Chapter Text
Winter is the season of possibilities. A blank slate. A canvas. The white carpet, newly installed on the cold and hard concrete reminds Suguru of the warmest days of his existence. The Spring of it. Soon it will be defiled, unpure, unappealing. It will remind him of what his life has become.
He's been on the streets for a few weeks, walking through Tokyo and discovering it in a new light while his own is being dimmed. He wonders if his mother misses him, if she regrets standing in silence as his father turned his back on him. She probably doesn’t. He thinks about how his parents never inflicted any corporal punishment on him yet reserved the worst of violence against him: loneliness.
Shinjuku 2 chome is a place he knows well even though he never ventured into any of the bars in fear of being seen. He’s walked around more than once, to keep his legs from freezing and becoming one with the concrete in what is probably the coldest winter he’s ever experienced. So cold that it seems unnatural. If Suguru had an inflated sense of self, he’d think it was just to punish him. He’s contemplated going to friends for shelter or comfort but whenever his brain tries to settle on that idea, shame overcomes him and stops him from doing so. His parents could have waited after Winter break to get rid of him but the Christmas miracle they prayed for was probably a life without him, their disgraceful, disappointing child.
For the first time, he decides to enter a bar. Though he doesn’t have much money left on him, perhaps the little treat will make him dizzy enough to put an end to the ridiculous stroll he’s been taking on an even more ridiculously high wire.
The decoration is campy enough to stir amusement in his heart, and the warmth hits him so strongly that his body forgets the days of cold and isolation. He takes a seat at the bar and orders the cheapest cocktail, hoping the alcohol will give his soul peace but that would be yet another disappointment on the drift of sorrows his life has started to turn into.
“Hey, I’ve never seen you around,” a man standing next to him shouts to him. His face is simple, neither beautiful nor repulsive, it’s just there. Suguru wishes it wasn’t. If only the music was louder, then he would pretend not to hear the man at all.
“Because I never come here,” Suguru deadpans but his vocal chords aren’t used to such settings.
The man scoots even closer to hear him. “Can you repeat that? I didn’t hear you,” he shouts in Suguru’s ear. The younger man instantly recoils at the almost contact but his visible discomfort is ignored. “Are you shy?” the man asks again. It’s a desperate and pitiful attempt to make conversation with someone who would rather be anywhere else. He now is standing behind Suguru, like a failed predator, a prey who forgot itself.
A projectile leaves from the counter and crashes into the man’s head, making him scream in surpise and pain. Now, that’s a melody Suguru can enjoy. Instinctively, his brown eyes shoot down to take a look at his saviour. It’s quite dark in the bar but he sees it.
A stiletto: silver.
Then a voice. A voice that reminds him of the spring but also of winter. A voice that reminds him of the carpet of snow on a winter day but also of the warmth of the first rays of sun when lady winter is put to rest. A voice that reminds him of snow peonies, lavender, and cherry blossom. A voice that reminds him of how sweet it feels to love and be loved in return. To him they are all the same.
They bring him back to one person.
“Hey, hands off my man,” the voice says. “I told you not to come here anymore. Do you want my other shoe in the fucking face?”
It keeps getting closer and closer but it still feels ethereal, eerie even. It’s a blessing but also a curse. Suguru feels his heart whiplash a thousand times in a few seconds, then a hand on his shoulder. It’s gentle, light like a feather, warm like wool. The annoying man leaves the premises in silence but Suguru almost extends his arm to keep him close.
“Hey, are you ok?"
Then a face. At first it’s full of concern for a stranger but the beautiful features transform in a second. They go from confusion and surprise to unabashed, inexplicable glee.
"Suguru is that you?”
Pools of brown meet blue and they’re as beautiful as ever when they grow wider, let themselves be covered by a curtain of hope, longing, relief. “Yes, it’s you. I can’t believe it’s you,” he says with the brightest of smiles. “What are you doing here?” The words are as soft as a whisper but the music doesn’t cover them.
Suguru instantly takes a step backward. The hand doesn’t leave his shoulder.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing there but he wishes he could disappear. What is doing there? He doesn’t remember why he crossed that threshold but there are so many questions in his head that it doesn’t matter.
The owner of the voice is dressed in a tissue of starlight from shoulder to toes but he shines brighter than anything that lives in the sky. His left foot is bare, the right attached to the stray stiletto’s sister.
