Archive of Our Own

Sixteen

Nanjo Kojiro was 16 when he worked it out. In hindsight, it was amazing that it had taken him so long, really. But then again, he’d never really tried to think too hard about it. About the way his heart-rate jumped a little (or a lot) every time his best friend touched his arm, the way his skin prickled and itched for days afterwards at the ghosted memory of it. The way he would fumble things and drop them – pencils, balls, plates – if Kaoru’s laugh caught him off-guard, bright and sharp and tinkling. The way his chest squeezed a little bit painfully when Kaoru cracked his resting bitch face to smile at Kojiro, like beams of sunlight splitting the clouds. This was just how Kaoru made him feel; he was his best friend, right? The most important person in his life, and that was just a fact that Kojiro had settled on as established since they first toddled around the block to kindergarten together, hand in hand.

Since then, opportunities to hold Kaoru’s hand had, obviously, grown few and far between, but that was normal too. Best friends, especially dudes, didn’t hold hands, right? They smacked each other on the back and talked shit and laughed together, and these moments became a replacement for the ease of soft contact that small children take for granted. He attributed the sudden urges he had on occasion to reach out and grasp Kaoru’s hand to him being too used to children as a result of growing up in a large family. His little brothers and sisters loved having him hold their hand, and so he never grew out of it. Nothing weird.

But tonight? Tonight he was definitely being weird.

It had begun that morning, his phone buzzing to rouse him from sleep, vibrating on the bedside table. He groaned and rolled to perform his usual fumble-tap-snooze routine when he realised it was Saturday, and he didn’t have class today. Cracking an eye open he picked up the phone and peered at it, eyes fuzzy with sleep still. 7.02am. Three new messages: Kaoru. He frowned, wondering if Kaoru had woken early, or had just not actually slept at all, which he hadn’t done in a while; Kojiro started berated himself internally for having not noticed the warning signs of Kaoru’s stress even before he opened the message.

Once he did though, the minute clenching in his stomach undid itself a bit.

‘Tanabata festival tomorrow.’

‘You’re coming. Wear a yukata.’

He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and read the messages again. They’d all been sent within a couple of seconds of the other, and the staccato tone read like Kaoru in one of his more hyped moods. Not manic as such, just days where being with him was like being strapped to a whirlwind: a beautiful, chaotic, imaginative, fun, whirlwind, in which Kaoru made decisions for the two of them in the blink of an eye and Kojiro followed because well, he’d follow Kaoru into hell itself. He just hoped that Kaoru had managed slightly more than zero sleep this time round.

He tapped back a first response:

            Did you sleep?

No doubt it would earn him a scathing response about being a mother hen, but Kojiro had long ceased to be offended by that. Fingers hovering over the screen he paused before continuing. Festival. Yukata. Did that mean Kaoru was going to be wearing a yukata too? The only few times Kojiro had seen Kaoru in traditional clothes was for calligraphy demonstrations organised by the Sakurayashiki house; they’d been dark-toned formal hakama and kimono and Kaoru had removed them with lightning speed as soon as he was done so Kojiro hadn’t ever had the chance to appreciate the effect. His mind drifted to an image of Kaoru in a thin summer yukata, cotton neckline open enough to see his sharp, pale collarbones, tucking neat and slim around his narrow hips. He felt his pulse-rate increase, heat building in his cheeks and he shook himself to try and force the mental image away. Don’t be weird.

In the time he’d taken between responses, Kaoru had already messaged back, his phone buzzing in his fingers and he tried to reign in his imagination.

            None of your business.

            Shrine entrance at 8.

He smiled wryly at the way Kaoru just assumed he would come without even waiting for a response; he didn’t mind though. It meant that Kaoru trusted him and that was worth more than any courtesy. He tapped back:

            Ok, see you

He hesitated again, fingers pausing over the characters. Looking forward to it or thanks for inviting me or can’t wait all flitted through his brain but he decided to just leave it. He didn’t want to seem too excited, even if he was. Now he was fully awake, and swung out of bed and practically tumbled down the stairs to the kitchen, where his Mum was making tamagoyaki. She turned, eyes wide in surprise.

‘You’re up early. Something up?’

He shook his head, collecting himself as he padded to the fridge and pulled out the milk to pour a glass.

‘Is it ok if I go out tomorrow night?’

Chie turned and eyed him closely, scrutinising in that way only mothers can, before her lips turned upwards in a knowing smile.

‘With Kaoru-chan?’

He nodded, and gulped milk to hide the warmth still lingering in his cheeks.

‘Of course sweetie, just remember we’ve got lunch for your birthday ok?’

‘Yeah, of course. Thanks Mum.’ Rinsing the glass under the tap, he went to head back upstairs but paused with one foot on the bottom step. ‘Actually, do you have a yukata anywhere that would fit me?’

There was a clang from the kitchen and a flurry of footsteps as Chie rounded the corner, staring at him, eyes wide. ‘Yukata?’

He rubbed his neck awkwardly. ‘Uh, yeah…for the tanabata festival.’

His mother’s mouth formed a delighted ‘O’ as she practically gaped at him, soft brown eyes sparkling with glee. ‘Did Kaoru-chan ask you to wear one?’

He didn’t really ask. ‘Uh, yeah.’

Chie removed her apron with a flourish, flashing a brilliant and determined smile. ‘We’re going shopping, Ko-chan.’

‘Huh?’ He blinked.

‘Well, you need a yukata. At least something that will look good enough to stand next to Kaoru-chan, and we don’t have anything that isn’t really old…and I’m not sure would fit across your shoulders now anyway.’ She ran her gaze up and down his body, assessing, before nodding firmly. ‘Shopping. Now.’

‘Mum, it’s like 7.15am.’

‘Oh!’ She laughed, eyes crinkling, and began to re-tie her apron. ‘Ok, at 10 then,’ she called, heading back into the kitchen, and Kojiro could hear her humming to herself cheerfully as he plodded back upstairs.

Having been dragged around a few traditional clothing stores all morning, they had ended up settling on one from the very first store, and Kojiro had squirmed with embarrassment while Chie chatted with the sales assistant about how dashing he would look in it, and that he had a very good looking friend who would be wearing one as well.

His birthday passed in a blur of a nervousness he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It couldn’t be because he was seeing Kaoru in a few hours (as he checked his watch for the tenth time since lunch). Was he really that nervous about wearing yukata in public? He couldn't remember the last time he had, to be honest; the ones at onsen resorts on family trips didn’t count. And yet his stomach was doing flips inside him, and he found he couldn’t keep still, jittering with nervous energy every time he tried. Eventually, he gave up and headed out to practice his heelflip, relieved at having a physical outlet to allow him to stop thinking about what Kaoru was going to look like tonight. As the sky darkened outside, a trio of girls tottered past the park, steps small and shuffling in unfamiliar sandals and yukata hems. As Kojiro’s eyes followed them subconsciously, he made the mistake of wondering how Kaoru’s hair was going to look against the collar of his yukata, and whether it would gape at all at his neck…

‘Shit-!’ his centre of gravity shifted too far back and his board shot out from under him, landing his ass gracelessly in the gravel like a beginner on their first ever run. He blushed furiously, whipping his head around to make sure no-one had seen, before brushing himself off and heading back home to shower.

