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“Alright.”
There’s no reluctance at all when Wakatoshi sits up in bed and takes the little plate onto his lap. It’s not the first time Satori has woken him up in the middle of the night or early in the morning on a weekend to make him try one of his newest creations. Surprisingly, it’s not an issue for Wakatoshi at all. Not only has he worked these sweet little taste-testing sessions into his elaborate athlete’s diet plan, but also usually instantly stops whatever he’s doing to assist Satori. In this case, he’s majorly missing out on some sleep.
It’s endearing how seriously Wakatoshi takes this. Satori loves watching him try to be all professional and criticise the redhead in the nicest way possible. In earlier attempts, Wakatoshi mostly stayed neutral, much to Satori’s dismay. They’ve come a long way since then and by now Wakatoshi’s constructive criticism is a great aid for improvement.
A huge smile is plastered on Satori’s face when his boyfriend musters the three little chocolates sitting on the plate, lifting one to his face for closer inspection. “The shape isn’t perfect-“
“I know. It’s just a sample, oh and the finished batch will be pink.” Satori laughs nervously and takes the other white chocolate ball. This one is perfectly round, too bad Wakatoshi happened to take the misshapen one. Nevertheless, it’s moments like these that Satori feels truly happy, truly lucky. I mean, how many people would actually do this so often despite really not being a fan of chocolate?
Wakatoshi nods in understanding and plops the chocolate into his mouth, Satori doing the same. Although the praline is coated in a thin layer of white chocolate from the outside, the shell is mainly composed of dark chocolate. It’s made from the extraordinary Trinitatario beans grown near the sleepy village of Rio Caribe on the magical Paria peninsula. Yeah, Satori spent weeks studying them. The chocolate beans’ origin is a fun fact that Wakatoshi would surely remember for a long time, but wouldn’t really take any interest in, so Satori keeps it to himself.
The former ace closes his eyes, although so far his face remains stoic. Satori tries to time his chews with Wakatoshi’s, so he has a rough idea how far in the layers of the praline he is, and with that, what his reactions could mean. The complex nut and coffee notes of the chocolate almost make Satori sigh in bliss. It hasn’t been long since he discovered this bean for himself, but so far he’s really loving not only working with it.
The next layer is same dark chocolate, although it’s much fluffier and of a cloud-like consistency. Wakatoshi’s lips part, the corners lifting upwards in something closely resembling a smile. Although he’s never admitted it, Satori knows that this is his favourite kind of chocolate. The way the almost crunchy outer layer perfectly blends into this mousse, which then again creates a perfect gradient into-
“Raspberry? No, it’s a cherry filling, isn’t it?” Wakatoshi’s hazel eyes are open again, letting the dim yellow light of his bedside lamp bring specks of green and gold in them to life.
“Nope, it’s raspberry. You got it right the first time.” Satori chuckles and takes one of Wakatoshi’s hands between his own, gently massaging his palm and the back. “How is it?”
Wakatoshi gives him the are-you-for-real look and smiles. “I guess I like this one most so far, and you know it. It’s good, definitely an improvement of your last attempt at the soft chocolate and fruit filling. Although I would have let it cool in the fridge a while longer.”
“That’s so mean! And, noted, I was just way too excited to show you.” Satori leans forward and places a kiss on Wakatoshi’s cheek. Putting a hand on his thigh in the process, he notices something of a nervous twitch in his leg. Maybe it’s just a light muscle strain again. “Ready for the other chocolate?”
No response. Wakatoshi slowly reaches out to grab Satori’s hands silently and interlaces their fingers. Satori cocks his head to the side and gives the other’s hands a little squeeze in return. “Wakawaka? Everything alright?”
Another pause, and Satori decides not to press the matter any further. He shifts to sit next to Wakatoshi and puts an arm around him, cuddling into his warm side. Wakatoshi glares at the hand Satori just let go off, then as if finally snapping out of his trance, lifts his head and nods. “Yeah, I’m ready for the next chocolate.”
Satori frowns as he watches him put the last chocolate into his mouth. He doesn’t close his eyes this time, as he has done every single time when trying Satori’s desserts in the past. It’s seriously starting to worry him a bit, but Wakatoshi isn’t one to keep things to himself. He will tell him once the time has come.
With a bit of a struggle, Satori tries to recall what this other chocolate is supposed to be like. He didn’t save one of those for himself, yet he had it so fresh in mind when bursting into the room, but now… Yes, it was the same bean as the other one, but it’s milk chocolate now, with a soft creamy filling and some condensed milk. An experiment sweeter than the previous, as Satori prefers it himself, but he knows that Wakatoshi is more fond of dark chocolates and fruity notes. Maybe working with herbal flavours would be a nice idea for the future.
