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Fuma had been warned about the dangers of dream traveling many times by Maki.
“I’ve done research on it. People are permanently changed, it's like their minds aren’t the same afterwards…or worse, they don’t come back at all.” Maki looks at him with pleading eyes and urgency coloring his tone.
They’re seated across from each other at their usual table at the local cafe. It smells like burnt coffee. Fuma rubs his eyes sleepily, Maki’s voice fading in and out like the tide.
“My neighbor, after her husband died, she dream traveled every night. I overheard her telling my mom about it, and one day she disappeared! We had to file a missing persons report and take in her cat. The cops said that it happens more often than people think. Fuma, please, listen to me…” The younger one looks up at him with pleading eyes. His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping his coffee cup. “It’s not worth the risks.”
Fuma nods numbly, but he mentally shrugs off the warning.
He knows the risks.
He knows the consequences.
He needs to see Kei.
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The sand feels coarse beneath his bare feet, and the salty ocean-tinged air whips around his face. A slight shiver runs down his body.
“This is new.”
Fuma turns around to see Kei standing behind him. He’s wearing a blue sweater, the one that Fuma gave him for his 20th birthday to be exact. He catches a faint whiff of Kei’s favorite cologne as a gust rushes past them. That’s a new detail.
“We haven’t traveled here before,” Kei says, scanning his surroundings.
“It was supposed to be warm weather. That’s what I had in mind,” Fuma responds, slightly startled by Kei’s comment. “Like how it was on our first weekend trip together. Do you remember? We packed sandwiches and ate them together over there.” He points towards where the trees meet the beach, casting shadows over the sand.
Kei looks at him with pitiful eyes. “You know that’s not how it works, love.”
The term of endearment hits him like a punch to the gut. The blood is pounding in his ears, and he’s trying to maintain his balance as he feels the dream start to slip. Desperate for it to not end, he grabs Kei’s hand, reaching for a lifeline, a sign, but his hand is freezing to the touch. Fuma would have to work on that next time, he’s been practicing this for so long, and it’s almost perfect.
“Please…” Fuma reaches towards Kei’s other hand but the world has already tilted, throwing him into blackness.
This was the other part of dream traveling. It’s fleeting and finicky. You never know how long the trip will last, but it will always never be enough.
Fuma wakes with a jolt before throwing off his bed covers to rush to the bathroom, coughing up blood into the sink. He tries to wipe the blood away from the corner of his mouth but he ends up smearing it more.
He looks at the reflection in the mirror. A stranger stares back at him. The bags under his eyes are pronounced. His usually flawless complexion is splotchy. He doesn’t know the last time he cut his hair, and he can see the split ends.
But, most importantly, there is a slight haze to his silhouette, like a fuzzy out-of-focus picture.
He doesn’t have much time left. He needs to act fast.
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Fuma told Maki that he found the dream traveling manual by accident.
That was a lie.
It brought a fiery unsettling sensation to his throat to get the lie out, especially to Maki, a friend who has been a pillar of unwavering support for him, but he couldn’t have any interference.
Dream traveling manuals and materials were banned decades prior, but a thriving black market popped up almost immediately. Desperate customers were willing to pay a premium and the sellers were more than happy to provide the equipment with a fat profit margin.
Fuma searched through the seedy section of the market district for an hour before a small handmade sign caught his eye. He ducked into the tiny storefront and exited a few minutes later, shoving a brown paper bag into his messenger bag.
A typical dream traveling kit contains a manual and four special adhesive patches. The manual’s instructions are as follows:
- Find a bedroom that can achieve absolute silence and darkness.
- Place a meaningful memento from the person you wish to travel with beside the bed.
- Lay on the bed and focus on a memory you wish to recreate with your traveling companion. It must be based upon an actual event.
- Count to three slowly. Repeat five times.
- After the fifth time, place the dream traveling patches on your temples and on the inside of both wrists.
After a person completes those five steps in that exact order, the dream will begin, if they’re lucky. While there are no official studies done on dream traveling due to its illegal nature, estimates are that there’s around a thirty percent success rate if someone will be able to travel.
Fuma had success on his first try.
The consequences of dream traveling are serious, Maki had not been exaggerating. Nausea, fatigue, and fever are among the known milder symptoms. The effects of continuous long-term dream traveling are more severe and less understood. Projecting yourself into an idealized recreation of a past moment with a phantom of a loved one isn’t without consequences.
