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The week had started off strong, with Kaoru’s annual meeting with his parents. It was as awkward as always, the food had just as little character as last time, and all of their conversation was small talk.
“How’s work?”
“Any holidays soon?”
“Found anyone new yet?”
Yet. Always the yet.
Are you dating anyone yet? Have you married someone yet? Are you in love yet?
And Kaoru’s answer was always no, I haven’t. Because dating wasn’t on the cards, not yet, not for him.
Not until he got over this thing.
But then the conversation took a bit of a turn.
“Listen, Kaoru,” his mother started, placing her chopsticks down and clasping her hands together in front of her, and he suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. “Your father and I have been talking, and we think it would be in your best interest to get married soon.”
“… married? I’m not even dating anyone!”
“Which is why we’ve set up some dates for you with some family friends’ sons—“
“Absolutely not. No.” Kaoru immediately bit back, standing from his chair and glaring at his parents. “I am not getting married simply because you feel it is traditional to do so.”
“It’s not about tradition, Kaoru—“
“Yes, it is, no matter how you spin it this is in your best interest, not mine.”
“For years you’ve been holed up in that house and only speaking to that robot of yours and Kojiro.”
“And my students, and you, and my skating friends—“
“It’s not the same, and you know it isn’t.” His father cut in, holding up a placating hand that only made Kaoru move to his knees from his cushion, moving to stand as his parents exchanged worried glances. “We’re just concerned that you’re holding off for… someone.”
“I’m not holding off,” Kaoru scowled as he stood, balling his hands into fists and pacing away, hovering on the other side of the room in an attempt to gather his thoughts, “Holding off would imply I have a chance— I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I want to learn to love someone new.”
“You deserve love, Kaoru, love that Kojiro—“
“Don’t put his name in your mouth.” Kaoru immediately scowled, giving them both a sharp look over his shoulder that shut them both up once more. “I can make my own decisions.”
“Yes, which is why you’re not obligated to go on second dates with any of them,” his mother continued, and Kaoru felt his argument crumbling before him, “For us, Kaoru? If you don’t like them, you don’t need to see them again.”
And he’d ran out of reasons to say no.
If they didn’t mean anything, and promised to pay, then it was basically an excuse for free food.
And everyone knew, Kojiro knew, he would do anything for free food.
So he sighed and reluctantly agreed.
The first date they’d set up was two days afterwards with an Enomoto Masuo, whose main interests were fishing and playing GTA. Their entire conversations were small talk, par the few genuinely enamoured compliments he gave Kaoru.
At the end of the night, he asked Kaoru if he would marry him.
So he left without another word.
The next date was the night immediately after, so Kaoru found himself messaging Kojiro yet again saying he would be late and wouldn’t need food, to which he got a concerned ‘everythin ok??’ in return, which only made him smile. Of course Kojiro’s immediate response would be checking in on him—
“Uh, Sakurayashiki-san?”
And of course Kaoru shouldn’t be talking to the love of his life while on a date with another man, who was giving him an odd look from across the way. This man was Amano Yuto, an accountant from Hokkaido, presently based in Okinawa for work reasons.
That’s what he claimed, anyway, but judging by how much of the conversation was taken up by Amano talking about Kaoru’s work, about how beautiful and impressive it was, he had a feeling the man had jumped on the first flight at the hint he could score a date with the Sakurayashiki Kaoru. Only when he said, “Any man would be lucky to marry you, I’d be so lucky.” Did Kaoru stand and leave, not even bothering to offer to pay the bill.
Kaoru honestly hardly remembered the name of the date he had on the Friday. His hair was dyed blonde and his eyes had been a plain brown, and he dressed in a traditional yukata for their traditional meal. But as Kaoru sipped his wine, all he could think about was Kojiro, no matter where the conversation went.
It was after a few glasses he found himself saying, “You never had a chance.”
“… excuse me?”
“M’ parents,” Kaoru ventured, licking his lips and looking at the man across from him, who somehow looked more curious than put-off. It only served to anger him that bit more, “They know I’m hun’ up over th— my best friend, have been, for years.”
“So,” the man started, resting his chin on his palm and smiling smally back at him. For a moment, Kaoru could believe he had also been peer-pressured into the situation, judging by the relief in his posture at the idea Kaoru already had someone. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“Well, he’s straight, far t’ outta my league, and he’s always around women.”
