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The hospital hallways were warm, which felt wrong. Something about being denied the cliché of a cold uncaring hospital just didn’t sit right with him no matter that he tried to rationalize it away by reminding himself they were just entering the height of summer and one of the nurses had told him a month ago that their air conditioning wasn’t the best. Stepping out of the cool breeze outside and in to the muggy heat of the in-patient wing, Tenzou automatically pulled at the collar of his t-shirt. He could already feel the sweat gathering in the small of his back.
At the very least his partner was probably happy with the temperature. Kakashi had always abhorred the cold, although he wasn’t even sure if the man remembered that or if it was just instinct that had him leaning in to what small patches of sun reached his bed during the day.
Rubbing at his temple with one hand, Tenzou returned a greeting from one of the nurses with a small wave of his other hand. He was never sure if it bothered him or touched him that they all knew his face and his name by now. For the first week after Kakashi’s accident he had practically camped here and in the month after he woke up Tenzou had visited every day after work. Two more months down the road and he still visited just as frequently but he didn’t think many people would blame him for not staying as long each time anymore.
Looking in to the eyes of the man he loved and seeing nothing but blank politeness would drive anyone from the room, he was sure.
When he reached Kakashi’s room Tenzou paused to look in through the window, taking a moment just to admire the sight of his husband’s placid smile and the carefree lack of tension in his shoulders, the ease with which he held himself even in this sterile, foreign environment. For a man with little to no memories of who he was Kakashi had been incredibly brave from the moment he woke up. It was almost as admirable as it was painful to see all the qualities that Tenzou had fallen in love with him for all those years ago displayed so prominently despite the fact that, for all he knew, he was untethered to this world around him.
Clearing his throat, Tenzou pushed his thoughts aside just as he pushed the door open and stepped through.
“Knock, knock,” he called softly. Kakashi turned to look at him and his heart thudded painfully at the minute tightening around those beloved eyes, the flicker of impatience where there should have been loving welcome.
“Tenzou-san.”
“I’m your husband,” he pointed out for the hundredth time. “There’s no need to be so formal.”
Kakashi closed his eyes in the way of his fake smile and tilted his head to one side, “Ah, I still forget things sometimes. Please excuse me.”
He apparently forgot, too, that as his husband Tenzou would know all his habits, could read the irritation behind that false smile and knew that Kakashi didn’t really want him here. They got along well enough. Of course they did, they had clicked together like puzzle pieces right from the moment they first met so many years ago. The problem now was that this wasn’t the first meeting and yet only Tenzou carried the baggage of their shared memories.
“I brought you a few things from home,” he offered, letting the fake smile pass without comment. “You’ve already read the other books I brought so I thought you’d like the last in the series. And this is just a little, uh, you play with this puzzle box a lot. Mostly just to keep your hands busy while we watch TV but I thought maybe…”
“That it might spark some memories?” Kakashi held out one hand but it was with the air of someone resigned to doing something just to get it out of the way.
Dropping the puzzle box in the outstretched hand, ignoring the screaming voice in his heart that yearned to weave their fingers together, Tenzou nodded and murmured quietly, “I had hoped so.”
“Maa, I appreciate the book,” Kakashi offered. “I’m dying to know what happens next.”
“I could spoil it for you,” Tenzou teased with a hesitant smile. He was pleased to see Kakashi huff and snatch the novel away from him as well to hold it close like a precious child. He always had gotten a little too in to his stories; it was good to see that was another thing about him that hadn’t changed.
“Don’t you dare! Junko has been through so much and I want to find out for myself how she deals with Haruya’s betrayal! A love story should be experienced, not recounted!”
Tenzou recoiled like he’d been slapped in the face and his reaction seemed to force Kakashi to realize what he’d just said. To his credit he did wince, a clear sign he hadn’t meant to be so blatantly insulting, and set the book down to rub awkwardly at the back of his head. No amount of apologetic expressions could make up for blunt honesty, however. The damage had already been done.
Fighting hard to keep his own face neutral, Tenzou took a step back. “Anyway, I just came to drop those off and to let you know that…that I’m still thinking of you. But I, uh, I suppose if you’re so excited then I should let you get to reading!”
He offered a false smile of his own but didn’t dare look up to see whether it worked in the slightest. Kakashi’s eyes burned in to him as they both murmured awkward goodbyes and even though he knew it was impossible Tenzou felt as though those eyes followed him all the way back out of the hospital, chasing him through the too-warm hallways and out in to the breeze where he was disappointed to realize that he still couldn’t breathe past the lead in his chest.
