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At times, Agi felt as if he were an observer in his own life.
As if this life that he was seeing could not possibly be real. Could not possibly be his .
At times, he felt weightless, ghosting through the rooms of his own house, like he had died long ago and was resurrected simply to watch the beautiful life he had built for himself, but couldn’t bring himself to fully experience because it was so picture perfect.
Like glass, delicate and fragile, teetering on the edge of security and disaster.
Like a mug of tea, picturesque in its wafting steam and fragrant notes, but set much too close to the edge of the table.
Or a painting done by the hands of a master, yet the oil paint still wet to the touch, ready to be smeared and ruined by a careless hand.
So many moments so mundane, so perfect, so beautiful that Agi just watched. Observed. Because he didn’t want to disturb it. He didn’t want to break the vision. He didn’t want those moments to end, to shatter and break and be ruined by himself. He didn’t know what he was afraid of, other than the fears that he had ignored his whole life by telling himself that he didn’t want these things. That he didn’t need them.
But now that he had them, he did not want to risk them. Did not want to ever, ever let them go.
A husband.
A family.
A son.
What had he done to deserve this? To be so fortunate to not be alone?
Having Seishiro had been enough. He loved being Seishiro’s boyfriend, and had done everything right to make sure that Seishiro would stay with him forever. He made him happy, and made sure he was taken care of. He didn’t ask for more, but gave Seishiro more every day.
When they got married, it was like a dream that he wished he could never wake up from, because in what world would someone like him get married? Cold and mechanical and rigid. He understood why people called him a robot, though he didn’t much care for that analogy.
But Seishiro made him warm. He made him soft. He made him bend over backwards to do anything that would make him smile that soft, sleepy little smile that he loved so much.
Seishiro made him change…for the better. He liked the way his life was when Seishiro was his husband, because it gave him the validation he needed to remind himself that he was in fact still human. That he was alive and worth something more than a creative and inventive and precise footballer. That he could be loved, and love in return.
And not only that, but he also realised that he was worthy of such a love, and that he didn’t have to fight it. That he could give himself over to the fantasy he had created that had since become real and manifested.
He was happy. Really and truly happy for the first time in his life, and he was happy without stipulations or confusion or qualifying factors set upon him by others. He didn’t have a standard to live up to, he could just be happy because Seishiro was in his life.
But then they had a son.
A perfect little boy who was the perfect combination of themselves.
Smart. Tall. Sleepy. He had Seishiro’s grey eyes and light hair, which contrasted with his own dark skin and textured curls. Seishiro called him their dandelion, their cotton ball, because of the way his white curls piled on top of his head, begging to be braided the next time Agi’s mother came to visit.
But Dandelion was not his name.
His name was Theodore, lovingly nicknamed Theo by Agi himself.
He completed their little family, and Agi knew that after him, he truly would not need another thing in this life. It felt so different than all of the other times that he felt like he had enough, because for the first time, it was when he felt fully and truly whole. Like his whole life had been leading up to this moment.
A slew of emotions he had rarely felt. Pride. Protectiveness. True and unconditional love.
All wrapped up in a tiny blue blanket.
Agi had held him like he was made of glass, but his heart swelled to overflowing the first time Theo grasped his finger, holding on with a strength Agi did not think possible of someone so small.
He wanted to cry, another strange emotion for him, but he held it in, pressing his forehead to the tiny one sticking out of the swaddled bundle, promising that he would be the best father. That he would protect him and keep him safe and give him a good life.
Agi thinks that so far, he had lived up to that promise.
Theo was older now, but still only a few years old. He was Seishiro’s little best friend, attached at the hip wherever he went. Agi knew that was mostly because Seishiro had chosen to retire to take care of their little one, and as such, spent long days and nights with him when Agi had to be out of the house for games or practices. One of his favourite pastimes had become coming home to find Seishiro and Theo laying in the bed, napping or playing a game or reading a book, and just seeing them together in their own little world.
One that Agi so terribly wanted to join, but did not want to disturb.
