London is foggy, rainy, and cold.
He wakes up at 6 am, starts working at 7 am, takes a break for an hour at around 12 pm, then continues working until 7 or 8 pm depending on where he is with his tasks. Akashi is accurately aware that he does not have to work so much, even without such an effort he could easily rise above not just his colleagues but his so-called 'superiors' at the office as well; it has always been like this, at school or sports or any function he has ever tried.
He prefers it though. He has always preferred being dutiful and hard-working over being lazy; it is intricately ironic too for he finds at least a good number of his diverse psychological issues are rooted in his overachieving character yet at the same time the only safety net he has from drowning in existential turmoil is actually being dutiful and hard-working. It is a cycle, an infinite loop only made finite by the fact that his existence is finite.
He could have rebelled to his father who so staunchly desired a cunning and old-fashioned 'Prince', straight out of Machiavelli's book, as a heir. He could have become one of those "Rich Kids of Instagram", uselessly and aimlessly revel in the riches he has been born into, refuse any responsibility and forever numb his too-brilliant mind with extravagance such that he would not feel so burdened... Or perhaps, he could become one of those self-righteous hipster heirs, 'dedicate' himself to a good cause or something, spend three months every year somewhere in Africa and become a world renown 'guardian angel' of the poor and unfortunate, while continuing on with his otherwise lavish lifestyle and spending his corporation's not-so-righteously-earned money freely... Best of the both worlds, really.
The problem is, he simply cannot. Despite knowing the futility of mortal life itself and always aware of some kind of innate nihilism, he can never give in, especially not through such senseless exorbitance. There is a part of him resiliently idealistic despite his overall dominating realism and when it comes to his habits and lifestyle the former interestingly overrules the latter, even though micro-decisions of his everyday life are handled almost always by the latter.
(No wonder his mind loves concocting various persona. It is an organised chaos inside there, all fractured and compartmentalised.)
So he works.
He works about twelve hours a day, if not more, and relishes in working so much not because he necessarily sees virtue in working itself, but he sees a great distraction from the miseries of existence, and the virtuous part is in not losing himself to mindless hedonism. There are times his colleagues, all of whom are much older, invite him out. He accepts such offers for dinner about once a week to maintain an aura of approachability, but he always rejects offers for drinking with vague reasons that will not leave an impression of prudery but also not of asocial frigidity. Obviously, it is not that he does not drink, in fact he has found a few nice pubs in the city and enjoyed them quite a bit. Life, overall, is not so bad, he can go watch opera during weekends or take walks in the old quarters of the city, savouring the history that seems to always sooth him. History is a stunning thing, both flatters and humbles one. He enjoys it.
He does not necessarily miss Nijimura.
He has been too busy to do that. His surroundings too interesting to remember home just yet. He never even sends Nijimura a message or honestly realises any need for it, nor reminisces about his raven haired lover thousands of kilometres away... at least until near the end of his second week in London. It happens so casually too: one Saturday afternoon he realises a craving for authentic Japanese food, the homesickness finally showing itself subtly, and thus he ventures to the most renowned traditional Japanese restaurant in the city. Being an international hub, London is great when it comes to food and given that he has no concerns on expenditure, he can taste anything he likes and they are all exquisite. The food he eats, course by course, only seems to get better and he is taken by how both the ingredients and the ambience follow the traditions perfectly. However, amidst eating, a nagging sense of disparity appears in the back of his mind and it actually takes him a while why he is feeling as though something about his food is distinctly imperfect. Because it certainly should not be.
This discrepancy between his logic and senses... it is bizarre.
However, his neurons are never lazy nor deficient in deciphering his enigmatic emotional constitution; it is often what to do with the extracted results that he can be lazy about, but not the actual process of troubleshooting. Thus, it takes him only a few seconds to realise what is specifically imperfect.
Nothing.
Nothing is specifically imperfect, on the contrary, it is the fact that the food is especially perfect that has pestered his senses.