His thoughts shift back to reality and he realises Wakatoshi has already stopped chewing and is blankly staring off into space.
“How was the praline?”
A silence falls over the room that’s even heavier than the last. What is going on? Satori frowns and inspects Wakatoshi’s face. The furrowed eyebrows, the downcast eyes that an entire storm seems to be raging behind. Something is definitely wrong.
Before Satori has the chance to speak up again, the alarm of Wakatoshi’s phone goes off and the volleyball player is up and on his feet in no time. “I forgot, I need to drive my cousin.”
Satori leans back on the bed and squints. His gaze meets Wakatoshi’s, who’s standing in the room with as stoic of a face as he can bring up. He could have just written ‘suspicious’ in sharpie on his forehead. “Where does Tadashi need to be?”
“The hair salon.”
It all sounds too practised, too thought-through. And the way Wakatoshi is staring at him, awaiting Satori’s reaction as if to see whether he will buy it or not. And Satori isn’t buying it. Not at all. But if there are things that Wakatoshi has to keep from his almost-fiancé, then so be it.
It’s no secret Wakatoshi is planning to propose. Satori saw the purple velvety box in multiple ‘hidden’ locations around the house, such as a drawer in the kitchen that Satori is the one who mostly cooks in. Maybe this is just a part of some plan for the proposal?
“Alright, tell him hi from me. I’ll go back to sleep for a while, call if you need anything. Okay?”
Wakatoshi eagerly nods and rushes off to get washed up and dressed. Satori closes his eyes, listening to the domestic sounds of Waka getting ready. Taking a shower, brushing his teeth, coming back to the bedroom with what Wakatoshi probably thinks are silent steps, grabbing some clothes and putting them on. Satori has watched him often enough to be able to picture all of it. Socks on, trousers second and a shirt last.
A pair of chapped and faded lips is pressed to Satori’s forehead before more steps are heard. Wakatoshi grabs the keys, shuts the door quietly, and he’s gone. Satori stares up at the ceiling, finding it slightly odd to be lying on Wakatoshi’s half of the bed for once. It’s the small changes in perspective that make the room shift. From his usual position, he wouldn’t be able to catch a glimpse of the painting on the opposite wall of the hallway, a sentiment of Tsutomu. On the other hand, he can’t see the birch shelf lined with their few books and of course the home phone.
Just as he thinks of it, it starts ringing. With a heavy sigh, Satori rolls out of bed. He hits his head against the wardrobe, an obstacle he never had to fight against on his side of the bed. He curses under his breath and jumps the last few steps towards the phone, picking it up quickly while rubbing the side of his head.
“Tendo-“
“Sendai Tokushukai Hospital, am I speaking to Mr. Ushijima?”
An icy shiver runs down Satori’s spine at the sound of the word ’hospital’ on the other end. That never means anything good. He contemplates whether he should lie and say yes, but decides against doing so. “No, it’s his boyfriend. He’s not in right now.”
“Oh, I see. I will call later again then.“
“No, it’s alright. He asked me to pass the information to him if someone calls.” Satori bites his lip nervously. He shouldn’t be lying, but he can’t help it. ”How can I help?”
“I… I suppose it’s alright. We would just like to remind him of his first appointment for chemotherapy.” The nurse’s, or secretary’s, or whoever-the-hell-she-is’s voice makes the blood run cold in Satori’s veins. Chemotherapy? “He may check in at any time between 9AM to 6PM.”
The line goes silent. Satori has no idea how to respond. A thick lump is forming in his throat. The phone almost slips out of his hand. Tears are welling up in his eyes.
No, it can’t be.
He shakes his head, then remembers that the woman needs some kind of approval that he understood and nods, then remembers that she can’t see him and he has to say something.
“Thank you. Bye.” It’s barely a whisper, maybe the woman didn’t even hear him. He gives her no time to complain about it though, as he hangs up and practically slumps to the floor right the next second.
Chemotherapy. What an ugly word. It sounds like a snake, like Voldemort spitting out a nasty curse in parseltongue. There’s no way Wakatoshi needs that. Does it mean he-? No.
Satori wishes he would have counted the minutes he spent crunched down between floor, shelf and wall. It feels like barely any time at all, but the ache of his back and pain behind his eyes from crying so much tell him that it’s been at least an hour, if not more.