The religious adversaries claim it draws upon your soul and is the work of the devil. The scientific minds draw up charts and diagrams, claiming that it most likely causes enough physical duress that it significantly weakens the heart and immune system.
However, neither side can explain the sudden disappearances that follow dream traveling like a shadow.
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“Do you mind if we sit with you?” A younger version of Euijoo stands before Fuma, eyes shining brightly. His hair is partially hidden underneath a bright blue beanie and he has his signature wide-eyed expression. “I’m Euijoo and this is Yudai, but he goes by Kei,” he continues, and points over his shoulder with his thumb to a tall guy who flashes Fuma a blinding smile and waves.
Fuma blinks slowly and orients himself. He’s in university and currently sitting in the student center. His table is currently balancing his laptop and a half-finished Americano, but there are indeed two empty chairs across from him. He looks back up at Euijoo and nods yes with a small smile and says “Sure.”
Euijoo exhales in relief. “Thanks! It’s super crowded here, and we couldn’t find an empty table.”
Fuma’s heart skips a beat as he locks eyes with Kei. Even though he’s traveled to this particular moment a few times, meeting Kei for the first time will always be one of his most treasured memories. His brow furrows slightly as he takes in the color of his hair. During this particular point in time, Kei is supposed to have his natural dark brown hair; however, this Kei showed up with an ash blonde tone, a color he only experimented with after they had graduated. Fuma makes a mental note to correct this for future visits.
“You like this memory a lot,” Kei says as he slides into the seat across from Fuma.
“Well, it's the first time I met you. Of course it’s important to me,” Fuma responds, but there’s a small uneasy prickling sensation at the back of his mind. This now makes two travels in a row where Kei had not only been aware of previous travels but also commented on them, something Fuma had not experienced in his three months of dream traveling.
Focusing back on the present, Fuma’s hand bumps against Kei’s hand that’s resting on the table, and he jerks his hand back in shock when he feels the same cold lifeless temperature. “Shit, it’s still not fixed,” he mutters under his breath.
Kei’s eyes grew round with concern. “Is everything okay?”
Fuma shakes his head quickly. “Oh! I’m fine,” he lets out a nervous laugh. “Your hand… it’s just that it’s so cold.” He mumbles.
Kei shakes his head as if that’s a silly statement. “It’s because I’m not real, Fuma.”
Except this time it’s not Kei’s voice. It’s a deep, growling tone that makes the hair on Fuma’s arms stand straight up.
“None of this is real,” another unsettling voice chimes in.
Fuma jumps in his seat startled and whips his head around to look at Euijoo, who is now staring intently back at him.
Euijoo speaks again, with more urgency. “You don’t have much time, Fuma. You need to stop coming here. We don’t want to have to take you…” Euijoo’s head jerks slightly to the side as if not fully in control of his body, like a puppet on a string, before he snaps his focus back to Fuma, his eyes completely black, the whites disappearing completely in a flash. His mouth curls up at the ends in a grotesque mocking smile, revealing a set of pointed jagged teeth.
Fuma lets out a yelp and attempts to stand, but Euijoo, or the creature that once was Euijoo, shoots out a hand in a halt pose and he finds himself unable to move out of his chair no matter how hard he struggles. Fuma grips the table so hard his knuckles turn white and his breath comes out ragged. He frantically looks around the center and realizes all the other people that were once milling about have disappeared, and the trees he can see through the window that face the courtyard have even grown taller and more menacing, casting long shadows.
His mind is racing at a breakneck speed. He’s been dream traveling for three months at this point, working hard on the memories, crafting each one to be a perfect recreation of that exact moment in time. Sure, there had been some small issues, like hair color or this persistent cold body temperature problem, but not until these two most recent travels has he experienced this increasingly hostile and frightening behavior.
“What are you talking about? What do you mean?” he stutters out, eyes darting between the two men sitting across from him.
Euijoo and Kei, or the figures who are supposed to be Euijoo and Kei, look at him blankly, dark eyes glinting under the fluorescent lighting.
“Take your soul,” Kei growls, eyes dark and flashing his fangs. “We’re supposed to take your soul.”
Kei thrusts an arm across the table as if to touch Fuma’s hand again, and Fuma yells, jerking backwards with enough force that his chair starts to fall over, but before he can hit the floor the dream tilts and everything fades to black.
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Fuma swears after that incident he meant to get rid of his dream traveling materials. The second he woke up he scrambled out of bed and grabbed everything, but just as he was about to throw it all in the trash a small voice in the back of his mind convinced him to keep them for just another week.
