Chapter 10

Hiroki thought he and Shinoda would simply go for a walk, but somehow—either by Shinoda's persuasion or Hiroki's own lack of resolve—they ended up at a bar. Having drinks with an old acquaintance whom he barely trusted wasn't the best idea, but Hiroki found security in the engagement ring on his finger which, until a few moments prior, he hadn't paid mind to. Moreover, they were at the bar he and Akihiko frequented, providing Hiroki with the comfort of familiarity to cushion the awkward tension that was bound to ensue from their conversation.

They sat at a small table just across the counter, a window to the side of them giving an up-close view of the busy sidewalks. The waiter promptly attended them and they had their drinks ordered no more than a minute after being seated. After the waiter left, Shinoda hopped into conversation, or rather small talk. Hiroki found himself courteously engaging with the man about the weather, current events, and other things he didn't care about. Hiroki thought that maybe, Shinoda had a pressing issue to discuss, something involving Nowaki or Takumi; but now it seemed Shinoda was only taking frivolous advantage of their chance encounter.

"So, when are we going to start talking?" It was a blunt approach, but Hiroki had lost reason to be polite with the guy.

Shinoda's eyes widen at the question before receding to their slanted state, his sight wondering towards the window. Had he taken offense? A potential lull in their dialogue was avoided as the waiter returned with their drinks and quickly left them be.

"I saw Nowaki this morning when he came to pick up Takumi. I noticed a ring on his finger." Shinoda eyed Hiroki's ring briefly, following it as Hiroki raised his glass to his lips. "I would've noticed earlier, but apparently he only wears it when he's not at work." He returned his attention to the window.

"What about it?" Hiroki sat down his drink.

"So you two tied the knot?" Shinoda's index traced the rim of his glass as he fixed his eyes on Hiroki.

"We're just engaged. Not that it should matter to you." Hiroki gave a silent sigh, sliding his half-empty drink to the side.

"Kusama interacts with my son, so his lifestyle is my concern."

Lifestyle? What exactly was Shinoda implying? He couldn't have had a problem with Hiroki and Nowaki being in a gay relationship since Shinoda himself was into men. And the possibility of Shinoda referring to he and Nowaki's pending marriage was just as bad. Their current lives, their married lives weren't and wouldn't be fundamentally different from that of any other working couple.

"This is something you could've easily talked about with Nowaki," Hiroki said, trying to keep calm and not aggravate the topic.

"But I want to talk with you," Shinoda said.

Such emphasis led Hiroki back to his initial assumption, that Shinoda indeed had something important to discuss. Hiroki gazed out the window, unknowingly furrowing his brows. As much as he wanted to be rude, he couldn't. For Nowaki's sake, he'd try to get along with Shinoda. This was Hiroki's sole reason for sticking around.

Shinoda chuckled at Hiroki's expression and finally took a sip of his drink. "Would you feel more comfortable if I hadn't confessed to liking you?" He set down his glass. "Well, don't worry. I was joking."

"You weren't," Hiroki countered. "Regardless of your tone, you wouldn't have said it unless you meant it. You did that a lot back then. You'd say things to taunt me, but there was always some truth to your words."

Hiroki's own statement alarmed him. Out of the blue, he'd remembered their past, as if the memories were buried in him the entire time.

"Oh?" Shinoda leaned an elbow on the table, palm propping his jaw. "What else do you remember?" He cocked his head.

"Nothing much than that." Besides Shinoda pressuring him to give up on Akihiko, Hiroki truly didn't remember much. "You were pushy."

"Do you know why I acted that way with you?"

"How would I know the reason behind your actions? I had other things to do besides analyze you." He was sure Shinoda had outside problems and obligations of his own back then. The fact that Shinoda could remember enough about their interactions to relay them years later was a tad alarming.

"It was because you were too wrapped up in yourself. You wallowed in your own emotions and did nothing to help yourself."

