The morning has a way of turning back to all the flaws of yesterday with a beautiful and unflinching eye. Upon the first moment of consciousness, Nokoru finds himself stifling a sigh. He showers glumly, lathering his pale body under lukewarm water. He dresses and fixes his tie while avoiding his own eyes in the reflection of his 19th century French mirror. He almost trudges down the hallway but forces himself to adopt a less pathetic gait before reaching the dining hall.
Now, Nokoru drinks his coffee while surveying the newspaper with feigned interest. One of his older brothers is in town on business and is sitting across from him, talking spiritedly in Spanish to a former colleague who has called to announce an upcoming visit to Japan. Nokoru allows the foreign verb forms to roll through his mind, translating them—for fun—into Italian and then French.
When his brother finishes the call and has tucked the phone back into his breast pocket, he turns to Nokoru with a critical eye.
"Well, you're looking every inch of an angsty teenager today, Nokoru-kun. Well done," he comments cheerfully. He takes a careful bite of powdery white pastry and watches his youngest brother blink.
"I wouldn't say angsty," Nokoru says with only the softest edge of defensiveness.
"Oh, come now. You look like you're dying to skip school, lock yourself up in your room, and write a depressing poem in the dark."
At this, Nokoru can't help but show his alarm.
"Don't worry, little brother—you're still as beautiful as ever and I highly doubt the hordes of overly-hormonal fanatics that trail your every step will notice anything out of the ordinary. But I know you..." he leans in on his elbows and looks serious, "and if you have anything you need to talk about, let's just have it out now, okay?"
Nokoru lets the sheafs of newspaper fall gently onto the table.
"It's just..."
He can't really tell his brother anything. Out of the eight siblings, he does not know this brother particularly well. He is seven years older than himself and has been living in Madrid and Barcelona for years. It's not that the Imonoyama siblings are all strangers to each other, but their ambition and talents have led them all on separate paths across the globe that only occasionally cross.
In some ways, even this house is more of a hotel than a home—maids, servants, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles coming and going at odd hours. Last week, Nokoru woke up in the middle of the night and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. In the hall, he sleepily realized that there were loud voices coming from the first floor library and entered to find two of his older sisters and one older brother getting enthusiastically wasted on a several bottles of very, very expensive wine from their mother's private cellars. They offered him a glass, which he graciously declined, and by the time he'd returned from his Saturday brunch with Suoh, they were already gone—had already packed up and disappeared on 6 am flights back to Tokyo, Beijing, and Seoul.
That's just how life is in the Imonoyama household—the family members sweep in with their Louis Vitton luggage and handsome suits, sharing animated experiences about their times in Zimbabwe, Mexico, or Papau New Guinea, argue about the state of Japanese politics, slyly hint about new beaus, tease each other regarding embarrassing paparazzi shots and tabloid rumors. Nokoru has none of the childhood recollections shared by many of his peers, for—indeed-his childhood has been an unconventional one.
"Girl problems?" his brother inquires conspiratorially, searching Nokoru's face for any hint or clue.
Nokoru says nothing.
"...Boy problems?"
Nokoru flinches almost imperceptibly, caught off-guard by the unexpected question.
Thoughtfully, his brother leans forward. He manages to catch Nokoru's eye and holds it with earnest seriousness.
"Just answer this one question for me. Are you...are you being safe?"
Nokoru stares.
"I mean," his brother elaborates, choosing to speak his words slowly and cautiously, "are you...being safe? You are using protection, right?"
"Oh my god. I can't do this." Nokoru shoves back his chair, grabs his briefcase from the seat next to him, ignoring his brother's loud apologies, and practically sprints out the front door.
The walk to school is a gauntlet of endless waves, squeals, and blushes. His charm is unfaltering, as usual, even as he mentally tries to abort the constant replays of his previously horrifying breakfast. He's not sure which idea is more terrible to him: his brother attempting to give him "the talk" or the idea of sacrificing his virginity to his smirking childhood nemesis.
When he reaches the student council office, Akira is the only person present.
"Where's Suoh?" Nokoru casually asks while setting down his briefcase next to his large desk. Momentarily forgetting yesterday's embarrassment, Nokoru darkly notices a memo stuck on top of a disorganized pile of papers that reads,
"Did you ever find the second part to that document?
