Chapter Text
This is a story about that bitch, Fate. Fate is a spoiled little wretch because Fate always gets its way. Fate doesn’t listen to reason. Fate doesn’t heed prayers or pleas or calls for mercy. Fate has its own plans and rarely do they align neatly with your own. Hell, sometimes Fate ignores your plans completely.
Stupid bitch.
But the worst thing Fate does is use a misstep of millimeters to send lives on a detour of miles.
Like that time a certain white-haired high school boy went to put a Christmas gift in the locker of his crush. The boy had forgotten to buy a card, so he dug in his pocket for the convenience store receipt he knew was there and wrote his very important message on that simple slip of paper. He placed that note on top of the gift’s very big, very beautiful silver bow, a move that seemed thoroughly inconsequential at the time. But not according to Fate.
Had that boy tipped the note just a skosh forward, the delicate wisp of paper that carried his dearest wish would’ve been seen by its intended recipient. But that’s not what happened. The note tumbled backward from its perch upon that pretty Christmas bow and landed amongst two sandwich wrappers, another convenience store receipt, and a month’s worth of balled up to-do lists that really should’ve been dumped out weeks ago.
When that debris was finally cleared out, that precious note camouflaged with the waste around it and was not seen, even for a second, before it was tossed into a trash bag and properly recycled.
Fate is such a bitch.
Most of the time.
==GIYUU===
Giyuu stood outside classroom 2-B and waited for her. He had never done anything like this before, mostly because he had never thought to. Since elementary school, he had been content to exist in his little bubble of schoolwork and study friends and judo lessons. But in high school, his few friends had started coupling up and pressuring him to do the same.
They cornered him almost daily at lunch. “It’s gonna be Christmas Eve soon. You should ask your crush out, so you have a date for the holiday. We can go out as a group.”
There wasn’t a single word in that statement that appealed to Giyuu. Crush? Date? Go out as a group? He shivered at the thought.
“You have a crush, don’t you?”
“Um. Yeah,” he muttered into his bowl of rice. Giyuu grimaced. Why didn’t I lie? he thought. He shoveled rice into his mouth. Maybe they won’t--
“Who is it?”
“CACK.” Giyuu choked on his rice. Fuck.
There was someone Giyuu liked – a boy. Not just a boy. It was Sanemi Shinazugawa. The school’s top athlete, popular, admired, one of the hottest guys in their class. He was tall, lean but muscular. His had thick white hair that he combed into an alluring mess and lavender eyes that could wreck you with one sensual stare, if he wanted. Giyuu wanted.
But he couldn't tell his friends that.
Giyuu tossed out the name of the first female he could think of.
“Reina.”
Giyuu was pretty sure her name was Reina. She was on the softball team. She was cute; everybody liked her. Once, he sat next to her at a school assembly. To Giyuu, that counted as significant social interaction.
“Ask her out! Ask her out! I think her homeroom is 2-B,” his friends pushed and pushed.
So, here he was, standing outside classroom 2-B, waiting for the girl who was probably named Reina. Giyuu mentally rehearsed the script he had written out on a sheet of notebook paper that he was gripping in his left hand and was currently quaking at 8.0 on the Richter scale.
Hey, I was wondering if you have any plans for Christmas Eve? Some of us are going to the Ao no Dokutsu in Shibuya, and I thought you might want to join us.
Giyuu repeated the lines over and over again in his head. It sounded just fine in there.
He glanced down the hall at his study friends silently cheerleading him on. They gave him a thumbs-up. Giyuu blotted his brow with his shirt sleeve, took a deep breath in a mostly vain attempt to quell the anxiety ravaging his chill like a pond of piranha.
Giyuu curled his hand around the doorknob. He turned it and pushed. The door clicked opened.
Doing good so far.
Silhouetted by a wall of windows was a vision of beauty, a slender, athletic, short-haired student.
But it wasn’t Reina.
It was Sanemi.
“Oh hey. It’s you,” he said.
“Kheh. Huh. Fah.” Were the only sounds Giyuu’s mouth was able to produce in response. The shaking in his body intensified. His mind was simultaneously empty and swirling with chaos. His OS had crashed.
“Are you okay?” Sanemi asked. He slung his backpack on his beautifully brawny shoulder and made his way toward Giyuu. “You look a little pale.”
“Uh—um—heh—err..”
Giyuu glanced down at the notebook paper in his hand. Maybe he could capitalize on this opportunity. Sanemi was who he actually liked. But the strokes of ink on his paper wriggled like worms, then diffused, then vanished altogether. He blinked over and over again to clear his foggy vision. It didn’t help. His chest tightened. His breathing thinned to useless, rapid puffs.
Come on! Say something! Anything! You can do this!
