Chapter Text
Yudai was no stranger to the idea of soulmates. It was hard to be - he grew up hearing all about it, how each and every one has someone meant for them, the destined one who perfectly matches them, and the moment you first set eyes on each other you know , you can immediately feel the connection.
It was mildly fascinating, Yudai would have to agree, but it wasn’t like he was waiting on bated breath to meet his soulmate, though he wasn’t strongly opposed to the idea either. To him, it was just a fact of life, like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west - there was no reason for him to think about it as he went about his life, not when there were so many more important things to focus on. So he chased passions and gave them up for a realistic career as a salaryman, made friends and lost touch with friends, fell in love and got his heart broken. He knew he would meet the one someday, and naturally, he was curious how that moment would feel, but those flickering thoughts stayed somewhere in the back of his mind; he would cross that bridge when he reached it, and even if he never did, he would live a happy life.
But when his eyes met Fuma’s, he finally understood why people were always raving about this. It was cliché, the way time seemed to stop and his heart thudded against his ribs, his brain empty of any thought except the man in front of him. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks, but he would swear to anyone who asked that he could feel his brain chemistry changing. For a moment, he felt himself soaring weightless in the ether, with no gravity to pull him down and no earth to fall back on, held up by pure euphoria. In that moment, in that one, singular moment, he felt himself dreaming of things he had only vaguely thought about before, found himself, rather ridiculously, imagining a future with this complete stranger, and thinking that maybe, just maybe, he can get behind it.
“No…”
The voice was muddled in his head, growing clearer as his mind refocused on reality, like he had just surfaced out of water.
“This cannot be happening,” the man said, a look of abject horror on his face, and the fantasy of the moment shattered.
Fuma, as it turned out, was one of the people who vehemently opposed the very concept of soulmates. He had barely believed they existed, even doubting the lived experience of millions upon millions of people - that was until he got to experience it himself. But even so, even after looking into Yudai’s eyes and feeling the same things he had felt, Fuma stubbornly refused to accept his fate.
“It’s a violation of our free will,” he cribbed, the words practiced with how often he had repeated them. “Fate or destiny doesn’t decide who we love, we do.”
And Fuma had already decided, as Yudai found out. Fuma was in a committed relationship for three years, and made it very clear that he was not willing to throw that away for “some destined soulmate bullshit,” as he put it. The rejection stung a little, bruising his ego more than anything, but frankly, Yudai understood. Fuma had already found love, spent years nurturing a relationship, and soulmates or not, it made no sense to choose a complete stranger over the life he was already building with someone. As someone who had punched his sister’s ex in the face for unceremoniously dumping her after finding his soulmate, Yudai couldn’t help but respect Fuma for sticking by his partner’s side.
“It doesn’t need to be romantic,” Yudai suggested when Fuma insisted they should just pretend this never happened. “Some soulmate pairs are purely platonic - we could be like that.” The connection had already been formed, after all, and fighting the instinct to be close to each other would only act as an unnecessary inconvenience. It only made sense to find a solution that wouldn’t cause harm to either of them.
Fuma was unconvinced. “That’s just asking for trouble. What if you end up wanting more?”
Yudai scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Trust me, I don’t go for taken men.”
It was true, at that time. Fuma was a stranger; Yudai felt nothing for him and had no desire to initiate anything more. The itch under his skin whenever they were away from each other was bothersome if anything, but as long as it could be sated easily by brief meetups to get coffee before work, or a stroll in the evening after, or drinks on the occasional Friday, Yudai had no complaints. He could only assume that Fuma didn’t either.
Yudai didn’t feel strongly about the idea of soulmates or destiny, but he had to admit the universe knew what it was doing. It was incredibly easy to like Fuma, and even easier to fall into step beside him in a comfortable friendship. He could see the ways in which they complemented each other, the way their jokes played off each other, and how they could capture each other in ways no one else could.
“Are you sure it’ll work out?” Euijoo asked skeptically, his soulmate and boyfriend of five years, Nicholas, chewing on his sandwich anxiously beside him as Yudai told them about his eventful week. “Being just friends?”
Yudai just shrugged. “There’s no reason it shouldn’t.”
“What if you end up catching feelings?” Nicholas prodded, concerned. “I mean, the universe thinks you’re meant for each other. He’s being bullheaded about it, but falling in love might be inevitable.”
Euijoo shoved him lightly, telling him to behave, but Yudai just laughed. Nicholas, an ardent believer in soulmates and a man who was head over heels for his own at first sight, would of course have the complete opposite perspective as Fuma’s.
