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Love is a Flower

Summary:

Why does the office worker stay late at work? To dance with his boss, of course.

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The low light of the office caused Sawashiro to squint at his ledger, the contrasting, bright light of his desk lamp illuminating the various numbers and names in the columns before him. The longer he studied his notes, the more he felt his eyebrows slowly begin to knit together. He didn’t attempt to suppress a disappointed grumble once he looked everything over, snapping the book shut and rubbing his eyes.

But the loud clap of the book roused attention from the room adjacent to him, undoubtedly disturbing the sound of a melody coming from the heart of Arakawa’s office, and in turn, alerting its inhabitant. “Is everything alright, Jo?”

Despite the music permeating the office, Sawashiro had nearly forgotten he wasn’t the only one actually in the building and found himself caught off guard by Arakawa’s voice. It was more often than not he was the only Arakawa member to stick around after hours, but it wouldn’t be accurate to say that the patriarch himself seldom stayed late on occasion.

Looking over to his boss, Sawashiro was met with Arakawa’s concerned expression as he offered him a slight tilt of his head, writing hand stalled while it hovered over a piece of paper. In turn, Sawashiro gave a shake of his head, putting the ledger back in the divider on his desk.

“It’s nothing you should worry about, sir. Just a small hiccup.” A minor decrease in revenue was nothing to start a panic over- not when Sawashiro was certain he knew the reason for it and could pursue a solution…

“Then what’s the sour look for?” When Arakawa called it out directly, Sawashiro raised his eyebrows perplexed, effectively hiding the aforementioned look with surprise. Had he been scowling? It didn’t seem to matter anymore as Arakawa chuckled at him, resulting in Sawashiro to hide himself as he looked back down at his desk. He scratched at the back of his ear as an awkward burn began to prick his skin.

“That’s just my face…” He attempted to keep his voice leveled, but when it came to being alone with Arakawa, he found his guard dropping more often than he'd like: the shy sound that came from his lips didn't sound a thing like himself.

“That’s not ‘just your face-’ you make that face when something’s annoying you,” Arakawa corrected, wagging his finger at him with a playful grin. As the enka music emanating from the small radio on Arakawa’s coffee table echoed, Sawashiro could only hope the woman’s powerful singing would be enough to drown out his embarrassment. Eyeing the document on his own desk, Arakawa leaned back in his chair as he slid it to the edge of the table. “Why don’t we call it a night, then? Whatever it is, we can worry about it in the morning.”

There was a fine point, Sawashiro conceding with a small nod as he rose from his desk. “Of course- I’ll have it taken care of in the morning.” He moved to stand in the doorway to Arakawa’s office, beginning to offer Arakawa a polite bow goodbye. “Goodnight, then.”

Though as he turned to leave, Arakawa was quick to call after him. “Oi- I didn’t say you had to leave. Why don’t you stay a little longer? Just so I know you’re not going to worry about…” Arakawa trailed off, uncertain of exactly what there was to worry about. As a substitute, he waved his hand in the air, hoping Sawashiro would fill in the blanks himself. “...You know.”

Though it was an invitation, Sawashiro interpreted it as an absolute order and stepped into the office with haste. Taking a seat at the coffee table, his eyes naturally fell onto the small, white radio before him. It appeared old, the corners marred with nicks and the red dial’s paint seemingly having begun to wear a long time ago. Despite its apparent age, the sounds of shakuhachi still clearly pierced through the worn speakers with a crisp sound.

When Arakawa had invited him into his office, he expected a conversation of sorts to ensue- Arakawa tended to be the conversational type, after all. In actuality, it appeared as though he was content with Sawashiro's company alone. In contrast, he may have been accustomed to his quiet, non-conversational personality by now. Perhaps he just wanted someone else to enjoy the music with: now that Sawashiro allowed himself to properly listen to it, the tune was rather soothing.

But as the song began to fade away- the radio host interrupting the stream momentarily to announce the irony of a break-free broadcast- the next song gradually started. A fervent shamisen greeted Sawashiro and Arakawa, and as the song began to play out, Sawashiro heard Arakawa shift in his seat, turning to see him lean forward onto his desk.

