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Oda closed the door to the passenger seat of Ango’s car, and twisted his upper body to face the backseat, placing the coat he was wearing earlier that night onto the leather seat. He noticed how Ango’s car was clean, it looked like it was freshly off a car lot, with the aroma of a new car lingering in the air still.
“Make sure you buckle up.” Ango said, glancing over to Oda. He turned the key in the ignition, the engine of his Lexus coming alive with a soft purr, the radio coming on from a previous drive.
“Yes sir.” Oda replied, clicking his seat belt. He took his turn to glance at Ango. The lights from the dashboard reflected off his glasses, casting a pale blue glow on his face, highlighting his sharp features, the contours of his cheekbones becoming that much more noticeable under dim lighting. “Mind if I roll the window down? It’s nice out.”
“Sure. Thank you again, for letting me stay at your place. I don’t know what Dazai has done to my apartment, all I know is I can’t go back there for a few days. Something about a bomb or some type of explosive he thought would be fun to surprise me with.”
“Sounds like Dazai. At least it didn’t explode on you.” Oda leaned his head back against the headrest, a nice breeze coming in from the rolled-down windows. The streets were empty, the only thing surrounding them were yellow tinged street lamps, and a comfortable silence. Oda couldn’t tell if it was the trust they had in one another, or the stillness of the night that made the world feel tranquil, but he was happy with his current situation, regardless.
The two had known each other for a while now, having met through mutual affiliations in the mafia. Within this time, they had both grown close, but Oda had grown a specific fondness for Ango. Moreso, he had fallen for him. It came unexpectedly, like waves crashing into rocks with erosive force, he could only hope this love wouldn’t chip away at him the same way. He had trust in Ango, trust in his current friendship, trust in his intelligence, trust that maybe he reciprocates the feeling. He noticed how whenever he spoke, Ango would lean in to listen, how he paid attention to every syllable said, and how Ango’s eyes seemed to lighten up when they spoke. Of course, he may be reading into things too much. The only way he would have any type of confirmation of his suspicions would be to simply confess.
Simply. As if confessing the feelings you have for someone is anything simple.
“What’s on your mind?” Ango asked Oda, breaking the silence between the two. He looked to Oda, and saw him staring at the street lights as they passed.
Oda took his eyes off the street, and looked at Ango, who had returned his eyes back to the road.
“I was thinking of our conversation earlier, about how I’d like to be a writer.” Oda responded. He was thinking of the prior conversation, yes, but those thoughts had become mixed with his feelings for the man in the driver’s seat. His future ocean-side room had now included Ango; they could share the free time they had on the beach, basking in the sunlight and salty air.
“What if you went with me?” Oda muttered, accidentally thinking out loud, but Ango was able to hear him.
“What?”
Oda spoke again, this time a bit louder. “When I leave the mafia. What if you came with me?”
Oda didn’t know how exactly he would’ve confessed to Ango, so he went along with the current opportunity of his misspeaking, hoping it just might work in his favor.
“When you leave the mafia, you mean when you plan on pursuing your writing?”
“Exactly. Would you like to join me?”
The silence settled between them again, this time not as comfortably, instead there was a slight tension, or at least Oda had felt that way. He did just invite the man he had feelings for to essentially drop his present life and move with him, after all.
Ango had pulled into the driveway in front of Oda’s home, the gravel crunching under the tires. Oda had rolled his window up as Ango parked, and both men exited the car, Oda having forgotten about his coat still draped on the backseat, more occupied with the current topic of conversation.
“I think that would be nice, but I’m not sure I’d be able to leave the mafia as well.” Ango had finally replied, standing at the hood of the car. Ango knew with his position as a triple agent that it’s likely he’d never get to be alongside Oda as he chased his dream, despite how alluring it sounded. Living a life away from the tribulations of the mafia and government, enjoying one another’s company with the ocean in the distance. A pretty dream unattainable due to the ugliness of reality, something forever out of Ango’s reach.
Oda paused, standing at the other side of the car’s hood. He hadn’t exactly thought this through, with this being a subtle way of his confessing. Ango also didn’t downright tell him no, either. “I’d like you to join me. If you’re able too, of course. It’ll be awhile before I leave the mafia, I need to make sure the kids are taken care of first.”
“If I’m able to, then I’d be happy to join you.” Ango smiled at him, and Oda smiled back. He would take Ango’s response to his veiled-confession as a possible yes.