Nijimura Shūzō is a decent cook by all means, but he is no chef. He is someone who learnt how to cook simply to aid the survival of his family, thus his culinary abilities are haphazard and practical than refined. Missing or unnecessarily added ingredients are the norm, recipes never well-defined and devised on the fly, end-results often presented in the most crude manner without much thought into making it look 'pretty'... Yet perhaps for the same reasons, for the very reason that he initially learnt to cook to feed the ones he loved the most, there is an undeniable tenderness that somehow seeps into the taste of the things he creates. He cooks the same recipes differently each time and thus every single serving is unique and uniquely his. His moods add flavouring to every dish he serves too; if he is nervous or upset they are a bit saltier, if he is sad or brooding they are a little lacking in salt... Akashi can tell his mood by simply taking a taste of the meal placed in front of him.
Then there is the talk.
Akashi has always known that consuming food is not simply for bodily sustenance for humans – no, the human species is admittedly much more complex and turns the most basic aspect of being an organism into something that is beyond that: it is cultural, it is artful, it is social, it is emotional... It is intimate at times. Dearly intimate. But knowing something, recognising a specific phenomenon via sharp perception is a lot different than actually experiencing it. Akashi never experienced it before.
For so many years, he had his dinners alone. In those rare evenings he had dinner with his father, the conversations are sterile and distant, even if they talk of things that are supposed to be beautiful, like a new ancient vase bought for the hallway, or discuss intellectual subjects, just as the food they consume, their conversations are perhaps exquisite in quality or content but always devoid of any emotion. It is forced socialising and perhaps for anyone else it would be painful but Akashi realises that by now he has mostly become desensitised to it; if anything, it is only tedious, but not instigating of any ache.
Thus, at the beginning with Nijimura, it was rather strange that he talked during meals. But usually the topics were and are of such mundane things and Nijimura's existence itself has never truly vexed him that the whole development had come natural to him quickly. Perhaps, there was more to it; perhaps, his human nature betrayed him and he was instinctively inclined to turn eating into a socialising of sorts, but this time not forced, not to exchange status updates but to candidly connect with one another, find comfort in the simplicity of the quotidian affairs...
Too many "perhaps"es fly around in his mind as they invariably do whenever the topic is Nijimura; he thought he understood the man perfectly well by now, his mind capable of calculating queries regarding his former captain with exceptional efficacy. Yet, there is forever a mystery attached to the man and to everything he does and to everything he induces in Akashi... and most important of all, how to deal with these feelings and attachments and yearnings he instils in Akashi? Generating probabilities is one thing, being able to see which one would come to fruition is another thing, then it is an altogether different issue to actually be able to handle the outcome.
He has always mastered this art yet when it is Nijimura, he finds himself second-guessing more and more and even revelling in the unexpected outbursts and unpredictable occurrences at times.
Still, as he walks to the expensive hotel suite he is staying in London, in a dreary night of March, the weather not cold enough to be winter nor warm enough to be spring, he is profoundly aware that he has missed eating Nijimura's cooking and chatting up with him as they ate, yet this awareness is not causing any chagrin at all in his ego. He is sure just three or four months ago such a realisation would displease him to say the least, because he has never liked getting used to things, especially changes in his private life, and has always been very cynical about habits of comfort and affection. Somehow, now it does not pull a single nerve in his body or push any panic button in his mind; it is almost taken for granted. Perhaps, he should be scared of this in itself, that he has disarmed himself to this degree, but then he has never been one to be easily scared, so it should not be surprising that he is not now either.
Where are they going with this? With 'this' that he cannot even identify yet, a relationship for sure, a loving one too definitely, yet what kind of love? What kind of a relationship?
Just as the question is asked in his mind, he realises how he utterly does not care at this point.
This is interesting; this, he finds truly interesting.
