a quiet, reverent air about him. Ikuya spreads his legs so Asahi’s mouth can reach all the places Ikuya can’t see but feels so vividly, like his body is lit up from the inside, soaking in Asahi’s sunshine.“Asahi,” he whimpers as Asahi sucks bruises into his skin.Moving from his thighs to his ass, Asahi leaves soft licks, kisses, and bites, an exploration and discovery. Then he feels warm breath against his entrance, a pleasant and unexpected sensation. A small, surprised sound escapes him as Asahi’s tongue slowly circles the area, lapping at the skin.Applying only the slightest pressure, he probes at Ikuya’s entrance. Long, slow strokes of his tongue make the sensitive, tightly packed nerve endings light up while relaxing him enough for Asahi to carefully push farther inside him. Ikuya’s eyes fall closed as a string of moans falls from his mouth.“Asahi.”Asahi groans in response, a vibration Ikuya feels inside him. Fingertips stroke the back of his thighs, creating a delicious, shivery sensation as he alternates between wet, warm kisses around his entrance and using his tongue to open him up and thrust deeper.Ikuya doesn’t understand how anything could possibly feel this good. It’s so painfully, shamelessly vulnerable, allowing someone in like this, and he never wants it to end. Asahi really is as good as he’d heard. No - he’s so much better. Under no circumstances will he allow himself to think about who was spreading that information, which should never have been shared in the first place. There will also be no thinking about why Asahi is so good, and where he learned it all. This is Ikuya’s. This is their moment with nothing and no one between them. It’s only the two of them here in this bed, and it’s Asahi between Ikuya’s legs, giving him everything he’s never had.“Please,” he begs, back arching up off the bed and fingers grasping at sheets, blankets, and nothing at all. “Please.”Asahi answers his plea and and kisses his way back up his body, leaving Ikuya with memories of absolute heaven and anticipation of more. The undisguised hunger in Asahi’s eyes when he looks at him mirrors his own, as does the undercurrent of overwhelming emotion.“You okay?” Asahi asks.“Yeah. Just the last person I - ” he stops, unwilling to bring him into this bed “ - I haven’t wanted anyone in a really long time. And I don’t think - never like this.”“Me neither.” Asahi pushes his hair back from his face. “This is so - there’s just no comparison.” Even in the wake of Ikuya’s confession, he still wavers. “What do you want?”Not who, what. “What do you think?” It’s clearly not a sufficient answer for Asahi, who waits for explicit instruction and permission. “I want you to fuck me. Like you love me? I refuse to say ‘make love,’ so don’t you dare make me.”Despite the intensity of the moment, Asahi laughs. “Loud and clear. But just to confirm, you want me to make lov - kidding, kidding!” Then he dips down and captures Ikuya’s lips in a quick kiss. “Yeah, I can do that.”Within five never-ending seconds, he has lube in his hands, warming it between his fingers as Ikuya waits with breathless impatience. The first finger is a careful, gentle push. Ikuya’s breath travels through his body, relaxing him enough to grant entry the way he wants. Asahi is so concentrated, studying Ikuya’s face like he’s learning what he likes and committing it to memory.“Fuck,” he breathes as Asahi adds another. Two fingers move deep inside him, touching places that have Ikuya twisting on the bed and proving Asahi to be a quick study in his body. “More,” he moans and pushes down, fucking himself on Asahi’s fingers. He whines as a third finger joins the others, legs quivering as Asahi works him open. Through the haze of his pleasure, he watches Asahi, following every shift of muscle and minute change in expression. The patience in Asahi’s movements is at odds with the desperation in his eyes, like he’s falling apart.“I’ve imagined you like this so many times.”Ikuya’s imagined Asahi like this plenty of times since they reconnected, but he’d never allowed himself to in his twenties. His anger and hurt ran so deep that he’d rejected any and all fantasies as though they were radioactive. Then there was London, where he was busy doing everything he couldn’t back home - experimenting and discovering himself with all kinds of people. Asahi was the farthest thing from his mind during those years. But for all his myriad gifts, Asahi’s only ever been with one person. No matter how badly he was hurting Ikuya, picturing him imagining Ikuya while doing everything he could to love someone else still makes him sad.“Come here,” he beckons. “Be with me.”Though he feels Asahi’s absence inside him, what he wants more is to welcome him into his arms. Asahi comes to him, and Ikuya holds him close. “I’m here,” he murmurs as he showers Asahi with gentle kisses. “I’m right here.” Asahi shakes slightly, apparently determined not to give himself away despite his tears on Ikuya’s skin and their salty taste on his lips. Once he’s calmed down, Ikuya asks, “Now, are you going to fuck me like you love me or not?”“I thought you’d never ask.”Another agonizing thirty seconds later, Ikuya’s got his leg hooked over Asahi’s thigh, encouraging him to fuck him like he loves him already. His neediness is rewarded as Asahi eases inside, finally giving Ikuya what he needs.Their push and pull is incredible - intentional but not slow, exhilarating but unrushed. Traded kisses become shuddering breaths and moans, intensified when Asahi bends Ikuya’s knee and pushes it toward him so he can go deeper. Ikuya might be embarrassed by his loud keening noises if Asahi wasn’t fucking him like he has something to prove.“Don’t stop,” he begs needlessly, as if Asahi would actually stop, as if his sounds of pleasure were something he’d willingly give up. Instead, he reaches down and wraps his hand around Ikuya’s length, coaxing out loud moans with firm strokes in time with his thrusts.Ikuya loses himself, head thrown back against the pillow and nails raking down Asahi’s back. Coming like this would be transcendent - and Asahi would have done all the work. Though it goes against his plea from only moments ago, he pulls himself together and says, “Wait, stop, stop.”
Asahi stops and pulls out, worry flooding his flushed face. “Are you okay?”“Yeah,” Ikuya assures him as he tries to catch his breath. “Just - I’m here with you.” With somewhat sluggish movements, he guides Asahi onto his back and straddles him again. “Let me do this for you.” Then he lowers himself until he’s full, while Asahi looks up at him, awestruck. He bends forward and starts pushing back on him, moving his hips in languid circles. “Relax,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”Watching Asahi come apart beneath him is a singular kind of high. He paints such a beautiful picture, all groans and ragged breathing and never-extinguished light spilling from his whole being. “Fuck, Ikuya,” he pants as Ikuya rides him right to the edge, giving him what he knows he needs. “I’m close.” But he’s unwilling to let Ikuya do all the work until the end - he starts fucking up into him, meeting him where he is until Ikuya’s nearly gone as well.This is how it ought to be. Asahi is giving Ikuya what he’s asking for, and Ikuya is giving Asahi what he’s asking for, and it’s the two of them in a give and take so exquisite Ikuya's sure he’ll drown in it. They breathe together, and it takes his breath away. They’re not one, and never could be, never should be, but two, filling up the empty spaces in one another.Asahi comes first, pulsing inside him and clinging to him as he rides out his climax, his moans ringing in Ikuya’s ears. Ikuya helps him through it until he’s gone limp, then goes to finish himself off - but even in his post-orgasmic haze, Asahi is having none of it. He pulls Ikuya’s hand away and brings him there himself, right up until the heat coiled tight inside him spills over and he comes, his whole body shaking as he cries Asahi’s name.Once it’s over, they lay there catching their breath. Ikuya rests his head on Asahi’s chest, blissed out and satisfied in a way he never thought he could be. After a few minutes, Asahi takes his scarred hand and kisses it with a nearly inaudible “Perfect.”Ikuya is far from perfect. Ikuya is anything but perfect, and could never be perfect for anyone. There’s no such thing, and even if there were, perfection isn’t a burden he’d ever want to bear. But perfect means something different to everyone, and if who he is right now is perfect in Asahi’s eyes - he can live with that.So he doesn’t argue or push back. A silent “I love you” mouthed against Asahi’s skin is both truth and acceptance.When Asahi first told him this was a place to belong, he never imagined one day they’d be here - that one day he’d be here, belonging anywhere and everywhere in Asahi’s space. Asahi’s fostered in him a terrible addiction to belonging - and if this is the natural conclusion of his addiction?Consider him in permanent relapse.After showering, Ikuya leaves Asahi in the bathroom while he brushes his teeth, telling him he’ll use the spare toothbrush once he’s done. No matter how much he loves him - and god, does he ever - first sleepover tooth brushing sessions are so wildly unsexy, and Ikuya won’t budge on that.Next time? All bets are off.Now that the emotional overdrive of the day is settling, Ikuya is finally able to look around the room he’s only seen through a screen. Of course, there’s the bed, which Ikuya intends to spend a whole lot of time in. Sleeping is so much easier with Asahi there. Oh, and the sex isn’t half bad either. Now that he’s gotten up close and personal with the bed, he wants to take in everything else.Up close, the colors of Asahi’s room are even more wonderfully mismatched. They work perfectly together. The room is incredibly clean. Ikuya doesn’t know why he’s so surprised - the whole apartment is clean. People change. Lord knows they both have. Since the drawers and closet door are closed, he’s left to wonder if Asahi’s clothes folding