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„Right here in the heart of Okinawa, we are going live, witnessing another miracle courtesy of the Sakurayashiki family... ” The reporter rambled on and on. Kaoru tried to tune him out as he prepared the ink — to no avail. Stupid fucking cameras made his skin crawl.
„...This calligraphy technique has been passed down through generations and is said to possess the power to grant wishes…”
‘We do not grant wishes, you insolent fool,’ Kaoru thought to himself.
„...To the people of Okinawa, the lines of ink on paper are not mere art: they are a link to parallel universes, magical archives full of spells and arcane knowledge!”
‘Now that is just bullshit, who is this guy?’
Kaoru kept his composure, if just barely.
„With every brushstroke, the Sakurayashiki family’s calligraphy is believed to carry the ability to change destinies, alter the course of fate, and make the impossible…” The reporter paused for dramatic effect. ”...possible! The art is revered, almost worshipped by the locals who seek the family’s goodwill in hopes that their dreams will be realised, their desires fulfilled!”
The calligrapher could only hide an ugly grin behind a lock of hair falling over the side of his face. ‘My ancestry and goodwill in one sentence? Impressive lapse of judgement, mister TV bigshot.’
Kaoru’s thoughts were once again disturbed as the reporter approached a random spectator from the front row. As if striking up a conversation with the locals was a form of entertainment in itself. Fucking mainland dork. It was difficult to brush off the completely absurd conversation that transpired.
„Aah, you see, that’s my oldest daughter,” the lady from the first row exclaimed jovially, as she elbowed a younger woman beside her and winked at the reporter. „Still unmarried, you know?”
„Mom, please.” The girl’s voice trembled as she went scarlet with shame, feeling all those cameras zeroing in on her face.
„But she wants to be a baker!”
„Pâtissière, mom…”, the girl moaned, to the audience’s satisfaction. Even some cameramen chuckled.
So fucking unprofessional. Kaoru scrunched his eyebrows. Of course, that useless fuck with a microphone was enjoying this. He didn’t even try to placate the woman as she kept berating her daughter for not choosing a career in medicine or law.
„Look at Sakurayashiki-sensei. So dignified! You should have tried harder in school, Mafuyu!”
The calligrapher cleared his throat emphatically.
„If you’ll allow me, I think it’s time for the presentation, don’t you think?”
The reporter’s face lit up like Christmas morning, eyes sparkling with excitement for what, at least in his head, was supposed to happen in a moment.
„Of course, Sakurayashiki-sensei!”
Big brush Shodo was like a dance. Intimate, even with dozens of spectators watching live and thousands observing on TV. Kaoru checked if his sleeves were properly bound and picked up his brush. The audience probably would have fawned at the sight of one of his less-favoured brushes, those gifted to him by the rich old fucks he often did commissions for. Ivory and jade handles, fox hair bristles. But those materials are cold and foreign to the touch; they can’t soak up intent all that well.
The brush he was handling now was unassuming, made of comfortably pliant bamboo and resilient weasel hair, capable of creating sharp, sure lines. Just what he needed.
十
Kaoru moved like turbulent waters, dragging the bristles over washi paper.
人
He still felt a pang of frustration and pity as he filled the paper with ink, lines a tiny bit sharper and less dignified than usual.
十
For just a mere second in between strokes his eyes bore into the woman who had unfortunately been given a microphone moments before and a mouth to speak when she was born.
色
Kaoru could feel the Intent flowing through his hands, through the trusted bamboo, through the tips of the weasel hair and onto the paper.
The full proverb appeared on the big screen behind him, beautifully animated by Carla.
十人十色
He bowed to the audience and gave them his best customer service smile as they clapped in awe.
And then that useless fuck approached him again, pushing a microphone in front of his face. „Ah, sensei, could you tell us something about this piece?”
„Of course. I chose jūnin toiro - ten persons, ten colours. The meaning behind the proverb is simply ‘to each their own’. I believe everyone can flourish on the path they find for themselves. We may not always understand, but we should refrain from judgment.”
