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By the time Kurosawa is back at his apartment, he is hyperventilating. His hands shake as he unlocks the door and staggers through.
“Eh, what the--? Eh Yuichi???” Yua calls out to him from the living room. A man’s voice joins hers-- a baritone question. Kurosawa doesn’t listen, doesn’t care. He couldn’t respond right now even if he wanted to.
He drops his things on the genkan floor, trips over his shoes and stumbles into his room. As soon as his face touches his pillow he is gasping. It can’t even be called proper crying-- it’s just open mouthed sobs.
There is a murmur of voices, a firm soprano dismissal from Yua and the front door closes.
“Yuichi?”
Yua pushes the door to his room open. “What the hell little brother, what’s up??”
She sits next to him on the bed and shakes his shoulders with both hands.
“Ne, ne-- Yu-i-chi. What happened? What’s wrong with you?? Answer your big sister!” She bounces on the bed, jostling him.
He can’t do this right now, he can’t. This isn’t-- it’s not. He can’t breathe, he can’t deal with her immature bullshit--
He presses his face deeper into the pillow. He doesn’t want to show his swollen eyes and snotty nose, he can’t bear to be teased for this. He’s too raw, too miserable. He tries to control his breathing, to not let the keening sounds escape his throat, but his shoulders are shaking.
“Yu! I! Chi!”
“Nee-chan, please just leave it,” he manages. “Please, don’t.”
Yua stills.
“You sound awful. Little brother, what happened to you?”
“Ah--” he can’t hold it in any more. He cries, a high whine that sounds like an injured animal. He can’t. He can’t do this. He can’t--
Yua’s weight lifts from the bed, and a few quiet footsteps take her out of his room. His door shuts with a soft swish.
He flops onto his back. He can feel that his features are distorted, like a player’s mask: sadness, despair. He can’t school his expression, and his eyes sting with tears. He’s crying, the pain welling up from his heart and burning out of his eyes.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have blown this so badly? He could have gone home with Adachi again, he could be-- SHOULD be sleeping at his house right now, no Rokkaku, no distractions-- but he couldn’t.
Tsurai. Every moment I spend with you, it hurts. That’s what he had blurted out, in that moment of total stupidity.
Every moment they spent together scratched and scratched at the careful masonry around Kurosawa’s heart. He had dammed up this love, walled in his crush. And he had been fine with that! Truly! Like, it’s obviously not GREAT to have an unrequited love, it’s not exactly FUN, but hey it’s better than, say…having your heart broken, right? From safe inside his walled up heart, Kurosawa had felt free to love Adachi from a distance.
(The front door opened and shut with a click. Yua was gone. Kurosawa was alone in the apartment.)
But then over the last few weeks and months, something had changed. Adachi was seeing him. Adachi was smiling at him, noticing him, speaking to him like a friend.
Adachi was kind, and sweet, and gorgeous and-- and when he slept, his mouth was open and his hair fanned out like black silk across his pillow. When he ate breakfast his eyes were wide and he stuffed his face and exclaimed, “YUM!!”. When he was at home he wore baggy T-shirts and soft no-name-brand sweatpants and read manga and sketched pictures.
Every moment Kurosawa spent with Adachi had exponentially multiplied the love. Before, he only knew that Adachi liked Japanese food. Now he knew that he liked Sakura brand fine-tipped pens, and strawberry probiotics, and zombie classic movies! He KNEW that! How could he cope with these things? Every single one was an arrow thudding into his soft and bruised heart.
“Oh my god, I told him,” Kurosawa says, and he remembers the conversation with brittle and painful clarity.
“Adachi. It’s fine. I’m going back to my house.”
“What? But-- your sister, isn’t she at your--.”
“No! It’s painful! Adachi, being with you is painful. I just can’t.”
“Kurosawa, what?”
“ Omae no koto suki nanda. I’m in love with you!”
Adachi’s face-- he had looked stunned. His sweet face was a blank mask. Was he shocked? Was he disgusted, or afraid? Did he think Kurosawa would hurt him? He wouldn’t, never, ever. Had he really not known how he felt? But, augh, why would he??
Kurosawa thumps onto his mattress, fists hard. Adachi is kind, he’ll save Kurosawa’s face, he won't humiliate him. He will kindly pretend it never happened. Tomorrow, next week, they’ll see each other at work, and Kurosawa will try to put him at his ease, he’ll try to rebuild the walls, he’ll try not to hoard every moment with Adachi--
But. Tsurai. Every moment I’m with you hurts.
Kurosawa curls onto his side. Why did he have to say it like that? Adachi surely thought he was crazy, in one breath to say he loved him, in the next to say he hurt him-- that was too unfair. Kurosawa should never have put it on him like that, made it sound like Kurosawa was blaming him, it’s not his fault--
“It’s all my fault,” he says out loud, the words breaking. “My fault--” He gasps into his hand. His vision blurs again, he screws his eyes shut-- there’s a sudden rattle at the front door.
