No Epilogue

(~After the End, Then Came the Preface~)

Yoshikuni stared pointedly at the wall behind his desk; there was a framed cork-board there, notes and pieces of paper pinned up, post-it notes stuck around the edge. All of those things were important for one reason or another, but Yoshikuni looked at none of them. He only looked at the wall because looking there meant he wasn't looking to the side, to his bed, to the figure that lazily draped himself over the narrow mattress.

It was one of those things, Yoshikuni supposed, that he'd always remember. When a big news story broke, people would always say afterwards, where were you when you heard about it? How did you react? How did you find out?... This wasn't anything so important as the kinds of events usually associated with those sayings, but in his world, those sorts of events were distant and so large as to be difficult to comprehend. World events were one thing, personal events were quite another. Nonetheless, for being something unimportant in comparison, it had still made the front page of half the newspapers in the campus shop. Yoshikuni didn't always buy the paper; he didn't really have room to keep them and relied on the internet as a more varied and complete source, but when he'd walked past the rack of cold drinks and that picture had caught his eye, he scanned over the headline and had frozen in place, just for a moment. These days at university were so far away from Seirei Gakuen and he liked to think that he'd made some progress when compared to how he was before, how the mere mention or suggestion of Takumu could make him react, but university was a new landscape that didn't contain any such reminder. Suddenly being caught out by a newspaper like that was unwelcome, undesirable. He bought it anyway, just to see.

"Beloved Export Model Kirihara Takumu In Homosexual Prostitution Scandal!"

He'd leafed through it on the walk back to his dorm room. Somehow, he found himself unsurprised that something like this should have happened. Maybe the most shocking thing was that it'd taken this long to happen in the first place. And now Takumu lay on his bed, looking through the newspaper himself. Yoshikuni didn't watch as he did so, but heard the occasional chuckle, an off-handed comment.

"... Honestly. The way they make it sound, it's like some sudden fall-from-grace... and calling it 'prostitution', that's such an ugly word. Don't they have any concept of the whole hosting, escorting sort of business? Making out like I'm some kind of cheap fuck, that's just rude."

Yoshikuni tapped the capped end of a pen against his desk, still pointedly staring forward at the corkboard. "... Takumu. Why are you here?"

The turning of another page. "Whoa, another page? Looks like they're really having a slow news day! That's definitely the best way to go about reporting a scandal, go in-depth with every damn detail until none of it even matters anymore. Oh hey look, they're talking about me being on the Student Council at Seirei here! I mean, what's that got to do with anything? That's just dragging Seirei's name down too..."

Yoshikuni didn't bother holding back the sharp note in his voice, "Takumu."

A rustling sound as Takumu dropped the paper down against his chest, "Okay, okay, jesus. Is it really that surprising? Went from being darling of America to subject of scandal practically overnight. Have you been to America, Yoshikuni? It's a big place, but that just means there are more people. At least people here tend to talk behind your back if they're gonna bitch about you. They don't bother being subtle over there. What kinds of things do you think happen to a guy caught in some sex scandal? How do you think people react?"

"I don't know and I don't care. I'm just not sure what part of all of that brought you to my dormitory, that's all. I have a project I'm supposed to be working on, I don't have time for such needless distractions."

Takumu pulled himself into a seated position and folded the newspaper in half, "Man, you're cold. That's the Kuni I know and love, I suppose." Takumu watched Yoshikuni's body jolt for a second, as he let the pen fall. Takumu smirked and leant his head against his hands. "Still not good for me to talk like that? Maybe I should be more considerate. I don't know what you've been thinkin' for the last three years. What brought me here? Don't really know. You, I guess. Knew you'd be here. I'm not doing great, so I thought I'd see how you were. Something like that."

"Nobody else would have you, so you came running back to me."

"That is cold!" A small laugh. "I guess I can't blame you for having that sort of reaction, though. I mean, all on the way back I was thinking, should I come back here? You gave me your address so I knew where you were, but was it right to come back?... Though I guess by now, anything like 'right'... that's not anything to do with us, is it? But I figured you'd probably react like that, say something like that. And yeah, maybe it's true, so what? I mean, you can argue it all you like but you still let me in, didn't you? I'm still sat on your bed, after all these years."