I did.
In the trash.
Kaichou, please organize this after your lunch period."
"He has a presentation to give for the middle school student council this morning and left early to prepare."
"Ah." Nokoru doesn't sigh in relief, but allows himself the palest glimmer of hope that today will be completely normal. Sure, it started off on a terrible note, but at least Suoh hasn't let the trauma of seeing him make out with Idomu prevent him from leaving mildly condescending memos so early on in the day.
That same thread of optimism follows Nokoru all the way through the morning.
"See, things will be fine," the voice assures him as the fourth period bell rings shrilly across the grounds.
"It's not like he will judge you any differently," it continues cheerfully as he steps out into the hot afternoon sun.
"He probably didn't even-"
"Kaichou!"
The voice implodes with the feeblest of whimpers and Nokoru feels as if someone has just poured a bucket of ice water down his back.
"Suoh," he spins around and smiles brightly. Even the stress of masking his panic fails to ease the knots that naturally form each time Nokoru glances over at his friend. Thick, dark hark brushed over those gorgeous hazel eyes, full lips taut with the usual seriousness, permanently tanned skin, wide shoulders and a trim waist—a body of beauty, masculinity, and control. Nokoru notices that Suoh has undone his top button from the heat and can see two sensual collarbones peaking out behind the starched white fabric. He looks away but not it's not quick enough.
"The air conditioner has broken down in the middle school student council room," Suoh explains, gesturing to his uncharacteristically lax dress.
"Ah," Nokoru eloquently responds.
"Did you find the memo I left for you on the desk?" Suoh inquires, giving him a sidelong glance as they walk.
"Of course. I would have found that document in the end, you know," Nokoru lightly counters.
"Oh, you think?" Suoh asks. The voice is teasing-a rare thing for a Takamura before lunchtime. Nokoru notes this out of place playfulness and stores the information with his other mental analyses of his bodyguard.
"Suoh," at this, Nokoru pauses and places a hand on his friend's upper arm while leveling a massively charasmatic grin, "Absolutely. I didn't get to be president of the high school by pure luck, you know. I am where I am today because-"
"You slept your way to the top," Idomu finishes cheerfully, sliding up alongside the duo. Nokoru's hand drops from Suoh's arm as if burned.
"God, you're annoying," Nokoru deadpans, all traces of his previous smile erased. Idomu shrugs and smiles, waves 'hello' to a passing acquaintance.
"Why are you here?" Suoh demands. His fists are tight at his sides and his jaw is tight.
"I can't stop in every once in a while to see an old friend?"
"You were just here last night," Suoh growls through clentched teeth.
And bingo, there is the reference to last night that Nokoru has been silently dreading all morning.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Nokoru asks, trying to keep a civil tone.
With a careless flick of the wrist, Idomu consults his watch.
"I have a meeting with the engineering club in an hour, but I'm free until then. Join me for lunch?"
"No, thanks." The tone becomes icy, steeling itself in the humid, baking air.
Lofty as ever, Idomu raises his palms and starts to walk away.
"I see. Well, I'll be calling you later."
"That's not necessary!" Nokoru raises his voice, but Idomu is already striding away, leaving in his wake a string of curious onlookers and tittering coeds.
"I'm still confused as to why he's still here," Suoh mutters, maneuvering his way to the high school division's council building with a still slightly ruffled Nokoru at his side.
"He got approval to work with the engineering club on a big project they're currently working on in conjunction with Imonoyama Engineering."
Suoh is puzzled.
"But who would have approved him-after what he did..." he drifts off, allowing the lack of words to complete the imagery.
"I did," Nokoru admits. When he notices that Suoh is giving him a look out of the corner of his eye, he explains himself. "Listen, Idomu isn't an idiot kid anymore. He knows what he did back then was wrong, and even though he tries to have this whole rebel attitude, he really has grown up to be an okay guy. He's not going to try to harm us-or anyone at the school during his time here. In a few weeks, he'll go back to Tokyo."
Suoh sighs. "If you trust him..."
Nokoru doesn't, but lets the conversation come to its natural conclusion.