For all Shuusuke knew, maybe it was a good idea. It wasn't that late, and maybe Yuuta had gone to see a friend, or maybe he had gone out for an emotional, street-pounding walk; in this area, it would be refreshing and not at all dangerous.
Maybe Yuuta had gone back home home. That's where Shuusuke thought that he might have retreated, back when he and his parents were on more than cordial phone-calls-on-holidays terms, and since Yuuta still talked to their parents a lot, it made sense. It also made Shuusuke uneasy; would Yuuta decide, once he was back in the safety of his old bedroom at home, that a relationship with his brother was too much for him? How would he react when their parents would be able to tell that something bad had happened between them and would probably radiate quiet disapproval? Yuuta was like both poles of the globe: he would strike out and claim territory for himself if it was what he desired, but he also had an irrepressible need to please the people he cared about and earn their approval. Both these facets of his personality glued him together and prevented him from leaping off into space, but they also meant that Yuuta was surprising, sometimes. Not often - almost not ever - but sometimes.
Maybe Yuuta would surprise Shuusuke this time. He probably deserved it, if he did. Something was wrong with their relationship, and Shuusuke knew that it was at least mostly his fault, if not entirely. He still couldn't bring himself to commit. To what, exactly, he wasn't sure, because he was committed to Yuuta, wasn't he, there was no one else – there had never been anybody else in his whole life – but there was still something there that wasn't right, and it was affecting Yuuta too. That was what hurt and made Shuusuke feel alive in his dark apartment: the fact that Yuuta was being made to feel pain because of him.
There was a brighter shaft of moonlight than the rest lying across his wooden floor, and Shuusuke realised the balcony door, set into the expansive glass window that made up the entirety of one of his living room walls, was ajar. Yuuta hadn't gone out after all...
"Yuuta, I'm sorry."
Yuuta remained staring out at the city, but Shuusuke noticed that his neck tensed, as if he'd been about to turn his head but had then thought better of it.
"Do you know what for?" Yuuta sounded less interrogative than he'd probably intended.
Shuusuke started to say something, but fumbled (how could he have fumbled?) and fell silent while he tried to bring forth the words he wanted.
The silence went on too long.
"So you didn't notice that something was wrong just now? Or that something's been wrong for weeks?"
Shuusuke wanted to join Yuuta in resting on the decorative wrought iron handrail, but Yuuta was radiating personal space like a firefly radiated its own light, and he realised that maybe right now he didn't deserve such closeness.
"I've noticed, I've just..."
"Just what?"
Shuusuke wished that Yuuta didn't sound the very opposite when he was trying to be short with him. He wasn't supposed to sound cute, and he knew that he definitely wasn't supposed to sound upset, but the tiny fluctuation in his vocal tone betrayed him. Shuusuke wanted very much to take him seriously, though.
Shuusuke also wanted, very much, to be able to explain what he'd been feeling, and how he'd been acting, but he didn't know if he could.
The silence went on too long.
"You still think we shouldn't be together, don't you." There was no question mark. Shuusuke wondered if there were such things as sadness marks instead.
"I..." he hesitated, again.
"Tell me what you're really thinking, aniki - please." Yuuta turned round to face his brother. His eyes looked wider in the moonlight. "Tell me what I need to hear, and not what I want to. Please."
Were what Yuuta needed to hear and what Shuusuke needed to say the same thing? He initially thought not, but then he realised that what he wanted to say – "I love you, Yuuta" – was not what he needed to say, and that it would do neither of them any good.
Yuuta had been right.
"I... don't think we should be together, no."
Shuusuke thought he heard Yuuta sigh, but he could have been mistaken.
"Why have you still been with me, then? I don't think I understand that bit."
"Because I... because I love you, Yuuta."
Shuusuke wondered why he was trembling all of a sudden. It wasn't cold out on the balcony.
"Do you know what love is, aniki?" Yuuta wasn't expecting an answer, though. "I... I can't keep on doing this. I can't. You tell me that you'll stop being stupid, and that you'll stop thinking that you're making my life go wrong, but you just can't do it, can you?"
Shuusuke knew that Yuuta was forcing his face into a glare then to prevent the leakage of other, less welcome, emotions.
He could have said something, in response to Yuuta's question, but something fatalistic was preventing him. He told himself that he wanted to hear everything Yuuta had to say before he did any talking of his own, but...