His cold fingers grasp the phone in his pocket and taking it out they have already started swiping from muscle memory and soon he is writing a text message to Nijimura. It is too early in Tokyo, so he is surely asleep, but he can always take a look at the message in the morning. It is only after he types out and sends the short message, "I would like to have nabe when I am back in Tokyo", he realises how uncharacteristic of him it is to ask for favours like this.
Because even though it sounds like a command, it is not, and that is precisely the atypical part: Akashi Seijūrō does not ask for favours, appeal for things. He has been brought up to either command or require and be fulfilled. The social implication of this is that he never asks for friends for socialising, unless it is a command that serves a specific purpose or a requisite due to etiquette. He has spent most his school festivities alone for that matter, others would huddle and he would attend out of courtesy if invited, but he never invited anyone specifically, again, unless civility required it or there was a tangible end to order such an invitation. Fortunately or unfortunately perhaps all his life there have been people who did not care for this well calculated distance at all; Reo, especially, continuously tipped it around its boundaries and played with it. Reo is probably one of the rare people he ever demands things from, not as orders of execution but as favours, as friendly wants or perhaps even caprices.
Then there is Nijimura now, with whom he can demand things – intimate things, familiar things, mundane things, bizarre things, any and all kinds of things so easily. At the beginning, it was mainly within the domain of sex and made sense too; sex, being a dialogue, necessitated it. As their attachment grew out of the bounds of sensuality, as new commitments and affinities were born, demanding from Nijimura became as natural as eating alongside him.
It is similarly curious and peaceful.
He is not expecting the silent vibration of his phone as he is putting it back into his pocket but it is not as if Fate always relents to his expectations; to his surprise, it seems Nijimura is not sleeping.
[From: Nijimura-san]
["Nabe? with just 2 ppl? rlly?"]
He chuckles quietly as he taps on the virtual keyboard, "I did not know there was a minimum threshold of companions required for nabe, but if you would like more people, we could always invite our ex-teammates."
It takes only a few seconds for Nijimura to reply,
[From: Nijimura-san]
["hell no, how am i gonna fit all those huge dudes in my tiny apt?!"]
[To: Nijimura-san]
["If that is your concern, fret not, I would not mind hosting you all in my house."]
[From:Nijimura-san]
["u can't be serious, do u know how much they'll mess up ur place?]
[To: Nijimura-san]
["I have a housekeeper just for that reason."]
[From: Nijimura-san]
["ok fine but how are we gonna bear it all night? not a restaurant, can't just leave when we had enough of Kise's tantrums or power forward ego showdown between aho n baka duo"]
[To: Nijimura-san]
["You have a point there. I am afraid we will have to do this with just the two of us then."]
[From: Nijimura-san]
["hmm sucks huh? but yeah I guess so too."]
Akashi chuckles earnestly again into the chilly breeze, he assumes conversation to end at that point. He does not even ask why Nijimura is awake, it is 98% probable that his dutiful senpai had to stay late for work and could not sleep afterwards, it happens sometimes even when he comes to Akashi's place, at such times he will just spoon and watch Akashi's face in bed – knowing this, being watched liked that somehow gratifies Akashi. He has never been watched in his sleep by anyone other than his mother during childhood, he is conscious about such vulnerable moments normally but there is no threat that could come from Nijimura and there is a subtle satisfaction in being showered with such a tender gaze. An unknown peace is roused, feelings of security blooming under such a careful watch. Thus he lets it be, much uncharacteristically.
If Reo heard these, they would throw a fit and claim that it is precisely because he is allowing Nijimura this exceptional access that he is giving Nijimura a chance to hurt him.
And Reo would be right in that, his mind considers for a moment, for the same logical reason he has kept himself away from others so long; he watches others intimately but never allows other way around. Abruptly his phone vibrates – for some reason, he relishes in this little mishap of calculation on his part again, instead of being irked by it.
[From: Nijimura-san]
["hey akashi, you're doin fine right?"]
