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It was 11:47 PM when Kaoru began plucking at a loose thread on his pillowcase. He laid down to rest, fading, and all he could do was pull on the damn thread. There was something about feeling miserable in body and spirit and being able to do nothing but pluck stray threads or stare at chipped pain between wall creases. The darkened room settled in with him, somehow an acquaintance and an enemy. They were the same.
He knew a half hour after he laid down that he would not be sleeping tonight. He knew before, but now it was set in stone.
It was like this: no matter how tired he was, no matter how his own skull tore at the seams, no matter how much melatonin or art therapy or how many stars were out, he could not, or would not, sleep. He shifted on his bed once more, sticking his feet out from beneath the covers. The later the night wore on him, the damper his skin became and the more he felt sick with an inexplicable, unsourced anxiety in his gut. All would be fine in the morning, he knew, yet he could not seem to logic the jitters away. He couldn’t make peace with the terror of restlessness.
Midnight, 1:37 AM, 2:55 AM. The more he checked the clock, the more he hated himself. There was something so intrinsically lonely about 3:00 AM and an empty house. Rather ungracefully, he clutched his pillow and drew it above his head, thinking that maybe sleeping on just the mattress would change something. It didn’t.
He exhaled in familiar aggravation, sitting up and moving things around on his bed like it would solve something. The covers, the hundred pillows, his laptop, and old clothes. The window popped open with a shove of his hand and the breeze that drifted in smelled like old rain and dust. He could see the mist hanging in the air from the streetlamp and breathed it in through the opening. His hands were shaking slightly, clammy, and a bit cold. Rolling out of bed, he stood in the middle of his room like he was his own ghost, peering around in his little darkness.
He glanced over as the shelf buzzed. No, his phone buzzed. He picked it up and squinted at the brightness level; an email from a subscribed brand sending him a special ad. Corporate loneliness was even worse.
I should call someone real , he thought.
That would disturb whoever he called, though. It would be more fun to hang out with someone. At least then he wouldn’t spiral, alone, in an empty bedroom. There was one problem: he didn’t want to awaken anyone else.
He tapped on the screen and scrolled through social media to take a moment to think. It was the cycle. Headache, thoughtless anxiety, blue light to make it worse. Endless photos of classmates, skateboarding video recommendations. There was one in particular by a semi-popular Japanese girl who was known for skating and parkour. She was so effortless in her movements that even difficult moves looked as natural as breathing. He opened his messaging app, hovering his finger over a particular name.
He sent the video to a friend who would appreciate it.
Bu-loop . An immediate response. He crouched down by the bed, leaning on his elbows while he opened the message. The brightness threatened to burn a hole through his skull, so he turned it down and squinted. It indeed was a reply from Kojiro.
Nanjo Kojiro: oh, she’s cool.
…
why are you awake so late?
He had to wipe a stupid smile off his face.
kaoru: Hypocrite. Why are you awake?
Three dots danced on the other end. He shifted and rested his mouth in his one palm. The darkness and single stark light was dizzying.
He waited for at least half a minute, all the while pulling at the pillow thread till it frayed. Then it drove him nuts that it was frayed, so he turned it around where he didn’t have to look at it anymore.
…
……
Nanjo Kojiro: homework
Kaoru’s eyebrows furrowed. It took that long to say one word?
kaoru: Missed assignments? Who could have predicted this?
He could feel the eye-roll through the screen.
Nanjo Kojiro: as if you aren’t studying right now
The breeze picked up, his hair prickled and he felt the coldness of his damp skin. Kojiro was still typing, so Kaoru remained silent. He didn’t like to stop people in the midst of their thoughts, even if Kojiro didn’t really have any.
kaoru: My midterm isn’t until next week. Why would I be up till 3 AM today? Studies prove that sleep enhances performance more than consistent, unbroken studying.
Nanjo Kojiro: well then. I’m screwed.
……
guess i’m prepared to live out of a van if i can't get through school.
Kaoru’s heart prickled.
kaoru: There’s always tomorrow. Just pace yourself.
Nanjo Kojiro: me? pacing myself? as if ;)
…
thanks, though
Then it was silent. He didn’t want the conversation to end so quickly. He wanted to be up all night now if it meant talking to him. If sleep would not come to him, the universe could at least make it worth it.
How badly he wanted him to stay now that he was here.
A second later, he tapped rapidly at his phone.
kaoru: Anything to keep you off the streets.
Nanjo Kojiro: on second thought, I’ll stay in school to keep you out of trouble.
