Chapter Text
He’s a grown man now, but Hikaru’s running errands for his momma like it’s a part time job. The entire first year of farm work left him aching and miserable, but he’s stronger for it and it doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Momma went through a lot, raising him on her own for so long. The least he can do is pick up groceries in town or ferry this or that to and from the Indou house for her.
It’s been a few years since stopping by the Tsujinaka place filled him with dread akin to going up the mountain. It was rough for a while. Even knowing that Yoshiki was gone, miles away studying in Tokyo, the familiar walls of what had once been a second home to him felt haunted. Whatever ghosts he feared might be waiting for him there seem to have settled and none of the remaining Tsujinakas ever gave a hint of being disappointed in Hikaru. Maybe it would’ve been easier if they had. Then he could’ve defended himself with righteous indignation.
What was I s’posed t’ do?, he’d shouted during countless imagined confrontations.
Eventually, after enough errands and favors had him crossing paths uneventfully with everyone in Yoshiki’s family, he began to relax. He’d gotten away with being a shitty friend. Of course Yoshiki wouldn’t have talked to any of them about it. It was the perfect crime.
Him and Yoshiki still talk, ostensibly. Happy birthday, and new chapter out next Thursday, and videos linked without commentary. It wasn’t like he talked much more than that with anyone else from school nowadays.
Never mind that Yoshiki wasn’t “from school”—that he was from the inception of the world, toddling ahead with the all the expertise his eleven months’ head start on life afforded him until Hikaru got big enough to set the pace instead. So long as there has been Hikaru, there has always been Yoshiki.
Momma sent him over tonight with a gift for Kaoru and some borrowed something-or-other to return to Satoko. He’s not sure if Kaoru will even be there since she moved out with a friend recently, but it’ll make its way to her eventually.
It’s weird to think that even little Kaoru’s grown enough to have left this place, even if she is only just over in Kibougayama. Everyone’s had something to say about the impracticality of it—all the wasted money when she could just live at home and drive over to work like everyone else—but she’s Yoshiki’s sister after all. He doesn’t blame her for wanting to spread her wings a little bit, even if she loves her momma too dearly to go far.
All the village kids are gone except Hikaru. And no one hesitates to remind him that he ain’t a kid anymore. He’s a man now, responsible for thanklessly keeping the village safe and doing his part to grow it.
He kicks a rock down the Tsujinakas’ driveway, wincing as it jumps and hits the side of their house. Better that than a car, he supposes.
Hikaru lets himself in and announces himself from the genkan over the din of murmuring coming from the dining room. “‘Scuse me, I got a special delivery here!”
There’s guest shoes, so he’ll just drop everything off and head back home. Maybe have a snack if they invite him to. In order to be polite.
“Hikaru-kun, come in!” Satoko beckons. He can hear her chair scrape against the floor from the room over and she’s kind enough to get up and meet Hikaru in the hallway, taking the bags from his hands. “Don’t let me send you off without that article your mom asked for.”
“Yes’m,” Hikaru says, an easy grin spread across his face. He’ll gladly be their errand boy for the rest of his life.
His grin falters, just for a moment, when he follows into the dining room after Satoko and locks eyes with Yoshiki.
It’s not objectively bad, seeing him. Hikaru’s just not prepared. He smiles even wider to conceal the cold panic streaking through his veins. He briefly considers turning on his heel and leaving without another word. What’s he so scared for? It’s just Yoshiki.
“Wow, I didn’t know you were comin’ back in town!” Hikaru says, laughing and standing awkwardly in front of the table, placing his hands on the edge to ground himself.
Yoshiki’s sitting there next to Kaoru, casual as anything, courteously nudging a narrow slice of cake around his plate. “It was a last minute thing,” he explains, looking a little sheepish for having been caught sneaking back into Kubitachi like this. “My class tonight got cancelled so I decided to make the trip for Kaoru’s birthday. Sorry, I’m leaving in the morning so I didn’t bother letting anyone know.”
Then Yoshiki winces and jerks away from Kaoru, glaring at her. She must’ve kicked him under the table. She fixes a sour look at him and tattles, “I had t’ ask ya for weeks if you’d be comin’ and ya couldn’t even give me an answer ’til yesterday. And ya didn’t even tell Hikaru when you decided you’d come? That’s lousy manners, y’know.”