Yoshikuni pushed himself out from behind the desk, standing up from the office chair and walking over to the bed. He stood over Takumu, staring down at him. "Don't make it sound like it's the same, Takumu. You're right, I did let you in; I let you in because I had no reason not to. I didn't have any reason to, either."

Takumu watched Yoshikuni for a few moments, rusted cogs of recognition turning for the first time in so long. Yoshikuni stood above him and looked at him with eyes that reflected blank resentment, but Takumu noted the clench of his fist and the awkward way he stood, the way the silence reigned between them for the absence of interaction. He wasn't going to fill a silence just for the sake of it, and found himself somewhat interested in what Yoshikuni might have to say; he lifted himself up from being sat against the back wall to kneeling at the edge of the bed, a few inches away from Yoshikuni himself. He still stared.

Yoshikuni hadn't changed too much, had he? Takumu wondered if he was qualified to note the changes. Maybe they were a bit taller, now. It still felt like a novelty, seeing Yoshikuni in something other than his Seirei uniform; it wasn't that they hadn't seen each other such in the past, but the proportion of the former to the latter was quite sizeable. Had he changed his glasses? His hair was maybe a fraction longer than it used to be, flicks and whisps framing his face in a way that he would once have called untidy. Was this a sign of being more relaxed? Takumu couldn't help his lips curling in a smile to think of that, Yoshikuni? Being more relaxed? What a difficult idea to comprehend. Maybe he had changed, but maybe he hadn't, too. Takumu could feel it in the silence, the sense that Yoshikuni was judging the situation and, on the fly, trying to figure out how to react. Trying to work out how to behave. He'd always been like that, hadn't he? Always worried about his reactions, moreso for Takumu eventually discouraging them to the point of ignorance. Takumu hadn't got anywhere in his career by lacking confidence, though; he continued to stare at Yoshikuni, that light smile still ghosting his expression. What will you do, Kuni?

Takumu dropped his gaze to Yoshikuni's fists, still tight at his sides. Takumu could see them tremble. He reached for one, but at the slightest brush of contact, Yoshikuni pulled his hand away with a slight (but audible) gasp. Takumu caught Yoshikuni's line of sight once more, "... Looks like neither of us have made much progress."

"... M-more than anybody, you should know--... you should know. Don't touch me." Yoshikuni corrected the note of uncertainty in his voice, a moment too late.

"I guess there's been no-one since, huh..."

Yoshikuni turned away, moving over to the windowsill. He pulled the window up, leaning out and taking a deep breath. "I don't see how that should be any business of yours."

"I guess it's not, but I'm just saying, you know."

"Then don't."

"It's been, like, what... well, you've been here three years, right? So it's been that long, and however many months you want to add on for the end of Seirei. It's been that long and you're still pulling back like you've been burnt if someone just happens to brush against you?"

"Takumu, I--... I'm just not comfortable with it, that's all."

"And you think it's healthy, keeping on like that?"

"I think, that it's nothing to do with you. And it's not important."

Takumu shifted against the bed so he sat on the edge, his legs over the side and his feet against the floor. He held the edge of the mattress and leant forward, watching Yoshikuni's profile with a somewhat hawkish expression. He frowned slightly, seeming to have come to some conclusion. "... You really are the same, aren't you? The same cold and lonely Wada Yoshikuni you were when I was a first-year student. Is this how you've been? Is this what you're still like? I never thought--... I never thought you'd really still be like this. There's lots of people at a university, and you're at the most prestigious one in the country! Haven't you found anybody else to be close to? Hasn't Katsuragi made a move yet?"

Yoshikuni couldn't help his body tensing, the words hitting harder for being through mere curiosity. He knew that Takumu could be cold and knew that Takumu could be cruel, but this wasn't that; this was genuine surprise, genuine surprise that it had been this long and things just hadn't changed. I'm stuck. I'm stuck, Takumu. You, more than anybody, should know why. Trying to regain some control, Yoshikuni tried to keep his voice firm. "I don't know what you've been doing for the last three years, Takumu, but I've come to this university to study. I've continued my studies, I'm aiming for high qualifications. Those things you talk about... this isn't the place for that, nor the time. I'm concentrating on my academic career; I have no need for such distractions."