It was both offensive and baffling that Shinoda claimed to know such things about Hiroki after their measly affair. They'd known each other for a few weeks at most. Was Shinoda that into him? "Really, what else do you know about me?" Hiroki reached for his glass again. Though he thought to humor Shinoda with the question, he came off sounding more serious than he'd wanted.

"I know you're prideful, at times to your own detriment."

What the hell? Hiroki glared at Shinoda, mouth parted, speechless. Shinoda may have understood Hiroki enough to make such an observation, but no sane man with decent interpersonal skills would say such a thing in public. Hiroki may not have liked the guy much, but he had figured Shinoda to be a sensible man. Maybe he'd given Shinoda too much credit.

"You're wondering how I could know so much about you, right?" Shinoda shifted his hand from his jaw and rested his chin on the back of his hand. "It's because you're exactly like me."

Exactly was an overstatement. How could Hiroki, with his reserved and shrewd personality, be even the least bit similar to a meddlesome man with a loose filter? "So what you've said about me can apply to you…"

"Sure."

"And somehow that makes you feel entitled to meddle in my affairs, to tell me what's right when you don't know any better than me." Hiroki's heart rate rose with the passive realization that his words had slipped into present tense. "So, what's the point of telling me this?"

"Oh, I just thought you'd appreciate an explanation to why I asked you on this date," Shinoda said with an unsuspecting smile.

"This isn't a date!" Hiroki argued, attracting the fleeting attention of nearby customers. He hung his head, bringing a hand to his forehead as the tension passed. "Be more straightforward..."

Shinoda's lips parted and closed in silence, as he gazed pensively out the window. He then suggested moving their conversation elsewhere, likely due to Hiroki's short outburst. Hiroki bitterly complied and followed Shinoda out of the bar, staying just a few steps behind him as they passed several stores and shops. It didn't occur to Hiroki to ask where they were going, but since they were in public, he wasn't too concerned.

"I was fine before I saw you again," Shinoda said, taking slower steps for Hiroki to catch up. "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since then." He stopped and turned, freezing Hiroki with a revealed dejected gaze.

Shinoda's lips struggled to form a smile against his sullen features. "My wife Reiko overdosed a few months after Takumi was born." The words pierced the cold air.

Hiroki could only stare at Shinoda, trying to process the bombshell the man had just shared with him. He could feel the unbearable weight of the statement through Shinoda's voice. Hiroki recalled Shinoda telling him she'd passed away, but he hadn't mentioned the cause.

Why was Shinoda telling him this? Hiroki had to wonder. One didn't share heavy details of their past so freely. Fleeting suspicions of Shinoda's intentions came to mind, but they were pulverized by a rush of concern and sympathy. The people walking passed them faded in the distance. It took Hiroki a moment to realize they were the only one's standing before a convenience store.

"I'll spare you the gritty details, but I'll say this much," Shinoda said, turning forward, tightening his grasp on the handle of his suitcase. "She suffered from postpartum depression and one night she took more pills than she should've. The doctors were sure it was accidental, but I can't rule out the possibility that she committed suicide."

Shinoda walked to the railing along the border of the sidewalk. He set his briefcase and shopping bag on the ground before sitting on the railing, supporting himself with his hands wrapped around the bar.

"I didn't know much about what happened at the time, so I can't say with confidence either way. The truth is, once I learned she was pregnant I took on more hours at work to support us. And once Takumi was born I was hardly home as a result. I trusted Reiko to take care of our baby and the house matters. I didn't know she was suffering. In fact, I was so far removed that I failed to notice the over-the-counter pills she'd bought." Shinoda paused for a spell of nervous laughter that did little to delude the regret and sorrow in his voice. His eyes lowered to the concrete.

Hiroki swelled with sympathy at Shinoda's story. With each revealed detail, a fragment of burden seemed to leave Shinoda as the tension in his voice subsided and his fingers loosened around the railing.