Suguru’s heart can’t stop itself from singing his name : Satoru, Satoru, Satoru but his mouth is shut, his lips trembling in surprise, anticipation but also shame.
Never in a thousand years did Suguru imagine seeing him again and being greeted with such a genuine, forgiving smile. Not after he put an end to the sweetest moments of their lives by running away.
“Cat got your tongue? Surprising coming from a guy who usually never shuts the fuck up,” Satoru rolls his eyes but there’s warmth and playfulness to it. The same type Suguru would always feel when they were together, when they were kids navigating the most complex and confusing of emotions together. The same type Suguru would feel until he decided he no longer wanted to feel so helpless, so happy, so understood, so in love.
“You’re the one who was always rambling on about Digimon,” Suguru says. The joyful memories come crashing in and his lips twist into a smile. He’s happy. Hadn’t been in a while.
“And you ate that shit up cause you wanted to get into my pants,”Satoru says. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. He’s beautiful, so so beautiful, even more beautiful than when they were kids, than when they fell in love for the first time. His hair is still as white, his eyes still as blue, his skin still as perfect, his lips still as kissable. Perhaps even more.
“All that for a mediocre blow job,” Suguru jokes. “Why the extravagant outfit?” he asks. The fabric looks and probably feels like stardust, but touching Satoru is a privilege he lost. His fingers however burn to touch it.
“What? You don’t like it?” Satoru asks. It’s a preposterous question.
“I do. I think you’re beautiful,” Suguru answers. He’s always found him extremely beautiful, so beautiful that he doesn’t even look human.
“Not beautiful enough to avoid getting ghosted though. I even sent you letters. Wax seals and shit,” Satoru says. It stings just a little bit.
Suguru looks down for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he professes.
Satoru puts his fingers under his chin and lifts his head up for their eyes to meet again. “Don’t be. I was just being a dick to you,” he smiles again and removes his fingers. Suguru wishes he could kiss them in a silent apology but he still hasn’t earned that right.
His brown eyes wander around for a few seconds, waiting for the ghost of Satoru’s touch to dissipate. “What is this place?” he asks with his eyes still somewhere in the air.
Satoru sits on the stool next to him. “To me it’s home. To you I don’t know. What happened?” he tilts his head.
A sip of alcohol is taken to wash down the bitterness and shame. It’s not strong enough but Suguru isn’t a greedy man. “My dad found some porn on my computer and kicked me out. It happened a few weeks ago. I’ve been wandering the streets ever since,” he explains. It sounds almost ridiculous to be having that conversation in a bar after years of silence but there was never anything conventional about their relationship. A heart to heart while “I’m in love” by Tomoko Aran plays in the background might be the sanest thing they’ve ever done.
“Did anyone hurt you?” Satoru asks. He remembers the way Satoru ‘saved’ him from the pestering man despite not being asked to. It makes him wonder about the things Satoru has seen after they fell out. He won’t ask.
“No. I’m fine. I’m a big boy you know,” Suguru smiles. He takes a hair tie from his wrist and puts his long black hair in a bun.
“That’s good to know,” Satoru smiles back. It’s touching how relieved he looks. “I missed you. It all got so lonely and confusing without you. So many things were changing and I couldn’t even tell you about it.”
“I don’t have anywhere to be,” Suguru says. It’s a suggestion, an invitation, a plea for a chance to be redeemed.
“What do you drink?” Satoru asks.
“So you left home on your own?” Suguru asks in disbelief. Satoru has always been full of surprises but that isn’t something his friend could predict. That a kid that has been sheltered his whole life would leave their family and life behind isn’t something he could imagine. Satoru’s family was basically royalty in Kyoto and he was expected to be their perfect heir. Suguru knew that before they met for the first time at school, before they became the closest of friends, before they kissed for the first time inside that closet, on a rainy afternoon.
“My parents were already extremely sore about the liking men think but I guess the exploration with gender was the final straw. Shame though, I look fabulous. I left before they tried to change me and came to Tokyo,” Satoru explains. When Suguru’s family left Kyoto for Tokyo they were both quite similar in the way they presented, in the way they saw themselves, in what they were but so many things have changed ever since then. Suguru almost asks him why he didn’t contact him when he came to Tokyo but his heart is not that cold.
“So what are your conclusions? Who is the new Satoru?” he asks instead.