…
kaoru: what’s that supposed to mean?
There was a long moment of typing.
Nanjo Kojiro: you’re just as destructive as me lol
The lol softened nothing. He should be offended, but instead he felt understood. The comparison made him feel… nice. Maybe that wasn’t the right word, or the right context, but what he had said was close to the truth. They were destructive in different directions.
kaoru: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am a vessel of good and charity.
Nanjo Kojiro: sure. definitely.
kaoru: Would you like help with your homework?
It took Kojiro far too long to answer than he liked. He always took so long to type short answers. It might also be that in the time he didn’t answer, Kaoru didn’t feel like much else existed. His hands and the little words existed– betrayed by how his eyes were heavy like rusted iron in his skull. It was like being inside of a little TV, and he was just another performer.
Nanjo Kojiro: wow. way to prove a point. thank you, good samaritan.
Truth be told, he hadn’t slept more than a few short half hour segments here or there in several days. Many days. Enough days that he felt delirious enough to walk around under street lamps to visit a boy. He stood up and pushed the window open till it landed with a dull thump . A bug flew in with pale, buzzing wings.
Nanjo Kojiro: you probably don’t even understand this stuff. it’s too simple for someone as complicated as you.
Liar , Kaoru replied. I’m coming over.
He gave Kojiro a moment to reply. When he didn’t, he grabbed a dark sweater that hung over his bedpost. Earlier that evening he had imagined the sweater was something worse than what it was. Now it was just a sweater. Something to keep warm. Digging around behind his closet door, he found his skateboard. It definitely needed new wheels, but that was a task for future him.
He was already out the window and knee deep in wet grass when his phone bu-loop ed. He barely glanced down.
Nanjo Kojiro: right now?
…
okay. see you soon.
Elated, his ribs tingled with a newfound activity. And maybe something else, like sneaking out for a boy. Man, they really haven’t phased out of highschool.
A nearby streetlamp buzzed faintly. The Okinawa air was still warm, but in a humid way where it prickled the skin. Somedays, it was nice to see a different world that was only noticeable at night when everything was still as water.
Kaoru dropped his skateboard to the ground and rode away.
Where Kojiro lived was not far by any means. It hit 3:17AM when he showed up outside a curved, sleek building. He knew exactly where Kojiro’s window was, deduced by the fact that he could see the duct-taped hole of where Kaoru’s kendama ball had snapped off the string and punctured the glass last week. Well, Kojiro’s kendama. He hadn’t replaced either that or the window, and he probably wouldn’t.
He picked up a rock. Then he set it down and picked up a pebble from the gravel on the sidewalk.
Plink.
He threw two more, shaking the rest in his other palm. In his mind's eye, he wanted to see a broad silhouette in the window, he wanted it to open at the sound of his request. Then, he got a message.
just come through the door, Kojiro had written. Kaoru huffed. One day he would understand the nostalgia of a gesture. Today wasn’t that day.
Like a normal person, he buzzed into the building and found himself in Kojiro’s student living space. It had a softness to it. Modernity. Kaoru was always partial to the convergence of tradition and progress. Not that the building was outstanding in any sense; no, it was just comfortable. And very, very small.
Kojiro managed to not own many things because, at the current moment, he preferred space over materialism. He had what he needed, and it was enough for now. Sometimes, Kaoru was ashamed of the wires and docks sitting in a corner, under the desk, or hanging from the wall. Papers and gears and tools and skateboards were organized– not in a way that was particularly clean, just in a way that made sense to him.
“Someday I’ll own a wall of stuffed animals that I won from all the girls whose hearts I broke,” Kojiro once said. “And marble countertops.”
Abominable. Koaru only rolled his eyes and chastised him about his shallowness.
The door opened. Kaoru walked in immediately and took off his shoes. He wasted no time in finding his spot on the floor by the window.
“Not gonna lie, I thought you were joking about coming over,” Kojiro admitted.
He handed him something, and Kaoru took the cup of tea into his palms. “Why would I be? I don’t lie, Kojiro.”
Kojiro sat down opposite him on the floor. Koaru missed the exasperated expression that meant That’s debatable.
There wasn’t really floorspace for a table, so it was more of a stool they set their cups on. In the corner, a singular lamp flickered slightly, leaving them a hesitant source of light.
“It’s 3:00 AM,” he explained in a few words. He must have been very tired, as he was not one to keep things short. At least not with Kaoru.
