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Nobuchika walks Dime twice per day. Dime is the kind of dog who doesn't need to be on a leash, which seems like a miracle to Kougami. Either Dime is extremely well-behaved, or Nobuchika trusts him more than the average dog-owner. Or both.
Once Kougami had asked, “Doesn't he run away?”
“No,” Nobuchika had said. “He stays close to me.”
“Huh.”
Kougami has gotten used to not worrying about whether Dime will suddenly bolt into the street or chase after some errant bird or ruin someone's picnic. Dime is playful, but he also knows when to behave.
They usually make a lap around the green of the nearby university and then head back to the cafe, where Nobuchika has been letting Dime spend a lot more time interacting with the customers. He hasn't gotten any complaints yet, which was something he feared when Kougami first suggested it, so Dime is around a lot more.
As they start heading back, Kougami can feels a tightness in his chest that has nothing to do with how the summer humidity makes it hard to breathe.
“It's only three months,” he blurts out.
Nobuchika stares at him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.
“I mean,” Kougami adds, “I should be able to transfer closer after three months.”
“You don't have to,” Nobuchika says. There's a slight edge to his voice.
“I want to,” Kougami says. “I really do.”
Nobuchika nods. He doesn't say anything, because he never has much to say on the subject of Kougami's new job, the one that's taking him a few hours away. Kougami had expected him to be shocked, even though they'd both known that Kougami would graduate and have to do something other than hang out at a coffee shop writing papers for the rest of his life. But Nobuchika seemed to have expected it, and Kougami isn't sure whether that's a good thing or not.
He suspects that Nobuchika is hiding something from him. But he's been too busy packing and preparing to investigate it fully.
But he has a plan.
When they return to the cafe Nobuchika returns to work, and Kougami sends a text to Akane to meet him that night.
He has a plan, and everything will be fine.
*
“I need you to become a regular at Division One.”
Akane stares at him. “I have a job too, you know.”
“I know, but it's in town, and you can probably swing by--”
“You just want me to watch Ginoza, don't you?”
“Someone needs to make sure he isn't overworking himself.”
Akane sighs. “Fine.”
*
Nobuchika takes Dime to the train station. Kougami spots him first, and it gives him a moment just to watch. With Dime at his side, Nobuchika looks a bit lost as people rapidly move past him.
And then he catches sight of Kougami and his expression lights up, a small smile, but genuine. Kougami moves towards him, dragging two suitcases behind him.
“Well,” he says, a little breathlessly, “it's time.”
“Good luck,” Nobuchika says.
“Thanks.” Kougami grins. “I'll be fine. They'll love me so much they won't be able to deny my request to transfer back.”
“I should hope so.” Nobuchika places his hand on Kougami's cheek, a feather-light touch, which he follows with an equally feather-light kiss. “I'll miss you.”
“I'll miss you, too,” Kougami says. “But I'm coming back. Don't worry.”
Nobuchika laughs, softly. Kougami steals a kiss from him, taking him by surprise, and pulls away before Nobuchika can fully process it.
“Not goodbye,” Kougami tells him, and then he turns and heads for the platform.
*
Nobuchika leaves the train station with nine words stuck in his throat.
“I wouldn't blame you if you didn't come back.”
Nobuchika's mind has always been hard to control at the best of times, and now he can't really stop himself from thinking that Kougami isn't coming back. That he'll find something better and stay hours away, that he'll find someone better. And Nobuchika really wouldn't blame him.
His mind has trained him to accept these sorts of things.
After all, what does Kougami Shinya, a soon-to-be brilliant lawyer, need with a barista?
The stuffy, smokey air of the train station makes Nobuchika feel like he's being choked, and it has nothing to do with the sound of a train pulling out of the station and imagining Kougami on it, not at all. He's relieved when he ends up back at the shop, surrounded by the comforting smell of roasted coffee beans and the whir of machines. He even appreciates Kagari's endless chatter.
This is why he owns a coffee shop. This is why he comes in nearly every day. Because this is the place that gives him comfort, that makes him calm. He can get through this. He will get through this.