His mother had a lot of opinions about his appearance that night, and had wailed at him for scraping his elbow outside before making sure he was thoroughly cleaned and patched up and tying him into his new yukata. The fabric was slightly stiff from new starch still, a dark forest green with a subtle dark fletched pattern across it; Chie and the store assistant had gushed at how tall and handsome he looked in it but he didn’t really see any difference, except for the fact that his legs felt weirdly bare, and the neckline was higher than he would have liked. He yanked at it subtly while his mother wasn’t looking, tugging it open.

‘Onii-chan, you look weird!’ Taka-chan yelled from his fort of blocks in the living room.

‘Gee thanks, Taka…’ He rolled his eyes and ruffled the little one’s hair.

Kojiro walked to the shrine as the sky darkened, grateful for the dimming of the light to ease some of his weird self-consciousness walking alone. As he approached the entrance gates, he could hear the music and smell the yatai of the festival. He could feel the swarm of butterflies taking flight again in his stomach, his pulse speeding up with every step that brought him closer. Casting his gaze around, he couldn’t see Kaoru yet, so settled for leaning against one of the stone lanterns off to the side of the entrance path. He checked his watch. 8:05pm.

He started tapping his foot after another five minutes passed; then ten. What the hell Kaoru… Now he looked like an idiot for getting here on time. A couple of pairs of girls strolled past as he waited and giggled, covering their mouths with their hands, and it suddenly occurred to him that he must look like he was waiting for a date and had been stood up. He felt all his body heat rush to his face as his cheeks burned, and he gritted his teeth and looked steadily down at the ground, kicking at pebbles in the gravel. Sweat prickled at the back of his neck in the summer humidity.

And so he didn’t notice Kaoru until he received a punch in the shoulder.

‘Oi, don’t ignore me.’

He rubbed at his shoulder, raising his head and opening his mouth at the same time to retort about being made to wait but then everything he had been going to say vanished from his mind in an instant and he just stared, mouth hanging open idiotically, at Kaoru. The other boy’s hair was swept back in a high, tight ponytail, with his bangs styled carefully over one side of his face, leaving the other side free to display his ear piercing that he’d got a few months before, much to his parents’ chagrin. He had replaced the plain silver hoop with a small star-shaped stud which sparkled in the lantern light. The pale line of his neck disappeared into a dark navy yukata, the colour gradating to a very pale ice blue on the right sleeve and bottom of the hem. The cut and drape of the fabric accentuated the sharp outline of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips, the silver obi tucked tight and high, making Kaoru’s legs look even longer than they did usually. The ice-blue fabric at the cuffs exposed his wrists, bones sharp and elegant, thin but strong.

A group of guys brushed past behind him, knocking into him slightly but he didn’t even register them because he had just realised something. He understood now, why his stomach fluttered and his chest felt funny every time Kaoru spoke to him or smiled at him. He understood why he was nervous for no reason to see his friend these days, when being together should be as natural as breathing. He understood, in this moment, face heated from within and lit by the glow of a festival lantern that the reason he was currently speechless and staring at his friend in a yukata was because he liked him. He liked Kaoru. More than the friend kind of like.

The realisation blossomed open inside him as he watched Kaoru’s mouth moving, saying something no-doubt scathing at his prolonged silence, but it didn’t really matter. The flower that was blooming in his chest was hot, unfurling like a firework but instead of fizzling out, taking root in his heart and settling there, ready to grow.

‘Kojiro! What the hell!’ Kaoru waved his hand vigorously in front of Kojiro’s face, and he snapped back to reality, blinking as though dazed as he tried to remember how to make his voice work.

‘S-sorry- I…spaced out.’

‘Spaced out? You were on a different fucking planet, I’ve been trying to talk to you for like, minutes.’ Kaoru’s golden eyes were sharp and accusatory, but there was a faint pink flush in his cheeks and a slight pout to his lips, telling Kojiro that he must have been embarrassed by his staring.

Ah, I want to kiss him.

He started slightly at his own realisation, and the strength of the desire that until this moment had not existed inside him. But now it certainly did; a weird feeling spread through his chest and down into his belly as he trained his eyes on Kaoru’s pale pink lips, making him want to squirm. He wrenched his eyes back up to meet the pink-haired boy’s, who was now looking at him as he was legitimately concerned Kojiro had lost his mind.

‘Um…are you ok?’ Suddenly Kaoru’s facial expression clouded slightly, and a small frown appeared on his brow. ‘Sorry…it looks weird after all, doesn’t it…’ Thin hands tugged anxiously at his obi, straightening it unnecessarily, and Kojiro realised that he’d managed to make Kaoru feel self-conscious. Cursing his inability to keep his thoughts under control, he shook his head firmly.

‘No! It doesn’t look bad.’ His voice was louder than he’d intended, and he winced slightly, shuffling awkwardly in his sandals. ‘I mean…you look really…’

‘Really…what?’ Kaoru was staring at him fixedly, and Kojiro couldn’t quite work out what his expression meant.

Really hot. He punched himself in the face mentally and coughed slightly. ‘Really…cool.’ And it was true, Kaoru did look cool. Also really hot.

Kaoru studied his face for a moment, before making a non-committal ‘Hmm’ sound. Gold eyes raked him from ankle to hair and Kojiro felt himself heat up still further at the appraisal in Kaoru’s eyes. ‘You look surprisingly good for a gorilla.’

He paused for a beat, eyes wide, before snorting with laughter, and like that, the weird tension of the moment was broken, and they fell back into their usual rhythm. Bickering genially, they made their way into the crowd thronging the path into the shrine, shoulders just brushing as they walked.

Kaoru insisted that the evening was his treat, which surprised Kojiro until he was reminded that it was his birthday; he’d almost completely forgotten about it in the face of the reality-shaking realisation he’d had earlier. As they toured the various food stalls and games, Kaoru began to complain bitterly that the gorilla’s stomach was a bottomless pit and that he would be broke after this – which they both knew was not remotely true, as Kaoru’s allowance from his parents was more than capable of handling a night at a festival. Kojiro just grinned, and pointed at the air rifle shooting stall. ‘This one next!’

