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“Honey, I’m home!”
The bell above the café’s door jingled joyfully in the quiet atmosphere the evening gave to the place. Below it, a curly haired man hurried in, hiding away from the biting cold of the Tokyo winter. On the counter, two figures awaited his arrival.
“Welcome back.” One of them said, his tone as honey-like as his hair color, though a little mocking under all the sweetness. The man smiled at him first, approaching them both as he took off his coat.
“You are still doing that after all these years?” The second asked, equal parts as amused as he was tired.
To that, the curly haired man let out a hearty laugh.
“It will never get old, boss.” he replied, and his companion —who sat at the bar— smiled with him as they shared a conspiratorial look.
“You should know better than to ask at this point, Sojiro-san.”
Sojiro sighed good-naturedly, as he began brewing a coffee for the newcomer. His older hands moved artfully between the different pots and cups, after many years of perfecting his technique. It was hypnotizing to look at.
“Akechi, how many times do I have to tell you to call me boss?” He wondered out loud, though he knew the young man sitting at the bar would not listen, he had never listened. “You have been dating Akira for years now, a bit of familiarity won’t kill you.”
“I respect you too much to call you anything but Sojiro-san.” Akechi responded, as he always did, to Sojiro’s question.
Akira chuckled at their now customary banter and quickly leaned to kiss Akechi on the cheek. Akechi shivered at the contact with his cold skin.
“Akira, you are freezing.”
“Sorry, I ended up taking longer than I expected in my errands.”
He left his overcoat and his scarf on the seat next to his boyfriend and quickly made his way behind the bar.
“Luckily, you weren’t much needed here.” Akechi commented with a calculated nonchalance that spelled maliciousness. “After all, the café has been this empty for a couple of hours now.”
“Hey, I resent that.” Sojiro mumbled under his breath, but, soon enough, he was handing both young men a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
“No, you don’t.” Akira laughed behind his steaming mug and thanked Sojiro with a gesture when he caught his eye. “You like the quiet of these kinds of days.”
“That I do.” He relented. A furtive smile sneaked up on his face as he responded, something that did not go unnoticed by the younger men. It had been many years now, and they all knew each other well.
For a moment, nobody talked, as the cups of coffee got gradually more and more empty and the last rays of sunlight reflected off of the glass door at the entrance of the café. From his position behind the counter, Akira looked at two of the most important people in his life, who gathered in this place today, and wondered how he ended up being so lucky despite the bad hand he’d been given in life.
“Well—” From his position, leaning on the counter to rest his old legs, Sojiro cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t just want me to cover for you today, so spill it. What has been eating at you?”
Startled, Akira and Akechi turned toward the man. Akira instinctively carded his hands through his curly hair, playing with the one strand that hung longer over his forehead. Akechi, on the other side of the counter, hid his expression behind his mug.
“What gave it away?” Akira spoke first, his voice somewhat shy.
“Kid, I have known you for about ten years now, I can read the cues.”
Akira sent Sojiro a smile but didn’t say anything else. His hand still played with the strand of hair as he searched for the words to continue.
“It is true that we have… something on our minds, have had, for a while.” Akechi came in, saving Akira from his sudden loss of words.
“Out with it, then.” Sojiro insisted, though his voice was gentle. He was willing to be patient with them.
Akira sighed and squared his shoulders, it was now or never, and Sojiro was right that they had decided on today to talk about this with the man who was, in all aspects but official, Akira’s father.
“Goro and I have been thinking of…” He sent a side-eyed look to his partner, who was squeezing his hands together out of nervousness. “Becoming a foster home.”
Sojiro’s eyebrows shot up to his scalp. He probably had not expected to hear that from them. Nobody would have, knowing how busy their lives were, and how complex their relationship was with parenthood. In a sudden burst of alarm, Goro slammed his hands on top of the counter before Sojiro had the time to react further.
“It’s not like that, exactly.” He began as he retrieved his hands from the counter, no doubt self-conscious about his reaction. “We are considering our options, and we were wondering… How come you ended up becoming Akira’s guardian all those years ago?”
Sojiro’s face relaxed from his initial shock into a knowing smile.
“Ah… I see.” He chuckled. “You scared me! For one second I thought you were going to make me a grandfather so young!”
“You’re not that young.” Akira commented under his breath, though, intentionally, just loud enough that Sojiro still heard him.
“Now, kid—”
“Sorry, sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender as both Sojiro and Goro gave him a look. Somehow the years in close contact had made it look exactly the same on both men. Akira tried not to let that affect him too much, but he did feel his heart clench painfully in his chest nonetheless. “Goro is right, parenthood is still a bit intimidating for both of us, but becoming some teen’s guardians like you did felt like… a happy medium?”
Goro nodded, satisfied with his apology and explanation. Sojiro hummed to himself, considering Akira’s question carefully.
“The only thing I had to do was talk to an agency.” He finally said, matter-of-factly. “It was a really simple process, they came to this place and made sure there was a bed, a bathroom and a door that could be locked.” He then shrugged.
Though the action had been nonchalant, there was a certain resentment in the way he had said it. A resentment that he could see reflected clearly on Goro’s face, which rested in a moue of disgust.
“That’s all they asked for?” he said. His voice was slow and monotone. After his years studying law and then social studies, he still felt it within himself to be disappointed by the Japanese establishment.
Next to him, Akira slowly placed his hand on his partner’s arm in a placating gesture. He had been genuinely thankful for having lived in Leblanc during his probation, but age had taught him that his conditions hadn’t been nearly as good as they should have. He did not resent Sojiro, though. He knew the man was short on money and had done as much as he could with what he had.