Hikaru snickers and Yoshiki shoots him an unexpectedly familiar and long suffering look. “It ain’t like I knew ahead of time that I was gonna be able t’ make it,” he grumbles. The Mie accent sneaking back into his voice is oddly satisfying to hear. “I even brought ya some nicer sake than I ever get to drink.”
Shit, Kaoru’s 20 now? Hikaru feels ancient. He almost says as much aloud, but he probably ought to already have known her age. Logically he knows she’s not still 13, since she lives in town and has a job and all, but he doesn’t see her often enough to think of her in any way other than as Yoshiki’s kid sister.
“Sit down and have some cake with us, Hikaru,” Satoko offers, already pulling a plate and set of utensils out for his use.
Suddenly unsure of himself, he glances at Yoshiki to check for his approval. It’s not like they haven’t seen each other at all over the last few years, but those few occasions were scheduled. He doesn’t want to intrude when his presence has not been explicitly requested by all involved parties. Yoshiki gives him nothing. Just raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t understand why Hikaru’s standing there like a damn fool.
Awkwardly, Hikaru pulls out a chair and takes a seat opposite the only other kids in Kubitachi. “Well, if ya don’t mind,” he says, too quiet to be effectively polite.
It’s actually not that difficult to make small talk with Kaoru once he gets started. The birthday girl is more than happy to chatter away about her apartment, and what living with Mari is like, and how her job is goin’, and on and on. And it’s easy for Hikaru to laugh when he’s supposed to and nod along and even rope Yoshiki into joking with him a few times.
Yoshiki seems less uncomfortable than he expected. He’s still kinda quiet, but not in a tense or moody sort of way. His hair’s shorter than when they were kids, and more adult, but that’s the most of what’s changed about him physically other than the way he holds himself. He sits up taller now instead of trying to hunch over to hide himself.
He smiles easier now. More naturally.
“How ‘bout you, Tsujinaka-sensei?” Hikaru teases, tapping Yoshiki’s shin with his toe under the table and earning himself a genuine kick back in retaliation, “any weird colleagues?”
“Everyone in the biology department is weird,” Yoshiki says, deadpan only for a moment before smiling. “But I’m still a student. Just because I teach a couple classes doesn’t make me a teacher.”
“It literally does!” Hikaru asserts, pointing his fork so assertively that it flings a cake crumb across the table. Kaoru snaps it up quick and eats it, then proceeds to finally start picking bites off Yoshiki’s plate.
“Nah, it’s not that simple,” Yoshiki dismisses Hikaru just as thoughtlessly as he slides his plate over to Kaoru. “It’s just what you have to do in grad school.”
“That’s too much school,” Hikaru groans. “It don’t make sense to have ya teachin’ school and still bein’ a student. That’s just cruel! Ya look like ya ain’t slept in weeks!”
“I haven’t,” Yoshiki deadpans.
At the same time, Kaoru asserts, “That’s just how he looks.”
Yoshiki laughs and ruffles Kaoru’s hair and something in Hikaru’s chest aches with the weight of a lifetime of sense-memories of that hand on his own scalp back when things were easy.
But talking to Yoshiki tonight is still easy somehow, in spite of everything. Maybe it had only been awkward the other times they’ve seen each other since graduation because those were prearranged meetings. Maybe all they needed to slip back into the effortless friendship of their more carefree days was to stop approaching each other with the weight of expectation.
It makes sense to Hikaru. Of course it was weird to see someone at an appointed time with the unspoken agreement to pretend like things were normal. Their friendship had always been the most natural thing in the world, thoughtless and organic.
When was the last time he talked to anyone this easily for this long? It’s like coming out of a daze with sudden, gasping clarity—he’s been drifting listlessly through life, and now all of a sudden he’s back at the Tsujinaka family’s table like all of that lonesomeness was just a bad dream.
Without meaning to, Hikaru realizes he’s been at the Tsujinaka house just chatting away for over an hour when Kaoru announces that she’s gonna head back to her place.
His first, most selfish thought is that she can’t leave now. Not when he’s just gotten this back. Immediately, he swallows it down. It’s not their fault he’s like this.
“Ah, I’ll get outta yer hair then,” Hikaru says with no small amount of reluctance. “But first, happy birthday from me ‘n Momma.” He decides at the last moment to take some of the credit for the gift as he hands it over. Hopefully whatever Momma picked out is good.
