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Gentaro didn’t like Valentine’s Day.
Commercialized holidays. What a waste. He knew the origins of the holiday—saints and martyrs and the like—were lost to most people celebrating. And that was alright, he supposed. But paper cards and boxes of candy felt so insignificant in comparison.
If it were up to Gentaro, he wouldn’t be doing anything interesting for Valentine’s; however, it was not up to him. It was up to Ramuda.
“What do you think Dice would like?” He rocked back and forth in front of the holiday display, scanning all the items.
Gentaro sighed. “Money, probably. I can’t imagine he has much need for chocolate. Though, now that I think about it, food would certainly be good for him.”
“Ehhh,” Ramuda said in his typical sing-song. “That’s no fun! Valentine’s Day is supposed to be cute and pretty.”
“Does it really matter that much?”
“Yes! You’re just boringgg, Gentaro.” He giggled.
“Perhaps I am,” he said with a smile. He’d been called worse, and he knew Ramuda wasn’t really bothered by his lack of enthusiasm. “Anyway, shouldn’t your priority be your birthday? It must be difficult being born on a holiday, but I feel you should celebrate yourself first.”
“Aww, Gentaro, that’s sweet of you to say! But being born isn’t anything I care about. It’s way more fun to think about love!”
He shrugged. “Agree to disagree, I suppose.”
After more debilitation, Ramuda landed on a weighted blanket and a box of pink-frosted cookies. “So he can stay warm and well-fed!” he declared happily, and Gentaro smiled.
After he’d bid Ramuda farewell and arrived back home, he began to think. Which was nothing special, as thinking was how he usually spent his time. His normal thoughts had such variety, but right now they were only about Dice.
For Gentaro, lying was more than a choice or a habit, it was an instinct. Primal and unshakeable. Even when it came to his own thoughts, Gentaro tended to lie to himself. And when it came to Dice… Oh, Gentaro knew the truth. He knew it better than he knew anything else, but he would never string the words together to admit it.
To put it frankly, Gentaro was in love.
Being with Dice felt better than being anywhere else, a very big compliment when coming from an introvert. There was something about him that felt so safe. He was honest and genuine and had the biggest heart of anyone Gentaro had ever known. It made him want to be more honest, to let the truth pass his lips and reach Dice’s ears. Of course, that was difficult to actually do, but the desire alone felt like some kind of achievement.
An achievement that deserved a gift.
But would that be too close to a confession? Could he really give Dice a present on a holiday about love and continue to pretend that there was nothing romantic about them? He decided he could do it, and would. Even if perhaps he shouldn’t.
It was as Gentaro returned to the store by himself, without his friend humming and bouncing around at his side, that he realized why Ramuda had wanted company. The options were overwhelming. How could this many Valentine’s gifts even exist? Surely nobody needed all of these choices.
This was frustrating. Gentaro had taken several laps of the store, browsing constantly, when he finally accepted that he had no idea what he was doing. What could he possibly get Dice? Nothing felt right. If only there was a way to ask. I mean this in a completely not-in-love-with-you way, but what gift should I get you that you can treasure forever?
Obviously, it didn’t have to be quite so serious. Gentaro knew that, but if he was going to take the risk of exposing his feelings, it might as well be with a present that Dice could actually enjoy.
He paused in his trip down the aisles to gather his thoughts, realizing he had ended up by the games. Boardgames and cardgames and… sets of dice. Ah, irony.
Somewhere between bored and curious, he examined the dice options. There were so many, and most were ugly. Why? If people got as much use out of their dice as Dice himself did, they might as well be buying a set that looked nice.
It appeared that Gentaro was developing an idea. A stupid one, probably, but now that his mind had landed on it, he couldn’t shake the thought from his head.
He grabbed the plainest package he could find, walking with a previously absent determination to the art aisle. This was ridiculous, and he was doing it anyway. Well, if Dice really didn’t like it, maybe Gentaro could just treat him to dinner and they could forget this. There! That was a safe backup plan.
Though Gentaro was an atheist, he quietly thanked God for self-checkout. Even waiting in a horribly long line for it (what are you all doing here, and why are you buying so much? what are your stories?) couldn’t deter how grateful he was that nobody would be looking at and judging his purchases for the day.
