Chapter Text
The afternoon sun beats down on Akihiko's neck as he tosses his phone back and forth in his hands. He clicks the power button. It's almost five fifteen.
Hayato should be home soon.
With a huff of annoyance, he shifts around on the low cement wall where he's seated, tilting his head all the way back to look up at the bright, mid-afternoon sky. A car passes slowly on the road in front of him, rustling the wind up a little bit, but it's still hotter than he'd like it to be. He squints through his glasses at the apartments on the other side, then up and down the road, taking stock of various pedestrians. Nothing familiar yet. No deep scarlet work jacket, no tassels fluttering as he walks.
A new wave of anger rises in Akihiko's throat, but he swallows it. He doesn't want to be mad. And, like, he is, there's no getting around that, but he doesn't want to… Hayato doesn't need a lecture. He doesn't need to get yelled at, especially in as public a place as this; originally, Akihiko had planned to go right for the train station and wait there, but even just a discussion at the intensity they're likely to have it would attract attention. They might even get straight up recognized. Furin kids use that fucking train station, and so do a lot of the people they went to school with.
So, no. It'll have to be here, either on the street just outside or within the alley where their apartment building is located. And Akihiko's not letting him go up there without a thorough dressing down.
Scratching irately at the back of his head, he swipes open his phone, navigating to his messaging app as a distraction. Need a refresh on exactly how angry he's allowed to be. He had called Hayato, obviously, and several times, though not a single one connected. The third one didn't even ring long enough, the man having clearly just rejected the call instead of letting it seem like he wasn't able to answer. At least that was confirmation he was alive. The voice mail Akihiko left was kinda ramble-y, and maybe a bit more desperate than he'd have liked to come across as, but he'd hoped at the time that being as genuine and understanding as possible would communicate his and Haruka's willingness to just talk to Hayato. With no other good avenues of action and the hour growing late, however, there wasn't really anything to do but head for bed.
He'd knocked on Haruka's door and asked if she wanted to join him in the queen; when initially given a rejection, he'd gently pushed, positing that she was giving the answer she was supposed to instead of the truth. It hadn't taken long for her to give in and admit he was right. Which wasn't surprising — Akihiko's known her for five years, and lived with her for more than two, now. Of course he knew how to tell when she wasn't letting herself want things.
In the morning, he'd gotten up like usual, checking his phone and seeing nothing new from Hayato. One last plea for even a word, and then he'd turned the screen off and placed it on his computer desk, determined not to anxiously check it all day. Instead, he made breakfast, he got Haruka up and out of bed so she didn't rot in it all day, and he logged on for work while she wandered around, took a bath, fed the cats. Made a phone call. She ended up on the couch behind him, headphones on to not listen in on his work calls, doodling quietly in her sketchbook.
When Akihiko's alarm went off for lunch, Haruka offered to make it, wanting something else to focus on. He'd picked up his phone out of habit while she was in the kitchen.
One message notification from earlier in the morning, just after nine. Short and to the point.
I'm at the office. We'll talk when I get home.
There are no words to explain how infuriating that had been to read.
Haruka had watched him with alarm, as if he'd grown a second head, while he scrambled through the apartment for signs of the man's presence. They were, undeniably, there: his shoes switched out, a new set of clothes in the hamper, one of the turtlenecks missing from Hayato's side of the closet. The wall socket on his side of the bed — the one Haruka had been sleeping on — now bore his phone charger, which had been missing all weekend.
"I just need some air." That's what he'd told Haruka before he left. And he took his wallet and his fucking charger with him. It's a rare thing when Hayato tells a plain, bald-faced lie without the comedic intent of being caught, and this has to be one of his stupider reasons for doing so.
So, at some point very early this morning, he'd returned home, changed for work, put things back in their proper places and gathered his things, and then left the house again. All without waking either of them up. How he manages to make so little noise sometimes has always been a complete mystery, since Haruka can be a pretty light sleeper, and she definitely would have woken Akihiko if she'd been aware of Hayato's presence. Akihiko also wishes he'd had the chance to see the man's face when he came in the bedroom and saw them both there; Haruka needs to be under a lot of distress to go out of her way to sleep next to someone, and they both know that well. But, also, holy shit, what the fuck is his problem!?
He doesn't even usually go into the office on Mondays. It was literally just to avoid having a conversation earlier than he had to.
It's hard not to stew in the anger too long, let it boil over into a rage that makes Akihiko's hands shake. Again, he thinks it like a mantra: he doesn't want to be mad at Hayato. He doesn't like being angry at the people he loves, but the man makes it so, so hard sometimes to be calm and level-headed. The rationale he uses for his worst, most impulsive decisions has never failed to be some of the most bonkers, bad faith interpretations of, usually, Hayato's own wants and needs, twisted in a way that makes him the villain. And it's so stupid, because Akihiko knows better. Knows that getting him angry is what a small, irrational, terrified part of Hayato wants.