Luckily, Kaoru seems sufficiently delighted by the seal-themed stationery set. Momma’s always been good with presents and Hikaru should’ve known better than to doubt her for even a moment. Of course, he also should know better than to act like he was involved in the process.
He’s pulling his shoes back on in the genkan to give the Tsujinaka family time to say their own goodbyes when Yoshiki shuffles over to join him. “I’ll walk ya home,” he offers, “since Mom’ll keep Kaoru here at least another thirty minutes reminiscing about her whole life so far.”
“She do that with you still?” Hikaru asks. He’s surprised by the offer, and a little nervous, but not unhappy. This is the perfect opportunity to not fuck up showing Yoshiki that he can be a good friend to him again.
“Mine’s shorter since I didn’t grow up in the salon,” Yoshiki says with a small laugh.
The sky is cloudy so there’s no stars out tonight. Yoshiki blends into the night with his black sweatshirt and dark jeans. There’s a slight breeze rustling through all the greenery and it makes Hikaru shudder with a chill. He watches as Yoshiki takes a deep breath with his eyes closed like he’s savoring it.
“Ya miss it?” He asks.
Yoshiki thinks for a long moment, eyes open now as he walks onward. “It’s nice how quiet it gets,” he says.
Hikaru does not point out that this is not an answer to the question that he asked. Nervous, he says, “It was a nice surprise gettin’ t’ see ya, but now I wonder how many times you’ve snuck into town and never said nothin’ at all.”
“Maybe once in the last year,” he admits sheepishly. “Only ever for a day. I got too much goin’ on to take the time to get back here much. Kaoru’d be better off comin’ to see me, but I don’t see her making the trip.”
“Yeah? Is that what a guy’s gotta do t’ see ya nowadays?”
Yoshiki snorts. “If you want to come to Tokyo, just give me a heads up so I can check my schedule.”
“Yer schedule?”
“I have classes, remember? And research. So if ya just show up on my doorstep, I ain’t always gonna be there to let you in.”
Bright laughter bubbles out of Hikaru, buoyed by the Mie-ben in Yoshiki’s speech.
“Alright, alright, I’ll make an appointment t’ be yer friend. Sound good?”
“Sure,” Yoshiki agrees easily. It stings a little, how dismissive that response is. He doesn’t have any reason to believe that Hikaru means it when he says he’ll come visit.
They’re outside Hikaru’s house now, and in the dim light he can see Yoshiki smiling at him. Another real-looking smile, one that makes him seem even more grown and separate from the boy Hikaru knew. When did he learn how to smile right?
Hikaru pauses, unsure of how he’s supposed to send off Yoshiki, who was always a five minute walk away. Yoshiki, who he had not seen off much at all in his final days in Kubitachi. Yoshiki, who was his best friend, who probably still knows Hikaru better than anyone else in this world in spite of their lapsed friendship.
“See ya soon, Tsujinaka-sensei!” Hikaru says with a grin, shoving one hand in his pocket and waving the other up casually before turning on his heel.
In all the excitement, he forgot to bring the article from Satoko home to Momma.
The worrying started almost as soon as he shut the door behind him back on Kaoru’s birthday, and it’s still going strong days later. Old fears are kicking around even though they don’t make sense. No one saw him talking to Yoshiki. No one knows he’s going to Tokyo. No one will think anything about him visiting.
But what if Yoshiki said something?
Want me to keep ur visit secret from everyone? Hikaru offers via text without thinking. Wouldn’t want em getting too jealous that no one else got to see ya.
Who would care about that? Yoshiki answers.
He’s right. And furthermore, there’s no one in Hikaru’s life who would go through the effort of finding out his plans so they can go spreading rumors. They’re not in high school anymore.
They never talked about it. Not back in school, and not after. He used to feel grateful for having been able to sidestep any complicated emotional conversations. Now, with years of distance, that chasm of silence may as well have left them on separate continents.
Last he’d heard, Asako kept in touch with Yoshiki. But that was years agoc so maybe he doesn’t even talk to her anymore. Truthfully, Hikaru hardly makes an effort to talk to anyone from school nowadays. He just chats with folks at the farm, or in the shops, or in bars, or on apps. Turns out whatever they thought about him didn’t end up mattering a whole lot after graduation.