He tried to look cool and snag the Plamodel on the back shelf, but got distracted by Kaoru’s hair falling loose from his ponytail and brushing his sleeve, and missed, hitting a bright pink stuffed unicorn toy instead. Kaoru had doubled over with laughter, and the bright mirth in his voice and eyes was so infectious that Kojiro forgot to be embarrassed and laughed too. He offered it to Kaoru, who refused point-blank to be seen carrying it around, and so he resolved to bring it home for Ami-chan.

Licking at toffee-coated strawberries, they made their way towards the centre of the shrine complex, where large bamboo branches had been gathered and stuck in pots in giant clumps for people to tie their tanzaku onto. He glanced at Kaoru, who was studying the red toffee with interest; his lips were bright pink and sticky. Kojiro swallowed, dry-mouthed suddenly.

‘Wanna write one?’ He asked the question casually, gauging it as sounding not too eager, in case Kaoru thought it was childish.

‘Nah, wishes aren’t something that the stars can grant you.’ Kaoru licked his lips and looked up at the coloured strips of paper fluttering in the warm night breeze. ‘If you want something, you have to make it happen yourself.’

The way he said it was so very Kaoru; confident, self-assured, determined. Kojiro knew that Kaoru was the sort of person who if he wanted something enough would dedicate every waking moment to achieving it; he’d already seen some of that fierce determination with regards to his skating. Kojiro had things he wanted to achieve for himself too, of course; it’s not as though he lacked ambition, or drive, for that matter. But…maybe wishes could be reserved for something that you couldn’t achieve yourself, no matter how hard you worked at it.

He shrugged, and smiled up at the bamboo arcing into the starry sky. ‘Well, I want to. I’ll be back in a sec.’

He left Kaoru where he was and headed over to the pile of papers being handed out, and waited in turn for a pen to write his wish. Looking over his shoulder warily, just in case Kaoru was somewhere within view, he was reassured; no bright pink ponytail in sight. He turned back to the tanzaku and wrote carefully, black marker on orange paper.

‘May Kaoru like me back one day.’

There, something unrealistic, something unachievable; perfect for a wish offered to the stars.

He felt that familiar warm flutter in his chest as he stared down at the words, before making his way over to the bamboo and tucking it up high and out of sight of anyone who might pass by and be able to read it.

Eighteen

As he passed through the festival crowds, Kojiro had to duck under the lanterns strung between the stalls, now sufficiently tall that he had to stoop slightly to get under the awning of the kakigori stall. Making his way back over to the bench where he’d left Kaoru, he stopped a little way back, heart clenching nastily in his chest as he watched a guy bending over to chat with Kaoru, who was tucking his hair behind his ear in that coy way he did when he was flirting. Flirting. Kojiro resisted the urge to run and abruptly dump the contents of the cups he was holding over the head of whoever-the-hell-asshole this was, and instead just walked slightly faster than he would otherwise have to approach the bench. As he did so, he cleared his throat loudly, simultaneously drawing himself up to his full height and puffing out his chest slightly to look as broad as possible.

‘Hey. Who’s this?’

The guy’s head jerked around and he took in Kojiro, and Kojiro’s icy stare, and comprehension dawned on his face. He muttered apologies and slunk back off into the crowd. Kojiro sighed with irritation, and plonked down on the bench next to Kaoru, who snatched his kakigori from him and glared.

‘What the hell was that for?’

‘What?’ He feigned innocence, and took a sip from his cup.

‘What he says, like he didn’t just act like a gorilla performing some kind of intimidation of a smaller male in the pack. Why did you scare him away? We were just talking.’

‘No, you were flirting.’

Kaoru’s cheeks went pink and his eyes opened wide in shock first, then narrowed in anger. ‘I was not flirting! And, may I point out, even if I was, it’s none of your business?!’

‘It is!’ The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he cursed inwardly. ‘I mean- I just- he looked like a bit of a douchebag.’

Kaoru snorted. ‘Like you’re one to judge.’

‘Hey, I have the kind of face that makes old ladies pat me on the head.’

‘Is that supposed to be attractive?’ Kaoru was laughing now, and Kojiro breathed a sigh in relief.

‘Besides,’ he added, leaning back in the seat and turning to look at Kaoru, ‘it’s my birthday. I don’t want to third wheel on my birthday.’

Kaoru punched him slightly in the shoulder. ‘You’re an idiot. And I wasn't flirting.’

They sat there in companionable silence for a while, spooning crushed iced into their mouths before it melted away completely in the heat of the summer night, pooling into violently coloured liquid in the bottom of the cup. Stickily-colourful cups on the bench between them now, Kojiro looked up into the sky, searching out the stars, and spoke quietly. ‘I guess this is the last one of these we’ll go to for a while.’

He could feel Kaoru tense slightly next to him. ‘Mm.’ His voice was quiet too.

In a week, neither of them would be here. Kojiro was getting on a plane to Italy for culinary school there, and Kaoru was moving to Tokyo to study programming and robotics at university there. Neither of them would likely see each other in the next four years, save for maybe short visits; but even those weren’t guaranteed. Italy was a long way away, and they would both be busy.

The silence stretched between them, widening as though mimicking the vast stretch of globe that would soon separate them. Kojiro's heart felt like it had moved up higher in his chest, beating uncomfortably in his throat while sending out painful pangs throughout his entire chest as he contemplated their separation. He hadn’t been without Kaoru since…before he could remember, really. His earliest memories were of holding hands at kindergarten, splashing through puddles and leaves with fingers entwined happily in childhood innocence. His gaze dropped to Kaoru’s hand, which rested palm up on the bench, fingers lightly furled, as he stared upwards. Kojiro was struck by a sudden urger to seize it in his own, and hold it tight.

He hadn’t acted on the realisation he’d made that night two years ago, happy to leave their friendship as it was and to leave the possibility of anything else to whim of the stars. The most he’d done was repeat his carefully written wish on his tanzaku last year; a secret birthday wish he allowed himself to indulge in, just for that one night, and then go back to being a normal, definitely-not-in-love-with-his-best-friend, friend.

But tonight, something about the chasm of distance that yawned before them made him throw that caution to the winds and reach out, placing his hand on top of Kaoru’s, heart thudding in his ears. Kaoru jumped at the touch, sitting up and staring at him questioningly, but, surprisingly, he didn’t move his hand. Kojiro tried to breathe normally, and not do anything weird or creepy with his fingers; he just clasped them lightly around Kaoru’s, as they watched the lights of the festival fade up into the inky blackness of the sky.

‘It will feel shorter than it is.’

Kaoru was the first to speak, not looking at Kojiro, but not looking as desolate as he had a few moments previously.

‘Yeah, we’ll be super busy.’

‘But we can video call. At nights, and mornings.’

‘Yeah, of course. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.’ He flopped his head to the side on the backrest of the bench and grinned at Kaoru, who smiled back.

‘Damn, thought this was my chance.’