Everybody hummed and hawed politely, like they hadn’t been laughing moments before at the young girl’s expense. Fucking bastards. Kaoru gripped the brush handle tighter and forced himself to smile even brighter.
One person stood still, though, with glassy eyes staring blankly at the AI display. The target of Kaoru’s Intent.
The Sakurayashiki family did not grant wishes. And they sure as hell weren’t linked to parallel universes. But Kaoru could still feel the soft, warm remains of magic in his fingertips as Mafuyu dragged her pensive, stupored mother away.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
“We’re closed!” Kojiro yelled out, slightly exasperated, as the bell above the Sia La Luce entrance doors chimed.
“Then learn to lock the fucking door, dumbass gorilla!” Kaoru yelled back and seated himself in his unofficially designated chair at the bar.
“Oh, it’s you. I thought you wouldn’t be coming today.” The chef huffed as he came from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the front of his apron.
“Why do you say that?” Kaoru frowned in dismay, yet Kojiro just laid an empty wineglass in front of him, unbothered, as if everything about Kaoru was just obvious to him.
“You usually get all exhausted after doing the thing.”
“The thing?”
“The thing.” Kojiro shrugged his stupidly attractive arms. “You try to act all cold and aloof, sometimes straight up mean, as if you crawled out of the pits of hell like the fucking gremlin you are...”
”Excuse you?!”
“...but then you do your thing, and it’s always some weirdass nice gesture towards somebody you don’t even know. And the whole shebang tires you out. It has always been like that. Besides, acting all cute in front of cameras makes you cranky, and you usually shut yourself in afterwards.”
„Being nice does NOT tire me out. I am a naturally kind person,” Kaoru spoke through clenched teeth.
Kojiro guffawed.
“Fuck. You.”
„Calm down, princess. Lemme fix you some pasta. Carbonara and Ciro Picariello okay?”
Kaoru scrunched his nose like a petulant child.
„No, I want a Pinot Grigio.”
He could hear Kojiro mumble something akin to ‘So fucking demanding’ as the burly man left again, presumably to prepare his favourite food and wine.
That gave Kaoru a moment to overthink what they had for the millionth time. Damn Kojiro for having known him for twenty years now. Damn him for being so observant. But then again, it seems the dumb gorilla still hasn’t caught on to his best friend being so helplessly and miserably in love with him for so long. So maybe the fucker wasn’t as observant as he thought.
A hot plate of carbonara and the sound of wine being poured into his glass brought him back down to earth.
“So,” Kojiro clinked his own glass against Kaoru’s and leaned in, expectantly, „How did the live thing go?”
Kaoru averted his gaze.
“I’ve put my Intent on a major bitch,” he mumbled between gulps of Pinot Grigio. It was good. And expensive. Damn Kojiro.
“Oh?” The chef raised his eyebrows. “And what did she do to piss you off? You usually encourage people to do good things. ‘Fall seven times, get up eight times’ and all that jazz.”
‘Fuck,’ Kaoru thought, eloquently.
Damned Gigolo quoted his favourite proverb. He remembered.
‘Why is he so fucking good to me. Fucking bastard.’
Maybe it was the pining, maybe it was the wine and exhaustion already getting to him.
“Doesn’t matter”, he huffed. „Tell me about your day instead.”
Better to give the stage to Kojiro before he said something stupid and irreversible.
Thankfully his friend took the hint and went on a tangent about needing to hire another pair of hands in Sia La Luce. Kaoru offhandedly mentioned how the new up-and-coming S skater actually asked him for a job the other day.
“His penmanship on the curriculum vitae was so fucking atrocious, though. I couldn’t take him as my assistant.”
Kojiro laughed.
“Poor guy, but I’m sure he found a part-time job somewhere else. Gotta make that sweet money just to spend it all on skateboarding equipment, right?”
To that Kaoru smiled softly.
“Just like we used to.”
A faint crease appeared between Kojiro’s brows. „Before Adam got us those fancy boards.”
It was like the temperature in the room dropped about fifty degrees.
Kaoru thought they had a silent agreement: no talking about Adam. Apparently Kojiro did not get the memo and pressed on.