Even if he has to do it alone.
*
“I'd like a, hmmm, a black coffee with, uh, some milk--”
“You always order a black coffee with some milk, Akane-chan. Why don't you get something that actually tastes good for once?”
“Actually tastes good?”
“It's filter coffee. Not as good as the drinks we make to order. Of course, I can always make you my special drink--”
This catches Nobuchika's attention and he turns to Kagari and says, “No. You're not making anyone a special drink.”
“Hi, Ginoza,” Akane says with a smile. “How are you?”
“Good,” Nobuchika says, frowning. Akane is Kougami's friend. Akane usually only comes into the shop every once in a while, and only with Kougami. But Kougami isn't here.
He notices that she's wearing a sharp work suit and carrying a briefcase. They don't get many business men and women in the shop.
“How are you?” he manages after an uncomfortably long pause.
“Great,” Akane says.
“You look nice,” Kagari points out.
“I just started my new job,” Akane tells him. “It's tiring but in a good way. At least I get to use everything I learned.”
“You know what you could also use?” Kagari asks. “One of my special--”
“No,” Nobuchika cuts him off.
Akane turns to him, looking amused. “I'll take anything you recommend.”
“I—okay.” Akane is the first person since Kougami to want something that he recommends. He makes her a simple cappuccino, because he has the feeling that she isn't much for sweet drinks. Kagari rings her up and he hands her the cappuccino.
“Thank you,” she says, and then she goes to sit at Kougami's favorite table by the window.
Nobuchika deliberately does not look towards that table until Akane leaves half an hour later.
He does not even think about that table.
He's relieved when the day is over, and he can go home and try to forget about Kougami and Akane and that table. He feels silly. It's just a table. Kougami has barely been gone a week. He doesn't need Kougami in the coffee shop.
Then Akane shows up the next day, and takes the same table.
*
It becomes a routine, and it doesn't escape Nobuchika how familiar a routine it is.
Every day, half an hour after opening, Akane comes into the cafe and asks for “whatever you think I'll like, Ginoza.” She always asks him how he is, which from anyone else would seem just a normal exchange of pleasantries but from her is not. And then she sits by the window, looking over a newspaper or what Nobuchika assumes to be files from her workplace, and then she leaves.
At first, it makes him angry, because Akane reminds him that Kougami is not here. But then, as he runs through different drinks, which are different from the ones he made Kougami because Akane has different tastes, the anger begins to fade. Because with Akane asking him to make her drinks she might like, and with Akane sitting at the window table, the spaces that Kougami filled are not empty like Nobuchika thought they would be.
Those spaces that were once filled by Kougami don't need to be filled only by Kougami.
One day, Akane comes in during lunch and asks Nobuchika if he wants to join her. To his surprise, Nobuchika says yes.
As they sit down with their sandwiches and lattes Akane tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and says, “You know, I always used to think of coffee as just a thing to wake me up. Even when I came here, I'd always just order it because I wanted more energy. Anything to get me through all that studying. And now, to get me through work. I didn't know it would taste good.”
Nobuchika frowns. “But Kougami--”
“Oh, I thought he was coming here because of you,” Akane says. “I mean, he was, but I didn't realize that you were so good at making coffee until recently.” She laughs. “I know it sounds silly, because you own a coffee shop. Thanks for taking the time to introduce me to coffee, by the way.”
“Of course,” Nobuchika says.
“It's a really nice place,” Akane continues. “It's nice to have somewhere that isn't hectic. And no one from my job comes here, so it's a good break every day.”
“I didn't think lawyers had time for cafe visits,” Nobuchika says.
“There's time for anything if you make time,” Akane says.
“Do you like your job?”
“I love it.” Akane smiles at him, perfectly genuine. “I love being able to have an effect on the justice system, to see that the right people get what they deserve, that people get what they need. It's hard. There are so many cases that aren't cut and dry. But what everyone needs is for someone to be able to give them time and attention. Our system is flawed, but the more good people there are who try to improve the system, the more the system will improve.”