Kojiro laughed, and aimed a swat at Kaoru’s head, who pulled away and in that moment the contact of their fingers was broken. Kojiro looked down at his fingers, feeling slightly bereft, but Kaoru was already on his feet.

‘Come on.’

‘Where?’

‘Don’t you want to write your silly little wish thing?’

He smiled wryly and shook his head at Kaoru’s condescending tone. ‘It’s a nice tradition. And I like the legend.’

‘Urgh, you’re so sappy.’ Kaoru’s eyebrows twisted with judgmental amusement. ‘How did a sappy old grandma get stuck inside that giant body of yours?’

‘Says the guy who is studying programming but…also does calligraphy’ He pulled out a shit-eating grin, ready for Kaoru’s ire.

‘It’s a fusion! I’m going to make a whole new artstyle, just you wait, you uncultured baboon.’

Kojiro laughed as they began to walk toward the clustered bamboo branches, ‘I thought I was a gorilla.’

‘You got demoted.’ Kaoru aimed a kick at him.

‘You’ve got a primate rank system?!’

As he hung the tanzaku on a high up branch, he nearly jumped out of his skin as Kaoru appeared next to him, peering up in to the branches. Kojiro snatched the piece of paper down, shoving it hastily inside his yukata sleeve.

‘What the hell, Kaoru!’

‘I was interested to see what you write so intently each year. Is it a different wish each time? Or the same one?’ Kaoru’s expression was unreadable, his eyes curious but guarded at the same time, and Kojiro was struck with sudden fear that he had hidden the tanzaku too late and Kaoru had seen.

‘If you peeked at it, you’d know what it said already,’ he grumbled mulishly.

‘I just missed.’ Kaoru grinned at him cheekily, lip ring pulling upwards in the smile and glinting under the lantern lights. His other piercings, gathered over the past year or so, shone equally bright, and Kojiro almost found himself dangerously lost in staring before gathering himself together.

‘If you tell people your wishes they don’t come true, that’s the whole point.’

‘That probably depends on the content of the wish.’ Kaoru stared at him for a moment longer before shrugging, tucking his hands into his sleeves and sloping off. ‘Hurry up and tie it on so we can go!’

Kojiro stood there silently for a moment, trying to work out what Kaoru had meant, before shaking it off as just a Kaoru-ism, and quickly attaching the slightly crumpled tanzaku to the branch and hastening after him.

Twenty-two

Kojiro landed back in Okinawa on his birthday, flight touching down just after 5 in the morning. He usually slept ok on planes, but something about the combination of turbulence most of the way and his building nerves about seeing Kaoru again for the first time in four years had rendered him completely incapable of doing more than trying to zone out to bad movies and lying there with his eyes closed determinedly not sleeping. As he shuffled along the queue through immigration, his eyes felt like they were full of hot sand, a headache beginning to thump behind his temples. Baggage in hand finally, he exited customs, and walked blearily into the arrivals hall. His eyes scanned the sea of faces tiredly until he spotted a shock of cherry pink hair in the crowd. He towed his two giant suitcases forwards, hitching his backpack higher, all fatigue falling from him as he quickened his step, lurching into a half-run towards Kaoru, who watched with an amused smile on his face.

Pulling to a stop in front of him Kojiro let go of his bags, letting them clatter to the floor with a loud bang, and flung his arms around Kaoru, squeezing him tight. He felt Kaoru’s arms encircle his sides as he hugged back awkwardly over the backpack and squeezed tighter.

‘Argh, you’re crushing me, you monster. How did you get so big?!’

Ah, I don’t want to let go.

He swallowed thickly around the lump building in his throat and reluctantly released Kaoru from the bear hug. The pink-haired man staggered back, straightening his glasses and smoothing out his hair, which was gathered into a loose braid falling over his shoulder. Kojiro wanted to stare at him for longer, drinking him in with his eyes, and then hug him some more, but something told him not to push his luck.

‘You’ve seen me plenty on video calls. And I don’t think I’m that much bigger than when you came to visit?’

‘That was two years ago, idiot, and you definitely have. Did you eat nothing but protein shakes or something for two years?’

He laughed at the scowl in Kaoru’s voice, and bent to retrieve his bags. ‘Nah, I just got really into the gym I guess.’

Plunging himself into intense exercise had helped numb the endless ache that wracked through his chest all day, every day, at being unable to see Kaoru for so long. After a while, it became a habit, and then as he got stronger he began to enjoy it for itself, and felt accomplishment each time he pumped the weight bracket up a little bit, or had to buy a new jacket because the old one was too tight in the arms and chest.

‘What about you, four-eyes? Did all that peering at tiny numbers finally make you go blind?’ He poked at Kaoru’s cheek below his glasses, earning him a deeper scowl and a sniff of disapproval as Kaoru straightened them again.

‘I’ve had these for a couple of years, I’ll have you know.’

‘Eh?! You never showed me!’ He gaped at Kaoru in shock. ‘Wait, so does that mean you’ve been looking at me all fuzzy and out of focus every time we spoke? No wonder you didn’t know what I looked like.’

‘Obviously not, imbecile.’ Kaoru smacked him over the head with an open palm. ‘I wore contacts.’

‘Why bother, just to call me?’

Kaoru didn’t answer immediately, and Kojiro noticed a small pink flush on the tips of his ears. But it was gone as soon as he tried to think about it further, Kaoru yanking one of his suitcases from his hand and beginning to march in the direction of the carparks.

‘Come on, I’m not standing here all day.’

He slept most of the day, having been dropped off at his family home by Kaoru, who had to head off to meetings, apparently. After being hugged and pinched and squeezed by all members of his family, he’d fallen onto his bed, out like a light. Sunlight slanting in at a low angle fell across his face, rousing him from the depths around sunset. Groaning, he wished that he’d tried harder to stay awake during the day, because now there was no way he was going to sleep properly tonight. He dragged himself into the bathroom to stand under the hot water for a long time, trying to feel slightly more human, and when he emerged, dripping water from his hair still, there was a folded yukata on the seat next to his clothes.

‘Mum? What’s this for?’

He heard Chie’s voice call back. ‘Aren't you going to the festival?’

He blinked for a moment, as lukewarm droplets rolled over his forehead and dripped from his nose. Right. It was his birthday. The tanabata festival. He towelled himself off briefly, rubbing at his hair and shaking it out much like a wet dog emerging from a pool. It had grown out significantly during his stint in Italy, a combined result of laziness and compliments it had attracted as it got longer and wavier – something he’d hated in Japan, where naturally waved hair was teased mercilessly by children of any age. Wrapping the towel round his hips he padded out and found his mother in the kitchen, reading a book while simmering something in a pot on the stove.

‘Did you buy me a new yukata just for today? You didn’t have to do that, Mum; and besides, I don’t think I’ll be going, it was always Kaoru who invited me to go with him so-’

‘I didn’t buy it, silly.’