What’s the harm? He thought to himself.
So the manual and patches remain in Fuma’s room, tucked under his bed in a shoebox.
Fuma notices some improvements in the following week when he’s not dream traveling. He gets better sleep, his appetite slowly returns, he remembers to wash his face, and he even pulls out his Nintendo Switch and plays some games. Most importantly, he notices a change to his silhouette, a sharper less fuzzy appearance as if he was returning to his body after being away for a long time.
However, nothing satisfies the curiosity that eats away at him. The voice whispers to him at night, telling him that he was so close to finding out the truth. He is the only one that had gotten this far and managed to return.
“Just one more time. Don't you want to know?”
“Just one more time,” he mutters to himself as he sets up for what he plans as his final travel.
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When Fuma comes to, he is laying on his back in the middle of a forest clearing. The clearing is dotted with katakuri flowers and surrounded by tall trees that extend up towards the sky like watching giants.
Sitting up he turns his head to the left and catches sight of a tall being standing with their back to him. As if sensing his gaze, the being turns around and Fuma’s heart clenches at the sight before him as he scrambles to stand.
“I really tried,” the figure says, as Fuma continues to look on in horror. He recognizes Kei’s face, but it’s attached to a body that is certainly not Kei’s. The humanoid creature looks like one of the trees surrounding the field come to life, its legs and arms like thin branches, connecting to a trunk of a torso dotted with moss.
“I really hoped you’d take my last warning seriously,” the creature continues but then takes a pause when it notices Fuma’s blatant staring. “Off-putting, isn’t it?” it remarks, gesturing to its body. “This appearance. Here let me show you something…”
In an instant the creature’s face morphs into a series of past regrets in the form of people, each face replacing the previous in a matter of seconds like a twisted stop-motion film.
His mother.
His dance instructor who told him he had real potential.
His career counselor.
His cousin who once told him that Fuma was his hero and role model.
His boss every time he hands in his report late.
His father.
Maki.
His childhood friend, Yuma, who he lost touch with after he left for university.
Euijoo.
And finally the creature comes back to Kei’s face before transforming into what Fuma can only presume is its actual face, resembling wood that matches the rest of its body. The creature’s deep eyes stare intently at him.
“Are you starting to understand, Fuma? I’m everyone you could have ever wanted me to be. I was programmed for you, to lure you. I’m everybody because I’m nobody, I’m your idealized version of these people reflected back at you. I’m your ‘second chance.’ I don’t hurt, I don’t harm, I never talk back, I am always agreeable, lovable even. I’m everything you think you lack.”
Fuma shakes his head and clenches his hands into fists at his side. “I don’t understand, you say you were trying to lure me, but at the same time you were warning me?”
The creature hums thoughtfully but doesn’t answer the question. “You’re lucky I guessed you would come back, so I brought us here. This is a safe haven where the entity rarely travels. Next time if you come back you won’t be so fortunate. Leave now.”
“What do you mean? Who are you? How does any of this work?” Fuma gestures around him at the clearing. “Where are we?”
The creature sighs. “I suppose I can explain some of this all to you, but you must understand I cannot share everything. Technically, my orders are that if I see you again to bring you to the entity at once. We only have time to answer a few questions, so choose wisely.”
Fuma nods and quickly organizes his thoughts. “Okay, who are you?”
The creature’s eyes flick to something beyond Fuma’s shoulder. Fuma turns his head but all he sees are trees. He turns his head back around and the creature starts to talk. “Humans have no name for us. You’re the first person to discover that we exist, actually. My family and I have lived in this realm for eons. It’s not quite reality, but not quite the afterlife, more of an in-between space. We travel in and out as we please. As you’ve seen, we have the power to alter our appearance, something we used infrequently because we had no need to, but that was before the entity arrived...”
“Who is this entity you keep mentioning?”
“Thinking of the entity as a who is missing the whole point. A better way to think about it is ‘what is the entity?’. The entity is a manifestation of human feelings and emotions, that’s where it draws upon its power. Specifically, it gains the most power from the feeling of regret. It’s discovered the simplest way to elicit that feeling is through what you call ‘dream traveling.’”
“Okay,” Fuma says, proud at how steady his voice is, “last question. Why are you helping me?”
Blinking slowly, the creature hums thoughtfully before answering.
“Because there are people waiting for you, and it would be a shame to keep them waiting any longer. You better hurry up now, they’ve been very patient. If you join me here again, I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you.”