He did not call or inform Nijimura when he landed in London, because... why would he need to? If something had happened to his plane, it would be all over the news anyway; plane crashes are still rare enough to make it into news every time they occur. His father had never required him to make such calls in the many trips he took even as a child. He did not call Nijimura or text him at all since he reached London, because... why should he need to? It is not as if Nijimura's existence is insignificant to him, if he has to be honest, perhaps the raven haired man has recently become one of the most significant human beings for him. But it is one thing to feel affection for someone, even yearning for them at times, but it is an altogether different thing what that affection is and how it plays out, how that yearning is codified and acts out.
It is different.
The way they are is ultimately different; it is just a simple message but he can clearly see the multitude of concerns and longings buried beneath it silently and knowingly.
He sighs and feels a little guilty; not because Nijimura blames him or would ever blame him; in fact, knowing to have caused guilt would probably lead Nijimura to blame himself. Still, for a person with acute awareness of things and people around him, Akashi should have deduced and acted accordingly, even if his emotional make-up does not require it, Nijimura's does and a relationship is not about one person's needs. That is mostly why people form relationships based on mutual needs and pay attention to reciprocity. That is mostly why Akashi and Nijimura's relationship is doomed to fail, probably.
But what is Akashi Seijūrō if not a freak of nature, a supranatural probability that should not exist in the first place, at all? What is he, if not a delusionally vain creature daring Fate and defying the intrinsic frailty of his species?
Thus as he types out his next message, he is not scared of probable futures, or concerned, or self-blaming, instead smiling and making adjustment to his future travel habits,
[To: Nijimura-san]
["I am fine, thank you. I hope you are doing well as well."]
[From: Nijimura-san]
["yea i'm fine. cool then, i'll just try to sleep."]
He does not even think a moment or pause before he types "Sweet Dreams" and hits send. He does not receive any response for it, as expected, Nijimura can be awfully sappy in his outbursts and unbelievably aloof (or in desperate need to maintain aloofness) rest of the time.
If he was in Tokyo and they were in bed, Akashi would turn after uttering the endearing sentence and let sleep slowly invade, Nijimura would likely say nothing but whisper it in a mumble later on, when he is half-sure Akashi would probably not hear it.
Akashi would hear it though. He has heard it countless times. Suddenly, he feels that it wouldn't be bad to be in Tokyo now, in bed with Nijimura and play that small game of awkward displays of affection.
He is sure it will leave his mind come morning as he delves into work, it will not flood him or bring agony, but for that moment it is a nice yearning; not a consuming fire but a peaceful and alluring thought.
Is this enough?
He wonders, can yearning of this kind match yearning of another kind?
Would it be enough to sustain a relationship of such carefully acknowledged imbalance?
He is not sure of the answer and his brain is stubborn to actually process the probabilities this time, something inside him snickers – that one, that particular one is a pitiful person yet he has forever been a master as snickering. Akashi does not mind though. Not now.
As the cold breeze, the wintry remnants in the early spring embrace his face and body cruelly, he tucks his face into his scarf a little more and quickens his steps. He is certain that he does not mind the snickering, nor the fragility that is proved by his rejection of any advance calculation this time. There is a seed of hope inside him that is powerfully resilient and he is comforted by its resolute serenity.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Akashi returns only four days before the start of the new term. Nijimura has successfully wrapped up his work before then as he had planned, hoping to spend some more time with the redhead before the beginning of another torturous year in academia. He has missed Akashi but it is hard to express this, still fearful that exposing such yearnings which likely do not have correspondence in Akashi's heart could rattle the fragile and intricate dynamic they sustain. It was not surprising, for that matter, how the heir did not bother calling or messaging him for over a week after his departure; it was, however, blissfully surprising that he started sending a message or two once every few nights or so later on.
Did something happen to Akashi? Did he miss Nijimura too, perhaps? Is it even possible, for Akashi to miss someone? If so, how does he really miss others? Is it in any way similar to what Nijimura felt or is it something different?
