Anchor

Written by: RinoaDestiny

Comments: Iori being interested in Harajuku's street fashion is influenced by my talks with Mana_Sputachu (also on FFN). While my Iori originally didn't start out with this, talking to Mana opened that idea up and I decided to incorporate it (since it does fit with his fashion styles).

#29 – Day 2 (Tokyo Trip)

Iori skewered the remains of the sausage link with his fork, glancing over the hotel's dining area. Kyo, sitting across from him, was busy with platefuls of ham, sausage, pancakes, eggs, and the occasional bowl of miso soup. Iori had never seen him eat so much in one sitting and left him to it. Most of the other people here were also travelers – different dialects or accents – with a few foreigners gathered by the windows. A smattering of what sounded like Chinese from one distant table, followed by the smooth cadences of what appeared to be French from another. Fellow Japanese surrounded them – Kanto and Kansai accents apparent – with many either on vacation or on business.

One of the Europeans let out a light laugh from the corner.

Iori finished his breakfast and reached for his coffee.

"So, whaddya wanna do today?" Kyo had surfaced from his plates, looking satisfied and full. "We can hit up a museum, bookstores – if you like – or see if any of the jazz venues are open."

"What do you want to do?" Iori sipped his coffee, gazing at Kyo over the rim of his glazed ceramic cup. "Anything you're interested in?"

"Sports. Something loud."

"Will have to go outside of Roppongi for sports."

"Yeah." A piece of ham dangled from Kyo's fingers. "We can always come back here later. No plans, so do as we please. Sports, jazz clubs, a bar."

"There's also an amusement park."

Kyo snorted. "I'm past kiddy games, Yagami. Even if it is loud."

"One less place to visit, then."

"If you don't want to stay here, then we can see Shinjuku. Shibuya."

"Harajuku?"

"You visit there often?"

Iori shrugged and drank more coffee. After this morning's early rise, he was now considerably more awake. "The street fashions there are trendy. It's a good thing to notice if you're in the music industry." Harajuku might be Tokyo's trendsetter – the opposite of elegant and sophisticated Ginza – but what Harajuku did also influenced certain other regions of Japan. "I like being there."

"Huh."

Around them, people began to leave, grabbing small bags and purses. A quick look at the time on his phone showed the breakfast hours coming to a close. Gulping down the rest of his coffee, Iori placed the cup on the tablecloth and pushed his chair back. Kyo, who had devoured the rest of his ham in the interim, wiped his mouth and stood. With the first meal of the day done, they now had to decide where to go next. Iori wanted to drop by the nearest convenience store to pick up some disposable underwear, a few toothbrushes, toothpaste, and some other small items. Kyo, on the other hand, appeared ready to travel.

"So…Harajuku?"

"This is nice. So what are you observing exactly?"

"See that girl there? Under the tree on her phone?" A subtle nod towards said girl's direction. "That bright blue lace with the striped stockings? Or that guy's –" A head tilt towards the teenager striding on the opposite side of the street. "– jacket with the fur trim and chain links?" Omotesando was always lively, yet seemed more energetic today. "Musicians notice stuff like that. Becomes part of our stage fashion."

"You don't dress like them, though."

"Subtle influences, Kyo." Iori rubbed the underside of his jaw, glad he bought a razor blade this morning. "The leather straps on my pants? The extra belts? The fur trim on my last tournament coat?"

"That looked weird on you."

"How so?"

"Just didn't work. The fur looked…you looked…strange."

"That your only word for me?"

"You call me idiot, so we're even." Kyo's reflection in the nearby department store window revealed a strong profile. "What'd you think about me that year?"

"Should've unzipped your jacket. What'd you do to your hair?"

"Experimented."

"You dyed it black. Cut your bangs. Didn't recognize you at first."

"So we're even on that, too. Sounds like you didn't like what you saw."

"Prefer you with brown hair."

"Oh?" His lover uncrossed his arms and strode over, body language loose and casual. "How's that different from me saying you look nice?"