and hanging skills have improved in the last ten years. Nothing he wears is hopelessly wrinkled, so…fingers crossed?Books on the history of swimming line a small bookcase, as much global as Japan’s own storied history in the sport. The unoccupied shelf space is stuffed with comic books, which makes Ikuya smile. Some things never change.There’s a display case in the corner with Asahi’s impressive array of medals from his swimming career. Why is it in here? The placement of it makes it look like Asahi didn’t care where it went, so long as it wasn’t out in the living room where it ought to be. Maybe Ikuya can convince him to move it. Maybe Ikuya should take his own advice and show off his own medals.They’re a work in progress.Asahi’s desk is free of clutter, but not character. A legal pad covered with work notes and what Ikuya suspects are daily on-the-job doodles sits next to the laptop he’d glimpsed during their video call. A now-vintage Rat’s Life bobblehead gazes forlornly upon the room, conveying David’s tragedy to anyone who dares to come close.Then there are the framed photos Ikuya couldn’t make out over the phone, not quite as many as he thought. A photo of the Shiina family from Asahi’s post-Iwatobi middle school days showcases a typically overexcited Asahi with dirt on his nose. His family probably didn’t even bother telling him. Ikuya never did. Next to it is a picture from the day Tsukushi was born. Asahi sits next to Akane’s hospital bed, looking at his nephew like he’s some kind of miracle, while Akane watches with a contented smile.The third and final photo takes his breath away.Too overcome to cry, he picks the frame up for a closer look, convinced it couldn’t possibly be what it so clearly is. Asahi beams up at him - no, his sunny smile is directed at another Ikuya. That Ikuya, aged nineteen years old, is laughing and leaning against Asahi, who has Ikuya’s very first bronze medal held up, proudly displayed for the camera. These versions of them have no idea what’s to come, or that they’re teetering on the edge of the end.They were friends once. The picture in Ikuya’s hand is proof of another brief, golden moment together before life sent them careening in opposite directions while keeping them inescapably tied to one another.They loved each other then. They love each other now. Everything and nothing is the same, and while they’ll never be as luminous as the kids they were in Fukuoka, they don’t need to be.“Your turn!” Asahi yells from the bathroom. “I’m done being unsexy!”Ikuya presses two fingers to his lips and brushes them over the glass, wishing their past selves all the luck in the world.“Coming!”They’ll be okay.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Learning to live - fully live - is a challenge.Fortunately for Ikuya, he's never been more ready to face it head-on. For him, living fully begins with a full life. Thanks to the love and support he’s received in the last six months, his life is full to bursting.And no one has given him more than his brother.“I wonder if I’ll cry less from now on,” Ikuya muses as he peels pieces of pepperoni off his slice and eats them like the man-child he is. “I don’t think there’s any moisture left in me.”“Please. If you can go one day without crying, I’ll give you my life’s savings.”“Prepare to be poor.”Pizza is now a weekly tradition. This is their sacred Kirishima brother time, consuming all eight slices of grease and regret in one sitting and enjoying each other’s company. Ikuya learned the hard way that his brother is not fucking around when he says no mushrooms, even as a prank. Convincing him to stay was a harrowing experience.“I can’t wait until we all go clubbing again and I have to avoid you two because I’d rather die than see whatever nasty shit you get up to.”“We do not get up to nasty shit!” Ikuya complains. “I’m a classy broad.”“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.” He waggles his eyebrows like he’s already failed to avoid them on the dance floor. “I’m so relieved I don’t have to listen to Asahi cry into his beer about you anymore.”Oh. Oh. Did his piece of shit brother know this whole time? Of fucking course he did. On the other side of the door was a series of drunk therapy sessions, which he could have guessed from the start if he weren’t so committed to not knowing. Still, if he were to do it all over again, he doesn’t think he’d do anything different. Actually, he’d do everything differently, but not that.“I’m afraid to ask if you guys are going to keep going on dates.”“Of course we are,” his brother informs him. “He’s the love of my life. Jokes aside, I’m really relieved the next group hang won’t end with you and Asahi heartbroken,” his brother says.“Yeah…I’m sorry about that.”His brother rolls his eyes and ruffles his hair, leaving it an unsalvageable mess. “I don’t mean it like that. I mean it’s terrible seeing you hurt over something I can’t help fix.”“Are you kidding? You’ve done more than enough.”“Have I?” his brother wonders. “I didn’t do anywhere near enough to get you out of there.” No, please don’t cry, please don’t cry, Ikuya’s going to break his streak five minutes in. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for failing you like that.”“You saved my life,” he says. “And not only because you showed up when you did. Aniki - ” fuck, there goes all that money he stood to earn “ - you’ve been my only constant in the last ten years. I’ve gotten through every awful second because of you. You don’t have to fix me. You saved me.” He ruffles his brother’s hair, though it’s less effective since it’s always an unsalvageable mess. “I’d say don’t tell Asahi, but he already knows - you’re my most important person.” Without waiting for an answer, he sets his pizza down and pulls his brother into a hug. “Thank you.”They might as well trade life savings if they’re both going to cry like this.“You’re my most important person too, kid,” his brother sniffs. “You don’t need to thank me for doing what I love. I’ll be here for the next seventy years too, if I don’t die of alcohol poisoning.”“I think you may have already died of alcohol poisoning. Several times.”“And I’ll keep coming back to life until all the alcohol in the world runs out.”“So you’re immortal.” The pizza will get cold if they keep this up, which is something neither of them can abide by, so they let each other go and rescue their beloved junk. “Love you, Aniki,” he says, holding his pizza up in a greasy toast.“Love you too, buddy.”They tap their slices together, because fear of germs is for the weak.“Can I still have your life savings?”“No can do. Beer won’t buy itself.”Around Christmas, ‘never’ becomes ‘now’ when Ikuya finally works up the courage to take his brother up on a well-meaning suggestion he once made.Talking about what happened to him to a person whose job it is to listen and help does make him feel sick. Diving into it and picking it apart on a weekly basis is fucking unbearable. But speaking it out loud over and over - even the seemingly small, inconsequential parts - chips away and robs it of some of its power. Still, every session leaves him wrung out and exhausted, and likely will for years to come.Asahi picks him up after every appointment.“Hey!”“Hey.” Asahi’s Tuesday night hugs are the best. His hugs are always the best, but Tuesday nights are when Ikuya needs them most. “Can I stay over tonight?”“I told you, you don’t need to ask,” Asahi reminds him, like he always does. “You can stay over even if I’m not there. That’s what the key’s for.”Being given the key to Asahi’s place was a shock, and not an unpleasant one. Riding a wave of intense emotion, he’d accepted it without a second thought. Actually using it has been a different story. There’s nothing Ikuya loves more than belonging, but key or no key, opening and entering Asahi’s home without his express permission feels like intruding. His trepidation is rooted in fear and all those months of protecting his own space from anyone and anything unwelcome. He knows that. He also knows Asahi’s not lying when he says Ikuya should use it anytime. He’ll get comfortable with it eventually, hopefully sooner rather than later.“Okay. Thanks.” They both know he’ll still ask next time. “Let’s go get ramen.”“You read my mind.”Asahi never asks about his sessions. The only time he does is if Ikuya brings it up, and even then he doesn’t dig. When Ikuya’s ready to drop it, he drops it too. They do talk about it, though, and when they do, it’s divorced from Ikuya’s work and specific to them. Those conversations, conversations about Asahi’s marriage, and conversations about their shared history happen because they’re all part of who they were and are, and while they’ll both move on, they’ll always have happened.He used to think the only way to move on was by sharing his story with everyone. Now he understands that moving on doesn’t require him to bare his soul and sadness to every single one of his friends. He gets to choose who to share it with, and that’s a small, big thing he has control over. That in and of itself is its own kind of power.The only other person he cares to share it with is his brother. When he finally does, it’s as difficult as he expected, heart-wrenching and life-savings-emptying on both sides. It’s also very, very good for them both.The less peanut butter, the better.Returning to work and restarting classes after an extended hiatus from nothing isn’t nearly as hard as he feared.For some reason he cannot possibly fathom, everyone is happy to see him. Apart from the occasional polite greeting, he knows approximately none of them. Still, it’s always nice to feel like he belongs. Rin is predictably thrilled to have him back, though he grills Ikuya about his sleep, health, and overall wellness before allowing him in the building.Ideas come to him in fits and starts as classes go on. The first is one Rin could and should have thought of on his own. Since he didn’t, Ikuya leaves a note on his desk while he’s in a meeting, eloquent and meticulously worded like the aspiring brand manager he is.