It’s not that he needed to offer an explanation, nor did Kojiro expect him to give one. They weren’t like that. They didn’t thrive on explanations; they either just guessed, bickered, or refused to pry unless it was the last given option.
“I couldn’t sleep.” An understatement. He hoped his eye bags and shivering hands didn’t give way to anything worse.
Kojiro gave him a meaningful look. He wouldn’t pry. Yet.
He leaned forward across the table. Too close. His shampoo smelled herbaceous and fruity, like mango. “Didn’t just miss me?”
There it was. That awful tightening sensation. Much too close. Sometimes he was much too flirtatious in a way that was meant to get a rise out of Kaoru. Since it didn’t mean anything, it only made Kaoru angry. He grabbed a nearby notebook and gave Kojiro a thwap on the top of his head.
“I miss my personal space,” he said, “Which I vaguely remember having before I met you.”
“You’ve known me all your life.”
Kaoru leaned forward on his hands, pushing their foreheads together to prove a point. Only to prove a point. “Exactly.”
Then, as if he wasn’t falling apart into ribbons, he grabbed his tea and drank half of it in one go. Too crude, maybe, unfortunately, he wasn’t paying much attention to that. He leaned back into his original position; poised and casual. He watched as Kojiro lowered his head and looked out the window with a solid frown.
That’s right. Know how it feels.
Scanning around, Kaoru remembered why he had originally come over. He found the room strangely barren of any sign of work; it held remnants of the previous day; a ramune bottle near the recycling bin, a few washed dishes, clothes were thrown on the floor. Despite this, he didn’t even see an open laptop. Just a stack of closed books and a fish-shaped night light that cast small, moving figures on the wall.
“What were you working on?” Kaoru asked, beginning to be suspicious.
Dust floated in the air along with them, along with his ghost. He could haunt this place, if he wanted. He wanted.
“Uh, culinary things, and mathematics. Nothing you would understand. Unfortunately, in this case, your intelligence is inferior,” he said again in an attempt to rile him up. There was a hunt for late-night amusement. A part of Kaoru (a large part) wanted to run with it and do what they usually did on nights like this, which consisted of drinking, walking around aimlessly, skateboarding under bridges, and such. But he also kind of wanted to lean into him, to be quiet and listen to his heartbeat.
Shut up , he told himself. Shut up.
Kaoru folded his arms. “I could understand culinary things if I wanted, but you couldn’t understand basic math if you tried.”
Quiet. Kojiro blinked. “Name one knife.”
“Umm… a sharp one,” he answered, then retracted. “Wait! A fillet–”
“Too late. All that robotics and you couldn’t even say butter knife. ” He looked a bit smug at that, and a bit too happy.
“You didn’t give me a chance to study!”
In the dim light, Kojiro smiled politely. “And you failed, four-eyes. Didn’t you say it’s better to get sleep than to study?”
“That’s not what I said!” Kaoru fumed. It was petty anger that made him feel normal again. He was lazily leaning on the floor. The hotness of the tea prickled his tired throat. “So dumb.”
Leaning his head back against the low-standing sofa, he closed his eyes. He could hear the hesitance in the rain outside, like it was waiting for a better night, a better hour. The lamp flickered, and Kaoru’s half-lidded eyes shifted to the untidy bed through the next door.
“Were you already asleep?” he asked.
There was still the hint of a smile before. It was frozen in a gentle, half-secret demeanor. Kojiro tilted his head and leaned more weight on his forearms, which rested on the floor.
“Mm,” he considered lightly, “Nah.”
This Kojiro was hazy like he had indeed been awakened not long ago. In the other room, a fan slowly rotated back and forth, softly knocking the curtains against the window, blowing the hot air around the apartment.
Neither of them would pry.
“Let’s go skating,” Kojiro prompted.
So late? He ought to say. What came out of his mouth was, “I’ll race you downstairs.”
Kaoru had a thought he didn’t like to invest in; that this Kojiro may be a new favorite. It wasn’t long ago that he was a somewhat timid, introverted boy who was a little too strange and sidelined to acknowledge that he was those things. Guilt seared Kaoru’s ribs when he thought about it. Not that he realized he was doing it, nor did he commit to it in its entirety. Had things worked out in a more expected way, where would Kojiro be?
He wouldn’t say it, not yet, that he was glad it was Kojiro here and not the alternative. They were both here, and that was better than a different Kojiro with higher standards. Perhaps if it happened now, while he was a Kojiro who was in the transitional phase of becoming something more, there would be less tolerance.
