Anchor

Written by: RinoaDestiny

#38 – Presence in the Silence

"Everything okay?"

"Slept badly last night. It's nothing." Iori waved his concern aside and headed for the multi-CD player with its large stereo speakers. The piece of technology was outdated, but Iori had a fondness for it. Dressed in tight blue jeans and a loose gray shirt, Iori looked normal except for the shadows under his eyes. Some mumbling and then Iori turned to him, a CD case in hand. "Boney James?"

Kyo shrugged. "Up to you."

A few mutterings followed by Iori popping the CD in and starting it midway. As the saxophone rolled in, Iori's shoulders eased and yet, tension remained in the rest of his body. Kyo joined him by the stereo speakers and handed him the cup of instant ramen he'd bought at the nearby convenience store. Iori took it silently, mood unchanged.

"Got us lunch."

A quick trip to the eat-in kitchen to prepare their ramen and once done, they settled down on the couch, waiting until the cups were ready. Iori had no books around him – a rarity – and sat there, twisting the ring on his finger. Kyo knew the day before, Iori was at the Yagami estate; although, with no word from Iori, he'd assumed everything was okay. Would it be presumptuous for him to ask?

"You sure everything's all right?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

Today wasn't a day to go prying and Kyo had no wish to irritate his lover. Reaching up, he placed two fingers on the back of Iori's neck and began to rub in circles. Sex was out of the question, too – Iori's mood wasn't conducive to it – though, with their most recent romp, it wasn't necessary. He wanted to help, but Iori being tight-lipped meant he had little to go by.

"Feel better?"

A nondescript sound emitted from Iori. Not much, but at least he wasn't being completely shut out.

"We can eat soon." Kyo removed his hand from Iori's neck, going for his chopsticks and ramen cup. Ripping the paper lid off, he welcomed the steam and the fragrant smell of salty chicken broth. "Like this song. What's it called?"

Iori answered him through a mouthful of curry noodles, focused on his meal. Taking the hint – he didn't quite understand what Iori said – Kyo worked on his own, chopsticks busy. While there were a variety of flavors and different kinds of instant noodles from other countries, he preferred the original. Simple, straightforward – nothing complicated. Slurping noodles down, Kyo glanced at Iori from time to time. With the thick curry and generous portion of potatoes and vegetables inside, Iori didn't slurp; instead, shoveled the contents into his mouth, gaze directed forward. For whatever reason, Kyo sensed a wall between them – something was bothering Iori – which meant it wasn't coming down anytime soon.

Mentally sighing, he finished the last of the noodles and drank the broth, completing his meal. A moment later, Iori placed his empty cup alongside his, chopsticks lying neatly on top. The near-quiet sound of changing tracks, a new song playing (despite the saxophones sounding the same to Kyo). Iori had leaned back against the couch, face unchanged and once again, fidgeting with his ring.

Kyo suppressed his sigh and reached again for the back of Iori's neck, feeling for the vertebra. Iori glanced at him, expression one of…mild annoyance, curiosity, or maybe none of those and something else? It was hard to tell right now.

"I'm not gonna melt just 'cause you're doing that."

Annoyance, then. "I know. Just want you to feel better." Slowly, he continued making circles in that spot, Iori's skin soft beneath his roughened fingertips. "You've been quiet since I arrived."

"Tch."

"Nothing happened yesterday at the –"

"No."

Iori's curt response was suspiciously quick. Kyo frowned, mirroring his lover's expression, which deepened into a scowl. If he pushed here, he ran the risk of creating a rift between them. Whatever this was – it had to be linked to the Yagami estate – Iori's reticence spoke for itself. Backing off would be the wisest course of action. Changing the subject would help, too.

"Golden Week's almost here."

A small grunt of agreement from Iori.

"You want to do anything? The clan's not holding any meetings and Dad's taking Mom to Kyoto for a brief trip. It'll just be us."

"Still have to go to the estate."

The clipped and sparse way Iori said that alerted Kyo to his underlying conflict and the possible source of his turmoil. "Everyone's taking the week off. Sure the government ain't gonna destroy the place just because –"

"They have conditions."

"Which can go burn during Golden Week. Come on – what'd you say?"

"Can't go far."

"Course not. What about the bar? Been a while, right?"

Iori's scowl returned, lines creasing between his brows. "Want to relax. Not deal with Yakuza. If they're there –"

"Right." While Iori could handle the lot, it'd be more unwanted stress. It wasn't just the average civilian getting time off. "Then –"

"My place. Hotel. Wherever we can fucking relax."

Kyo widened the circles he continued rubbing near the top of Iori's spine. "We'll do that, then. Your call."

Another song change – the saxophone sounded higher this time – and Iori shifted, hip bumping against his. "What'd you know about peonies, Kyo?"

"Huh?"

"King of flowers, much beloved by the Chinese and considered the same by us. Fleeting like cherry blossoms and just as beautiful."

"Yagami, what does this –"

"Nothing. Nevermind about that."

He'd missed something there – what was that about? – with it being too late to pursue, Iori shutting down the discourse before it started. It was important, though, despite coming from nowhere. Peonies? How did that have any relation with Iori or the Yagami estate? Did they have peonies there?

"Yagami…"

"I…. Just ignore that, Kyo."

Kyo sat there, fingers against Iori's neck. His lover was troubled and nothing he did today seemed to work. Cupping his hand around Iori's nape, flesh warm beneath his palm, Kyo drew Iori close and leaned into him. Pressed his cheek against the hard muscle of Iori's shoulder, solid through the soft sleeve. Iori's natural scent mingled with the clean smell of laundry detergent, always pleasant. Beside him, Iori made an awkward sound, as if his voice caught within his throat.

The music played on, covering their silence.

Kyo wanted to say something about cherry blossoms and then reconsidered. The last thing Iori needed was impromptu poetry. Also, he wasn't sure about the context before. Fleeting sounded melancholy, which appeared to fit Iori's mood. He wanted to alleviate it, not worsen it.

"Lunch was good."

He tilted his head to look at Iori, whose gaze was soft but still haunted. The Yagami estate and peonies – random and yet related – leaving him with the "why" and "how". Iori wasn't saying much, besides that strange digression and wasn't revealing anything else. Perhaps this wasn't his dilemma to solve?

"I'm glad. Could've gotten something else, but –"

"It's what I needed."

His lover's voice had dropped in volume, husky and vulnerable. Moving on impulse, Kyo applied light pressure to Iori's nape, guiding him down towards him until they reclined on the couch. Wrapping his other arm around the small of his back, Kyo held him. This time, Iori looked at him and then settled his head against the plane of his shoulder.

Breathe in, breathe out. Iori's chest rose and fell atop his.

The music stopped. The room was quiet.

Kyo pressed a kiss to Iori's forehead, a hair strand or two silken beneath his mouth. The other man said nothing but tension ebbed out from him, back no longer stiff and rigid. A small sigh escaped Iori, as if seeking release.

Yet, it was not the time for words.

All Iori needed was his presence and his silence. Those, he could give.

Comments: Took another month-long break to recharge and also decide how to proceed with the upcoming events prior to the next major story arc and character arcs. Considering how easy it'll be just to meander, I had to sit back and think for a while. Now that I'm ready again, let's rock and roll! Also, belated Happy Chinese New Year (hoping for a great Tiger year)!