"Are you still the top-scoring student?"

"... One of them. There seems to be a cluster of us, high-scoring students all fighting for the top."

"I see. Well done." Takumu's sentiment was genuine; this caused Yoshikuni to look towards him momentarily, confusion evident in his frown. He went back to looking out of the window. He didn't turn to look as Takumu stood up and leant himself next to the desk, a foot or so away from where Yoshikuni stood. "... You don't know what I've been doing for the last three years?"

"It's no business of mine."

"You've got that newspaper. I think you do know."

"... I see. So, I suppose, you've not changed either, have you? When I left Seirei, I--... I left that part of me behind."

"How's that Aihara-kun doing these days?"

Yoshikuni ignored this, "I left that part of me behind. That sort of behaviour... we were just selfish children, back then. All of us, without exception. Moving here made me reassess my priorities. ...I think you're still the selfish child as ever you were, Takumu. If that's the way you've been behaving, even now... I don't think you've moved on, either."

Takumu made a small noise of amusement, "Maybe you're right. I mean, back then... we were all guilty, weren't we? All of us on the Student Council. Even if we blamed you, you were still only leading us. We didn't have to follow. And it's all there, you know? Modelling. It's one of those sorts of businesses, isn't it? The prettiest, the most glamorous... you always get talking to the others, if it's after a shoot or during some new social event... I'd always have these girls complaining at me, saying about how hard it sometimes was - 'just because we'll model their clothes, what makes them think we want to do anything else with them!? It's just our job, they're disgusting--!'... and they're right, of course. We're just tools to be used, but sometimes you'll get a director with funny ideas about how exactly to use us." A shrug, "If you don't like it, you can fight it. Call authority on them, blacken their name. 'I just got a job with this advertising company!' 'Really? Great! But watch out for this guy, he's terrible!' 'Really?' 'Really! I'll tell you what he did--'... and it carries on like that. It's the same anywhere. I've been modelling since I was a kid, you know that. You can get people arrested for that. Then you grow up, have the legal ability to agree or disagree, and the element of risk falls out. If you want to fight it, sure. If you don't want to, that's fine too."

"And you never did?"

"Why should I? People who don't believe in sleeping their way to the top are just moving in the wrong circles. If you can do it, then do it. If you can do it well, then even better."

Yoshikuni turned to look at Takumu in the silence afterward, really look at him. Glancing across, Takumu was surprised to see Yoshikuni's expression - had he ever seen Yoshikuni with that kind of face before? He smiled, but he wasn't amused. He seemed somewhere between disgust and pity.

"And it took you three years out of Seirei to fall into scandal? I really am surprised."

Takumu tried to hide his own bitterness, "I guess it is surprising, isn't it? Old habits die hard. Guess being at Seirei made me lazy, huh. You can do what you like, so long as you don't get caught... back then, there wasn't any danger of that. Sometimes it's easy to forget the rest of the world doesn't run on quite the same tracks."

Silence fell once more. Yoshikuni didn't seem to have anything to say to this; Takumu narrowed his eyes, wondering - really wondering - why he had come back here. What had he been expecting? Had he thought that Yoshikuni might have changed? If so, how? He didn't know if he was surprised or relieved to find that Yoshikuni seemed the same as ever he was, even if that Yoshikuni did still feel hurt, even if he was displeased by Takumu's actions. He didn't think any part of him had thought that Yoshikuni might be pleased to see him, in any case.

He hadn't shut him out completely, though. He was distant, but hadn't that always been the case? It had taken a long time for Yoshikuni to open up to him in the first place; if he'd rolled back to some mental state before that, then Takumu couldn't blame him. It seemed sad, but he couldn't blame him. Was it really that he had considered Yoshikuni the only person he could return to?