Maybe that’s what tore at their seems sometimes: the possibility that his affection is conditional and laced between sly bickering and coarse remarks. After all, that was the only thing that kept the two of them in a comfortable place.
These thoughts were drowned out by the exhilaration of going very very fast down a sleek, newly paved sidewalk. And hey, the view from behind wasn’t unpleasant.
Granted, Kojiro was only a shadow beneath a bridge. That said, Kaoru would much rather be the observer than the observed. His pink hair batted at his face as he bent his knees, skirting up and around to be level with Kojiro’s pace. He side-eyed Kaoru, something glinting and a little bit dangerous in his competitive gaze, before knocking to the side and down a dried up, man-made ravine.
He could be with anyone else, at an arcade, gambling, throwing coins into a pool, and Kaoru would still know the fire of competition was for him. No one else would expect it from either of them in the daytime that they carried this trait under the surface. Oh, but it was a different beast for them. They could kill each other this way, if they were on more than a city-approved inspected sidewalk.
A bend at the knees, he skidded down the smooth stone, and Kaoru wasted no hesitation in one-upping him by following through the air with a slight spin that looked illusional and aerial to the unknowing. He cracked down like quiet lightning.
“Show-off,” he heard in the darkness.
He didn’t bother to turn around as he smirked something prideful.
There were unbloomed sakura trees lining their unorthodox pathway, all the way down until even after they reached the underneath of a bridge a mile away. Kaoru was in a metaphorical tunnel vision; he could see the forest trail across the way. He made for it, almost, when his companion suddenly pulled back onto the concrete sidewalk, blowing past a silent train track. There was no other consideration but to follow.
He wondered where they were going, as Kojiro led them through a corroded back-alley and past a children's park, which looked strange and barren in the dark morning. Out of place is what the world was at night. Even the all-night ramen shops, bustling with steam and clattering dishes, gave anyone a sense of wonder. They were part of the night-time fascination.
Their boards skittered to a stop as they happened upon a mix of a dusty and grassy patch of land; abandoned fairgrounds. Well, not abandoned— closed for the wet season until the next event. It was lined with wooden window shops, gazebos, and shoddily constructed rides that would soon be launched. It was the best.
They came to a stop, and the wind in Kaoru’s ears came to a close. He heard a faint huff of laughter from where Kojiro stood. It was like sea foam in his chest, he thought he could drown in it.
“That was great!” he said. “Maybe I should be up at this hour more often. I guess I’d never sleep, then.”
He unzipped the sweater he slept in. Kaoru felt he ought to look away. He was delirious with said sleeplessness and wet, clinging air.
“Do it. Your face is more bearable when it’s dark,” he said as a joke, though his ribs ticked. He was tiptoeing too close to something like shame.
Nothing could stop his mood right now. “I think you’re just jealous these days,” Kojiro said.
I am .
“Who would have guessed you’d be growing so vain?”
“Not vain if it’s true.”
“Still vain, no matter how good you look.”
An impasse.
Kojiro crossed his arms and frowned in a passing judgment. “Hey, Kaoru, don’t pretend you don’t have vain thoughts even if you don’t voice them. No one dresses or acts the way you do if you don't think highly of how you look. I can see it.”
Don’t see me.
They were both secretly glad for the darkness, the coverage of pink ears and evasion from eye contact. Only the street lamps glistened from beyond.
“Whatever,” he settled with. “Some modesty is in order before you become too sleazy beyond redemption.”
Kaoru could see the eye roll even in the darkness, maybe he imagined it. “Oh, come on , Kaoru. You didn’t even need to undress in high school to get anyone to look at you. Some of us have to work a bit harder to look half as pretty.”
His heartbeat felt uneven, it felt like it was spinning spiderwebs in his ribcage.
It was a lie before he even said it, so he crossed his arms and looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Of course he knew what it meant; he was generally desirable and frequently confessed to even after it was clear that he was inexplicably unattainable. It wasn’t a secret, though he never accepted any of those confessions. Not even once. They both knew why.
“Jeez, you’re too smart for me to explain anything. I’m not even gonna bother.”
And Kaoru didn’t want him to. It would only embarrass him, the way he remembered himself in his youth. He was still in his youth. The only difference was that he was internally paying the consequences of a different youth. An endless, gut-tearing cycle that made him nauseous with humiliation.
No wonder he couldn’t sleep at night.