His cheeks burned; Iori fought to keep his voice level. "Because I'm stating a fact. You're flattering me in public, which I don't like."

"But I'm also stating a fact. My fact. Thought other people's opinions didn't matter to you."

"It's not about them. It's…" Being put on the defensive was uncomfortable. Iori shifted his weight to his other leg, never taking his eyes off Kyo. His skin prickled with heat, despite the mild temperature and soft breeze. "Don't mind it in private. But you don't have to bring it to my attention here. I know it, Kyo."

"Nothing wrong with it."

"No." There wasn't anything wrong with being complimented in public. It was just…unnecessary? "Just don't like it, that's all."

A fleeting expression on Kyo's face, so swift Iori couldn't pinpoint what it was and then Kyo sighed. Sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Trying to understand you, Yagami."

"You can do it without badgering me."

It wasn't an argument – they spoke low and quiet – but it wasn't a simple discussion, either. Fortunately, Harajuku's pedestrians walked past them, having other concerns and places to go. Iori felt the occasional odd or surprised stare – they really were a novelty, being together like this – but kept his main attention on Kyo. Kyo, who seemed to have difficulty grasping that there were just some things they couldn't agree on. Despite all his understanding before, Kyo seemed to approach this like an offense.

Iori wasn't sure where he'd stepped wrong, but he knew he had.

"Kyo?"

His lover, who frowned at the concrete walkway, raised his head. "Yeah?"

Something about how Kyo said that – was it too casual? – worried Iori, setting off his insecurities. He stepped closer and then stopped. Kyo looked back at him and Iori wasn't sure if it was uncertainty or judgment he read in the other's face. Uncertainty about them? About this whole thing? The trip? And if it was judgment…about him? Kyo called him strange. Was he…too strange now?

"Are you…regretting this?"

It hurt, saying that. He tried not to let it show.

Kyo's expression altered, startled. "No. Why'd you –"

"If you do, then I…" I can leave. You can go back to her. Everything he touched – every relationship he'd been in – eventually saw ruin. Because of him. Because of who and what he was. Perhaps, even this one. Yet, he couldn't say the words, because it'd be admitting defeat. It'd mean something else worthwhile destroyed. For once in his life, Iori couldn't bring himself to do it.

I don't know what to do.

"Yagami…"

They were standing on the side amidst a busy throng of mostly young people – people like them – and they…. Iori looked away from Kyo – Kyo, whose bewildered expression cut to the quick – and took a deep breath. He stepped back, a deliberate motion. Pain in Kyo's eyes. They were supposed to be having fun and enjoying their time together. But now…

He needed to get away. To put some distance between…whatever this was.

"I'll be there," he said, voice roughening. A slight head tilt towards the large department store on the other side of the street. "You can find me later."

"Yagami, wait."

He heard Kyo, but he'd already turned away, facing towards the street. His throat ached and Iori quashed the unsettling sensation within him. He just needed some time to himself. Maybe, then…maybe, he could figure it out.

But he wasn't sure when.

The department store was full of shoppers and there were discount sales at certain booths and vendors. Iori wandered aimlessly through the organized sprawl, mind elsewhere. Only once did he stop, seeing a pair of well-cut crimson pants in a display window. It was the only purchase he made – an easy action without much contemplation – and then he was out again, dragging his feet along the expansive polished tile floor.

You knew it was too good to be true. How easy it all was.

He couldn't tell if the voice in his head was his own or Orochi's. The only thing he knew was that it didn't lie. Everything before had been pleasant – overwhelmingly so – and he'd enjoyed it. Kyo did too as well. So he wasn't sure what…why it turned out like this.

Don't want it to end, huh?

Kyo had said he looked nice on the train. While it was likely true, it didn't lessen his embarrassment at the open compliment. Something private brought out into public. Kyo didn't understand that – it didn't faze him – and it was a fault Iori should've seen. From the beginning, Kyo was more enthused about certain aspects, such as dating. He hadn't – had pushed back. Kyo had relented then and everything was fine.

