Chapter Text
Being the best-man at a wedding is a huge load of work. When Toono asked him, Yaguchi didn’t refuse out of courtesy and that force of habit of his where he could not deny his friends anything. He might be grumpy and complain all the way about it but in the end he would do it.
Much to his luck, he had Kashima’s brothers (best-men on his side) helping him out running the errands so that he would not get a nerve breakdown in the process: he was one discussion about flowers color away before committing a mass murder of both humans and plants.
Seeing his struggles with inanimate objects and small groups of people, Kashima’s younger brother decided to monitor the invitations himself, letting this off Yaguchi’s shoulders who was very glad to leave dealing with guests to someone else. He got mad at flowers and they didn’t even talk back, setting him up with people asking to take things off the menu because of allergies, pleading for their dogs to be allowed and other shenanigans was begging for a tragedy to happen.
The months preceding the wedding were atrocious: he had to run around like a record to solve last minute problems and keep up with the grooms requests. It was a total nightmare, so much so that he was sure his funeral would have been celebrated alongside his best friends’ wedding. It was like getting a second job, his phone almost defusing for the amount of incoming calls and texts. As an atheist, he did not believe in Hell but that situation was getting kind of close to what it would have looked like.
When the big day came around, he didn’t get to slow down a bit: there was the toast, then the band had some problems with the music, a temporary shortage of wine and whatnot. And of course, all the unthinkable people stopped him to have a quick chat, it didn’t matter whether they knew him or not. He spent solid twenty minutes talking to a man who called him Ken and showered him in compliments for his brilliant career as a physician. His attempts to remind this unknown gentleman his name was not Ken and that he could not tell the difference between a pancreas and a liver even if they were in front of theme were totally useless.
He barely touched any food, as if he was the one getting married, and after what seemed like ages, he eventually sat down, eating a bite of what should have been some kind of fancy tuna. He was starting to relax a bit when Kashima’s youngest sibling, aka, the other best man appointed to look afte the guests, approached him all worried, his face pale like he just committed a crime. Funny to watch since Yaguchi seemed more suited for that role.
“Kyousuke, we’ve got a problem.”
Yaguchi rolled his eyes and didn’t even bother to respond, he focused on the piece of fish on his plate. He needed a moment to recharge.
His cousin however, did have other plans.
“I’m not kidding, this is huge.” he pleaded.
“What.”
“It’s uncle Yatora.”
Kashima’s grandmother older brother who started to develop dementia.
“What about him?”
“He disappeared.”
A flush of anger, powered up by frustration and tiredness made Yaguchi’s blood boil: “You had to watch him.”
“I know. I took my eyes off of him for a second and he just…disappeared.”
Yaguchi slammed the fork down on the table.
“God darn it!”
He smeared, standing up, grabbing his younger cousin by the shirt: “We need to find him before this wedding turns into a funeral!”
They scanned the restaurant down like it was an enemy military base, there wasn’t a single nook and cranny they didn’t look into. The more the search proceed, the higher their anxiety grew.
When even the last bathroom stall have been checked empty, the two cousins watched at each other in agreement: the parking lot.
They hurriedly crossed the dancefloor and the dining hall, dodging waitresses and drunken dancing guests like they were in a football match. They hurried down the stairs that lead to the ground floor. The fact that uncle Yatora was nowhere near the stairs gave them a glint of hope: at least he didn’t fall.
At the bottom of the stairs, there was a heavy, steel fire-escaping door which lead straight to the park outside. Yaguchi pushed the red handle with all his might.
“Son of a bitch!”
The door hit against something, or better, knocked someone out. As the vision was clear, they found uncle Yatora staring at them with puzzled eyes and there was another man sitting down on the ground, holding his hand up to his nose as blood kept streaming down.
Yaguchi had to recollect his thoughts a bit, he grabbed his cousin and asked him to bring Yatora back in while he would take care of the person he just injured.
Aside from the parking light, it was dark outside and he could not distinguish with absolute clarity who that person was on the spot. Then he spoke again, and a lighting struck into Yaguchi’s head: “When they said smoking kills, I thought it’d take longer and be less traumatic.”
“You! What the hell are you doing here?”
The man glared in his direction: “Came down for a smoke, found an old man who seemed lost, tried to make it back to the dinner and then a door hit me in the face.”