Sanemi stopped in front of Giyuu. “Seriously. You should go to the nurse.”
Giyuu finally opened his mouth to speak. But it wasn't his scripted words that came out.
It was his lunch.
In the blink of an eye, Giyuu the real boy turned into a vomit fountain gushing chunky gut slush an impressive three feet in front of him.
Sanemi lurched back. “Oh shit! Wait here! I’ll go get the nurse!” he said as he dashed out of there quick as the athlete he was.
Giyuu’s study friends showed up seconds later. Giyuu bolted past them yelling a two-word explanation. “I’m sick.” His crippling stomach pains, dead-guy pallor, and the crime scene splatter of stomach contents conveniently backed up his story.
I’m never doing this again.
Giyuu hunkered down in a stall in a boy’s bathroom far, far away from the scene of the disaster and crouched on top of the toilet seat. He unspooled a wad’s worth of toilet paper and wiped the barf and fresh tears that had formed a sticky film on his cheeks. He unspooled another wad of TP and blew his nose.
Why him? Why that? he thought to himself on repeat. I want to crawl in a hole and die.
After about a half an hour or so later, when the scuffling of footsteps and the cackling of kids had sufficiently subsided, Giyuu went to his locker. He opened it, and a small gift box tumbled out. The box was lapis blue and dotted with snowflakes of different sizes. A shiny silver bow adorned the top. Giyuu looked for a note or card, but couldn’t find one.
It’s so pretty. Is it really for me?
Giyuu opened the gift box with a delicate touch. Inside sat three red and green dyed dorayaki with a reindeer stamped on the top. It was such a simple, weirdly random gift, but thoughtful in its way. There was only one place in all of greater Tokyo where you could get these dorayaki – at a mom and pop bakery across town. It required a 45-minute train ride to get there, and the shop was only open four days a week. Whoever bought these probably had to skip school one day to get them.
The gift had redeemed Giyuu’s hellish day. He felt special, like someone had noticed him, like someone cared. He wondered what his mysterious secret admirer was like. Maybe he was tall and athletic. Maybe he had stylishly messy hair. Maybe he was popular and sexy and had a thing for dweebs. And maybe if they were to go out on Christmas Eve, they would kiss under the mistletoe and in that moment, they’d know, they were meant for each other.
I’m so dumb. There’s no way in the world it could be HIM.
Giyuu placed the dorayaki back in the box and put the box in his backpack. He had planned to head straight home, but instead he lingered by his locker until school let out. He waited as the stream of students passed through the locker area, his eyes surreptitiously scanning the faces of his classmates. He waited until every last straggler had departed. He waited until they were about to close the gates.
Giyuu lingered by his locker after school the next day, and the day after that. No one approached him. No one even looked his way.
Maybe the gift wasn’t for me after all.
Did two lonely hearts never meet, was some great love never realized, because the gift giver had mistakenly put the package in the wrong locker? Should he leave the box out someplace where the rightful recipient might see it? Or the gift giver, and they can redeliver it to the correct person? Giyuu felt like that might be the right thing to do.
But when he got home, he opened up that pretty box, took out one of the dorayaki, and removed it from its plastic wrap. He took a bite. The outer pancake was springy and sweet. The red bean filling was smooth and mild. And there was something else – a soft cream that married the pancake and the red bean and turned them into something extraordinary. It was so perfectly delicious Giyuu wanted to cry.
What a lovely gift…
God I wish it was for me.
===SANEMI===
Sanemi Shinazugawa was in love with a boy.
He didn’t want to be. Sanemi was only 17, a middling student in a massive school saturated with overachievers and straight-and-narrow types (and he did mean straight). Sanemi had achieved a measure of popularity through a handful of athletic accomplishments: he was captain of the volleyball team, had competed at nationals with the karate team, and taught physical fitness at the local community center. He had a solid group of friends. He had a few girls interested in him. He could’ve, probably should’ve, cruised through high school on these ample laurels.
But this boy…
Sanemi’s eyes had become stalkers. They followed this boy everywhere; they seemed to know whenever he was near. Sanemi’s mind was cluttered with thoughts of him. He wondered what was on that slender boy’s mind when he sat alone in the corner of the soccer field. He imagined what his voice would sound like if he whispered in his ear. He thought it was cute the way he chewed his bottom lip when his attention was riveted to a book. He rehearsed what he would say if one day, finally, he got to look into those big blue eyes, and they looked back.
On paper, Sanemi shouldn’t have liked this boy at all. They were polar opposites. The boy was the smartest kid in the school, but a complete bubble-head outside the classroom. He was surprisingly fit and adept at athletics, but horrifically incapable of socializing with teammates. Plenty of girls, all of them cute and accomplished, buzzed around him like fireflies, but he was stunningly oblivious to their interest. Or perhaps more accurately, had zero idea how to capitalize on it. He trembled like a lost puppy in their presence.