It had been an awkward and difficult time, not that he was prepared to admit this to Yoshikuni. He didn't think Yoshikuni would really want to know the particular details of his return to Japan, and the broadsheet newspapers did enough of that work for him. It was a cold and sudden betrayal, though; no relationship, out there, had ever been serious. That would have defeated the point. They all did what they liked because they could, but Takumu had had the misfortune to get caught. That changed everything; even those he'd consorted with would avoid him - especially those he'd consorted with. Knowing what they knew, knowing what he knew, they didn't want to get painted with the same brush. Didn't want to get caught up in the malicious nature of scandal. Of course, anger faded and one could work their way through scandal, but Takumu was too young and inexperienced to know how to handle that, especially when it felt that nobody was on his side. Even Kazuya wasn't speaking to him, though that was for more personal reasons than most. For all of those angry for the nature of this scandal, Kazuya's reaction was the one that hurt the most, but Takumu expected that. Their relationship hadn't been serious either, but there was still a thread of trust that Takumu had unquestionably betrayed, behaving like he had. He'd never told Kazuya of what went on at those photoshoots and, on the plane back, wondered why. Because it wasn't any of his business? Because he wouldn't want to know?

Because it'd hurt him?

Takumu knew that he'd been unfair on Kazuya. Back during the time of Seirei, Takumu remembered Kazuya being frustrated with his relationship with Tatsuya because it seemed like he couldn't take anything seriously; Takumu had had the opposite problem with Yoshikuni, that he seemed to take everything far too seriously. Once the third-year students had left, that left the two of them without Tatsuya and without Yoshikuni (Makoto's presence aside); the absence of those two had lifted a lot of the pressure, and it was easy to fall into something that was halfway between their two frustrations. They'd been friends far longer than they'd been lovers, so surely each knew what the other wanted? Kazuya wanted the opportunity to be able to communicate his feelings sometimes, and Takumu wanted to feel like his every act wasn't under such tight scrutiny. Like that, they'd gone off to America together.

Takumu couldn't help but wonder if he'd become exactly what Kazuya had found frustrating about Tatsuya in the first place. The lifestyle was shallow, he knew this, it was just avoiding the danger of falling into that trap, of becoming as shallow as the lifestyle that was presented. He hadn't avoided that at all; more than that, he'd revelled in it. And the day after the scandal broke he'd been on Kazuya's doorstep, denied further entrance, "I don't want to see you here again until you've stopped thinking with your cock," and then he'd slammed the door. Part of Takumu had wanted to argue the point but a larger part knew he had no leg to stand on. He was entirely at fault, entirely.

He could have stayed, but that action just seemed masochistic. Work opportunities dried up immediately, contracts were cancelled and brands found a new mascot to parade their products. Nobody wanted to damage their own reputation with the harm Takumu had caused to his own. The lifestyle was shallow, friendship was driven by opportunity and once Kazuya wasn't speaking to him, there was nobody else. Would Kazuya have relented on his opinion had Takumu waited for him to calm down? Maybe. Nonetheless, Takumu felt restless. He went back to Japan because Japan felt like home far more than America ever had, but on returning realised that that felt as false as anything else. Where would he go? He wasn't sure he wanted to face whatever his parents had to say to him. Maybe it'd be best to settle somewhere on his own for the time being, pick up the pieces and reassess his situation. The scandal had happened three years out of Seirei and he'd been paid well in the meantime; he had enough money to buy himself some time, to rest and hide before necessity drove any kind of desperation. And then he'd gone to Yoshikuni.

Maybe that too was a masochistic action. All those who'd hired him in the past now seemed to despise him for what had happened, Kazuya was blanking him and Yoshikuni hated him, but Yoshikuni had always hated him, and in that, maybe there was some strange sort of comfort. Yoshikuni's hate was dormant, for reasons other than these present problems. At least those times back then they'd both been at fault, to some degree. At least Yoshikuni's hate couldn't be intensified by this scandal; stirred perhaps, but not intensified. Takumu didn't believe there was much he could do to hurt Yoshikuni any more than he already had.

(Maybe that's why I came back here, he wondered.)

Takumu looked at Yoshikuni, still stood by the window. He doubted there was much out there to really catch Yoshikuni's attention, but anything to avoid looking to his side, to avoid looking at Takumu. And again, he seemed like he always ever had. Whether it was here, in one of the anonymous dorm rooms, or back at Seirei, looking out towards the sports track from his office in the Student Council building, Yoshikuni had always had that distance to him. Looking at things without really seeing them, always more concentrating on his own train of thought, on thoughts that only he could know.