Yaguchi’s brain circuit partially reconnected, as he reached for a tissue in his jacket pocket. The jacket he was not wearing that laid abandoned on the back of a chair in the middle of the dining room. At this point the instinct and muscle memory took the best out of him ans he rolled down his shirt’s sleeve, covering his hand. He knelt down in front of him, bringing the covered hand up in an attempt to tampon the bleeding.
He had the sensation of being transported into a time loop, staggering déjà-vu sensation pervaded him has his hands trembling but firmly reached up in a clumsy remedy attempt. He had been playing this scenario in his head over and over for ten years now, the sense of guilt and sensation of having messed up big time hunting him so much that all his acts were just the result of a coping impulse that has been tormenting him for too long now.
He have been asking for a second chance since that damned day of June during his second year in high school. Since then, all the wishes, thoughts and prayer were focused on this one and only moment specifically. This time, he was not going to screw it up.
“You’re not.”
The grip on his wrist and the abrupt words dragged him back to reality. As he realized what he was doing and how he was acting, Yaguchi retracted his hand blushing violently. For the first time in all of his life he was at a loss of words.
The man took out a packet of paper tissues from his pockets and tore one in half, rolling it up into a firmer kind of stick that he inserted in his nostril to temporarily conceal the damage.
“I’m not going to be blamed for pouring blood over the best-man like Stephen King’s Carrie.”
He tend proceeded to stand up, leveraging his body with one firm hand pressed on the ground. While Yaguchi just kept his position, hoping a hole would open beneath him to swallow him into the darkness, getting him free from embarrassment.
He was so taken in his circle of thoughts to not notice the hand stretched in front of him. He looked up, accepting the offer to help him stand. He grabbed the offered hand and let his body being pulled up at what was probably gonna be the maximum contact he would ever have with this person.
There was an amused chuckle coming from the other person: “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, don’t you agree, Ugly?”
Yaguchi stood at the entrance of the lavatory, his body weight against the white ceramic tiles, arms crossed as he watched Tamura wash his face in the sink. There was no reason at all for him to tail his old peer in there, he seemed to be doing just fine and it was nothing serious but he wanted to make sure everything was alright. He forced himself into being unconcerned in the past and it came with a cost, a high price he was not going to make Tamura pay again.
He was being quiet, his brain racing, thoughts forming convoluted patterns, stressing out on what to say in scenarios that didn’t and probably would never happen. He was giving himself a migraine over nothing.
“You alright?”
He was so overloaded with his inner thoughts that at some point he didn’t notice Tamura had finished cleaning himself up and was now standing in front of him.
Ten years. They were just noisy little brats the last time they saw each other. Now, what was standing in front of him was a grown man and, god, was the vision stunning: his hair were messy as per usual but shorter and he shaved the sides of his head, this made his huge collection of earrings even more evident. Tamura’s been a fan of earrings and piercings since when they were young and he already have multiple pierced ears since adolescence, but he defiantly added more over the years. He surely did it on his face where a side labret was adorning the left side of the mouth and two thin silver rings were positioned in the right nostril. He was wearing a thin line of eyeliner which wasn’t too aggressive but did its job at adding depth to his eyes. Even the light reddening of the nose due to the hit seemed to paradoxically go well with his overall looks.
He was wearing a ‘800s style vampire black shirt, with puffed sleeves and laced ruffles going from the base of the turtleneck all the way down his chest. All of that framed in high-wast skinny black pants and leather Chelsea ankle boots with a silver detail on the point.
So much for someone who back in school would drop an animal print hoodie over a striped tee and a loose pair of old slacks and call it a day.
Yaguchi looked at his reflection in the mirrors: he looked like shit. His hair, earlier pulled into a ponytail, were messy and going in all directions, his eyes looked soggy and the bags under them were so deep and black he could audition for Jack Skellington right in the moment. His shirt’s sleeves were ruffled because he had been rolling them up and down pretty much all night long and on his light grey pants, a red wine drop stood out on the right thigh, probably as a results of his rush through the crowd to rescue uncle Yamada. And now that he noticed it, he might have something within’ his teeth from the one and only portion he tasted all night long.
He had been daydreaming about this moment for a solid decade now, but in none of his scenarios he was in a restroom looking like Ed Elm’s stunt double in The Hangover.
Tamura was looking down on him, one eyebrow raised in a mix of concern and annoyance.
What the hell was he doing? He had to get a grip.
“I’m destroyed.” he breathed out, and he wasn’t even joking. Tamura nodded: “I see. My brother was the best-man at for a friend. He’s always been a bit odd but we almost had to put him in a straitjacket so much he was freaking out.”