If Akihiko gets angry at him, it will make him more likely to say something insensitive or cruel. In turn, that will further justify Akihiko's anger, and maybe convince him to give up. To realize that Hayato isn't worth it. That he maybe never was.
So fucking stupid. Grumbling under his breath, Akihiko ducks his head down, ruffling his own hair violently; he can't let that idiot win. He has to keep himself under control.
"I see you're looking forward to this."
Akihiko nearly topples backwards off his seat from how quickly he shoots upright.
Standing just a few meters away, with his work bag slung over one shoulder and his coat tucked through that elbow, is Hayato. His posture is, as always, nearly perfect, even with one hand on the bag strap and the other at his side. His sleeves are even rolled down to his wrists. Despite the air of immaculacy, however, Akihiko can spot his tells, the way his fingers twitch and rub against each other in apprehension. The patch over his right eye is the one Haruka got him last year on his birthday, with leaf patterns pressed into the leather. As if that was going to gain him points.
His expression is subtly amused, brows raised and a wry smile hidden beneath the smooth curve of his lips. In his wine dark eye, the tension at its corner, Akihiko can see the anxiety lingering.
Recovering quickly, he gets to his feet, dusting off his pants and sticking his phone in a back pocket. Setting a stubborn but steady glare on his face, he turns, facing Hayato head on — or, as much as he can with their near ten centimeter height difference. "Do I even need to tell you how much of an asshole you are?"
Immediately, the man's face drops just a little bit of the facade. Everything softens, the smile more one of guilt than of laughter, his eye narrowing as he looks between each of Akihiko's own. "…No, I don't think you do," Hayato replies, and even his voice is quieter.
"…Good." A good portion of the wind has been rapidly taken from Akihiko's sails, but he stands his ground regardless. He does still want Hayato to understand the gravity of his actions. "I want to know what the hell you think you were doing this weekend. I want to know why you left Haruka completely alone for nearly forty-eight hours because of something you did."
For a long few moments, Hayato just stares at him, the corners of his lips dropping into a flat, featureless line. When he does speak, it's merely to quietly ask, "What did Haruka tell you?"
Akihiko folds his arms, swallowing down the guilt in his own throat, the bubbling fear that this'll be the time there are too many consequences and Hayato will run— No. There needs to be trust. Besides, this is for Haruka. This is for his own piece of mind, that she isn't minimizing things, that Hayato won't make himself out to be the bad guy on purpose. Taking a deep breath, he replies, "She said you two were drinking, and that you kissed her. And that you left."
Again, Hayato is silent for a while. Then, he sighs, a newly, openly guilty smile slanting his lips, and his gaze slides away from Akihiko's own. His fingers stretch and reclasp around the strap of his bag. "I suppose that's as accurate a description of events as I could've given, yeah." Eye closing, the man gives Akihiko an almost apologetic smile, one that draws a curtain in front of anything real that could be showing through. "Sometimes, people react to situations in ways even they don't expect."
"Bullshit," Akihiko snaps, stepping closer and lowering his voice as another car passes. No reason to let other people overhear an argument like this, even somewhat out of the way as they are. "You getting scared and running away isn't an unexpected reaction, not unless your self-awareness suddenly dropped straight into a gutter without me noticing."
That seems to get through Hayato's brick wall of an attitude, at least a little. He blinks, face falling expressionless once again in surprise, and, again, his fingers flex, though he tries to cover it by shifting the bag higher on his shoulder. Akihiko's getting pretty tired of the silences. "I…" Hayato stops. Won't quite meet Akihiko's gaze, though he resumes speaking after only a moment. "It was a very in-the-moment decision. The effects weren't clear, and, especially with alcohol involved, it seemed like some space was needed." A soft smile returns to his lips, hollow and made from brittle plastic. "For both of us."
As always. He's so full of shit Akihiko could laugh. "So, you were drunk and impulsive, and then you didn't want to face the consequences."
He can almost see Hayato's eye twitch. "I was drunk, yes." Now, his voice shakes, just slightly, and a stab of guilt again shoots through Akihiko's throat, cold as a sharpened icicle. "We both were. I didn't want to say something stupid while I was under the influence and make Haruka upset."
It doesn't matter. Akihiko has to ignore his anxiety, has to push past how much he wants to run, has to keep his feet planted and his voice steadier than Hayato's. "No. Of course you didn't want to make her upset. But, guess what, Hayato? You did anyways."
The man's jaw clenches as he swallows, visibly. "I know that."
"You don't, is the thing." Taking another step to be fully within Hayato's personal space, Akihiko glares up at him, again lowering his voice to an approximation of seething. "Yeah, yeah, you left her all alone, and she doesn't like being alone, and we made a promise never to let her be alone again, whatever. You did not see the apartment when I came home last night." The reminder stirs an ache in his chest, of how hollow Haruka had sounded, how tired she looked. How scared she clearly was. "She was barely taking care of herself, let alone the cats, and I still have no idea how much of that time she spent drinking. She basically didn't leave the apartment once. I had to drag her out of bed this morning and make her eat, because if I didn't, I doubt I would've seen her at all."