how are sakura petals not in your logo you fucking dumbass
The note he finds on his desk the next day makes his blood run cold.
can’t wait to see what you and the team come up with mermaid princess fuckface
Touché.Concepts flow more freely after that particular stroke of genius.“Why is working together not part of your image?” he asks one night as they’re walking to the train. “The whole ‘for the team’ thing is everything to you and Haru. Your whole thing should be about bringing people together to see and experience things they can’t by themselves. Fuck if your ‘for the team’ catchphrase isn’t the whole mission statement.”Rin stops in his tracks. “Holy shit, you’re right. See?” he whoops, pounding a confused Ikuya on the back. “I knew you were a sure thing!”“I’m just spitballing,” Ikuya deflects. “It might be nothing.”“Nah,” Rin says, “if this is you in school, this time next year you’ll be unstoppable.”“Thanks.” From his lips to god’s ears. “So,” he changes subjects to back away from his ongoing, complicated relationship with flattery, “what time is the shoot tomorrow?”“Ten. You don’t have to keep doing them if you don’t want to, by the way.”“No, I want to.” There are a few brands he’s rekindled his relationship with - not with the intention of getting back into modeling in a big way, but in hopes of making a quiet statement. “Actually, can you not photoshop my scars out this time?”Ikuya has never seen so many of Rin’s teeth in one smile.“Badass.”No matter how hard he tries, Ikuya never feels quite at home in his apartment.It’s kept him safe, he’ll give it that. That was its intended purpose when he chose it, and it’s done its job beautifully. And there have been bright spots - he cherishes all the time he and his brother spent there, even if most of it was his brother picking him up every time he fell. It’s also where he and Asahi first truly reconnected.But almost all the time he spent there those first six months was in abject misery. The sleepless nights, terrible dreams, depressive episodes, heartbreak, and his spiral down trauma memory lane all live here with him, and he can’t live with ghosts anymore. This place will keep part of him forever frozen.Four months after he and Asahi start dating, Ikuya makes a decision.One frigid night in February, they’re huddled in a long-overdue pillow fort in Asahi’s living room. The construction is slipshod at best, but it accommodates two fully grown adults with flashlights, and that’s what truly matters.“…and they say she haunts the Tokyo aquatics center to this day,” Asahi finishes, flashlight under his chin for maximum spooky effect.“Isn’t Katie Ledecky alive?”Asahi shines his flashlight in Ikuya’s face. “Don’t ruin my scary story with facts!”“Sorry, sorry. Ten out of ten. Terrifying.”“Better.”“Okay,” Ikuya says. “My turn.” Asahi hands the flashlight to him. “There’s nothing scarier than moving, right?”“Right,” Asahi confirms, if only for the sake of being a good audience.“You have to find a place, pack, make sure the movers don’t break everything you own - and that’s all before you’ve even had a chance to find out if it’s haunted.”“And they’re always haunted.”“Exactly. So when I move, you have to help me do an exorcism on whatever haunted building I end up in.”“Wait,” Asahi says, “so you’re moving?”“Um. Yeah. I feel like my place is holding me back, you know?” The enthusiasm he was expecting in response is nowhere to be found. Instead, his roundabout admission is met with a strangely anxious silence. “I don’t mean moving farther away from you,” he says, suddenly anxious himself. More silence. “It just doesn’t feel like home, and I need a home. You get that, right?” The longer he talks, the deeper the hole he’s digging feels. “Is it a bad idea? I guess I don’t need to. I just thought - ”“Why don’t you move in with me?”Ikuya’s ability to process words as full sentences screeches to a halt.“I was going to wait,” Asahi explains nervously, “but moving twice sounds - not that I’m expecting you to - or we could just get a whole new place?” he suggests, starting to sound downright frantic. “No, never mind. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”That speeds Ikuya’s brain right back up.“You want me to move in? Here?” he asks. “As in…live with you?”“Yeah? It’s too soon, I know. When you said you were moving my mind went straight to logistics and overexcited at the same time. I shouldn’t even be thinking about logistics, right? Not before I asked - it’s stupid.” If Ikuya weren’t processing his proposal at the speed of light, he’d be thinking how cute Asahi is right now. “I’ll definitely help you find a new place.”“No!” he exclaims as he finally grasps what’s happening, and - holy shit? “You just took me way by surprise, that’s all. Is that really what you want? You want me here all the time?”“Do I need to give you a hundred keys to convince you? Yes, I want you here all the time!”Thoughts of how fast he’d moved with Alex and all the warnings he’d ignored threaten to intrude on the moment. Would his brother give him the same warning now as he did then? No. Ikuya knows he wouldn’t. This isn’t anywhere near the same. The decision doesn’t come without concerns, but for once, they’re not about him.“But you finally got to decorate the way you want. How would you feel about sharing that again?”“I’d feel fucking fantastic,” Asahi declares with all the confidence in the world. “We can make it ours. If you want to?”Giddiness fizzes in Ikuya’s stomach. Nowhere has genuinely felt like home in years. Nowhere but here. Suddenly here is no longer content to feel like home - here wants to be home. Here and Ikuya have that in common. Leaning forward and cupping Asahi’s face, he says, “Yeah. Yes. I want to move in with you.”“Seriously?” Asahi cries. “For real?”“Do I need to make a hundred copies of your key to convince you?”The tackle hug Ikuya saw coming a mile away knocks down their pillow fort, and he couldn’t care less.“Best scary story ever,” Asahi says between the world’s happiest kisses. “Trillion out of ten.”Tsukushi is officially in his ‘embarrassed and offended by my family’s existence’ stage, and Asahi is number one on his shit list.“Why does he want me dead?”Akane stares blankly at him while Ikuya does his best not to burst out laughing. “Why do you think, genius?”The preteen of the hour appears before Asahi can respond and presents Ikuya with a coffee he didn’t order. “Hi, Ikuya.”“Hi, Tsukushi,” he replies, indulging the preteen terror with a kind smile. “Thank you, this is my favorite.” Ever since Tsukushi got wind of Ikuya’s favorite flavor, he’s become a little barista whose only specialty is an admittedly excellent pistachio cappuccino.“Yeah, I know,” Tsukushi says. “That’s why I made it.”Poor Asahi chooses the wrong moment to speak up. “Hey, kid. What’s up?”If looks could kill, Asahi would be six feet under and fully decomposed. “I bet you didn’t even know that was his favorite,” he accuses his bewildered uncle before stalking off into the back - after giving Ikuya one more starry-eyed, lovestruck smile, of course.There’s no way Asahi could possibly still be confused, yet here he is, dissolving into a puddle of question marks. “Why?”Akane shoots Ikuya a look. “Let’s never tell him.”