He then moved towards the door: “Shall we head back?” he suggested, pointing at the entrance towards the dining room. Yaguchi followed: “I’m sorry for the door. Let me offer you a drink.”
Tamura’s mouth twitched down: “Sorry, I don’t drink. Besides there’s the open bar, so technically Toono and Kashima are actually paying.”
“They are also the ones who chose the restaurant knowing about the door so, technically it’s their fault I actually hit you in the face.”
A slow, guttural laugh came from Tamura:”Pettiness never left you I see.”
“I think I have a gene or something.”
They reached the bar where Yaguchi took a beer whereas Tamura sticked to a mojito mocktail, which turned out to be basically lime juice with water, sugar and a single mint leaf. Good thing he wasn’t the one paying for that or he’d have to be granted a refund. They then moved on the terrace where the atmosphere was quieter and the music wouldn’t smash their eardrums. They sat down at a metallic coffee table, partially hidden away by a giant fern vase that must have come straight from the Jurassic for how overgrown it was.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” stated Yaguchi, mostly to fill an upcoming embarrassing silence rather than to give an actual information.
Tamura lit a cigarette:”Me neither.” he took a long puff of smoke: “If my friend wasn’t coming with me, I’d ditched.”
“You’re here with a friend?”
Tamura pointed towards the glass wall at the other end of the balcony, at the table there was a woman in a sparkling red dress and long hair who seemed to be caught up in conversation with Shikatani who, for the record, was wearing kind of a matching dress.
“Oh. Your girlfriend?” there was an inch of envy radiating out of that question but Tamura either didn’t notice or pretended not to. He just goggled his eyes, his mouth arching down in a disapproval frown as he shook his head: “Not even close.” he took a sip of his drink: “She’s engaged to my drummer and is the older sister of one of my flatmate who happened to be my first choice.” he put the glass down glancing momentarily at the sky as he approached to describe his master plan: “One our in and he’d get hammered so hard I’d be left with no choice than getting out.” he brought the cigarette to his mouth: “I’d not disappoint the newlyweds yet I’d make my way out safe. With a drunken ass person in my car which is not that different from an ordinary Saturday night.”
Yaguchi was amused by the story: “Why didn’t he come then?”
“Because he’s a fucking idiot.” he puffed out a light trail of smoke: “Last week we were playing in a pub and during the performance he decided to go all Angus Young.” he paused, his eyes narrowing in accusation: “Mind you, the only workout he does is raising cups at the bar. Anyway, he jumped and landed on his knee, fracturing it in three spots.” he exhaled in rather bitterness.
“When his sister offered I was glad because I could have someone to talk to. Then she got intrigued talking with Shikatani about, I don’t know clothing and stuff.” he shrugged:”I hold no grudge against him but I locked that door shut years ago and I have no intention of opening it back.”
There was a hint of sorrow in the last sentence and Yaguchi could feel a knot forming on his stomach. Tamura had literally disappeared one day to the other, apparently cutting any kind of relationship from high school. Well, almost all relationships exception made for Toono and Kashima who were the ones taking his side when he needed the most.
Yaguchi was not in this picture. If any, he fell on the no contact side together with the others. Being added in the same category as Akemi really did sting him in his pride.
He lowered his eyes, trying to focus on the light wave movements of the liquid in his glass as Tamura went on.
“Since I found someone I didn’t want to talk to at every goddamn corner, I decided to go for a smoke in the parking lot where I found Yamada. Nice old gentleman. Then you knocked me down and here we are.”
Yaguchi gave him a faint smile: “I’m sorry.” he toyed with the edge of his glass:”If my presence is bothering you-”
“What?” Tamura interrupted, by the confused yet amazed expression on his face, Yaguchi’s assumption seemed void.
“You didn’t grow taller as much as you didn’t get smarter, did you?”
Yaguchi glared at him, he was kind of stung but that reply allowed him to hope there still was a chance out there.
“According to you I came all the way up here with mosquitoes biting me in body parts I wasn’t aware of, sipping at this sugary poor excuse of a drink to talk with you after you almost break my nose with a steel door because I wanted to avoid you?”
“You hid the entire night.”
Tamura scoffed, he was finding this whole situation entertaining:”I wanted to say hi, and passed by you several times. You just had your hands full with other stuff and didn’t notice.”
The realization hit him hard: he noticed him entering the dining room while he was instructing the photographer, waving across the room as his aunt blocked him in a fifth grade interrogation, he was reaching for him when Toono came alarmed that the wine was over. There had been so many occasions that he just subconsciously slipped that night.