At first, Hayato merely looks taken aback by the close proximity, but as Akihiko speaks, his expression changes. A subtle alarm sneaks into his eye before nearly all at once being replaced by that solid wall of neutrality, lips set in a thin line, barely a single crease in the skin. His favorite mask: the calm, rational adult. There's a cold front behind it, though, one Akihiko knows well. He can't nail down the exact maelstrom of complicated emotions being shoved into a box back there, but he at least knows they exist.
That's more than can be said of most people.
Again, Hayato is silent. It's a harsher silence from before, a calculated silence, as he watches Akihiko fume. "…Did she hurt herself?" he asks, quietly, his voice giving a real good attempt at sounding emotionless and practical.
Akihiko huffs out a sigh, forcing himself to relax just a bit; Hayato cares, of course he cares, it's just hard to see that sometimes past the layers of self-imposed detachment. "No, I don't think so. I didn't see anything suspicious when she went into the bath this morning, but…" He narrows his eyes as the other man twitches, his head turning slightly to the left to put Akihiko further into his blind spot. Hayato's gaze sticks on nothing across the street.
"We'll keep an eye on it," he murmurs, finishing Akihiko's sentence. That's really not as cute as he thinks it is.
"You're impossible, you know that?" The man doesn't react, beyond a blink of his eyelashes, barely visible across the bridge of his nose. "This is so much worse than if you had just said something stupid. Like, please, tell me you get that."
The corner of Hayato's lips quirks up sardonically. "I am starting to, yeah."
"You should've—" Akihiko bites down on the words, on his lip, to stop himself. No, that's not right. He doesn't want to yell at Hayato, and there's no point talking about what should have happened, because no amount of that is going to change the situation. And when Hayato does see how Haruka is acting, he'll have to understand the gravity of what he did. What's important here is— "What was the logic behind this? Like, I know you were drunk, but— I'm not that stupid, Hayato. You absolutely could have waited."
Shoulders finally sinking with a heavy sigh, the man turns his head back, tilting it slightly to the side. The expression he wears is one of exhaustion, one which communicates that his well of patience is rapidly drying up, which is a fairly remarkable feat on Akihiko's part. Hayato's patience is pretty vast. However, given that he was definitely smoking on his walk back from the station — the scent of cigarettes hangs around like smog, as it has more often than usual the past few months — it probably shouldn't be that surprising how short his temper is right now. He's been driving himself crazy for two and a half days. "Is knowing going to make you feel better? Is it going to change how thoroughly ruined my chances are?" The smile following that question is downright poisonous. "Better to quit while we're ahead, don't you think?"
"What are you talking about?" Akihiko asks, genuinely bewildered. "It's not about any of that. Are you stupid?" Damn, he's starting to get upset again. He really doesn't want to cry from frustration like last night, especially not in front of Hayato. "I'm trying to help you, you idiot! I don't want—" Groaning, Akihiko shoves his glasses up to grind palms into his eyelids, patterned bursts of light filling the darkness behind them.
"…It's okay, Aki." Removing his hands, he glares daggers into Hayato's face. The man only responds with a tired smile, the sarcasm drained from his eye and replaced only with more hollow sadness, the same kind Akihiko had found in mismatched celestial colored irises the night before. "This is my problem. I hurt her, and I have to atone for it."
"Ugh, shut up." Taking off his glasses entirely and tucking them into his shirt pocket, Akihiko places his hands squarely on his hips, leveraging all forty-five centimeters of his shoulder width to… something. Intimidate? Make the other man take his side of the argument seriously, for once? "You always do this. You say something reasonable-sounding, and then you follow it up with some weird nonsense so no one questions the legitimacy of the first thing. And don't try to tell me I'm reaching," he rushes, cutting Hayato off before the man's opened his mouth more than a centimeter. "This is categorically not just your problem, because it's also Haruka's, and because I live with you. And second—"
"You living with us is exactly why it's my problem," Hayato interrupts, cutting through the beginning of Akihiko's lecture. His eye is hardened, gleaming in the fading afternoon light like a beetle's shell, and his lips are set in a stubborn line. "You've put up with enough over the years as it is. And, especially since I left Haruka for you to discover when you came home, it wouldn't be out of line for you to—"
It's Akihiko's turn to interrupt. "You say that, but you keep acting like you had no idea what effect your disappearing act would have on Haruka." The other man's lips seal shut again, his shoulders visibly dropping back as he braces. "Again, I know you're not that stupid."
