I don't own Junjo Romantica or anything else mentioned in this story…I merely use them as a pawn in my sexual games.
Anon- oh, is that what you think? :) Well, you're going to have to stay tuned to find out…
Rin- I didn't quite make that quite as clear as I should have: Nowaki is unaware that Hiroki is coming.
Unfortunately, I'm very lazy and won't be able to answer all the great reviews you lovely readers have left for me…but thank for all of your wonderful support! My goal is to have this finished by Christmas, since the title is "Christmas in America"…But I'm not sure how many chapters long this will be. I'm guestimating that there will be more than a dozen chapters, but it depends on how long I allow each chapter to be. But good news! A sudden bout of inspiration has suddenly given me a new lead. I'M SO EXCITED!
X X X
Throughout the flight, Tanaka and Hiroki joked and talked and laughed as if they had known each other for years rather than hours. When jokes and complaints about the flight were put aside momentarily, Tanaka would often spring up a random question about Nowaki. Hiroki didn't really mind answering the questions anymore, but he found many of the questions rather odd, considering they had just met and the person in question wasn't even present or really relevant in any way. Many of them dealt with how Nowaki grew up, along with his merits and many jobs. His gut feeling told him something about Tanaka, something that he didn't really wish to question—so rather than ask and make the remainder of the flight incredibly awkward, Hiroki waited for Tanaka to mention it, on the off chance she ever did. Besides, what was the chance that your orphan boyfriend's biological mother would sit beside you on the plane, then have the gumption to ask about her abandoned son? Maybe it was the weird-tasting chicken they'd served for lunch…
"Kamijo-san, does Kusama-san ever talk about his biological parents?" Tanaka asked, momentarily breaking Hiroki's peaceful silence.
"No, he never knew them. He was left at the orphanage when he was just a few weeks old."
Tanaka considered Hiroki's words. "…Can I see that picture again?"
Not finding a reason not to, Hiroki pulled his cell phone back out and scrolled down to find a decent picture of his boyfriend (not that some of the others were naked ones; that would be stupid). He held it out for her, and Tanaka leaned in to study it.
It took Tanaka a moment to speak. "…Do you mind if I show you a picture?"
Hiroki shook his head and narrowed his eyebrows questioningly. "That's fine."
Tanaka sighed before ducking down to fish her wallet out of her purse. She opened it and flipped straight to the back of her credit card flap, then pulled a picture out from between two of the cards. Reluctantly, she held the picture out for Hiroki.
"Do you…think this is what Kusama-san would look like as a baby?"
Hiroki took the picture from her and studied it close. His face sunk into a deep frown as he realized he'd seen this baby before—but it was with different backdrop. The pictures could've been taken within days of each other for all he knew. The eye color was identical and there was a mole on the baby's neck exactly where Nowaki…
Hiroki pursed his lips and thrust the picture back at her. "No, I don't think so."
Tanaka watched him for a moment. Just as she was about to speak again, one of the stewardesses came over the intercom. "Attention passengers, we have reached 10,000 feet and will be arriving at John F. Kennedy International Airport in about 15 minutes. At this time, please turn off all electronic devices so we can continue our descent. The temperature for New York City is 28 degrees Fahrenheit with light snow. Thank you for flying American Airlines, and welcome to New York City."
Hiroki was preparing to power down his cell phone when an idea suddenly popped into his head. It was risky and a tad twisted, but he only had a small amount of time to pull it off. He held out and turned his wrist to the left so that the camera of his phone was pointed at Tanaka. While she was preoccupied putting her wallet away, Hiroki snapped a quick picture before pulling his hand back and turning his phone off. He slipped it into his backpack and pulled the window slat up so he could watch as they descended into New York. The city was already blanketed with snow and there were hundreds of cars weaving in and out of the skyscrapers.
"Tanaka-san, where are you staying at?"
Tanaka turned slightly, surprised that Hiroki had actually chosen spoken to her given the way he'd reacted to the picture. "I'm staying at the Hilton Garden Inn in Times Square. It's located on 8th Street."
Hiroki nodded and continued to watch the snow fall. His mind was abuzz with hundreds questions that he couldn't ask and a multitude of things he couldn't say.
X X X
It had been awkward when they first started de-boarding, but Hiroki was grateful to have lost Tanaka when she marched off in the direction of a bathroom without mentioning a goodbye to Hiroki. His mind was still racing with the onslaught of Intel he had gained over the past few hours, but Hiroki was going to leave that can of worms was for the taxi ride. It was hard consider your boyfriend's potential family life and translate English and walk through an alarmingly crowded airport, all at the same time.