The silence was too much.

"... Where have you retreated off to now...?"

Yoshikuni looked up, startled. "What?"

"Well, you were so quiet, and you seemed so interested by something outside, I thought you were ignoring me."

Yoshikuni held his gaze on Takumu for a moment before looking back to the window, looking up to the sky and down to the windowsill in his attempt to feign innocence for whatever imagined slight he'd taken on himself. "No, no, nothing like that. I just--... I wasn't ignoring you."

"You weren't saying anything."

Another look towards him. "I'm not used to this kind of confrontation. I still don't know what I think of your presence here, to be quite honest."

Takumu lifted himself up slightly, sitting up against the top edge of Yoshikuni's desk. "Thinking that I'm different, aren't you? Looking at me, trying to see how. When was the last time we saw each other...?"

He left a deliberate pause, there. The last formal time, of course, was the third-year graduation. The older students passing on the torch to the younger students, the new Student Council giving their thanks to the students who had guided them. And there had been that, but there had been times since, too. With Makoto heading the Student Council, Yoshikuni had still occasionally made his presence known. Yoshikuni had left Makoto in charge for, essentially, one reason alone; to keep an eye on Takumu. Yoshikuni had sometimes decided to check his progress in person, and Takumu saw the hitch of breath punctuating that pause, threatening to disturb long-abandoned memory. Takumu averted that thought, "We've not seen each other since school. Are we still the same people we were back then? Does the me that you remember still correspond to the me you're looking at?"

Yoshikuni looked at him, wondering if that question required an answer. He didn't provide it with one; Takumu pushed himself away from the desk in silent response, taking a step closer to the window, to Yoshikuni. Yoshikuni watched him carefully, but didn't move.

"Maybe out of all the people from back then, I'm the last one you'd want to see. I'm not stupid enough to think that you'd ever actually choose to see me, or anything..." He moved closer and Yoshikuni's eyes took on a flicker of fright, but Takumu closed his eyes and ignored that. Instead, he reached for Yoshikuni's shoulders, standing behind him and wrapping his arms around his upper body. There was warmth there, but was it recognisable? Takumu had known the warmth of many over the past years, but felt the way Yoshikuni's body flinched and tensed and felt his own memories stirred.

"... Why did you let me in, Yoshikuni...?"

No response, but for the quick rise and fall of Yoshikuni's breath. Takumu loosened his grip and pressed fingers to Yoshikuni's chest, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat, quickened as it suddenly was. Takumu wondered if Yoshikuni had even heard the question. Maybe not; they stood like that for not longer than a few seconds before Yoshikuni summoned what strength he had to push Takumu back and himself away, attempting escape to the next available space which was, really, only the meter or so between the window and the wall. He held himself as if he hurt, and Takumu wondered if he should feel guilty.

No, there's no question of that.

"... Kuni...?"

"... Don't--... don't say that. Don't say that, and don't touch me."

Takumu watched Yoshikuni for a few moments longer, wondering how to respond to that. Either provoke him further or lay off; he'd learnt enough to know that the former wasn't much choice at all. He sighed and turned on his heel, making the few steps back over to the bed, sitting back down against the edge of the mattress.

"... I'm asking you honestly, Yoshikuni. Why did you let me in, today? Knowing it was me, why didn't you just close the door?"

Yoshikuni tried to correct his posture, leaning back against the far wall. His brow furrowed with some kind of confusion, and he looked to one side. "... I don't know."

There were many choices to pick from, Yoshikuni knew that much. If he wanted to go for the most recent, then there was of course the question of the scandal to consider. Was it true, was it some kind of elaborate media-centred lie? A small part of him had liked to think that it might be a lie, but knew that previous experience pointed towards the former more than the latter. Nonetheless, to have Takumu beside him was to be able to ask him; maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed. With him, it was always as bad as it seemed. Was it that though, or was it something further, deeper? As much as he liked to deny it, Yoshikuni knew that there was the side of him that still sometimes found it hard to let go, the side of him that wrote long emails late into the night and deleted them come the morning, unsent.