“Surely he’s always around you, too?”
At that Kaoru laughed, a sound that was sour and old, out of date and rusty. “It’s not the same.”
“My parents,” the man ventured, running a finger around the rim of his own glass, “They wanted me to meet you to explore the idea of marriage, but…”
“Not happening.” Kaoru immediately turned down, to the surprise of neither of them. “It would be my third refusal this week.”
“If this… best friend of yours happened to ask,” his date continued, sipping his wine before pulling the glass back down, blinking languidly before resting his chin back on his palm, “What would you say?”
“Yes,” Kaoru replied, “In a heartbeat.”
To the surprise of no one.
“Call him.” The man said suddenly, and Kaoru wanted to say no. He wanted to say, ‘no, this is our date, might as well do it right while we’re here’, but his features were so sincere, and he looked genuinely excited for the first time that night, and—
So Kaoru took out his phone, opened the app and clicked the most recent contact, hitting call before he could back out.
Of course Kojiro picked up in two rings, so Kaoru put the phone on speaker and held it out a little, the man across from him leaning in. “Kaoru? Is everything okay? This was your third date this week, you’re probably exhausted from everything, you know? I can come over to yours if— hold on, are you still there?”
“Kojiro,” Kaoru giggled, grinning into the phone as the line went silent, the time still ticking over by the second, “This man, uh—“
“Nakatani-san.”
“Nakatani-san is super nice, has great taste in food. Plus he wasn’t like that guy last night— god he was bad.”
Nakatani looked up then, raising a questioning eyebrow before whispering, loud enough for Kojiro to hear, “What happened with him?”
So Kaoru replied in the same whisper, “He flew six hours just to ask me to marry him. He never had a chance.” He replied, repeating his earlier phrase, Kojiro still quiet on the other side. “Anyway, uh, we’re wrappin’ up so I wondered if you could come pick us up, uh, I’m a lil’ drunk.”
And Kojiro sighed, a sound so eternally tired that Kaoru’s heart ached a bit. Was Kojiro getting tired of him? Did he hate when Kaoru asked for help? Did he figure it out and feel disgusted that Kaoru would ever feel that way?
Before Kojiro could reply, Kaoru said, “Don’t worry about it, act’lly, I know ‘s late an all—“
“No, no, I’ll come pick you both up. Where does, uh, Nakatomi—“
“Nakatani.”
“Where does Nakatani live?” Kojiro almost gritted out, and if Kaoru wasn’t so drunk he might’ve wondered why he sounded so upset; drunk Kaoru, as always, chalked it up to being a burden. Drinking with other people always worsened his anxiety, but drinking with Kojiro? Somehow he always found he was okay.
“Kanekadan,” Nakatani replied, Kojiro mumbling out a quiet agreement as some shuffling ensued on the other end.
“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen, hang tight, don’t do anything stupid.”
And Kojiro was.
He showed up exactly fifteen minutes later and ushered them out of their seats, Kaoru clutching Kojiro’s bicep for support (totally, he’d say he was having trouble walking because of his accident if Kojiro asked, which he never did) as Nakatani watched, slack-jawed.
So Kaoru glared at him, and he backed off, shrugging before walking behind them. Of course he then got in the back seat before Kaoru could even offer the front, so Kaoru ended up sat beside Kojiro, complaining the entire way to Kanekadan about his parents and the dates— but Nakatani was fine.
Because they were in the same position. Because Nakatani didn’t try to convince him to go on another date, to go any further. Because Nakatani knew why, and understood it without missing a beat.
Then he left, and it was just the two of them in the car. But Kojiro didn’t move, just tapping the wheel in consideration.
“What?” Kaoru asked, as subtle as always.
“You liked him.”
Kaoru didn’t dislike him.
“I guess?”
“So… why didn’t you go back with him?”
“Back… where?”
“Whatever, never mind,” Kojiro grumbled, starting the car up again and driving off without saying anything else, so Kaoru shrugged it off and let himself lean his head against the window, watch the cars drive past and the streetlamps pass.
And, some time between then and the next morning, Kaoru fell asleep. How he got from the car to Kojiro’s bed, he couldn’t say; his best guess would be moving himself, but he couldn’t quite recall waking up.