With that last statement, the creature gives Fuma a small smile before gently placing a fingertip on his shoulder and the dream tilts, fading to black before Fuma has a chance to ask “Who?”.
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Fuma sits up in his bed gasping for air. He rips off the patches with a violent pull and throws them across the room. With a shaking hand he reaches for his phone on his nightstand. He frantically texts his boss that he needs to call out sick for the day.
After managing to press send on the text, he powers off his phone. He stands and moves to the bathroom like a zombie. It takes him a few minutes to gather the strength to turn on the shower. He loses track of how long he stands in the shower, letting the freezing water pour down on him as he stares at the tiled wall of the shower blankly.
Later that night, after he spends the day sitting on the couch watching television loudly with all of the lights on, he hears knocking at his front door. He shuffles over to answer the door and is shocked to see Euijoo standing in his doorway. Euijoo gives him a hesitant smile and holds up the takeout bag in his hands as a peace offering.
“Can I come in?”
Fuma nods and motions for him to come inside. They sit down at Fuma’s small dining table in the corner of his living room. Euijoo is not hiding the fact that he’s openly staring at Fuma as he chows down on his noodles, but he’s kind enough not to mention the trash and dust that has accumulated in Fuma’s usually tidy apartment.
“You’re looking…Fuzzy. Better than I thought it was going to be… but definitely still fuzzy.”
Fuma shrinks down in his seat. “Maybe you should get your eyes checked,” he responds with zero confidence in his tone. He’s been caught.
“These are fashion glasses, you know that I have 20/20 vision,” Euijoo deadpans, continuing to stare. “I talked to Maki. He’s really worried about you. He hasn’t seen you at the gym the past couple of months. You love working out with Maki.”
A beat of silence.
“I called you, to let you know I was coming over. It went straight to voicemail.”
This time, Fuma responds. “I turned off my phone. Just wanted a day to myself.”
Euijoo pushes. “Please, Fuma. Tell me what’s going on. I’ve been trying to respect that you’re a grown adult man who can handle himself. I really have, but it has gotten to a point. I hope you know I’m coming from a place of love and caring. I promise I am not judging you. Just let me help, please.”
Another beat of silence as Fuma fidgets with the hem of his shirt.
Euijoo finally lets the other shoe drop. “I looked up dream traveling. What it is, the effects of it, everything.”
All Fuma wants to do is slip down his seat and curl up on the floor in a ball. Nobody was supposed to see him in this state. He was supposed to fix this situation before then. “Or disappear altogether,” a small voice in the back of his head says.
“Fuma…” Euijoo’s voice cracks and Fuma’s heart shatters as the weight of his actions come crashing down upon him. First he stressed out Maki, kind, dependable Maki, and now he’s making Euijoo beg him to let him in.
Euijoo continues speaking. “What I really want to say is that I’m worried about you. We’re worried about you.”
Fuma doesn’t have the courage to ask who is included in the “we’re” and looks down at the table as he feels tears building up in his eyes. “I miss him so much, Euijoo,” he confesses in a whisper, his voice breaking.
“I know, Fuma,” Euijoo says gently and moves his chair closer to Fuma before gently placing his hand on Fuma’s shoulder. That comforting touch is the final straw and Fuma breaks down, holding onto Euijoo’s shirt like a lifeline as he sobs into the younger man’s shoulder.
The two of them sit there in an embrace for an hour until the sky outside turns dark and Fuma’s sobs turn into quiet whimpers.
Once the tears subside, Euijoo breaks the silence.
“Where is it?”
Fuma furrows his brow. “Where’s what?”
“The dream traveling shit.”
Fuma walks into his room and grabs the materials, which are still scattered across the floor in his room. He returns to the kitchen and wordlessly hands them over to Euijoo. Euijoo goes into Fuma’s kitchen and starts rummaging around, opening drawers and cabinets. He returns a few minutes later, hands full. “C’mon we’re burning this.”
“This seems excessive,” Fuma comments, staring at the mini fire Euijoo started in the firepit outside Fuma’s apartment complex.
“This stuff almost killed my friend. I think I am being merciful.” Euijoos says as the two stare at the flames. Once the guidebook and patches have turned into nothing more than smoke vapor and soot, Euijoo puts out the flames and all that remains is smoke.
“Why did you do it?” Euijoo asks, eyes fixed on the smoke. “Dream traveling, I mean.”
Fuma lets out a deep sigh and shrugs as he blinks back tears. “I don’t really even know myself. Everything just felt so heavy, the breakup, work, life. I really just planned to try it once or twice, but soon it was all I could think about.”
