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“You again?”
Koushi looks up from where he’s perched on a parking bumper, cheek in hand.
It’s the cop-receptionist, or whatever his real job is. Koushi normally sees this guy seated at the front counter, and he’s always intercepting Koushi from seeing Daichi.
Granted, it’s probably illegal to walk straight into an office with stacks of classified material lying around, but still.
“Oh, hey,” Koushi says, shoots the other man a tiny smile as his gaze flickers to the name tag on his chest. Daichi says he should try being more friendly. “Mr. Ennoshita.”
“Just call me Chikara.” The cop shakes his head, slipping his peaked hat over neat black hair. “Don’t you have better things to do than hang out around a police station?”
Koushi shrugs and bumps his knees together.
…
“Graduation’s just around the corner,” Koushi says, running a knuckle down the stubble at Daichi’s jaw. “Can you make it?”
“You want me to?” Daichi hums, tracing patterns onto Koushi’s hipbones.
Koushi jabs him in the side and glares.
“Alright, alright,” Daichi laughs, and Koushi finds himself enjoying the crows’ feet forming around the older man’s eyes.
“I’m not anywhere near a parental figure to you,” Daichi continues, once sober. He rolls his eyes at Koushi’s are-you-fucking-me look. “And I don’t want it to come off like I’m nagging you, but. Have you given any thought about what to do? After Highschool?”
It’s unchartered waters.
Koushi never asks about Daichi’s home life, or the late nights out at the pub. In return, Daichi never asks about Koushi’s grades. Or the future.
It’s unchartered waters.
Koushi doesn’t reply.
…
“I’m going to Berkeley.”
Morisuke is all smiles when he shows them the early acceptance letter.
It’s no surprise – Morisuke has always been a dilligent student and his grades are always consistent. Even the minor ADHD keels over in the face of his mighty will.
“That’s amazing!” Koushi grins back.
Keiji nods, resting his cheek on his palm. “I don’t have any plans yet, but I’ll probably try for the community college.”
Koushi hates how their conversations always end up about the future.
“What about you, Kou?” Morisuke prods, gently.
Morisuke doesn’t mean any harm. Koushi knows it.
But he can’t help the bubble of irritation when Morisuke’s caution morphs into pity, into Terushima leaving Koushi behind.
Into all of them leaving him behind.
“Nothing yet,” Koushi shrugs and points at the first few blooms of the year. “I guess winter’s finally over, huh.”
…
“You’re a disappointment.”
Like Koushi hadn’t known before.
“How do you expect to go to college with… with this?”
Koushi’s father throws the sheet of paper onto the table, his mother’s stern gaze unwavering. Red ink smiles up at Koushi happily, a condemnation in itself.
“I don’t want to go to college.” Koushi mumbles, and winces when something snaps in his father’s grip. “I’m… I can’t study anymore, I don’t want to-”
“Then what will you do?” It’s his mother’s turn. “There’s no future for drop-outs, Koushi. You’ll be stuck in a dead-end job.”
And is that so bad?
He’s listened to them for years.
Piano, violin, golf. Study, get good grades, make them proud.
But he’s never been happy.
Koushi’s tried to tell them, multiple times. How it feels like he’s drowning, even when everyone else is fine. How, whenever anyone talks about the future, it feels like his head is about to explode.
But they never listen.
…
Lying next to Daichi is what Koushi thinks suspended animation might feel like.
He forgets all his troubles and all his worries ebb away.
It’s as though they’re safe from the world outside, wrapped up in their little cocoon of blankets and warmth. It’s as though time has frozen, and Koushi can actually believe that they’ll be this way forever.
Koushi has no idea when he’d gotten so romantic.
…
Chikara is the first of Daichi’s colleagues to find out.
Of course, it’s a more complicated matter than just telling him that the kid who’d started loitering around the police station is his superior’s boyfriend.
So they all sit down for some of Koushi’s favourite pancakes for breakfast one Saturday.
“Hot chocolate? At this time of the year?” One of Chikara’s slim eyebrows arches when their drinks arrive. “There is a heat wave in California.”
Koushi can tell that Chikara thinks that this is just another case, that the grey haired punk is just some victim’s relative, or somehow has something to do with Daichi’s investigation.
It’s easy to tell, from how clinically polite the cop is.
“I happen to like hot chocolate,” Koushi shrugs, grinning toothily. “All year round.”
The look of surprise that paints Chikara’s features when he’s told who Koushi actually is – well, it’s pretty priceless. Koushi regrets leaving his camera at home.
Daichi turns a little red, Ennoshita swallows a mouthful of coffee and Koushi sticks a knife in his last pancake.
It could’ve gone worse, he guesses. Koushi’s just happy that he’s not some hidden affair to be ashamed of, or some shiny trophy of a victorious conquest.
…
Daichi can’t make it for his graduation.