Sanemi wanted so much to talk to this boy, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Sanemi could talk to teachers and administrators, to senpais and kouhais, to hot girls, to macho boys, to five year olds, to strangers on the street. But this boy made his knees weak and his heart flutter. He made his cheeks boil with shy affection. Sanemi was afraid he’d make an ass of himself if he tried to talk to that aloof, but crazy-cute boy. He was certain the boy would reject him. They were both guys, and this was high school after all.
No, Sanemi really shouldn’t have liked this boy. He didn’t want to. It was social suicide. It was a reckless dream. So why? Why did he skip school a few days before Christmas Eve and take a train 45 minutes out of town to buy red and green Christmas dorayaki? Why did he wrap them in a small, lapis blue box with snowflakes on it and a shiny silver bow on top? Why did he put that box in that boy’s locker with a little slip of paper on top that said, “Meet me by the bicycle racks after school. I have something I want to ask you.”
Why did Sanemi wait by the bike racks until it got dark and cold and every last person had left campus?
Sanemi avoided school for a week after that. When he came back, he started going to parties and dating hot girls and hanging out with the greasy drop outs that bullied kouhai on their way home from school. He got himself in so much trouble that he had to transfer to another school for the last term of his senior year. Why?
Fuck if Sanemi knew. That was four long years ago.
Sanemi stood in front of the Ginza department store, his arms laden with shopping bags from every store in the district. Colorful Christmas lights flickered overhead. Carols floated from storefronts. A beautiful woman sidled up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Why do I still think about that stupid boy every fucking Christmas?
==GIYUU==
Christmas needs to die.
Giyuu shoved his way through the crowded streets of Shibuya that chilly mid-December evening. He had given himself a simple mission: complete all of his Christmas shopping. He had a spreadsheet of persons to buy gifts for, the gift he planned to get them, a back-up gift should the original be unattainable, and stores where said gifts could be purchased. He had mapped out the optimal order in which to visit the necessary stores and the amount of time he should spend in each. It was a flawless plan. It should’ve worked as smoothly as a Swiss watch.
But no. Giyuu found himself caught in a clot of sparkly-eyed love monkeys dangling from each other’s arms and moving slower than a turtle in a tarpit.
So rude. I have places to go, you know.
He tried to maneuver around these two-headed monsters, but they were everywhere. They road-blocked the sidewalk. They jammed up store aisles. They were a plague of locusts chewing up common courtesy and precious personal space.
Inconsiderate clods.
The couple currently in front of Giyuu appeared to have fused their hips together – conjoined twins were less attached – and their never-ending exchange of syrupy smooches filled him with the urge to poke his own eyes out with a plastic fork. He rolled them dramatically instead.
Get a room, bitches.
Miraculously, the sea of doting dyads finally parted, allowing Giyuu to dart through to the final store he wanted to visit. A chocolatier. He bought a box of truffles for his coworkers and a cocoa for himself.
A short while later, Giyuu plopped himself and his half a dozen bags onto a park bench. He drew in a big breath of the sharp winter air and let it out with a sigh. His body drooped. Shopping was exhausting, and in Christmas conditions, it was unbearable. And these couples…flaunting their togetherness as they ambled down the city streets lit up like a terrestrial Milky Way, their mitten-ed hands clasped, their cheeks rosy from the cold and their gooey affection. Obnoxious.
Why can’t that be me?!?!
Giyuu wrapped his frigid hands around his hot cocoa. It had been many years since he had a merry Christmas. The last time he remembered feeling true joy this time of year was when he was in elementary school. His parents would let him and his sister decorate a tiny, two-foot tall plastic tree. The family would gorge themselves on a special KFC holiday meal (the only time they’d ever be allowed to have KFC), and then they’d go to the neighborhood café and get hot cocoa in big red mugs and crowned with whipped cream and marshmallows and the creamiest, chocolatey-est fudge sauce that mankind has ever known.
Once Giyuu hit middle school, his parents unceremoniously slaughtered all that Christmas cheer with the ruthless machete of parental pragmatism. “That’s for little kids,” his parents said. Giyuu found their Christmas tree in the garbage bin, its disassembled limbs bent and twisted into clumps, its trunk cracked in half. He cried alone in his room for two days.
Then there was high school. He preferred not to remember that at all.
But he still did.
God, I hate Christmas.
Giyuu sipped the chalky dregs of his cocoa, then tucked the empty paper cup into one of his shopping bags. He checked his gift list – one more bustling store to brave, and then he could head over to his favorite bakery to buy something soft and sweet and to meet his friend Shinobu, who was neither. But she was honest and straightforward with him. Giyuu valued that more.