He has no answers to such questions and is often deliberately ignorant of them, for asking them could lead to further inquiries that are less savoury and full of tension. He does not want tension now, he wants peace. He wants Akashi to come back home. He wants to wrap his arms around Akashi. He wants to feed Akashi with the meagre culinary skills he possesses, watch films together while eating ice cream and listen the redhead turn into a professional film critic of sorts, take a bath together and see their skin flush from the heat of the water and their eyes to daze in the steam and from the thirst that water and nudity always brought along...
The simplest things, he longs for, but such mundane affairs are never boring and almost surreal in Akashi's company. This, he believes, is the effect of love; however corny it sounds.
In an attempt to introduce some normalcy to their relationship as well as thinking that Akashi has probably missed some authentic Japanese food, he invites him for dinner at a relatively upscale restaurant soon after Akashi's arrival. It will cost Nijimura a whole week's worth of pay and is a nonsensical move considering Akashi's wealth, but he finds comfort in the idea that despite all the disparity between them materially and immaterially, it is something that they would both enjoy and thus, why not?
The moment offer is made and courteously accepted through a phone call though, he can feel a nagging sense of something is wrong. The feeling only intensifies when they meet and finally arrive at the restaurant.
It is hard to read Akashi.
He is a master of pretence, artful in his veneer; if he does not wish to be read, it is almost impossible to read him. Thus, throughout the night while the small talk continues as though not a single thing is wrong, Nijimura's inner anxiety continues to rise dramatically and all kinds of ideas and concerns resurface in his mind.
Nijimura has never been good at charade, his true thoughts or concerns always find a way to seep through and sometimes he outright bursts the bubble of enervating guise. So perhaps it is this specific nature of his that ultimately leads to the awkward yet unmistakably charged 'joke' he makes upon hearing that Akashi also had to visit Amsterdam for a day:
"I hope you didn't flog anyone this time."
His face has apparently warped into a sneer and he is not aware why his words drip with such poison all of a sudden; is it his bad temper throwing a tantrum? Is it his dissatisfaction with Akashi's nonchalance despite the obvious tint of vexation in their atmosphere? Is it buried hints of insecurity trying to crawl up to the surface? Is it –
Questions in his mind come to a halt as Akashi neatly repositions himself to look at him directly in the eyes and there is obvious displeasure on his face but more importantly his brows slightly furrow and his gaze his chiding. Akashi is literally giving him a reprimanding stare down and when he speaks his voice is calm but almost scolding,
"Why would you say that?"
"It is a joke."
"Yes, on the surface."
Silence befalls them then and it seems that Akashi is waiting for him to explain but Nijimura himself is unsure what to explain; a childish guilt starts whistling inside him and he feels even more uncomfortable. This conspicuously causes Akashi's gaze to soften and he starts after clearing his throat silently,
"I should have clarified this when 'this' first started, but to be honest with you I wanted you to feel the insecurity and uncertainty right away so that if you do not feel ready, you can quit early. It was ostensibly out of compassion but it was awfully cruel and sly of me, for that I am sorry. I really am and I did not mean to hurt you."
"What do you mean?"
"Nijimura-san, I have not slept with anyone after our relationship started. Not even during our initial intimate arrangement, though frankly at the time it was more because you were more than enough for my palate and hectic schedule. However, after we have come to an agreement to continue on with our relationship in its current context, I have made it a principle to not be with anyone as long as I am with you."
Nijimura considers the statement for a second,
"Is that... what you want though?"
Akashi's eyes flicker at the question and Nijimura can see fondness fill them as a small content smile graces the thin lips candidly,
"What I want is to have peace and you give me that. What I want is my libido to be appeased and you give me that. You give me all I want, I do not see the reason I would need any other?"