“Tell me what?”A few weeks after his thirty-first birthday, Ikuya moves in with Asahi.While he’s stayed there so many times he’s stopped counting, living in Asahi’s - their - place takes some getting used to.It has nothing to do with Asahi, who accommodates the living shit out of him. The space is warm, bright, welcoming, and incorporates Ikuya’s aesthetic without sacrificing Asahi’s. It does take some work for Ikuya to convince Asahi he doesn’t need to sacrifice his. Old habits die hard. They both have their own hangups around their competitive careers and unceremonious retirements, so putting their medals out in the open is a task they have to work their way up to. When they finally do, proof of their success and the sport that brought them together takes up two shelves of the bookcase in the living room, on display but not in your face.Their living styles are very much in sync, so there’s little to no friction. It’s not awkward. On the contrary - living with Asahi is fun. Easy. Ikuya loves coming home to him at the end of the day, and loves lazy weekend mornings even more.They resume the cooking lessons they’d abandoned months ago, with varying degrees of success. Ikuya sets off the fire alarm more than he cares to admit, produces absolute atrocities that destroy their taste buds - and sometimes, he gets it right. Those times are few and far between, but when they do happen, it’s cause for celebration.What takes some getting used to is calling it home. His home. Their home. Calling anything home almost seems like he’s jinxing it, even if everything about it is home. Asahi, his brother, and their friends constantly correct him when he accidentally calls it Asahi’s apartment.Home, home, home. This is their home.To make it official, they throw a housewarming party. Asahi makes food, Ikuya burns food and is put in charge of drinks instead, and together they end up eating half the chips and dip before anyone even gets there. No one is the wiser, as half their friends bring chips and dip anyway. The other half bring booze. Scratch that - they all bring booze.“Place looks great,” his brother says when he arrives.“Aniki, you’ve been here at least thirty times.”“You never should have given me a key.”Ikuya almost tells him it was for emergencies only, but he’d be a filthy liar if he did. “So should I be making up the guest room?” he asks, moving his focus to the four bags of liquid poison in his brother’s hands.“I assumed you already did.”…he did.“I think you brought as much as my brother,” Ikuya tells Nagisa, who arrives shortly after carrying his body weight in hard liquor. “Did you rob a liquor store?”“I don’t kiss and tell, Iku-chan!” Nagisa proclaims.Ikuya doesn’t know what that means, and that’s probably for the best. “No further questions.”Polite mingling isn’t this group’s forte, so the compliments he and Asahi get about how much they love what they’ve done with the apartment are genuine and specific to them. It’s nice realizing just how well people know him. A year ago, he wouldn’t even tell them he was alive, never mind allow them within a mile of his building. Now he’s welcoming them into his - their - home, a home instantly recognizable as his. Theirs.Once everyone’s arrived and been sufficiently fed and watered like the animals they are, Rei assumes the role of world’s most dangerous bartender. “Spritzer?” he offers Ikuya, addressing him like he’s the maître’d at a Michelin-star restaurant.“Please.”“You’re secretly a sixty-year-old American woman,” Rin mocks him.Ikuya accepts the dangerously close-to-overflowing glass from Rei. “If I am, then I have the best plastic surgeon in the world.”Frighteningly strong drinks are passed around and thrown back with the abandon of people with no sense of self-preservation. The absolute hell they’re in for tomorrow morning is a problem for their future selves. Only his brother’s drinking will have no repercussions, and he will have drank the most by far. Two drinks in, Rei announces the bigger, better sequel to the drinking game that backfired so spectacularly the first time around.“Truth or drink!”Nagisa leaps to his feet and gives him a standing ovation. “Perfect, Rei-chan!”The rules are the same as last time, with the addendum that there will be no do-overs. Neither Rei nor Nagisa know why a do-over was asked for last time in the first place, and no one has the heart to tell them.A dull buzz of leftover anxiety from that night thrums beneath Ikuya’s skin, not abating until Asahi throws an arm over his shoulder and murmurs, “We’re so not fucked this time,” startling a surprised laugh out of him.To no one’s surprise, Nagisa insists on going first. “Mako-chan!” he yells in the direction of his former captain. “Let’s settle this once and for all.” The way he rubs his hands together is sinister beyond belief. “Who bottoms, you or Sou-chan?”One minute and one flustered, tomato-red Makoto later, cheers and high-fives fill the room, their collective theory now a reality.After that monumental icebreaker, questions and drinks flow freely. Following Nagisa’s lead, they skip the softballs and demand only the dirtiest and most humiliating truths. Notorious lightweight Rei gives the whole outraged prude thing a go, but falls apart halfway through drink three and becomes more adamant about digging up the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth than Nagisa.“Asahi-senpai!” He points at Asahi, Ace Attorney style. “Is Ikuya-senpai really as good as he says he is at - ”Before he can finish, his brother gets up and walks right out of the room. “Bye.”“So?” Rei looks like he’s either going to keel over drunk or start writing equations on a blackboard if he doesn’t get an answer within the next two seconds.Asahi rolls his eyes and downs a shot to pay for his silence at the same time as Ikuya says, “Yes.”Asahi chokes on his drink. “That question wasn’t for you!”“What? I am.”“I know you are! I’m defending your honor!”Rin is gagging, Nagisa is on the verge of doing cartwheels, and Haru?“Congratulations, Ikuya.”Haru is being Haru.Since everyone is dead set on getting as many details about his and Asahi’s sex life as they can, Ikuya’s poor brother is forced to leave the room approximately once every five minutes. Questions that aren’t even for them are carefully designed to somehow put them and their extracurriculars in the spotlight. He worries that Asahi’s impulse to drink instead of answer when he’s not the one being asked will send him to an early grave.“I saw your zodiac Kama Sutra book, Iku-chan,” Rin smirks. “You really just left that shit in plain sight?”“I bought that,” Asahi answers for him, finally giving in to the relentless assault on his life and liver. “…and left it in plain sight.”Ikuya pats his knee. “The stars will never steer you wrong.”“They could steer me away from the bookcase next time.”As the night wears on, Ikuya watches their friends laugh, drink, act like they’re still in college, and exist together in a way they haven’t since they were much younger. There are no future fiancés or fractured friendships, and no need for anyone to tend to the tension between their estranged friends on opposite sides of the room. This is something Ikuya and his estranged friend built together, a place where everyone can relax and be happy.People start heading out around midnight. Hugs are exchanged, and further congratulations on their new adventure together are given as they say their farewells with the promise of more game nights - game used in the loosest sense of the word - to come. Despite his earlier assertion that he’d be commandeering the guest room, his brother stumbles out the door as well. Ikuya would ask him if he’s okay getting home on his own if he didn’t know his brother had infinite lives.Asahi hugs him as soon as his brother wobbles off to whatever bar is next. “That was awesome.”“We did good.” He looks around, disregarding the mess they’ll wait until tomorrow to clean up. “With everything.”“We did. Except maybe my choice of coffee table reading.”“They’re just jealous. In fact - ” he kisses Asahi, all sweetness and suggestion “ - why don’t we go make them jealous right now?”Asahi instantly brightens times ten and lets him go long enough to grab the light reading he left in plain sight. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”“Taurus?”“I love sharing a brain cell with you.”This is their home.And home means never having to say you’re sorry for leaving the zodiac Kama Sutra in plain sight.The year Ikuya turns thirty-one, everything changes.Again.Summer comes and goes in a blur of work, school, friends, and family. Autumn is there before he knows it, replacing sweltering nights with brisk air and changing leaves. This is Ikuya’s favorite season. He’ll always associate Autumn with new beginnings, however painfully achieved. Confidences, confessions, and forgiveness spilled from him this time last year - and look where he is now.