Fuma then proceeds to tell Euijoo everything, all the thoughts and feelings that had been building up; the breakup and the subsequent months of drifting, feeling like a visitor in his own body. He describes how he decided to try dream traveling, partially out of morbid curiosity and partially as a form of escapism. He even explains his final visit and the things he learned about the source of dream traveling’s power. He expects Euijoo to scoff or say he’s making it all up, but instead the younger man is staring at him, soaking in every word without an ounce of judgement.
“I thought it would be temporary, something to just help me get through it all.” Fuma lets out a wet laugh. “I feel like such an idiot now given what’s happened.”
“Hey, don’t call my friend an idiot,” Euijoo warns.
Fuma shakes his head. “But it’s true, I am an idiot. I made you worry, Maki is probably a nervous wreck too, who knows who else I’ve caused stress. My performance at work has suffered, I barely sleep anymore, I don’t even know when the last time I worked out was, and I don’t recognize myself when I look in the mirror.”
“I’m so serious, Fuma, don’t joke around with me. You are human. You were hurt, you needed connection, and this scam, because that’s what it is, a scam, preys upon vulnerable people. You don’t have to suffer in silence, I hope you know that. Maki, myself, all of your friends, we love you so much, Fuma. Please let us in. I would have rather held your hand through weeks of post-breakup crying instead of you turning to whatever this is,” Euijoo says and motions to the pile of soot.
“Okay, I promise,” Fuma says in a small voice and Euijoo envelopes him in another firm hug.
“I love you,” Euijoo says. “I love you so much. I will happily pick up the pieces. It’s not selfish to need other people. We’re your friends, your community.” Fuma nods into Euijoo's shoulder, still tucked in the younger man’s embrace.
“Also,” Euijoo continues, “Maki expects you at the gym tomorrow morning. He told me 8 o’clock sharp. I know he will show up to your door and drag you out of bed by your ankles if you don’t show.”
Fuma nods yes into Euijoo’s shoulder again. He’s been running from reality long enough.
Maki’s smile when he sees Fuma walk into the gym the following morning lights up the entire room. He makes a beeline over to Fuma and gives him a bone crushing hug. “Missed you, buddy,” he says into his shoulder. “Don’t ever do that to me again or I’ll beat you up.”
Fuma laughs. “I’d like to see you try.”
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After Fuma and Kei broke up, Fuma initially convinced himself he was fine. He went to work, went to the gym, went to the grocery store, cleaned his apartment on a regular schedule – that meant he was fine, right?
He was fine that Kei decided to take a once in a lifetime opportunity to travel to L.A. and work as a choreographer at a premier studio. He was so fine with it that he was the one who had encouraged his boyfriend to apply to the job in the first place because who is he to put Kei’s entire future potential over his own selfish needs?
“You sure?” Kei had asked him. “L.A. is very far away…”
Fuma nods in response. “You need to chase your dreams, Kei. I will always support you in that.”
Selfish.
That was a word that haunted Fuma. It was selfish to want. It was selfish to ask. It was selfish to desire.
Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.
He never wanted to be considered selfish.
“This is so selfish of you! How could you do this to me and your father?” Fuma’s mom had told him when he came out to her. She then proceeded to lock herself in her room and cry for two days straight.
“C’mon, Fuma! Don’t be selfish!” His school career counselor told him when he said he wanted to become a professional dancer. “How will you ever support your parents when they’re older with an inconsistent job like that? You need to be more realistic.” Fuma decided to enroll in an accounting course instead.
So of course when Kei shares a job listing with Fuma, a job that would take him across an ocean, Fuma knew what he had to do: he couldn’t be selfish.
When people who have never experienced a major heartbreak picture a breakup, it’s most likely filled with raised voices, loud echoes of doors slamming, heightened passion and dramatics.
What these people don’t understand is that sometimes a breakup is a random Thursday when you drive your freshly labeled ex-boyfriend to the airport with a quick hug and a promise to “keep in touch” and “talk later.”
And when you see his back disappear through the sliding door you realize that he took a whole piece of your heart that you will never get back.
But you never say anything in the moment because you’re not selfish.
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6 months later
Fuma fidgets with his shirt in front of the mirror in his bedroom. Euijoo had been planning this house warming party for at least a month. It’s a big deal that he and his boyfriend, Nico, moved in together. Fuma had been a first-hand witness of the duo’s push and pull over the years, and he’s so proud of how far they’ve come, so he wants to be there to support his friends, but there was one not-so-insignificant detail that had his stomach in knots.