He'd been living on the principle that, no matter what it was that had happened in the past, he wouldn't be seeing Takumu again. He had his life at Tokyo University and Takumu had his own out in America with his modelling and all that that entailed, and it was unlikely that their paths would cross again. Whatever there was to feel guilty for, whatever there was to regret, it was all in the past and it was all in his mind. If he couldn't get over what had happened, that was his own problem and, like that, he was the only person to be concerned of such a thing.

He'd never expected to see Takumu again; that was the most basic issue with this situation. He'd never really expected to see Takumu again, let alone have him sat on his bed in his dorm room at university. He hadn't prepared for this eventuality and didn't know how to react, not at all. Those times back at Seirei, there had been the excuse of context. Because it had been Seirei, because it had been the whim of the Student Council, Yoshikuni had been able to fall back into that role. The unforgivable had been somehow forgivable, with that as a reason (maybe, or maybe not).

He'd let Takumu in because he knew that, more than anything, he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself had he instigated such a rejection. If Takumu had come here, then there was the possibility that it was for a reason and if it was for a reason, then he didn't want to face the regret of never having known what that reason was. At the same time, he didn't want to admit any of these thoughts to Takumu; the past tense of their relationship felt like the elephant in the room and Yoshikuni didn't want to mention it, didn't want to expose any weakness that would admit to Takumu that he still thought of that, hurt from it, felt fragile for it. For Takumu, that was something long into the past. It was the same for Yoshikuni, but still affected so much of the present, of the future. Wasn't that pathetic? Wasn't it lazy, lying in the mire of memories without the strength to move on? For all that Takumu seemed concerned, for all that Takumu was perhaps now different, Yoshikuni still remembered the Takumu who had been cruel, and wouldn't let forth any hold for him to take current advantage of.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come here after all."

"--... Takumu...?"

"I wouldn't have expected you ever to be happy to see me or anything, not after everything, but it's--... even now, you're all jumpy. I touched you, and you got all freaked out. I remember the Wada Yoshikuni who was all cool and confident, yeah? Because of me, that's gone missing. Maybe you can still be a cool and confident person, but not with me around. We scared each other off."

"... That's--... that's not to say that you shouldn't have come back, though... I, I mean... you must have your reasons..."

"Do I? Do I really? Maybe I just came here on a whim. Maybe you're right, and it's 'cause no-one else would have me, but I think that's being too kind, Yoshikuni. Kazuya won't speak to me and I don't want to face my parents, who's to say you'd even give me the time of day?..." A thin smile, "Maybe I came here for the same reason that you let me in."

"... Oh?"

"... Just to see what would happen."

Again, Yoshikuni said nothing. He didn't want to agree, but he felt that he couldn't disagree, either.

Takumu continued, speaking with a different tone. "Of course, coming back to Japan like this... even here it's pretty hard. I mean, here it's probably going to be harder, isn't it? The loss of honour, that kind of thing. Might be a while before I can get any kind of job again, and I doubt my family's gonna want to put me up. I guess I'm free, in a way? I'm going to get an apartment someplace. How's Tokyo working out for you?"

"Ah--... w-well, it's... I spend most of my time here at the university, so it's... I don't know if I could give much of an opinion to the city in general. I think if you were to look to live here though, it would probably be rather expensive... it's not something I've looked into, but any capital city is going to be the same..."

"I've been hopping apartment-to-apartment in some of America's classiest joints, these past few years. I've got the money."

"Well... if you've got the money, then there's nothing to stop you then, is there...?"

Takumu fell back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling, "Guess not. I just wondered what the atmosphere was like, that's all. But that's going to be different for anybody, I suppose. Can't really ask something like that."

"... I like it. I feel like I'm somewhere. At school, it was as if... as if we could only stay there as long as we were aiming for somewhere else. This was where I was aiming for, and this is where I've come to." Yoshikuni slowly stepped back across the room, back to the desk, sat at the office chair and swung on it to face where Takumu lay. "Everywhere we go is only a stepping-stone to the next place, at the moment. But, here, it feels like I could decide on anywhere, and get there."

"Says the top-scoring university student."

"... There is that."