Maybe he was just that drunk.
Thankfully, it was S that Saturday, so no dates had been arranged—Kaoru’s parents were fully aware he did something on Saturday nights, but had never cared enough to ask what. And it was no surprise that he happened to skate in beside Kojiro, who shoved him with a smirk, the crowd already gathering around them.
“You better not be off your game tonight, Blossom.”
“I have no reason to be,” Kaoru huffed as he flicked his ponytail back over his shoulder, smirking just as easily back (not that it was visible beneath his mask, but he knew Kojiro could sense it, which was enough), “I’m in perfect form.”
Of course he wasn’t, because he’d been horrifically hungover all morning and afternoon, the only thing getting him through being the ibuprofen Kojiro gave him, both that morning and evening.
“Then you will be fit enough for a beef against the best challenger at S, yes?” Kojiro continued, leaning in a little closer and only urging Kaoru to do the same, levelling his glare out a little more. He could feel Kojiro’s breaths ghost his lips even through the fabric, and it was almost too much. Almost because Kaoru had learned to compartmentalise, to pack his every feeling about Kojiro into a neat little box to mull over whenever he got the chance, and whenever he wasn’t with the man himself.
Which, honestly, wasn’t often.
If this best friend of yours happened to ask, what would you say?
Kojiro continued to smile, speeding up a little as they continued down the entrance, his eyes sparkling under the lamplights and his hair a little sweaty at the base of his neck from the summer heat encasing them, a single trickle falling down his chest and over one of his pecs.
“Yes,” Kaoru replied in a heartbeat, Kojiro only smiling brighter.
Kojiro loved their beefs, more than either of them would ever be able to admit. It was a chance for them to be competitive in another way, other than the usual biting words or small wins, a field they were level on, an equal ground they’d never had before it.
It was always Kaoru was academic, Kojiro wasn’t.
It was always Kojiro was more practical, Kaoru preferred critical thinking.
It was never Joe is a better skater, or Cherry is a better skater, because even the statistics had them dead even.
It was a challenge because there was never a clear winner, it was purely up to them, not talent, not chance, but them.
“What are the stakes?”
“No stakes,” Kojiro scoffed, spinning his board to a stop at the start line, Kaoru following suit, watching him curiously; because this was weird, there were always stakes.
I win, I get a free carbonara.
I win, you wear trousers for a whole week.
Silly things, things that didn’t mean much at all in the grand scheme of things, things that didn’t matter if there were there.
So why did their absence suddenly mean something?
Just as Kaoru was mulling this over, Kojiro walked over and leaned down, cupping the side of his mouth with his hand before confessing, in a low and somehow pained voice, “I just want to have you all to myself, just for a few minutes, if that’s okay.”
Every nerve on Kaoru’s body suddenly stood on end.
That was an odd thing to say.
Right?
“Then a few minutes you’ll get,” Kaoru huffed, not able to formulate any other answer, Kojiro smiling a little easier than before and adjusting his stance at the start line, Kaoru readying himself beside him.
Sometimes a few minutes were all they needed, and Kaoru would always be more than happy to oblige.
“Cherry! That race was awesome!” Reki called at the finish line as Kaoru approached them, Kojiro still sulking as he trudged his way back a little further behind, already getting roped into a hug by one of his fangirls who was very obviously rubbing her face against his chest. And then Kaoru promptly looked away, because he should not be watching Kojiro of all people. “I knew you were gonna win!”
“No you didn’t Slime,” Miya scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he rolled his eyes, Reki pouting at his words, “You kept changing your opinion every five seconds.”
“No I didn’t—“
“Yes you did!” Miya squawked, waving his arms around almost in distress before turning back to Kaoru, smiling a little despite his obvious attempt to stamp it down. “I had your back the whole way Cherry— Langa had his bets on Joe.”
“I’m not surprised,” Kaoru scoffed, looking back at the man as he held his hands up, another woman on his other side now also hugging him as he very obviously tried to get away, flushing at the attention anyway, “I wasn’t on my best game today, I’m more surprised he didn’t win.”
“Did something happen at work?”
“Uh, what?”
“Or at home?” Reki chipped in, Miya nodding as Reki gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth, “Oh my god, did you and Joe have an argument?”
“Wh— where are you even getting these ideas from?”