“I still don’t know much despite the years. All I know is that I’m too greedy to be just a guy. I want to be everything,” the white-haired beauty responds. No over words could match him the way that sentence does. It warms Suguru’s heart to see that despite the years and the events, Satoru will never be a stranger to him.
“How should I refer to you?” Suguru asks.
“I’m anything you want but I like he/him a lot these days. It might change though,” Satoru responds.
Suguru looks around again to take in the details of a place that seems to mean so much to the new Satoru.“How did you find this place?” he asks another question.
“I was wandering for a moment, taking odd jobs and shit when I met Yuki. She took me in, offered me this job as a server/entertainer and a home. As you can see most of the servers are in ‘female attire’. Sometimes we organize full fledged shows and let outsiders in though. Needless to say I always win,” Satoru explains. His friend wonders about said ‘odd jobs and shit’, about his life on the streets but he won’t pry further for the moment. Satoru seems to be satisfied with the person he’s become and that fills the raven up with joy. Suguru adored him when he was nothing more than a bud in a hostile garden. How can his heart do anything else but love the gorgeous flower he’s bloomed into?
“I never thought I’d see you dressed like this. I’m glad though. You look perfect,” Suguru lets his heart speak.
Satoru looks at him fondly. “Yuki thought so too. She got this property when her parents died and made it her life mission to help queer kids find a safe haven. She’s not always around these days but she’s made a lot of sacrifices to help everyone. I was seventeen when she took me in. Now there’s a few of us,” he takes Suguru’s hand. “I should introduce you to everyone!”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. His hand is still covered by Satoru’s soft, warm palm.
“Of course. Yuki could help you find a job,” Satoru says but it doesn’t seem appropriate to his lost friend. Crash landing into his life after vanishing from it when he was needed the most would demand a type of shamelessness or courage he never possessed. If he did, he would have been the person to water the beautiful flower he’s become. He’s not worthy of picking her up from her garden or even staring at her. He lost that right when he blocked the sun from accessing her.
“I don’t feel like taking advantage of her kindness. I can find a job at the university or something,” he says.
Satoru doesn’t let go of his hand. “Are you trying to punish yourself for leaving me once? Is your self righteousness more important than having a job and a home? You could start by telling me why you left,” he says the words with not a modicum of venom in them, and yet it hurts. Pain is a good thing, however. It serves as a reminder that there is still something he fears to lose. How ironic, when it’s something he discarded on his own, simply because he was too scared to lose something else. Something that in hindsight had little to no worth. Something that wasn’t truly his. At fourteen, he wasn’t ready to face his own feelings or his parents but he won’t ever have to face people who turned their back on him. Maybe loss is also a good thing.
“I-”
Satoru interrupts him. “Ever fucked a man?” he asks.
The answer is ‘yes’ but Suguru doesn’t feel like saying it. “What kind of question is that?” he asks instead.
Satoru crosses his arms. “You’re an adult now. Wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” he smiles. “I do. A lot.”
“...” Suguru doesn’t know how to treat the information so he just ignores it. They stare blankly at each other until Satoru takes a last sip of his drink.
“So it’s a yes. Noted,” Satoru smiles again. There’s mischief and surprise in it. Pride too. ”Come on, let’s go meet my dear Mother,” he says. Suguru follows his lead up what Satoru calls ‘The secret stairs’ as they climb to the fourth floor, were the music isn’t heard anymore. When they reach a large white door, Satoru takes a pair of keys from his jumpsuit and opens it. Suguru takes a deep breath and dives into what could possibly be his new life.
Yuki isn’t anything Suguru imagined her to be. She’s free. Free enough to be selfish but she chose to be kind. Suguru’s mother was always kind but only because she wasn’t free. Her inaction when faced with injustice and cruelty stemmed from the same rotten root.
The first thing Yuki asks him when her large eyes meet his own, shrinking by the minute is “What type of woman do you like?”
Suguru finds the question funny even though he’s been warned already. In a wanton display of self confidence and pride, he takes Satoru’s hand in silence and gently squeezes it.
Yuki smiles. “Blue eyed freak,” she calls with a tint of humor. “Can you leave me alone with your boyfriend for a minute? I need him to give me all the details of how he broke your little heart.”
Suguru sees the bait jump from Yuki’s lips, miss his head and go straight to Satoru who pouts and clicks his tongue. How many shades of blue has Suguru’s absence painted him? Did he let his new family rub it off from him or does it wear it like a bloodstain? Perhaps, he’s bled on them as well. He’s quite surprised that Yuki knows about him. She put the pieces together way too rapidly for someone who’s supposed to be a stranger.