Giyuu gathered up his bags, three to each hand and rode the various currents of moseying bodies to his next destination.
Still. It would be nice, just once, to have a merry Christmas.
===SANEMI===
Five o’clock and Sanemi was still being dragged from store to store. Three more bags had been added to the collection of five he had already been carrying. The woman he was seeing this month loved shopping, and Christmas shopping – for her, apparently, it was heaven. She felt zero guilt hustling Sanemi from shop to shop and bulldozing him through oppressive crowds to look for whatever knick-knack she just had to buy. “This is what boyfriends are for!” she said with a smile stolen from a toothpaste ad. Then she looped one more bag over his shoulder and hauled him to the next five-story corporate cash grab. Sanemi felt more like a cart horse than a companion.
This was a snapshot of what Sanemi’s Christmases had become. Traipsing around with his girl du jour, having a romantic dinner at some irritatingly bougie restaurant, strolling hand in hand beneath canopies of sparkling Christmas lights, kissing under the mistletoe. He was the perfect boyfriend…on the outside. On the inside…
I hate this…
He had grown tired of having postcard pretty Christmas dates with women he barely knew, much less loved. He was weary of all the forced cheer and sugary romance the holiday peddled. Most of all, he was tired of the emptiness. Sanemi had never once been alone on Christmas Eve. But, he finally realized, he had always been lonely.
“Sanemi? You okay?”
Sanemi’s date waved her hand in front of his face. It took him a second to realize they were at a different store. When did they get there? How long had he been checked out? He had no clue.
“Yeah, fine. What’s up?” he asked.
“Come on. I want to pop into this store,” she said, pulling on his arm.
He anchored himself to the sidewalk. “You go on. I’m gonna rest for a minute,” Sanemi said. He settled himself on the edge of a cement planter.
She gave him a pouty lip, crossed her arms. “I want you to come with me.”
“No.”
“You have to.”
“I said no.”
She rolled her eyes and huffed. “You’re supposed to do what I want.”
“No means no.”
“Fine! Be that way.” She stormed off into the store.
Sanemi’s body deflated into a slouch. He rolled a fist in a tired eye. What am I doing? Do I even want to be here?
Sanemi’s stomach rumbled. It would be probably another couple of hours before they’d have dinner, and Sanemi knew he’d devolve into an even grumpier grouch if he didn’t get some calories in him soon.
He spotted a bakery a few shops down. It didn’t seem too crowded. He figured he could dart in there, grab a little something, and get back before his date returned. Sanemi snaked his way through the crowd to the storefront, but before he could grab the door, it swung open and a couple exited – a pretty, petite woman with amethyst eyes and purple tipped black hair, and a man.
That man!
Sanemi’s heart stopped. His eyes widened into full moons. He knew that man, that dark hair, those blue eyes, that creamy skin, that goofy smile.
Giyuu…
Is it really him? Here? Now? Should I run after him? I should run after him. Shouldn’t I? Gahhhh! I don’t know!
Desire and fear waged bloody war inside his head. Sanemi wanted to see Giyuu again, to finally talk to him like a normal human being, to see what he was up to, to find out what kind of underwear he wore. But Giyuu was with a woman.
Fuck, he’s with a woman. Should I be that big a dick? Maybe…?
Sanemi took a step forward. A hand hooked around his arm.
“There you are. What are you doing over here?” Sanemi’s date tugged him in the opposite direction. “I thought I lost you.”
You almost did. Sanemi put a hand on his cheek. It felt hot; he guessed it was beet red.
She tugged again. “You okay? You look flustered.”
Sanemi was trembling. Emotions he assumed long dead had bubbled to life and set his entire being on fire, the flames burning up his fatigue and leaving a white-hot clarity behind.
Sanemi faced his girlfriend of the moment. “Listen, I—“
“Oh, god! You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” she said, her face suddenly a pallet of pain.
“How did you know? I didn’t even finish my sentence.”
“Two weeks before Christmas!? How dare you break up with me so close to the holidays!” Her anger bellowed through the crowded street, turning curious eyes toward them.
“Can you lower your voice please?” Sanemi growled.
“I might end up dateless on Christmas Eve!” She steadied herself against a lamp post, laid the back of her hand upon her brow. “Oh the shame!”
“You’ll live.”
“Spare me the platitudes, you heartless sack of donkey balls! I can’t believe you led me on like this! I thought we were forever!”
“You first booked me a month ago. This is only our third date.”
“You’re the worst! The absolute worst! I hope you die alone in a ditch.”
A circle of nosy passers-by had formed an impromptu audience to his regrettably public break-up with this irreparably irate woman. He could hear whispering and clucking of tongues. Sanemi didn’t even spare them a sideways glance.
