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February 2030


This is not what he'd dreamed of when he moved to Madrid four years ago.

They had always fought, the three of them. It's the nature of any relationship. 

But now Javi has told him and Yuzu that Marina is pregnant and wants to keep the baby and Shoma is just angry. White and orange flashing behind the eyes angry

"Nice job," Shoma snaps.

Yuzu crosses his arms.

"Did you poke holes in the condom?" he snarks.

Javi sighs. 

"It was an accident."

"Some accident," Shoma says. 

"She says she will understand if you don't want anything to do with the baby."

Shoma glares at Javi from his perch on the kitchen stool.

"What do you want?" he asks, voice low and dangerous.

"I want . . . a relationship with my child."

"That means Shoma and I will be involved," Yuzu says. "Unless we aren't."

"What do you mean?" Javi asks.

"Unless we leave you," Shoma says. 

Javi pales.

"You never wanted what we have. You just wanted some straight people life with kids all along," Shoma snarls. "Well, now you have it. Happy?"

He hops off the stool and goes to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He curls up in bed and listens to Javi and Yuzu fight. He falls asleep to the furious cadence of their voices. 

In the morning, Shoma is all alone. He creeps out. On the kitchen counter Yuzu has written AT THE RINK on a piece of paper. Shoma wonders if he got any sleep last night. 

"Hello, Sho," Javi croaks from the couch. 

He looks exhausted, as if he'd been crying. 

Shoma loves and hates this part of fighting. The moment when anger has been washed away, leaving nothing but a cool, clean, empty feeling, a feeling of love. Because even if Javi is in a relationship with Marina , who is now pregnant, he still loves Javi down to his marrow. 

Shoma approaches Javi. 

"I'm sorry about what I said. It was mean of me."

Javi waves his hand. 

Shoma takes it.

"I don't know if I want this, but I understand if you do."

"Thank you," Javi says.

Shoma sits next to him on the couch, enjoying his warmth. 

Nothing is settled this morning, nor will be for some days to come, but it's a start.