He stared at the radio with a solemn look, resting his cheek atop his folded hands. In contrast to his forlorn gaze, a sad smile still tugged at the corner of his mouth- yet he tilted his head down enough to hide it behind the back of his hands before Sawashiro could stare for long.

Arakawa didn’t need to match Sawashiro’s curious gaze to know he was aware of the sudden movement, letting a laugh be muffled by his hand. “I haven’t heard this one for a while.” Even if Sawashiro was satisfied with that answer- responding with an affirmative nod- Arakawa felt inclined to elaborate, lifting his head and planting his chin on his hands. His eyes squinted against the fluorescent light, the memory slowly coming back to him. “It couldn’t have been a few months after I started seeing Akane. There was a concert going on in Theater Square-” he nodded to the radio to punctuate the tale. “These girls were holding their first show there. Pretty bold, don’t you think?”

In the middle of the city? And playing- all things considered- archaic music. Definitely not the kind that could easily attract an audience: bold wasn’t enough to describe them.

“It’d been a while since I really got to sit down and enjoy a live performance, so I figured it’d be a good opportunity to spend some time with Akane as well.” The corners of his eyes began to crinkle, a somber smile stretching across his face. “I thought the music was beautiful- but poor Akane just wanted to leave. ‘Masumi-kun, can we go somewhere else? I’m going to fall asleep if we sit here any longer!’”

He began to pull on his sleeve- mimicking the Akane from his memory- and hid his smile more as he lowered his head.  “‘Please? I’ll even buy us dinner’! I tried to convince her to give it a few more minutes but…” letting go of his sleeve, he laughed to himself and shook his head, looking back at Sawashiro with a smile. “We got barbecue soon after that.”

The story should have ended there, but as Arakawa’s smile relaxed, he stared ahead, aimlessly speaking to the room. “...She asked me to meet her after work one day- convinced her boss to let her borrow a room for the evening. One thing’s for sure, I wasn’t expecting to hear enka music when I walked in that night.” 

Arakawa brought his attention back to the radio, meanwhile Sawashiro had yet to ever remove his eyes from Arakawa while he reminisced. He may not have been very emotionally intelligent, yet Arakawa’s longing was painfully palpable. “I didn’t mind that she would complain about the music every now and then. It was only fair that she was willing to bear it if it meant I got to dance with the woman I loved to the music I loved...”

Truly finished with his story this time around, Sawashiro was left to only stare. Stories about Arakawa and his woman always left him uncomfortable- not because of anything Arakawa said, of course. His own failures in humanity was what truly made him awkward: it should’ve been impossible for a notorious man like Arakawa to have such tender memories, yet when even the likes of him were capable of it, Sawashiro could only reflect on his own failed relationships. Where did he go wrong- what did he do wrong…

…It wasn’t a matter worth wondering about. He had enough answers to those questions anyhow. Moreover, whatever life he ever entertained of having was irrelevant, he had long accepted the fate he had now: there was no point in speculating on anything different. Arakawa, however, was a more curious man than he was and was more inclined to indulge in ideas. Shifting his attention to Sawashiro, he seemed to remember the presence of his company. “How about you, Jo? Have you ever danced before?”

“No, sir.” Sawashiro didn’t need to ponder the question- more so, he didn’t want to. He had only ever been intimate with one girl, and even then that relationship felt strained in retrospect. He was unable to imagine ever being able to dance with her- never mind the fact he could only remember her face nowadays. “It’s not my thing.”

While he spoke, Arakawa had already decided to get up from his seat and move next to Sawashiro’s side, hands snug in his dress-pants pockets. “Really? I’m surprised: I was sure at least one girl would have taken a shine to you!”

He wasn’t wrong- technically one did. But, once more, it was a complicated situation- a situation that never failed to haunt him every day. At the very least, that situation was what led him to Arakawa’s office in the first place. It was hard to say it was an entirely bad set of circumstances when he thought of it like that…

Regardless, Sawashiro soon felt Arakawa’s hand tap his bicep, prompting him to rise. “It’s not hard- here, get up. I think you'll have fun with it.”