“Well,” Miya cut in, tapping his chin like he was a character in a film thinking really hard, looking up at the rusty roof, “Couples fight sometimes— my mum said people argue more after they got married, but they always resolve it in the end.”
Married.
There it was again, that word, that idea that suddenly felt so foreign to him. Even the kids seemed to be in on whatever joke the universe was playing on him that week.
So Kaoru took a deep breath, glanced back over at Kojiro who had turned away but was attempting to walk backwards towards them, and looked back at the three kids, who blinked back at him. “We’re not married.”
“You’re not?” Reki asked, at the same time Langa asked, “Why not?”
“No, we’re not, because Ko— Joe is— he doesn’t like me in that way.”
And Langa furrowed his brows again, looking behind Kaoru at who he assumed was Kojiro, seeming to be calculating something. “He doesn’t?”
“No, he—“
“Hey guys!” Kojiro shouted, slinging a triumphant arm around Kaoru’s shoulders before turning to grin at him, his face dangerously close to Kaoru’s own, close enough for Kaoru to see those familiar garnet strands and strings in his eyes, sparkling as they tended to. “What are we talking about?”
Before any of them could say anything, Kaoru replied, “About how pathetic you are for losing,” Kaoru scoffed, refusing to acknowledge the hold Kojiro had around him, Miya levelling him with an unimpressed stare.
“Ah, my boy Langa would never undermine me like that,” Kojiro laughed, shaking his head before pulling away, arm moving from Kaoru’s shoulders and slipping through his tied hair, eventually falling to Kojiro’s own hip. “But I did lose, fair and square.”
“Well, Cherry did say he was off his game, so it was kind of unfair in your favour,” Reki mumbled, trying to puzzle it out in his head as he turned back to Kaoru, “Are you sick?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Kaoru grumbled, picking Carla up from the floor and holding her close to his side, looking at Kojiro before looking back at the kids, “Are any of you beefing tonight?”
“Nope,” Miya replied, grinning, because whenever they weren’t racing they were practicing. But then the smile dropped, eyes caculating once again. “You’re going home already?”
Even Langa seemed upset by this, pouting as Reki gaped beside him. “You just got here.” Was Langa’s response, which was fair. It was a bit of a ways to come for one race, but Kaoru—
It wasn’t even the hangover that was the problem.
It was the overarching overwhelm that came with the idea of marriage, of people assuming he was married or assuming he needed to be. Marriage wouldn’t even be that alarming of an idea if Kojiro was the one he was marrying—
Maybe that was the problem.
Maybe the problem wasn’t the constant reminder that his years were catching up to him, that he’d lost so many pining after the one man that would never want him back. Maybe the problem was instead the reminder that he would never have that, the husband he wanted, the husband that was physically in reach but so emotionally far away Kaoru found his heart weeping, yearning for some kind of hint as to what to do.
Because it had only ever been Kojiro.
“Do you want a lift home—?”
Maybe that’s why he said no.
Maybe that’s why he stepped onto Carla and sped off as fast as her wheels allowed him, out of the mountain in minutes and home within ten.
Maybe that’s why he cried himself to sleep that night, not even Carla’s lullabies able to lull him into rest; only one technique, one person, had that ability no matter the circumstance, and in that moment he felt a little too far away to reach.
So Kaoru settled for tossing and turning and hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.
“Kaoru?” Kojiro suddenly spoke up, after several minutes of silence.
Sia la Luce had been closed for half an hour by that point, and the only sounds had been the scraping of Kaoru’s fork on the bowl. Not that Kaoru was against that, of course— sometimes silence with Kojiro at the end of a difficult week was all he needed to feel recharged.
But Kojiro just had to go and speak.
“What?” Kaoru asked anyway between bites of his carbonara, Kojiro going quiet for a moment, one hand resting on the back bar as the other stayed firmly in his pocket. Weird but not the most questionable thing to happen that week, so he didn’t overthink it, instead raising an eyebrow at the other.
“Can I ask you question?” He started, and Kaoru’s mind immediately fled to their usual bickering, scoffing as he swallowed his food, dabbing his mouth with the napkin, immediately moving to fiddle with the cuffs of his sleeves.
“As long as it’s not will you marry me.”
For a moment, there was quiet.