Of course, as weak as he was for the man he had married, Tenzou was back at the hospital only two days later. Kakashi had called him a sucker for punishment many times before and never had he felt so much like laughing and crying at the same time because the man was more right than ever and he wouldn’t even remember it.
A terrible irony considering how much he enjoyed being right.
Before going to Kakashi’s room he spoke to one of the nurses in the hallway who updated him on the fact that there were really no updates to be given, his condition unchanging. The blood clot they were so worried about was still in the same spot, not moving towards his brain yet but also not disappearing, and the blood thinners they had him on weren’t making as much of a difference as the doctor had hoped. If it weren’t for the blood thinners Kakashi could have actually come home. Tenzou supposed his husband was probably grateful that giving an adult so much Advil had such a potential to be dangerous since it gave him an excuse not to go live with a man whom he saw as a stranger.
The first thing Tenzou saw when he did enter the room was a smile he knew all too well. Kakashi had a cute face and a killer smile and he knew just how to use it, always had. It was one of the first things that caught Tenzou’s attention and it was one of the deadliest weapons against him whenever they bickered. The problem right then was that his favorite smile was being directed at someone who was absolutely not him.
Both Kakashi and the nurse stopped laughing as soon as they spotted him there in the doorway, the nameless young man who had probably come in to the room by accident cleared his throat and bid the patient a good day, edging around Tenzou with a nervous look in his eyes that said he knew all about the odd relationship between them but had chosen to stop and flirt anyway. Hopefully some of the other nurses would know his name so Tenzou could ask him very politely to step the fuck off.
“Tenzou-san,” Kakashi greeted him. His voice carried a firm note that elicited a very soft sigh from the doorway.
“You don’t have to- never mind. How are you?”
“Well I suppose most of my day has been pretty good.” When Kakashi smiled there was a layer of coldness behind it that said Tenzou was the one who had ruined that good day by interrupting the scene he had just now.
Choosing not to address that, Tenzou rather stubbornly stepped in to the room and parked himself in to visitor’s chair. Kakashi was his husband. They had been married for six years and dated for two before that. No wet behind the ears nurse boy was going to step in to his territory without a fight; just because it hurt to his very core that Kakashi would give so much warmth to someone he had no connections to and yet turned away from Tenzou on instinct, that didn’t mean he was ready to give up quite yet.
Almost. But not yet. He was worn and tired and the months of cool reception had been hard but he was also patient and so deeply in love he didn’t know if it was in him to turn away. This was the road he had chosen to walk and by god he would walk it until his knees gave out from underneath him. Or until he was asked to leave. That was an option he had very carefully considered, accepted, and then gently pushed to one side in the desperate hope that it would never happen.
“Have you gotten very far in your book?” he asked. It was the safest topic he could think of to talk about and was rewarded for his efforts by the excitement on Kakashi’s face.
“Already four chapters in! It’s thrilling! The romance, the action, the suspense and everything, it’s all so masterfully crafted. I really must have some good taste for these to be my favorites. This author is a genius!” While he spoke his hands traced shapes in the air, the most animated movements Tenzou had seen from him since the accident. It was heartening to see.
“You met him once, you know,” he said. “We went to a book signing two years ago when this last installment came out. You were first in line. We camped outside the bookstore all night.”
Kakashi’s jaw dropped with awe. “I met him!? Tell me! Tell me everything!”
There was really no denying that happy expression. For the first time since the man had woken from his coma he seemed excited to interact and Tenzou was human enough to take his wins where he could find them. It was incredible to be in the center of Kakashi’s focus again and for the next couple of hours he dredged up every scrap of knowledge he had about the Icha Icha series and its author, things he had picked up over the years from listening to this same man gush over them or reciting a few raunchy passages during intimate moments. He might have never read the books himself but after living with someone who obsessed over them for so long he was bound to know at least enough to carry his weight in the conversation.
Unfortunately the well of his knowledge did run dry eventually and even Kakashi could only ask so many questions about the author when their meeting with him had only lasted for about fifteen minutes, most of which had been spent standing to the side and speaking over his shoulder while the man continued to sign novels for other people in line. The description of how jealous the other book lovers had been to see him being so friendly with the author earned a laugh at least.
But as the conversation slowly began to peter out again Tenzou felt the same old frustration rising up in him.
“It shouldn’t be this awkward,” he blurted suddenly. “You always told me it was love at first sight, that you were captivated right from the beginning. I don’t understand. How is it different now?” He knew he had ruined all the good rapport he’d just built when Kakashi ran a tired hand through his messy silver hair.
“Maybe you look different,” was his blunt suggestion.