Thirty-one is hardly old. But even though he’s regained so much of the vitality and youth he lost, he can never quite shake the feeling of having lived well beyond his years. Maybe it’s why he loves Autumn so much. It’s the time of year when the world is at once vibrant and old, both joyful and melancholy.Then there are the less existential, more worldly pleasures. Though he’s now a hermit in name only, he’s still very much a homebody, as is Asahi, and chilly Autumn nights are the perfect excuse to stay in. One Saturday in October finds them homebodying to the extreme - they’ve got blankets, fuzzy socks Asahi insisted on buying because their purple cat print reminded him of Ikuya, and a long-awaited update on their favorite dearly departed crabs.“Wait, I got something,” Asahi says before Ikuya hits play. “Be right back.”The sound of clinking glass comes from the kitchen as Asahi rummages around in the fridge. A year and change is slightly less than nineteen, but still, it’s been a while since Ikuya heard that sound. Asahi looks so proud of himself when he comes back with two bottles of Ramune, like he really is a genius. And in some ways, he is.“Watching this without these felt like a crime against us and crabs,” he explains.Ikuya takes his and tilts it to one side, then the other, watching the marble move about the cabin. His own lucky marble came with him in the move. Since he no longer needs it under his pillow now that he has the real thing next to him every night, he’s found it a new secret home. Asahi hasn’t noticed it sitting behind Ikuya’s first-ever medal from Fukuoka, and Ikuya doubts he ever will.But his war with Ramune is far from over. “Think we’ll get it this time?”“We have to,” Asahi answers. “The rest of our lives depend on it.”“Sounds dire.”“You have no idea.”God, he saddled himself with a weird one. Good thing he’s just as weird.They pop open the Ramune and press play on part two of the greatest love story never told. The narrator treats them to a ‘previously on’ that has nothing to do with what they know to be the true version of events, which were far more grisly and tragic than the voice-over would have them believe.“They’ve been reincarnated,” Ikuya tells Asahi, pointing at the two crabs ambling into frame. “You can see it in their eyes.” Both crabs are headed toward the same deceased starfish. “Oh no.”“They won’t fight this time. They know better now.”They do not know better.Like their last meeting, they immediately lock themselves in battle by way of lover’s embrace, agonizingly slow and so obviously hurtling toward ecstasy and ruin. It’s a thin, overdone trope, using mortal combat to build romantic and sexual tension, but fuck if it isn’t pure cinema.The pure nostalgia of the crabs, ramune, and the man beside him hits him twice over. Ikuya wonders what their middle school selves would think if they could see them now. Minus the crabs - or maybe not, based on how often they pushed each other face-first into the sea - they’re doing pretty much the exact same thing, give or take a million minor details that would throw past them into cardiac arrest.He doesn’t know when he first fell in love with Asahi. It hardly matters anymore, but he’d like to think it was back then, beachside with soda in hand and insults at the ready.“This can’t be happening again,” he moans when an octopus trundles onscreen. “There’s no way.” Nothing. “Asahi? You in there?”Asahi gives him a distracted “What?” before coming back from wherever he was. “Oh, yeah. Wait, can we rewind?”“Sure.”Asahi’s reaction to the octopus’ return is appropriately dramatic the second time around. “This is fucking unbelievable,” he scowls. “If they’re trapped in a time loop, I’m done.”“Looks like you’re done with something,” he replies, nodding to Asahi’s empty soda bottle. “I have some catching up to do.”There’s only around a third of the bottle left - just enough to cry into in case the worst happens. As the drama in front of them continues to play out, Asahi keeps sneaking what he must think are surreptitious glances at Ikuya’s dwindling Ramune. “Do you want some?” he offers. “You can kill it if you want.”“What? No, no,” Asahi is very quick to assure him. “I’m good.”“Suit yourself.”Asahi’s increasingly noticeable fidgeting is distracting. Not in a bad way, just odd - even for him. The program gives Asahi some competition when, in a shocking but welcome twist, the crabs abandon their clash over dinner, scurrying behind a rock to avoid becoming dinner. Who knew they could move so fast? Their slow-motion dance-fighting really was nautical foreplay. The day is saved, the crabs are free to live and love each other fiercely, and the antagonist leaves empty-tentacled.“Wait…so does that mean love wins?” Asahi asks, genuinely and adorably excited. “That’s so romantic. They had to die and be reborn and find each other again to get a happy ending, but they did it!”“You’re such a sap,” he teases, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Guess they learned from their mistakes.” He goes to take another sip of Ramune, only to realize it’s empty. “You beat me.”“No losers in this house.” So he says, but Ikuya knows his competitive streak all too well. “But I did beat you.” There it is. Asahi takes their Ramune-less bottles and examines what will hopefully be their crowning achievement. “Ready to get these fuckers out once and for all?”“I’ve been ready for twenty years.” Ikuya whips out his phone to Google methods that don’t involve exploding glass, but Asahi is way ahead of him.“I know exactly how to do it this time. And yes, before you ask, it’s safe.”Ikuya hums in response. “You’re the genius,” is how he chooses to flatter his determined boyfriend.The way Asahi steels himself is a bit much considering their mission. “You’re damn right I am. Give me a few minutes.”A few minutes end up being ten. By the time Asahi returns and hands him his bottle, Ikuya is burning with curiosity. “Are you sure you weren’t Googling in there?”“I would never!” Asahi plops down on the couch and produces a screwdriver from his pocket. Where screwdrivers belong, naturally. “There is no possible way to fuck this up.”“Bold statement.”“You first,” Asahi instructs and hands the screwdriver over. Ikuya accepts the offering and awaits further instructions. “See the dents in the cap?” he asks, nodding to the little notches all around the base of the cap. “You’re going to stick the screwdriver under there and use it as a lever.”That’s…actually a great idea. Simple. Maybe too simple. “Won’t that take forever?”“Maybe,” Asahi shrugs. “Won’t know until we try.”“What’s another twenty years?” They’ll be more pleasant than the last twenty, that’s for damn sure. So, with complete, single-minded focus, he digs the flathead into the space between the cap and bottle head and lifts. There’s shockingly little resistance. Within thirty seconds, the cap is halfway off. Seriously? Was this always the big secret? Why isn’t this common knowledge? “It’s working!”“Holy shit, look at you go!” Asahi cheers. “You’ve got this!”Realizing that he’s about to bring them full circle elicits a delighted laugh and an ecstatic emotional high. They’ve done it, and all it took was a flathead screwdriver and two decades’ worth of resolve. To be fair, said resolve was tested well past its breaking point - but who cares? As the lid pops off to the soundtrack of their joyous, celebratory shouts, Ikuya doesn’t have a single doubt that it was all worth it. They’re here now, aren’t they?“I can’t believe it,” he says, channeling Asahi’s light through his own smile. “I can’t fucking believe it.”“Best day ever.” Asahi admires the capless bottle, radiating restless, excited energy. “Come on, dump that bad boy out!”“What about you? Shouldn’t we do it at the same time?” They’re in this together, right?“Nah,” Asahi disagrees. “This is too major not to do it start to finish.”“Whatever you say.” All by his lonesome, he holds his hand face-up and overturns the bottle. The marble falls into his hand with a thud - “Huh?”- only it’s not a marble.There was a marble here before, he’d swear on his life there was. He must be going crazy, because in the palm of his hand is a delicate, jet-black circle. Etched into its surface are the sun, moon, and stars, subtle and captivating. This is - the couch dips as Asahi shifts beside him - it’s beautiful. It also very much does not belong in a bottle of Ramune. Rings don’t help seal in carbonation. They - oh.When he turns to look at Asahi, he’s not there. He’s not there because he’s in front of him, in front of the sofa, in front of Ikuya, and he’s down on - he’s down on one knee. Asahi is on one knee, eyes locked on Ikuya with a singular, breathless intensity he’s seen only once before.“So I may have lied about the bottle cap,” he says. The bottle cap is the farthest thing from Ikuya’s mind. “Sorry.” Ikuya’s eyes dart between the ring in his hand and the man he’s known for twenty years down on one knee in front of him. “Just hear me out.” Asahi clears his throat nervously before continuing. “When I was twelve, and we were doing this every day, I remember thinking I’d be happy if we could keep doing it every day, like, forever.”The meaning behind his words and the ring in his hand begins to crystallize. “Is this…?”“Just a minute,” Asahi says, “or I’ll never get this out. Or I’ll mess it up. Like I’m doing right now. Uh, anyway,” he goes on, “we obviously didn’t get to keep trying. Not for a really long time. Then when we finally had the chance to, I went and messed everything up.” This is what it sounds like, right? “Until last year. Even though my idea royally sucked, you were there, and we were actually doing it.”The enormity of where Asahi’s going with this is creeping up on him with more and more clarity. “It was fun,” is his underwhelming response, unable to shrink everything he’s feeling down into something more meaningful. “You held my hands.”