And then there was silence.
So he looked up to find Kojiro staring, alarmed and scared and caught.
Like a deer in headlights.
And Kaoru thought oh.
“Oh my god, it is will you marry me.”
“Never mind Kaoru, listen—“
“Ask the question, idiot. Say it.”
“Well— no, because you obviously—“
“Kojiro.”
“You’ve been bombarded all week and I don’t want to be just another reject on the tally—“
“Ask.” Kaoru started, standing from his seat so his feet were on the bar on his stool, standing just taller than Kojiro and looming over him, glistening eyes and flushed cheeks looking up at him for once. “The question.”
“… Kaoru,” Kojiro started, slowly, carefully, before pulling a velvet box from his pocket, holding it up and clicking it open. From there Kaoru could almost hear Kojiro’s rapid heartrate, feel his hot breaths coming out a little too quickly. “Will you marry me?”
In a heartbeat, Kaoru replied, “God yes.”
“Wh— seriously?” Kojiro asked, even as he took the ring out of the box, holding a palm out for Kaoru to place his hand in— which he did so, immediately. “I thought you’d say no.”
“Why would I say no?” Kaoru huffed, eyes flicking between his hand and Kojiro, the diamond twinkling under the dim lights, more brightly lit by the sparkle in Kojiro’s eyes, persistent and happy.
All Kojiro did was bite his lip and look up, look at Kaoru’s eyes and nose and mouth, then back up at his eyes, his thumb running over the ring on his finger once more. “Because we’re not dating? Because you don’t want to get married? Because you’re way too hot for me?”
“I didn’t want to get married if it wasn’t to you,” Kaoru amended, promptly ignoring the other two and cupping Kojiro’s cheek with his spare hand, using his thighs to keep him up against the bar. “Though I’m keeping my last name.”
And Kojiro grinned, going on his tip toes to press a kiss to Kaoru’s nose, giggling when he tried to swat him away, dipping back in to capture his lips, Kaoru unsurprisingly leaning into it, glad when one of Kojiro’s hands came out to rest on his hip to steady him.
“I can’t believe you asked.” Kaoru muttered into his lips, kissing them once more before Kojiro giggled again, sounding far too giddy for a man his age.
Maybe it was his younger self shining through— how long had Kojiro liked him?
“I can’t believe you said yes.”
Kaoru pulled away then, settling back into his seat before finishing off his wine, holding the glass out to a dazed Nanjo Kojiro. Sakurayashiki Kojiro? Probably not. “Refill my wine, you gigolo.”
“Anything for you, fiancé.”
“Oh don’t do that.”
“Do what?” He asked with a chuckle, Kaoru still smiling anyway, watching Kojiro open the bottle of wine and pour just enough in, handing it back over with this smug look on his face. A smug look that said he’d won.
So maybe skating wasn’t the only thing they were on equal ground with.
“You know,” Kaoru ventured, holding his hand up to see the ring better, Kojiro circling around the counter to stand beside him, slipping an arm around his waist to hold him closer, “I never told you why my parents sent me on so many dates.”
“Yes you did,” Kojiro responded, frowning, “You said they wanted you to get married and be happy.”
“Half-truth,” Kaoru huffed, tugging his hand closer and using his spare one to hold his wine, Kojiro inching that little bit closer, breath dusting over his neck, “They knew I’d never be able to get over you myself, so they tried to push me to, but— they weren’t you, Kojiro.”
“Awww, you’ve been in love with me all this time?” Kojiro teased, pinching his sides and eliciting a yelp and a glare, his giggles filling the room once again. “How long?”
At least this question had an easy answer.
“Twenty-one years. We were on the playground and a girl came and gave you a love letter, you complimented her handwriting and I felt jealous.” Kaoru explained, sipping his wine as Kojiro gaped at him, fully lax from the shock. “So, maybe a little too long.”
“You— wh— how—“
“No questions, not tonight,” Kaoru cut into his ramblings, effectively shutting him up and convincing him to stay that way with a punctuating kiss. “Tonight is about the present.”
“Right,” Kojiro easily agreed, slipping onto the stool beside him and resting his chin on his palm, grinning dopily as his eyes shimmered and sparkled, “The present, with my soon-to-be husband.”
Husband.
Yeah, Kaoru liked the sound of that.