Akihiko's housemate, Misaki, let us in. I figured out some time ago that this young man was also his lover, and had nothing but pity, and a little awe, for the poor idiot stuck living with such a difficult baka. Akihiko got up from the couch, escaping his editor, Aikawa, and . . . Isaka. Akihiko noticed my expression as he came toward us.
"Don't worry, Hiroki, I'm making him sleep on the couch," he said in a low voice.
"You couldn't push him off on Haruhiko?" I growled.
"He tagged along with Aikawa." He replied. "Misaki wouldn't let me throw him out," a little too gleefully pinning the blame on Misaki, who moved to elbow him, but stopped himself in front of guests.
"Thank you for letting us stay here," Nowaki said with a bow. It seemed like he had directed his words more at Misaki than Akihito. I suppressed a grin as I met Akihito's amused lavender gaze with one of my own.
"I'll show you to the room," Misaki said.
"Hey Hiroki!" Isaka said, spotting us as we followed Misaki up the stairs.
"Isaka," I said with a curt nod. I knew Nowaki was curious about my reaction: it was coming off of him in waves. My head hurt. Too many people who knew me too well. Misaki pushed open a door and we followed him inside. In the middle of the dim room was a futon, snaking around it was a toy train set.
"Sorry about the mess . . . he likes to collect things," Misaki said embarrassedly. I was relieved it wasn't the bear room . . . all those beady, staring eyes . . . .
"Not at all," Nowaki said with a smile.