She was looking at him with a twinkle in her eye, and that little tugging smile at the corners of her mouth that he was familiar with from when she was scheming something, or had just heard something juicy on the grapevine.

‘Huh? Then why-’

The smile got broader. ‘Kaoru-chan came and dropped it off while you were sleeping. He said it should be the right size.’ She cast an appraising eye across his torso, shaking her head lightly. ‘I don’t know how you got so big, you’re almost twice my size now!’

He laughed and demonstrated his new strength by hoisting her into the air and spinning her around, causing Chie to squeal girlishly before being deposited back on the floor, giggling.

The new yukata was the perfect size. Crisp cotton swathed him as he pulled it on, fastening the dark green obi over the charcoal fabric with its subtle bamboo motif. It was elegant, subdued, and adult; he would have picked something more colourful.

As he walked towards the shrine, steps slow and easy in the cloying summer heat he found himself stopped every hundred yards or so by someone calling out to him, welcoming him back, or simply trying to flirt. It was slightly surprising, but not unpleasant; he felt a weird mixture of embarrassment and gratification at the attention. He turned them all down though, with easy smiles and waves, finally arriving at the entrance later than he had intended, with a chuffed smile on his face.

‘I see you traded your punctuality for pheromones in Italy.’ Clipped and icy, Kaoru’s voice struck out at him from where he stood, arms crossed, leaning against a pillar. His expression was severely unimpressed, a scowl laden across his brows, the line of his lips thin.

Kojiro laughed lightly, running a hand back through his bangs. ‘I guess people here have better taste than I remembered, huh?’ He flashed a winning smile at Kaoru, whose expression didn’t change. The pink-haired man huffed, and shifted his weight, dropping one hand to tug a fan out of his golden-toned obi. The dark red fabric of his yukata accentuated the whiteness of his skin, while also drawing out of the pinks of his hair and lips, and Kojiro found himself dangerously on the verge of staring. He cleared his throat, and took a mental step back from that particular ledge.

‘Ok, sorry, sorry; I didn’t expect to have so many people talk to me, I promise.’

Kaoru hmphed, and ran his eye down Kojiro’s body, making heat bloom in his body where it passed, and a confusing blend of nervousness and confidence fill him. He knew he looked good. Kaoru didn’t say anything, his raised eyebrows the only hint that he saw anything worth looking at.

‘Like the view?’ He attempted a flirtatious smile, and instantly regretted it, feeling stupid in the face of Kaoru’s flinty glare.

‘I was assessing whether I had obtained the right size for you, which, of course, I have.’ Amber-gold eyes glinted coolly as they took in the open neckline and partly rolled up sleeves. ‘Although it’s rendered redundant by the ridiculous manner in which you’re choosing to wear it.’

‘It’s hot, Kaoru, gimme a break.’ He rolled his eyes, but not before he caught Kaoru’s gaze lingering on his exposed chest. It made something flare inside him, a little spark of something like hope, that he thought he’d given up on a long time ago. A spark which was warming enough to be slightly emboldening. ‘My face is up here, sweetheart.’ He winked, as bright colour suffused Kaoru’s cheeks. His mouth opened furiously to retort, but before he had a chance Kojiro laughed and draped his arm around his friend’s shoulder, steering them inside the shrine grounds. He tried to ignore the way he heart was hammering inside his chest, and hoped that Kaoru couldn’t feel it.

Wandering the stalls, Kaoru had long since shrugged Kojiro’s arm off him, and they took in the sights and sounds and tastes of the festival at a companionable distance. The pink blush in Kaoru’s cheeks had vanished completely, and he behaved as though they had been doing this every year without a four-year break. Kojiro felt like an idiot for being the only one slightly on-edge, tense in an expectantly curious way, slightly unsure of the ground on which he stood with his friend, having been gone so long. They had spoken almost every day, either by video call or text, but having Kaoru back next to him physically was doing things to his heart that he thought he had left behind in his teens. He volleyed the casual insults and snark they threw back and forth at each other with ease, but found his eye drawn much more often than was safe to the pale gap of skin at Kaoru’s throat, and the tight lines of his back and hips as he bent over stalls. The cascading pink hair, longer than when he had left, was gathered into a loose bunch on one shoulders, strands framing the sharp planes of Kaoru’s face, softening them in the lanternlight. He threw his head back and laughed at one of Kojiro’s jokes, who found himself caught unprepared, breath taken from him at the wide smile, the crystal laugh, the soft creases of Kaoru’s cheeks as his face moved. Italy hadn’t helped; it had only made things worse.

He had known that, of course, deep down. This wasn’t a summer crush that was going to fade away with distance. Kaoru had implanted himself so deeply inside his heart that the roots of this feeling spread throughout his entire body and soul; to remove them would be to take most of himself away. He had vaguely hoped that the distance would allow him to be calmer around the other man, to think about him less than every second of the day but he had missed Kaoru so much that he had texted him every day, and had leapt across the room every time his phone vibrated in response, thrilled that Kaoru hadn’t given up on replying to him yet. He had longed to see him, to be close to him again.

And now he was, it wasn’t enough. The feelings that he’d let simmer on a low heat for four years were almost boiling over, hot peaks threatening to spill over the edge. His throat was dry, his hands were hot. He suddenly realised Kaoru was talking to him, and shook his head slightly.

‘What’s your problem? You keep staring at me.’ Kaoru’s tone was not as cold as earlier though, and his golden eyes were laden with a hint of something Kojiro couldn't quite make out.

‘Uhh…do I? Sorry, I’m just spacing out a little…’ He rubbed a hand over his face, and smiled reassuringly, suddenly aware in saying it just how tired and spaced-out he actually felt. He needed to get a grip.

Kaoru sighed. ‘Go sit. I’ll get us a drink.’

‘Huh?’

‘Have you forgotten how to understand Japanese?’

‘Um, no, just – you offering to get a drink for me out of concern is so touchingly out of character I’m confused.’ He ducked as Kaoru’s fan whipped out towards his head, holding his hands up defensively as he backed up, laughing. ‘Ok, thank you.’ He slumped onto a bench just behind them, and watched as Kaoru picked his way through the crowd, slim column of burgundy crowned with cherry blossoms.

Kojiro sighed, and rested his face in his hands. He had to say something, this was ridiculous. His fatigue and jet-lag were lowering his guard and making him be so damned obvious that it was a miracle Kaoru hadn’t confronted him about it already. What if he already knew? And wasn’t saying anything because he hoped that it would just go away, or to save Kojiro the embarrassment? But that seemed overly tactful for Kaoru; unless, of course, these four years had given him a greater dose of diplomacy and self-control than he had when they parted. Kaoru was different, he knew that. He was more reserved, movements and expressions more contained; except when he was talking directly to Kojiro. It was that subtle shift in body language when Kaoru faced him that had landed Kojiro in this mess tonight. He couldn’t help but read more into it, projecting his own ridiculous desires onto Kaoru’s behaviour when in actual fact he had absolutely no basis for doing so. Kaoru had not once shown any inkling that he reciprocated Kojiro’s feelings, as much as Kojiro might have wanted to think otherwise. He knew that, had known it all those years ago when he decided to reserve knowledge of his feelings for the stars only.