Sanemi took his date’s arms and bent them into hook shapes. “I’m sorry,” Sanemi said. He hung a shopping bag on her arm. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He hung another couple of bag on her arm. “But there’s something very important I have to do.” He hung two more bags on her other arm. “And a very important someone I want to see. So…” He shoved the remaining three bags at her chest. “Sayonara.”
Complaints and curse words erupted from his date. Sanemi didn’t stick around to hear them. He bolted as fast as he could back toward the bakery where he had seen Giyuu.
Maybe he’s still in the area. Maybe they didn’t get far.
Sanemi searched the crowd, poked his head in stores. Ventured further down the street. Giyuu was nowhere to be seen. He was gone. Probably forever.
Why? Why?!?
Sanemi wanted to punch Fate in the dick. Instead, he kicked the shit out of a garbage can.
When he heard a five-year-old ask his mom “Is that man crazy?” Sanemi decided it was time to compose himself. He went back to the bakery where he had seen Giyuu. He noted their address and their hours of operation. He figured out what trains he needed to take to get there from his house, and he wondered, against his better senses, how much money he was willing to spend on bread he didn’t need at a bakery that was nowhere near where he lived.
Sanemi sighed.
Yeah, kid. I’m crazy.
===GIYUU===
Over the past few days, Giyuu had made a few attempts to procure a Christmas Eve companion. He approached the energetic personal trainer at his gym. Approached, then dashed past to the men’s toilets where his body promptly exhumed his breakfast.
Giyuu fared a bit better during his second attempt with the friendly security guard at the building where he worked. Giyuu prevented himself from up chucking and instead merely fainted. Into a fountain. In the lobby. In front of a tour group. Who took video. That went viral.
Giyuu rallied himself for a third attempt – his flirty neighbor from across the hall. Conveniently, the neighbor was exiting his apartment as Giyuu was coming up the stairs.
“Oh, hey! It’s you,” the handsome neighbor said, smiling like he had just met his favorite celebrity.
Giyuu’s face lit up. His neighbor noticed him? And knew who he was? Giyuu did a quick mental body scan – he felt only the slightest twinge of nausea.
Maybe…
“You’re the guy in that fainting video,” the no-longer-handsome neighbor said. He yelled into his apartment, “Hey, Miku, come quick. It’s that guy from that video.” He looked at Giyuu, “My girlfriend loved that video.”
Or maybe not…
“If you’ll excuse me.” Giyuu shuffled past his neighbor and into his apartment.
That string of ego-crushing failures drove Giyuu to the point of desperation, to a state where he would perform even the most dangerous, foolhardy acts to get a date.
“Will you go out with me on Christmas Eve?”
“Oh heeeelllllll no,” Shinobu nearly yelled as they approached Giyuu’s favorite bakery.
“Please? I’ll take you anywhere you want, no matter the expense.”
“You know I’m lesbian, right?”
“Yes, I get your texts. This wouldn’t be a romantic thing. It’d be a keeping-a-friend-from-having-yet-another-catastrophic-Christmas thing. What do you say?” He opened the bakery door for her.
“No can do,” Shinobu said. “Unlike you, virgin-san, I’m dating someone.”
“Since when?” Giyuu asked.
“Since two months ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to make sure we were actually a thing.”
“Are you?”
“Most definitely. So, I do not want a bipedal mood killer like you coming between me and my mochi-mochi on one of the most potentially romantic days of the year.”
Giyuu bent over and peered into a pastry case. “Well, I guess it’s just me and you again on Christmas Eve, cheesecake-kun.”
Shinobu bent over next to Giyuu and nudged him with her elbow. “Hey. I think your problem may be solved. I just saw a hottie checking you out,” Shinobu whispered.
“Really? Where?”
They stood up. Shinobu turned him around and pointed to a man partially obscured by the herd of customers. “Over there in the corner. They’re about your height. White hair.”
Giyuu ran a hand through his hair, straightened his shirt and coat. Displayed his teeth to Shinobu. She gave him a thumbs-up and a gentle shove.
Giyuu sailed his way through that shifting sea of people until it suddenly parted and revealed his purported admirer.
A grandpa.
Giyuu assumed he was a grandpa; he looked old. Very old. Like exhumed from a pyramid old. Like looked as if he was constructed from twigs and worn-out leather old.
The grandpa smiled at Giyuu. Giyuu offered a feeble smile in return. The grandpa shook his head ‘no’ and gestured for Giyuu to move aside. Giyuu’s brow knit in confusion. The old man gestured again. Giyuu cocked his head to the side.
A grandma slipped past Giyuu and linked her arm in grandpa’s. Giyuu sighed.