“Tada ima!!”
Kurosawa startles and leans up on his elbow.
“Eh, Aneki? What--”
And then Yua is in his room again.
“What-- Aneki, didn’t you leave?”
“I came back. Here.” With a flourish she drops a plastic Lawson’s bag on Kurosawa’s bed, and then sits on the bed next to him.
“Ah, spoons, spoons. Got it!”
“What? What is happening right now??” Kurosawa whispers.
Kurosawa is stunned into immobility. Yua gently presses the plastic spoon into his hand, folding his fingers around it and then rustles in the bag for two small containers of ice cream
“Haagen Dazs. Good for your health. Now, what’s going on. Spill the beans, little brother.”
For a moment, Kurosawa just stares at the ice cream in her hand. She nudges it against his hand holding the spoon, like a cat butting its head against him.
He sits up further and accepts the ice cream.
“Coconut fudge,” he reads mechanically.
“Yup. A little boring for me, but it’s your favorite, right?”
“Huh, yeah. It always was.”
“There ya go.” She breaks into her own container of ice cream, and flings the lid onto his bed side table, leaving a sticky pink smudge. “Oh yeah, yum. So. What do I owe the pleasure?”
“Yua…” Kurosawa is still holding the ice cream unopened. She humphs. He doesn’t have the stamina for her particular brand of nosy-bossy-helpful-demanding right now.
“Yuichi. Come on. Nee-chan is here.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” he grumps, mostly out of habit. He’s too tired to fight. She knows she’s won, and she pulls his head onto her bony shoulder.
“Yoshi yoshi, okay, tell me all about it. Who broke your heart. Do I have to go beat someone up? I will, you know I will!”
Kurosawa shakes his head against her shoulder.
“Say AH,” Yua says, and presses a spoonful of her icecream against his closed mouth.
He shakes his head again, and squeezes his eyes shut. He knows he’s acting like a little kid. Ugh, YUA, she brings this out in him, ugh she’s the WORST.
“Yuichi! Eat or talk, choose one! Either way, open your mouth!”
He glowers at her and then accepts the bite of ice cream. It’s cold and fruity.
“Good, right?” she says. “I got the white chocolate cherry cheesecake. Limited edition. I like the flavors with all the junk in it. This could use more junk, honestly…More?”
He nods and opens his mouth for another bite.
“Ts, such a spoiled brat,,” she says, but spoons him another bite. “So?”
Kurosawa swallows. The ice cream is suddenly too sweet. His throat hurts. His eyes sting. He looks down at his hands. He shakes his head. To his horror, a tear falls onto his lap.
“Oh hey, hey. Who’s making you cry, huh?”
He can’t tell her. He pinches his lips together to keep the words in.
“Is it, possibly…” Yua-chan is uncharacteristically gentle. “That Adachi-kun? Your friend who wasn’t feeling well?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Kurosawa says. His voice sounds thick.
“Oh? But…? What happened?”
“Myself, just me,” he says. “I fucked up.”
Yua-chan takes a thoughtful bite of her ice cream, and then liberates Kurosawa’s unopened Coconut fudge from his hand and takes a bite, fishing out the big chunks of fudge with great care and studiousness. She takes a bite and nods her approval.
“Yum. Here.” She presses the ice cream back into his hand, and the cold jolts him into speech.
“I’m gay. Did you know?” His voice sounds…surprisingly normal to his ears. Hardly shaky at all..
“Mn, yeah. I knew.” She shrugs and doesn’t look up from her ice cream. She’s chasing the ribbons of white chocolate through the cherry spirals. “That okay, that I knew?”
“Yes?” he says, a little lost. “What, yes of course you can know, but… is it okay with you?”
“Pfff, not up to me, is it?” She jabs her spoon back into his ice cream, swipes a piece of fudge, and mashes it into her cheesecake ice cream, stirring it all to a red-pink-chocolate-fudge coconut slurry.
“That’s an abomination,” he blurts out.
She lifts her eyebrow. “To each their own,” she says and cheers her mixed up garbage ice cream container against his where it is softening, resting on his leg. “I can like garbage ice cream and you can like boys. It’s a free world!”
In spite of himself, he laughs. It comes out tremulous.
“Okay,” he says. “Is it…really that simple to you? Just-- it’s a free world?”
Yua puts her sticky ice cream down (on his furniture!!) and decisively wipes her hands on his coverlet (!!! demon woman) and turns to face him. “I think so, yes. And if it’s not free, not really, then we’ll live as if it is. Life’s too short for boring ice cream.”
“That’s the most Yua-esque thing you could say,” he huffs.
“Thanks. But you’re not getting out of this. I bought you ice cream. Tell me about this cute little Adachi-kun. What did he do to get you into such a state?”
“He didn’t do anything, Yua, seriously. I just… he’s so kind. He’s so good. He’s this gentle steady presence. When I’m around him, I just-- fuaaaa, everything just feels better, like I can finally--”
“Relax,” Yua says, finishing his thought. “The noise in your head goes quiet?”
