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No matter what it is his high-nosed relatives say, tea from Taiwan certainly beats whatever flavors that Kyoto can offer. Their versatility is equally balanced with their tradition, and every batch, every pot lends a fresh experience. This one tonight comes with a somewhat creamy aftertaste, its aroma reminding him of butter or caramel, or whatever is in-between.
One sip, and Kaoru feels his soul relax, a smile dancing on his features when he sets down the cup next to its matching pot. After inching it slightly further away from his laptop, he puts his fingers back onto his keys, each one framed in purple backlight. He’s ready to face the long night again, like his mind has cleared and opened up to new ideas.
And new sounds. “Hm?” He’d only noticed this one just now, in fact—that shy hush that seems to sit with him in his tiny tatami room, at once pervasive and evasive…
“Carla?” Kaoru keeps his face trained on the plain tapestry hanging on his eastern wall when Carla’s puck-shaped hub lights up at the corner of his eyes. “Is it raining tonight?”
“Yes, Master.” Something flashes in front of him and he turns to his bigger monitor to see an animated cloud raining over an hourly forecast for the night. Kaoru touches his glasses briefly as he looks closer; chance of precipitation peaks at eleven to twelve midnight, though the humidity remains more or less the same.
“Thank you, Carla,” Kaoru says, returning to his work.
Barely a minute passes before Kaoru pulls up his weather widget again, eyes lingering on its lively animation. He could probably ignore it tonight, he thinks. It rains all the time in Okinawa, there shouldn’t be a problem this time around…
Another long minute later, he’s sighing as he presses his fingers into Carla’s hub, so that the plastic surface gives and releases Carla from her pod. “Carla, push the code and set my machine to sleep,” he tells her as he fits her around his wrist. “Is Kojiro’s Location switched on?” He gets up to his feet.
“Yes, Master.” Carla responds swiftly.
“Good.” Kaoru hasn’t made it to his bedroom yet when he’s already working his obi loose. “Calculate the closest route between me and Kojiro.”
“Roger that, Master.”
—
It all started some seven, eight years ago, on another rainy evening with an address that is some 20-25 minutes from his place.
Kaoru is still catching his breath, having run most of the way over, when he spots the cafe at the other side of the dark road, its sign already turned over and windows shuttered. If not for the lamp post standing closeby, he would have completely missed Kojiro’s sulking figure by the steps. He’s dressed nicely tonight, in a handsome midnight blue blazer that Kaoru had bought him as a birthday gift, a gray shirt and a pair of jeans that has darkened from the rain. Kaoru remembers, then, that he had a date that evening.
A quiet curse escapes him before he hurries over to his best friend’s forlorn shape, looking left and right at the empty road too late. “Kojiro!” he calls him.
Kojiro doesn’t look at him—not until he’s standing in front of him, umbrella held out to be shared between them. It’s probably the shadows, Kaoru thinks…or Kaoru hopes. But Kojiro…looks…
Well…he doesn’t look good. His eyes are heavy, and though normally bright, they feel clouded now. By alcohol…or whatever—the stuff Kaoru doesn’t want to think about. Kojiro has always been a bit on the bigger side of things. In the classroom, he always sits at the back, and he’s always placed at the corner of a class picture.
But tonight, he looks…miniscule, almost invisible without his blazing smile or his boisterous voice that has gotten deeper still since his last birthday. They’re the stuff that Kaoru has always known him for, along with his presence by his side, never absent and never overwhelming. The wicked glint in his eyes when they’re off to do something stupid and the size of his hand when it wraps around his wrist as he pulls him through a crowd.
They’re gone. Kaoru can’t find them. And it’s frightening, to say the least.
Kaoru sinks to crouch in front of him, and reaches for his shoulder to give him a shake. He utters a, “Hey,” before he cups the side of Kojiro’s jaw, trying to get some form of a reaction from him. It shouldn’t be this hard, they’re best friends. “What is it? What’s going on, Kojiro?”
It takes a moment still, but Kojiro does respond at least. Finally.
On the concrete step of the quiet cafe, he inches forward, and wraps his long arms around Kaoru to pull him into an embrace. Where he tucks his face behind Kaoru’s shoulder, the only safe space for him to put down his walls and cry…
—
“You got dumped?” Kaoru starts, gaping at his friend. He’s sitting next to him now, both of their umbrellas opened out to protect their feet from the ongoing rain.
