"I'm home."
"Welcome back."
Saionji noticed the potted fern immediately, sitting on the counter beneath the window in a manner that would have been unobtrusive if not for its unfamiliarity. Touga was playing with the cat absently, pretending not to notice Saionji's reaction.
"You've been out?" Saionji asked, weighing the possible outcomes for this turn of events.
"I thought this old apartment could use something to brighten it up."
Touga had shown no prior interest in interior decorating, and Saionji knew that the nearest garden store was quite far away- at least two trains, by the quickest route. So why had Touga gone to the trouble? Saionji's brow creased with concern.
Seeing this, Touga continued. "The landlady asked if I could pick something up, if I was going out. I hadn't been planning on it, but she's been so obliging. I couldn't turn her down."
The cat, unsatisfied with Touga's token efforts at amusing it, stalked off indignantly. Touga looked after it with a look of mild disappointment, but made no pursuit. Instead, he took out a cigarette and lit it.
Saionji fixed Touga with a long, hard look, which Touga failed to meet, again pretending to be preoccupied. Saionji was certain that Touga wasn't telling him something, that Touga had gone to the garden store for some particular reason that he was refusing to share.
But it was refusal, not neglect. Saionji had given Touga a chance to tell him what was going on. He might as well step back now, and trust the matter would sort itself out, as excruciating as that course of action was. He carried the bag of groceries he was holding over to the fridge and started putting them away.
He was about halfway done when the potted fern once more caught his attention. He stepped closer to study it, reaching out with one hand to feel the foliage. It was purple-tinged, lacy, with a pattern of pale green on the top of the leaves.
Over his shoulder, Saionji said, "You're right. The fern looks right here. Thank you."
He knew that, from across the room where he sat, Touga was feeling relieved, though he would never stoop to showing it.