Another silence. Takumu stared at the ceiling and Yoshikuni watched him for what was likely only a few minutes, but felt like a lot longer. Takumu seemed in sudden deep concentration about something, and Yoshikuni didn't want to enquire as to what. Rather than say anything, Takumu then sat up, stood up, contemplated the room around him with what felt like a rather finalistic air.

"... Takumu?"

"... Yeah. I'll get an apartment, see where I can go from there. I mean, I'm not qualified for much - I've only been doing modelling for as long as I can remember, never made any kind of back-up plan. So I guess I just have to throw myself into it, don't I? I mean, could you see me working some kind of office job? That'd be worth seeing!"

"... Mm."

Takumu sighed gently, looking at Yoshikuni, trying to catch his line of sight.

"I remember when you confessed to me, way back then."

Yoshikuni looked up at that, not saying anything. Damned the surprise that made his thoughts so evident by his expression; Takumu just smiled.

"I remember when you confessed. Back then, I was so amazed by the Student Council... Seirei made such a big deal of it, and you were all impressive, in your own way. You, Katsuragi, Kudou, Yuhara-senpai, Horozumi-senpai... people admired me because I was a model, but I never felt that was anything to do with how things were when I was in school. When I went to school, you guys were the idols. Then I got onto the Student Council and I was an idol too, but... before that, you stood before me and told me you admired me. That you didn't know what you wanted, only that you wanted to be closer to me. And, somehow, I wanted to be closer to you... and I know in retrospect you might not believe that, but it's true. Because I admired you, as Wada-senpai, but you always seemed so distant, and I never knew what I could do to cross that distance. In the end, it was you reaching out that seemed to do it... though maybe it didn't go quite as either of us planned."

"... That's all in the past, Takumu... why do you have to bring that sort of thing up now, after all this time..."

Takumu hesitated for a moment. "... You seemed lonely back then. You still seem lonely now. Just, the difference between now and then... I'm lonely, too."

Yoshikuni hadn't expected Takumu to say something like that, but before he could react, Takumu had opened the door and left the room; so sudden, without warning... Yoshikuni grabbed his key to the complex and shoved it into his pocket, hurrying out of the door and catching up with Takumu on the way down the stairs to the bottom of the dormitories, coming to a stop in the front lobby.

"--... Takumu, wait..."

"What is it?"

Yoshikuni didn't know. Takumu knew this. He put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as Yoshikuni caught his breath.

"When I get the apartment, I'll mail you my address or something. If you're getting this worked up, I guess it'd be cruel to leave you hanging. Maybe you can give me a surprise call sometime, too."

"... Where are you staying at the moment?"

"I'll find somewhere, don't worry about me."

"I, I mean, the Wada name still has that much sway that I could probably--"

"Yoshikuni. Don't worry about it. I've been living in another country for most of three years, a night on my own's not gonna kill me. And what with all this scandal going on, sooner I learn that the better, don't you think?"

"... Showing up out of nowhere, disappearing just as quickly... you're still cruel, aren't you?"

Takumu's gaze was even, "You know what I'm like when I'm cruel, Yoshikuni; this is nothing like that. Look, I'll be fine. You've got my mobile number, haven't you? It's not changed, and it should work better now I'm, you know, in the same country as you again. Phone me or something, if you're that worried."

As Takumu turned to leave again, Yoshikuni knew that there was nothing he could do to stop him, no reason why he should. He leant against the painted metal of the handrail, feelings conflicting with every further thought. And then Takumu stopped in doorway, leaning on the doorhandle. He turned around and smiled.

"... Maybe I just wanted to see your face. That's all."

And then he was gone, walking along the gravel outside of the dormitories and turning to follow the path and vanishing past the edge of the building and the bushes beyond. Yoshikuni stood in the stairwell for a few minutes afterwards, not knowing why; did he expect Takumu to return? He didn't know what he thought. More than anything he was just surprised by the sudden visit and the abrupt nature within which it had ended.

For such a short while, Takumu had been there. Been present in his life again. For those moments on that afternoon, their lives had collided with one another once more.

As he retreated back up the staircase, Yoshikuni contemplated the thought of Takumu getting an apartment in the city, of the implication that he should visit.

That's still just cruel, Takumu.

You know I can't resist.

end