“Not that much. At least, you always said–”
“Or maybe that’s the problem! You’re always on about what I’ve said and what I’ve done and how you think I’m supposed to be. I don’t know that guy you want me to be, Tenzou-san, and I don’t know you. Maybe I fell in love with you the first time because you didn’t expect anything from me!”
Leaning back in his chair, Tenzou took a deep breath to steady himself. It was surprisingly difficult. “You’re right, I have been expecting a lot from you. It’s just hard. One day I have a husband who loves me and then the next…”
“Yes, yes, the next you have me. Well I’m very sorry to be a disappointment for you but I don’t think you’ve ever completely understood what it’s like from my side. I don’t know you! But you look at me like you’re just…waiting.” Kakashi shook his head. “I don’t even really know what you’re waiting for. My memories? Some sign that I’m falling in love with you all over again even though you haven’t given me any time or reason to? It stresses me out to have you here, Tenzou-san. I’m sorry if that hurts to hear but every time you visit…it’s just stressful trying to figure out who you’re waiting for me to be.”
Each word he spoke was like another knife in Tenzou’s heart. Ice ran through his veins and his lungs burned for the air he couldn’t seem to breathe in properly. No pain he had ever felt came even close to this except those first terrible hours after the accident when they weren’t sure if Kakashi would live or die. But worst of all was knowing that Kakashi hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. Knowing that for all the hope in his heart Kakashi’s memories were gone, they might never come back, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about that.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly, hands fisted on his knees. “You’re right, of course. I should never have put those expectations on you. It was unfair of me. Thank you for being honest. Perhaps it would be best if I…visited less often.” Despite his efforts he couldn’t quite bring himself to say he would stay away and he averted his gaze to avoid seeing any potential disappointment in Kakashi’s face.
“Right. I truly don’t mean to hurt you but I would appreciate a little space to just breathe and learn to be me again. Please don’t think I haven’t tried to remember. I have. I can see how much you love me and it isn’t that I don’t want that. I just…I don’t remember you.”
His voice had only been so soft on the few rare occasions when they fought for real and Tenzou hated himself for even making the comparison after what he had just been told. It took a great deal of effort to peel himself up out of the plastic chair and step back towards the door with both hands clasped together in the awkwardly polite manner so many had made fun of him for over the years.
“If space is what you ask of me then space is what I will give you.” He hovered for a couple of long minutes as he tried to think of something else to say but all the words in his head were jumbled and messy, emotional and so very much not what needed to be said at that moment. For all that he had always been the more mature between the two of them, more in tune with his emotions, it was sort of funny that now he had finally found a situation where that worked to his detriment. Now in the hour when he felt the most was the time when he needed to box himself in and display the least – and he had failed at that. It simply wasn’t in his nature. With a formal bow Tenzou excused himself and whispered his goodbyes.
When the door closed behind him Kakashi’s voice did not follow but the nurses in their station all watched him pass with sympathy in their eyes as tears began to spill over his cheeks. He ignored them. Their sympathy was not what he wanted right then.
Resisting the desire to go visit his beloved was about as hard as he’d thought it would be. Neither of them had ever had any family to fall back on and without Kakashi as the glue to keep them together he found his circle of friends less cohesive than he would have liked. He spent the next couple of weeks feeling isolated despite the people all around him at work or when he went out shopping, lonelier than he could ever remember feeling in his life.
Most of the time he spent away was filled with deep cleaning their home and flipping through magazines he had no real interest in, things he could do that didn’t require much brain power since his mind remained stuck in a hospital room where he apparently wasn’t welcome. Or needed. The sight of Kakashi smiling at another man played in his head a hundred times over until he thought it might make him physically ill to remind himself yet again that if the memories never came back then he had no right to stop Kakashi from falling in love with someone new and starting a new life over the ashes of their old one. It was a hard truth and it hurt to swallow but it was something he knew he couldn’t let himself forget.
He hadn’t been sent away entirely yet, however, and Tenzou could only keep his stupidly hopeful heart away for so long. Certain occasions should be spent together, after all. On the Monday of the third week he found himself trudging along muggy hospital hallways once again and fanning himself absently with one hand while he waved to the nurses with the other. Kakashi wasn’t in his bed when Tenzou came in to the room but the bathroom door was closed and the light was on so he hovered anxiously just inside the room feeling as though he were back in high school waiting for the principal to see him. When the door opened he did his best to assume a neutral face instead of the kicked puppy look he knew he was probably wearing.
“Oh. Tenzou. Jeez, you scared me.” Kakashi faltered in the bathroom doorway and put a hand over his heart, laughing a little at his own reaction. Then he continued on to clamor back in his bed before saying anything else, melting back against the pillows.
“I hope I haven’t come at a bad time,” Tenzou murmured, still not coming entirely in to the room yet also unwilling to send himself away. Not if he didn’t have to.