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the tanzaku he’d written earlier that evening, but not tied up yet. He hadn’t fastened it to the bamboo because….why? Because he had decided to take action and try and grant it for himself? He laughed bitterly, a quiet puff of warm air into the night. No. He wasn’t as brave as that. It was because he had wondered if by doing this each year, maybe he was just making it worse for himself. Maybe instead of granting his wish, it was just making him hold on to the empty promise of something unattainable.

You don’t know unless you try. Which was true, except it wasn’t as easy as all that. He had more to lose by trying and failing than by sitting on it for as many years as he had to. If he said something now and Kaoru rejected him then that would be the end of their friendship; he couldn’t possibly. The risk wasn’t worth the return, and Kojiro had never been much of a gambler, despite the impression his reckless skating style might give otherwise. He couldn’t gamble with the friendship, with the person, who meant the most to him in the world.

But what if he doesn’t reject you, the voice niggled at the back of his brain. To be honest, he had never really considered the possibility, and so here beneath the tanabata stars he did. Just for a moment. He allowed himself to imagine that he told Kaoru he loved him, had loved him for years, and that instead of laughing in his face Kaoru told him he loved him back, and they-

‘Argh…’ He groaned aloud, cradling his head in his hands, knees on his elbows. His heart was thumping almost painfully in his chest, just at the thought of it, a happiness the preserve of dreams and wishes only. Could he? Was he strong enough to try?

He raised his face and scanned the stalls, and spotted Kaoru, who appeared to have got halfway back and been waylaid by someone drawing him into conversation. Kojiro stood, and moved to join him, shaking his internal crisis somewhere into the back of his mind to be dealt with another day. But as he drew closer he noticed something about Kaoru’s body language that told him this wasn’t just an acquaintance who had stopped him for a chat. Kaoru’s upright posture had been surrendered, his hips slightly canted to the side, creating an undulating curve in his body-line in the slim-fitting yukata. He had placed their drinks on a small bar table near his elbow, forgotten, and leaned on it with one hand holding his fan to his lips, while tucking his hair behind his ear with the other. The fan partially hid his lips from whoever he was talking to, but from where Kojiro approached he could see a smile on them, and could see a warm light in Kaoru’s eyes. He was flirting. That much was as plain as day. The realisation hit Kojiro like a kick to the stomach. The man, whoever he was, was older than Kaoru, and dressed in an expensive looking suit shirt, open at the neck, sleeves rolled up, and he was laughing. As he did so, one hand moved forwards to rest on Kaoru’s forearm. It wasn’t withdrawn.

Kojiro felt like he’d had the air punched out of him. He stood, gaping, struck dumb for a moment before his body took action of its own accord and he lurched forward awkwardly without having thought of what to say. Kaoru looked up as he stumbled into his field of vision, and as he did so, quickly withdrew his arm from the other man’s touch. Kojiro knew he had to say something. ‘I- sorry to interrupt.’ He blurted out the words hurriedly, before turning on his heel and walking off.

‘Kojiro, wait!’

He heard Kaoru’s voice behind him but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t turn around now, because he knew his face was twisted in such an expression of agony that no-one would want to see it.

He kept walking, forcing himself not to run like an idiot teenager with a broken heart.

When he got home, he stripped off the yukata and went to flop face-down on his bed when his eye caught the colourful strip of paper that came fluttering out of his sleeve.

‘May Kaoru love me back one day.’

He laughed, a dry bark laced with bitterness and regret. He had been sitting there, indulging himself in imagining what it would be like if this wish were granted, at the same time as Kaoru was proving to him that it was impossible. He was angry, upset; but he knew he had no right to be. Four years is a long time, and that’s even supposing that he had said something to Kaoru before he left – which, of course, he hadn’t. So he had absolutely no right to be angry. Which just made it worse. Kaoru had every right to flirt with, sleep with, fall in love with whoever he wanted; Kojiro had no claim on him. He never had.

He stared at the tanzaku, bearing the same words he’d written every year since he was sixteen, even in Italy, tying a piece of paper to a tiny sprig of bamboo he managed to find in a florists.

It was time to let go.

Twenty-four

Kojiro found he was more stubborn than he’d realised. Letting go of any faint hope of reciprocation in his feelings for Kaoru was easy; he hadn’t held a lot to start with. Letting go of the feelings themselves? Had proved impossible.

Not for want of trying. He had avoided Kaoru’s company as just the two of them for a while after that, easing himself back into the other man’s space in the presence of others, until he found that looking at Kaoru’s face and his arm where someone else's hand had rested, didn’t hurt anymore, and he was able to act normally again. They didn’t speak about it, and it was allowed to slide under the bridge of passing time. S helped, by letting him pour energy into skating, the competitiveness between Joe and Cherry Blossom allowing him an outlet for anything pent-up that threatened to spill over emotionally; he could just throw it all into a beef. He won some, Cherry won some, and he found he was able to laugh and banter with Kaoru again as normal. And it felt good, whatever version of their friendship this was. He knew, with the hot rush that flooded his chest every time Cherry pulled off his mask and Kaoru grinned at him, that he was never going to get over this.

So he had tried replacing Kaoru’s face in his mind with someone else’s. He stopped turning down invitations and insinuations, allowing the hands that sought out more of his flesh to take it now, rather than shrugging them off. The dates were fun; he liked girls, they were cute and soft and a pleasure to be around, and all his dates pleased so very easily. The sex was good too, he liked being able to take control and give pleasure without effort. But always, niggling in the back of his brain, was the thought that it was too easy. He liked a challenge, he always had. Kaoru was a challenge he enjoyed, their banter and bickering a kind of duel he had honed his weapon in since their school days, and seeing a genuine smile or laugh at the end of an exchange was like winning a point. And so whenever his partner for the night gasped in pleasure, or cried out his name, so quickly, so easily he couldn’t help but wish for more of a challenge; couldn’t help but imagine how hard he would have to work if it were Kaoru instead. If he closed his eyes, Kaoru’s face were would float behind them, taunting him with his absence, and so he would keep them open. He was controlled, and giving, and no-one was dissatisfied, but the easiness of it allowed his mind to wander to what it would be like if he were not the one in control. If he surrendered that control to the pink-haired man who haunted his dreams and allowed him to do what he liked to him. He came particularly hard when he first imagined that, alone in his room for once, panting over his clenched fist on the bed.