So why now? Why today?

Overhead, the large glass skylights let sunlight into the center of the department store complex. Iori gave them a quick once-over before returning his gaze back to the common area. Several benches were placed here and there, most of them occupied. The one closest to the escalator was empty; Iori headed towards it, lengthening his stride. Claimed it before anyone else could, placed his bag on the bench and then leaned forward, arms pressed against his legs.

He stared at the floor. At the reflection looking back at him.

His mind was awhirl, so full of thoughts that everything became a confused babble of internal sound. Around him, the quiet murmur of conversation continued, broken by the soft patter of footfalls. Time passed – he twisted the ring on his finger – until a different footfall sounded on his right. Before he could turn to look (to confirm), an iced coffee was in front of him.

"Don't know if you like this black, so got the usual. Mind if I sit?"

Iori accepted the drink, taking it from Kyo's hand. The other man gave him a wan smile and moved, sitting beside him with only the store bag between them. Iori wasn't thirsty but now he had something to hold. Condensation on the outside of the cup, cool and wet against his fingers. The coffee didn't look any different and yet…maybe Kyo had added sugar to it?

"Were you here long?"

An hour or more, maybe. He'd lost track of time. Iori shook his head.

"You look…" Kyo, speaking softly next to him, stopped. Silence for a few seconds. "Last time you looked like that was when Yuki…"

Iori didn't say anything. He remembered the incident.

Kyo sighed. "Didn't mean to…you looked lonely. And I did that."

Iori tilted the cup of iced coffee, watching as a few water droplets fell to the reflective floor. "It…" He didn't like to talk about private matters out here, especially in a department store with people around. Yet, Kyo had approached him first and had even…. Iori sighed, tipping the cup in the opposite direction. "Just needed to get away. To think."

"From me?"

He winced at Kyo's tone. He hadn't meant to continue the hurt. "You just…. When I say it makes me uncomfortable, I mean it."

"But why?"

"Because not everything needs to be declared out loud." The whole world doesn't need to know. "Appreciate it when it's just us."

"But it…"

"But what?"

Kyo fidgeted, partially obscured by the bag. "You never…told your girlfriends…your exes…that they looked pretty? In public?"

"No." It was something that could be said in the comfort and privacy of his or her apartment. "Why? Is it necessary? Does everyone else need to know what I think of her? Or you?"

"It just…feels stifling. Never had this problem with Yuki."

Iori lifted the cup, sloshing the contents inside. Hurt and jealousy at those words – a vicious retort waiting to be unleashed – and his response could either break or mend this relationship. A sudden tiredness fell upon him; he took a sip of the coffee, tasting the sweet syrup lying at the base of the drink. It gave him something to do and silenced the words lying behind his teeth.

"Yagami?"

The sweetness was cloying but not disgustingly so. "I'm not her, Kyo. Thought you knew that."

Silence.

"Why now?" The very question at the root of all this – at why this disagreement even started. "You were fine with everything else. Why this?" Why today? Why during our trip did you…

"I…didn't mean to offend."

"You listened before. Didn't push. But today –"

"You're handsome. And I can't say that? Ever? You know no one else cares, right?"

"But I do. Why aren't you listening to me?"

At his words, Kyo seemed to deflate. "This…" The other man rubbed his face with the back of his hand, weary. "This isn't working, Yagami. Not like this."

Iori's heart sank. Was it over? "You mean –"

"This day's botched. If we want to talk further, rather do it in the hotel. Not here." Without waiting for him, Kyo stood. "Unless you want lunch."

He wasn't hungry. Iori shook his head.

"Back to Roppongi, then." Kyo's tone was neutral, impossible to read. "I'll need to eat something, though. You don't have to join."

It cut deep and for once, Iori had no defense available. Standing, he took hold of his bag and gripped the coffee cup, fingers slick with water. Kyo looked at him, turned and left. Having no recourse, Iori followed.

The train ride back to the hotel was strained and silent.