Kojiro says nothing. Eyes looking off into space, he nods, still ghost-like even after he broke down earlier in Kaoru’s arms.
“Why?” Kaoru asks, shrugging. “You were like the perfect boyfriend! You cook for her, you always waited for her after classes and you always carried her stuff. You’d even cancel skate nights just to be with her!”
“Not enough,” Kojiro sighs, shaking his head, heavy like an elephant. “I guess it’s never gonna be enough.” He rubs his face in his hands and runs them over his previously styled hair until his wavy locks are sticking all over the place. “I, I don’t
know what else she wanted. She tells me…” He carries his hand up to his shirt. “Sh, she tells me…that whenever we’re together…it’s like she never has my attention. Sh, she said that…that she always felt like an afterthought!”
“Well, what is it that she said that she wanted, then?” Kaoru shrugs. “Does she want to take over your life? Does she want you to get rid of your skateboard just so you could carry her shopping bags for her? Take pictures of her in her cutesy dresses in some expensive cafe?”
“I—” That beat of laughter that escapes Kojiro sounds misplaced and right at home at the same time. He rubs his face again, hands sliding down slowly. With a shrug and another cough, he says, “I dunno. Maybe?” He tosses his hand to Kaoru. “Women can be like that, right?” Right.
Kaoru doesn’t know for sure. He’s never been interested to find out, but it suits him for Kojiro to be right in this department.
He snorts, looking off into the distance. “I knew there was a reason why I never liked her in the first place.”
“Oh now you’re telling me this?” Kojiro laughs, turning to him. “You said you were happy for me when I told you I got a girlfriend.”
“Well, what else did you expect me to tell you, you dumb gorilla!” Kaoru snaps back, looking incredulously at him. “The truth? That I thought she was ugly?” And that he was disappointed that after all the time they spent together, Kojiro would choose someone else instead of…
“Maybe?” Well, Kojiro is smiling now, at least. And the world starts to feel right again, a square peg just a little off-center in its square hole. “You’re my best friend, you were supposed to be honest with me.”
“Thatʼs not what you would have told me if I’d admitted my innermost thoughts, dimwit,” Kaoru snorts, folding his arms in front of him and bracing them against his knees. “You’d tell me you wished I’d support you so that’s what I did. I congratulated you, I listened to you ramble on and on about her. I even helped you find her gifts whenever you fought, I even tasted the stuff you made for her even though they could have been for me.”
“Hey, I gave you some of those!” Kojiro chuckles.
“What I’m saying is,” Kaoru starts again, off-tangent this time. “After everything you did for her, it’s not your fault that she still finds you lacking. If a person loves you,” he’s gesticulating, “like truly loves you…then he—then she should love you for who you are! And not for the stuff she can get from you.” He flails outwards for effect.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Kojiro concedes…though only so he could carry his chin on his hand, elbow parked atop his knee, and ask him, smiling, “Where’d you get all that?”
“Huh?” Kaoru frowns. Actually, what he wants to tell him is, It’s me, you vapid simian.
But instead, he shrugs and mumbles, “Dunno,” as he reaches for his many earrings to fuss with them. “Itʼs just obvious, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Kojiro says again, still smiling. It’s all he says and does, actually.
Did Kaoru give himself away there? He hopes not, even though his cheeks are already burning when he realizes what he’s done. Luckily, everyone still thinks he’s straight. His parents said no dating until he graduates and they think he’s taken it to heart, when they don’t know that his gay son has been pining for his best friend since they were in elementary school. He knows he’ll never have a chance with him since he likes girls but…
Well, he also knows he’s…not unhappy that that woman is out of their lives now.
“C’mon.” Kaoru dusts down his pants as he stands up. “Let’s get some soba, it’s the perfect weather for it.” He stretches out his hand towards Kojiro.
Grinning, Kojiro takes his hand and joins him.
—
Kaoru’s watching the numbers tick by, and yet when the light flashes red, it still catches him by surprise and he has to smash his foot onto the brake before he bumps into the car in front of him. Behind him, a quick honk goes off like a squeak of surprise.
A snarl rolls out of him when he hits his head on his knuckles, all white from gripping his steering wheel too tightly. He’d been thinking back to that first night when he found Kojiro miserable in the rain and had almost caused an accident in the process. Foolish, he chastises himself. You’re an idiot, Kaoru.