“You really believe that,” Nobuchika says. He's heard Kougami say similar things countless times, and the optimism still surprises him.
“I really do.”
Nobuchika glances down at his sandwich, only half-eaten. “My father was a detective. He also believed that the system was flawed, but he didn't have the same hope you and Kougami seem to have. He felt that the corruption and the flaws in our system were overwhelming.”
“It seems that way, sometimes,” Akane admits. “I've seen a lot...I mean, people tease me for being new and hopeful. They keep saying that I'll become cynical, hardened, that I'll figure it out soon enough. But I hope not.” Her expression becomes one of determination. “I don't want to lose hope. That would be letting down the people I'm trying to help. If I don't have hope, how can they?”
“I wish I had your hope,” Nobuchika says without quite meaning to.
“You do,” Akane tells him, and he looks up at her, surprised. “Kougami told me why you opened a coffee shop. Most people would say that no one really cares about something like coffee, that it's just a get it and go type of thing, but you want people to feel comfortable and relaxed. In your own way, you believe that you can help someone have a better day just by being here. And you do. This place is wonderful.”
Nobuchika can feel his cheeks growing hot. The cafe is also a place for him to hide. He wishes he had Akane's bravery, to stand in front of other people and protect what she believes in. He tells her so.
“We're all brave in different ways,” Akane tells him. “I know Kougami thinks you are.” She checks her watch, then stands up, startled. “I have to get back to work. Take care, Ginoza.” And then she's gone.
Nobuchika heads behind the counter in a daze.
He's never felt brave in his life.
*
One day while walking Dime, Nobuchika passes a corner store and considers buying cigarettes. And then he dismisses the idea and keeps walking.
But there's a second where he really wants them. Not to smoke, but because he's used to the scent of smoke on Kougami. It's become background noise in his life, at first annoying until he got used to it, and now that it's gone it adds to the long list of things that are different because Kougami isn't here.
Nobuchika reasons to himself that he won't buy cigarettes just to not smoke them, and that he doesn't like the whole culture around smoking anyway, or the way that cigarettes can affect health, and that it's really better that he isn't constantly surrounded by smoke because that can't be good for him at all.
But occasionally, like when he walks past the corner store, it becomes like a craving. To light the cigarette, to play with it when he has nothing to do with his hands, and if he closes his eyes he can pretend that he's just snatched it away from Kougami and Kougami is about to take it back.
He doesn't buy them. Because no matter how many he would light, Kougami wouldn't be there to take them away, and he'd be left with the debris of burnt out cigarettes and ash.
*
There's a routine that Nobuchika develops in Kougami's absence, and it works out pretty well. The spaces left by Kougami's departure are filled, not in the same way, but in a way that is enough to keep him from feeling empty. He and Kougami talk when they can, on the phone, via e-mail, but it isn't the same as having Kougami there. One and a half more months, and he should come home.
And then, because life isn't that easy, there comes a week where everything falls apart.
Nobuchika has prepared for this week, because on the Wednesday is the anniversary of his father's death, and on the Friday is that of his mother.
The Wednesday is the worst day of the year, just because it had come as a shock. He'd been told over and over that he worried for nothing. He had this idea that if he went to sleep, something terrible would happen to the people he loved, and over and over again he was told that this idea was just a product of an over-active imagination. That everything would be fine, always.
Except for that one night, when fall turned to summer, and Nobuchika woke up to the sound of his mother sobbing and men's voices at the front door, and he found out at nine past one in the morning that his father had been shot while on duty.
A year later, his mother died from illness. He'd fallen asleep by her hospital bed, and woke up to doctors and nurses frantically trying to bring her back.
On his worst days, Nobuchika doesn't like to sleep.
So each year during that week, which has the potential to be full of bad days, he works harder. He arrives at the cafe earlier, leaves later than is necessary, and tries to exhaust himself during the day because he knows that if he doesn't, he won't be able to sleep.
He can't sleep anyway. Only a few hours, not nearly enough, and they're restless hours.