"Oh, you do, do you?" A bite of real poison creeps into the background of Hayato's voice, and some kind of bright, searing gleam enters his eye. His lips curl in an almost leering smile. "I think you have a lot more faith in me than you should, Akihiko-kun. Why couldn't she have called someone? I gave her space so she could talk to someone else about what happened, without the threat of my presence." Hayato's words speed up, his mouth a rail gun filled with self-hatred. "I'm sure my not being there was a comfort. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't want me home at all, to be fully honest, and I wouldn't blame her for being afraid of—"
Akihiko grabs the front of his turtleneck and pulls. Whatever further weaponized speech Hayato has saved up in the tank catches inside his throat, cut off by the sudden physical contact as Akihiko pulls him down into a tight hug, makes him stumble with the force of it. "Shut. Up." There is as much shaky stubbornness as Akihiko can manage in the demand, his fingers shoved up into Hayato's hair. "Stop pulling away. Stop trying to save us from yourself."
There's silence. Hayato's body is rigid in Akihiko's arms. The man doesn't necessarily enjoy hugs, or heavy amount of physical affection, especially in public. But that's honestly half the point. At least he's not still insulting himself. At least he's not still framing his behavior as that of a monster's.
Squeezing gently, Akihiko turns his face into Hayato's neck, despite how thick the smell of cigarette smoke is. It doesn't entirely hide the faint scent of his cologne, earthy and herbal. Grounding. "She just wants you to apologize," Akihiko mumbles, and feels the man twitch. "I know you feel like shit about it, and the way to fix it is to talk to her." Finally, he pulls away, letting Hayato shift back on his heels and gain a little personal space back. "Okay?"
At first, the man's eye is closed, twitching for a moment before it flicks open, staring down at Akihiko's shirt. His shoulders curve in, his head bowed forward. When his gaze moves up to meet Akihiko's own, it's through his lashes, and with a vacant expression that struggles to maintain its grasp on his facial muscles. Slowly, he lifts himself, puts his posture back together.
Hayato takes a full, deep breath, released through his lips, his eye closed once more. When it opens, he looks… more stable. Maybe.
"…Okay." His voice is low. The hand on his bag strap has a far tighter grip, now. On the other, his thumb flexes as he digs the nail in and out of his finger. "An apology… is something I can do."
Reaching forward, Akihiko carefully slips his hand into Hayato's, preventing him from continuing to hurt himself. "I know it's scary to apologize when you know you've hurt someone, but it also allows them the space to forgive you. Right?"
A softness reenters Hayato's face as he glances briefly down to their joined hands. When his eye return to Akihiko's, he searches it for just a moment before letting out another small, almost indulgent sigh. The ghost of a smile lingers on his lips. "Would it make you upset to hear that you sound like Hajime-san?"
There's no way to keep the wry smile from curling up one corner of Akihiko's own mouth. "I'll take it as a compliment," he snarks back, not unkindly. Turning, he steps back, pulling Hayato's hand with him in a soft tug, encouraging him to follow. "C'mon, let's go up. Don't wanna make her wait longer than we have to, yeah? You know how she is, the anxiety's probably eating her alive."
The smile on Hayato's lips is fairly sad, but he still huffs a short chuckle before hoisting his bag a little higher. "I suppose I've caused her enough agony for the time being."
Akihiko's lips twist in some disappointment, but he can't find it in him to directly deny the claim. He just hates hearing Hayato blame himself for things. Even if it's justified. The man's done so much of that in his life already that it sets off empathy sparks in Akihiko's brain, just out of habit. However… this calls for it. He can stew a while longer. Actually, that reminds him… "Speaking of eating, by the way, when was the last time you did that?"
As Akihiko pauses, so does Hayato, and he blinks once before discomfort bleeds, clear as day, into his expression. The corners of his lips turn up, but it's far too wobbly to be anything but guilty. "…Would you believe me if I said it was this morning?"
Raising his eyebrows in sardonic disbelief, Akihiko lets the man interpret the expression on his own for a moment before speaking. "No."
Hayato's eye glances away, no longer able to meet Akihiko's gaze. "…Then, I won't say that."
There's not much he can do right this moment except sigh, even though he knows he shouldn't. It's not helpful to be disappointed by relapses. Even if they're long term, only noticeable as a problem to Akihiko and Haruka, and only because they have a tendency to watch Hayato's eating habits like hawks. He's been faltering a lot recently, and the two of them don't have eyes on him all the time, so they can only really ensure he's eating sometimes by making the food for him themselves ahead of time. And there are only some work nights one of them has time to make a bento.
Regardless, Akihiko tries to recover quick. "Okay. Well, let's go upstairs, you'll apologize and talk to her and whenever she decides what's to be done with you, I'll make dinner. And no half portions," he adds, pointing a threatening finger towards Hayato before tugging on his hand once more and starting for the alley.
Without complaint, the man follows. He doesn't release Akihiko's hand, staying just a step behind as they walk, and despite everything that's happened, his presence there is a comfort. Always has been.