In an instant, Sawashiro was standing before Arakawa, the small height difference between them causing Sawashiro to have to look down a tad. Even if he was physically taller than him, Arakawa still managed to make him feel small- an inappropriate feeling when he was looking at him so tenderly opposed to any way that would warrant feeling diminutive. Was it because in their hierarchy, Arakawa ranked greater than him? Inversely, perhaps it was that strange, almost-personal warmth that left Sawashiro uneasy: it was too foreign for him, too new even now. He’d grown up partial to hiding from changes- but he was a man now, he couldn’t become jumpy at every new experience. Especially not in this line of work.

But ’personal’ didn’t begin to describe how Arakawa proceeded: without hesitation, his gloved hand took hold of one of Sawashiro’s, the other snaking behind him and pulling him closer by the small of his back. “You don’t mind if I lead, do you? Just so you can get the hang of it.” He smiled up at him as though he really had a choice, yet even if he did Sawashiro was sure that he wouldn’t have minded anyway.

“That’d only be natural, wouldn’t it?”

“Right. Now- put your hand on my shoulder…” And so Arakawa began to guide them through the start of their dance, stepping in tune with the music from the radio. Arakawa was right in that it was relatively simple to do, yet Sawashiro still felt himself overly conscious of where he was stepping. His eyes had practically been glued to the floor, conscientious not to trip or fumble over himself- or more importantly, over Arakawa. Unfortunately, his cautiousness had made him rigid, too worried to move and leaving Arakawa to have to tug him at times.

“Jo,” Arakawa spoke finally, tearing Sawashiro’s attention away from the ground and back on him. “When you dance with someone, it’s supposed to be an experience you share together. We can’t do that if you keep looking down.”

“Forgive me, I was just making sure I don’t trip.” He found his gaze already slipping back down, but a light shake from Arakawa brought him back up. He expected to find a look of disappointment due to Sawashiro's difficulty, bu he was only met with Arakawa’s amused smile.

“It’s alright, Jo! You can relax…” Arakawa eased their steps, instead leading the two to focus on swaying together. “Let’s go slow.”

When they did, Sawashiro found it a lot easier to keep his head up, only flicking his eyes down on occasion to ensure he hadn’t magically moved his feet to someplace wrong. It wasn’t long before he stopped looking down all together, unaware that he’d been staring intently at Arakawa now, too focused on the swaying of his body and the hypnotic music. Happy with the progress he made, Arakawa gave his hand a light squeeze, stepping closer and starting to swing his hips more loosely in rhythm with the music.

“There you go. I told you you’d be okay.” At the squeeze, Sawashiro couldn’t help looking over at the gloved hand, his own easily being able to feel the hollow space in the pinky portion of the glove. The missing digit would not just be an eternal reminder of how Arakawa brought a runt into the family- had sacrificed an appendage for some mouthy kid- but now he was quickly being reminded of the woe he had earlier that night…

“What’s wrong?” Turning to Arakawa, Sawashiro became confused- however Arakawa wouldn’t let him stew in his confusion for long. “You’re frowning again.”

“Boss…”

“You can tell me, Jo. We’re family: we’re supposed to trust each other. It's clear this is really bothering you.”

The word still made Sawashiro choke whenever he heard it no matter how much he’d heard it by now: family was hardly a thing he had growing up, it was hard to consider himself a part of one whether it was in the literal sense, or in regards to the underworld. That was why Sawashiro wouldn’t risk sullying that chance he was given by hiding his grievances when they weren’t worth holding onto- it was clan-related anyway, it wouldn't hurt to share. “...We’ve come up short this month.”

“That’s all? Like I said: nothing we can’t fix tomorrow.” But Sawashiro’s frown only worsened, his grip on Arakawa’s hand slightly tightening.

“I was looking over the problem properties- they were in districts I entrusted to Ichi.” At that, Arakawa lolled his head to the side, interest suddenly on the ceiling.

“Ah… is that right?” He readjusted his posture, returning to look at Sawashiro. “I suppose we’ll have to talk to him about it. He’s still green, you know: he's still understanding how everything works in his own way.”