The next week will be better, he thinks, but throughout the years he's never felt the need to have someone there for him simply because they've become a fixture in his life. He's never been close enough to anyone to feel it. He feels alone. For the first time in a long time, he's aware of being alone.
To make things worse, this year he finds himself worrying about Kougami.
It's ridiculous and he knows it, and nothing bad will happen to Kougami, not like what happened to his parents. But he can't help but thinking it, and he keeps looking at his phone and his e-mail as if expecting some terrible news.
On Thursday, Kougami calls after dinner. Nobuchika is still working, but he practically runs into the back room, breathless, to pick up the phone. “Kou.”
“You're not going to like this,” Kougami says.
Nobuchika's stomach drops. He feels dizzy and he leans against the wall. “What happened?”
“Nothing terrible,” Kougami says, as if he can hear the fear in Nobuchika's voice. Maybe he can. “I just had a talk with my boss today. And he said I can't transfer after three months like we originally planned. They need more people here. And I'm new, so I don't get priority with these kinds of requests. And it's going to get really busy, so I won't be able to visit. But before Christmas. He said most likely before Christmas I'll be able to transfer.” He takes a moment to let that sink in. “Gino?”
“That's...fine,” Nobuchika says. His mind is repeating itself, telling him that he's lasted this long and it's been fine, that it'll still be fine, that Kougami will come back even if all of his fears are telling him that he won't, that he should ignore those fears, that...
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“How are you?”
“I'm fine,” Nobuchika says. He's not fine. If only Kougami had not told him this during this week. But he doesn't know. Because Nobuchika never told him. Because he hadn't had a reason. “The shop is busy. I have to get back to work.”
“Me too,” Kougami says, but there's an edge of worry in his voice. “We can talk later.”
“Of course.” And then he hangs up.
He's trying not to shake when he goes back out front. It's only Thursday. He can't lose it. It's only Thursday.
And then it's Friday. And Kougami calls, and he doesn't pick up, because he's not brave like Kougami thinks he is, and then it's Saturday, and he hasn't slept at all in the past two nights, even when Dime climbs into bed because Dime knows it helps him fall asleep, and he feels a bit ill, and that afternoon Akane appears in the cafe and he wants to hide from her. Especially when her bright smile turns to concern.
Especially when she says, “Ginoza, can we talk?”
Especially when she leads him into the break room and closes the door behind her and says, “You look terrible.”
“What?”
“What's wrong?” Akane asks. “Something's wrong. You look like you haven't slept.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're shaking.”
Nobuchika realizes he is shaking. And that he feels cold. Too cold.
“If you're sick,” Akane says, “you should go home.”
“I can't go home,” Nobuchika snaps. There's no distractions there.
“Why not?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I'm your friend,” Akane says. She looks angry, now. “I don't want to see you running yourself into the ground because you don't want to admit something's wrong. I know I'm not Kougami but I do care about you, and I'm here right now.”
Nobuchika stares at her. He feels dizzy. He hasn't realized that they're friends, not because he doesn't consider Akane to be a friend, but because he wasn't sure if she considered him one. They've spent many lunches together and she's not Kougami but she's been filling some of the space he's left behind, and she's genuine and he needs someone, even if that someone isn't Kougami.
“I'm sorry,” he says.
“What's wrong?” Akane asks.
“I need someone,” Nobuchika says. He has to force those words out, because he's afraid that she'll reject him and his need. Because needing people leads to hurt.
Akane motions for him to sit, and he sinks into a chair. She sits close to him, and asks again, “What's wrong?”
Nobuchika tells her everything. About his father, and his mother, and his irrational fears, and about Kougami not coming back when he said he would, because even though it shouldn't be a big deal, this week it is a big deal because this week makes everything harder. And about how he's been trying not to miss Kougami but this week he misses him too much and he's afraid that Kougami will never come back, and he wouldn't blame him but it would still hurt.