He pulls his head up and glares about him. The rain has yet to let up—and if anything, it feels like it’s only gotten louder. His wipers are hard at work in their medium setting, and everywhere else is washed out colors, a city that’s desperate to sleep in spite of the reds and the golds and the whites glowing like fairy lights past his windows.
“Carla,” Kaoru beckons his bracelet, glowing purple in attention. “Any flooding near the area?”
“Minor flooding spotted 500 meters west from your position, Master,” Carla reports, her map on the dashboard zooming out to show him the location in a radiating purple dot.
Kaoru puffs out a quiet growl, frowning at the bad news.
“Moreover,” Carla continues, sliding the map leftwards to show a green figure progressing to the east of him. “I’ve detected a movement on Kojiro’s location and selected the best route for Master to reach him.” This one is highlighted on the map by a blinking purple strip.
Kaoru glares at the tip, then at the minor road forward and right of him. He’ll have to wait for the stop light to change but it should be a quick enough turn once he gets there.
“Thank you, Carla.” As soon as the traffic light switches, he flips the signal and starts to edge himself closer to the corner.
—
All the way up there, in Kojiro’s tiny eighth-floor apartment, Kaoru can still hear the frustrated orchestra of Italian cars honking for attention. Though if it weren’t for the strange bottles with Italian labels (Le bottiglie, Kojiro’s voice tells him in his head) lining up the tiled counter, Kaoru thinks he would have forgotten where he was. It’s the same in Okinawa, though he’s an entire ocean or two away from home tonight. Angry traffic, endless rain…and a best friend who’s somehow gotten himself hurt again.
Kaoru isn’t yet familiar with Kojiro’s kitchen here, especially since he shares it with his Spanish classmate, but he grabs the freezer door open like he’s about to rip it off without a care for its owners. A quick survey of the empty box shows him no signs of an ice pack, but there is half a package of sausages sitting just at the side of the top row. It would have to do for now.
He grabs a tea towel in a drawer next to the fridge and marches off, wrapping the frozen protein in the fabric. When he gets back to Kojiro, he’s still on the floor, right under the single window that looks out to the downpour, heavy enough to appear like white noise by the city lights.
Kaoru grunts out a sharp tut when he reaches for the open window and pulls it in, screwing it shut. “Iʼm not going to wipe your floor for you, gorilla,” he scowls.
Kojiro says nothing—doesn’t even look at Kaoru when he kneels down beside him and reaches for Kojiro’s cheek with the cold sausages. Kojiro flinches and pulls away from him.
Kaoru swats him on his arm, remembering too late that he’d found the guy on the bar floor, tucking his face under his elbows while a white man was shouting profanities at him, even with red down his nose. If it hadn’t been for the assailant’s friends dragging him away and the bouncer waddling into the scene, Kaoru is sure he would have bashed the white man’s sorry face in with a chair. Instead, he’s only left to pick up his friend from the floor, under the watchful gaze of another bouncer who wouldn’t even lend a hand.
“What happened?” he’d asked him, then.
“Guy was a bastard,” Kojiro snarled.
“I thought you were friends?”
“Thought so, too.”
“Where’s Giulia?” His girlfriend.
“Where do you think?” Nowhere to be found.
“Stop being a baby,” Kaoru chides him, touching the bundled sausages gently on Kojiro’s cheek, just near the arch of his bone. “Shouldn’t have gotten into a fight in the first place. What the hell got into that brainless head of yours?”
“He started it,” Kojiro mumbles between his pouting lips.
“He was bigger than you!” Kaoru won’t go easy on him. “And you’re a foreigner! You didn’t think about that when you engaged him?”
“I couldn’t just sit back, okay, Kaoru!” Kojiro snaps, and when he finally glares at him, it’s like his chocolate eyes are glinting like knives. “If you heard what he said about you, you would’ve punched him in the face, too!” Wait—him? Why him!
Kaoru opens his mouth, but nothing comes of it. He’s confused—he’s even more confused now, in fact. What happened in the bar, it was supposed to be a friendly get-together. It was a Friday, someone got a voucher for free first rounds and invited their friends—Kojiro included. Kaoru understood he wasn’t invited and he understood why, too. He was only a visitor! And the voucher was limited. But then Kojiro told him to come along, right in front of his friends so they had no choice but to urge him to come, as well. Even though Kaoru could tell from the onset that Giulia was less than pleased with the idea.