Kei is going to be there.
Two weeks ago, Euijoo called him. “Hey,” Euijoo’s voice crackled over Fuma’s phone speaker. “I wanted to let you know that Kei is moving back permanently in a few weeks, and I was thinking of inviting him to the house warming party, but before I did that I wanted to see if you would be comfortable with seeing him there.”
Fuma’s mind went blank. “He’s moving back?” is all he managed to get out.
“Yeah, his contract ended at the studio in L.A. and he decided to not renew. Said L.A. never felt like home and he missed everyone here way too much.”
“Oh, okay… that’s nice to hear. That’s good,” Fuma stuttered. “I’m…glad to hear that.”
“Yeah, so I was thinking of inviting him, but if that’s too much for you I’ll hold off. If you want to take a day or so to think about it too, that’s fine.”
Fuma closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No, no he can be there. I think it’s time the two of us talked. I’m ready.”
“Oh! Great,” Euijoo said, trying to be nonchalant but clearly overjoyed at the news. “I didn’t want to influence your decision, but I know he’s been dying to talk to you. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from him, so he’s been holding off on telling you that he’s moving back. But yeah, I’m excited for this party.” Euijoo coughed, realizing that he’d been rambling. The two chatted for a few minutes about the new apartment (Euijoo had already managed to kill two house plants in the span of six weeks) before hanging up.
Taking a last look in the mirror, Fuma smoothes down his shirt one more time before grabbing his keys and driving over to Euijoo and Nico’s new place.
The past handful of months have been transformative for him since the night he and Euijoo burned the dream traveling materials. It had taken time and patience with himself, but he’s slowly returned to his regular routine. Gym days with Maki, video game nights with friends, he even joined a local dance troupe that Nico helps run. He finds himself actively looking forward to the nights where he gets to practice dance with the group.
He also started talking to someone, a therapist. At first he was unsure how he felt about it, telling a stranger his deepest thoughts that he had hidden away for so long. However, over time he began to open up, he’s noticed small changes that have all been adding up to significant improvements in his life.
Walking into the house party, Fuma is greeted warmly by Nico who quickly pulls him into the kitchen and thrusts a beer in his hand. “I’m so happy you’re here!” Nico cheers, a pink flush on his cheeks and radiating pure joy.
“Fuma!” Euijoo joins the duo in the kitchen and drapes himself over his boyfriend’s back. “I’m so happy you’re here!”
Nico giggles, clearly tipsy, and gently smacks his boyfriend’s arm. “I just said that!”
Fuma smiles. “Me too. Congratulations, I’m so happy for you two.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Euijoo says. “You were the one who told me to get my head out of my ass and tell Nico how I felt.”
Nico tucks his head into Euijoo’s neck. “Oh my god, stop,” he whines but his blush gives him away.
Fuma chats with the couple a bit more before making his way over to the living room where most people are gathered. He spends time chatting with members of the dance troupe, Maki, and other friends. Before he knows it the sun is starting to set outside and Fuma steps away from the group and out onto the small balcony located off of the living room to get some fresh air.
He’s sitting on one of the balcony chairs and watching the sunset when he hears the sliding door open and someone steps out. Turning around, he feels his breath catch in his throat as he sees it’s Kei.
“Hey,” Kei says gently, a hesitant smile graces his lips. “Nico told me you were out here. Is it okay if I join you?”
Fuma nods, words stuck in his throat.
“I want to reach out to you,” Kei continues, “but Euijoo planned all of this, and I wasn’t sure how you felt, and ….” he trails off and bites his bottom lip nervously.
In his mind, Fuma planned an entire eloquent speech about how much he’s grown, how he misses Kei like a phantom limb, but the moment he locks eyes with Kei he lets out a choked sob and stands up before enveloping the taller man in a crushing embrace. He buries his face in Kei’s shoulder, breathes in his scent, and feels the radiating warmth of the older man’s body.
It’s then that Fuma allows his walls to crumble and gives himself grace. He allows himself to want, to need, to feel. He pulls Kei closer, muttering, “I love you, I’m sorry, I missed you, I’m so so sorry,” like a mantra in his ear. Kei hums gently and sways the two of their intertwined bodies side to side.
“It’s okay, Fuma. I’m here. I got you. I always have,” Kei responds and places a kiss on the shorter man’s head and nuzzles him closer.
And, finally, Fuma knows he’s not selfish at all.