At home, Gentaro laid out his supplies on his kitchen table and sighed. He’d never considered himself an artist in any form other than writing, but he intended to try his best. What was it about Dice that made Gentaro want to try so hard? No time to unpack it now. He had work to do.
And work he did, for several hours. Waiting for paint to dry was such a chore. So was trying to paint on such a small surface. He really hadn’t thought this through, had he? But it was done.
Now to deliver it. Public humiliation, it was. But sacrifices must be made in the name of love.
He sent Dice a text, asking to meet in front of a restaurant Fling Posse frequented. The reply was quick and enthusiastic, like most things Dice did.
It was a cold February, and Gentaro was starting to shiver by the time he heard Dice calling his name.
“Yo, Gentaro!” he said as he approached. “What’s up? We getting something to eat?”
“Ah, hello, Dice. Yes, we can get food if you’d like.” He tried to calm his nerves, reminding himself that Dice was the last person he needed to be embarrassed with. Still, this was strangely hard to do. He felt childish and stupid, but he pushed through. “Though I asked to meet in order I can give you a gift for Valentine’s Day.”
Dice’s eyebrows shot up. “You got me a gift? Seriously?! Man, that’s so nice of you! Thanks.”
“Well, of course I did. It’s a holiday meant for those you care about.” He held out the small box he had packed with his present. “Here.”
With an adorable (you’re pathetic, Gentaro) eagerness, Dice whipped off the lid. Gentaro watched with unease as Dice took in the sight before him.
Gentaro had carefully painted the ten dice that came in the package. They were now different shades of green, blue, and purple. Some had delicate vines weaving between the dots, others were flecked with stars. It’d been painstaking to make the tiny images look passable, but he thought he did a sufficient job.
“How long did this take?” Dice asked after an anxiety-inducing period of silence.
“Not very,” he lied. “But it’s of no importance.”
He looked up at him, wide-eyed and red-cheeked. Gentaro reminded himself that Dice’s appearance was only due to the cold, not that he was blushing or anything. It wasn’t like Gentaro wanted Dice to be blushing, anyway. What? “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Well, I did,” he said, and he could see his breath in the chilly air. “If you don’t like it, I understand, and I can—”
“What?” he interrupted. “Gentaro. I love it.”
Huh? Now it was his turn to blush. “Do you? I’m glad.”
“Of course I do. This is… really thoughtful. Most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten.” Dice looked away. “Wish I had something for you.”
“You really needn’t worry about it. The kindness you always show me is more than enough.” Idiot. Why would you say that? He repressed the urge to cringe at himself.
His words made Dice look back up at him, staring silently. The expression on his face was contemplative, but Gentaro couldn’t quite read it. He tried to think of something to say to break the tension, but Dice broke it first.
By kissing him.
Gentaro froze, eyes wide and heart suddenly racing. Was he…? Was this…? It couldn’t be. And yet, it was. He let his eyes close as he started to kiss back, one hand tentatively lifting to cup Dice’s cheek. He felt so warm. Was that just in comparison to the weather? They’d have to try again after going inside. Just to test that, of course. Not because Gentaro loved this. Loved Dice. No, certainly not.
They separated after… well, Gentaro hadn’t been counting. He kept his eyes down, knowing very well that he would fluster himself if he looked at Dice now.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he muttered. Then Dice laughed, and Gentaro mentally kicked himself for looking up. He just loved that laugh too much to resist.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Gentaro,” Dice said. “Thanks for the gift. I feel bad I didn’t get you anything, though.”
“It’s not a problem.” That wasn’t a lie. “But if it really bothers you, I could accept more kisses.” His cheeks were hot.
“Well, hey, that’s no fair. Kissing you is a gift for me, and I wanna do something for you.” He grinned.
Gentaro was never going to get over this guy, huh? Good. “I’m sure we can work it out. Let’s go inside, shall we? I can’t think in this cold.”
“Sounds good.” Dice grabbed his hand, and together they entered the restaurant.
Together is such a beautiful word, Gentaro thought, basking in the unfamiliar sensation of being loved. I hope I get to use it all the time.