“I guess he felt the need to bribe us into friendship when we started questioning the injuries of people he would skate against.” Kojiro swirled his wine glass absentmindedly. “Though, maybe we could have said something sooner. My fault, not yours, considering the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” Kaoru felt his anger rising as he racked his brain, trying to figure out what Kojiro meant. Did he really think so lowly of Kaoru, to compare him to Ainosuke’s gang of worshipping cronies back in the day?
“You think I was too weak to say something?” He banged his fist on the bar counter.
“Whoa, pinky, of course not. You were the first to actually confront him properly.” Kojiro said as he raised his palms up in a placating gesture. “I just thought…nevermind. Forget about it.”
Fuck Kojiro for making him feel seen and loved, only to throw this one, singular, shameful lapse of judgment in his face.
“I'm going home.” Kaoru muttered icily.
He barely heard Kojiro calling after him as he shut the doors to Sia La Luce on his way out with so much force that the windowpanes rattled.
🌸☕🌸☕🌸
The only thing getting fucked was Kaoru’s heart, but even so, making the path from Sia la Luce to his apartment felt like a walk of shame.
He contemplated just flunking himself into bed, ditching his 7-step Korean face cleansing routine completely. He kept coming back to the conversation, repeating parts of it in his head, over and over until he felt the Intent scratching at his fingertips, demanding.
Kaoru entered the tatami-padded room and lit his favourite artisanal candles that he had brought from Iceland as a souvenir. Kojiro was on that trip with him, of course, like every other. The dumbass wanted to keep a pretty rock he picked up from the path close to their hotel. The airport security flagged the rock as potentially belonging to one of their many protected coastal areas and took it away, threatening to fine Kojiro for „smuggling it”. That memory never failed to make them both chuckle. Next came the paperweights. Kaoru positioned the jade tigers on the washi paper sheet to keep it flat. Another gift from Kojiro, given to Kaoru right after he inherited both the studio and the magic from his mother.
„You’re gonna be super successful, cinnamon stick. With lotsa commissions from rich pompous fucks. Use those babies often.”
He utilised a little bit more strength than needed, as the inkstone trembled under the relentless grind of his sumi stick. Rich, dense black ink swirled like a gathering storm. This was supposed to be slow, meditative, meant to let one's mind settle. Tonight seemed as far from this concept as possible. Kaoru shook his head, frustrated, and went to pick up the brush. Goat hair and lacquered wood. He lifted the brush carefully, inspecting the tip for split hairs, then dipped it in ink, watching the tip swell slightly with the black liquid.
The paper did not deserve this anger. Kaoru exhaled through his nose sharply as the Intent around him crackled.
‘How dare he leave me. Without a warning.’
Kaoru drew the first stroke with way more force than necessary, and droplets spilt over the tatami. It should have been elegant, measured. Instead, the line cut downward like a blade, too fast and too heavy. His jaw tightened as he carved another and another stroke into the paper. Red eyes flashed across his mind. One character down.
‘Like a coward.’
A drop of ink struck his sleeve. He stared at it as if it had betrayed him personally. The next characters flowed in a storm, as his movements grew faster and more reckless. He tried to think of Adam, tried to put his intent into the man, make him rethink his ways, stop endangering others. He thought of the day Kojiro followed Adam, trying to copy his trick on a particularly steep road. The fucking dork bailed, spraining both his wrist and ankle.
‘Reckless asshole. Had he even noticed how badly it broke me?’
With a sharp hiss, he dragged the brush through the washi, completing the last character. He felt the Intent flowing through his fingertips. He could feel himself relive all the immense hurt he felt when he had been left alone, abandoned without much of a warning.
‘And we never talked about this afterwards. He came back and acted as if nothing happened!’
Kaoru set the brush down with trembling hands. His breath hitched as he stared at his creation.
悔 悛 努 力
Kai-sen Do-ryoku.
Repent and make efforts.
Kaoru could feel his strength leaving him. Two spells in a day was way overdoing it. Ink clung faintly to his finger as he slumped sideways. The tatami beneath him smelled of straw and dust and felt cool against his flushed cheek. The paper he had laboured over lay scattered like fallen leaves around his sprawled form. The last thing he thought of was crying at the airport, before exhaustion claimed him.