Hiroki would be lying to himself by saying he wasn't curious about Shinoda's marriage, but it wasn't something he'd expected the man to reveal. And Hiroki certainly wasn't going to let Shinoda continue if it was causing him such anguish.

Taking a few steps to lessen the space between them, Hiroki thought of asking Shinoda to stop but found himself observing Shinoda instead. With Shinoda's sight still focused on the ground, the man's bangs completely covered his features making it impossible for Hiroki to decipher an expression from his angle.

After a long pause, Shinoda lifted his head and stared listlessly through the windows of the convenience store. "If I'd spent more time with her, if I'd gotten to know her better, I could've helped prevent it in some way and Takumi would still have his mother. I took too much pride in my position as a father, a husband. But aside from providing financial support, I didn't know how else to care for my family."

Shinoda's eyes locked with Hiroki's. "After Reiko died, I decided to become a less prideful, less selfish person for my own sake, and most importantly for Takumi. Yet somehow seeing you again, and rediscovering my feelings for you revived my selfish side. When I saw you with Nowaki in the park, I thought of ways to annoy you—lure you my way. Even today, I tried to trick you into a date." He shook his head, a semblance of a smile forming on his face. "I'm really no better off than I was back then."

Hiroki thought Shinoda to be many things, but a man of self-doubt was not one of them. If Hiroki had cared enough at the time, Shinoda's request for Nowaki's help would've been a huge indicator.

"There's nothing you can really do if it's work related, right?" Hiroki said, settling beside Shinoda on the rail. "I'm not saying you weren't at fault, but you had pure intentions. Even if things ended badly, even if it was preventable, you did the best you could at the time. And…that is admirable in itself." Hiroki spoke the last sentence with caution. Not only was he giving Shinoda advice, he was complimenting him, something Hiroki thought would never happen.

Hiroki glanced at Shinoda, catching his profile before looking away again. "Terrible things happen in life, and even if the memory of those things haunts us, we need to find the strength to accept it and move on for our own sanity."

Their conversation quieted after Hiroki's poignant comment. The sounds of passing cars and distant chatter grew prevalent by the second.

"Thank you." Shinoda took a breath and rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders before stretching his arms in front of him.

Hiroki stayed on the railing, looking up at Shinoda. "Why tell me?" he asked. He thought it might be an insensitive question, but he felt comfortable enough to not worry about it. "Surely, you didn't want advice," Hiroki added.

"I don't know." Shinoda picked up his bags. "Maybe it's because of our history. Maybe, in an odd way, I actually trust you."

Shinoda was being genuine; Hiroki had no cause to believe otherwise, but he still wondered how Shinoda benefited from their time together. It was understandable if Shinoda simply wanted to get things off his chest, but he was still Shinoda.

"So, you told me your story to show your trust for me in hopes that I'd return that trust." It was a cynical suggestion but Hiroki couldn't put it past the man.

"That seems like something I would do." Shinoda's chest rose in laughter. "But no. I'm not that calculating. I simply felt that I could tell you." He extended a hand to Hiroki, "But I do want a relationship with you. Nothing sexual or romantic, of course. I value you as a person. Plus, with Nowaki and Takumi involved we're better off getting along."

"I knew that much," Hiroki uttered to Shinoda's last sentence. He stared at the hand before him. He had no reason to doubt Shinoda now. Whatever happened between them over a decade ago was dead and buried now. Hiroki accepted Shinoda's hand and quickly released it once he was on his feet.

"You and I are linked. Deal with it," Shinoda winked.

"Stop that!" Hiroki hissed. It seemed teasing him was a diehard habit.

Shinoda's brows raised, feigning innocence. "Stop what?" Such a facade may have worked for Nowaki, but on Shinoda it was unsightly. As with Tsumori, Hiroki would simply have to tolerate Nowaki's choice in questionable, flirtatious friends.

-—-

Shinoda's apartment was a ten-minute walk from the bar. Hiroki agreed to follow him home, knowing Nowaki would be there. Shinoda and his son lived on the second floor of a small complex just walking distance from the clinic. It appeared to be an average well-kept complex from the outside, but the orange street lights flickering intermittently over their surroundings suggested otherwise.