“Like you need anyone to teach you about how to break hearts,” Satoru rolls his eyes as he speaks.
“Behave,” is his final warning before reaching the door from which he will probably spy on them.
“I’ll try to,” Yuki says, shooing him away with her hand.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he says without sparing a glance at the person the words were meant to. After the door is closed, silence settles in for a few seconds between the two new acquaintances but it doesn’t last. Yuki breaks it with a clap of her hands and a loud smile on her lips that are trembling in curiosity.
“So, what’s your life story?” she begins to dig. If Satoru was still in the room, he would have held his hand again. Everything in Suguru’s life circles back to him, after all.
“Fell in love with a childhood friend, left Kyoto for Tokyo when my father found a new job, stopped talking to him because I was scared of how much I loved him, got disowned by my parents when they realized I was bisexual, came here after wandering for weeks and the rest is history,” he explains swiftly, hoping Satoru heard the first part of his words. That’s when his life truly started, when he fell in love for the first time.
Yuki blinks a few times. “Did you rehearse that little speech?” she asks in a high pitched voice that seeps in disappointment, distress even.
“I was a theater kid,” Suguru says with a smile. It’s a conveniently placed, totally harmless lie. The first of what might be a long series of idle fabrications.
“Does Ken Watanabe have anywhere to go?” Yuki jokes. Her smile is still as large but quite gentler. Suguru can’t say exactly what changed but he can definitely feel a slight shift in her once fully playful tone. He mirrors her new emotions by offering her silence. Once again it is perfectly well timed.
“…”
The woman stands from her chair. She’s much taller than she appeared at first. Her straight blond hair also looks longer. “I guess he does now. We can rearrange the storage room for you but that would probably take a few weeks. For the time being you can stay with that little freak. His room is the biggest,” she offers, as expected, but a question keeps burning the back of Suguru’s throat.
“Why are you being so kind to a stranger? We’ve barely even spoken to each other,” he asks.
“Because I can. Also we need a new barman and you would do fine with that pretty face of yours,” Yuki says. Her honesty might be her biggest quality. Suguru decides she’s worthy of respect. His trust and gratitude were a given.
“I knew there was a catch,” Suguru smiles. “ Do I have to dress like him?” he shows the door where Satoru probably is stationed.
“Only if you want to,” Yuki shrugs.
“I’ll pass. Stilettos must kill your feet,” Suguru says.
“They do. One last thing. Are you the jealous type?” Yuki inquires.
Her interlocutor raises an eyebrow at the question. “No, why?” he asks.
“Good to know,” Yuki smiles again and lets out a deep breath, then a smile.
Suguru raises another eyebrow to match the first. “You’re scaring me . Do you like acting mysterious?” he says.
“Men must always be afraid of women,” Yuki winks. “ BLUE EYED FREAK COME BACK HERE!” she shouts at the door and smiles as it opens to reveal Satoru’s face. He still shines as bright as a thousand diamonds.
“Looks like you got a new roommates. Take good care of him and give him something to eat,” Yuki instructs. She looks at Suguru in disapproval. “ You look hungry as fuck. Meeting the others can wait. We’ll do that tomorrow.”
The first thing that catches Suguru’s attention when he sets foot into Satoru’s space is the large shelf decorated with tens of crowns and trophies, testimonies of a streak of wins. The room is indeed very large and loud about how much it is Satoru’s. It smells delicate, floral and sweet like Satoru himself, has a few tints of dramatic sophistication that solidify he hasn’t changed much in years. The dusty pink of the bed mingles beautifully with the soft turquoise trim on the bottom half of the wall. The hanging egg chair is reminiscent of the one Suguru had in his home as a young teenager.
“Why do you have the biggest room?” Suguru asks as he installs himself next to the bay window, on the cocoon chair Satoru left a scarf on. He takes it from the nostalgia filled teardrop and keeps it on his lap.
“Cause I fuck a lot and need space for all the positions I want to try,” Satoru answers with a cute grin.
“Still as funny as the day I met you,” Suguru ironises.
Satoru places himself in front of him with his back to his face. “Can you help me remove that?” he asks, talking about the zipper.