☕☕☕☕☕
The next day had Kaoru swamped with commissions. Thankfully, it was an S night, so he persevered, thinking about the moment he would be able to unwind, bicker with Kojiro to make things normal between them without actually talking about their feelings, and maybe arrange a beef.
From the moment he arrived at Crazy Rock, Kaoru could tell Kojiro was behaving oddly. He would wink at his screeching fans, send a boyish smile their way, but then…nothing else. He wouldn’t let anyone hang off his arm tonight.
Kaoru always noticed the girls, because staring at Kojiro was his usual pastime at S, whether he liked it or not. Kojiro was a powerful magnet, constantly pulling Kaoru into his orbit. And most nights he would leave with one, sometimes even two, women.
Kaoru wouldn’t admit he was eavesdropping, but earlier he could clearly hear him reject one of his fans with a gentle ‘not today, baby’, and then that damned gigolo locked eyes with him and smiled, rushing towards him. Since then, he wouldn’t leave his side.
“Ah, Kaoru-”
“Don’t use that name here, idiot!”
Kojiro narrowly dodged a kick to the shin, laughing.
“I forgot to fuel up my bike, asshole. Give me a ride back? I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
Kaoru scrunched his nose.
“Muscle-brained gorilla, there’s a blinking red indicator for low fuel, you know? Besides, you hate my driving.”
And then Kojiro leaned even closer, putting a burly arm over him.
“I’ve been feeling waaaay too comfortable with my mortality lately, why not take a risk?”
“One complaint about Carla’s driving assistance, and I’m shoving you into the traffic.”
“Fuck, pinky, it’s in your car too?”
“She, not it,” he grumbled. “And you owe me. We’re driving to Sia.”
„Yes, sir,” Kojiro did a mock salute.
They did not go to the restaurant in the end. Kojiro instructed him to park closer to the back door.
„Where are you going?”
„It’s almost midnight, and I’m not making a mess in the kitchen. I’ll fix you a plate of something tasty upstairs.”
Upstairs.
The apartment above the restaurant.
Where Kojiro lived.
Where everything smelled like him, and where he, presumably, brought all his conquests.
That was dangerous territory.
‘You’ve been here a hundred times. Get a grip.’
“Spare toothbrush in the bathroom, your old clothes in the same place as always.” Kojiro yelled from the kitchen. Kaoru barely heard him over the sound of pans banging against each other. “Thank God you have no wall-to-wall neighbours. I cannot imagine hearing all that in the middle of the night.”
‘Not to mention the women,' his brain added, unhelpfully.
“Just take the fucking shower, princess. You're usually in a better mood when the S grime’s off!”
“Just so you know, If there's a twelve-in-one cleaning product in there, I'm pouring it all down the drain!” Kaoru yelled back.
He couldn't help but spend his time under the shower pondering about how well their lives intermingled as a bottle of his own expensive conditioner, that he probably left here months ago, glared at him accusingly from the cosmetics shelf.
Kaoru got lost in his thoughts for a bit too long. As he reemerged from the bathroom in a puff of steam, Kojiro was already setting their plates in front of the TV, some shitty action movie paused on the title screen. He threw a glance Kaoru’s way and chuckled.
“Holy shit, pinky. Did you use all that scalding water to remind yourself of hell? You miss it that much?”
Kaoru grinned.
“No, I was planning to make you go broke. Fuck you and fuck your water bill.”
“You're already making me go broke with all the wine you're chugging at my expense.” Kojiro whined as he poured both of them a glass of something good. Hypocrite.
They spent the next hour complaining about the quality of the movie. It was so bad that Kojiro muted it and only let it play in the background so Kaoru could keep mocking the special effects.
Kojiro just lay down on the couch, pulling a squirming Kaoru down with him, his chest to Kojiro’s back, as the latter kept rambling about a potential new hire in Sia La Luce. Kaoru grinned slyly as his friend described a young woman, well-versed in European desserts and enthusiastic about properly studying Italian pastries under Kojiro’s guidance. Somehow, he had no doubts about who that was. Thinking about Mafuyu-san was healthier than thinking about how being manhandled into this current position made him feel.