Because he liked watching them.
He liked seeing Seishiro sit on the floor, content to be a fixture for Theo to climb over as he played on the ground. He liked seeing them at the kitchen table together, putting together a puzzle or a lego set that they had been working on together all afternoon. He liked seeing them napping together on the couch, Theo laying across Seishiro’s chest like Seishiro was his bed, completely content and happy to be in his father’s arms.
He also liked when they finally noticed he was there.
Agi liked how they turned in unison, as if they shared not only a sleep schedule but a brain cell, shifting their bodies towards him as his presence was made known. He liked how they smiled the same, their sleepy faces making the same expression from their eyes to their mouths, and Agi knew they were happy that he was finally home. Theo would slide out of his booster seat, tall but still needing an extra few inches to see their creation on the table in the kitchen, and Seishiro would follow, waiting his turn as Agi picked up their son, hugging him tightly before shifting him to his hip, making room for Seishiro to slide underneath his arm, accepting his own hug and kissing his cheek for good measure.
Agi wondered what they did together all day, even though they always told him in full from start to finish. They went to the library or the bookstore so Theo could pick out something new. They went by the bakery to read the book and get something sweet before coming back home for a nap. They spent the rest of the morning playing until Theo was hungry, and Seishiro taught him how to peel a boiled egg and how to use a butter knife to chop it up for sandwiches. They nearly finished their lego set, and Theo grabbed his hand as soon as his feet touched the ground, because he wanted Agi to finish it with them!
Other times, they turned and smiled but did not move from their seat because they were so cosy. Agi liked joining them in the living room when he made it home from practice, taking up residence on the loveseat across from the big couch where the two of them sprawled out. They were watching a movie, and Agi almost wanted to scold Seishiro for letting Theo suck his thumb again, but he knew it wouldn’t have much of an effect at this exact moment. They were both so entranced in whatever it was they were watching, Agi arriving much too late to know a single thing about what was happening.
Theo sat in Seishiro’s lap, covered in a blanket and holding his favourite dinosaur stuffed animal, grey eyes unblinking as they watched the screen. Seishiro’s gaze mirrored his son’s, but instead of sucking on his thumb, he played with Theo’s hair, twirling the tufts of white around his fingers until they resembled swirly little spikes. Agi could see a braid here or there in Theo’s hair, and he knew Seishiro had been practising again, trying his best to take care of their son’s hair. Agi knew what was best because his hair was the same texture, but Seishiro insisted, desperately wanting to learn.
Similar to Agi, Seishiro simply wanted what was best for their son. He wanted to be a good father. To take care of him and make sure he was happy and healthy and had the best life. Seishiro could have taken the easy way out, and deferred hair care to Agi and his mother because Seishiro had little experience with textured hair, but he insisted, always open to learning.
Always wanting to play with their Dandelion’s hair because he needed to. He could not be a good father without being involved in what made their son unique.
The sight of them together like this always made Agi’s heart soar, and it was what made him not want to disturb. He wanted to be a part of this, sure, but the level of happiness he received from observing was more than he had felt during most of his life.
But always watching wasn’t always enough.
When watching made him sad, because he wanted to be in this perfect little picture of happiness, he would decide that he wanted to live in the moment.
Getting up from his seat on the opposite couch, he would join his family, wrapping an arm around his husband’s shoulders and placing a reminding hand on his son’s arm. Theo would remove his thumb from his mouth, looking bashful, but smiling up at Agi before returning to his movie, and Seishiro would lean against his side, resting his head on Agi’s shoulder, sighing in happiness that Agi was there.
Because Seishiro too was happy their life had turned out this way. That they were together, and that they had Theo, and that they were happy. Seishiro wanted him there too, living in the moment and making the most of every second, even if he needed to watch for a few minutes just to remind himself of his blessings, and for what reasons he woke up every morning.
Agi did not always want to be an observer in his own life, because he needed to live it. He needed to be with these two that made him so happy and that made life worth living.