Their apartment building entrance is only a few meters down the alleyway, and Akihiko punches in the door code with little ceremony. As he tugs Hayato through into the lobby, the man very openly dragging his feet even as his posture remains upright, Akihiko half-turns to give him a pointed look. "Also, for the record," he drawls, pulling Hayato's attention back out of his head. "You and I both know Haruka was never gonna call anybody about this. I don't know why you thought I'd buy that."
It takes a moment for the words to register, for the faraway look to be cleared from Hayato's blinking eye. Once he's present, he again chuckles through his nose, gaze averting in what could be described as humorous self-deprecation, if Akihiko weren't uniquely capable of seeing the shame beneath. "Well, I was being an ass on purpose. And, I dunno." He shrugs good-naturedly, earring tassels fluttering as his step lilts. "She complains to Mitsuki about me all the time, so they were a distinct possibility."
Akihiko glares back at him. "And if she had, you would've heard about it. Because Mitsuki would have tracked you down, and they would have yelled at you." He hits the button for the elevator, and Hayato finally lets go of his hand to reach into his own bag. His keys jingle together inside. "They also would have called me. And Haruka didn't want either of those things to happen."
For the same reason she herself was never going to call him. If Akihiko had gotten that phone call, he would have apologized profusely to his Baachan and withstood the disappointed looks from his mom, but he would have grabbed all his stuff, said his goodbyes, and taken the first train back home. He loves his family dearly, despite his older — and very married — sister's pointed comments on his love life, but this is more important.
And that's just not something Haruka can allow. Even so many years removed from the alienation and violence of her childhood, in her mind, to inconvenience someone is to bring harm upon herself, and not flinching at the prospect is easier said than for her to do. And to interrupt Akihiko's holiday, his vacation further out in the country, with her own stupid (and very, very real) problems? She would actually rather die. It would be akin to… to breaking something. Like when she dropped and shattered a plate at their first apartment and had a complete meltdown. Not because she broke something, but because her first instinct was to brace for one of them to hit her, and the guilt from thinking of them like that had her hyperventilating like a terrified prey animal.
So, no. She wasn't going to call anyone. Even someone like Jo, level-headed and calm as she is, would have acted, had she known the situation. Maybe just to come over and be with Haruka, so she wasn't alone. But that would still be too much.
…Then again, it's probably really, really good that she didn't call Jo. Again, a very relaxed woman! And Akihiko respects her a great deal, more than he could probably express in words. But she is still scary when she's mad.
And he's not sure what her opinion is vis-á-vis the truce.
Thankfully, Hayato doesn't speak on their way up, either, understandably turning gears in his own head. Likely trying to figure out how to start the conversation. Should Akihiko be here for this? If it's gonna be, like… a love confession… maybe he should leave them alone. He's not exactly involved, outside of living in the same apartment. And being their friend.
Oh, gods. If they get together, is he gonna have to find a new place to live? Are they gonna want their own space?
The anxious spiraling lasts him up to the front door of their apartment, the scratched wood and peeling sealant, the metal numbers 301 hanging just above Akihiko's eye level; the third digit has been crooked since they moved in. On the other side, Haruka is most likely running around like a chicken with her head cut off, fidgeting like crazy and trying to distract herself. She knows they're both coming. Most likely, she's also been running conversation scenarios in her head, damn near all afternoon. Not that she has as much information on the situation as Hayato, so who knows where she's imagining this confrontation going.
With one last side long glance to his companion, who's blank gaze is directed away towards whatever is inside his own head, Akihiko unlocks the door, pushing it open a few centimeters and pausing. No little furry heads try to shove their way through, so he opens it further and shuffles inside, making room for Hayato to also slip past. The door thunks closed, and the sound of bare feet on the hardwood draws both of their attention.
Haruka appears mostly the same as Akihiko left her. A baby blue t-shirt and a thin pair of sweats, dual-colored hair still damp from the bath that falls about her shoulders in loose curls as she stops in the doorway of the kitchen. Her arms hang deliberately still at her sides, her lips pressed in a thin line. There's tension at the corners of her eyes. They land and stay on Hayato, even as the man is turned partially away, hanging up and brushing off his work coat and procrastinating returning the gaze. It makes Haruka's eyes narrow still further.
He sure takes his sweet time coming up with something to say. Hayato sets his bag down, begins rolling up his sleeves, and still, he looks down at himself, doesn't deign to glance across at the woman staring his way. If Akihiko were a little further away and a little less observant, it would probably come across as rude, like the man didn't respect her time. But his fingers tremble. It's a lot more visible than he'd probably like it to be. As is the way he takes a very quiet and deliberate breath in.
At last, he lifts his gaze to Haruka's face. He smiles, a small, guilty thing, and he clasps his hands behind his back; Akihiko can tell it's for comfort. "Hello, Haruka," Hayato murmurs, voice very carefully steady. "…I'm glad you're alright."