Soon, Kaoru felt himself sober up. He didn't drink much in the first place, anticipating his own need to flee. They've spent almost two hours talking like this. Just as he tried to pull himself up on his elbow, a strong arm across his stomach stopped him from moving. Kojiro was definitely way drunker than he was.
“Spend the night?”
“Kojiro, I’m not one of your girls.”
“I know, I know. Just...stay, please.” Kaoru could never win against the rasp in his voice.
So they stayed on the couch, and judging by Kojiro’s sleeping position and the fact that they are not getting any younger, he would absolutely feel that in his neck tomorrow. Serves him right.
🌸☕🌸☕🌸
Kaoru didn’t sleep a wink.
Kojiro was...cuddling him. By the end of that shitty movie, Kaoru once again let a conked-out Kojiro manhandle him. The man’s chest was now serving as a pillow, his arms enveloping Kaoru’s back.
His thoughts once again wandered to that early morning flight, seven years ago.
Kojiro was truly a coward. He avoided Kaoru’s inquiries about his plans for post graduation, and then he told him of his fucking move across the globe approximately twelve hours before it happened. Gave him even less time to cope than Adam did when he fucked off to America.
Kaoru still arrived at the airport, like the hopeless fool he was, and Kojiro wouldn’t even properly look at him. Like he didn’t want him there. Threw a silly joke his way, no hug, no proper goodbye, nothing. Kaoru could only stare at Kojrio’s back as he marched towards the gates.
Somewhere around five in the morning, it hit him.
The intent.
He didn’t think of Adam for more than a second last night. All his drunken anger pushed the Intent onto Kojiro. That’s why he was so clingy, attentive, wouldn’t leave his side, and hell, even ditched his groupies.
‘Fuck’
Kaoru detangled himself from Kojiro’s grasp, careful not to wake him. He briefly considered writing a note, but that would truly feel like a one-night-stand kind of thing, and he had already messed up enough. He drove away in panic.
🌸☕🌸☕🌸
Kaoru’s sweet nightmare continued the following morning.
The day started with Kojiro sending him a weirdly cold, awkward morning message.
[Not even a goodbye?]
Kaoru stared at the text for what felt like hours.
Normally, if he quietly slipped out in the morning after a night of drinking and completely platonically falling asleep on Kojiro’s couch together, which happened way too often, his friend would make a raunchy joke about it. He would poke fun at Kaoru for committing a ‘pump and dump’, saying ‘you got no bedside manners, four-eyes’ and ‘figures you don’t get much game’. It would dig a thorn into Kaoru’s side.
‘Yeah, some of us don’t fuck everything that moves,’ he thought bitterly, every time it happened.
Kaoru locked himself in his office and focused on commissions to make those ugly thoughts go away. That proved to be mildly efficient until around three, when somebody rapidly knocked on his door, before opening it unceremoniously.
“I’m sorry, Sakurayashiki-san,” his assistant yelled out from the lobby, flailing her arms helplessly. “Nanjo-san wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Kojiro entered his office, grinning sheepishly.
“I brought lunch. Bet you haven’t eaten since morning.”
Kaoru blanked out. “I...had tea at noon.”
“That’s not a meal! Also, did you get enough sleep last night?”
No ‘four-eyed idiot’. Not even a joke about his ‘ugly ass eyebags’. Just making sure he ate and slept. It was too sweet to be sincere, Kaoru knew. Kojiro didn’t mean anything by it. All those sweet gestures must have been the Intent’s doing, and the Intent was growing stronger over time if it wasn't resolved.
„Stop smothering me,” he growled, more angry with himself than with his best friend. “Get out.”
The atmosphere in the room could be cut with a knife. Kojiro dropped the styrofoam containers on Kaoru’s work desk, turned his back on him and lingered by the door, pensive. He didn't leave though. Instead, he shut the door from the inside, locking them away from the prying eyes and ears of Kaoru’s assistant.
