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You would think that there would be some sort of commotion at any hour in the middle of a public park, but that didn’t seem to be the case tonight.
It was dead silent; the bench they sat on was just far enough away from the middle of the city to avoid the sound of bustling that was prevalent even in the middle of the night. They could see the lights in the distance, as far away physically as they felt from each other — even though they were sitting five feet apart.
It’s a saying, somewhere, that silence is deafening. It certainly felt that way. Black Jack wanted to break it. He couldn’t bring himself to. After all, he hadn’t been the one to invite Kisaragi here. It was the other way around, he justified to himself, and if Kisaragi wanted to speak, he would. Black Jack would just have to wait until he did or he didn’t. And if Kisaragi chose to say nothing after telling him to come all the way out here, well, that was on him. His fault.
Black Jack had to repeat this train of thought to himself many, many times. He still didn’t quite believe it.
And then he heard something.
A clear of the throat, a tentative shift. Kisaragi leaned back and took a deep breath, a rather long process before he spoke.
“...Kuroo.”
And Black Jack looked at him over his shoulder, seeing Kisaragi fiddling with his hands. They clenched, unclenched, clenched again, then clasped together. Then he let go, and repeat the motion again. He wasn’t looking back, so Black Jack did the same — he looked away from him again. It felt inappropriate to be staring, if Kisaragi wasn’t staring back.
“...Yes?” Black Jack said finally, having not realized he hadn’t replied for a moment. He wasn’t very good at this.
What was this?
“Do you remember...” Kisaragi trailed off almost as quickly as he started.
“Remember what?”
“...Ah, it’s nothing.”
Black Jack found himself surprisingly invested in what Kisaragi had began on, and doing his very, very best not to look over to the other side of the bench, decided he’d encourage him.
“No, you obviously wanted to say something. Go ahead.”
“It’s... it’s dumb. Don’t worry about it.”
“I insist.”
Kei let out a breathy sigh. He hadn’t quite planned this out, he just couldn’t handle the silence anymore. Anything to make them talk. “Oh, fine. Do you... do you remember the time... that time when you covered for me? When—when you told Dr. Hiraoka that it was your fault that the Maruyama case had gone unfiled, but it was really because I’d been up almost the whole night before and completely forgotten to take care of it?” he sounded like he’d said it all in one breath, trying to push it out as fast as possible.
“I can’t say I do.”
“...Oh.”
Another pause. Perhaps Kei should have just stayed silent. He couldn’t feel like he’d just made it worse.
“That’s... rather specific. Why do you ask?”
“I... I just realized that I never thanked you.” Kei paused, realizing he’d made it awkward. “So... thanks.”
Black Jack blinked. “...You’re welcome?”
Kisaragi did not reply, and instead Black Jack heard him stand up. He looked back over at him, and saw him stretch before sighing again.
“Well. That’s all.” Kisaragi said bluntly.
“Are you—are you su-“
“We’re not very good at this whole catching up thing, are we?” Kisaragi gave him a lopsided smile, finally looking back at Black Jack, with just a twinge of sadness visible behind his glasses.
And Kei began walking away. What was he doing? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want to feel like he was wasting his time. There was a kind of distance between him and Black Jack that he supposed he’d never quite be able to close — especially considering he’d put it there in the first place.
But as he turned to walk away, he heard Black Jack stand up as well and call after him.
“W-Wait.”
Kisaragi turned around just in time to see Black Jack obviously turn away.
“...I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?” Kei asked, frowning a little in confusion.
“I know—I know that’s not... the only thing you wanted to talk about. I made it... uncomfortable. I’m sorry.” He still didn’t look up.
“Uncomfortable, huh?” Kei replied, tilting his head to the side. “Not at all. In fact...” he watched Black Jack finally look in his direction. “It’s my fault. I asked you here, and yet said almost nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He gave a little smile, just to emphasize it. Black Jack didn’t seem convinced.
Probably because they were even farther apart than before, standing — a position that allowed the both of them a quick and easy escape. They were obviously uncertain, and everything from the way they wouldn’t make eye contact for more than a few seconds to the way they stood as if about to run away reflected that.
“Perhaps,” Kisaragi continued, “it’s the situation itself.”