And Akane listens and doesn't tell him that he's being foolish. She just lets him talk until his throat is dry and he's shaking a bit too hard. And then she wraps her arms around him and lets his head rest on her shoulder, lets him drink in her warmth, lets it seep into his cold bones.
“I'm taking you home,” she says when he pulls away. He opens his mouth to object, but she says, “You have people in the shop who can take care of things. You need to take today off. And tomorrow. Come on.” She takes his hand and pulls him up. “Where do you live?”
“Upstairs.”
In a daze, he follows her upstairs to his apartment. He unlocks the door, and heads straight for the kitchen. “I'll make you coffee,” he says. “What do you want?”
“You shouldn't--”
“Please.” He's desperate for something to do with his hands, something familiar to calm him down, and Akane recognizes that.
She says, “Whatever you're having.”
He makes lattes, simple but comforting. He puts extra caramel syrup in his, because if there's a time he needs his favorite drink, it's now. He's not shaking when he sits down on the sofa with Akane, and they both sip their drinks in silence. Dime makes his way sleepily from the bedroom to curl up at Nobuchika's feet.
“I've never met anyone before who calmed down from drinking coffee,” Akane muses.
“There's less espresso in this than usual,” Nobuchika says. There's just enough for the faint taste of coffee to still be there, but not enough to make him overly wound up. He'd put most of the espresso in Akane's latte.
“You should talk to Kougami,” Akane says. “It's important for him to know.” She thinks for a moment. “What does he know?”
“He knows that they're dead,” Nobuchika says. “He knows about the anxiety, and the bad days. He doesn't know about this week.”
“Okay,” Akane says. “Is it helpful to have someone around on days like this?”
Nobuchika laughs, a little breathlessly. “As you can see, it probably is. But it's a hard thing to ask of anyone.”
“You can call me, you know,” Akane says. “I can come as soon as possible when you need me.”
Nobuchika swallows back what he wants to say, which is that she shouldn't, that he doesn't want to be any trouble, because he does need this, he really does. “Thank you.”
Akane smiles at him.
*
Later that night Nobuchika settles into bed with Dime curled in his lap, calls Kougami, and tells him everything.
“Do you need me to come?” Kougami asks. “I can catch a train. Hmm, I can finish my work on the train. I can--”
“It's fine,” Nobuchika says, and this time he means it.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
For a moment Kougami is silent. Then he says, “I should've known something was wrong.”
“I didn't tell you.”
“I can be oblivious at times. I was so focused on work--”
“Kougami.”
Kougami sighs. “I'm sorry. I just feel...do you...”
“Tell me,” Nobuchika interrupts him, “about your week at work. We never talk about that.”
There's a pause, and then Kougami asks, “Do you really want to hear about that?”
“Yes.”
Kougami launches into the details of his work life, the various people in his office, the cases they take. The sleepless nights. The hard cases where the person who should win doesn't win. How Kougami is learning to not dwell on the losses and instead to channel his anger into future cases so that they aren't lost. Nobuchika drinks it all in, filling in the unknowns with facts, painting a picture of Kougami's life away from him.
The details make the distance feel smaller.
“Sorry. It's probably really boring,” Kougami finishes after a rant about one of the prosecuting lawyers for a rival firm.
“No,” Nobuchika insists. “I want to know.”
“On one condition,” Kougami says. “You keep me updated about your job, too. You know, there's no good coffee shops around here.”
“You're just trying to flatter me.”
“I'm serious! I'm developing trust issues. Gino, I am going to have so much coffee when I get back.”
Nobuchika grins. It's the first time he's smiled because of joy all week, and he lays down on his pillows, facing Dime. Dime is already asleep, as if he knows Nobuchika doesn't need anything from him right now.
“You owe me a lot of hours in the cafe,” he says. “Your table's been taken by someone else.”
It may be more months than he'd anticipated before Kougami is sitting in the cafe again, or lying next to him in bed. But this week is over, now, and the next week is beginning, and if this horrible week can end then so can the others, and soon there will be enough weeks to bring Kougami home.
Kougami laughs. “I don't care which table I'm sitting at, as long as you're there.”