With Kyo gone, Iori tried to fill the empty silence the best he could. Leaving the television on a random news channel, he went to the bathroom and started breaking in his new pants. It was snug, yet not tight and he had a decent range of movement, which was good. Being stylish was important to him and better if the clothing was functional. He was, after all, considering updating his wardrobe for this year's tournament.

Exiting the bathroom to the report of an international incident, Iori flicked a quick look towards the clock. The bright blue numbers showed the time to be five after three. Kyo had, true to his word, left to find lunch outside. After what happened earlier, Iori found it hard to begrudge him and opted to remain here. Kyo had only nodded – looking as if he wanted to say something – before closing the door behind him.

He'd never experienced this kind of hurt before. His childhood memories were different, shaded much darker. This was…it ran deeper, coming from someone he…

Iori took a sudden breath.

They were on a break together and they…

Over what? Raising his hands, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. Over his insistence that Kyo refrain from paying him compliments outside. Because he insisted, Kyo found fault with it – saw nothing wrong with his actions – and that was how this whole mess started. Was it because of him? Was that why Kyo complained?

He dropped his hands from his face. Sighed and suddenly needed a cigarette. He couldn't smoke in the hotel, but nicotine was now his necessity.

Grabbing the box he'd left on the desk, Iori headed for downstairs and outside.

Five o' clock was when Kyo returned, looking less disgruntled. Iori had finished his cigarettes and taken to reclining on the bed, listening to a game show when the door opened. A slight thump signified Kyo's toss of his wallet onto the desk and then the other man turned to look at him. Iori acknowledged him by raising his head to gaze back, observing how Kyo's gaze fell on his new pants.

A moment of silence.

"Those are new?"

Silence broken without rancor. "Yes."

"…Looks nice."

Was that hesitation? Iori sat up, ignoring the contestants' squealing coming from the television. Kept his focus fixed on his lover. "Kyo?"

"Yagami, we…about earlier…"

"What…about?"

Kyo sighed, arms crossing over his chest. "It's…any way to compromise on this?"

Iori blinked, opened his mouth and then closed it.

"It's dumb, Yagami. What we're arguing over. I get it – you don't want me expressing it everywhere. But if I can't even say you look good out there, then…" The line of Kyo's mouth firmed. "I won't be the only one making concessions."

Taste of nicotine in his mouth. "But I…"

"You have to give me some leeway, Yagami. Or this won't work."

"You'll…" He forced the words out. "…you'll leave me?"

"No, and I thought you knew that. But we can't keep circling around like this. Either I give or you do and that's not happening. Is what I did so wrong?"

"It's not wrong." He'd said that earlier, but repetition appeared to be necessary. "It's my level of comfort. Don't know why you have a problem with that."

"But why does it make you uncomfortable?"

Iori hesitated. The bed beneath him was soft, giving slightly as he leaned forward. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he left them pressed against the bedspread. His palms were cool for now. Trying to form a response to Kyo's question was a problem in of itself. He wasn't sure how to explain it. "You…" Or explain it in a way that Kyo would understand. "You ever…not like it when someone points something out to you…while everyone's there?"

Kyo frowned, a tiny furrow between his brows. "Such as?"

"When you were in school –"

"You mean when I paid attention?"

"If not to you, then someone else?" Iori ignored Kyo's flippant response. "Was there ever someone in your class that…the teachers praised but they…just didn't like it?"

A moment of silence as Kyo thought, expression showing remembrance at work. "There was one kid, yeah. She was good at many things, but…"

"But what?"

"Every time the class president made a comment, she…" The frown on Kyo's face deepened. "She'd blush and try to downplay it. Like as though…" Kyo's expression changed, gaze falling directly onto him. "Are you saying you're like that?"

"She found it embarrassing to be publicly put on a pedestal?"

"I guess. Not too different from what's usually done, but she was particularly –"

"She wasn't fond of it, was she?"

"No. She wasn't."

"Then you see where I'm coming from. With what happened before."