“Maa, I was pretty bored actually. The TV in here stopped working yesterday so I haven’t really had much to do.”
A half smile formed on his lips and he asked, “How will you ever watch your soaps now?”
“Right? All that drama and I’m missing it! They’re so messy and stupid and they draw you right in until you’re sitting on the edge of your seat because you’ve gotta know whether Takeshi survives that third brain transplant.”
“Brain transplants?” A snort of disbelief escaped him and he was thrilled to hear Kakashi laugh.
“I know, right!”
“Ridiculous.”
They both giggled over the stupidity of soap operas for a little while, coming up with more and more unbelievable problems for the characters to face and the stupidly dramatic solutions the show might bring out for them or the twists that would get thrown in to the mix. It was pleasant conversation, more pleasant than most they’d had, and not just because this time Tenzou could actually put his whole self in to it with no pretending. He could easily admit to feeling the draw of those stupid dramas as much as his husband. What made it truly nice though was the ease in Kakashi’s stance, the lack of tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to sense that there was nothing being asked of him and so felt no need to raise his hackles defensively in the face of failure.
Eventually the conversation turned to other things in a natural manner and Tenzou happily followed along whatever path Kakashi wished to tread. Honestly he was just happy to finally sit here with no expectations and no burning in the back of his eyes as he compared every breath and blink to the man he wanted to be sitting in front of him. In a way it was like meeting Kakashi for the first time all over again and it was strangely refreshing.
More than three hours passed by almost without notice and he only truly realized the time when his stomach rumbled loudly enough he feared they might have heard it all the way over at the nurses’ station. With a faintly embarrassed look Tenzou held a hand over his stomach and apologized.
“Time for lunch?” Kakashi asked him with light humor. He nodded.
“Yeah, I think I’ll treat myself to my favorite.”
“Oh? What’s your favorite?” It was only an innocent question asked with a surprising amount of genuine curiosity but for Tenzou it felt like a bucket of ice dumped over his head.
For a little while it had been just like old times and whether that was because he’d been able to let go for a while or simply because he forgot about Kakashi’s condition in his eagerness wasn’t clear. Obviously he would need to do a little more work on this whole ‘no expectations’ thing; apparently his poor tired heart had been hoping that just this one nice conversation would solve all their problems. Pushing himself to his feet, Tenzou very firmly told himself to put a lock down on his emotions and keep this pain to himself lest he alienate his husband after all that work he’s just put in to growing closer again.
“I’m really boring,” he joked instead. “My favorite thing to eat is just this really great apple walnut salad I get from a place that’s a few miles from here.”
“Maa, a man’s got to eat his veggies.”
Tenzou smiled softly. “That he does. Well, this man is off to eat his veggies right now. Have a good day, Kakashi. I’ll come visit again…sometime. Not too soon, I promise, wouldn’t want you to get tired of my face or something.” He forced a little chuckle that even managed to sound half genuine and it seemed like he would manage to get away from this visit without any proverbial scratches.
He made it all the way to the door and halfway out before Kakashi’s voice called himself with an absent note, already distracting himself with something. When he turned back the man had one of the Icha Icha books open across his lap for yet another read through, his fingers fiddling with a worn puzzle box to keep them occupied.
“What is it?” he asked. Kakashi smiled vaguely.
“Happy birthday, Tenzou. Just thought I should say that before you go.”
“I…it is my birthday.”
“Mm. I hope it’s a good one.”
With that Kakashi went back to his book and Tenzou very carefully shut the door, leaned back against the corridor wall, and slid down to the floor with both hands clasped over his mouth to muffle the sobs bubbling up out of his chest.
Kakashi remembered his birthday. As calmly as though it were only normal he had remembered something he’d never being told, oh so casually stopping Tenzou’s heart and nearly ending his entire world because Kakashi remembered. It was only a single detail, small in the grand scheme of things, but to him it was the breath of fresh air after so long in the dark. It was a ray of hope when he had only just begun to accept that all may truly have been lost.
Tears streamed down his cheeks and Tenzou curled in to himself to muffle the sounds of his crying, desperately trying not to draw attention from the man just on the other side of the wall, but for once it was not pain that shook his form. It was joy. Joy so bright and hopeful it almost did become its own kind of pain but he could not have cared less, gave himself over to it without hesitation. After so long feeling nothing but the slow dwindling of his own hope it was a strange kind of ecstasy to latch on to something so small and seemingly insignificant.
Kakashi had remembered his birthday. And with that Tenzou was reminded of what it was like to believe that things might really be okay. Because if he remembered this one thing – well.
What else might he remember?