Koushi rationalizes it to himself, something he’s become well-practiced at, and reminds himself that Daichi’s been busy with a new case. He can’t expect Daichi to be there for him all the time – he’s his own person, after all.
(It still ends up hurting, regardless.)
Chikara shows up instead, just as the ceremony is winding down and Koushi’s heart is sinking so low it feels like he may throw up.
Koushi’s parents watch in something like a cocktail of shock and disbelief when the officer – still in full uniform – passes Koushi a giant bouquet of roses and a card butchered by Daichi’s chicken scratch.
“Congrats, kid,” Chikara’s sleepy eyes spark, somewhat, when he smiles.
…
Koushi leaves home even before red petals fade to brown.
…
Loitering around the carpark at the police station has become something like a routine, Koushi realises.
Only he doesn’t have anywhere else left to go, this time.
“Koushi.” Chikara calls. There are two other policeman with him, one with jet-black birds’ nest for hair, and they stare at him curiously. “It’s pretty late, and I don’t think Daichi’s in right now. Does he know you’re here?”
Shuffling his shoes, Koushi shakes his head.
…
Koushi stares out the window of the cruiser, and he stares out the window of the diner they stop at.
He stares at most things, nowadays – lost in thought, separated from the world. As if existing on an entirely different plane of reality.
“Talk to me, Koushi,” Chikara says, and slides a mug of hot chocolate towards Koushi. “The silence is killing me.”
Koushi stares at the mug too, lifting it to his lips and feeling the heat burn through his fingers.
A sip, a swallow, and then he’s gulping down the scalding drink like a life line.
Chikara is looking at him worriedly, and Koushi has to realise that it’s because he’s started crying.
…
“Oh, thank God,” Daichi whispers when he bursts into the diner and presses Koushi into his chest.
Koushi allows himself to relax into the familiar embrace. The two officers are talking about something, but the soft murmurs soon fade to background noise.
Thoroughly worn out, Daichi’s warmth is all it takes for Koushi to start drifting off.
…
It’s not that Koushi hates his home.
Quiet and clinical, his family never possessed the warmth his friends spoke of. His parents let him know what they expected of him, and his job had been to see that he reached the goals they’d decided for him.
Desk jobs and appropriate wives and children aren’t what Koushi wants from life, though. It’s what they want.
Koushi loves his parents, he really does.
He just wishes that they could see the world through his eyes.
…
Living with Daichi is great.
Spontaneous cuddle sessions, falling asleep together and free reign over the TV – not to mention the six packs Daichi keeps stock in the fridge.
In return, Koushi does all the chores. He washes their dishes and takes out the trash whenever they have takeout. He prepares breakfast, cleans the apartment from floor to ceiling and waters the cactus sitting atop the window sill.
There is no quiet chill, no overbearing presence.
Just Daichi and Koushi.
It’s wonderful.
…
The laundromat is whirring with life all around Koushi, but somehow, he feels a little dead inside.
Slumping down in a chair, Koushi stares at the material stretched out in his hands.
It’s one of Daichi’s work shirts, the buttoned ones with the collars that he wears off-duty. It’s a nice shirt; light blue and smelling faintly of alcohol.
But there are also red stains on the starchy collar, red stains too pink to be blood and too thick to be spilled tomato juice.
Lipstick.
…
“What?”
Chikara looks flabbergasted, and Koushi kind of envies how easy it is for him to express his emotions.
“I didn’t know who else to go to,” Koushi shrugs, and watches the policeman run his fingers over the stained material. He doesn’t say that Chikara’s the only one he can go to. “He told me he’s been busy because of a case, but I don’t know if it’s a cover-up.”
“He’s not lying,” Chikara says, frowning a little. “He has a really big case going for him, and he’s hardly in the station anymore.”
Koushi rests his cheek on his palm and sighs.
“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” Chikara continues, reaching a hand across the table to ruffle Koushi’s hair. “Daichi wouldn’t do something like that. He loves you too much.”
…
On his next laundry run, Koushi finds an earring in Daichi’s pocket.
…
Being left behind.
It’s something Koushi has come to fear, maybe to an irrational extent, and it’s intensified when he goes with Keiji to see Morisuke off at the airport.
“Take care of yourself over there, okay,” Keiji says, eyeing the shortest of the three through heavily hooded eyes.
“It won’t be the same without you,” Koushi adds. He leans in for a quick hug.
Morisuke’s eyes are a little misty, and they still have the same odd expression in them. The same expression that’s been directed at Koushi ever since Morisuke and Yuji had broken up.
There’s a warm hand on his shoulder, a fleeting silhouette of his friend embracing the future, before Koushi is watching Morisuke’s plane take off into the endless blue of the sky.
…
Koushi takes the bus straight back to Daichi’s.
His heart is pounding quickly, his head is in a mess, and, for the first time ever, Koushi is willing to admit it.
He’s scared.
The future is unknown, like a dark abyss staring straight through him. It used to be far away, further than he could have imagined.
