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Tohma has no regrets.
Of course, there are things he could have done differently, perhaps even things he might have done that would have led to a different end result. However, considering everything he has done, everything he has accomplished, there is nothing he would change about his past, not if it changed the present.
Even if certain parts of the present are painful to accept.
Ever since he lost his mother and was thrust into a new and unfamiliar life, he's always had something to strive for. His father's acceptance was first, and then, when he gave up on ever achieving that, he devoted himself to making his sister healthy and happy. Now he is cured, and even his father has accepted him, and he has nothing else left to hope for.
Without distractions, he is now left unable to distract himself any longer from the fact that Masaru is still not back.
Tohma has no regrets, but that doesn't mean he isn't sometimes wistful, wondering if things could have gone differently after all, if he could have said or done something to convince Masaru not to leave. Of course, it's impossible and he knows it, nothing could ever change Masaru's mind once he had it set on something, but sometimes when he sits in his far too quiet study and looks out of the window into the darkening night it's easy to dream the impossible.
Masaru would call him an idiot if he knew, of course, or would accuse him of thinking too much as always, and then drag him on some harebrained adventure or another, if not just starting a fight to distract him. Masaru always was good at getting his attention, for better or worse. Now he even has it even though they aren't even in the same dimension anymore.
For some time he wonders why he can't just forget, why he can't let go and move on instead of dreaming about a former friend. Then he realises it's not just about a friend, not even just about a former partner. The realisation comes around when someone asks him out, a young woman with all the intelligence and confidence and courage he could ever hope for in a lover, and he catches himself thinking about how she's nothing like Masaru.
Well. That would have been nice to understand quite a few years back, not that it would have made any difference in anything.
It seems as though his personal little revelation has triggered everyone else to bring up the subject, or perhaps it's because he's going to be in his twenties soon and hasn't shown any particular interest in anyone. Even his father is starting to drop hints about this wonderful daughter of an acquaintance being in town or this beautiful heir of a business contact needing an escort for an event, oblivious to the way Tohma keeps slipping out of any such obligations. He suspects it has something to do with his research, and how he has been concentrating on it for years. His father probably thought that was his only reason for not dating, not wanting such frivolities to get in the way of curing his sister.
In reality, the fact is that the only one he would like to go out with is on the other side of the gate.
He's an idiot and he doesn't even need Masaru to tell him that, not that he'd hesitate to make it very clear if he was there. Of all the people he could have fallen for, it's the one who'd probably respond to such a confession with a fist to the face. He has dreams about it sometimes, about how Masaru returns and Tohma tells him and Masaru turns right around, disappearing through the gate once more before he can get another word out. Obviously, even his own subconsciousness thinks he's an idiot.
Of course, none of that matters. Not since Masaru isn't here, so Tohma can't ever tell him one way or another.
As time drags on the longing starts to get mixed with anger, anger and bitterness. It's all good and well for Masaru to disappear without any knowledge of when he can get back if he ever can, leaving behind his family and friends without so much as a backward glance for the sake of a selfish little adventure. He gets to travel through a miraculous world filled with friends and foes and endless wonders, while everyone else is stuck back in the normal world, missing him.
Tohma knows he's not the only one, either. Masaru's family are good at hiding it, but he knows they miss him every day. His father put on a brave face when Masaru first left, yet it can't be easy on him, seeing his son disappear just as he has returned. Chika misses him too, misses and needs him, she's growing up and needs her big brother there to look after her and make her happy, except Masaru isn't there and somehow Tohma ends up with two little sisters to look after, two little sisters and Ikuto besides. It's not that he doesn't like doing it, but it's really not his job, it should be Masaru ruffling her hair and listening to her woes even though he has no idea what to say. It should also be Masaru sitting at the dinner table instead of Tohma when he is invited over more often than not, and even though Masaru's father does his best they can never finish all the egg rolls Sayuri makes.
Of course, he still keeps in touch with all the others, and thus he hears very soon when they start picking up new signals, faint at first but clear indications nevertheless. He is also there when they first prepare to try opening the gate again, ignoring the icy cold claws digging into his heart, the claws of doubt and fear and anger and deep, deep longing, expression schooled into one of perfectly calm scientific enquiry.
As they launch the gate, nothing happens for a moment. Then, just as they start to wonder if they haven't made a mistake, if the signals are still too weak, there is the faint figure of someone materialising before their eyes.
Masaru stumbles out of the gate, followed by a very familiar orange dinosaur and then a blue dog, yet Tohma doesn't even notice them at first. All he can focus on is Masaru, even taller and stronger than before, his eyes sparkling as usual, a grin on his face as he looks at Tohma.
"Hi." That's all he says, all he gives after years and years of waiting.
Tohma doesn't even pause before punching him in the face.
Masaru staggers back and Tohma stares at him, trying to find an explanation but unable to come up with any. He feels drained all of a sudden, all his anger and longing and bitterness thrown into the punch, all the love he couldn't ever dare to put into words, the love that has given him so many sleepless nights and lonely afternoons and countless days spent wondering whether he's ever going to even see Masaru again.
Masaru grins at him, then, and speaks, his voice oddly rough but still painfully familiar. "Yeah, me too." And then he's drawn into a pair of strong arms, holding him close, so close he wonders if he'll ever breathe again, not sure if he'll care if he does. Masaru is here and that's what matters, the others staring at them doesn't matter, even Gaomon tugging at him can wait for another minute or two.
"Me too," Masaru says again, his voice a mere murmur close to Tohma's ear, and Tohma lets his head fall against Masaru's shoulder.
No regrets.
Nothing he would wish to change.