A tall building, comprised of old brink and weathered stone, stands out among the upscale modernized homes and apartments of the surroundings. A young girl crossed the street with a puppy, and a gaggle of housewives shuffled past him on the sidewalk. Straining his ear, he could hear…

"Blonde hair? A delinquent?"

"Hm? No, did you see his face? A foreigner…"

"Really? He was so slender and tall…"

Cluck cluck cluck. His cheeks and ears turned rosy, and Andre pulled his coat tighter around him, the cold brushing the hair from his face. Japan was as beautiful as he remembered it, if colder. More empty.

He swallowed thickly, rubbing his hands together. He stares at the bouquet in his arms, bundles of Chrysanthemum wrapped in silk and bound with velvet ribbon. Stroking weeping petals, he glances back at the building.

This…is not the proper place for this. He nibbles his lip, shying away from the front steps. But he didn't know a better place to go. He hadn't seen him at the shrine, but maybe he should look up some more grave sites around town.

But this was a place where he lived. A place that felt…warm. So warm amongst the cold. His eyes burn, and he blinks fraught tears. He wonders if that room was as warm. He can't quite bring himself to go there. To see that room so bathed in light and joy…bereft.

Not the home economics room, not the sweet shop.

Just…here.

"Hey!"

He turned, and the street was obscured by a thin layer of fog. A man appeared from the gloom. A tall figure with short brown hair, dressed in a custodial uniform.

"Bonsoir–Konnichiwa!" he clears his throat, correcting himself shortly as he takes in the man. He's slightly shorter than him, with hair that barely grazes his ears. His posture is bent, his shoulders angled down. He looked taxed, exhaustion weighing him down.

The stranger tilts his head, scratching his chin before looking around "…Right. Uhhhh…Bonjour." he stumbles over the words, the phrase rolling around awkwardly around his accent.

Andre wondered if he'd sounded the same all those years ago. If he didn't still sound like that.

His Japanese was rusty, after all.

"I speak Japanese." he smiles timidly, bowing slightly in greeting. The other man's face floods with relief "Oh good!" his cheeks flush with embarrassment "Sorry about that. I'm Kenji, Kenji Tomochika." he rubs his chest, "I'm the custodian of this place." he points at the building.

Andre nods, his eyes rounding slightly, "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I getting in the way of your work?" he shuffles in place, the bouquet crushed against him.

"Huh? No, sorry. I just wanted to know if you needed some help." the man smiles a bit, putting his palms up. A lanyard swings around his neck, a collection of shiny keys next to his ID. "You've been here for a little while, you know?"

Andre looks about, the sun has sunk below the skyline, the cracks between buildings pooling with warm light as dim shadow stretchers across the neighborhood. He blinked, he hadn't realized how long it'd been.

"Oh…" he chuckles to himself, the cold of night settling into his bones. "I hadn't realized."

"Was there anything I could help with?" the man asks, offering a small smile. Andre stares at him a moment longer before looking back at the building.

Storming clouds churned overhead, and he sighed.

"I came here looking for a friend," he admits, a drizzle picking up as he looks down at the crumpled flowers in his hands. He should have taken better care of them.

He should have been here for a lot. Andre sniffled, wiping at his face with his sleeve.

"…ah…are you ok?" The custodian drifted closer, looking uncomfortable despite trying to help. For a moment his face melts into another, an echo of that place overlaying this lonely road.

He'd tried to comfort him too, during that time. He remembers how warm he'd been, so different from his usual cold demeanor.

Andre blinks back tears. "Je suis désolé…" he croaks. Why did he come back here?

"Huh? H-hey man…" The stranger shuffles a bit, looking about. He digs into his pockets, pulling out a small cloth and handing it to him. "I don't know what's wrong…but here."

Andre takes it gingerly, dabbing at his cheeks before taking it in. It's cute, a small homemade handkerchief and the border is worn blue. Andre eyes each flaw and mistake, seeing what was obviously the labors of an armature.

"It's beautiful." he folds it, handing it carefully back to the man, whose whole face has gone pink.

"Uh? T-thanks…I made it years ago." he smiles shyly. Then his expression sobers "Are you ok? I-I don't mean to pry or anything." he back peddles, his hands up in surrender.

The rain hisses against the windows, people run for shelter. A group of high schoolers rush past, and Andre is distracted. It's been so long since he's seen that uniform. His is at home, maybe he should have taken it with him.

"I…came to see a friend." he finds himself saying. It's a bit odd, he thinks. How strange one's own voice can sound. It feels like it's not even coming from him. "But…as soon as I've returned I learn he's…passed." he swallows around the lump in his throat.

