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The orange flames flickered and danced in the fireplace, casting a warm, soft glow over the newly carpeted living room. Haro was fast asleep in front of the fireplace, his tiny paws twitching and jerking every so often. Akai wondered if the little white dog (what kind of breed was Haro, anyway?) was dreaming about chasing cats or squirrels. Then he wondered how often dogs actually caught anything in their dreams.
He decided to voice that last thought out loud to Rei, who was sitting beside him on the worn-down couch, his head resting on his shoulder as he traced small circles on the back of Akai's hand. "Do you suppose Haro ever catches anything in his dreams?"
"Hmm. Well, I'm afraid your guess is as good as mine," Rei murmured. "I've tried to ask him a few times, but he's been very secretive about it for some reason. However, seeing as he's still dreaming about chasing squirrels, I'm going to deduce that the answer is no."
"Or perhaps he has already caught a squirrel and has simply set his sights on another one."
Rei chuckled, and Akai felt a light tickle as his husband turned to tuck his face into his neck. "Well, as long as he isn't after the celery plants again, I don't care how many squirrels he chases."
Outside the window, a breeze was blowing through the trees, their branches swaying back and forth in the early autumn wind. Akai knew it would only be a few weeks before the trees all over Japan shed their green leaves for coats of red, yellow, orange, and gold. A few of the ones in the neighborhood had gotten an early start on the new season, and just a couple of days ago, he had watched as their neighbor's eight-year-old twins jumped in a large pile of leaves, shrieking and laughing with sheer delight all the while.
Akai had hundreds, if not thousands, of fond memories of autumn days from his childhood. He remembered dressing up in his beanie and baby blue down jacket, riding on his father's shoulders as they walked around the park. He remembered using a maple leaf to tickle his new baby brother's nose. He remembered trekking to school on his first day of kindergarten, lugging his favorite stuffed penguin and a backpack that was bigger than he was. He remembered the afternoons spent jumping out of piles of leaves to scare Shukichi and then running away knowing that his brother had no hope of catching him because Shukichi had never been athletically gifted. He remembered watching his father bake his famous apple pie, and he remembered sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night with Shukichi to sneak just one extra slice.
Of course, it was never only one extra slice, and soon, Tsutomu had to learn to bake at least two pies because Akai and Shukichi were inevitably going to devour the first one.
Later, after he had joined the FBI, he had been too busy to enjoy the simple pleasures of autumn anymore. Granted, there had been the annual bureau Halloween party, and he had enjoyed the occasional mug of apple cider at Jodie's apartment, but he had been too focused on his mission to fully appreciate all of it.
Perhaps it would have been easier when he was pretending to go out with Akemi, but Dai Moroboshi was supposed to be cool, calculating, and aloof, certainly not the type of man who would be the least bit interested in watching a few trees change color.
This year, however, things were finally different. His life was more peaceful than he could remember it being in years, and for the first time, Akai found that he could actually sit back and welcome in the new season. Those fleeting moments of respite had become a permanent reality, or at least as permanent as reality ever truly could be. There were no targets waiting to be shot down, there were no more evenings spent checking every lock in the house, ensuring that no one would be able to force their way in, and there were no more nights of waking up in a cold sweat, reliving the last moments of his loved ones as he failed to save them time and time again. There was only his new home, the pet dog that he had acquired as part of his marriage, and the man he loved more than life itself.
And now that he wasn't alone, for the first time, he found that he wanted to find a way to enjoy autumn again.
"Say, Rei? What do you think about carving a pumpkin this year?"
Rei hummed thoughtfully. "Carving a pumpkin, huh? What brought that idea on?"
"Oh, nothing much," Akai chuckled. "I suppose I'm just feeling nostalgic."
"Ah." Rei turned to look up at him, a teasing smirk spreading across his face. "So, what you're saying is that you're feeling old."
He snorted. "I'm not that old."
"I hate to break it to you, Shuichi, but only old people talk about feeling nostalgic."
"Is that how it is?"
"I'm afraid so," Rei informed him with a tone of mock solemnity. "Mark my words, this time next year, you'll be sitting in a rickety old rocking chair, reading a book or telling a few children about the games you used to play with your friends when you were just but a wee little lad like them."
Akai felt his mouth twitch into an amused smile. "Ah, but did you ever consider the possibility that I might become the cranky old man neighbor instead?"
"The one that chases kids with his walking stick for accidentally kicking their soccer ball into his yard?"
"Also, I might have a curse or two up my sleeve if they don't get their damn shoes off my lawn."
They laughed heartily at that, and Akai pressed a soft kiss onto Rei's forehead. In response, Rei pulled him back in and pressed his lips to his as if to say, "If you're going to kiss me, then you'd better do it right."
And he responded in kind because the man in his arms was everything he had ever wanted and more. Rei made him feel more fulfilled and at peace than he had ever felt before in his life, and just getting to see him every morning was the highlight of his day. Akai didn't know how his life would have turned out if he and Rei hadn't gotten together, but he was certain that it wouldn't be nearly as good as it was now.
Rei was everything to him, and he truly couldn't imagine his life without him by his side. There were many more years to come, true, but Akai could already picture them forty years from now, sitting in their matching rocking chairs, sipping from cups of tea while shaking their heads at the stories in the newspaper and remarking on the ever-changing nature of the world. He wondered if they would have a dog or a cat to keep them company, or perhaps they would be the elderly neighbors that the children loved to visit on weekends for hot chocolate and stories.
He was starting to realize that he sounded just like those lovesick idiots in cheesy romance movies. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care too much.
"About those pumpkins, do you think we should carve one or two?" Rei asked, intertwining their fingers together, his blue eyes soft and warm as he looked up at him.
"Hmm...how about we carve three, and then Haro can have one too?" Akai suggested.
"I hate to break it to you, but as smart as he can be, I don't think he knows how to carve a pumpkin."
He grinned. "Don't be too sure about that. That dog is full of surprises."
"While you're undoubtedly correct about that, I don't believe artistry is one of them," Rei deadpanned.
"Yet."
"What?"
"Artistry isn't one of them yet."
Rei rolled his eyes, turning to tuck his face into his neck again. "Don't get any funny ideas here. We don't need Haro trying to become the next Murakami."
"Wouldn't Nishioka or Unkei be a more apt comparison in this case?" Akai questioned.
"Perhaps, but they're all artists, so the point still stands."
A steady drizzle had begun to fall outside, pattering against the window. Akai felt his eyelids grow heavy as his gaze fell on the simple black band adorning his left ring finger. When he and Rei had gotten married, they had ultimately decided that they didn't want their rings to be flashy or secret hidden weapons (admittedly, however, that would have been exciting). They didn't need wedding bands encrusted with diamonds or gold.
All they needed was something that was enough to say, "I'm yours."
Haro's paws twitched and jerked a few more times as he whined in his sleep. Apparently, he still hadn't caught that squirrel yet.
Akai silently wished the little dog the best of luck as he rested his head on top of Rei's, allowing a wave of sleep to blanket his mind at last.