Even with the contents of their messages reduced to memes and links, maybe Yoshiki was still his closest friend.
Travel to Tokyo involves too many transfers for Hikaru’s taste, but the novelty of it keeps him engaged enough not to doze off and miss a stop even though it takes hours to get there.
He’d always pictured Yoshiki living just off some bustling station with a shopping mall built right on top, but it makes more sense when his journey ends at a small two-platform station.
“You didn’t get lost,” Yoshiki says by way of greeting with a look of pleasant surprise that Hikaru wants to knock off his face. He’s waiting just outside the north exit of the station, looking somehow less familiar than he had weeks ago in Kubitachi. Hikaru can’t quite put his finger on why.
“It don’t take a compass, smartass,” Hikaru says, hefting his duffel bag further up his shoulder to give himself something to do with his hands and to create more of a physical barrier between them. He still doesn’t know how they should greet each other anymore. “Got a long walk t’ your place?”
“Not at all,” Yoshiki says, strolling ahead without checking to make sure that Hikaru falls into step beside him. “That was one of the reasons I chose this apartment. My old dormitory was a ten minute walk from the station and I hated every second of it on the days I had early classes.”
“Ten whole minutes,” Hikaru marvels sarcastically, snorting when Yoshiki bumps his shoulder. “Can’t imagine what it woulda been like if we only ever had to go ten minutes to get t’ anywhere!”
“At least you drive now, right? I haven’t had to get a license yet.” Yoshiki turns abruptly onto a street lined with apartment buildings and points to an unremarkable white one on the right. “That’s me.”
Hikaru slows his pace to fall in line behind Yoshiki as a car passes them on the street and stays a few steps back as they near the building. It occurs to him then that the reason Yoshiki looks strange today is probably his clothes. He’d almost always worn looser clothing growing up, and even a few weeks ago he had on that big sweatshirt, but everything he’s wearing seems like it fits him better in what must be a more deliberate way. His plum-colored button down shirt emphasizes his narrow waist, and his slacks are more fitted than he used to wear, accenting his long legs and lithe build. They remind Hikaru of the jeans some girls wear to show off their butts—is that something Yoshiki does?
He realizes he’s staring at Yoshiki’s ass and snaps his gaze right back up to the nape of his neck. Nothing worth looking at, anyway.
Had he always wanted to dress like this, even back then, or had he changed while Hikaru wasn’t watching? He glances down at his own clothes, which are just newer versions of the things he has always worn, then looks up again to continue following this wonderland Yoshiki down the rabbit hole.
Yoshiki apologizes for Hikaru having to walk up three whole flights of stairs to get to his apartment, and then apologizes again for how small it is before Hikaru even sets foot inside the door.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Hikaru dismisses his concerns politely from the genkan, peering into the apartment with nosy curiosity. He’d been warned ahead of time via text, but Yoshiki wasn’t kidding—the whole apartment is smaller than Hikaru’s bedroom.
The house slippers set out for his use look as good as new. It irks Hikaru, the thought that Yoshiki is treating him like someone distant enough to need to impress.
Unsurprisingly, he keeps a pretty clean home. Yoshiki’s probably the type to tidy up before having company—well, he would be, if Yoshiki was the type to have company. Judging from his empty walls, he’s not one for decoration unless the sticky notes spreading out from behind his desk like mold spores count.
In fact, Yoshiki’s desk is the one part of his conspicuously orderly living space that offers signs of the chaos of a normal life. Several textbooks are open with colorful tabs stuck to the pages going in all directions. Hikaru peers into one of them, feigning some vague, polite interest in the diagram of one internal organ or another.
“Of course you’d focus on that,” Yoshiki says with a sigh. “I’m in the middle of a paper. I made literally everything else clean!”
Literally everything else is a bed, a small low table, a bookshelf and a kitchenette.
“It’s so clean there ain’t nothin’ else t’ look at! Ya don’t even have a TV?” Hikaru asks dumbly.
“Nah,” Yoshiki shakes his head, sitting on the edge of his bed and motioning vaguely for Hikaru to help himself to a floor cushion. “I’m living as cheap as I can get away with. I just watch things on my laptop.”
“Ya manage to cook much in here?”
“Hell no,” Yoshiki laughs. “I don’t have the time!”