"So…I…I don't really know what to do now." he shrugs his shoulders, looking down at the crumpled flowers. A spike of rage juts through his core for a moment, brilliant and white hot. He wants to crush the flowers, to shout and scream. Where had his grace gone?

What would he say if he could see him now?

"…" the janitor frowns, his brow creasing for a moment. "Uh, this might sound a bit odd but…would your friend be a Makoto Yuki?" the rain stains the concrete, pools of water appearing under their feet. The dampness seeps into his coat, but it's nothing to the frost running through his veins.

"Oui." he wraps, his nose is clogged. His arms wound around him in some feeble attempt to hide from the rain. Kenji's eyes dart up, his hair sticks to his forehead. "I see. Actually, you want to come inside?"

He shoots a quick smile "Hard to talk over the rain, you know?"

Andre stares. Then he nods.

* * *

It occurs to him that he's never actually been inside. It's not what he's expecting, but then he's not sure what he was expecting in the first place.

It's…empty for one. No furniture anywhere. "Do students not live in this dorm anymore?" he glances at Tomochika. The other man hopped the counter and rummaged down below. He pops back up quickly, holding two large fluffy towels in hand.

"Nope. This place shut down years ago." he hands one to Andre, who takes it, gingerly dying his head and hair. "I'm pretty sure it shut down about a year or two after he passed actually." he leaves his towel around his shoulders, "Hey wait a second, ok?" he doesn't wait for a reply, disappearing into the dorm.

Andre rakes a hand through his hair, strands like spun gold tangling in his fingers. He wonders what it looked like when he was alive. Was it lively and filled with the chatter of his dorm mates? Did they spend time together here? Did they share meals?

He fingers itched. He suddenly felt so jealous of people he'd never met before. He looks down at his feet, it's strange how grief can bring out the best and worst in people.

He remembers feeling so angry back then. Thinking his uncle was the most selfish man in the world. It's funny how the coin flips. He can understand the fretful desire he must have felt, the consuming want to have the people you love close after such a loss.

It's a bitter pill, but taking your medicine is important.

The custodian comes back over, he's got some chaired under one arm and a small plugin heater in the other. Andre stares a moment, then he shucks off his coat and goes to help the man set up.

* * *

He twirls his can, it's a cheap beer from a local store. But it does the work, it hurts a bit less under the buzz running through his gut, and the cold shies from the warmth brewing in his belly.

"You knew Makoto?" he mumbled, taking a swig as he tried to relax in his seat. The rain beat against the windows, the small heater drying his coat near his feet.

The custodian nodded, he was nursing his own drink. Staring at the windows wistfully before turning his attention to Andre "Yes, we were friends in high school. We were probably in the same year." he shakes his head, "Though I think I'd remember you…"

Andre hums "My Japanese was rougher back then, so I struggled to talk to a lot of people. The teachers and Makoto were patient though." his gaze grows distant, little sun spots of memory fluttering across his mind's eye. "Makoto once told me the other students thought I was a ghost. All because no one could read the note I put up outside the home economics room."

Kenji's brow furrows, and then his expression splits with surprise, recognition flaring in chocolaty eyes. "Oh! I remember that rumor, they said there were some kind of monsters in there…speaking in tongues." his eyebrows wiggle, and he makes a spooky motion with his hands.

Andre bites back a smile, "It was just French, I swear!"

The brunette man snorts to himself, "Right. OK, so you're looking for Makoto…and" the joy drains from his face, the small light snuffed out in a matter of seconds. Andre can't help but mourn it.

"So you heard?" he sounds so quiet. It occurs to Andre that while the power isn't on. The only light coming from the heater. Have the shadows always been so tall?

He swallowed, "Yeah." his hands were shaking, and he found himself holding his wrist to stifle the shaking. "The first place I went was the school." he shakes his head "I don't know why…there's no way he'd be there even i-f" his voice breaks, his mouth suddenly dry "Even if he were alive. It's been ages."

Kenji stares, then he nods. "Right. Most of his other friends have moved on from here." he pauses, "But they typically come by at least once." he leans back in his seat and hawks back a long draw "Been a while though."

Andre watches him "I see. I left early in the year due to my Aunties passing." he mumbles, looking at his boot. He can spy the other man from the curtain of his lashes. His throat bobs, and he stills in his seat.h

"Oh. That's shit."

Andre barks with laughter, "Sacrément raison!" his throat burns, his heart wracked with terrible tremors. He shakes his head "I tried really hard to convince him, and he even said yes!" he recalls how proud he'd felt at the time, how vindicated. So why did he throw it away?

"But didn't have the money in the end. My uncle was helping of course, and I'd taken up working–I was apprenticing with a seamstress." he'd been so ignorant back then. Of course, how could he know what was happening here after all? The cults, and the sickness rampant in the city. How could he foresee any of that?

