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While he does pray at Shinto and Buddhist shrines like everyone else, Shigeru doesn't claim to be part of any religion in particular. Being polytheistic is just something that's the norm here. There's not a lot of people he knows who practice one religion exclusively or claim to be part of one above another.
Well, except for Kentarou.
It make sense. His mother is American, so while he does pray the same as everybody else in the country, he does admit to claiming a fair degree of Christianity above any other practiced in Japan. He doesn't go to Sunday service anymore like he had before they graduated high school, though that has to deal more with tension between him and his pastor.
Shigeru doesn't understand it, not really. What he does understand is the high importance of Christmas. Like, Christ is in the name. Serious shit. Rather than being just another holiday for couples like Shigeru was raised to believe, it holds a lot more weight for Kentarou.
So when Shigeru feels the mattress give and hears the open and shutting of the closet in their room, he kind of gets it, especially given what's been going on recently.
He blinks rapidly in an attempt to rid the sleep from his eyes as he scans the room. His gaze lands on Kentarou as he pulls on a white button up, groggily asking, “Where're you going?”
Kentarou yawns, “Church.”
Shigeru nods, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He glances at the clock. It's four in the morning. “Does service normally start this early?”
“I'm not going to service. Just gonna have a chat with the Man upstairs about something.”
Ah. So that's what this is about.
He rises from his position on the edge of the bed, stretching until he hears his back give a satisfying pop. “How long is your mom going to be in New York?”
Kentarou pauses. There's a beat of silence before a tense half shrug, “No idea. Grandma doesn't seem like she's getting better though, so…”
Shigeru trudges across the room, wrapping his arms around Kentarou's middle. He kisses the side of his neck before resting his head on his shoulder. “I'll go with you.”
“You don't have to.”
“I know.”
Kentarou fastens the last button. His hand covers Shigeru's over his abdomen. He exhales deeply with a low sigh.
They stand in front of that mirror, unmoving, taking in the sight of each other.
Kentarou's looking at himself like a man lost, eyes full of barely concealed guilt.
Shigeru nuzzles into the side of Kentarou's neck, “Merry Christmas.”
Kentarou doesn't respond. He's looking into his own eyes, having a conversation Shigeru knows full well yet can't understand.
“It's not your fault.”
And even though Kentarou nods slowly in understanding, he still doesn't answer.