He’ll have to thank uncle Yamada later.
They sat down, keeping on talking, their drinks getting warm as time flew by. They were mindful enough not to dig anything from the past: Tamura didn’t want to and Yaguchi felt like it was not the moment, not yet.
They used this time to catch up: Tamura graduated in liberal arts and was now a copywriter in an advertisement company, together with some college friends he build a band that played mostly around pubs for a cheeseburger and a beer. He shared the rent with two friends and had issues with the neighbor upstairs who apparently enjoyed walking around in stiletto heels at night, making him impossible to sleep.
Yaguchi’s life wasn’t going that much better, he lived in a shack oversold as “apartment” on his renting contract that came with broke air conditioning. He worked in insurance but having to deal with people had him consider taking the hitman professional route instead. He still played soccer with colleagues on Thursday nights.
Tamura had grown significantly, not just in age. Despite being the usual snarky self, a bit too comfortable in talking with a foul mouth, he was now self confident and could hold a conversation without getting all nervous and ditching the subject into inappropriate territories. He was in tune with Yaguchi’s bitter and sometimes petty personality and he was happy that that chemistry he hinted years prior now was back, confirmed and stronger.
They’d probably went on all night long if it wasn’t for the wedding cake. The first cut was going to be made and the best men were called on duty to share this moment.
“Come on Yacchan, they’re waiting for you!” urged his cousin, running back towards the dining hall.
“Well, seems I need to supervise two adults cutting a piece of cake with a fucking spatula.”
“You’d be amazed by how many things can go wrong in this scenario.”
“If it includes me smashing my cousin’s face into the cake I can kinda picture it.” he paused: “He’s allergic to dairies, that’s where the fun comes into play.”
Yaguchi stood up:”You know, I think I’ll have to say goodbye now. After the cake there’s going to be the dance and other bullshit that would probably bleed me dry.”
Tamura smiled, getting a drought out of this cigarette: “Yeah, I’m finishing this, then I think I’ll head back home. Gotta wake up early tomorrow.”
He smiled up, offering his hand to Yaguchi who smiled and shook it, resisting the urge to pull him in for a hug:”It was nice catching up. Have a good night, Yacchan.”
Yaguchi started to head towards the dining hall but there was something that stung inside of him, a sense of incompleteness, something he felt the need, the urge to do. He was given one chance and wasn’t going to waste it. He walked back to the table, the words coming out of his mouth in a stream: “Senpai, I’m sorry to barge in but I’ve got to ask you, and whatever you reply is fine by me.” he was feeling his face lighting up, as if it was on fire. Tamura looked up at him, a slightly concerned expression on his face: I’ve been wanting to ask this for so long. Ever since you left school and maybe even earlier.” he gulped down:”Would you go out with me sometimes?”
He said it, it was out, there was no turning back now. He didn’t think through it properly, if he was ever going to receive a “no” for an answer, he’d probably be bawling his eyes out in the pictures. Well, at least he could use the being happy for the marriage excuse.
Tamura’s face softened in a caring smile that was yet filled with sorrow. He took a breath: “Listen, Yacchan, I am thankful. I really am.” he stood up, moving in front of him:”But I dont know.”
Yaguchi was confused: that answer wasn’t on the pletora of the possible ones he’d even considered.
“Look, I understand you have something for me since high school and I can respect that but we’re different people now.” he snorted:”Damn, your longtime crush is getting married and you’re not the groom and are asking me out instead.”
He looked down, as he was feeling guilty:” Listen, this is just so sudden. I don’t know what to answer.”
Yaguchi swallowed down a bitter gulp. He did expect this outcome to come about but he underestimated the impact it would have on him. He could feel his eyes getting watery, his chest clenched in an unpleasant sensation. He was about to run away. He never had a second chance.
“Here, give me your number.”
Yaguchi’s eyes flickered, as he was trying to process what was happening. Tamura was holding his phone out, nudging it in his direction. Yaguchi reluctantly took it into his hands, but once he got a firm grip on the device, he typed down his own number, making sure it was correct and gave it back to him.
Tamura grinned, sliding his phone back into his pockets: “I’ll think about it and let you know if and when I’m ready.”
It was nothing certain, it wasn’t definitive but it was so much more he could have hoped for in ten years. The sorrow from seconds later was now gone, turning in a new found sense of hope.
“T-thank you.”
“Besides, you still owe me for the nice job you gave my nose. I forgive but don’t forget.”