Kurosawa sighs. “Yes. Exactly. And, that should be enough, right? More than enough to expect. He’s a coworker, he barely knows I exist, he has no idea that I, or he didn’t--”
Kurosawa finds a bottle of wheat tea in his hands and he takes a drink under Yua-chan’s wide gaze until his breathing is under control again.
“Take your time,” she says, like it’s easy, like she really doesn’t mind seeing him fall apart like this. Like she really doesn’t care that he’s gay, like it doesn’t change anything…
“I thought I could take it slow, sort of sound him out a little. See if there was any chance of us being friends, or being more than friends. I should have waited, held out. But…”
“But?” Yua nudges him, and lifts his ice cream out of his hands to take another bite.
“I just blurted it out. I confessed my feelings. Not nicely, or with flowers or dinner or anything, just Omae no koto suki nan da!!”
“Pffffffff, classic Yuichi. That’s heavy. That poor kid! Did he faint??”
Kurosawa groans. “No, he didn’t say anything, and then I-- I said to just forget it, and that I’d make everything go back to normal and then I left.”
“So… he didn’t say anything?”
“No, of course not, what could he possibly say? This is completely one-sided, and I made a total hash of it. Maybe if I had been able to wait a little more, or just play it cool, or… maybe I should have just avoided him, not let it even get this far--”
“No, no no. Shhh, Yuichi. Stop the spiral. Here, eat your ice cream. You like this boy, right?”
Kurosawa nods miserably into his melted ice cream. “So much,” he says softly.
“You love him?”
He hesitates for a moment, and then looks up at her, eyes red-rimmed and skin blotched, and nods. “I think so.”
“Oof, I’m sorry, little brother,” Yua sighs. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“What are you talking about.”
“The bad news is, you are definitely in love. This level of suffering is only made possible through the power of true and deep love.”
“Eh? That’s the bad news?”
“Oh yes. Nothing hurts as much as love. It hurts to fall in love, it hurts to confess, it hurts to get rejected or accepted. It hurts to change your life and yourself to fit with another person, it hurts to not fit. It hurts to have love go on and on, it hurts to have love end.”
“Jesus, Nee-chan that’s not very--”
“I’m not done little brother!”
“Ah, hai hai.” Kurosawa says.
“It’s the good news too.”
“Hm?”
Yua chan’s pretty face breaks into a huge grin. “Yuichi!! My little brother! You’re miserable because of your love for a boy!!! I’m so happy for you!!!”
“Ehhhh??”
“Yes, I’ve waited ages and ages and ages!” She jostles his shoulder. “Now we can commiserate about boys! Crushes on boys, dating boys, ooh, fucking boys--- hahaha, NO don’t hit me with the pillow, I’ve got ice cream!!”
Kurosawa drops the pillow and slides down under the covers and covers his face with his hands.
“I don’t want to.”
“Mean. You don’t want to talk to your big sister about boys??”
“I don’t want to talk about any other boys. Only him. Only Adachi.” He curls into himself. His back begins to shake. Yua’s hand is soft and she pats his shoulder and rhythmically, stopping now and then to take another bite of ice cream or smooth his hair behind his ear.
Kurosawa feels like a little boy again, when his marmalade kitten ran off for three days. Yua brought him her comic books and a box of pink and white animal crackers that tasted like anise. She said it was because the books were old and she didn’t like the licorice flavor. He had been mad, typically Yua-chan, just giving him garbage! But later she borrowed the books back and got herself another bag of the cookies. So maybe….
His breathing calms, and he reaches one hand over his shoulder and squeezes his sister’s hand.
“Ne. Thanks Nee-chan. F’real.”
“No problem,” Yua says quietly, and then adds, “You owe me 1000 yen for the ice cream.”
“No. Consider it rent.” Kurosawa mumbles into his damp pillow.
“Eh, no way!!” Yua says.
“Consider it a cleaning fee. You got ice cream on my covers.”
“Ah, so ungrateful!!” she says and shakes him, “when here I’m looking out for you, having you stay at your beau’s house--”
“He’s not my beau!”
“And watering your plants while you’re away--”
“They’re FAKE plants, aneki!”
“Ah they-- what? They’re fake? Huh. That explains it,” Yua says thoughtfully. There is a beat, and then they both giggle, a little stuffy and teary, both feeling a little young for their age. At last Yua sighs and Yuichi rolls onto his back and stares more-or less dry-eyed at the ceiling.
“Wanna watch something?” Yua says.
“Yeah. Something scary. Really really scary, to give you nightmares.”
“We’re in our thirties, how are you still like this?”
“Grow up.”
“You.”
“Shut up.”
Yua flicked Kurosawa’s laptop open and picked a horror movie and then jumped back under the covers.
“Ne. Aneki.”
“Hm?”
“Aneki. Thanks.”
“Shut up.”