Hikaru keeps scanning the room for something to rest his eyes on so he’s not left just staring up at Yoshiki on his bed. “Does school really take up that much of your life? You were always smart at it.”
“Takes up most of it, yeah,” Yoshiki shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. It sounds like torture to Hikaru. “How about you? Farm keeping you busy?”
“Busy ‘nuff, between that and helping Momma out how I can.” Hikaru shifts uncomfortably, very aware of how awfully boring his life is. “I go out sometimes, but mostly I just want to rest at home after workin’.”
Yoshiki nods, then jumps to his feet, “Oh, drinks! Are you thirsty? I can make tea, or…?”
“Water’s fine,” Hikaru says. He wants something cold, even though the spring air is still somewhat chilly.
“You seein’ anyone back home?” Yoshiki asks over the splash of the faucet.
It shouldn’t take Hikaru aback—they ain’t kids anymore, of course Yoshiki would’ve outgrown his aversion to talking about anything that has the chance of being tangentially sexy—but it does. Of course, now he knows why it used to be that way. Makes sense things are different now. “Not right now, nah. Not a lotta luck lately.”
Yoshiki sets a glass down in front of him and quirks a brow in response.
“Don’t give me that look. In the grand scheme ‘a things, I’d call a few years lately.” He takes a long drink of water and uses that time to work up the gumption to ask, casually, inconsequentially, “How ‘bout you?”
He’s watching with his face still down in his glass and his eyes glancing up when Yoshiki laughs good-naturedly, carding his fingers back through his hair in a sheepish gesture. “Nah, I don’t have time for dating. Not really interested, anyway.”
Even though it’s strange to see Yoshiki responding to a question about romance with breezy laughter—even though that strangeness is a sensation that rhymes with guilt—some part of Hikaru is relieved. He doesn’t want to fake interest in someone more important in Yoshiki’s life.
“Do ya at least go out to eat enough t’ show me some good food?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yoshiki reassures him, “I’m ready to play tour guide for you.”
After a busy day of sightseeing, which Yoshiki admits is almost identical to the route he took his mom and Kaoru on a few years ago, Hikaru is more than ready to pass out when they return to his apartment.
“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” Yoshiki offers. He mentioned earlier that Kaoru’s the only one who’s used the futon, so it’s basically brand new.
“C’mon, you know this is what I’m used to,” Hikaru reassures him, plopping down on top of the futon and immediately beginning to fuss with his phone. He hasn’t talked to someone so much in years and he desperately needs to zone out for a while.
He grunts politely in response when Yoshiki offers to let him shower first, waving him on without taking his eyes off his phone. Out of curiosity, he opens a dating app and waits for the girls within his current radius to load. He swipes past them with wistful disinterest—there’s so damn many people here, a guy could probably swipe for 48 hours with no end in sight of the lineup of beautiful women. It’s exhausting to consider, so he doesn’t consider any of them.
Would Yoshiki have a similar number of opportunities? Nah, that’s impossible, but at least he’s gotta have it better here than he ever would’ve back home. If he ever even gave it a shot. It’s a bit of a waste, Yoshiki growing up under all that pressure and finally moving somewhere he can let his guard down more and then not even bothering to date. He’d probably have good luck with it.
He’s still scrolling listlessly when Yoshiki reemerges, clutching a towel around his waist and mumbling an apology for forgetting to bring a change of clothes in with him.
It’s only by chance that Hikaru happens to glance up at Yoshiki pulling clothes out of his dresser and see the dull red lines raked down his back. He furrows his brow in consternation, doing a double-take and making sure it’s not a trick of the light.
“Hey,” Hikaru says without considering what he’s actually gonna say. Damn, it sure would be nice if he weren’t so tired from talking already. “Ya got, uh…. On your back. It’s like…” he swipes his splayed fingers through the air like a cat.
Yoshiki cocks his head to the side for a moment while he interprets Hikaru’s vague statement, then winces and presses a hand to his face. “Ah. Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, one sec.”
Without another word, Yoshiki retreats into the bathroom, reappearing moments later wearing a roomy sleep shirt and a pair of soft-looking sweatpants.
Hikaru asks bluntly, “Was that from sex?” He immediately feels stupid, but he’s too gobsmacked and tired for social graces—and he doesn’t have enough of those even at full capacity.