Great. I’ve been flexed on by a 90-year-old.
Giyuu returned to Shinobu. “Why do you hate me?”
“Hate’s a really strong word. Accurate. But strong.”
Giyuu sneered. “You’re the worst.”
“I do try.” She handed Giyuu a bag. “These are for you.”
He peeked inside. All his favorites. He smiled. “I guess I won’t have to kill you in your sleep.”
They left the bakery and made their way to the train station.
“You may still be able to find someone for Christmas Eve. Don’t give up hope yet,” Shinobu said, poke-poking Giyuu in the arm.
“It’s only a week until Christmas Eve. I’ll need a Christmas miracle to find a date at this point.”
Shinobu stopped in her tracks. “Oh, my god. I’m being so you.”
“Huh?”
“Lame. My girlfriend runs a rent-a-date service. I bet she can find you a companion for Christmas Eve!”
“You really think so?” Giyuu paused. “Wait. Is this a joke? Are you messing with me again?”
“I’d never mess with you like that.”
“You literally just did!”
“Oh, yeah,” Shinobu giggled. “I’m being serious now. Her office is an easy subway ride from here.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” Giyuu started walking forward. “What do I have to lose?”
===SANEMI===
What the hell am I doing?
Day 5 of Sanemi’s bakery stake out. Sanemi was beginning to feel a little insane. Not insane enough to stop his twice daily visits to this shop that was 30 minutes out of his way to work or anything else he needed to do. Not insane enough to stop dawdling before the various bread displays as if he were that interested in the type of flour used in dinner rolls vs. baguettes. Not insane enough to stop fabricating stories to tell the cashier about why he was there – again – and why it took him 45 minutes to buy a single melon pan. But he was getting close.
Today, he thought he would really shake things up and get a curry pan and a melon pan. He bent over and scrutinized the pile of curry pan in the display case as if they were unique individuals. He evaluated their size, relative plumpness, and outer crispiness.
Who am I kidding? They’re all the same.
The clerk came over to take his order.
“Uh, yeah, I’ll take two of the curry pan, and one of the—“ Sanemi turned toward the case that contained the melon pan and immediately froze in place. He audibly gasped.
“Excuse me, sir. What else did you want?” the clerk asked.
Words stuck in Sanemi’s throat. Only incoherent gurgles came out. And a name only Sanemi could hear.
“Giyuu.”
Across the crowded store stood Giyuu. He had entered the bakery with the same beautiful, purple-eyed woman in tow. They conversed with such ease, like old friends – longtime lovers. She playfully poked his arm. He rolled his eyes. They bent over at the same time to peruse the same baked goods. They looked almost cute together. He wanted to stab his eyes out. Or hers.
“Sir? Sir?”
Sanemi whipped his attention back to the clerk. “Sorry. Um. I’d like a melon pan, too.”
“Great. I’ll ring you up over here.”
As Sanemi bobbed and weaved past people to the cash register, he tried to keep his eyes lassoed to Giyuu, but ambling, indecisive customers kept breaking his line of sight.
“That’ll be 1200 yen, please.”
Sanemi hurriedly dumped money on the coin tray. He grabbed his purchase and searched for Giyuu in the forest of people packed in the store. Sanemi spotted him. That woman was still chatting with him. She playfully poked his bicep again, an impish twinkle in her eyes. The slanted grin on her face told Sanemi she was teasing Giyuu, and judging by the expression on his face, he was enjoying it.
He’s smiling. She made him smile.
A beautiful woman who makes him smile. Sanemi found himself rooted to the floor. He couldn’t move closer. Could he enter their happy bubble? How would he? Every approach Sanemi mapped out in his head resulted in rejection. Every encounter he’d ever had with Giyuu seemed to confirm an unwanted truth.
When am I going to accept that boy is straight?
Sanemi watched them as they strolled out of the bakery together and out of his life.
As long as he’s happy. That’s all that matters. Right?
Sanemi looked down at his bakery bag. His hands had throttled it as if it tried to kill him. He opened the bag and surveyed the damage. Everything inside was crushed into an oozing, unrecognizable pulp.
Sanemi went to slam dunk mutilated treats in the garbage bin, but his arm halted mid swing. His fingers wouldn’t open and release the bag. He brought it back toward him and took another look inside.
Fmeh. It can be salvaged I suppose.
He kept the bag and left.
===GIYUU===
“Nervous?” Shinobu asked.
Giyuu had dropped into a dense silence as he and Shinobu walked from the subway station to the rent-a-date agency. His gut had become a symphony of gurgles and cramps. His mind was ripping at the seams with doubt. His dating luck sucked. Would renting a date be any different?
“I’m fine,” he mumbled.