“Yeah,” Asahi’s smile is small and so incredibly fond. “I did. And I’d do it again. I’d do it even if your hands weren’t shaking. I’d have done it every day if things had gone differently. We missed out on twenty years of that. But the one thing twelve-year-old me and thirty-two-year-old me have in common - okay, maybe we have more than one thing in common - ” even now, he manages to make Ikuya laugh “ - is I’d still be happy if we could keep doing this every day, like, forever.”This is really happening, isn’t it? “Is this really happening?” he asks anyway, because you never, ever know.“I hope so? Because trying to get the marble out of Ramune with you every day would be awesome, but it’s not all I want. I want to do everything with you every day. I want to do life with you every day. Like, forever.”Ikuya is openly weeping now, as is Asahi. What comes next is obvious - he’s seen it all a million times before. Twice, he’s even imagined it for himself, first with the least deserving person in the world, then with someone he could never have as a reprieve from the least deserving person in the world. What he could never have is now right in front of him, down on one knee and very much his. “I love you,” he says, helpless to think of anything else. “I love you.” Words never were his strong suit.“I love you too.” Asahi reaches for his hand and carefully takes the ring, watching closely for any hesitation. There is no hesitation. How could there be? “So I guess all that was my way of asking if you’ll do life with me and - ” his voice breaks, and it’s so, so sweet “ - if you’ll marry me?”This is happening.“I want that,” he answers through his tears, unable to get the words out fast enough. “I want to do life with you, baka Asahi. Until we’re both gone. Even after we’re gone. Yes, of course I’ll fucking marry you. I’d do it yesterday if I could.”Asahi’s smile could light up the whole world. “Shit, really?”“Really, really, really,” he says, laughing when Asahi punches the air. They’re laughing and crying and fuck, this is how it’s supposed to be. So when he takes his hand, all Ikuya can do is laugh, cry, and look on as Asahi slips the sun, moon, and stars onto his finger. “It’s so beautiful,” he breathes. “It’s perfect.” Almost. There’s one thing missing, perhaps the most important of all. “What about you?” They made it through hell to be here, and they did it together. “We’re - I want to do it too. There has to be something - ”“Uh, about that,” Asahi interrupts, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s dumb. I didn’t know if you’d say yes, and even if you did, which you did, which is insane - it’s still pretty lame.”“I’ll decide if it’s lame.” Ikuya has already decided it’s not lame. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.”Asahi waffles for another moment before throwing caution to the wind. “Fuck it.” Not at all gracefully - like Ikuya gives even one shit - Asahi shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out the absolute least lame solution to Ikuya’s problem. The second ring he’s produced tonight is the answer to Ikuya’s, an identical, bright gold band. “This is weird. It’s weird, right? I promise I didn’t spend more on - and I can always exchange them if it’s too couple-y.”“No,” he says. “Don’t you dare.” Treating them like the precious objects they are, he takes the ring and Asahi’s hand. “Thank you,” he begins, suddenly sure what he wants to say and how he wants to say it. “Thank you for making life fun. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for being who you are after all you’ve been through, and thank you for getting through it. Thank you for loving me,” he says, kissing Asahi gently before sliding the ring onto his finger. “And thank you for giving me the stars. I’ll give you the sun if you’ll let me.”“Yes. Obviously, yes. Let’s do another twenty years. Times ten.”“We’re going to live a long time, huh?”“A billion years of this? I’ll make sure we live that long.”
Ikuya can’t argue with math that solid.“A billion years is a good start.”Once upon a time, this happened in a planetarium.There were photos, videos, and a young couple Ikuya could only see through his phone as he cried his broken heart out for hours, curled up on the kitchen floor alone.Once upon a time, half of that young couple ran into him on the street, knocking Ikuya’s soba right out of his hands, hands he’d have done anything to hide.A year and a half later, half of that no longer young couple and the no longer twenty-five-year-old who cried his heart out on the kitchen floor are in their apartment - their home - pouring their hearts out to one another. There’s a ring on Ikuya’s finger, on the hand he’d have once done anything to hide.There isn’t a camera in sight. No one will ever know for sure what happened here - no one but them.For the rest of the night, they enjoy this moment that belongs to them alone, wrapped up in each other and the life they’ll spend together. They chase Ramune with champagne and toast to anything and everything, up to and including the crabs enjoying their own happy ending somewhere on the ocean floor.Unexpectedly, it’s Ikuya who suggests they share a picture.“Are you sure? You said you didn’t want any photos.”“It’s not only about me anymore, is it?” Ikuya counters. “Besides, wouldn’t it be fun to put it out there and ignore everyone until tomorrow?”Asahi’s doubt immediately becomes gleeful appreciation. “You’re so evil. I love your mind.”Within minutes, a picture of their hands goes up on Instagram, bearing a caption sure to infuriate their loved ones:
That’s all you get, bitches
As soon as Ikuya posts the picture to his brand-new account, both their phones begin to vibrate. Instead of checking their notifications, they mute their phones and put them away. Tomorrow will bring its own kind of joy, a shared joy Ikuya can’t wait to be part of.But tonight?“So are we doing Pisces and Aries to celebrate?”“I think that book is the best gift I ever got you.”Tonight will always be their little secret.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The small hotel hidden along the coastline is full of people. ‘Full’ is relative, as a small hotel can only hold so many. With their crowd of twenty-some-odd people, they’ve got the place to themselves.Everyone is gathered for dinner, celebrating and socializing and together. Ikuya is having the time of his life. Even so, the noise eventually becomes too much, so he excuses himself from the festivities for a breather in his room.It’s not the same room he and Asahi stayed in last time. The ocean view is the same, and so is the smell, but this one has one bed. He still thinks they should buy the place when they retire. Money is no object - not if they shoulder their way into the owner’s will.He lies down, closes his eyes, and begins his meditation of inhaling and exhaling on five. Even after all this time and all the work he’s done, these pockets of release are essential. They always will be. He gets a good five minutes in before the inevitable knock on the door. His friends are amazing, but some of them will never quite understand that not everyone shares their endless capacity for socializing. They will remain nameless.“Come in,” he sighs, resigned. His resignation and resurfaced tension don’t last long - it’s his brother, thank fuck. No energizer bunny in sight. “Hi.” He rolls onto his side and pats the space beside him. “I thought you were you-know-who.”“I’m a who’s who,” his brother says. “Like in gossip magazines.” Then he flings himself onto the bed, shaking the frame and Ikuya’s entire being. “Comfy,” he remarks as he flops down next to Ikuya. “You taking a break?”“Yeah. I need a few before people start making speeches.”“Shit, was I supposed to prepare one?”“No. No one was. But you can tell Nagisa’s going to start screaming ‘speech, speech, speech!’ any minute now.”“Then I guess I’ll have to ad-lib.”“I’m terrified.”They’re keeping it simple this weekend. No groomsmen, no weird hierarchy of friends, no wedding party at all. They never discussed having a kid throwing petals - Tsukushi would sooner commit murder. Ikuya had experienced some guilt when they made the decision. Ideally, his brother would be his best man. When he’d expressed those feelings, his brother had laughed in his face. There was no reason to feel guilty, he said, especially since he’d still be planning his bachelor party.Allowing him to plan his bachelor party was a big mistake. Huge. Ikuya didn’t know a hangover could last for months. He might still be hungover right now. His brother had, of course, emerged unscathed.Ikuya will forever remember it as one of the best nights of his life.“I can see why you like it here,” his brother says with a glance out the wide-open window. “You never did tell me why you chose it.”“We came here once,” he tells him. “Two years ago. Almost to the day, I think. Weird, right?”“Cosmic coincidence?”If only he knew. “You could say that.” The memory of that night hasn’t faded one bit. “We only found this hotel because we were tired and it was the closest one.”“Nice find. They have great sake and comfy beds. What more could you ask for?”“Mhm,” he agrees. “But it’s really about the beach. That night…” That night changed his life. “This place freed me.”His brother always hears what he’s not saying.“And now you’re back to get yourself a ball and chain,” his brother says, unsuccessfully fending off a smack. “A ball and chain that loves you very much! Good god, the shit I put up with from you.” He wisely holds off on the hair-ruffling Ikuya knows he’s dying to do.