“If it’s inevitable, then wouldn’t we both fall?” Yudai asked in return, shrugging. “And if it isn’t, neither of us will. It will be fine as long as we’re on the same page.”
Euijoo raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was a perk of working together for a long time, but Yudai could see what he was thinking though he didn’t say a word. They both knew that the truth was somewhere in the middle, bringing with it the possibility of them not ending up on the same page and all the heartbreak that would follow, but that wasn’t a conversation Yudai was keen to have. If everything went the way he wanted it to, it would never matter anyway.
Yudai was a pragmatic man, and he knew how to balance his needs with the reality he was offered. He couldn’t deny that in other circumstances, he would’ve wanted to date Fuma. They would make a good couple, too, Yudai thought. But thinking about that was a waste of his time and energy when Ai was in the picture.
He had been introduced to Fuma’s partner within two days of meeting the man himself, something that had taken even him by surprise. The circumstances were awkward, to say the least, but Ai had been nothing but warm, welcoming him into their home easily.
“I lost my soulmate when we were eighteen,” she mentioned wistfully as they finished dinner, and all Yudai could do was offer hesitant condolences, glancing between her and Fuma. Ai shook her head, an easy smile on her face. “I don’t think I’m someone deserving of condolences, to be honest. We never really had a chance to know each other well, you know? Loving each other was still a long way away…”
Yudai hummed thoughtfully. “But you did mourn someone, and the possibilities he represented, the future you may have had with him… You do deserve condolences for that.”
Ai shrugged, chuckling. “That makes sense, I guess, but I don’t really think about it much. We were too young to see that far ahead anyway.”
Fuma shook his head, throwing a reproachful glance at Yudai. “So-called fate doesn’t decide the love we give or receive, we do,” he repeated, and this time Yudai could see where this insistence came from. “In the end, it’s the choices we make that determine the life we lead.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Yudai said dryly, raising his wine glass, and Fuma clinked it with his, chuckling.
In the end, it didn’t matter if they were chosen for each other by fate, or if they would make a good couple given the right circumstances. Yudai could see the love in Fuma’s eyes as he looked at Ai, as well as the happiness and contentment he felt with her. In their real circumstances, Yudai and Fuma could be nothing more than friends, and contrary to his friends’ fears, Yudai could make his peace with that. Cherishing Fuma as a friend was better than making himself miserable vying for what he couldn’t have.
But all too soon, the cracks started to show in his perfect pragmatic solution. Suddenly, just the ten odd minutes spent getting coffee or taking a stroll started to feel… not enough. Yudai started calling Fuma every few hours, often hanging out multiple times a day. At first he feared it was just him getting too attached, becoming too clingy, but he could see on Fuma’s face how difficult it was to say goodbye for him as well now.
“A soulmate thing, isn’t it?” Yudai said wearily, and Fuma simply sighed. It’s not like spending time together was a burden - they enjoyed each other’s company, a lot, but Yudai would’ve preferred to not feel like he was in withdrawal every time they didn’t talk for a day or two.
Ai was understanding. Often, she was there with Fuma while they hung out, and while Yudai was glad his existence wasn’t cutting into the time they spent together, it also felt too much like being a third wheel. He took it in stride, just as Ai had taken Fuma’s needs from his soulmate in stride. Yudai respected the relationship Ai shared with Fuma and the boundaries that came with it, and in turn Ai did the same, not letting Yudai’s existence make her feel insecure or try to drive him out of Fuma’s life. Yudai was not sure he could’ve done the same in her place, and the respect and friendliness she treated him with only made him like and admire her more. In a way, instead of a boyfriend, Yudai had earned himself two close friends, and this could only be a win in his books.
But sometimes, Yudai’s heart would flutter strangely when Fuma did something sweet for him (and because Fuma loved to dote on those he cared about, this happened all too often), and sometimes, Yudai would find himself fighting waves of longing, urges to do something, to hug, to touch, to feel, to kiss the one man who was right in front of him but completely out of reach at the same time, swallowing down irrational waves of jealousy as he watched Ai do everything he couldn’t, and every time it left Yudai wondering if all this was still just symptoms of the pesky soulmate stuff. He wanted to ask Fuma if he felt it too, to reassure himself that this was just fate meddling to nudge them further towards each other, but he was afraid - because what if it wasn’t? What if the restlessness in his heart that he was trying desperately to ignore wasn’t a nudge from the universe, but a sign of his own heart betraying him?