“Yeah,” Yoshiki says in a strangely measured voice. He’s trying to act casual, but his movements are too precise and he’s holding his body too still. Hikaru recognizes the tension from years spent attached at the hip. It’s disturbing, seeing him regress into this again when he’s been otherwise relaxed.
“But ya said you don’t date,” Hikaru points out. A few years ago, that probably would’ve come out of his mouth sounding more accusatory even though he’s just speaking out of confusion. Now, mere hours after reconnecting, and with several hours still to go until Hikaru’s departure, he’s mindful of how fragile their friendship may still be.
“Don’t gotta date to fool around,” Yoshiki says quietly. “Sorry, I don’t—“
“What’re ya apologizin’ t’ me for?” Hikaru asks with genuine confusion.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Yoshiki says. He’s pinching the hem of his shirt between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it between them just how he used to when he was nervous.
Ah. That… makes sense. Hikaru has the audacity to look sheepish and he says, “You don’t gotta worry about that, y’know. I ain’t bothered by it.”
Yoshiki looks him in the eye and asks, “Really?”
The implication—real or imagined—stings a little, but Hikaru figures he deserves it. “Yeah. I came all the way here t’ see ya.”
Hikaru leaves a lot unsaid because he can get away with it. Because Yoshiki won’t make him say it. I came all the way here to see you, and I knew what you were when I made that choice.
“Be pretty weird if I only wanted t’ visit on the condition that you’re a virgin, don’tcha think?” Hikaru adds, wriggling away from anything too serious with a joke.
By the time Hikaru has showered and collapsed back onto the futon in his sleepwear, Yoshiki seems fully at ease again. Any traces of cautious tension seem to have evaporated, which makes Hikaru feel like he can relax again.
He yawns, loud and performative, and rubs his sleepy eyes with his fist. It’d be easy to go to sleep now and pretend that awkward moment never happened, but Hikaru feels compelled to say something. To prove that Yoshiki can be at ease with him.
“Was he any good?” He asks just after Yoshiki turns off the remaining lamp by his bedside.
Yoshiki snorts. “He was fine, Hikaru. Go to sleep.”
“C’mon,” Hikaru says through a yawn, “y’never wanna tell me none of the good stuff.”
“Like you wanna know. You ain’t even gonna remember this, you’re so tired!”
“No way I’m forgettin’ that you actually got laid.”
“Good night, Hikaru.” Yoshiki says firmly, but Hikaru can hear the smile in his voice.
Hikaru sleeps like a log. He’d worried that the ambient noise of the big city might disturb his country boy sensitivities, but Yoshiki’s not exactly living in any of the several beating hearts of this metropolis.
That had been a bit of a surprise to Hikaru yesterday, the sprawl of the city. Sure, he knew it was massive, but knowing it in your head and actually having to catch trains to go to anywhere nameable were different beasts. It’s a good thing that Yoshiki has a solid foundation of having to go out of his way to get to anything at all from growing up in Kubitachi. At least now that lucky bastard has four convenience stores between his apartment and the local station.
“Good morning,” Yoshiki croaks, rolling out of bed and shambling like he’s half dead over to his kitchenette. He groans like it’s the end of the world. “I forgot to get more coffee.”
“You’re like a regular salaryman now,” Hikaru marvels, lounging with his arms behind his head and one leg propped up on a raised knee.
“I’m just a damn fool who kept signing up for early classes,” Yoshiki corrects, pawing the sleep from his eyes. “D’you wanna go to a cafe? If not, I'll go to the vending machine.”
“Cafe sounds nice to me,” Hikaru says. He smiles privately as he stirs the contents of his duffel bag to find today’s clothes; who would’ve ever believed that he’d be the one ready to hop right out of bed in the morning while Yoshiki is dragging his ass?
They’re out the door within ten minutes and face to face with another brilliant spring day. Yoshiki’s slightly more awake now and steers them to a small, unpretentious cafe just down the street. He orders with practiced efficiency, leaving Hikaru unprepared and making a snap decision to get the toast set.
They take the two seats at the narrow bar facing out of the window of the cafe, staring serenely out at the handful of pedestrians who stroll past until their orders arrive.
“Yer like a commercial,” Hikaru snickers, as Yoshiki takes a long close-eyed whiff of his coffee.