He rubbed at his eyes with both his palms. When he opened them, a wave of dizziness almost toppled him over. For a moment, it was like he left his body to see the stars. His head had been pounding before, unrelenting. Now it was breaking the door down.
A sturdy grip caught his arm.
“Are you okay?”
No.
No.
Uncontrollable irritation poisoned his stomach like hard acid. “I’m fine!” he snapped, ripping his arm away. The confusion passed like deflated soda. The dizziness lingered like a phantom. “Fuck, I’m fine.”
Kojiro released a heavy sigh.
“I’ve known you all your life—” he started.
“Congratulations, you’ve had the pleasure of basking in my presence,” Kaoru snapped.
“... but it doesn't take a prodigy to see past your oh-so-subtle not-okayness. You look terrible.”
This was a Kojiro he didn’t like as much. Well, not necessarily disliked. One that made him uncomfortable. The one who could see him in 4K HD, eye bags and rotten body and all. No sly comments, no bantering, just a stare that was worse than invasiveness.
It was too early in the morning for this.
He sat down on his skateboard and massaged his temples. “Piss off,” he said before Kojiro even had a chance to do or say anything.
Instead of telling him off or attempting to comfort him, Kojiro only tsk ed and sat down beside him.
“Need any painkillers?”
“I need some fucking sleep.”
Kojiro stretched his arms and legs with fervor, then leaned back to the ground, crossing his arms behind his head. He set his phone down on the grass next to him.
“Good as place as any, I guess.”
The phone lit up like a small, rectangle portal in the darkness with an advertisement notification. It remained silent and the screen soon darkened. Kojiro did not bother to attend to it. He shut his eyes. He made it look so easy. Kaoru tore at strands of grass.
“It’s too cold here,” he complained, even though the air was actually hot and sticky, and part of the reason he hadn’t been able to sleep before.
Kojiro popped open a single, squinted eye. “Then lay in my arms.”
“I will not.”
Neither of them said anything for some time. The silence was only broken once Koaru found something else to complain about.
“I have no pillow.”
“There’s me,” he offered once again. Kaoru couldn’t take it seriously. He furrowed his eyebrows.
“You’re made of brick.”
“And you’re made of barbed wire,” he retorted with his eyes closed. He looked self-assured like that, lazed and succumbing to a half-sleep. Kaoru was glad his eyes were closed; now he could look at him, up and down, without question. Only guilt. He did it in spite of this, because when else would he be able to? Kojiro was covered in loose grass and faint perspiration from the ride and heat, and between the streetlight and starlight, it was as hard to look away from him as it was to break a gaze from the moon.
A horrible, wonderful desire hit him.
“You were pretty, too,” he said quietly. It was an impulse, a thing he thought he only thought, then realized he actually said in reality. He thought Kojiro hadn’t heard him. Then, after a few seconds, he smiled warmly.
“How hard did you hit your head? You’re right, but you’re the last person who I’d expect to say it. Really, how little sleep have you had?”
Kaoru’s cheeks were blooming roses, he was sure. He covered his face with his cold hands to cool it off. Oh, god, he couldn't believe he had said it.
“Not a lot,” he murmured.
“Really, though?”
“Mm. I haven’t slept more than a few hour-long intervals in the last couple of weeks,” he said, sniffling due to the stuffy air and the lack of sleep messing with his sinuses. “Tonight I haven’t slept at all. It's not that I can't sleep at all, it's just that I keep waking up. I can't seem to slow down."
The admission was a little embarrassing. Whose business was it how he was feeling?
Kojiro raised his eyebrows without totally opening his eyes. “Maybe you should get that checked out.”
“Mm,” he started, “Insomnia. Anxiety induced. I had it for different reasons when I was a kid. It… resurfaces every once in a while.”
Neither of them said anything. A quiet few seconds passed. He looked over and saw Kojiro’s open eyes peering at him with a curious expression.
“Quit looking at me like that,” he ordered. “Shut up.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
Sure you didn’t. But he had it in his head, all the little thoughts about his worrisome friend who couldn’t sleep at night. He could read it on Kojiro's face, and if Kaoru didn’t verbalize it first, make that initiation that means he’d open himself up, then Kojiro definitely wasn’t going to. One of them was more volatile than the other, and it wasn’t the one who knew every kitchen knife by heart. These things must be said on his terms.
They were peering at each other's eyes as if the gaze was a looking glass. For once, Kaoru let him. It brought him to the ground, and he laid his head down on the scratchy grass next to him. He closed his eyes.
“I’m not talking about it tonight,” he stated.
