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It was Osamu who attempts to address the situation.
“Keiji, do you feel different lately?” He had asked nonchalantly, hoping that Keiji would see the worm dangling in front of him and take the bait. Keiji doesn’t bite.
“Different?” He says, sliding his finger down the book page and flicking it over. “Different how?”
Osamu hums. He’s sitting on the opposite edge of the sofa. At some point in time they had gotten so used to accommodating the child that usually sits between them that they stopped making their way back to each other. At first subconsciously, then deliberately.
“Y’know, do you feel different about” he hesitates. “Us?” At that Keiji puts his book down and looks towards Osamu, an indication that this conversation is really, finally, going to happen.
Keiji opens his mouth to speak, closes it, ponders over his words, then opens it again.
“About us?” He asks. Keiji’s making Osamu do all the work.
They’d been married for five years, dating for eight. It’s not like Osamu didn’t love Keiji, he would do anything for him, but over the years his love has changed. As had the labels which characterised Keiji; stranger, friend, crush, boyfriend, fiancé, husband, family, home.
But sometimes you become too familiar with your home, too content, too comfortable. You learn how they like their scrambled eggs; a pinch of salt, a dash of pepper and a whole lot of cheese. You learn that they sleep on their left side, then their right side, then their stomach before finally settling down on their back. You learn about what makes their fuses blow, what makes their floorboards creak, and what makes them hum, sing, moan.
But people move homes, for a variety of reasons. And for Osamu, it’s for a change. A chance to start fresh, chase something new and shiny, and potentially find a spark that had been long extinguished. Osamu loves Keiji, truly, unequivocally, but there are no more hidden nooks to discover; Keiji’s all too familiar and all too warm, and Osamu knows him inside-out. He thinks Keiji feels the same way about him too.
“I just..” He speaks as if he’s walking on eggshells, hesitant, weary, despite the fact that he feels Keiji and him are on the same page. Still, he would never want to hurt Keiji if he was wrong. “Y’know I feel like we’ve become different around each other.” He finishes, looking at Keiji.
Keiji contemplates this for a while, he’s always had a habit of elongating conversations, preferring to mull over his thoughts as if he were deciphering the taste of wine. Smoky, fruity, mundane.
“I’ve noticed it too.” He says.
“Oh.” Osamu speaks, slightly bewildered that they were both admitting it.
Despite knowing everything about each other. Despite being around each other for the past eight years. There has never been a moment more awkward than now.
“So.” Keiji continues. “What do we do about it?” He raises a brow inquisitively expecting Osamu to have the answer. But Osamu doesn’t have any answers, he has no idea. This is foreign, something that he would have never foreseen a few years ago, let alone a few weeks ago. He had resigned himself to the fact that they would remain with one another for the rest of their lives, despite the possibility that it may always remain dull. Their relationship had been decaying for a while but it was never in the we-can’t-stand-each-other way. He had always thought that come spring next year, or the year after that, or even the one after that, somehow, they would begin to bloom again.
Time is said to heal all. But, it also wears things down.
“I dunno..” He says, truthfully.
Keiji laughs. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I’m confused Keij’.” He sighs, frustration seeping through his voice. “Well, do you have any ideas?”
Keiji shuffles a little closer to Osamu, so that the space between them is barely non-existent.
“Well there are plenty of things we can try.” Keiji says. Osamu begins to worry that the close proximity between them is an indicator that they’re talking about different things. This conversation reeks of ambiguity and potential disastrous miscommunications.
“Like..” Osamu offers, afraid Keiji might be talking about a holiday or having another child.
Keiji looks at Osamu and lifts his eyebrows as if Osamu is supposed to know. He doesn’t. So they sit silently, awkwardly trying to spur on the conversation. Keiji caves first.
“We could try a marriage counselor or couples therapy” He says averting Osamu’s eyes, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Osamu feels a sigh of relief, they’re on the same page.
“Yeah.” He agrees maybe too enthusiastically, he tries to offer up an idea of his own. “Or even… maybe...we could…” It takes what feels like years for Osamu to complete the sentence. “Take a break.”
“A break?” Keiji asks, eyes agape. Shit. Osamu looks at Keiji with all the fear in the world, as if he’s pushed a baby bird out of its nest and doesn’t know if it managed to fly or if it fell meekly to its death. Maybe Keiji wanted to try?
“If the marriage counselor doesn’t work out.” He stammers quickly, trying to save himself.
“Actually, I think a break might be what we need.” Keiji says.
“Oh.” Says Osamu, marginally disappointed that Keiji hadn’t been more angry, that he was probably feeling the exact same way as Osamu.
“What about Yuto?” He inquires.
Yuto, their four year old son, who lays peacefully in their room, exhausted after a big day of playing with his cousin. Yuto, their child, who sleeps between the two of them. The same child that they stare at lovingly, affectionately. Hushed whispers about how adorable he is, frantic calls about how he’s running a fever. Sleepless nights, busy days. He’s become their whole marriage, he’s the reason why they’ve stayed together for so long. But the hushed whispers were soon forgotten, and instead of looking lovingly at each other, they poured all their love into Yuto.
“I think we’ve both been thinking about how it would affect him this entire time, and that’s why we haven’t done anything.” Keiji replies, matter of fact.
Osamu hums in agreement, brows furrowing together as he begins to picture what the future will look like.
“It’s going to be different.” Keiji says.
“It’s going to be difficult.” Osamu corrects. “Are ya sure this is something ya want Keij?”
“Do you remember when we met?” Keiji says, a new warmth acquired in his voice.
“Always.” Osamu says, lifting his hand to rest it on Keiji’s hair.
“You said that fate brought us together, that it was written in our destinies.” Keiji says, wonderment and awe in his voice, a tender smile on his lips.
“Yeah, but that was just a stupid ruse to get ya to go out with me again.” Osamu chuckles, continuing to comb through the other man’s hair. Keiji leans into his touch, pressing his cheek against Osamu’s hand.
“I know, it was really stupid.” He laughs. “But, Osamu, is it stupid of me to say that if we’re destined to be together then we’ll find our way back to each other.” They’re staring at each other, and for the first time in a while, Osamu feels sadness at the prospect of losing Keiji.
Keiji is home, or has been his home, for years. He’s filled with the memories that have made Osamu. He smells of Osamu’s youth, tastes of Osamu’s adulthood, and when he looked to the future, Osamu would always see Keiji. He reminds Osamu of where he’s been and where he’s yet to go, but still, Osamu is choosing to leave.
“No, Keij’, it isn’t stupid at all.” He leans in, bumping their foreheads together, they’re in the eye of the storm, a sanctuary of repose as the world around them begins to crumble. Osamu can feel tears nipping at his skin, they feel cold. He can feel Keiji’s shoulders begin to shake as well, he’s crying too.
“Keiji, baby.” He says. Keiji looks up at him, tears still falling down his eyes. “You won’t have to look too far.” And with that he places a chaste kiss against Keiji’s lips, holding him close, not wanting to let go.
This isn’t going to be easy for both of them, to have a love as saccharine as theirs and to choose to let it go, it’s bittersweet. But they also know that it’s a decision that’s needed. It’ll take time to figure out the logistics, to deal with the fine print and minute details, so for all the time they have left together, they’ll make it worth it.
And later, Osamu will begin to hang onto the hope that destiny will bring them together, once more. Forever.