“You can’t do anything about it because I’m younger.” He closes his eyes again and breathes deeply, letting the clean ocean air fill his lungs. “I could never have pictured this ten years ago. I wonder what that me would think if he could see me now.”“What do you think?”Back then, there was still time to turn things around. All the pain was still preventable. The heartbreak was fresh enough to be undone, their friendship not so far gone it couldn’t be pieced back together, good as new.That potential is gone. They’ve pieced themselves back together, yes, but the shape is different. The cracks are part of who they are and always will be. But, like Kintsugi, those cracks are now what make them beautiful.“I think he wouldn’t be able to understand.”“Everyone was confused it wasn’t you back then,” his brother admits, casually dropping a big old bombshell like it’s no big deal. “We all figured you guys were a given.”What is he supposed to do with that information? It’s honestly too much to take in. Doesn’t really matter what everyone figured, he decides. He’ll always have to contend with knowing it could have been him. Should have been him. There’s no room left for what others hoped for them. He can only carry so much regret. “Can’t change what happened. Or never happened. I’m glad you didn’t tell me back then,” he concludes. “It would only have made it worse.”“Yeah. That’s why I didn’t. More importantly,” his brother says, “what would middle school you think if he could see us now?”“I don’t know if he’d be happy or pissed. Either way, he’d cry.”“You two could bond over that.”“Ha, ha. Like you won’t be crying tomorrow.”“I’ll try not to blow my nose too loud during the ceremony.”They fall quiet then, content in each other’s company. There are very few people with whom Ikuya can be comfortably silent. Asahi is obviously one of those people, but it was hardly immediate. Even his mother doesn’t fully have that distinction, though he’s trying like hell to get there. She’s been more understanding than he deserves. It’s easy with his brother. It hasn’t always been, but that’s water under the bridge now. At this point, they’ve been friends longer than they were ever at odds.“We did good, though, right?” Ikuya asks eventually. “You and me.”“Best brothers in the world,” his brother says. “Ride or die. Who else would carry you on their back while you sang half of The Little Mermaid soundtrack at the top of your lungs?”Ikuya doesn’t recall that part of his bachelor party, but he completely believes it happened. “Fair. According to Asahi we have a billion years left. We’ll break the record for longest-running ride or dies.”“Easy.” Grimacing, his brother sits up and pulls Ikuya with him. “I can hear our joints popping.” Then he gives Ikuya one of his classic bear hugs, which will always be one of Ikuya’s favorite things. “Being your brother is the best thing to ever happen to me.”Ah, fuck. Every god damn time. “You too, Aniki,” he says as he blinks back extremely predictable tears. “Even middle school me knew that.” Then, with true resignation, “Should we go back out there? I’m going to owe you money in a second if we don’t.”“You can pay for pizza next time. Come on, let’s go.”So, popping joints and all, the best brothers in the world rejoin the party - and not a moment too soon.“Speech, speech, speech!”Less than twenty-four hours before his wedding, Ikuya breaks out the fuzzy socks.Autumn days cling to summer while Autumn nights creep slowly toward winter, but nothing can keep Ikuya and his beloved stars apart, so here he is, sitting on the deck outside their room in fuzzy socks, sweatpants, and two sweaters. The sound of the ocean in the distance underscores the chirping of crickets and voices of his friends and family, who he suspects will be partying well into the night. Their complaints when Ikuya made his exit fell on deaf ears - after all, he’s thirty-two going on sixty, and intends to stargaze and sleep like the dead.He and Asahi haven’t been back here since that night. A casual trip never felt right for something so sacred in Ikuya’s mind. Finding poetry in everything is both a strength and a weakness - it all needs to have meaning, and nothing ever had enough meaning to return to this place. What could possibly measure up to that night?Tomorrow measures up.The sliding glass door opens quietly behind him. He keeps his eyes trained on the sky as Asahi presses a mug of tea into his hand and sits down beside him.“Two sweaters, huh?”“My toes are cold.”“Not really what sweaters are for,” Asahi says. “Good thing I always come prepared.” He throws a blanket over their laps, laughing when Ikuya draws his knees to his chest and hugs them. “You’ve been doing that since we were kids.”He has, hasn’t he? It’s always doubled as a self-soothing and protective coping mechanism, a way of giving himself the hug he so badly needed but wouldn’t ask for, and a way of battening down the hatches to protect himself. It serves neither purpose anymore. Now it’s just muscle memory. “And you never stopped doing the karate chop hands.”“Because it never stopped looking cool!”“Yeah, you’re so cool,” he comforts an affronted Asahi. “A regular ninja.” His gaze drifts back to the sky. “This place hasn’t changed either. Same sky. I know that sounds stupid, but this sky is different from anywhere else.”Asahi huddles closer. “I know what you mean. Maybe because this one’s yours?”This sky is his. It’s kept his secrets for years now, dispersing them until they’re indistinguishable from stardust. “Thanks to a certain someone I know,” he smiles. “How are you feeling? About tomorrow.”“Like I’m finally getting it right,” Asahi says. “I mean, look at me - I’m the luckiest schmuck on the planet. Last time felt like I was in a dress rehearsal for the wrong show. I kept wondering how anyone could call their wedding the best day of their lives.” Ikuya pulls the blanket up to their necks. “Now I get it. I’d say this is the right show, except it’s not a show. It’s literally my life. That’s so much better.”Ikuya’s show wasn’t so much the wrong show as it was a horror show. Wrong doesn’t begin to cover it. He never wants to star in any show ever again, be it horror, tragedy, comedy - not even romance. Any genre would be wrong because, ultimately, it would all be fiction.“I think we’re both finally getting it right. I was convinced I’d be alone forever when I met him,” he says, “and I was so desperate not to be. Kind of like you, only seven years later. This time…” he trails off, searching for the words. “This time, I knew I could live without it. I just didn’t want to live without you.”Asahi pushes his face into Ikuya’s shoulder. “Stop stealing my lines,” he mumbles. “I won’t have any material for tomorrow.” The way his voice quavers betrays the depth of emotion behind his words.“I’m sure we’ll come up with something insufferable,” he says, kissing the top of Asahi’s head. “We’re getting corny in our old age.” More like Asahi’s corniness has rubbed off on him. Ikuya dares anyone to live with his golden retriever fiancé and not end up cliché as hell.“We’re allowed to be super corny this weekend.”“For a second I thought you said super horny.”“We’re allowed to be that too,” is Asahi’s strong closing - and opening - argument. The jury of Ikuya is thoroughly swayed. “Are your toes still cold?”“Yeah. I didn’t bring enough fuzzy socks for layers.” Little troll that he is, Asahi squeezes his foot with a decidedly cold hand. “Hey!” he yelps. “Asshole.”“An asshole you apparently can’t live without,” Asahi says. “Want to go to bed before your toes fall off?”“No thanks to you,” he says. “Okay, bed it is.” He kisses the inside of Asahi’s wrist and looks at him from under hooded eyelids. “I’m not taking the fuzzy socks off.”Asahi rubs the back of his calf. “I’d be mad if you did. The only thing better than a super horny Ikuya is a super horny Ikuya in fuzzy socks.”“Then you’re in luck.”The bed is familiar, and so is the press of their bodies under the covers. Unfamiliar are their sighs and hushed moans as Asahi takes them both in his hand, unhurried as their bodies move in tandem. Though he’s exhausted, Ikuya is fully present, even when they come with soft, sleep-laden noises and pleasure that rolls through them in waves. Something about doing this here makes it feel delicate and new, like a missing scene from their first time.Sleeping like the dead is easy after that, deep and dreamless.All that’s left is tomorrow - and everything after.After sleeping in, Ikuya spends the morning of his wedding day lounging with his mother and brother. There’s no makeup to be done, but skincare is no joke. In addition to his own routine, he allows his mother to work her brand of magic. When he was younger, he’d sneak into her bathroom and steal her face masks and moisturizer, crimes so well-committed she couldn’t possibly catch him - or so he thought. The brand-new, high-end products he’d found on his bed one day after school proved otherwise.“You look so relaxed,” she says as she smooths eye masks onto his skin. “I’m glad.”“Did you think I’d be nervous?”“Excited,” she corrects him. “I know I am.”Of course she is. She’s obsessed with Asahi. She’d adopt him on the spot if she could. Sometimes they get together without even telling Ikuya. It’s giving the Kirishima siblings a complex.“I know you are,” he laughs. “And of course I’m excited. But relaxed is good, right?”