The woman's expression doesn't improve. Her frown simply deepens, and she winds her arms across herself in a half-hug. "No thanks for that."
Hayato actually visibly winces at the words, blinking and obviously trying hard not to look away. "…That's fair. I… do recognize that what happened wasn't right, that it… hurt you. You shouldn't have been left alone for so long."
Even Akihiko can feel his irritation growing. He's keeping his mouth shut, for now; Hayato needs to make his own bed, not fall back on Akihiko's easy sincerity as a crutch. But listening to the man dig still further, talk in tiptoe around the real problem and obscure where fault lies through vagueness, is gonna give him a headache.
For her part, Haruka just waits. Akihiko's actually rather surprised with how patient she's being, although on further inspection, the way her cheeks flex means she's definitely clicking the stud in her tongue against her teeth. It's a bad habit, and he should probably say something— "What I— What I mean to say is…" His gaze shoots back across to Hayato. "I… I am sorry. For…" The man simply can't do it, and his eyes fall to the floor. Shoulders hunching just slightly, his hands swing around to cross in front, and he actually gives a small bow. "I'm sorry for running. And not coming back. It was cruel and unnecessary, and you don't deserve to be treated that way."
…Well, damn.
Akihiko bites his tongue hard. He waits, as Hayato does, the man's gaze still downcast, for Haruka to respond, to snap at him, to forgive him, whatever. And for a moment, she does none of that, still frozen in place in the doorway, fingers tight around her arms. Then, she takes a step forward. Then another, and another, steadily pacing until she's within a half meter of them both, where she stops.
Hayato's face does not lift. His earrings dangle in front of his shoulders, barely moving as he breathes.
With a single swift movement, Haruka raps the top of his head with her knuckles.
The man lets out what sounds, to Akihiko's ears, like an incredibly undignified squeak. He flinches back, lifting a hand to rub at the spot where he was assaulted and blinking owlishly, and he may actually be completely speechless for once. Her face gently tinged pink, Haruka folds her arms properly, managing to look at least sort of genuinely angry, and huffs. "You're a dickhead. I reserve the right to be mad at you for a couple more days. Then… I dunno." She scuffs a foot against the wood floor, looking a little more bashful. "I guess I can forgive you."
Arms falling to his sides once more, Hayato stands up straight, gazing at her with his head gently cocked to the side. There is something so unbelievably soft in there, so much fondness and melancholy in the lines of his face and the curve of his lips that Akihiko feels legitimately a little nauseous. "…Are you sure? I'd understand if your trust in me is… faltering."
"Yeah, and it's my decision whether I change my damn mind," Haruka counters almost immediately. "And I've decided that, in a couple days, once I'm done bein' mad at you, I'm gonna trust ya again."
For a long few moments, Hayato is silent, a kind of wonder taking over his features as the seconds slip by. Then, all at once, he swiftly gathers himself, hands settling behind his back as a familiar shut-eyed smile spreads itself across his face. "You always have been far too gracious for your own good," he crows, and Akihiko can already feel his hackles twitching upwards. That's his fucking teasing voice. "Not that I won't be taking the offer, of course; I am fundamentally a rather greedy bastard. And not getting to see your cute blushing face for nearly three full days was starting to drive me insane."
Predictably, and likely exactly as the man had intended, Haruka's cheeks instantly brighten to a fiery red. She smacks him on the shoulder several times, which he weathers with a grin. "Grrrr, you suck so bad! I didn't even miss you, I'll have you know!"
"Aww, not even a little? I'm hurt, Haruka, truly. Deeply wounded. It may be lethal."
"Good! Then I wouldn't have to see your stupid smug face anymore!"
Hayato simply smiles, shoulders trembling with controlled little chuckles. Growling with embarrassment, though still blushing furiously, Haruka turns around and stomps back into the kitchen, and the sound of the refrigerator opening is almost violent. An alarm pings in Akihiko's head, and he scrambles to recompose himself after wordlessly watching the interaction. He kinda feels like a creep, if he's honest. "Uh, Haruka, we should— What do you want for dinner?"
"Ugh, I don't care!" she calls back, clattering around with whatever snack she's preparing. "It's your turn, and you know I'll eat whatever you make. Hayato has to do the dishes by himself, though!"
The man in question winces through a smile when Akihiko shoots him a glance, but doesn't verbally argue with that decree. He turns back round, hunching down to dig back into his work bag for a couple of things, and with these clear indications that the confrontation is over, Akihiko lets out a long sigh of relief. Whether it needed to happen or not, he doesn't like it when things blow up like this. However…
As Hayato stands back up, flicking through his carrying notebook and clicking the pen out, Akihiko steps closer once more, right by his shoulder. He makes sure his voice is quiet, at a level only the two of them could make out. Haruka may not be particularly nosy, and Akihiko kinda already told her this, but it's still best to use discretion. "You forgot something."