Nijimura's heart is in his throat, anxiety stews in the pit of his stomach; it is not necessarily because the words are not lovely to him, the words he heard are excessively delightful but completely unexpected to the point that he is simply too shocked to give a response. Akashi takes this as his cue to elaborate,
"I do not think I am monogamous but I also do not think that it disallows me from having a monogamous relationship. I am not a jealous person at all but I can be possessive and territorial, basic human nature after all and I've also been brought up to be viciously so. However, I will obviously never hurt your socialising due to that, so rest assured. I will also expect similar behaviour from you, but that should not be a problem, should it? I believe we are both mature adults in this respect."
Nijimura ponders silently, calm tone of Akashi's voice lulling his disquiet into oblivion. He closes his eyes for a few seconds to fully comprehend the magnitude and implications of the statements he heard, and nods his head slowly.
Akashi's smile turns impish then,
"Thus, no. I have not flogged anyone in Amsterdam. I will not be flogging anyone but you for the foreseeable future."
Nijimura is sipping from his sake to diminish any remnants of stress when the comment is made and he almost chokes on it, the reaction seems to amuse Akashi even more and introduce a predatory glint to his pointed stare.
"That..." Nijimura starts rubbing his lips with the back of his hand, "was the weirdest declaration of fidelity I've ever heard."
Akashi chuckles,
"Weird? I suppose by what most consider normalcy, we are indeed quite 'weird'."
"Yeah..."
"I thought you liked me with a whip in my hand though?"
"Do you really want to discuss that here?"
"Well you were the one who brought up the subject."
"And I am sorry for that."
It is a genuine apology, his voice lost its brash tint when he uttered it in perfect seriousness. Akashi nods simply in acknowledgement then pauses for a bit, his eyes wandering as if looking for something.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No. Not really. But I am sorry too."
"For what?"
"You can see through people better than most, even if you are not very calculative, you can intuit. You have always had a good intuition so you must have realised that I was rather distant and displeased, it must have bothered you."
Nijimura blinks, taken aback by the sudden revelation and the sheer audacity of such honesty and humility from Akashi of all people,
"You don't have to say sorry for something like that. I was just confused... Is something bothering you? Did something bad happen in London?"
"No... Actually, it is quite silly and has to do more with self-indulgence than anything else."
"Pardon me?"
"Nijimura-san, I appreciate your kindness and thoughtfulness, but one thing I can afford wherever I go is exquisite food, prime samples of the famous cuisines, special recipes of grand chefs. However, I cannot afford having someone cook for me – someone who is not a chef, not a housekeeper and so forth, but a person affectionately cooking for me. Quiet silly of a yearning, isn't it? Yet it seems I've come to be very fond of it."
"Are you seriously telling me you were sulking all this time because I took you to dinner at an expensive restaurant instead of cooking for you at home?"
Akashi's lips purse slightly, it is not exactly a pout but something akin to that (probably the closest thing to a pout that Akashi has ever been capable of) and it overwhelms Nijimura, he can hardly keep himself from bursting into laughter,
"I have not been sulking."
"Yeah, sure. I mean my food is probably not even half as good as what we are eating here."
"Not 'probably': your food is 'definitely' not even half as good as what we are eating here. But the point is not the quality of food, one does not judge their likings based on objective quality necessarily; it is a subjective matter."
If it was a witty comeback perhaps he would not be affected so but the professedly pretentious answer he receives just triggers him to cackle loudly, to which Akashi at first purses his lips tighter to but later his features soften and he gives an earnest smile.
"Akashi..." Nijimura starts as he takes his sake with one hand, other rubbing the tiny droplets of tear formed on the ends of his eyes out of laughing so obscenely,
"Yes?" Akashi inquiries with a smile,
"It seems I kind of missed you."
"Is that so? It seems I have as well."
Perhaps it is not in the same way but at that moment as he regards Akashi to resume eating gracefully and neatly like always, Nijimura thinks that it is fine, that he does not mind if the roots and branches of their emotions are of different colours as long as they meet, as long as he can continue bearing the giddy yet soothing hope that pulsates in his chest.