“Shut up,” Yoshiki says succinctly, not even deigning to turn toward Hikaru. His peaceful expression removes any impact from his words. It’s borderline perverse, the way Yoshiki delights in his coffee and allows it to transform his entire demeanor.
There are only a handful of seats here. If Hikaru was here just to be a tourist, he’d feel a little disappointed by how workaday this place is when he knows there are so many aesthetically curated spots with fancy delicacies that he can’t get back home. He considers it for a moment, whether or not he ought to feel cheated out of that experience, but decides that it’s nice to be somewhere normal with Yoshiki. Somewhere comfortable with itself.
He spreads anko and butter on his thick slab of toast and settles in comfortably. Occasionally, Yoshiki’s phone buzzes facedown atop the table but he doesn’t seem concerned by it at all and devotes his attention to sipping appreciatively at his coffee.
“So,” he dares to broach the topic, glancing sideways at Yoshiki sitting beside him, “What’s his name?”
“Who?” Yoshiki asks. After a beat of genuine confusion, it dawns on him and he laughs it off shyly. “Oh, um. Kei…ta? Keitarou? I think it was one of those…”
Hikaru can’t hide his shock, “Oh wow, ya really don’t know?”
“It’s not that important,” he says with a shrug. His phone buzzes again and he lifts it to peek at the screen before laying it back down. It buzzes again almost immediately and this time he makes a few efficient swipes before setting it down again. “It’s… different, for me. I have different goals when I’m looking for someone.”
That’s… almost certainly supposed to be true, at least. Kibougayama is not the place to look if all you want is casual, anonymous sex, so Hikaru has never considered it as a possibility for himself. If word got around that he was a good-for-nothing fuckboy, it’d make eventually finding an agreeable wife from the already-small number of prospects miserable.
The pressure to find a lifelong mate and clip her wings by moving her out to Kubitachi already sucks much of the joy out of dating. He doesn’t have the luxury of casual. He doesn’t even have the luxury of slow.
“There ain’t a ton of options for me,” Hikaru says with a heavy sigh, “especially as soon as anyone who doesn’t know me already finds out where I live. What girl with half a brain wants to live in Kubitachi? I ain’t exactly a catch now that we’re gettin’ too old t’ play around anymore.”
Nevermind that Yoshiki, who is older than him, is apparently quite comfortably playing around.
“It’ll work out,” Yoshiki reassures him easily. Emptily. A comforting cliche with no conviction behind it.
“Sure,” Hikaru agrees.
“If you ever find someone in Tokyo, I can point you to some nice hotels,” Yoshiki offers with apparent sincerity.
“Why?” Hikaru asks. “Ya live alone, ain’t like you can’t bring someone back t’ your place.”
“I don’t want people in my apartment,” he says with blunt finality. “It’s easier to go your separate ways from a hotel.”
Yoshiki’s phone buzzes again, and this time he picks it up, swift with anger, and tenses his jaw and screws up his face in frustration before taking a deep breath in, letting it out slowly, and turning his phone off entirely.
“What’s goin’ on there?” Hikaru wishes the phone was still on so that he might be able to take a peek. “School buggin’ you?”
“Just someone,” Yoshiki groans. Hikaru’s not too stupid to know that he means some guy. He tips his coffee mug back and Hikaru watches his throat working around swallowing the last few drops. “He keeps tryin’ to get me to go places with him and ignoring me saying I don’t want that sort of thing.”
“Why don’t ya block him?” Hikaru asks.
Yoshiki purses his lips for a moment and glances off to the side in consideration. He swivels his head to check their surroundings and confirm they’re still out of anyone’s earshot before turning back to Hikaru and holding his hands out in front of lap at a measured distance.
Hikaru nearly chokes on his toast and feels like he might even blush a bit. He supposes that, for someone with Yoshiki’s inclinations, that could be a compelling enough reason to put up with some bullshit. “Oh.”
“Yeah… School takes up most of my time still, so it’s easier if I don’t have to spend time trying to meet someone new every weekend, but—“
“Every weekend?”
Even with his voice raised, it doesn’t seem like anyone heard them. Still, Yoshiki shushes him on reflex.
“Obviously there are exceptions,” Yoshiki says rolling his eyes and gesturing toward Hikaru, who is here on a weekend. As if the issue here was Hikaru being pedantic.
