Eiri sat on the back porch of Shuichi's childhood home and stared out, a cigarette in hand. He really hadn't wanted to pay a visit to Shuichi's parents. Family gatherings always seemed to drive him to distraction, mostly because his own family irritated the hell out of him. They were dysfunctional even at the best of times. To be around Shuichi's family . . . well, to Eiri, they were beyond dysfunctional, if Shuichi were any indication of how he was raised. The singer was spastic, even on the best of days.
He caught movement from the corner of his eye, and Eiri glanced up to see Shuichi's father sit down next to him. The older man pulled out a cigarette pack and a lighter as he sat next to the novelist. Eiri raised an eyebrow at him. He didn't know Shuichi's father smoked.
When he saw Eiri glancing at him, the old man smiled.
"It's a bad habit, I know," he said with a wave of his hand and a slightly embarrassed grin, "but it helps at times. Especially when I'm stressed out."
Eiri nodded and went back to smoking his cigarette. He knew what it was like to feel stressed out and needing some kind of a release. Shuichi put him that kind of a state almost all the time.
No. That wasn't true. Shuichi didn't stress him out quite as much anymore, and Eiri knew it. He'd seen this family interact with each other many times before, and he knew his lover was nowhere near as emotional as the Shindou matriarch. The woman could go into theatrics over burnt cookies, Eiri felt, whereas Shuichi's melodramatics had more to do with the novelist and his behaviour more than anything else. How the old man managed his wife was beyond Eiri, and he gave the man credit. It couldn't have been easy for him, and Eiri found his curiosity getting the better of him.
"How do you manage?"
"Hrmm?" the old man glanced at him, large frames sliding down his nose.
"With your wife . . . how do you manage?"
"Her outbursts, you mean?"
Eiri nodded, keeping his expression neutral. He didn't want to offend the old man. He'd never get any rest from his lover if he did. The Shindou patriarch shrugged.
"I just remind myself that she cares," the old man replied. "And she cares deeply. That's all."
"Even if it's trivial?"
"Even if it's trivial," he replied with a nod. "To some people, the little details are important. If they can make one thing right, no matter how great or small, then they're happy. And you have to admit, it is the little things that tend to make us smile anyway."
Eiri took another drag from his cigarette as he pondered over the old man's words. They had some truth to them. Shuichi never asked for truly extravagant displays of affection nor did he insist that they always go out for a date. The singer was often content with a simple kiss on the cheek, and a snuggle (oh, how Eiri hated that word!) on the couch. Such moments were small, insignificant when compared to other things on the grandeur scale, but they kept Shuichi happy and satisfied. He couldn't ask for more than that.
They sat and smoked for a few minutes longer before the old man put his out and rose to his feet. He gave Eiri a friendly smile then stepped back inside. Suddenly, coming for a visit didn't seem so bad anymore.