Outside of S, and bedroom fantasies, Kaoru was just as indispensable a part of his life as ever. The planning and financing of Sia la Luce had been, he admitted, largely done thanks to Kaoru’s input, his meticulous mind and very good connections allowing Kojiro to establish his own restaurant in far less time than would be usually possible. He had not admitted it out loud, but there was no way he could have done it without Kaoru, and the fact filled him simultaneously with annoyance and gratitude. When Kaoru made snide comments about his choices of décor and changed them subtly to align with his preferences, it verged more towards annoyance. But when he was getting Kaoru to taste test new dishes, and every critique came back detailed, painstaking and obviously invested, warm gratitude blossomed alongside those other feelings in his chest. He made sure not to make the same mistakes as before, no long lingering glances, no stupid misinterpretations of actions. Kaoru was his friend, and the opening night of the restaurant tonight was as much due to his help as it was to Kojiro’s effort.

They had chosen to open on tanabata eve, his twenty-fourth birthday. A midsummer feast for everyone who had supported him, and who had believed in his dream, welcoming him back home warmly and allowing him space in their hearts and city again. Even though it was an Italian restaurant, there was a branch of bamboo in the corner, and it was already laden with the wishes of his staff and family members, the children happily rushing over to write theirs on the most colourful pieces of paper they could find, before being called back to the table for dessert.

It wasn’t quite perfect, minor kitchen mishaps and a small number of hiccups in service were carefully noted, to be discussed and avoided another time. But nothing could detract from the buoyancy which suffused the room, filled with all the people who brought and wished him joy, keeping a smile permanently spread across his features without effort, a light, bubbling warmth in his chest. Bubbles which, turning to collect Kaoru’s plate and being met with a smile glowing with approval and pride, became burst wide open, filling him with heat and an unexpected rush of emotion. Fingers fumbled on the edge of the dish and alarm flared in those golden eyes for a split second as Kaoru’s hand shot out to prevent disaster; but Kojiro gripped hard and steadied and grinned, reassuring and sheepish in equal measure. He blinked to clear his vision as he made he way back to the kitchen, the brightness of Kaoru’s returned smile lingering afterspots like staring into the sun too long.

As the last plates cleared, and younger guests were shepherded home to bed, the family and friends said goodbye. Chie hugged him tight, demanding he bend to her height before murmuring in his ear, ‘If you haven’t managed to tell him yet, tonight’s the night!’

He pulled back and stared at her, warm brown eyes sparkling bright and mischievous, and he wondered not the first time, how this woman was 23 years older than he was. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mum.’

‘Oh yes you do. Now stop being stupid and apply some of the effort you applied to tonight to something even more important.’

He opened his mouth to retort, but Chie had already turned, rounding up the last straggling family friends and herding them out the door with graceful efficiency. He had to smile, if somewhat wryly. It had been years since she’d last asked him about how he was progressing in his relationship with Kaoru, stubbornly refusing to let it lie despite his repeated protests that there was no relationship, other than friendship, and she really needed to stop. The last time she’d asked had been after that night two years, when he’d stormed home from the festival and hadn’t spoken without his jaw clenched in anger for two days. So what made her bring it up again tonight? He threw a surreptitious glance over his shoulder at where Kaoru was gathering up table decorations with one of his floor staff, but noted nothing particularly different about his expression to indicate some kind of radical shift in attitude that might have been noticeable to someone else. Shrugging to himself, he returned to the kitchen to help finish clean up.

When he emerged an hour or so later, he expected to find the restaurant empty, and so stopped mid-step when he realised someone was still there, sitting in the half-dark of the remaining few lights that were on, and a couple of candles dotted along the bar.

He took a breath, and let it out. ‘Hey. Thought you’d have gone home.’

Kaoru sat at the bar, legs crossed on the stool as he ran the tip of one elegant finger along the rim of his wine glass. The candelight burnished sunset shades in the pink of his hair, turning his eyes to molten gold.

‘Congratulations.’

He blinked, then grinned, surprised but pleased by the frankness of Kaoru’s tone, warm with pride. ‘Thanks.’ He took the last three steps that would bring him up the bar, and settled into the seat next to Kaoru’s. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you. Really.’ He picked up the bottle, two-thirds empty, and held it up. ‘Thank you, Kaoru.’

Kaoru’s eyebrows raised in amusement, but he picked up his glass and clinked it lightly against the bottle. Kojiro’s lips were lifted in a smile as he placed the neck of it to his lips and drank a swig.

‘Refined, as always.’ Kaoru snorted.

‘I just washed up all the glasses, seems reasonable to me.’

‘You missed one.’ Kaoru gave the glass a small shake in the air, before tipping it back and swallowing the last few drops. Kojiro watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and shifted his eyes elsewhere rapidly.

‘Yeah, well like I said, I thought you’d have gone home already.’

Kaoru shifted on the seat beside him, turning almost imperceptibly in Kojiro’s direction, and leaning his chin on one hand. ‘Do you want me to go?’

There was a long pause. Kojiro’s mouth was suddenly parched as he scanned Kaoru’s face for his meaning, for a clue as to what he was supposed to say next because to be honest, he had nothing; except the truth.

‘No.’ It came out breathier than he’d intended. His face felt hot all of a sudden, as some kind of anticipation bloomed along with paralysing fear inside his belly. His mouth moved before he could control it. ‘I don’t want to you go.’

Kaoru held his gaze steadily, his expression something unreadable, the closest candle reflecting off his glasses. Kojiro’s eyes flicked downwards to where one of his hands lay on the bar top, just inches away from Kaoru’s, then back up, drawn in by bright gold. He swallowed.

A small smile played at the edges of Kaoru’s mouth, save for which his expression was supremely controlled; only the flicker of his pulse beating fast against the delicate skin of his neck gave the tension between them away. Kojiro’s own heart felt like it was doing its best to leap out of his mouth.

He shifted on the seat, to do what he hadn’t quite worked out yet; and then froze, as a coloured strip of paper fluttered to the floor, having dislodged itself from the back pocket of his pants, freed from the apron that had been preventing its escape. Eyes widening in dawning horror, he lunged for it, but he was too slow. Kaoru’s fingers got there first, snatching the pink slip of paper up and out of Kojiro’s reach, unless he stood from the chair and fought for it. Every muscle in his body on edge, he held himself in check, sitting still, breath held.

Kaoru held the tanzaku between his fingers, but didn’t look at it. Instead, he kept a steady gaze on Kojiro, locking him in place with his eyes. ‘Do you want me to guess what’s written on this?’

Kojiro didn’t answer, reeling slightly from the sudden realisation that maybe he’d come to it, that moment he’d dreaded the most out of all the possibilities he’d dreamt up over the years, the very worst possible outcome of Kaoru knowing how he felt about it. That Kaoru knew, and was going to mock him for it.

