Anchor

Written by: RinoaDestiny

#5 - Solace

Kyo's voice over the phone is tense and angry. "One of my sponsors dropped me." The news – first time Iori heard of it – falls like a sharp descending blow. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds and doesn't wish to assume, but the question's already formed in his mind. After another second, he asks to find out.

"Why?"

An irritated sound and Iori could almost see Kyo fuming, likely stomping around in fury. He wonders where he is. "Not representing Japan in an honorable light. Bullshit. Said they saw something in a tabloid paper."

There's a sinking feeling in his gut and while it shouldn't have surprised him, it still does. "Something about us?"

"They didn't say."

No. Of course not. Meanings were couched in polite words and meant to be inferred. He does this now with what Kyo mentioned and while he might be wrong, Iori doubts it. "Do you expect others to do the same?"

"How should I know?" Kyo snaps and Iori closes his mouth tight, feeling the sting of Kyo's temper even here at home. He leaves his half-eaten lunch on the table, pushes his chair aside, and stands. Runs a hand through his hair, disheveling it. Waits for Kyo's anger to cool, knowing its target isn't him.

After a minute or two, Kyo speaks again, voice muted. "Sorry. That wasn't –"

"It's probably us, Kyo. They don't have to say it."

There isn't anything else Iori can think of besides that. It isn't even scandalous, but it'll affect their fans' perception of them, which in turn will influence their finances. Rivalry sold big, particularly a long-running one like theirs; maintaining the illusion will be difficult, since their feelings have changed. While their fans did consist of girls and women, majority of their followers were also men and their main sponsors were Japanese. That was the other difficulty.

"Have you…"

Kyo doesn't need to finish the question for Iori to divine its meaning. "No. I'm not Japan Team, Kyo. Maybe that's why."

A muttering on the other end. Iori walks out of his small eat-in kitchen and heads towards the main room and its open window. There's a pleasant afternoon breeze, which accompanies the cityscape outside. He stays by the window, looking out and keeps his silence.

"I don't regret it, Yagami."

Important words. Words Iori would've thought, given enough time.

"What if there are more, Kyo?"

It is, Iori thinks, also important that Kyo's ready for additional censure. Japan is slower to change, clinging to its traditions and mindset and for all the female love of relationships like theirs, their society as a whole still disapproves. Iori expects something to happen to him as well – maybe not dropped sponsorship but a falling away of fans – and while that doesn't bother him, it fits the pattern in their home country.

Disapproval here comes sheathed; the blade delicately revealed and wielded with the wound made before anyone is aware of it.

Kyo's sponsor would never come out and be direct about it, but Iori knew. Kyo, for all his bravado and temper, likely knew the cause as well.

"Then it happens," the other man says on his end.

Iori waits a moment before continuing the conversation. "Will you be ready for it?"

A pause. "I'll manage."

"Their loss," Iori says, glancing to his left when sunlight sets aglow something in the distance. "There will be others, Kyo. Others that won't mind."

"You think so?"

"As long as we fight – make a good performance – some won't care."

"It'll be rough, though."

"Yeah. We need to expect that, now that they know." It wasn't as if they've been hiding it. All of those times together outside – lunches in restaurants and quiet parks – without any hints of violence between them? Even without going on a given name basis – he was reluctant for Kyo to change his method of address – their relationship was plain to see. When the heirs to the two rival clans were on such friendly terms with each other, an easy assumption was made.

In this case, the assumption was correct.

They still hadn't gone on what Iori considered a date. Not that it made much difference now.

"Are you at home?"

He places his palm against the glass and pushes the window open a bit more. He needs the breeze, for it's comforting and clears his mind. "I am. You coming over?"

"Will that be a problem? You busy?"

"No."

"I won't take much of your time."

Kyo probably wanted to talk, to vent, to rail against this first unfortunate upheaval in his life because of their changed circumstances. Iori doesn't regret it, either, but that can be conveyed directly once Kyo arrived. "Stay as long as you want. You belong now, you know."

Words he'd never said to anyone else. Not even his former girlfriends.

Another pause but it feels different this time. "Thanks."

He lingers by the window. Feels the wind against his face, his hair. He blinks. It's not often he's in this position, offering solace instead of being given it. An aspect of their relationship he's learning, however slowly it may take. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No."

"I have a train bento box. Rice, pickled plum, curry."

"Sounds good. You have beer?"

"Yeah."

"Be over in ten. That okay?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry about this, Yagami." It's not often Kyo apologizes, either. Iori makes a mental note to consider dinner for two as well. He doesn't think anything's going to happen tonight. The other man simply needs to talk and figure things out. He can do that – he's learning after all.

"Don't be."

Their call ends afterwards. Iori gazes once more at the beauty outside and then leaves. He keeps the window open, though. He likes the breeze.