Kojiro looked pensive. “I'm not asking you to.”
They lay like that, side by side, ribs by ribs, not quite touching, not quite not touching. They were like stained glass with a few missing placements; a portrait with sunlight poking through. There were things they were thinking, neither of them sure what to do with their hands or eyes. It was like a dream that couldn’t break.
Then, they talked forever. And ever, and ever. About skateboarding, about mutual friends, about the cost of living. Only a little bit about Koaru’s insomnia, which he couldn’t talk a lot about. Talking about spiraling anxiety, surprisingly, did not make him less anxious. He asked for distractions instead. Long, silly distractions.
“Like what?”
“Just ask normal questions. Talk about normal things. You’ve got plenty of normal about you.”
“That seems backhanded,” he replied.
“Take it or leave it.”
So Kojiro thought. Not for long, only long enough to seem mischievous.
“Hm,” he started. “What sort of date would you want to be taken on? Should you ever accept one of those?”
Kaoru wanted to jump out of his body, but he wasn’t going to back down. It was a perfectly normal thing to ask. Yet… he said “taken on” in a way that implied Kaoru would not be the one taking someone on a date. He would squirm at the notion if he were someone else.
“I would. Maybe I have. You don’t know everything about me—”
“Sure…”
“—And easy. Art galleries and museums are predictable and enjoyable even if the other party finds them boring. Also, they’re indoors in case of rain. They’re perfect.”
Kojiro rolled his eyes. “How are they enjoyable even if someone finds them boring?”
Of course he’d make his own argument.
Looking away, Kaoru found himself having undignified thoughts, like kissing someone in an empty exhibit or being taken out for dinner afterwards.
“It’s quality time in a cultural setting. What do you do at movies? Not talk to each other?”
“You can talk about the movie afterwards during dinner. You can assess someone easily based on movie opinions,” he argued. Maybe he had a point. Whether or not it was good, Kaoru was still not settled.
“I still don’t like them,” he said. “What if you hate the movie? Then you seem negative.”
Kojiro looked at him incredulously. “Come on,” he said. “You just have to learn how to be a good complainer. Then you seem entertaining rather than unpleasant. What if the other person doesn’t like the art?”
He took very little time to think. “Then you make out in the observatory.”
This caught Kojiro off guard. In a moment, he pulled himself together and gave a half-smirk. “I guess I see the appeal.”
It was fun to see the unexpected answer pull a slight, nearly hidden exhale from him. Kaoru was quick to turn the conversation around on him.
“Don’t think this is over. What about you?”
“Ahh,” Kojiro shifted, looking pleased. “Festivals, boat rides. That sort of thing is fun. Also, no one finds it boring.”
Dammit, he had a solid point this time. Kaoru also found those things enjoyable. He wanted his ideas to be better all the time.
“What if the weather is bad?”
Kojiro closed his eyes, yawning. “Find a weather god to pray to, I guess.”
Unfair that he could sleep his way out of a conversation. Kaoru was inexplicably jealous about this, and perhaps a little lonely. It was like someone wasn’t the same as you if they were asleep and you were chronically awake.
Perhaps Kojiro had fallen asleep long ago. Perhaps he was lazing. Not far away, Kaoru could hear laughter and indiscreet whispers muffled by distance alone. In a matter of moments, the sound came closer through the abandoned park. It made sense that people would come out here to drink or smoke or screw each other, yet he felt like he was invading something. Then he had the distinct, maybe false feeling, that he was the one being invaded upon. The thought settled in his stomach like warm coals.
He should wake him. He should. If he didn’t, soon dawn would come and the sun would split them in two. Instead, he let his gaze fall on Kojiro. If they were different, different in many ways, he’d say he was handsome in a conventional way. Something he couldn’t say was that Kojiro was also handsome in the way only Kaoru knew because he’d seen nearly every part of him at some point, inside and out. He also couldn’t tell if he was handsome or not sometimes; he was familiar like a tree or a piece of furniture is familiar. However, he did come to the conclusion that sleep was a rare beauty, and it suited him well.
Kaoru’s forearms felt itchy against the dampness of the ground, so he rested them on his stomach and listened to the sound of crackling bottles and lovers laughing.
That should be us. He clenched his fists around his shirt.
A large hand came to untangle them. Fingers intertwined.
“Kaoru,” he said.
The warmth from his hand seeped in. The cold, to many’s disbelief, is the absence of heat, and currently Kaoru could not stop thinking about what he lacked and what was given. Kojiro leaned in, leaving the moment for Kaoru to decide. They could hear each other's breath.