“This is why we are doing this.” he addressed both of them, who turned to look at him in various degrees of anger. “We will make sure whoever comes will be comfortable and safe.”
“I trust you will, kid.” Sojiro nodded, solemn. “I can give you the name of the agency before you go, it was one of the better ones.”
“Thank you, Sojiro-san.” Goro sighed, willing the anger that had accumulated in the last few minutes to leave his body. “Though, that is not the only thing we wanted to tell you.”
To Sojiro’s noise of inquiry, Akira exclaimed. “Oh, right!” And turned back towards his former guardian, face serious. The sight did nothing to calm Sojiro’s worries.
“Remember how we remodeled the attic a few months ago?” Akira began, and suddenly Sojiro knew exactly where the conversation was going. “We were wondering if we could make this place the potential foster home?”
There was a doubtful tone in his voice as he finished talking. His hand was now gripping Akechi’s arm as he looked at Sojiro’s face, trying to ascertain what the older man was feeling about his request.
Sojiro rubbed his chin with his thumb and index, a gesture Akira had seen Goro do many times before. They really had spent too much time together lately, they were acquiring each others’ mannerisms. Akira mentally vowed to join their chess nights more often.
“I don’t see why that would be a problem.” Sojiro said with finality. “You lived well enough here when the attic looked like trash. Now that it is a proper room with its own door it will be a good space for a teen to live in for a bit.”
“So, is that a yes?” Akira felt his eyes begin watering behind his glasses. He had promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but it was going to be hard, holding it all in. He felt a warm squeeze on the hand in Goro’s arm and sent a thankful look towards his partner, who was still looking at Sojiro intently.
“Only if it’s you who takes care of the kid.”
“Of course!”
Akira felt a smile take over his face as he wrapped his arms around the older man, squeezing him in a tight embrace.
“Thank you, dad.”
From the counter, Goro could spy Sojiro surreptitiously trying to rub his suspiciously moist eyes. The scene in front of him endeared him to no end, but despite the joy that permeated the café, he could still feel a heavy weight settling uncomfortably on his stomach. He decided to say nothing if only to let the mood be light and happy.
They talked some more about the logistics of how they were going to do it, but soon enough, him and Akira were leaving through the front door, bowls of curry still warm in their hands.
“I can’t believe it went as well as it did.” Akira sighed into the cold, late winter air. Goro elbowed his side lightly.
“I told you it would be fine.”
“So you did.” Akira turned toward him, eyes full of mirth and a love so intense Goro had to look away for a second, overwhelmed.
A comfortable silence fell over them as they walked the short way to their home from the café. They had been lucky when they found the flat. It had belonged to an old woman who had passed away a couple of years ago, and all her children lived outside the city, so they had no interest in keeping it any longer. It was not very big, and the building where it was located was kind of old, but it was theirs, and they loved it.
After a couple of minutes of walking, where the only sound was their breathing and their heavy boots squashing the little snow that still remained, Akira cleared his throat to bring Goro’s attention to him.
“How are you feeling, honey?”
Goro took some time to respond. Ever since the topic had been broached in Leblanc, that annoying ball of anxiety had not left his chest, compressing his organs painfully at the thought of having such a young life in his charge. His mother had taken her life at the same age he was considering starting a family. That felt momentous, in some sort of way, both awfully wrong and absolutely perfect in its timing. It had not been the first time Akira had brought up the idea of expanding their family, but it had been the first time his proposal hadn’t made Akechi want to run to the bathroom and throw up.
When Akira had described their idea as a happy medium he had been completely right. Goro could still remember the many sleepless nights they had both spent the first time Akira had mentioned that he wanted to have kids. Despite his grievances about it, Akira had found a good therapist who had helped him sort out and overcome many of his issues with his biological parents.
Goro hadn’t.
His issues were still the same they had been years ago, though he now was old and wise enough to recognize them as they were.
The arguments they’d had about the topics had lasted weeks. Akira had left to sleep in Leblanc’s attic more than once during that time. They were both too reluctant to say that the renovations of the place had not only been for the welcoming of a new foster kid. There were times, even, when Goro wondered if that was going to be the thing that broke them apart for good.
So, in the end, Akira’s great idea of becoming guardians of some teen with bad luck in life had really been a lifesaver for both of them, a true happy medium.
Those things and more ran through his mind at miles per hour when he felt Akira’s hand interlace with his, bringing him back to earth.
“Goro?”
Goro stopped in his tracks and, after he made sure there was nobody on the street this late in the evening, drew Akira closer and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips.
“Sorry, I’m okay.” This close to his face, Goro saw how Akira’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly. “I promise.”
“I know you can get overwhelmed by this topic.” Akira punctuated his sentence with yet another peck. Goro felt like that was enough PDA for the day and took one step away from his partner’s warmth —though he didn’t dare untangle their hands.
“I told you I’m fine.” He huffed and swiftly began to walk again, their home mere feet away from them already.
“Okay, I just want you to be comfortable with this decision.” Akira followed him seamlessly. They had danced this dance for many years already, and yet, these bouts of coordination still made Goro’s heart flutter in his chest.
As they arrived at the entrance and Goro took out the keys to their apartment, Akira spoke again.
“I think it’s going to be okay, in the end.”
Goro squeezed his hand one last time before letting go of him and opening the door to their warm, cozy home.
“You know? I think… I think so, too.”