“Sure,” Suguru stands up and puts back the scarf from where he took it. Now that’s it’s just the two of them alone, he can finally bask in Satoru’s scent. The strong smell of alcohol no longer blocks his nostrils from accessing the sweet, nostalgic smells of lavender and baby powder as they mix with Satoru’s natural scent. Before reaching for the zipper, he lets his fingers lightly graze over the starlike fabric that dresses the so-called Blue-eyed freak. It heals something in him to be able to touch it although only momentarily. In a perfect word, he’d be able to touch his bare shoulders with those same fingers instead of using his eyes. He swallows and puts an end to the ridiculous self inflicted torture by removing the zipper and taking a leave.
“Where are you going?” Satoru tries to stop him.
“Somewhere I won’t see your naked body,” Suguru covers his eyes playfully but the smell of lavender is inescapable. Its bearer blocks him from leaving the room with one simple sentence.
“Don’t you want to see how much I’ve changed ever since you left?” Satoru asks. “Hey, look at me,” he puts his hands on Suguru’s and tries to remove them.
“Why would I?” Suguru asks in a monotone voice but there’s nothing monotone about how he feels.
“Because you want to,” Satoru says in a hushed voice.” Look,” he removes the trembling hands from Suguru’s face and lets the newly uncovered eyes find nourishment in his nakedness. Vulnerability truly has always been his most luxurious attire but he looks even more stunning since his latest left a few specs of stardust on his already perfect skin. If he could, Suguru would kiss him just to see if he still tastes as sweet as he used to, to know if he still feels so warm, if he still has that habit of smiling into kisses, if he still whimpers when they get deep, if the flush on his face would pierce through the makeup to be seen. Now that they’re in a well lit room he can see how perfect his face looks, how perfectly his features are highlighted by the simple, precise makeup that adorns them. “Did it kill you? Did you turn to stone? Do you like what you see?” Satoru mocks before the gaze can pierce through his skin.
“You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t dress up,” Suguru warns. He’s almost whispering but doesn’t even seem aware.
Satoru smiles. “Who cares? My roommate would take care of me,” he asserts, rightfully so.
Suguru smiles back. “Sit down and let me remove your makeup for you,” he says.
Very calmly, Satoru sits on his chair and puts on a Sanrio headband to facilitate his friend’s work.
“Cinnamonroll?” Suguru chuckles gently. “It suits you.”
With gentle strokes he removes the colors in silence and relishes in how intimate it feels to serve someone he’s hurt so deeply. Satoru stares at him in silence, with eyes bigger than the world.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Suguru, slightly amused, asks.
“Yesterday I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again and today you’re removing my makeup for me. I guess I just missed my best friend,” he says.
“When did you get so honest with your feelings?” Suguru asks. The white-haired beauty was always quite coy with vocalizing his feelings. Love was always in his hands but never on his lips.
“Did you expect me to keep acting like a teenager?” Satoru scoffs. “You’ve changed too. Just a little bit.”
“Only?” Suguru asks.
“You’ve always been gentle with me, although shy with your feelings. That’s something we had in common and look where it got us” Satoru says. It hurts.
“Why so grim all of the sudden?” Suguru puts the cotton pad down. “I’m done,” he says.
“You can use the shower first. Unless you want me to join you,” Satoru jokes with a grin. He’s still as flirty as the teenager Suguru once knew.
“You’re naughty, Satoru. Change that,” Suguru comments as takes the bag he’s been carrying around since he left home and enters the shower. Being Yuki's first “child”, Satoru is the only person other than her to have their own shower. One Suguru will most likely squat in once he gets his own room.
When Suguru comes back with a towel around his waist and another one over his hair, Satoru is still half naked but already asleep on their shared bed. The raven opens the first drawer of the white wooden chest and picks the first thing he finds: a pair of white shorts and a matching frilly crop top that smell faintly of fabric softener. He slips him into the pajamas and puts him to bed only to join him after he finds another pair to borrow from the same drawer. When he kisses him on the forehead to wish him good dreams, Satoru softly mumbles his name despite still being fully asleep. Suguru likes to think that his friend is dreaming of him. In his heart, he makes a wish: that the other Suguru, the one that lives in Satoru’s dreams and enjoys his presence in secret ways, gets to kiss him as much as the real one would like to. He presses their lips together for a short second, just to steal a quick kiss from him before going to sleep. His dreams taste like cherry and happiness, just like Satoru’s chapstick. They feel warm like frolicking in a field of lavender on a summer day. Just like Satoru’s presence in his life.