It started off on a good note—good drinks, good company, good music…and Kaoru had even danced a little with Kojiro before his sheltered upbringing caught up with him. Kaoru excused himself to the bathroom to relieve himself and to freshen up, fix his hair and all that. When he stepped back out, everyone was already screaming and Kojiro was already on the ground.
“Why me?” Kaoru asks.
Kojiro looks quietly at him for a moment, before he relents with a huff and a tut, shifting on the floor so he can slump against the wall. Kaoru readjusts the sausages. “Giulia and I quarreled while you were in the men’s room. She said something about you and I didn’t like it.”
Kaoru sighs. He shouldn’t be surprised anymore…and yet he should be. By all rights, this…can’t be a good habit! “Let me guess—she was jealous of me again.” Again. Thatʼs the word.
Kojiro smiles shyly at his conclusion. “You’d know it.”
“Itʼs the same story every time, Kojiro!” Kaoru huffs, lowering the sausage pack to his lap. And every time this happens, Kaoru gets a little bit hopeful again, even a little selfish. What if…just maybe, what if he still had a chance with his best friend? What if miracle upon miracles, Kojiro is gay, too? It’s getting tiring, this whole thing. He doesn’t even feel gratified anymore that Kojiro has put him above his relationships. Again. He just feels used now. “How many times has it been now? Are you opening up a club of exes where, to get in, they have to be jealous of me?” Kaoru presses his hand on his shirt.
“Are you saying that I should have been able to help it?” Kojiro protests, gesturing to the rainy window. “Kaoru, you’re my best friend! We’ve known each other since we were kids and I never kept that a secret! All my friends, all my girlfriends,” he tosses his hands up and lets them fall onto his lap, “They all know that! They all know you’re probably the most important person in my life right now.”
“If I were your girlfriend,” Kaoru sighs, nodding slowly, “I would be jealous, too.”
“They should know that, though,” Kojiro mutters, looking off into the gray shadows of his apartment. “They should have. Instead, I have Giulia telling me I don’t give her enough attention and now here’s Marco calling you a third wheel.” Kaoru jumps on his knees, fists tightening. “I hate that. I hated hearing it.” Him—a third wheel.
Has it already gone that far? He loves his best friend—no matter how many times he’d hoped to be the one to have him only to be heartbroken when he finds someone different…no matter how stupid and how blind and how frustrating he is, he’ll always love him. Not just because he’s handsome, and that he cares about him and that he cooks him the best meals, but…for everything. In every way, he loves him, thoroughly for who and what he is and isn’t.
But that doesn’t mean Kaoru can just sit back when Kojiro is clearly suffering because of him…
Kaoru’s eyes slip to his hands braced on his knees. “W, well, m, maybe…maybe you should stop.”
“What?” Kojiro mumbles after a long moment.
Kaoru shrugs sloppily. “Just…stop…telling them about me.”
“What!” The crackle in Kojiro’s voice brings Kaoru’s attention back to him in a snap. How should he say this…there was a look about him that was shocked…devastated? As if the idea that he was forbidden to talk about his best friend to his future girlfriend, singular or plural, was the worst thing he could ever be sentenced to. “And why not? Kaoru, you’re my best friend—”
“I know that, dummy!”
“So there’s no reason why they shouldn’t have to live with that!” Kojiro says. “You said it yourself—if anyone wanted to be with me, then they ought to love me for who I am. And that includes you!”
“That—” Kaoru growls, head falling forward so he can grab his forehead, at an utter loss for patient words. “You dense gorilla, that’s exactly why you keep getting dumped and that’s also why you get punched in the face!” He slaps both hands onto his shirt. “You keep ruining all your relationships because you keep pushing me into it!”
“Well, if it’s a relationship without you, I don’t want it!”
Kaoru hiccups in surprise, hands faltering. Why did he say that? Why did Kojiro have to say that?
It takes Kojiro a second before he realizes what he said. He glances away, then, chewing on his lip.
“Kojiro.” Carefully, Kaoru leans forward, until his hands are touching the floor, scant millimeters off Kojiro’s outstretched leg. “Why would you say that? Why would you…” He doesnʼt know what he’s saying, so he trails off.
And Kojiro is still glaring at some place where he couldn’t meet him in the eye.
“Kojiro,” Kaoru tries again. “Why would you want me in your relationships? Why would you look for me there?”