“How so?”
“Well... how could anything we do not be at least a little bit uncomfortable? It‘s all just too...”
“Different?”
Kisaragi nodded. “Yes. That’s a good way to put it.”
“I... I feel like it doesn’t have to be.”
Kei sighed again. “But it is. You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve avoided calling me by name this whole time, Kuroo?” He watched Black Jack freeze.
“You-“
“It was... a little bit obvious.” Kei laughed — lightly, insincerely.
“...I hadn’t noticed, honestly,” Black Jack replied embarrassedly.
Kisaragi shook his head. “I don’t think you meant anything by it.”
But Black Jack had to have. He never did anything without purpose, and this couldn’t be any different. There must have been something, even though it was unconscious. But he couldn’t quite wrap his head around whatever it was, and that bothered him more than the act itself.
So while Black Jack stood for what he thought felt like an eternity scratching his head and beating himself up about something that didn’t matter in the long run, Kisaragi spoke after a pause.
There were a lot of those tonight.
“You still... want to call me Megumi, don’t you?”
Black Jack tensed again, and caught wind of Kisaragi sighing once more.
“No, it’s— I understand. I’m not... angry about it.” Black Jack watched as Kisaragi walked by, placing his hand on the fence that overlooked Yokohama. He looked like he was taking in the sight, but he stared past it like he was avoiding eye contact not just with Black Jack, but with the city itself.
“I feel like I should be,” Kei continued, “I’ve worked so hard to, well... quit being a woman — like it’s a problem. I-I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being a lady, it’s just...” He clicked his tongue. “Not for me, I think. In the long run.
“And... in the end, it’s how you’ve known me, isn’t it?”
Black Jack didn’t respond for a moment.
“I... suppose. I’m sorry, Me— Dr. Kisaragi.” He huffed. “Damn, you were right. I fell right into it.”
Kei let out a laugh, and this time it felt a little more genuine. “Of course I’m right! Am I ever not? Perhaps I should have been a psychologist instead, no?”
“Well, then,” Black Jack stepped forward a bit, noting that the atmosphere felt lighter. “You wouldn’t be my competition.”
Kei looked at him and smirked. “You think you’re my competition? Kuroo, I’m way out of your league.”
“Are you, now?” Black Jack raised an eyebrow, but the fact his expression continued to stay almost entirely flat caused Kei to burst out laughing again.
“Oh, absolutely. Have you seen yourself? Compared to you... I think I look like a model.” Kisaragi smiled, batting his eyelashes.
And even though the gesture was completely done in good, playful humor, Black Jack undeniably felt something; like something in his chest clenched. Even just for a split second, there was something there. And he didn’t quite understand it.
Was it only because the man in front of him reminded him of the girl he’d been in love with what felt like so long ago? Or could it perhaps be that he realized deep down — even if he was still at least kind of in denial of it — that Kisaragi hadn’t really changed at all, and that his feelings had stayed the same?
He wasn’t certain. And he didn’t think he was a fan of that.
“...You have an unfair advantage,” Black Jack replied, brushing it all off as best he could — and he gestured to his own face for good measure.
He saw Kisaragi let out a slight, breathy laugh and shake his head.
“I don’t know if you know this, but I find...well, the way you look rather endearing. Is that shallow? Perhaps. But... you know, it’s honest. Hm. If we would be honest with ourselves, I think we’re all a little bit more shallow than we like to admit. Plus, other than that... it’s uniquely you. You wouldn’t be the Kuroo I know and lo— the Kuroo I know so well without it. Isn’t that right, uh, Doctor Black Jack?” Kei slipped up, and he slipped up bad. He tried to cover it up by playfully punching Black Jack in the arm, but quickly realized he had just made it worse instead. He just had to pray that Black Jack hadn’t caught onto his Freudian slip.
Sadly, there must have been no gods listening. Or if there were, they hated Kei’s guts.
“Dr. Kisaragi.” Kei looked up from where he was looking at the ground in embarrassment, up to Black Jack’s face. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Anger? Confusion? But the fact Black Jack was looking away from him and Kei couldn’t place what he was thinking at all was probably worse.
