Work Text:
1
Yusaku was so accustomed to writing on post-it notes that he almost seemed to have developed a real passion for them, to the point that he took pleasure in collecting them. In reality, this was not the case at all; he simply found them useful, and once he had completed the task written on one of the slips of paper, he could clear the surface of the fridge to attach yet another one and so on, putting his every last bit of thought on display about what he had to do between errands, studying, and other activities.
The fact that he was the one in the couple who was still studying almost made him feel more like a kid than Ryoken, who was already working and had different commitments to which to devote himself. Maybe it was because of this that at some point Yusaku had realized that all his post-its were the same color, which was standard yellow
(never a change, nothing at all)
in an unconscious attempt to show himself a serious person in his boyfriend's eyes.
He didn't even know why he tended to act that way, he just knew that he was looking forward to graduating and saying goodbye to that strange habit he had of papering the surface of the refrigerator with all those yellow slips of paper summarizing in a few words what he had to do in the course of the day and the pages he was intent on studying in the space of two or three morning hours.
Therefore, when Ryoken came home one evening with a package of post-it notes all colored, Yusaku at first felt a little bewildered.
(«I saw that you were almost out of them and thought I'd buy them before I got home. What do you think of these? The monochrome ones weren't there...»)
(Yusaku had not been able to help but smile at such a kind gesture on Ryoken's part. He had always considered the post-its to be something “his”, but without excluding Ryoken in a negative way, rather not thinking, in the most naive way possible, that he didn't attach that much importance to them. Evidently this was not the case: Ryoken must have read them all, from first to last, from a simple reminder to Yusaku to buy some essential ingredients for lunch or dinner to the college topics he would study and review over the course of the week).
(And it was as if he made them his own, as if they were part of him, too. It was a wonderfully good feeling.)
(«These are okay too, thank you»).
(It all started from there).
2
Yusaku had to be honest: the idea of colored post-it notes was not bad at all; in fact, it was certainly much easier and more intuitive than little pieces of paper all the same color. This way he had the opportunity to assign a type of activity to each color, and his weekly plan looked much neater and made his thin, hurried handwriting look decidedly more graceful.
With something so simple, Ryoken had managed to improve everything. Yusaku also loved him for this: because even in the smallest gestures, Ryoken knew how to show him love in its infinite shades.
And those colorful post-its made their home even more lively in the same way that spring diluted the gloomy winter days with its sparkling arrival.
(Or maybe it was just a pale illusion...)
3
It had been several weeks since Yusaku had started using the post-it notes that Ryoken had given him, and had it not been for those and the support of his boyfriend, he would in all likelihood have collapsed in every respect.
He was working so hard at the university, to the point that his days had taken on an even more severe and tight rhythm, so much so that he and Ryoken were no longer spending a great deal of time together, and it was inwardly destroying him. He knew that it was only a period, that sooner or later all that heaviness would fade away, giving way to a much softer and gentler daily routine, but in that heaviness he was now so deep that there were endless nights spent sleeplessly drowning his thoughts in the anxiety that that period would never pass, that it would always remain beside him, perched like a hungry vulture on his puny shoulders.
As if all this were not enough, Ryoken was also very busy with work, and every hour they spent apart was a stab in the heart for both of them.
(It was as if spring had run away for them, slowly flaking away in their hands like a now-incinerated sheet of paper).
(Or maybe, even worse, it had never come).
4
That day Yusaku woke up with watery eyes. The spring was gilding the world outside, but it was as if it struggled to come near him, and this made him very irritable and exhausted – not to mention that he and Ryoken had even argued the night before, and it had broken his heart.
Everything was falling apart; he couldn't take it anymore. And maybe that was precisely why, once he entered the kitchen and set his eyes on the refrigerator, at first he felt one feeling only: that of panic.
5
There were several post-it notes not his own stuck to the refrigerator. And that elegant handwriting he would have recognized among them all: it was Ryoken's.
Gosh, maybe because of the discussion they had had the night before Ryoken had decided to
(leave for good)
take a break and had warned him that way, with a strange kind of farewell letter?
No, that was not like him... and yet Ryoken had written him something anyway.
So, after figuring out in what order to read each colored post-it note, Yusaku began, literally with his heart in his throat.
6
Yusaku, I am very sorry for what happened last night, I went too far and I should not have raised my voice to you.
I reflected on your words and finally realized that you are right: I have been working too much lately and this will definitely not do me any good.
If you'll allow me to use your own words, I think you've been overworked with your studies lately, too.
I think we both need to unplug, if only for a day, and breathe again... together.
Be ready this evening at eight o'clock; we're going out to dinner.
Do you remember the Italian restaurant where we went on our first date?
Would you like to go there?
Sorry again for being rough with you last night.
Remember that I love you and have missed you during this very difficult time.
I look forward to hugging you tightly tonight.
Ryoken
P.S.: I don't think on such short notice I will be given the day off for tomorrow, but fortunately the weekend is near... would you like to go to the beach?
7
Yusaku didn't realize he was crying.
In any case, fortunately, his were tears of joy.
«I love you too» he whispered, before opening the refrigerator to retrieve some juice and eat breakfast.
(Thus, at last, a small glimmer of spring also entered the house that desperately needed to be filled with love again.)
(Everything was going to be all right).