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Toujou stops and turns around when hears a snatch of a familiar melody. It was evening and he sees only people returning home, or going out for some late entertainment. No sight of anybody playing the guitar. He cranes his neck, frowning at his apartment building. It couldn’t be, could it?
Toujou enters the building and steps inside the lift. The lift doors close and he watches the numbers light up one by one with a growing sense of trepidation. When the lift stops at his floor, he can hear the melody again. Still faint, but clearer than before. Toujou quickly walks to his door. The melody is coming from inside his apartment and he knows for certain who’s playing it.
He opens the door and there he is, sitting on the windowsill. Hayakawa is strumming his guitar, humming softly, hat obscuring his eyes.
“Hayakawa,” Toujou says, taking a step forward. It’s the only thing he can think to say. Hayakawa inevitably turned up during cases, but this… it had been a long time since he’d done this.
Hayakawa stops playing the guitar. He tips his hat up with a finger and smiles. It’s a familiar smile, one that Toujou thinks could undo him. “Welcome back,” he says.
The ice breaks. Toujou takes his shoes off with haste, noting with surprise that Hayakawa’s boots were already in the entrance. He finds himself standing in front of Hayakawa, smiling harder than he has all week. The smile dims for a second as he considers the situation. “Did you pick the lock?” he says.
“I couldn’t sit on your doorstep, could I?” Hayakawa says, grinning at him.
Well, at least he didn’t scale the building, Toujou thinks. It wouldn’t be the most inadvisable and dramatic thing Hayakawa had ever done, and Toujou is absolutely certain he would have done it if he’d already gotten home.
Hayakawa tries to stand up but falters, palm against the windowsill and other hand gripping his guitar far too tightly. Toujou is immediately flooded with worry. “What’s wrong?” he says, hands coming up in preparation to support him.
“I may have… had an accident,” Hayakawa says, wincing as he tries to stand again. Toujou quickly takes the guitar from him, propping it against the wall, and helps him stand. With his assistance, Hayakawa makes it over to the couch and he collapses onto it with a sigh of relief.
“Let me see,” Toujou says. Hayakawa takes his jacket and waistcoat off without argument, which deepens Toujou’s worry. He’d been expecting at least some token resistance. He undos the last few buttons of his shirt and flips the hem up to reveal a bandage wrapped around his abdomen. The right side of it was soaked in bright red blood. Given how haphazard it looked, he guessed it was Hayakawa’s hasty handiwork.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Hayakawa says.
“Why didn’t you get this treated?” Toujou says in dismay.
“I was in a hurry!” Hayakawa protests.
“To see me?” Toujou says, disbelieving.
“Yes?” Hayakawa says. Toujou clearly heard the silent, ‘Well, obviously’.
Toujou angrily strides to the kitchen, shaking his head. He pulls the first aid kit out of the cupboard and leans against the counter, eyes closed and head bowed. He didn’t understand Hayakawa. Sometimes he thought he did, but then he goes and does something like this.
When he comes back, Hayakawa is looking expectantly at him. Toujou busies himself in the task of cleaning the wound, disinfecting it, and applying a new bandage. Thoughts swirl around in his head, longing to come out, but he doesn’t let them. Getting into an argument with Hayakawa is the last thing he wants to do when he’s injured.
When Hayakawa finishes swallowing down a hefty dose of painkillers, Toujou helps him to the bedroom. “I get to lie on your bed, already? I haven’t taken you on a date yet,” Hayakawa says, the grin returning.
Toujou feels his face flush. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “You’re in need of rest.”
“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places than a couch, you know,” Hayakawa says.
“I know,” Toujou says wearily. He firmly guides Hayakawa onto the bed before he can protest any further. The sheets rustle as Hayakawa makes himself comfortable and he takes his hat off, resting it against his chest.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” he says.
“Says the uninvited guest,” Toujou says, snorting. He sits at the end of the bed, facing away from him. The sun has almost set, the orange rays of the sunset filtering through the half-closed window blinds. When he’d left the station, he hadn’t thought his evening would turn out like this.
“You’re always welcome in my house,” Hayakawa says. Toujou can hear the pout, and he smiles.
“You have a house?” Toujou says.
“Well, it’s more a house that’s loaned to me. I can take you there on your next holiday, if you’d like,” Hayakawa says.
Toujou can hear the hope in his voice and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He hesitates, mulling over how to answer. “I’d planned on visiting my family,” he finally says.
“Ah, that’s alright. Family comes first,” Hayakawa says easily.
Toujou wants to say yes. He’s reluctant to think about why he wants to say yes. Hayakawa nudges him with his foot. “Come here,” he says.
Toujou gets up, suddenly feeling nervous. Hayakawa beckons him closer and Toujou is hovering over him, warm brown eyes looking at him. Hayakawa puts a hand on his shoulder, pulling him even closer, and places his hat on his head. “You look marvelous,” he says, sounding satisfied.
Toujou can’t help laughing, shunting away an odd sense of disappointment. Hayakawa laughs too and a warm feeling settles in Toujou’s heart, feeling like it’d always been there.
“Get some rest,” Toujou says, taking the hat off and putting it on the nightstand. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
The next time he checks on Hayakawa, he’s fast asleep. He looks tired, but he also looks… content. Toujou sits at the kitchen counter, cup of tea in his hands, also feeling weary. He would easily admit that Hayakawa was a gigantic headache. But, the thought of him no longer being present in his life made his heart ache.
It is when he’s almost finished his cup of tea that he remembers. He’d have to go to the station to check the case file, but he is certain that it’s been one year since that day. This is why Hayakawa had been so insistent on seeing him today.
He enters the bedroom and sleepy eyes peer at him. He pulls the chair from his desk, sitting next to Hayakawa. “Have you gone to his grave?” he asks quietly.
Hayakawa looks tiredly at him, no trace of a smile on his face. “I have. Afterwards, I was on my way to see you when I got into an… altercation.”
“You didn’t have to push yourself,” Toujou says.
Hayakawa laughs softly, eyes closing. “But I wanted to see you,” he says.
It is silent for a few minutes. It is a heavy silence, weighed down by the past. Toujou finally says, “I would ask you not to leave during the night, but I know it’d be futile.”
The corners of Hayakawa’s mouth turn up. “You know me. The eternal wanderer.”
Toujou does know him, which is exactly the problem.
In the morning, Hayakawa is gone. On the nightstand is one of his signature Zubat cards, saying, ‘The offer to visit my place is still on the table, if you’re interested.’
The next time he sees Hayakawa, Toujou will say yes.