Shinoda opened the door to his apartment and stepped in. Hiroki remained in the doorway with one foot in the genkan and the other outside, reluctant to enter. The short hallway offered a glimpse of their living room and dining area—a polished western table with matching chairs where Nowaki and Takumi sat, engaged in a textbook of some sort.

"Dad!" Takumi's eyes shot to the door. Leaping from his seat, he raced towards them launching forward and hugging his father's waist, his energy comprised of all the cheer in the world.

Shinoda brushed the top of his son's head and crouched down to embrace him.

"I'm sorry, Shinoda-san," Nowaki stood from the table and walked towards them, "Takumi wouldn't sleep until you returned." Nowaki looked casually passed Shinoda, noticing his partner. His brows raised in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Takumi asked, eyes glistening with concern, gazing at his father as their embrace released.

Shinoda plastered a smile on his face and slowly stood. "Nothing, son"

"I'm more mature than you think I am!" Takumi snapped, giving everyone a wave of shock. The boy's expression grew serious as he focused on his father with determined eyes. He resembled a peeved man in a child's body. But in spite of Takumi's strong statement, his following words left in a tremble. "If you're feeling bad isn't it better to tell someone? Maybe I don't understand many things, but I can try. I can help." Takumi's already glassy eyes flowed with tears. "We only have each other…"

Shinoda melted into a smile at his son's declaration. Not only had his son stood up to him, but in those few sentences Takumi expressed wisdom that Shinoda had followed not too long ago with Hiroki. All this time he'd been trying to protect Takumi from loneliness when Shinoda himself was desperately seeking relief from the same thing.

"I understand," Shinoda said tenderly. He leaned over and kissed his son's forehead. "But Takumi, don't forget…" Shinoda gazed ahead at Nowaki and then over his shoulder at Hiroki. "It isn't just us anymore. We have Kusama and Kamijou."

The boy's eyes lit up as a lone tear streamed his cheek. Takumi glanced Nowaki's way and to Hiroki where his sight lingered.

"Um," Takumi stepped forward and paused. The boy glanced at Hiroki then to the floor again, his cheeks beet red, hands clasped and trembling. When Hiroki first saw Takumi he could barely look at strangers, much less address them. But now, he was fighting through those nerves.

To say that Nowaki was responsible for this change would be unfair. Though Shinoda doubted himself as a father, the man's sheer dedication and expression of care for Takumi proved he had as much of an influence on Takumi, if not more.

Takumi brought his arms beside him and bowed before looking up again, eyes fixed in an anxious gaze. The scene brought a light smile to Hiroki's lips and he nodded in acknowledgment.

Nowaki disappeared from the hall, returning seconds later with his duffel bag. He strode into the genkan where he slipped on his shoes. When the couple prepared to leave, Shinoda thanked them, paying a nod to both men.

Nowaki cast Hiroki a look of curiosity, likely wondering what Shinoda was thanking him for. Hiroki was still figuring that out himself, not that it would matter in the long run. However, taking into account the love confession Nowaki had overheard last time, Hiroki would undoubtedly have to do some explaining once they got home.

-—-

Hiroki submerged himself in the covers, eyelids falling soon after his head hit the pillows. Earlier he'd told Nowaki about his meeting with Shinoda and the gist of what they'd discussed. And after doing so, fragments of the conversation he'd had with Shinoda began intruding Hiroki's mind. So much had been said through Shinoda's subdued yet high running emotions. In face of Shinoda's tragic past, Hiroki had almost forgotten the indirect criticism Shinoda had thrown his way prior.

Shinoda had said they were exactly alike, but Hiroki wasn't for such absolutes. Were they alike? Maybe. After Shinoda bared his insecurities, Hiroki did notice an underlying similarity. They'd both been focused on their own being, their own way of doing things, making them fall blind to the reality around them—Shinoda to his wife, and Hiroki to a number of things.

