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Nanba peered over from the sports magazine Adachi left in Survive’s upstairs bedroom and looked at the small tube of lotion with confusion as Ichiban placed it in his line of sight. Ichiban was kneeling in front of him, hand buried in his unruly not-perm and he looked as if he was gearing up for one of the grand apologies he gave on behalf of Eri’s company.
“You know how you have steady hands, right?” Ichiban asked.
“I’d say you have proof of that above your left nipple.”
“I wasn’t going to show you yet, but I need help putting cream on my arm.”
Ah, so he probably had a rash, or a cut he couldn’t reach. Maybe he had gotten it doing something embarrassing and didn’t want to bring it up before?
“First I had Adachi try and help me, but he’s a little too rough, like he’s apprehending a bank robber or something. Then Saeko took too long and roped Joon-gi into it and they sat there arguing about using the right skin care products, and used too much nail.”
Nanba dog-eared the article on boxing and set the magazine down while Ichiban took off his blazer. It was almost backstabbing how everyone seemed to be in on whatever happened to his arm except him. He had been secretive when they turned in for the night recently and completely covered himself in his futon duvet and wondered how he hadn’t overheated. Ichiban unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and rolled the fabric off his left shoulder, and Nanba’s jaw dropped.
On his shoulder was a new tattoo: a photorealistic pigeon mid-flight, with its wings spread majestically as if it were a crow or phoenix instead of the downtrodden grey smudges they usually were.
“Surprise!”
Nanba felt a deep heartache as his eyes trailed along the line work, the vivid green and purple details in the grey wings, and the realization that this was very clearly a tattoo dedicated to him . Naturally his brain could only formulate an angry response at first.
“Oy, I thought you were done with yakuza nonsense, and you get a new tattoo?”
“Tattooing is legal now, thank you. Plus it’s not like I show any skin at my part time gigs so it’s all good!”
Nanba unscrewed the cap on the lotion and put a generous dollop on his index and middle finger. “When did you even get this?”
“That one night I said I was catching bugs in the park. I mean I still caught bugs but that was beforehand and boy was the artist mad when I showed up with five scorpions in a paper bag from the cafe truck!”
Nanba began applying it in small back and forth motions starting at a spot near the pigeon’s breast, where skin began to flake off into stencils of its feathers. He kept his touch gentle, like applying neomycin to a cut back when he had more medical supplies on hand than fishing wire and torn clothing. Ichiban hummed in satisfaction at the cool ointment on his skin and his chest rose and fell in peace. He looked at Nanba adoringly as he went for a second helping of lotion on his fingers for the wings.
“I guess I just want to know why.” Nanba changed to broad strokes to cover as much of the wings at once with his delicate touches. “Usually you get tattoos that are cool looking, or something symbolic, or something that’s important to you.”
“Well then it should be obvious, isn’t it?” Ichiban’s hands fished on the tatami for one of Nanba’s, and once he found one he interlaced their fingers and gave plenty of pulsing, giddy squeezes. “It’s pretty cool, symbolic of you, and you’re important to me.”
Nanba felt all the blood in his body rush to his cheeks. He scrambled for the lotion bottle for a final glob to apply to the pigeon’s little feet, inked on as fierce with talons at the ready. His fingers drew little spirals as he finished helping Ichiban with his aftercare.
Ichiban sighed in relief and pulled the thin white shirt back over his bicep. “I guess I should’ve just asked you first instead of trying to make it a surprise.” He brought his hand up to Nanba’s face and brushed his thumb over a spot on his cheek between where the bags under his eyes ended and his stubble began. On days Nanba was too lazy to keep his facial hair in check, it was his favorite part to place a quick kiss. “Thank you, Nanba.”
Luckily today wasn’t one of those days and Nanba spent time before leisurely reading about boxing taming his face, and Ichiban leaned in for a tender and cautious kiss angled away from his eyeglasses.
“I’m gonna grab a few things from Poppo, want anything as a thank you?” Ichiban asked as he pulled away and finished redressing himself.
“I think I’m okay for now. There’s enough cup sake in the fridge for me.”
“You should think about what kind of tattoo you’d get for me!”
Nanba groaned at the idea. “Oh, Ichi.”
As Ichiban barrelled down the stairs Nanba rubbed the leftover lotion on his fingers into his hands, and let the idea of a thin red line permanently over his heart ruminate, only half-jokingly.