"I'd stayed longer than I should have." he admits, his cheeks rosy, he drops his gaze, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes "I thought…I thought he'd be proud you know? If I could bring him something…beautiful! Something from my homeland that I made with my own hands." his wipes at his eyes, "But…b-but…" he shakes his head.

"How did he die?" he looks at the custodian now. Kenji is watching him, his expression clouded with gloom and regret. The man only shakes his head, "I don't know." he admits. "The year he died was…kinda fucked, you know?"

He didn't, and he was so sorry he didn't.

"But it happened so quickly after things were finally getting better too." he hangs his head, crushing the can in his fist as his tone turns bitter. "Just BAM! One morning it's graduation day, and the next second he's dead. Ambulances and police everywhere." his voice becomes cold, distant "I still remember seeing them cart him out. All that crying."

The man's eyes flutter rapidly, his eyes gleaming wetly as he turned away; hiding his face.

"It…it wasn't really the same after that," he admits, sniffling and rubbing at his jaw. He falls silent for a moment, then he looks at Andre "Did…did you manage to make something?"

Andre perks up a bit then, wiping away small tears, "Actually…yeah. I don't have it with me right now. It's at my hotel room. But…" he fishes around in his pockets pulling out his phone "I have some pictures. Would you like to see it?"

Kenji leans forward in his seat, nodding.

On the phone in a half-bust mannequin, draped in a beautiful silk shirt. It's bound in frills and lace, extravagant patterns woven with small pearls and ribbons. It's modern but also antiqued.

"You made that?" Kenji's voice is unticked by wonder, Andre has heard it many times before. It's a part of the joys of crafts, to see what you can create with your own two hands. He nods bashfully, "Yes, it took the better half of two years…much longer than it had with Makoto." he looks at the photo, every imperfection niggling at him. He's been told many times it was a beautiful work, that Makoto would surely be proud.

But–it doesn't matter now anyway. Andre will never know if it was good enough.

"With Makoto? Did you two make something together?" Kenji's voice echoes in the dark, pulling him from the past into the present. Desolation on desolation.

Andre can feel himself nod, "Right…it's here." he scrolls from picture to picture, memories given form flying past the screen until his most brilliant work takes its place. A traditional Japanese Kimono covered in decals of a cute familiar mascot…what was its name again?

"Isn't that the sweet shop mascot?" Kenji's peering over his phone. The other man is close now, his warmth pouring off him like a small flame. He smells like dust and alcohol. Andre probably smells like rain, he realizes.

"Oui–hai–we'd go there after club every day. A shared experience to make it more personal. It looks so small now, looking at it. Makoto had been able to fit it, but Andre had been too tall to wear it. "I'd wanted to show it to my aunt, as a representation of everything I'd learned from Japan." he sags a bit "Alas."

The shorter man looks at him, then at the phone. "I'm sorry man. I really am." he reaches out, tapping Andre's shoulder with his knuckles "But…if you asked me. I think Makoto would have loved it." he offers up a small smile "You know him, he like fancy stuff sometimes. He'd sometimes were this swanky ass peacoat on the weekend." he mimics putting a coat on "He had mad style."

Andre shuts his eyes, he can nearly see it in the space behind his eyelids "I hope so. We actually tried on a lot of clothes together. Dressing up was so fun!" he runs a hand through his hair "But I won't really have the opportunity to confirm anymore…so…"

"I don't see why you shouldn't show him anyway." he turns to look at the man across from him. Kenji has a kind look on his face, warm despite his sad smile.

"I mean, you know…even if the people we love leave us. They're still looking out right?" he looks away now, scratching his cheek. His face is flush and he won't look at Andre "T-that's what I like to think at least. Helps me get by in this big old place." he flicks his wrist, gesturing to the dorm as a whole.

Andre sniffles, swallowing thickly, "Oui…Tu as raison." he nods, wiping his eyes and knocking back the rest of his beer. "Pourquoi suis-je assis là ?" he crushes his can and makes to stand up.

Thunder BOOM's outside.

For a moment the entire dorm is bathed in light, it blinds him for a moment before the shadows encroach once again. The building shudders under the blow, the rain loud even from inside.

Kenji balks "Oh shit."

Andre looks at him, his buzz swiftly knocked out of him "I don't believe I can get back to my hotel in this…unless you have a car?" the custodian shakes his head, the shorter man grumbling before he too stands up "Uhh, you can stay here though. I can even take you to Makoto's grave tomorrow."

Andre blinks, then he smiles tiredly "Thanks. I'd like that. Uh…are there blankets around here? Food?"

Kenji nods "You're in luck. I'll go get some stuff right now."