Hiroki couldn't deny that a majority of the dilemmas he and Nowaki had endured through the years were a direct result of such behavior. But that was Hiroki back then, it spoke nothing of who he was today.

Grumbling, Hiroki sat up and rested an elbow on his lifted knee, propping his forehead in his palm, "I'm still that way…"

Shinoda's stream of regret had reminded Hiroki of his own. Just a few hours ago, he'd convinced himself that his own reluctance to contact his parents was rooted in his fear of Nowaki being rejected and hurt in the process. But the only one who'd truly be hurt was Hiroki.

He had his pride to protect after all. The longer he could avoid that challenge and save face, the better—so he wanted to believe. He was going against the promise he'd made to Nowaki last year. He'd somehow abandoned the desire to share everything with Nowaki, to hold no secrets. Just last week Nowaki had faced the regret and heartache of his own past, for the sake of their promise, for their future. If Hiroki couldn't do even that much for Nowaki, he couldn't call himself a good partner, or a good man.

The bedroom door creaked open, casting a strip of living room light across the mattress. Hiroki groggily opened his eyes, seeing Nowaki's silhouette before darkness enveloped the room again.

"May I join you?" Nowaki's whisper resonated.

"Please, do." Hiroki meant to sound more welcoming, but his voice was ragged.

He felt Nowaki's weight sink into the mattress and soon he was cocooned by Nowaki's high body temperature, strong arms encircling his frame. Hiroki caught a whiff of shampoo as Nowaki rested his chin over Hiroki's shoulder.

"You destroyed a potentially sexy line," Nowaki cooed, the vibration of his voice making Hiroki shudder.

"I wasn't trying to be sexy!" Hiroki hissed, shrugging Nowaki off him, only to be pulled onto the mattress as Nowaki leaned his weight back. "Nowaki!"

With Hiroki still in his arms, Nowaki's lips cruised along the nape of his neck, causing Hiroki to shudder again before his muscles loosened. The kisses unraveled to a slow pace, tracing every inch of Hiroki's jawbone and working to his ears. Nowaki's thumb simultaneously grazed the tip of Hiroki's upper lip, moving to his fuller bottom lip.

With Hiroki's libido on the rise, he turned in Nowaki's hold and claimed his partner's lips in a brief but fearless kiss.

"Good night," Hiroki whispered as he pulled back, detaching himself from Nowaki. He rolled to the other side of the bed, hugging the covers tightly to his body. He knew if they continued there would be no resting for either of them.

Nowaki scooted to Hiroki's side of the bed and placed another kiss on his ear, "Hiro-san—"

Abruptly, the house phone blared from the living room nearly shocking Hiroki out of his skin. It rang a few more times before Nowaki left to answer it. Hiroki found himself slipping into sleep as he listened to the echo of Nowaki answering the phone.

"Hiro-san!" Nowaki darted back into the room."It's your mother!"

The announcement had Hiroki dashing out of bed. His mother never called, so the fact of her doing so was astonishing. But for her to call late at night…something dire must have happened. He raced over to the phone.

"Hiroki?" his mother's voice came through the receiver. She was undeniably shaken. "Your father had a stroke. He's in the ER right now…"

He placed his hand over the counter, his finger's shaking as he balled them into a fist. He needed to be there! But there was nothing he could do at this time of night. They didn't own a car. Any train he could take to his parent's town were no longer running for the day. And Akihiko was out of the country for his honeymoon, so Hiroki couldn't ask to be shuttled there.

Hiroki stood feeling helpless. If he'd conjured the courage to call them sooner he might've been able to help prevent whatever had happened. "Dammit…" Hiroki cursed beneath his breath. Nowaki appeared beside him, bringing him into an embrace. Hiroki clutched his partner's shirt, whimpering into his chest, eyes dry of tears. "I waited too long…"

Four more chapters to go...