"…Hm?" Hayato hums, pausing with the pen nub hovering over the page. He strikes down a bullet point, then flips the page, scanning across it before scratching some characters in.
Crossing his arms, Akihiko fixes the man with an unimpressed glare. "Don't, 'Hm?' me, you know what I'm talking about." The man taps his pen against the page rhythmically, clearly stalling for time on getting out of this conversation. Akihiko grits his teeth and lowers his voice still further. "You kissed her, Hayato. Don't wanna get into that at all? Don't wanna resolve that for her, maybe be honest with her for once?"
"I was honest," Hayato murmurs back. "I didn't want to hurt her, but I did. So, I apologized. That is what you asked of me, right?"
Why is he always like this? Running, weaseling, obfuscating and minimizing and being just… such a fucking coward. "Are you serious?" Akihiko hisses, feeling his anger rise like a wave once again. Damn it. "To the letter and nothing more? What do you really think is gonna happen if you—"
"Has it never occurred to you that I simply may not want to tell her?" Hayato interrupts, low and sharp and venomous. His head turns, fixing Akihiko with a blank glare, carefully controlled, nearly emotionless save for the tightness at his eye. "That I've weighed my options and chosen to keep things as they are for a reason? For what may be a very good reason, if you would only save your judgment?"
The man's lips curl slightly up, but his smile is joyless and strained. His eye is wide, deep maroon piercing into Akihiko's skull with an energy hovering behind it that borders on mania. As if Akihiko were an especially dangerous opponent. How many years has it been since he was last the target of an expression like that, and from Hayato in specific? It's jarring. Why is he so scared of this? Has he really spun it so deep into his head that changing their relationship is this bad?
However, even past the sensation of fear spiking Akihiko's anxiety straight into the front of his brain, his anger doesn't subside. A sense of déjà vu, as well, fuels its continued presence, because this level of response— I think they may take your willingness to put up with a lot from them for granted, rings in his head, in the low, concerned tones of their former chief. Hajime's smile had been sad, but not unkind, sat next to Akihiko as he gulped down his soup in frustration and anguish. They're probably too caught up in their own heads to even realize they're doing it. Sorry, Nirei, but you might need to set a boundary.
Stupid older brother figures and their good advice. Even a year and a half later, and Akihiko still feels his hands shaking a little bit as he takes a deep breath in. He tries to school his expression as serious as he can manage. "Please don't take that kind of tone with me," he murmurs, trying to enunciate despite his trembling lips. "Especially after this weekend. I love you, but I'm not gonna take that."
Hayato's expression instantly drops, swept clean off his face as it's rapidly replaced by a quiet, subtle shame that Akihiko can only read because their noses are within twenty centimeters of each other. The hand holding the pen goes slightly slack, and after a moment, Hayato closes the book around it, looking away. He tilts them towards his chest, holding them close with both hands. "I— Yes. You're right." Glancing back just once, he finishes, "I'm sorry."
Shoulders going slack, Akihiko loosely hugs himself, feeling an ache in his chest. Second genuine, verbal apology from Hayato in as many hours. That's… honestly kind of impressive. "Look, I'm not… trying to make you do anything." He glances over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, but Haruka is definitely still in there; he can hear her shifting around, fabric moving. "But, I think the cat's outta the bag in regards to whether or not you tell her. She basically knows." Hayato's eye slips shut, brow tightening inwards. The man definitely hated hearing that. "It's just a matter of… how you make it explicit, I guess. Or you could just do nothing, and let her assume the worst possible thing. That's also an option."
Another sardonic little smile slides across the man's face, as his gaze falls to the lineup of shoes by the front door. "Whatever she imagines can't be worse than the truth," he whispers, as if without thinking. Then, he blinks, and turns his gaze firmly back on Akihiko. There's a more genuine, if wobbly, smile on his face. "I have to… figure some things out. But I will talk to her. Soon."
…Well. It's better than nothing. Akihiko's lips purse with frustration, but he doesn't force it, or ask for some sort of timeline. Trust. There's gotta be an amount of trust, that he doesn't have to hold Hayato's hand through this whole thing despite his own inexperience, that he doesn't have to be a chaperone to his two poorly socialized best friends lest they blow up their relationship for literally no reason. He'd do it. Rest assured, if it became necessary, he would fucking do it. Because he loves them. Because he would have no choice.
But that doesn't mean he actively wants to. Or that he wouldn't have the right to complain as much as he'd damn well like.
"…Okay," is all he says. There's not much else to say, not with an assurance like that, and Akihiko's starting to feel pretty nauseous at this point. He'd better think properly about dinner plans before his appetite vanishes entirely.
As he pulls away, moving to the computer to pull up his Dinner Decision List and roll something random, and Hayato flips his notebook open again, Haruka finally leaves the kitchen. She does peek around the doorway first, and Akihiko tries to minimize his wince; she for sure heard them talking. How much she made out, he can't know. For what it's worth, all she does is plop down onto the couch with her small bowl of kani salad, fumbling a little with her chopsticks and putting her headphones back in. Not without a long, searching look towards Hayato, though. Who knows whether she finds anything. Her eyes drop to her food.