The secluded location of Shinobu’s friend’s business did little to quell Giyuu’s sense of foreboding. He and Shinobu had to travel through a labyrinth of increasingly tight alleyways one definitely had to know about in order to find before they reached the squat, gray building that housed the rent-a-date agency. A bright red door marked the entrance, nothing else, no sign, no sandwich board. A yakuza host club felt less sketchy.
Giyuu reached for the doorknob, turned it, and pulled. It wouldn’t open. What the… He turned and pulled, turned the other way and pulled, turned and pulled. Fucking… Used two hands, turned and pulled, turned and pulled, turned and pulled. Gah!
“Damn it,” he grumbled, turning, pulling, turning, pulling. “Stupid ass door!”
Shinobu gently brushed Giyuu aside. She turned the doorknob. And pushed. She held the door open for Giyuu. “Would you like me to show you how windows work next?”
“Shut up.” He rustled past her.
The agency office was at the end of a short, dim hallway. Shinobu knocked on the door as she entered. “Mitsuri…it’s me.”
A tall and buxom woman waltzed over to greet them. She had wavy pink hair with green tips and a friendly smile that immediately put Giyuu at ease.
“Shinobu!” Mitsuri gave Shinobu a hug then stepped over and offered a handshake to Giyuu. “This is the client you texted me about?”
Giyuu shook her hand. “Giyuu Tomioka.”
“A pleasure. Please have a seat.” Mitsuri directed Giyuu to a chair by a round glass table.
Mitsuri sat in the chair across from him and set her tablet in front of her. Shinobu sat next to her and poured the tea that was waiting for them in the center of the table.
“Shinobu said you’re looking for a date for Christmas Eve.” Mitsuri asked.
Shinobu slid a cup of tea to Giyuu.
“That’s correct,” Giyuu answered.
Shinobu slid a cup of tea to Mitsuri.
“So tell me, what are you looking for in a man?”
Shinobu poured a cup for herself. Sipped.
“Actually, I’m interested in a woman.”
Shinobu tea sprayed out of Shinobu’s mouth.
“A woman?!” she asked, wiping her chin.
“Really?” Mitsuri remarked, her eyebrows halfway up her forehead in surprise.
“Yes.”
“You mean like a human with boobs and the ability to think without consulting her genitals?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, that’s certainly not a problem,” Mitsuri said as she began tapping on her tablet. “What are you looking for in a—“
“Have you ever actually been with a woman?” Shinobu interjected, her incredulity increasing exponentially.
“Well, yes. I have.”
“When?” Shinobu asked.
“Well, there was this party once--”
“Stop! I just realized this story will involve you.” She shuddered.
Mitsuri put a hand on Shinobu’s shoulder. “So, as I saying, what are you looking for in a—“
“So, you’re not gay?” Shinobu cut in again. “I could’ve sworn you were gay. I’m never wrong about these things.”
Giyuu took a deep breath. “Look, I get really nervous when I go out with really attractive people. It’s especially bad with men I’m attracted to. In high school, I tried to ask this cute guy out, and I puked all over him. I’ve tried to go out with guys several times since then, and it’s always the same thing. I become a walking vomit geyser.”
“I knew it! I’m never wrong!” Shinobu leaned back in her chair like a boss.
“Oh! You poor gay disaster!” Mitsuri said, her eyes welling with sympathetic tears. She placed a comforting hand on his. “I’ll find you someone that won’t make you vomit. I swear I will!”
“You really think you can? Even on this short notice?” Giyuu asked.
“I won’t sleep until I do!” Mitsuri tapped again on her tablet. “Let’s look through our database to see what type of woman might work for you.”
Half an hour later, Mitsuri had half a dozen prospects for Giyuu, Giyuu had nurtured a tender baby bird of hope that this Christmas might be different, and Shinobu had fallen asleep on the office sofa.
Shinobu stretched herself awake and yawned. “You guys done yet?”
“Just finished,” Mitsuri responded over her shoulder. “Any questions?” she asked Giyuu.
“No, this was great. I just hope I don’t make an ass of myself somehow.”
“Isn’t that like asking water to not to be wet?” Shinobu quipped.
“Shinobu!” Mitsuri scolded. She turned to Giyuu. “You’ll be fine. But if you do feel yourself getting overly nervous, chew on one of these.” Mitsuri opened a small drawer in her desk. She dug out a small white paper packet. “Actually, I recommend taking half of one. It’s a mild, all-natural sedative. It’ll settle your nerves right down.” She handed the packet to Giyuu.
Giyuu looked in the packet. Three clear green gummies sat inside. He stuffed the packet in his pocket. “Thanks. Just having these is making me feel more confident.”
Mitsuri walked Giyuu to the door. “I’ll text you as soon as I confirm a date for you.”
