Fandom: Junjou Romantica

Genre: Angst, Romance

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or its characters.

Author's Note: This piece is somewhat experimental as I've never written a fic from first person POV before. On subsequent readings, I find the structure kind of strange but I'm open to any constructive comments. My intention was to zero in on Nowaki's thoughts as I think the guy is a little more possessive than his calm appearance suggests. Not beta-ed.

It was a quiet morning as Hiro-san and I settled down for breakfast as it has been for the past several days. Both of us have taken time off from our hectic schedules for some quality time together however, nothing productive or exciting has really occurred so far. As usual, Hiro-san was very adverse to any activity that involved 'unnecessary fluff' or 'overwrought romance' so I had to think of something else.

There was someone at the door. We rarely get visitors so who could it be?

"Akihiko??! What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Taking refuge."

"Avoiding your editor again, aren't you? Do you take my place as some sort of asylum for writers who can't meet their deadlines?? Why don't you install a panic room in your apartment so that you can hide there next time!"

"Anyway, this is my first visit to your new apartment. It's a lot neater than the previous one."

Despite his outward protests, I could tell that Hiro-san was happy Usami-san decided to pay a little visit. I don't think I have ever experienced such difficulty in bringing myself to smile when we went through the formalities of introduction. Usami-san had a very composed, almost gentle aura about him which I seemed to resent.

"Here. I received a copy of this from the editorial department the other day. I think you'll appreciate it more than I will."

"Kodansha International's limited edition photo compilation of Genji Monogatari Emaki! Wow, being in the business sure has its perks."

Usami-san's presence completely changed the quiet atmosphere from before and Hiro-san naturally seemed a little more vibrant. Come to think of it, Hiro-san and I shared very few interests due our different fields of specialization. Although, we have spoken about our work occasionally, the conversations usually ended up in an awkward silence. I have even tried browsing through some of the literature which Hiro-san admires but failed in developing any interest in them, and regrettably annoyed Hiro-san with my lack of appreciation for the written word. At the very least, and without my having to explain, Hiro-san understood my intentions and, in that uniquely flustered manner, reminded me that there was no need to force myself to adapt to his interests. Nevertheless, I was afraid of silence in our relationship. I was always worried if a day should come when the silence became a foreboding of an end. And that was not something I would be able to accept.

Upon returning to the living room with three glasses of tea, I saw both of them pouring over Usami-san's latest novel, perhaps in discussion of its contents, Hiro-san almost frantic in his opinions. I tried to reason to myself that having not met for so long, it was only natural that two childhood friends would have much to say but it didn't abate my jealousy of their being able to engage in such a lively conversation. If only I could capture Hiro-san's undivided attention in a similar fashion, no, if only I could have Hiro-san's undivided attention in every respect, I wouldn't have to battle with these feelings of inferiority. The fact that Usami-san could connect with Hiro-san in one field which was beyond the scope of my abilities displeased me.

"Nowaki? Why are you just standing there like that?"

"Huh... Oh, sorry Hiro-san. Please help yourself to this tea, Usami-san."

I must have measured myself against Usami Akihiko several times in the past. Hiro-san was fond his works but more recently revealed his admiration of Usami-san's perseverance in the fulfillment of his dreams. Despite the many times when Hiro-san expressed the unimportance of our different status, at times, I couldn't help but feel somewhat undeserving, especially when Usami-san came into the picture. If I were to completely capture Hiro-san's heart, I should, at the very least, be on par or greater than the object of Hiro-san's previous affection. Even if this train of thought was unreasonable or ridiculous, I am constantly reminded of it by the subtle yet lingering influence of Usami-san on the man I am pursuing. Additionally, Hiro-san still kept his novels in that safe corner of his bookshelf, each in a set of three copies.

* * *

It was quiet again, now that Usami-san has returned. It's almost nine.

"Nowaki... are you... angry that Akihiko came by today?"

I wished I could say no, but Hiro-san was too perceptive for deceit. However, what I felt was not so much anger as frustration.

"Look, Nowaki... Akihiko and I are close friends now... and... and I..."

"Hiro-san."

I could see the uneasiness in Hiro-san's face, as was always the case whenever he fumbled with the words to reassure me of the genuineness of his feelings. It was times like these when all my worries would seem trivial and my anxiety consoled as I am allowed the conviction that Hiro-san needed me. Even if Hiro-san was hampered by his inability to express, his efforts would have me seduced.

"Hiro-san, I'm not angry. But tonight will have to make up for all the frustration I felt during the day."

"Eh, what... wait... what do you mean by that?!"

"Before that, Hiro-san, I want to know if those books will continue to remain in that place."

"Books?"

Usami Akihiko's novels. They were taking up space in the bookshelf and possibly in some small corner of Hiro-san's heart, which should rightfully belong to me alone. I strode to the bookshelf with the intention of pointing out the emotionally intrusive objects when I discerned a black, hard-cover folder carefully placed between two literature texts as if to camouflage its existence. I have never noticed this before. Curiosity and the sudden look of alarm on Hiro-san's face made me inspect the contents of the folder.

"Nowaki!! Put that back!"

To my surprise, the folder contained the unsent letters I wrote when I was in America except that...

"There are three copies of each letter??"

Hiro-san now had a sheepish look on his face that quickly evolved into a contorted expression which meant that he was about to burst into hysterics due to his embarrassment. But I felt so happy and what little dissatisfaction that remained in my heart melted away with this simple, physical evidence of Hiro-san's feelings. I honestly could not love this man enough.

- END-