Minutes pass, and he doesn’t think Kojiro will ever answer him. He doesn’t want to hear his own voice repeat those damning questions either.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Kojiro mumbles before too long, sniffling. “You’re my best friend.”
—
The rain’s let up a little now. Some much-needed grace on top of Carla’s good news:
“Kojiro’s location has stopped moving. Current location: his residence.”
Kaoru allows himself to breathe, finally, as he navigates the one-way street that Carla had led him to. Somehow, it feels like even the world has stopped holding its breath and set itself in motion again. The shops are still bright and warm, and there’s people along the sidewalk now, their colorful umbrellas hoisted up. Walking on home, sharing a conversation, stopping by the mini mart for a late dinner at home…
He signals right when he catches sight of the store next to it, strewn with golden lights.
“Kojiro hasn’t moved yet, has he?” Kaoru asks when he parks beside it and punches the hazard light on.
“No, Master.” Good.
If Kojiro’s home, he’ll likely stay there for the night. Kaoru pushes the door open.
He cries out as soon as he steps out into the rain. Between his pressured thoughts and his car muffling the outdoors, Kaoru hadn’t considered that an umbrella might still be needed.
This is going to ruin my haori, Kaoru snarls, pulling it tighter around him. All the same, he charges forth, headlong into the warm interior of the shop. There’s no mistaking the fragrance of flowers here…
He nods briefly to the proprietress behind her counter, makes a beeline for the basket of sunflowers as soon as he spots it and grabs all three of what’s left without checking the price. He has it wrapped in a pretty lavender crepe sheet, and then in a protective plastic.
Outside, he tucks it under his haori as he hurries back into his car.
—
To think that those flowers gave him hell long ago. They were supposed to be bright, proud beauties but in Kojiro’s hands…crushed by Kojiro’s hands, they looked miserable. As miserable as the man standing in front of him, soaked to the bones by the rain after he chased Kaoru when he stole out of his restaurant.
He’s sniveling like a coward, too, shoulders hunched forward, shivering under his chef’s jacket with the ruined sunflowers held out like a desperate peace offering…but he wouldn’t even look at him still. Kaoru can’t believe it…Kaoru can’t believe he’s fallen for this, this…this moron, this stupid…stupid, idiotic…!
“What?!” Kaoru cries. It’s too much for him to contain. He should be grabbing him by his hands and dragging him back into the restaurant so he could care for him and soothe him…but after all that Kojiro did and didnʼt do, Kaoru can’t find the love in him anymore. It’s too little and too late. “Is that it? Is that all you can do?! Some cheap flowers and a bumbling apology?”
“Kaoru,” Kojiro rasps, shaking his head. “Please, I’m sorry. I should have realized that you were with me all this time…I kept looking for you in all the wrong places, all the wrong women…but you have to understand—”
“That you’re scared to admit that you’re not straight?” Kaoru rakes his hair up, seething at the man he can’t even see anymore behind his drenched glasses. “Well, what about me? What about your best friend? Who always has to be happy for you even though he’s liked you since he was 12?!” He grabs the collar of his kimono. “Did you ever think about that? Did you ever think about what I felt whenever you found someone else who wasn’t me?!”
“B, but we—” Kojiro stammers, offering the sad flowers again. “W, we can start again! I, I’ll do better this time, I’ll be braver…” He swallows down. “I won’t hide what I really feel anymore, I promise!”
“What for, Kojiro?” Kaoru chokes, shaking his head. “Iʼm tired. You dragged me around ‘cause you wouldn’t own up to your sexuality…and now, you’re just expecting me to jump right into your arms like I won the contest?!” He’s jabbing his finger to his chest. “Thatʼs not fair, Kojiro! That’s not fair for me!”
“I know, and I’m sorry!” Kojiro cries out, still holding the flowers out. “Please, just stay with me. I don’t want you to go!” Stay…yes, Kaoru has always stayed by his side. Like a lingering ghost, unseen and translucent. Kojiro doesn’t want him to go, but what about what he wants? What about all those times he wanted Kojiro only to be denied again and again? Should he just forget about all that? Forgive and move on?
I want… Kaoru shakes his head, marching backwards. Much to Kojiro’s rising terror. I want you to understand what I felt for a change.
“Kaoru,” Kojiro calls him but Kaoru turns his back to him, his feet never stopping. “Kaoru!” It’s music to his ears, Kojiro crying desperately for him.
And the silence of his response…it’s more exhilarating than he expected.