"And you know, it's kind of ironic, because you've made everything go wrong just by believing that it will. It's funny, really, I guess..." Yuuta's voice seemed to fail him here, and Shuusuke sensed he'd intended to add something else but had decided against it to maintain a steady tone.
He felt as if he should say something here, but Yuuta had been doing a lot of thinking out on the balcony, it seemed, and if Yuuta had reached the same conclusions that he had reached years ago – that Shuusuke would be bad for him, and that nothing they had could be long-term – then it would do neither of them any good to have him protesting.
"Are you really not going to say anything?" Shuusuke couldn't tell if Yuuta was angry or disappointed. He seemed a lot less angry than perhaps he should have been. "What are you thinking, aniki? And please don't say 'I love you, Yuuta', because it's weird, and I want to hear things I don't already know. Please?"
"I don't know what to say, Yuuta."
"So that's it? You're going to let me walk out of here tonight because you think it's better for me than being here with you?"
"Do you not think it would be better?"
"No! No it wouldn't!" Yuuta's previous calm was melting away as the effects of his meditation out in the night air dissipated. "I want to be inside, with you, showing you how much I... showing you a really good time! I'm never – well, it's – well, I feel great when we're together – when you're you, anyway – and I want that all the time. If I walk out tonight, I'll still have my job, and I'll have a place to stay, and I'll have my friends, and they'll take me out places and I'll probably find... someone new, but it's my second choice, aniki; it would be my second choice."
"I choose you, Shuusukechuu?"
That was entirely the wrong thing to have said, even with an ironic eyebrow raise.
Yuuta was laughing, though. It just wasn't a happy laugh.
"This is really it, isn't it? You don't really want me to leave, and I really don't want to leave, but you're going to let me just to fulfil some stupid idiotic idea you have, aren't you? I know what you're doing – you're making me angry so that it's me who ends this, so you don't have to feel guilty about finishing it yourself. Do you know how stupid that is? Do you?"
"I've always been stupid for you, Yuuta."
Inside, Shuusuke was horrified at himself, but it was too easy to slip into treating Yuuta like this when they were at such an important juncture. If he slipped up, Yuuta would stay. So he couldn't unclench his fists for him, and couldn't wrap his arms around him and bring forth the torrent of apologies he deserved, and he most definitely could not kiss away the almost-unnoticeable waver of his lips. That would be going too far.
"Yes – yes you have. And you've brought nothing but unhappiness with it. You know, the only reason that this hasn't worked is you... you know that, don't you?" He could have sounded accusing or vindictive, but all Shuusuke could hear was suppressed upset and crystallised truth. "The only reason I'm going to have to leave is because you haven't let us work. That's the only reason. So don't start thinking to yourself that I've vindicated your stupid, stupid logic by leaving, because it's you who's brought all this about."
"Yuuta... I..."
"Don't bother saying it; I already know. And I believe you, but... I'm still going."
Shuusuke let Yuuta walk to the balcony door unhindered.
"I'll be back for the rest of my stuff at the weekend. I won't need any help in packing it, so don't bother. And don't worry, I won't be bringing anyone you won't want to see."
"Have a safe journey home, Yuuta."
"'Call me to let me know you got home, okay'?" Yuuta laughed the same laugh as he had done before - the one that sounded as if all the cheer had been sucked out of it – and then shut the door.
Shuusuke waited for half an hour on the balcony, staring out at the Tokyo lights that would always remind him of Yuuta in the highs of passion, twinkling and colourful and beautiful. He'd stopped twinkling at night recently, so it was good that he'd gone.
His apartment felt dark when he let himself back in. Shuusuke enjoyed the dark, and that had not changed when Yuuta had been living with him, but it really felt dark tonight, as if there was nothing outside at all. He felt glad for the lights outside, reaffirming the existence of a world beyond his home.
Shuusuke hoped that Yuuta had gone back to their parents' house. Even though their relationship was disapproved of, Yuuta was always welcomed back with pie and cake and warmth, because he was their mother's boy, and far too sweet for anyone to refuse. It would be good for Yuuta to be welcome and fed tonight.
Shuusuke thought back to how he had been feeling before he spoke to Yuuta on the balcony – his selfish, confused thoughts of almost wanting to keep Yuuta for himself – and was glad now that going back home was something he wanted for Yuuta. It was better for him this way.
Before he went to sleep on the sofa, Shuusuke checked for notes Yuuta might have left him. There were none, and it was probably better for him this way.