"But she did care what others thought. You don't. At least that's what you say."

Iori scrunched his fingers in the bedspread and inwardly sighed. "Kyo, I give two fucks about what others perceive of me. You know that as well. I just don't like certain things being called out. Even if you think nothing of it."

Across from him, his lover shifted, settling weight upon his other leg. "Can we start over? Or can I find a better way to…say something nice without throwing you off?"

"Don't mind your little gestures."

"You mean hand on the arm and all?"

"Yeah. You say it without saying it."

Kyo's gaze didn't waver and the man nodded. "Guess that can work. But if it shows on my face –"

"Don't care about that."

Kyo nodded again, expression lightening and it was as though the atmosphere around them brightened. Lost its dreary heaviness. Iori loosened his grip on the bedspread, leaning forward even more. He brought his hands between his outstretched legs. It was nearing his usual dinner hour – usual when he wasn't on tour or busy – and they now had an evening devoid of any plans.

"You hungry?"

As though Kyo read his mind. His stomach didn't rumble. "Might be later."

At this rate, Kyo's neck muscles were getting a workout. "I'll think of something. Leave it to me."

So, Iori did.

Dinner was quiet and uneventful. Kyo ordered pick-up on his phone and then left to get it. Iori, who found himself somewhat tired after the afternoon's incident, remained in the hotel room. After a quick shower, he curled up on the bed and took a brief nap, dozing off while clothed. When the door opened, he faintly registered the sound and continued sleeping. Kyo's hand brushed quick and warm against his forehead, lingering and then slipped away.

Sounds of a sports game in the background, along with commentators. Occasionally, he heard Kyo mutter or cheer under his breath. Fragrance of food in the air, replete with the rich smell of broth. Iori turned, buried his face in the pillow and gave himself a few more minutes.

Minutes passed and when he awoke, he glimpsed the containers of udon.

Kyo turned, saw him, and handed one over.

The contents were still hot. Iori slurped the slippery thick noodles, enjoying the broth and slices of beef. Kyo had taken his container as well and started eating, watching the baseball game playing on the television. While his lover wasn't focused on him, Iori paid attention to Kyo's every movement. The way he held his chopsticks close to the tips. The slight tilt of his shoulder. Light reflecting off his eyes like television screens in miniature. A small smile on his face.

Kyo had said he wouldn't leave him and yet…

A cold chill gripped Iori, settling deep in his gut. He'd almost…if he'd persisted and they hadn't found common ground, then…. He would've driven Kyo away with no one to blame but himself.

Tendrils of steam warm against his face.

He could've lost Kyo and that…

Iori returned to the remnants of his udon, trying to not dwell on his sudden discomfort. It was past. Done. They were moving on and he…. Don't be an idiot now, moron! Easy to say while his stomach twisted, as if forming knots. An excited sound burst forth from Kyo – a home run had been hit – making the joy in his face obvious. Kyo was happy. He was handsome. And he…he was here with him. Hadn't left, just like he'd promised.

The iciness dissipated within him. Iori drained the last of the savory broth from the container. Set it aside on the nightstand.

The remainder of the ball game went well, for Kyo's favorite team won. A few wild celebratory arm swings here and there, brightness in Kyo's jubilant face, and Iori suggested beer or whatever was in their mini-bar. It cost more, but it was part of their amenities and why not? He raided it first, passed a few drinks to Kyo and between the vodka, sake, and other liquor Iori had never seen before, they unwinded.

Towards the end – the clock's digital numbers showing ten fifty – Kyo yawned, stripped and ambled in the direction of the bed. Iori, already on it, threw his clothes aside and reached out for his lover. While they weren't in the mood for sex, it never precluded just holding each other, warmth shared between them. Kyo gave him a lazy smile and Iori held onto him tighter, as if afraid to let go.

"Don't worry, Yagami," Kyo slurred, voice gentle and mild. "Not gonna disappear on ya."

"Don't," he growled, his own voice low. "Don't."