Being a literature major, Hiroki often had to read texts written in English, so he was quite comfortable with the language. He hadn't taken any formal English class since his second year of high school, but he was still able to recall everything he'd learned with practiced ease. In fact, he'd tutored Nowaki in English while he was preparing for the entrance exams. There were still some aspects of the language that he'd never grown comfortable with, however; like when to use contractions and when not to pronounce certain letters. It was a minor thing that didn't prevent Hiroki from navigating through the airport, but Hiroki still got embarrassed when he pronounced "knife" with the "k". You'd think I'd know better by now…
By the time Hiroki had finally found baggage claim (the airport was huge and Hiroki kept getting stuck behind long lines of people and their stupid children), the bags had already come shooting out. After dragging his cold, wet luggage off of the claim belt—with the assistance of a hefty black woman, much to Hiroki's embarrassment—he breezed through customs and followed the signs that said "EXIT".
It had taken nearly an hour to reach the exit from the time Hiroki had landed, but he didn't mind. The plane hadn't crashed, he'd gotten away from Tanaka, he was finally in New York City, and now he was just hours away from seeing Nowaki again…his palms were sweating already.
The cold had been a slight shock when he stepped outside, but Hiroki didn't want to dig his jacket out in the middle of the airport. Hiroki had done research on hailing cabs in New York, so it only took him 3 tries to successfully flag one down. The warm cabin was welcoming, and he quickly threw his bags in. He had converted about twenty thousand yen into over two hundred American dollars for the taxi ride alone, so he hoped that would be enough—he wasn't exactly sure how far Nowaki's place was from the airport and was unsure about cab fare in New York.
"Where to?" Hiroki collected from the dark skin and thick accent that English was obviously not the driver's first language, either.
"Here, please." Hiroki handed him the street address and name of the apartment complex on a sticky note. Hiroki didn't want to risk saying the address wrong and ending up at some crack house on the other end of the city, so he opted to write it down for convenience's sake.
"This is pretty far away, big cab fair. That okay?"
"That is fine."
The driver turned back around and clicked the meter. As he checked his blind spot and prepared to pull out into traffic, a million thoughts ran through Hiroki's mind. Could that Tanaka-san be Nowaki's biological mother? If so, does she want to meet Nowaki? Does Nowaki want to meet her?
"Oh right," Hiroki whispered, too low for the cabbie to hear it. He grabbed his carry-on and rooted around until he found a pen and napkin from the plane. "Times Square, Hilton Garden Inn, 8th Street," Hiroki annotated as he shakily wrote it down on the napkin, tearing it in several places. It was sloppy, but just in case something was to come up, Hiroki didn't want to forget where Tanaka was staying.
Hiroki grabbed the back of passenger's side seat as the driver suddenly slammed on the breaks. The driver shouted something in what Hiroki presumed was Spanish, honking his horn at the brazen Rolls Royce that had cut him off.
Hiroki sat further back in his seat, trying to the snow fill his thoughts as it blanketed the streets and melted on sewer grates.
X X X
Sometime later (Hiroki hadn't been paying close attention to the time), the cab pulled over. "We're here."
Hiroki sat up and looked out the window. "Thank you very much," he said, handing the driver the proper amount of money. He pushed the door open as far as he could and dragged his heavy bags out of the cab, gently kicking the door shut behind him. In the distance he heard the taxi pull away, and beside him the snow made the bottom of his roll-around suitcase wet, but Hiroki hardly noticed as he stared up at the large brick complex that stood before him.
A cold shiver racked his body and Hiroki snapped out of it, running for the warmth and shelter of the building. He stepped carefully to avoid stepping through the larger piles of snow and ice. Just as he got to the door and realized he'd have to buzz in to get into the complex, a young couple was exiting the building.
The man looked over and held the door open for Hiroki as he pulled his bag into the dwelling. "Thank you very much," Hiroki said, bowing deeply before remembering that Americans usually don't bow to each other.
"No problem man," the man replied, allowing the door to shut behind him.
The elevator was within sight, luckily. Hiroki pressed the arrow pointing up and the door binged immediately, so Hiroki stepped inside and hit the big "9" button. The doors slid shut and Hiroki jumped when the shaft began to ascend.
"914, 914," Hiroki repeated as the doors slid open once again on the ninth floor. He beared left and stalked up the hallway, almost dreadfully watching the numbers as they climbed in the direction of 914.
When he finally arrived at the correct door, it took Hiroki a few moments to gather himself before he knocked. Three times, to be casual.
A few seconds later, light spilled out from around the door and a young man stepped out.
To be continued…
X X X
So, I'll let you bask in wonder for a few hours. Next chapter will be up around noon tomorrow after my volleyball meeting. Just wanna make sure everything's squared away with it.