Giyuu smiled and shook Mitsuri’s hand with both of his. “Thank you! Shinobu’s right. You’re the best.”
“Good luck!”
Giyuu left. Mitsuri strolled back into the office, her fist at her heart. She sighed, “What a sweet young man.”
“Did you give him what I think you gave him?” Shinobu asked, getting up off the couch.
“Yes. Do you think that’ll be a problem? I just so want this date to go well for him.”
“People can respond pretty differently to cannabis though, especially to edibles.”
“Oh, that’s true. Do you think I should tell him not to use them?”
“Nah. I’m sure it’ll be fine. As long as he only takes half like you told him.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Mitsuri gave Shinobu a peck on the lips. “Wanna go grab a quick coffee?”
“Definitely.”
Mitsuri clapped her hands together. “Yay! Let me just go freshen up.” She skipped to the bathroom.
Shinobu let a devilish grin slide across her face. “Oh to be a fly on the wall during his date.”
===SANEMI===
Sometime later, Sanemi had arrived at his job. Sanemi didn’t really think of it as a job per se. It was a breezy part-time gig that provided a nice chunk of expendable income and paid him to hang out at a bunch of trendy establishments.
Sanemi entered the squat, gray building that housed his employer and entered through the bright red door. He greeted the proprietor with a wave. “What’s up, Kanroji-san?”
“I’m excited! We got a few new clients today,” Mitsuri said, as she finished typing on her computer. She spun in her chair to face Sanemi. “Wanna see?”
“Sure,” Sanemi grabbed a paper plate and dumped the contents of his bakery bag on a it. He set it on Mitsuri’s desk. “Want some?”
Mitsuri squinted at the inscrutable remains of what might’ve been baked goods. Or a small mammal. She couldn’t tell. “Uh. I’ll pass.”
Sanemi downed the last of his ice coffee and strolled over to her desk, “Anyone that might be interested in me?”
“No, sorry. All men looking for women.” She handed him her tablet.
“Surprise, surprise,” Sanemi grumbled as he used a finger to skim through the applications. “It’s always loser otaku and middle-aged pervs, isn’t – whoa! Wait!” Sanemi brought the tablet right in front of his face. He read the name once, twice, 50 times.
He showed the application to Mitsuri, pointed at the name at the top. “Does that say Giyuu Tomioka?”
“Yes. He’s a friend of my girlfriend, Shinobu.”
“Your girlfriend – petite, purple eyes, purple-tipped hair..”
“Super pretty. Yeah, that’s her.”
“She and this Giyuu are just friends?”
“Yeah.”
“Were they ever lovers?”
“Oh, man, don’t ever let Shinobu hear you say that. She’s as lesbian as they come.”
Sanemi howled and jumped. “Fuck yes! They’re not together!”
“Did you think they were?” Mitsuri asked.
Sanemi handed her the tablet. “Rent me to him. I want to be his date.”
“What? I can’t. He specifically asked for a woman.”
“I don’t care. I need to go out with him.”
“He was pretty insistent about wanting a woman. Besides, I can’t violate his contract. I could get in trouble.”
Sanemi went down on one knee and collected both of Mitsuri’s hands in his.
"Oh, no. Are you going to tell me a heart wrenching tale of lost love?" Mitsuri asked.
"Yes," Sanemi replied.
"Proceed."
“I was secretly in love with this guy in high school. I made a feeble attempt to confess my love, but teenage male ego and peer pressure prevented me from actually getting together with him. I’ve been pining for him ever since, hoping, praying that one day we would meet again and I could tell him how I feel. And here he is, finally within my reach. Kanroji-san. Kanroji-sama, this is my chance. This is a Christmas miracle.”
“I don’t know…”
“Please, Kanroji! I need just this one night with him. Please…”
Mitsuri threw her head back and groaned. “Why am I such a sucker for a good sob story?” She rubbed her face with her hands, then sat back up. “Fine. You can be his date.”
Sanemi hugged Mitsuri. “Thank you!! You won’t regret it! I promise!”
“Just make sure you invite me to the wedding.” She pushed him away. “Now go. Go enjoy your miracle.”
Sanemi hopped to his feet and jetted out the door and into that crisp December evening. Twilight had shuttled the sun off to bed and left a pink ribbon of light along the horizon. Stars began to poke their winking eyes through the inky veil overhead. The streets hummed and honked. Trains clacked on their tracks, shoes clicked on their paths. Sanemi wondered if the city had always been so full of music, so full of light.
Sanemi trotted home wearing a smile he never knew he had. A smile so big it made him feel like he could fly. A smile he wanted to share with Giyuu.
Finally, I get to go out with Giyuu, Sanemi thought.
Finally, fate is on my side.