But somehow, it’s suddenly right in front of him.
Daichi will know what to do.
He’s the light in Koushi’s life; the one person who has been there for him through thick and thin. Koushi trusts Daichi. Inexplicably. Entirely.
Daichi will know what to do.
Koushi takes the steps two at a time. By the time he reaches their front door, he’s panting hard, keys jingling noisily in hand.
“DaichI!” Koushi calls as he pushes the door open.
And then he freezes.
Daichi springs backwards, away from a woman with long, perfectly coiffed black hair. The woman regards Koushi with a slightly disdainful look, and Koushi absently notes that he’s accidentally dropped his keys.
“Koushi, I can explain-”
Koushi doesn’t hear anymore because he’s running, feet hitting the ground in time with his skyrocketing heartbeat.
Away from the woman with the red lipstick and the pierced ears. Away from the now sickening domesticity he’d adopted in an effort to play house.
Away from the man Koushi had foolishly believed would love him for the rest of their lives.
…
Koushi takes up temporary residence in one of the public parks on the other side of the city.
Honestly, he can’t even remember how he’d gotten there. Everything had been a painful blur, and all he could think to do was run.
It’s not long after, when the grey skies open to torrential rain.
Koushi doesn’t even move a muscle.
At least then no one can see him crying.
…
It takes two days for someone to find him.
Koushi has his arms wrapped around his knees when the bench creaks.
They’re both silent for a while, and then the officer lays his hat on his lap. “What happened?”
Koushi swallows, looking away. There’s something impossibly numb about the space inside his chest. “Daichi cheated on me.”
Chikara blanches. “Did you…?”
“I caught them,” Koushi nods in affirmation, no inflexion in his tone. “She’s very pretty.”
“Daichi neglected to mention that.” Chikara sounds angry. Koushi doesn’t really know why. It’s a matter of time before anyone – even Daichi – gets tired of him, after all. It shouldn’t be a surprise.
Koushi is always left behind.
He coughs roughly into his hand, and the world seems to sway on its axis.
“Hey,” Chikara is frowning, Koushi can tell from his tone. “Are you alright? You look a little-”
Koushi blinks, and then he’s suddenly being held up by strong arms.
“Holy shit, you’re burning up,” Chikara says. The hand on Koushi’s forehead is ice cold, and everything is blurring in and out of focus.
There’s a crackle of a walkie-talkie, muffled murmurings, and then Koushi hears no more.
…
Koushi wakes up to a white ceiling and an odd warmth at his bedside.
Daichi’s upper body is sprawled out on hospital linen. His head is pillowed in his arm, the other appendage resting over Koushi’s hip.
Koushi purses his lips and squashes the fondness swelling his heart.
“Koushi!” Daichi awakens with a start, Koushi’s fingers still halfway tangled in his bedhead. The rough pads of his fingers caress Koushi’s still-heated skin softly. Carefully. As if he were a treasure Daichi didn’t want to shatter.
He’s not.
He’s not anything precious.
“What’re you doing here?” Koushi asks, blatantly, and ignores the way Daichi’s expression falls. He looks around. “Actually, where is here?”
“You had a high fever. Dehydration and stress. You hadn’t eaten for two days.” Daichi says. He looks a little pained, Koushi doesn’t know what for. “I’m supposed to be looking after you, and yet…”
Koushi runs a hand through his hair. “I guess I’ll have to move out soon, huh. Don’t worry, I’ll get a job and pay you back for the hospital fees.”
“What?” Daichi’s fist is tightened around a portion of the stark white blanket. “Why would you have to move out? If it’s because of Ms. Kozume, then-”
“Oh, that’s her name?” Koushi interrupts, raising his brows. “Well, she’s very pretty. You did good.”
Daichi looks miserably confused.
Koushi continues. “You didn’t really have to sneak around with her, though. I’d have appreciated it if you-”
“I didn’t cheat on you, Koushi.” Daichi breathes. “I wouldn’t- I would never-”
“Don’t lie to me.” Koushi’s voice comes out a little harsher than he meant. His eyes are prickling, his throat closing up. He can’t help the glimmer of hope that flickers, weakly, in his chest, and if Daichi is lying – well, he won’t be able to trust him ever again. “Don’t.”
“I’m not.” Daichi is firm. Unrelenting. Koushi’s hope swells. “Ms. Kozume is just a client – her son is missing. Her case keeps getting pushed around because she always seems more interested in the cop than finding her son. When I got assigned to her case, I wanted to finish it, for good, but… Not at the cost of losing you, Koushi.”
Koushi is shaking his head, but his arms are wide open. “You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not.” Daichi repeats, slips onto the bed and gathers Koushi in his arms. “I’ll prove it to you.”
Daichi’s bear hugs are the best. Have always been, will always be.
Koushi shivers, feels a tear slide down his cheek.
“You better.”
{End}