“Did you— did you, um, mean to say something else... there?”
“What’re— whatever are you talking about?”
The silence was back. And it was as loud as ever, screaming at Kei to get a grip— but how? Come clean? How would Black Jack react? How would he look at him, then?
...Would he even look at Kei again?
No, no, Kei was overreacting.
Or was he?
Before Kei could turn over the question a million more times in his head, Black Jack spoke again.
“...Never mind; I must have heard you wrong.”
Black Jack thought he heard Kisaragi let out a sigh of relief.
“Yes. Right. Then...” Kei’s eyes flitted from Black Jack’s face to the ground and back again. “I suppose— we both have things we need to do, correct? I’ve only got two days left on land and I’m sure you’re busy tomorrow so I really shouldn’t keep you out too late... B-besides, isn’t your... daughter..? waiting for you?”
Black Jack cleared his throat.
“I—of course. You’re right,” he confirmed, nodding. “I appreciate the time, Dr. Kisaragi. Do... let me know when you’re in the area again.”
After this? No, Kei was pretty sure he was never going to talk to Black Jack again. How badly could one guy embarrass himself?
But if he was going to be too embarrassed to ever speak to Black Jack again after this... he might as well give himself a better reason to be. Cool. Great. He’d tell Black Jack he still loved him, leave without another word, and never speak to him again. Not that Black Jack would ever want to, anyway.
“Actually... one more thing.”
Kei knew he turned around. Felt him turn around. Felt his eyes on him. They were warm. They melted to his core and bore a hole right to his soul. Like a flame on winter night his gaze was comforting, but if Kei got too close he would burn. And it would be irreparable.
“I love you, Kuroo,” he said, and the words tumbled out of his mouth almost out of his control, “I really, really do.”
If he could take it back that very moment, he would. Kei would have laughed, said he was teasing again — Oh, Kuroo, you should see the look on your face! — and if he was in his right mind, he would have. A million scenarios could have played out; Kei could apologize, could brush it off, could never said anything in the first place... but they didn’t.
He simply stood.
Couldn’t he have at least been more eloquent about it?
Your move, he thought, because if he simply thought of it like a game, there’s no way he could lose. And maybe if he kept telling himself that, it’d be true. He really just wished Black Jack would say anything. Anything at all.
But he couldn’t, considering he was more or less frozen in place by shock.
Black Jack didn’t show it, of course. He was known (to himself, at least) to be rather composed, and that would be the explanation he would use, as “too shocked to even look shocked” was a bit embarrassing, to say the least.
Kei noticed this, and took a deep breath. Quickly in, quickly out. He clapped his hands and smiled, beamed even, though it was pained.
“Well!” he said, just a bit too loud, a bit too abruptly, “This was...nice.” God, what a word to use. “It’s been nice. Getting to—getting to catch up with you. That daughter of yours is lovely, even if she is a little, um, loud. Give her my best! Good night!”
With that, Kei turned abruptly on his heel and began walking off and doing his very best not to hyperventilate. He didn’t know where he was going, he just knew he couldn’t be here. And then, if he could help it, he’d never see Kuroo ever again. A fear it wasn’t reciprocated wasn’t the issue — it would probably be worse if he did still feel the same way, because what would that mean for them? That they’d just been avoiding each other out of fear for the other for so many years? Absolutely not.
Kei just needed to get back to his hotel room. Then he could collapse and pretend it was all a bad dream.
It was really just his horrible luck that Black Jack was so much taller than him, because it took a dishearteningly short time for him to catch up. Kei felt a pull on his sleeve and found it suddenly much harder to keep walking.
Ah, shit. Maybe he should have ran instead.
(But he probably would have tripped and fallen over and been stuck in the same place, just in more pain. Fate really just hated him so much.)
Kei expects Kuroo to say something.
Black Jack expects Kisaragi to say something.
They are both ultimately disappointed.
It’s actually Kei who, despite his best efforts to think rationally, pulls his old college lover close. The embrace doesn’t last long, and he feels Black Jack initially stiffen in surprise before finally relaxing. He had always been much too on edge.
Once they pull apart, that’s it.
The night air feels cooler than before, once one has had a taste of warmth.