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One week.
There was just one week left before graduation, before the end of what Ichiro had always known as normal. Seeing Samatoki every day, walking to school with him every day, having lunch with him every day—all that was soon to end.
Ichiro and Samatoki had always gone to the same school. They'd even been lucky enough to always end up in the same class, and to always get work at the same part-time jobs.
But after graduation, there would be no more school. Neither of them were planning to go on to college, and Samatoki had a job lined up.
A real job.
A job that would take him all the way out to Yokohama.
When the offer first came in, Ichiro had been the one to encourage Samatoki to accept. It was a good opportunity, one that Samatoki absolutely couldn't pass up. A game studio—a proper studio, not some shady little company with shady intentions—wanted to hire him to their art team straight out of high school.
"How many kids do you think dream of an opportunity like this?" Ichiro had asked, when Samatoki hesitated to accept. "It's the start of the rest of your life, Samatoki. You'd be a fool to turn it down."
It was obvious to them both that there was only one thing holding Samatoki back.
"The start of the rest of my life," Samatoki had echoed dully. "But what about our life, Ichi?"
They'd had plans. To work together, to start a business together. Not right away, not right after graduation. But eventually, after spending some more time working, saving up. It wasn't just a distant, hazy dream for them—they'd made real plans, and had even gone so far as to talk to a bank about a loan to get them started one day.
But the security of an office job, a steady salary, was something Ichiro couldn't let Samatoki pass up.
"Think of Nemu," Ichiro had said in the end.
"Our plan—"
"We would've been successful, financially stable, someday. But we always worried, we both did, that we wouldn't get there in time to help Jiro and Nemu with their college tuition. This way, you don't have to worry. You can send her to any school she wants."
They'd fought about it again and again in the following weeks, but ultimately Samatoki had had to admit Ichiro was right. It was an opportunity he couldn't turn down.
"It's not like we'll never see each other again," Ichiro had reasoned. "Yokohama's not a world away."
"May as well be," Samatoki muttered.
But he accepted the offer. It was the only choice he could have made.
In the weeks since, Ichiro had done his best to stay positive, to be nothing but happy for Samatoki. He was happy for Samatoki, of course he was. But maybe, knowing how soon everything would change…
"What's on your mind?" Samatoki whispered one night.
He'd been sleeping over at Ichiro's place more often these days, and Ichiro hadn't even bothered laying out the guest futon. They squeezed into his bed together, like they had as kids. It was almost too tight a fit now, but neither of them seemed to mind the close proximity, as if sticking as close together as they could now would make their inevitable parting any easier.
Ichiro considered brushing off the question, considered saying it was nothing at all. But they'd never been in a habit of lying to each other, and that was one thing he didn't want to start now.
"I'm just a little scared," he admitted, shuffling even closer, stealing into Samatoki's arms. "I meant everything I said. That this is a brilliant opportunity, that I'm happy for you. It's just… going to be a big change."
Samatoki had decided against moving out to Yokohama, but that meant a long commute. No matter what, Ichiro would be seeing less of him. A lot, lot less of him.
"I already miss you," Ichiro murmured. "It's stupid, I know, but I do. I think about all the time you'll be gone. Working, commuting, overtime, drinking parties… maybe you'll even meet someone."
Samatoki didn't interrupt, didn't laugh, didn't write off Ichiro's worries as absurd. Ichiro had known he wouldn't, even if his worries were absurd.
He felt a bit better, just saying it all out loud. It didn't change anything, didn't make any of this easier, but feeling Samatoki hold him a little closer as he spoke reminded him that no matter how things changed, they had something that would never break.
Ichiro was just about to say that, that he was already feeling more at ease, when Samatoki shifted all of a sudden. Nudging him onto his back, rolling to loom over him, brushing Ichiro's cheek with one hand.
Their eyes met in the near-dark, Samatoki's so heavy with affection that Ichiro's breath hitched in his throat.
"We should get married."
That hitch turned into a proper choke, a surprised, disbelieving laugh. Ichiro stared up at Samatoki, until he was sure he hadn't misheard. Until he was sure Samatoki's expression, earnest and resolute, wouldn't change.
"You're serious," Ichiro whispered.
"I am."
"We're… not even dating. You've never even kissed me."
Samatoki hummed. He dipped a little lower, until their noses brushed. "Did you ever question it, Ichi?"
Ichiro made a faint, inquisitive noise. It was all he could manage, with Samatoki's breath so hot against his lips.
"Did you ever think we wouldn't spend the rest of our lives together?"
"No," Ichiro admitted, without having to pause. He could hardly remember a time when Samatoki hadn't been a part of his life, and certainly couldn't imagine a future without him. "I never did."
"Me neither." Samatoki smiled as he trailed his fingers down the column of Ichiro's throat, feeling Ichiro swallow. "Never thought about being without you, and never thought I'd hear you say some stupid shit about me 'meeting' someone."
"I—"
"Never wanna hear you say anything like that again," Samatoki continued. "So, we should get married."
Ichiro was breathless by then, too gone to even laugh. But a smile to answer Samatoki's had found his lips, as his disbelief turned into a pure, giddy bubble of joy.
"You're ridiculous," Ichiro said, while sliding his arms around Samatoki, lacing his hands together at the dip between his shoulder blades and holding on like he would never let go again. "You couldn't just say you aren't interested in meeting anyone else, couldn't just ask me out. You had to ask me to marry you?"
"You aren't saying no," Samatoki pointed out.
"Of course not."
Their lips brushed, then. It could hardly be called a kiss, really. Just a soft, barely-there touch. A bump, a nuzzle.
"So… you're saying…?"
Ichiro smiled against Samatoki's lips and whispered the answer they'd both known he would give.
Maybe, just maybe, he was just a little ridiculous too.