“That’s why we need to be stricter on him, sir. You’re too soft on him—” Sawashiro felt his heart stop as his shoe grazed against Arakawa’s, the sudden contact almost startling him enough to cause him to trip. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Arakawa reassured, giving Sawashiro a moment to fix himself before they returned to steady swaying. He bit the inside of his cheek at Sawashiro’s previous statement once he pondered it, incidentally letting his cheek fall onto his shoulder soon after. “He’s only a kid, Jo. Let him make a few mistakes before you start cracking the whip: he hasn’t done anything egregious.”

If Sawashiro had any opposition, it became stuck in his throat the moment he felt Arakawa’s head press against him, the faint tickle of his breath distracting him from his grudge against the boy. In any case, now certainly was not the time to be discussing clan matters. It was a moment for him and Arakawa to share- not to talk business.

When Arakawa was met with silence, he moved away from Sawashiro’s shoulder and met his mildly-bewildered expression, returning a bashful look of his own as he stepped back. “...Sorry, some habits die hard I suppose.”

Not wanting to offend him, Sawashiro was quick to retort the apology: “You don’t have to apologize. I just… wasn’t expecting it.” A cruel irony existed in Sawashiro’s only relationship having been from when he was a teenager: now, nearing his forties, Sawashiro again felt like a nervous teen as he squeezed Arakawa’s hand once more. As far as anyone was concerned, Jo Sawashiro was fearless and cold-hearted- if anything,  he was the one making others scared. So how was it that he found himself swallowing against the worry bundling in his throat? Never mind when it came to a man he’d been close with for nearing two decades at this point. He had no reason to be anxious, but still… “If you’d like to… You’re welcomed to…”

He attempted to clear his throat, but in doing so it brought out a small laugh from Arakawa, inversely making the lump worse and his face warm. Fortunately, Arakawa didn’t need any more strained hints as he placed his head back in the crook of Sawashiro’s shoulder, closing his eyes and allowing himself to enjoy both his presence and the music as the current song began to fade out. They were fortunate the broadcaster from before kept his word as a new song started without interruption, allowing the duo to continue in seamless peace.

…Or relative peace. With Arakawa pressed against him, Sawashiro felt his shoulders lock, as though one wrong breath would tarnish the moment. Trying to label precisely what he and Arakawa had developed over the years frustrated him. Were they friends? Simple co-workers seemed out of the question. If so, did friends typically interact this close with each other? He didn’t have many growing up, this very well could have been normal. But was it normal to still feel this fluttery feeling in his chest after so many years of this type of behavior—

A smack in-between his shoulder blades snapped Sawashiro out of his thinking, jolting him awake to look at Arakawa. “Your shoulders are so stiff!” Maybe as intended, the strike onto him released all the tension he’d been holding onto as he dropped his shoulders, earning himself a satisfied hum. “I’m not working you too hard, am I? If you ever need a break, let me know.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” With his body more relaxed, Sawashiro, too, found himself rocking more freely. Looking at the wall behind Arakawa, he couldn’t help but let his head fall on top of his head, resting his cheek atop Arakawa’s neatly-combed hair. He was hesitant to move the arm on Arakawa’s shoulder, but when he moved it behind him- bringing him closer with a hug- he wasn’t met with any opposition. If anything, Arakawa relaxed in his hold and returned the hug, rubbing the small of Sawashiro’s back with a pleased sigh. For once- maybe only once- Sawashiro would force himself to put his fretting to bed. Just once, he’d let himself appreciate the warm body pressed against him as they danced to the radio, the room momentarily filled only with its harmonious instrumentals. Had it not been for the woman singing her ballad moments later, Sawashiro might have been able to convince himself he and Arakawa were the only people left in Kamurocho. Worst of all, when he dared to think of it, he could barely keep the thought of living a life with only the Arakawas- of living a life with only Masumi and his son- at bay for so long before he found himself hoping that would be a possibility one day.

It wouldn't be, he accepted years ago. It was best he kept a healthy distance from them: close enough to be of use, but not close enough to be too comfortable- though where he stood now, he might have crossed that line a long time ago.