—
Kaoru doesn’t call ahead to ask for permission. As soon as he finds Kojiro’s address, he turns into the gap between the low wall and parks at the driveway, blocking the motorbike that’s sheltered by the back wall. A fresh snarl rolls out of Kaoru when he kills the engine and pushes the door open, bracing for the rain again.
He would be the idiot caught with his haori worn over his pink head like a nun’s veil when the porch lights up, and the front door swings open to reveal Kojiro still in his outdoor clothes, an umbrella halfway opened in his hands.
That is how he found his way to Kojiro’s dinner table, and into his gracious host’s own clothes, as well. With his haori and his kimono set aside to dry, he’s forced to suffice with an old pair of sweatpants that is no longer fashionable, and a hoodie that is brandished with his Italian school and a big ugly stain from a bleach accident on the lower right. No matter—this one is actually Kaoru’s favorite.
And what a perfect night to wear it, too. Outside, the rain is a heavy downpour again. And inside, the air smells beautifully of kombu and katsuobushi boiling away in the kitchen, mingling perfectly with the orange tea in his hands.
Kaoru savors the citrusy flavor on his lips when he sets the cup down in its little plate, turning it so that the painted design faces him correctly. Across from him, Kojiro is smiling at the vase of sunflowers at the center of the table, feeling its petals on his poking finger.
“They’re so pretty…” Kojiro sings.
Kaoru covers his amusement in a snort. He takes his long hair and fixes it just so over his right shoulder. “If I knew you were going to be fine, after all, I wouldn’t have rushed my way here.” Which was a lie—he doesn’t regret being here, after all. Especially when he’s looking forward to a warm bowl of soba, topped with mimiga, strips of aburaage, shallots and saffron hair, with a promise of seconds.
Kojiro pipes up with an inquisitive, “Hm?” round, chocolate eyes flying to him. He straightens up. He’s dressed out of his going-out clothes now, too, into an old band shirt and a pair of jersey shorts. “Well, if you didn’t make your way here, I would have called you over, anyway. I mean,” he shrugs, “I know that’s how it’s always been between the two of us but,” he directs his thumb over his shoulder, towards the kitchen. “I really intended to cook for two tonight.”
Kaoru stops with his cup in mid-air. Now it’s him regarding Kojiro with a coin-shaped look.
Kojiro smiles at his surprise. “Itʼs our anniversary.” Their anniversary? “Remember? You came back for me.”
After turning his back on him in the rain, in the end, Kaoru couldn’t abandon the one man who gave his life its meaning. It was like leaving his shadow in the middle of a busy train station—the right side of his body, all the best parts of him. There had been nothing smart, or suave about it either. Suddenly, he just stopped walking, cursed the gods for his weakness and bolted right back to Kojiro who was on his knees, those poor flowers left for dead on the concrete. He pulled him up to his feet and they reunited like long lost lovers. The next day, Kaoru was down with a flu. Two weeks after that, they went out on their first official date. That was their anniversary for Kaoru—not this one.
“I remember,” Kaoru tells him, anyway, putting his empty cup back down the table and sliding it next to the coffee press with the slices of dried oranges at the bottom. “That was still…both the best and the worst night of my life.”
“Aw, I see it more in a positive light,” Kojiro laughs slightly, reaching across the table to take Kaoru’s hand and run his thumb over his knuckles. “I mean, I came out to the guy I’ve been secretly in love with my whole life, and I owned up to it, too. And best of all,” here, he tosses in a wink, “I was forgiven for it.” Well, the gorilla isn’t being smug about it tonight like he usually is…
That warrants a reward, Kaoru thinks. A tiny smile dances on his face before he carries Kojiro’s knuckles to his lips to kiss them. He lets go when Kojiro shakes him off so he can cup Kaoru’s face on his jawline, his thumb brushing the arc of his cheek.
“I’m so glad you stayed with me,” Kojiro tells him. Well, it wasn’t like Kaoru knew where else he could go. No matter how many times he felt like he’d been shunted to the sidelines of Kojiro’s love story, some luckless substitute looking longingly at the star role of Kojiro’s sweetheart…
The fact that it’s been his all along, following a series of needless disappointments and regrets…
Well, maybe Kaoru should take a hint and see things at a better light, as well.
He takes Kojiro’s hand so he can kiss the heel of his palm, and like a cat, he rubs his cheek lovingly upon it—a man at peace with the world.