Kaoru slipped his hand away.
He didn’t need light to see that Kojiro tensed. A sudden regret about him.
Guilt tickled Kaoru’s chest and neck, and he felt that quick nervousness start to pick at him. “Sorry,” he said. Kojiro gave him a moment to collect his thoughts.
How many times has this happened now? Why were so many things unspoken between them?
“Sorry,” he said again.
They were very close, equally exhilarated and equally disappointed. Kojiro looked away. “I didn–”
“You did. It’s fine.”
Maybe that wasn’t what he was going to say. If so, Kojiro didn’t correct him. They were both dangerously close to something unknowable being known.
Kaoru didn’t know what to do with his hands. He didn’t want them to be empty. He sat up promptly.
“Mm, Kaoru,” Kojiro started. His name was a silver bell on his tongue. “I’m going to ask a question.”
“Whether I like it or not.”
“Always,” he said. He sat up to match Kaoru’s position. “I want to ask— I feel like I know you well enough to know this, but I don’t— what do you think of me?”
It’s not what he expected from the night. He let pink strands of hair cover his flushed face. “In an adjective?”
“Really? Preferably not.”
He sucked in a breath. The moment was crucial. Life or death.
“I…” he looked Kojiro directly in the eyes. There were a lot of things he could say to himself. Just not in the real world. “Don’t trick me into sentimentality. What’s with this?”
“Trying to logic things out, I guess.”
“That’s my job,” said Kaoru.
“Yeah, and your logic is a fucking labyrinth in this area.” This area . That made Kaoru pause, which Kojiro took as a stubborn silence. “Damn, Kaoru. You know, sometimes it’s like pulling teeth with you. But you’re not hard to figure out at all.”
“Because you know me so well,” he spat.
Kojiro’s expression had him in a chokehold. “I do.”
Kaoru focused on a dying, neon sign down the street. It flickered red and disappeared. Then it was back for more suffering. His voice was barely speaking volume. Even so, it held the bitterness of battery acid. “What do you know?”
His voice was heating, maybe amused, maybe fed up. “That you’re still stuck in the past and always looking for an escape from a situation that doesn’t exist anymore.”
“And you’re not?”
“I am. But that doesn’t mean I want to keep existing there,” he said, taking Kaoru out with a single blow. “Am I wrong? I’d like to be wrong for once.”
“Shut up,” he said weakly. It held no real weight. He was an amateur in arguments about his more shameful feelings. He couldn’t dispute them, but he couldn’t face them.
With a final, aggravated sigh Kojiro stood up and rolled his skateboard around with one foot before stepping onto it, raring to go. He didn’t look particularly frustrated anymore, yet Kaoru watched as he lit a single cigarette, something he had never seen him do before. His heart sunk; maybe this was worse.
It wasn’t attractive, he argued with himself. But something… clicked. Maybe it was that his heart beat with the things he didn’t know yet about his friend. Or maybe he was just very pretty beneath a street light with an unzipped jacket and dew on his neck.
“Pulling teeth,” he repeated quietly. “I’m going home.”
Kaoru cringed at the shortness of it. It took Kojiro a moment's hesitation to say, “Are you coming?”
Stillness. Kaoru stared at him, wondering if it would be more unfair to say yes or no. He wasn’t the type of person he would want to take home. Sometimes his heart was elsewhere, shards of a porcelain bowl in different soil. Or like a bashed up car engine.
When he didn’t answer, Kojiro flicked the cigarette and rode off wordlessly.
We’ll still be friends , Kaoru reminded himself. It’s impossible not to be.
He knew. They’d done this before: skirted around each other till something like a wound was opened and shut him down.
Kaoru lay down, his hair against the night-cold ground, and closed his eyes. He tried for fifteen minutes. The whole time, the sound of the couple was still there, and it filled his heart with such jealousy that they had that lightness to them. How could they do that? Just be near each other without falling apart?
It’s not just that. They were talking like friends. They were not just laughing and romancing— they were hanging out. Having fun and sneaking onto the carnival rides that weren't even plugged in. Letting their hearts guide them.
That should be him. It could have been him if he wasn’t a coward.
He heard them become quiet, he heard them kiss.
Sighing, he pulled out his phone to send Kojiro a text. He thought for what felt like a long time about what to say.
I’ll be different in the morning. We can talk then.
Hovering his finger, it took him a full minute to send it. It wasn’t anything earth-shattering. It was just maybe a promise he couldn’t keep.