“I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you around.” Kojiro’s voice broke through the silence, all those years of restraint snapping at once. He turned back towards Kaoru, but wouldn't look him in the eye properly, his eyes swirling with a mixture of longing, fear, and relief.
“Let me stay close to you.”
“You don’t mean that, though!” Kaoru gasped out. „It’s the fucking Intent, Kojiro!”
They both froze.
“Did you put your spell on me?”
“Yes? No.” Kaoru stammered out. „It was meant for Adam-”
This time, a flicker of pain ran through Kojiro’s eyes, raw and unguarded.
“I...thought you were over him.”
“What do you mean ‘over him‘? I wanted him to realise he hurt us! Left without making amends to all the skaters he injured! Then he comes back and makes a mess again!” Kaoru growled out.
“Then why am I like this?”
„I...don’t know.”
Their gazes finally met. Kojiro’s hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles pale.
“I left you too. For Italy. Is that what this is about?”
“No, no,” Kaoru huffed out a frustrated breath. “You did the right thing. The culinary school was prestigious as fuck and so hard to get into. You deserved to take the opportunity and grow.”
“Yeah, growing was part of it,” Kojiro murmured, dragging a hand over his face in exasperation. “You aren’t this clueless, are you? I had to take that flight to get over you.”
Kaoru stared at Kojiro in wide-eyed shock.
“Get over me?”
The other let out a mirthless laugh.
“Princess, you might be super slow with grasping your own emotions, but you were clearly in love with that prick. I had to hold you...fuck, I rocked you like a baby as you cried when he left. Then I got the admission letter. It felt like the perfect-” he struggled to find his words.
“...escape?” Kaoru choked out. „From me?”
“No, Kaoru,” Kojiro grabbed him by his arms. “I didn’t want to escape from you. Never from you. I had to spare my own feelings, I guess.”
Kaoru clicked his teeth.
“And then you fucked half the women of Italy. And then you came back 3 years later and fucked half the women of Okinawa.”
“And that still didn’t help me get you out of my head.” Kojiro shut him down quickly, his eyes drilled into Kaoru’s. “There you go. That’s the whole truth. Will you finally believe me when I say that I love you? That I’ve loved you since you punched Hikaru for taking my sweets?”
“Kojiro,” Kaoru’s eyes widened, “That was in sixth grade.”
“Yes, it was.”
For a heartbeat, they just stood there, guarded but close enough to feel each other’s breaths, Kojiro’s words still lingering in the air. Kaoru huffed out a shaky laugh of disbelief and then leaned in slowly, still giving the other every chance to pull away.
“I think I’ve loved you since you braided my hair for me for the first time, second grade of high school.” Kaoru shivered. He could feel the familiar, quiet whisper of Intent breaking and dissolving into nothing.
Kojiro met him halfway, pressing his lips against Kaoru’s desperately and full of hunger, all clashing teeth and desperate hands fisting into the fabric of his kimono.
“Told you,” he panted, caging Kaoru against his work desk, “You’re way too slow with your own feelings. Emotionally constipated prick.” He held him as close as possible. After a good while, the kiss slowed and softened. Kaoru was the first to break it completely and hide his face under Kojiro’s chin, embarrassed.
“Sorry for forcing you into saying all that. I would never cast Intent on you on purpose. I guess somebody had to be honest, and it wasn’t going to be me.”
“Nah, don’t sweat it, princess, you did good.” Kojiro murmured, setting his chin on the crown of Kaoru’s head. “It only made me admit to what I already felt. If it brought us together, I don’t mind your freaky magic.”
Kaoru chuckled.
„I think I subconsciously asked it to make you cling to me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of leaving your side. Never again.” Kojiro sneaked his arms around him, pressing a hand to the small of Kaoru’s back.
„By the way…”
The calligraphist frowned.
„Okay, I don’t like your tone already-”
„Would you ever consider using Intent on me in bed?”
And fuck, if that wasn’t ridiculously hot.
„I’ve changed my mind. We’re breaking up. And I’m going to destroy every single brush I own, just for good measure.”