“What’s it, fifty-somethin’ weeks a year?” Hikaru is too far gone with trying to quantify this particular revelation to stop now. He’s gotta check his work to make sure he understands right–that somehow Yoshiki, who he’s only ever known as quiet and moody and generally prudish, is getting astronomically more ass than he is. “So say you skip ten of ‘em, that’s still forty something’. And you've been here five years, right? So—“
“It ain’t been like this the whole time,” Yoshiki snaps. His accent is slipping. “Stop doin’ the math. What’s yer point?”
He considers it for a moment. “No point, I guess,” he concludes. “‘M just surprised is all. Ya were always so shy about that stuff.”
“I had to be,” Yoshiki says. He could’ve made it an accusation, and he could’ve looked hurt or angry or any number of ways when he said it, but the way he looks and sounds now he’s just stating a fact.
How many times had Yoshiki artfully redirected conversations about girls back in school? And how many times, after everyone found out about him, had he needed to endure invasive questioning from gawking peers. Whatever comments and questions Hikaru got when word first got around had to have been only a fraction of what he endured the rest of third year. If graduation hadn’t been only a few months away, Hikaru’s not sure Yoshiki would’ve actually made it over the finish line.
“Yeah,” Hikaru says, shrinking in his chair to brace for a deserved scolding. He watches himself roll the edge of his napkin with rapt attention. “I’m glad for ya. That you’re happier here.”
To his surprise, Yoshiki laughs. “Well, yeah. Hard not to be.”
“I can see why ya don’t visit more often,” Hikaru says, standing on the swaying local train. “What a pain in the ass.”
Yoshiki is riding with him to Tokyo Station with some flimsy excuse about going to a specialty shop in the area. He’d admitted almost immediately that it was also just to make sure that Hikaru doesn’t get lost. And to hang out a little longer.
“I’ve taken the night bus a couple times,” Yoshiki says, holding tight to the hand grip above his head, “but it’s miserable if you’re someone who can’t fall asleep on a bus. And it turns out I’m someone who can’t fall asleep on a bus.”
“Is it cheaper?”
“Not much.”
“Shit…”
This new, more mature Yoshiki refrains from making any comment as Hikaru scrambles to pick up a couple of souvenirs from within the station to bring home, but they share a look that contains a whole conversation. Hikaru knows he should’ve taken care of it before the last minute, and Yoshiki knows he knows, and he knows Yoshiki knows. So they don’t need to say it. There’s always been things they didn’t need to say, so it’s about time Hikaru narrowly slipping the noose of irresponsibility was one of them.
“Are you going to get lost finding your platform?” Yoshiki asks with only a fraction of the condescension he used to use.
“I got all the way here without ya backseat drivin’, don’t worry. I ain’t gonna end up in Hokkaido or nothin’. Although that’d be a good reason not to go to work t’morrow…”
Yoshiki reaches out and ruffles his hair. Hikaru tenses unconsciously with the realization that this is the first time he’s felt that once-familiar sensation since they were still in school together.
“Sorry,” Yoshiki says, jerking his hand back away from the presumed boundary he’s crossed.
“No,” Hikaru corrects quickly, “it just surprised me. ”
He wishes there was a way to ease the skeptical tilt of Yoshiki’s brow. He supposes there is.
With an awkwardness befitting the unfamiliarity of the gesture, Hikaru reaches out to wrap one arm around Yoshiki in a quick, tentative hug that he’s ready to spring back from at the slightest indication of Yoshiki’s discomfort. Yoshiki just laughs and wraps one of his arms around Hikaru in a quick echo of the half-hearted embrace, patting him on the back once, and Hikaru lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
After only a few parting words, Hikaru wends his way into the stream of people all filtering through the station to where they need to go as if by instinct. It’s disorienting how quickly he goes from standing beside Yoshiki, to waiting on his platform, to sitting aboard a bullet train bound for Nagoya.
It takes hardly any time at all to cross the bulk of the distance to get back home. With each transfer, the railways get smaller and slower, until finally it is night time and Hikaru is walking back to his car. At least the drive home gives him some control over his journey.
From the driveway, he sends Yoshiki a message that just reads, home.
Yoshiki acknowledges his message with a heart reaction, thanks him again for coming to visit, and wishes him a good night.