If it was, Fuma couldn’t know, and Yudai couldn’t take the risk of asking. No matter the reason, Yudai would have to keep these feelings suppressed and force a smile even as his heart twinged watching Fuma gaze lovingly at Ai.
It wasn’t that difficult, Yudai thought. This was just a bit of an inconvenience, maybe a smidge more bothersome than the initial itch, but manageable nonetheless. Over time, it would subside, or he would simply get used to it, and day by day, he tried to think about it as little as he could.
Before he knew it, months had passed in a blur of emotions, and they were already welcoming a new year. He and his friends always went to the new year’s party at their go-to pub, and this time, he had invited Fuma and Ai as well.
“Happy new year, boss!” Taki slurred at Yudai as he entered, already seeming like he’d had a bit too much to drink. He squealed as he spotted Harua approaching him, and immediately wrapped around him like an octopus.
Yudai averted his eyes, a little scandalized to see the kid he had mentored kissing his giggling boyfriend full on the mouth, but he couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. Within seconds, Jo was there and chaperoning the two off to a more discreet location, bright red ears showing his embarrassment.
“No more for either of them,” he paused to insist tiredly to the bartender with a long-suffering sigh.
“If you say so, cutie,” the flirty bartender replied, batting his eyelashes, earning himself an eye roll from his colleague. Jo’s face was fully crimson as he stumbled over his words for another moment before giving up and going back to shepherding the two drunk interns.
“People-watching, I see.”
Yudai startled at the familiar voice, turning to face Fuma with a smile. He took one look at his form fitting outfit and felt his mouth go dry. “Wow,” he stuttered, “you’re looking… good!”
Fuma snorted. “There’s no need to sound that surprised.”
Yudai had half a mind to tell him that it wasn’t surprise that was causing the panic on his face, but Ai laughed beside Fuma, making Yudai finally notice her presence.
“And you look beautiful, as always,” Yudai said smoothly, catching himself, and he earned a giggled thank you in return.
“Careful there, she’s taken,” Fuma joked.
“Too bad,” Yudai said with feigned disappointment.
They exchanged small talk and banter for a while, and Yudai introduced them to Nicholas and Euijoo, as well as their bartender friends Yuma and Maki, who were only too happy to provide some complimentary drinks for their favorite regulars. They drifted over the course of the night, and Yudai went around greeting and chatting with everyone he knew, only trying to find his way back to his friends as the countdown was about to start. He spotted them in the last few seconds, exchanging a warm smile with Fuma.
Four… Three… Two… One… Happy New Year!!
Yudai clapped a bit too enthusiastically, watching as everyone around him found someone to kiss - soulmates, lovers, strangers. He didn’t have anyone to kiss, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. It shouldn’t have felt any different than any other year.
But his eyes inevitably found Fuma, locked in a soft, passionate kiss with Ai, their eyes full of love and contentment as they parted. Yudai knew he shouldn’t care, that this was normal and as a platonic soulmate he had no right to be upset in any way, and yet, Yudai could feel his smile freezing on his face and his heart dropping through what felt like an endless abyss.
He snapped himself out of it, shaking his head, before plastering on a smile and making his way to them.
Fuma smiled back as he saw him approaching. “What, want a kiss too?” he joked, and Ai laughed beside him, both oblivious to the way Yudai’s heart stuttered at that.
“Of course,” Yudai joked back, leaning in teasingly for good measure. Fuma snorted, pushing him away lightheartedly.
Yudai staggered. It was a light, friendly push, just a part of the banter they shared with no heat behind it, but Fuma might as well have slapped Yudai in the face with how loud and clear the rejection felt.
“You’re so annoying sometimes,” Fuma huffed. “Go find someone else to kiss.”
Yudai caught himself, turning back to him with the same teasing smile. “Oh, but you’re the only one for me,” he said, laying the melodrama thick and hoping it was enough to disguise his shaking voice. “How can I kiss anyone else?”
Fuma just laughed lightly, exchanging an exasperated glance with Ai. The silent communication between them only worsened the ringing in Yudai’s ears, and he scrambled to keep joking and laughing and keeping them distracted from the clear distress in his eyes until the night wrapped up and he was left alone again.
This night marked the point when he realized that he was well and truly screwed.
The next day, he woke up with a tickle in his throat that refused to go away, and after a good ten minutes of trying to retch his lungs out, he felt something rise to his mouth, something curiously soft and thin. He spat it out into the sink, and his heart dropped.
It was a single, tiny daisy petal.