“Very.” She starts applying a gel face mask, further relaxing Ikuya with her soothing touch. “You two were so cute when you were little. All the yelling in the world couldn’t keep you from spending every afternoon at his house or ours.” With a smile he wishes weren’t so sad, she says, “I wish you didn’t have to go through what you did to end up here.”Though he’d never gone into detail, Ikuya had eventually told his mother what happened to him after he’d disappeared. She’d kept it together remarkably well for someone who was so clearly distraught, focused entirely on comforting him and waiting until he retreated to his room to fall apart. As in all things, his brother was there for him - which in this case meant being there for her.“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he says. “You, me, and a twenty-step skincare routine.”“The skincare routine gets top billing?” his brother complains. “What about me?”“The moisturizer doesn’t smell like beer.”“You’re both my babies,” his mother says. “I just like Ikuya more.”Two very different cries of “Mom!” send them all into fits of laughter.Morning gives way to a beautiful Autumn afternoon. Thanks to his angel of a mother, Ikuya’s skin is flawless, and his hair is, as Asahi always says, super shiny. In place of a suit, he’s opted for a loose white shirt and a pair of linen pants, rolled up at the ankles so he can go barefoot. He’s never felt more at home in his body, never been so comfortable in his skin.The sun’s hold on the sky lessens every day now, so sunset is already here when Ikuya arrives at the beach, painting the sky with pinks, reds, golds, and oranges that bleed together like watercolors. The sand is sun-warmed beneath his feet, unaffected by the changing seasons. Seated on wooden benches by the water’s edge are their friends and family - even from a distance, Ikuya can see Tsukushi’s death glare, aimed at anyone who so much as looks in his direction.Asahi never did figure out why his nephew wants to feed him rat poison.The path to the water is lined with lanterns, casting their warm glow on Ikuya and his footprints in the sand. Under any other circumstances, he’d be uncomfortable doing this on his own, with all eyes on him. Today, he simply smiles and gives their guests a small wave as he walks down to the water and wades in until he’s ankle-deep. A few people are already crying, and he doesn’t need to look to know those people are his brother, his mother, and Rin Matsuoka.Asahi follows soon after. His smile and wave are bigger than Ikuya’s. Flashier. Being together has restored traces of who they used to be, and Asahi used to be all uncontrollable enthusiasm, while Ikuya’s joy was more reserved but no less palpable. They come together a few feet from shore, just as dusk begins to gather.“Hey,” Asahi says. “You come here often?”“Only when I’m looking for a mean pistachio cappuccino.”It meant a lot to them that Nao agreed to officiate. It still means a lot, but right now, he’s the last thing on their minds, merely a guiding presence in a moment where no one exists but the two of them.“You look amazing,” Asahi whispers just before Nao begins, like he’s not wearing almost the same exact thing. “Your hair is super shiny.”“You do too,” he whispers back, and yeah, maybe he does get it - clothes aside, Asahi is radiant in the fading sun. His jewel-toned eyes are clear and bright, and his smile is as brilliant as Ikuya’s ever seen, flooding the space around them with sunshine. “Ready?”Asahi’s answer is in his hands. They join with Ikuya’s, and then it’s time.Nao doesn’t pontificate or get too flowery with his language. The jokes are few, and the asides he does make are clever and at no one’s expense. Without any specifics, he acknowledges the long, painful paths they took to get here and how those paths were once a single, shared road before splitting in two, leading them first to opposite sides of the room, then the world. Nao punctuates their story with testimonials from friends and family. Every single one is some form of ‘thank god’ or ‘finally’ or ‘Haru owes me fifty-thousand yen’ or ‘Rin, it’s not a bet if we both think the same thing.’When it’s finally their turn to speak, the sky is a deep indigo, the last shade before the sun is gone and the stars take center stage. They had considered moving farther from the shore for their vows, but ultimately decided against it. Some things will always be a secret, but they will never be one. So when they speak, it’s in earshot of their loved ones and meant only for each other.“You always say things better than I do,” Asahi begins. “I sound like a kid compared to you. But maybe I sound like a kid because part of me will always be a kid. Because that’s when I met you. I was too young to get it back then, plus I was, you know - me.” The image of Asahi in all his middle school glory makes Ikuya laugh. If it makes anyone else laugh, he doesn’t notice, nor does he care. “But ever since you first yelled at me about how not serious the swim club was, my life’s revolved around you.”A slideshow of melting popsicles, overturned Ramune bottles, and two kids in their school uniforms drenched head-to-toe in salt water and shrieking with laughter flashes through Ikuya’s mind. Like Asahi, part of him will always live in those moments.“I’ve spent more than twenty years either running after you or - ” his face falls for a brief moment, but Ikuya is there to catch him, giving his hands an encouraging squeeze “ - or running away from you. Either way, it always came down to you. I didn’t realize first and last loves could be the same thing. Not until it was too late. But for some reason, you’re here now, and you’re willing to be the first, last, and only person I’ll ever love.” Normally, Ikuya would be crying by now, but his whole being is so alight with emotion there’s no room for tears. “I couldn’t come up with a good ending for this,” Asahi says, “but I guess I don’t need to. Not when we can do it together.”The sun is gone now. Stars blink into existence one by one, and soon in numbers too great to count. Ikuya’s mother, brother, and Rin aren’t the only ones crying now, and while he’s sure he’ll be moved when all is said and done, right now Ikuya can only focus on saying and doing.“Funny you should bring up endings,” he observes, “since I’ve defined my whole life by beginnings and endings. It’s how I made sense of things. The swim team breaking up was an ending. Finding you all again was a beginning. Losing you was an ending that never stopped.” Follow where I lead, he implores. “Life isn’t neat like that, though. After a while, I realized beginnings and endings are two sides of the same coin. The end of something is always the beginning of something else, so if everything is a beginning and an ending, then nothing is, right? Then I wondered if my life was actually defined by phases of you.”Middle school, high school, college, Aito, London, Alex, Japan - all of them were in some way demarcated by Asahi. Even when he wasn’t there, even when he wasn’t on Ikuya’s mind, Asahi was always the through line.“That was a dead end too,” he says. “I was trying to quantify you so I could make sense of you, and that didn’t work either. I was just using you as a stand-in for beginnings and endings, and how could I possibly reduce you - reduce us to something so small and linear? There are no phases of us. There’s only us, full stop. We have exactly one beginning, and that’s the day we met. As far as endings go, we have no ending at all - because there is no end for us. We’re endless. We have been since the beginning.”As they’re spoken, words meant only for each other become part of everything, echoing without end through the night sky. Their friends and family will remember how lovely this was and how much it meant to them, but what they said will eventually fade.That will never happen for Ikuya.Ikuya will remember every word.He’ll remember the water lapping at their feet and the stars overhead. He’ll remember Asahi’s hands in his and the small A tattooed on his skin in place of a second ring. He’ll remember how they looked at each other as they said the two words that bound them, and how they all but erased the nine that were once his biggest mistake. Finally, he’ll remember Asahi’s golden smile, and how it felt to kiss him for the first time as something and someone new.And every time he remembers, he’ll feel the same as he does now, unchanged by days, weeks, months, and well beyond a billion years.“How cool is this?” Asahi says when they come up for air. “We’re married.”“So cool,” he laughs. “There’s nothing cooler than this.”“Nothing.” Asahi kisses the palm of his hand - a gesture Ikuya has come to expect but never takes for granted. “I love you.”Ikuya holds him close and tells him something true. “I love you.”The sound of tears, cheers, and whistles draws their attention back to the beach. Despite their desire to share in everyone’s joy, they don’t return to shore quite yet. They have all night to be with their friends and family - the water is theirs, off limits to all but them.Eventually, they do join their guests, who envelop them in more love than Ikuya thought possible. At the same time, they know him and Asahi well enough to give them their space. So when they’re spirited back to the small hotel hidden along the coast to celebrate, they’re part of a family and the only two people in the room.There are toasts, laughter, more tears, and a sense of euphoria that lasts even after they’ve returned to their room and fuzzy socks.“You ready?” he asks as they pick up their stargazing from the night before, familiar and forever changed.Asahi tilts his head in question. “For what?”“Everything.”“With you?” Asahi smiles. “Always have been.”And then?Then they don’t live happily ever after. Happily ever afters have endings, and their story has no end.This is their love story, and in their love story - they live.