Images of Wakatoshi keep flashing in his mind, of him being sick and ill and pale and looking nothing like himself. He attempts to push them away, but they keep reappearing. Every time he thinks it’s over, another flashes before his eyes like lightning and he hides even further into the corner, like that would change anything or help him.
The front door swings open with its usual creak, closing shut in a deafening banging sound even though it was closed only lightly. Has it always been this loud?
“I’m back,” Wakatoshi calls.
There’s no strength left in Satori’s body to push himself up and stand. He opens his mouth to respond, yet nothing but a weak wheeze comes out. He wants to stay in this narrow space a while longer. He looks at the watery stains of black on his dark pants and hugs his knees to himself, waiting to be discovered.
“Satori?” Wakatoshi tries again. His steps around their apartment become frantic. He doesn’t see Satori at first, when he walks into the bedroom and looks around in the darkness, turns on the light and looks again. Only then, he turns around and spots Satori, curled into a tight ball of bad thoughts and salty tears.
Wakatoshi kneels down next to him and hesitantly scoops him up to cradle him in his arms. He has to fenackle the shelf to the side to be able to do so, the shelf they’ve been planning to attach to the wall so often already. Satori loosens up a bit and lets himself be held like a baby.
“What’s wrong? Are you injur-“
“Where were you?” Satori buries his face in Wakatoshi’s chest, even though he knows his words will be muffled and barely audible. “You got a call.”
“Who was it from.” Wakatoshi doesn’t even pose it as a question. He has adapted to the quiet tone as well. He knows who the call was from, and he knows what they wanted. He’s only asking because maybe there’s a chance it was someone else. Someone else that wanted something else, that has made Satori cry over something Wakatoshi has the might to fix himself. Just with a snap of his fingers. And the world will be alright again. That isn’t the case.
What Satori is going to address isn’t within Wakatoshi’s power. It’s not within Satori’s either. Or within Tadashi’s, Kei’s, not even within Semi’s or Shirabu’s, who have solved so many issues as a team by fucking it up even further at first and then fixing it, every single time.
“The hospital.”
Wakatoshi lets the words hang in the room. He doesn’t know how much Satori knows, so he waits for him to carry on. If he won’t , Wakatoshi isn’t even sure he would know what to say, or how. This entire situation brings him to his limits. Yes, even Wakatoshi seems to have a limit. He wasn’t even aware of this himself.
He was on top of the world, he ruled it. Everything was within his control, and now here he is. He’s powerless. All he can do is stand and watch.
“Chemo…” The words drown and die out in Satori’s throat. He chokes on a heart-shattering sob and presses his face into Wakatoshi’s sweater, the sweater he crocheted, until his nose hurts. A gentle hand tries to ease him out of hurting himself by gently bringing a hand to the back of his head.
“Nobody knows. Just you and me.”
That makes it even worse, for whatever reason. Satori clutches the back of the sweater even harder, not even caring for the stretch the poor woollen fabric is going through. Wakatoshi was supposed to tell everyone right at once, saying it’s not a big deal. Because it’s not a big deal, because everything will turn out alright. Because it won’t have any impact on their life long-term. Because Wakatoshi will stay right where he is. Growing old beside Satori.
“He will be alright. There’s still a chance for him.” It’s hard for Wakatoshi to force out the words. It’s what he heard from the doctor, but maybe it will make Satori feel even worse about the news. It’s just what doctors always say in their meaningless, monotone voice. He braces for more sobs, tries to remember what more he could do for Satori to comfort him, but to his surprise, he is met with silence. Like Satori is holding his breath. Wakatoshi looks down at him and is met by a pair of eyes that scream confusion.
“Him?”
“Yes. Tadashi will be alright. You’ll see. We could visit.” He keeps talking. About how Kei doesn’t know yet, so they’d have to keep quiet. About how the succession rate may not be high, but the nurses they spoke to were hopeful.
But the rest of Wakatoshi’s speech is a blur to Satori.
“I thought… You… They… They said ’Ushijima’ and I assumed…”
Ushijima. Wakatoshi’s cousin. Ushijima Tadashi. Satori almost laughs out in relief. He feels lucky, Wakatoshi will be alright after all but feels bad for it right away. Now the horrible images in Satori’s mind are of Tadashi, his bright freckled face drained of all colour. His smile is a thin line of grey as he endures the struggles of chemotherapy, all alone. He can’t imagine them being reality.
Wakatoshi’s eyes widen. “No. You’re not losing me. We’re not losing anyone. I promise, everything will be alright.”
And Satori believed him.
⋆⭒⋆✶☆⋆✯⋆⋆
A broken promise can make even the brightest stars of the night sky fade away.