He steeled himself, jaw tight. He would take it, like a man, and then it would be over.

‘I’m guessing you already know.’ The words were bitter-edged, like burnt coffee, drying out his tongue.

Kaoru’s expression didn’t change, impassive, watching Kojiro coolly. ‘If it’s the same thing you’ve been writing for the past eight years, then yes, Kojiro. I already know.’

His flush crept past his control, his acceptance of his inevitable mockery, burning his face bright and hot in shame. ‘If- if you knew, then why didn’t you say something sooner? Why leave it til now?’

‘I think that should be my question, don’t you?’ Kaoru’s expression was different now, there was a fire in his eyes, anger almost. ‘You’ve been writing these since we were in school, but you never tried to do anything about it. You’ve been looking at me with those eyes for years, and every time I think that you’re going to do something about it, you run away from it. From me.’

Anger flared inside him. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me.’

‘I’ve been running from you? Give me a fucking break Kaoru, how was I supposed to do something about it? You make it sound so easy but…it’s not, ok. I’m sorry I’m not as brave as I look but I couldn’t bring myself to tell you just to have the words flung back in my face with some backhanded insult like anything else I say to you.’

He stopped at the change on Kaoru’s face, anger transitioning into wide eyed shock, and hurt.

‘Is that really what you think I’d do?’ Kaoru’s lips were twisted, a pained crease between his brows, tension in the lines of his cheeks and jaw.

And in that instant, he knew how wrong he’d been, and how much that error in judgement had cost him.

‘I-’ he was almost breathless with regret now, pain at the already apparent loss of not just his childhood love but his adult friendship bloom hot and deep across him, carving a scar before Kaoru had even had a chance to say the words. He bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

A different pain, much harder and sharper and more present flashed across his cheek, its origin made apparent as his head snapped back from the force of Kaoru’s punch. His stool rocked backwards and he had to grip the counter for support to stay upright, bringing his head back up and clutching at his mouth, fingers coming away tinged with blood.

Kaoru was on his feet, shaking his hand from the pain of the impact. He held it with his other hand and glared at Kojiro for a long beat. ‘You always do that.’

‘Huh?’

‘Give up.’

He blinked, slightly dazed still from the solid punch he’d just received. Kaoru continued. ‘I can see it happen, every time. Every time you acknowledge this thing between us, every time you look like you’re on the edge of acting on it, doing something, and every time I’m about to let you, you pull back. You stop yourself. You give up before you’ve started, and before I’ve had a chance to give you my answer.’

His mouth was open now, eyes widening as he stared at Kaoru, who was trembling slightly head to foot, eyes afire with an emotion Kojiro had never seen there before. He watched uncomprehending as Kaoru reached into his sleeve and drew out a small pile of paper slips, clenched them in his fist for a moment, and then slammed them on the table in front of Kojiro.

Coloured paper slips designed for hanging on bamboo branches at tanabata, laden with wishes, desires to be heard by the stars, to be granted by the heavens, and for their eyes only. Except these ones had never made it onto the branches.

His eyes fell on them, scattered colour on the wooden bar top, elegant black lettering in Kaoru’s hand stretching across them, repeated on every one the same phrase.

‘May I have the courage to tell him.’

The floor felt like it fell away beneath him, plunging him into weightlessness, disorientating and dizzying. He dragged his gaze back up to Kaoru’s face.

‘You…’

A pink flush was spreading across Kaoru’s cheeks, and his lips pressed together in a firm line.

‘You-’ he stood from the chair and stepped towards Kaoru, who took a step backwards on instinct.

Kojiro stepped forward again and planted both hands on Kaoru’s shoulders. He drew breath, shakily. ‘You felt the same…and you knew how I felt…’ He gripped with his fingers and began to shake Kaoru as his voice raised. ‘Why didn't you say anything?!’

Kaoru flinched backwards for a moment at the volume before gripping Kojiro’s wrists and shoving back, face jutting towards him in anger as he yelled back ‘WHY DIDN’T YOU?!’

‘Because I thought you would never feel the same way about me!’

‘You didn’t even try and ask to find out!’

‘You accused me of not saying anything when you literally wrote wishes about telling me!! What the hell Kaoru!’

The flush deepened on Kaoru’s cheeks, a shade of red that clashed violently with his hair. ‘You’re supposed to be the emotionally open one, you idiot!!’ He drew back his head and then snapped it forward, headbutting Kojiro with such force that it sent them both reeling backwards, clutching their foreheads.

There was silence, other than the sound of their heavy breathing filling the room.

Kaoru moved first, sinking back onto a seat and clutching his head with a low groan. ‘This was not how tonight was supposed to go.’

Kojiro snorted, and perched on the edge of the bar next to him. Now they’d finished yelling, the adrenaline pumping through his body had backed off a little, and he was left to focus on the tension in the air that had been there before the tanzaku slipped from his pocket. His heart-rate redoubled.

‘Don't look at me like that.’ Kaoru’s tone wasn’t angry any more, just irritated.

‘Like what?’

A glare. ‘Like you’re waiting for me to say it first.’

Kojiro’s mouth opened, and closed again. He could feel his pulse pounding against his neck, practically sending vibrations through him and into the bar with its thunderous volume. The air was suddenly thick and hard to draw breath. He swallowed, closed his eyes, and opened them again, refocusing his gaze on Kaoru’s eyes. There wasn’t the hard light of anger or irritation in them now, but something more vulnerable, something waiting, paused on a knife edge of tension.

‘I love you. I’ve been in love with you for at least eight years, probably more.’ He cracked a crooked smile. ‘Sorry I didn’t tell you before.’

Whatever it was that had been waiting behind Kaoru’s gaze, held in check by highly strung tension and apprehension, spilled over. A hot, rich flow of emotion poured out of them and into him, warming him from the core and drawing him in until he felt like all he could see was honey-gold and the smile that spread unheeded and uncontrolled across his own face was mirrored in those eyes and on Kaoru’s face.

‘I love you too, idiot.’

He laughed, gripped by delight and disbelief all at once. His years of daydreams and imaginings could never have prepared for the reality of what hearing Kaoru say those words would actually sound like, what it would feel like. That it would feel like everything he knew was breaking apart around him, his whole world shifted on its axis and reforming, centring him around his man and the fact that he loved him. He loved him.

He bent down, placing one trembling hand on the back of Kaoru’s chair, their faces so close now he could feel the warmth of Kaoru’s breath on his lips and see his own eyes reflected in those golden orbs.

‘Who peeks at other people’s wishes, seriously.’

Kaoru’s lips quirked upwards, and Kojiro felt his hand come up to rest lightly but firmly on the back of his neck.

‘Shut up and kiss me before we waste even more of our lives.’

And so he did.