Before Hayato can retreat to the bedroom, a notification pops up on Akihiko's screen, one that makes a new emotion flood his stomach, though a no less familiar one. In fact, he felt it this morning, too, when he got the first notification for this particular event on their combined calendars, and it had been unfortunately necessary to remind Haruka. And now… "Hayato, hang on."
The man stops less than a meter down the hallway, turning partially back with a thinly veiled look of exhaustion. Haruka, too, in Akihiko's periphery, looks up, then clicks the pause on her headphones, a wary look taking over her face as he glances her way. Only briefly, as Hayato a little brusquely asks, "…Yes?"
"Oh, it's not— I'm not continuing—" Clearing his throat, Akihiko ignores the dread in his gut, the ache of it gnawing away. "Have you messaged Jo at all today?"
A small look of surprise replaces all else on Hayato's face, before confusion pinches at his brow. "…No. Did something—? I haven't heard from…" Slowly, a dawning realization takes over his features, his eye widening, and an uncomfortable little smile twitches at his mouth. "…What's the date?"
"Thirteenth."
Hayato full-face winces, eye shutting tight. He hums — groans, more — and taps his fingers anxiously against his notebook. "Right. I'll… I'll make sure to do that." For a moment, he pauses, clearly thinking about something that makes him deeply uncomfortable, before throwing Akihiko a remarkably nervous look. His voice is almost a mumble when he asks, "And, when's the party?"
"Saturday," Akihiko replies, trying to ignore how it makes his stomach churn. No way are they backing out of going to Jo's fucking birthday party, not without being the biggest assholes imaginable, but he's really not looking forward to… Well. The questions.
"…Excellent." With that as his final word, Hayato vanishes down the hallway towards their bedrooms.
Dragging his hands down his face, Akihiko takes a moment to slump over his elbows on the desk, heaving a long, haggard sigh. This sucks. Everything about this sucks. As much as Haruka may have essentially already forgiven Hayato, and as much as Hayato has partially promised to resolve things "soon", that doesn't mean the vibes aren't — and won't continue to be — extremely awful. Haruka feels weird around Hayato because she doesn't fully understand his intentions, or her own feelings towards him. Hayato feels weird around her because he can't allow himself to just want things, it always has to be the biggest production possible, because desire is so heavily associated with guilt in his stupid brain. And Akihiko is trapped in the middle of it, torn between his desires to keep them all together and his desires to be angry at Hayato. Torn between his impulse to force the issue and his crippling anxiety about overstepping. He's already done that enough, but with both of them being so fucking stubborn about it…
Audibly, he groans into his hands, though he keeps it fairly quiet. In retrospect, maybe he should have expected this sort of thing; maybe he should have even expected it to happen now, of all times. So many damn things happen in this town, in their friend circle, in spring, and the next month is going to be a nightmare to navigate, but at the same time, that's likely partially why Hayato did this now. So many things changed so rapidly: they moved into their current apartment late last summer, Haruka told them she was a woman barely two months later, and then she started hormones pretty soon after—
For a beat, Akihiko pauses. His brain stalls. An adjacent thought cuts in and derails his entire train.
…Hormones she gets from Endo fucking Yamato.
He turns swiftly over his shoulder to stare at her, not quite expecting to immediately meet dual-colored irises peering his way curiously. Haruka blinks, her shoulders twitching, and she removes an earbud. "Hey, you know I already called her earlier! Don't look at me like that!"
"No, that's—" Scoffing out a sigh, Akihiko waves his hand apologetically, twisting back around to look at his screen. She's an adult, he needs to remember that. Not his business. "Never mind."
The sensation of her looking at him remains for a long moment, but he resists the urge to check. Instead, he grabs the mouse to continue what he was doing, though he does pull up the calendar first to check what else is planned soon. Jo's birthday today… Sakae's is in a week and a half. And then Kanji. And then Taiga…
…Fuuuuuck. Sakae Momijikawa. Akihiko had briefly forgotten that particular ticking time bomb. It's only been a few weeks since he returned to Makochi for good, now that his apprenticeship is completed, and his machine shop is nearly ready to open. Which is great! Genuinely, Akihiko's really happy for him. And plenty of the folks in town that Akihiko runs into when he goes out have mentioned it, and how nice it'll be to have someone close to home who can do that kind of work.
What is less nice, at least for Akihiko's sanity, is the fact that every passing day marks one less between now and whenever Sakae confesses to Haruka himself. It was honestly a little startling when he didn't do it the second he saw her again.
And Kotoha just came back from university, too… Damn it all. Damn it all! Absolute worst time for this.
Maybe he should talk to his therapist about a dosage increase.