No, he’d keep it.
Not a second later, he heard a loud jingle on full volume. He reached out his hand in the grass and grabbed for the stray phone Kojiro had left behind.
So that’s why he was conveniently awake. Emergency notifications.
Kaoru’s heart swelled. He stood up, euphoric, and followed the exit-path Kojiro took on his skateboard to find the main river they rode on all the way back to the original destination. For once, he wanted to be decisive.
Dawn was showing its dark blue face from over a hill. Trees blew a breeze that only existed in the early morning. Everything was okay, for a moment.
As he pulled up, he saw a shadow perched, leaning enigmatically against the stone wall. The propped up skateboard and small flicker of a lighter told Kaoru that Kojiro’s second cigarette had been lit.
Slowly, the weight of the night lifting, he rolled up slowly on his board, inches away from Kojiro’s steady face. Like this, they were the same height.
His eyes looked heavy with lack of sleep, though they were no less alluring. Sighing, Kaoru took the cigarette out of his mouth and between his own fingers, putting it out on the wall by his head. Ashes sprinkled on his shoulder.
“No one will kiss you if you smell like that. Disgusting.”
“As if you’re a puritan. High school didn’t leave your body a temple if I remember right.”
“Hence why I know better.”
He felt around his coat pockets and pulled out the remaining box, slipping it into his own sweater pouch. Kojiro protested lightly, bitching a bit about the price these days, inflation and all. Ultimately, he didn’t take them back. Secretly, he cared about Kaoru’s opinion.
Instead, Kojiro leaned forward slightly, wanting. He was too frightened of the outcome to do much more. His hands stayed put, twitching out of sight. Kaoru thought his mouth was too pretty, enough to touch. He was lying if he wasn’t objectifying him in a similar way to girls on the street. It burned in him, guilt and excitement; what if he didn’t want Kaoru to think of him like that?
Slipping his hand into his own pocket, Kaoru pulled out the phone and handed it to Kojiro.
“Forgot this,” he said, then committed to the split-second impulse and closed the very short distance to kiss him. It was more of a thought, really. Then it was real, physical, and they were kissing. The poor-sleep and unwise all nighter made everything feel like a strange dream. They both had oncoming headaches and were growing hungry.
Despite the heat in Kaoru, he shivered in the ripe morning air.
Kiss.
So cold, so cold. But so warm, as Kojiro was ever a furnace. Not just at the moment in their current position, it was always. He was always so warm to the touch. Kaoru’s hands were freezing at all times.
Touch.
Kojiro pressed his own back into the coldness of the stone, willingly leaving less space for himself to move. He seemed not to know what to do with his hands, so Kaoru gently laced his fingers through and pulled them to his own waist. It was such a good feeling, so natural the way Kojiro progressed by pawing at the hem of Kaoru’s shirt. He tugged on it, pressing underneath the cloth and thumbing the skin of his waist, hesitant like Kaoru might get scared and run away. Instead, he parted his lips. Only briefly, as he abruptly put two fingers between their mouths.
“Brush your teeth,” he said.
Rose-face, Kojiro leaned back and touched his mouth with his fingers and swallowed. “Figure your life out,” he compromised.
“I promise.”
They stood there for a moment, both wondering if this was a moment that could break and never again happen. Kojiro was waiting for something.
Kaoru stepped off his skateboard and flipped it up, carrying it under his arm. He extended his wrist and pulled gingerly on Kojiro’s hand, attempting to lead him away from the wall. “Can we go to sleep?” he asked.
“My bed isn’t made,” he said, knowing neither of them cared.
“You can make it.”
“Mm. If you say so.”
They made their way up the staircase and into Kojiro’s room. He brushed his teeth as requested, obedient enough, though neither of them bothered to make the bed before crawling beneath the sheets, letting the fan sing them to sleep until the hazy afternoon.
“You're beautiful,” Kojiro had said to him. Kaoru thought he dreamt at one point. It was broken by the fan and he was asleep, so it must have been a dream.
That morning, bright light had shown briefly through the shades, bouncing off the rafters and glowing above them with springtime sun. Soon, the sky opened up to a dark, misty rain. It let itself be known through the open window, just like the evening had promised. It was a timeless, undisturbed nap.
Through it all, Kojiro had his arms around Kaoru’s stomach, who woke up in sleepy doses. It was only to take in the heat of the air and touch of skin. On skin, on skin.
This was so, so fine.