Chapter 2: Secret Admirer

A few days later found Hiroki being faced with an unfamiliar man outside his office who was holding a bouquet of sunflowers. The man claimed that he didn't know who they were from because there was no card and another worker had taken the order. It pissed Hiroki off to no end, but he didn't even think about denying them. So he went back into his office with them, scowling when Akihiko, who was waiting for Misaki to be done with classes, looked on in amusement.

"It seems as if you have a secret admirer, Hiroki," he said, tapping out his cigarette so he could stop sticking his arm out the window. He went over to where Hiroki had unceremoniously dumped the bouquet on his desk. "I must say, I don't think I've seen any of the men you've dated send you flowers before."

"I haven't gone out with a man in a while, so I have no idea where these things came from," Hiroki said, narrowing his eyes at the flowers. The truth was, he hadn't had a real boyfriend in years, and his increasing irritation and discomfort with strangers left him seeking out one-night stands a lot less since his college days. Akihiko didn't know that, though. "I should just throw them away."

"What a waste." Akihiko picked up the bouquet and examined it. Then his eyes drifted to the window again, and spotting something, he said, "I'll take them, then."

"The great lord Usami can't even buy his own flowers?" Hiroki snatched the flowers from his friend. "Just go get that boytoy of yours so I don't have to worry about you burning down my office." Akihiko just shrugged good-naturedly and complied, which served to piss Hiroki off more. The door to his office was left hanging open in Akihiko's wake, so Hiroki stomped over and closed it. He ignored the frightening looks from passing students, but he couldn't ignore Miyagi yelping in pain when the door was slammed on his hand.

Hiroki frowned. Miyagi had said he was going home. Hiroki had been hoping he'd have the office to himself so he could avoid going home until rush hour on the subway was over. As soon as he saw Miyagi notice the flowers, though, he started packing up.

"Aw, Kamijou-sensei, is some meanie trying to steal you from me?" Miyagi clutched his heart and feigned distress, earning a book thrown square in his face for his efforts. "Seriously, though, what woman was brave enough to send these to you?"

"None of your business. Goodnight, professor," Hiroki said through clenched teeth. He put his bag over one shoulder and took the flowers in his opposite hand, knowing full-well he'd get stares from basically every student he passed while leaving. He ceased caring when his cell phone went off and he realized it was his mother calling.

There was yelling in the background that didn't sound like his mother, and he cringed and held his phone away from his ear as he left the university building. He briefly noted Akihiko with Misaki over at that ludicrously shiny sports car, but he ignored them and kept down the sidewalk. Finally Hiroki's mother seemed to realize that she had called him, because she said, "Hiro-chan! You finally answered!"

Hiroki cringed. "Yes, Mother. I've been in classes all day."

"Well," his mother said with a huff. "You know how I feel about not answering messages in a timely manner. If you hadn't answered this time I was prepared to believe you really had dropped off the face of the earth."

"Goodbye, Mother." He ended the call and shut off his phone, but he couldn't help frowning. He had gone on a trip after finishing graduate school, just a few months' escape to America where he slept in shabby motels and hopped around towns based on things he'd heard or read about concerning bookstores in them. By the time he was ready to go home, when he had to prepare to accept the assistant professorship at M University and be a grownup again, shipping his acquired collection back to Japan probably cost more than all the motel rooms he stayed in combined.

In that time, his mother had supposedly tried to call him over and over again, but his cell phone didn't get international coverage, and even if it did, he'd left it home. He'd called Akihiko once or twice from pay phones. He recalled doing it once somewhere in the desert, just finding a random pay phone by the side of the dusty highway after he got kicked off a bus for his temper. Akihiko had offered to wire money to him so he could afford a cab to go out that far, but Hiroki had refused. He spent the next few days hiding in shadows like some kind of sunburned vampire.

When Hiroki looked up, he realized that he had passed right by the station and decided it was more worth it to just walk. The flowers would probably get crushed with how crowded the subway would be at that time anyway, not that Hiroki necessarily cared. When he got close enough to recognize the flower shop he had bought his mother's bouquet from the other day, he realized that the deliveryman had its name on his shirt. One of the details he'd taken in trying to avoid looking at the flowers, he supposed.

Hiroki couldn't be sure if the man standing outside was the same man he'd seen the other day, but he was certainly tall enough. He wasn't dressed in the store's uniform, though, and even if he did have a nametag on, Hiroki didn't remember what that name was. He'd stored it about as long as ordering the flowers had taken and not given it a second thought afterwards.

"You got the flowers!"

Hiroki had been staring at his feet, but the man was clearly talking to him, so he settled his eyes at a point ahead of him and twitched as the man walked up. "So they did come from this shop."

"Yes." The man had a huge smile on his face. "I thought you'd like them."

Hiroki stopped cold at that, and with a speed known only to his students foolish enough to bring on the ire of the Demon Kamijou, he reared around and glared right at the man, who was smiling in a warm way like he wasn't aware he had the wrath of Hell right in front of him. Once Hiroki's words were returned to him, he managed to ask, "You sent them?"

The man suddenly looked up, his unfocused eyes looking interested, and Hiroki turned back around to see Akihiko had pulled up by the curb and was rolling down his window. Misaki was sitting there in the front seat, looking absolutely terrified at this scenario. Hiroki frowned, glancing between Akihiko and the man still standing there beside him on the sidewalk looking curious.

"I thought you said you haven't gone out with anyone in a while, Hiroki," Akihiko said with a lazy smile. Misaki was still cowering in the background, but at that he looked slightly conflicted at being presented with the information that his professor might be gay as well. "I have to say, he doesn't look like your usual type."

Hiroki had a face that could only be properly described by saying that if he was at a computer, he would've pounded his head repeatedly on the keyboard. As it was, he just squeezed the stems of the sunflowers in his hand, grit his teeth, and said, "This man works at the flower shop right here. I don't even know his name."

"Kusama Nowaki," the man said with a smile, bowing deeply. He clearly had a feeling that Hiroki wasn't going to put up with much more, though, and he said, "I was just going home, though. Have a good night, Hiro-san." He bowed once before he was off with nothing more than a vague wave behind him.

Akihiko had been lighting a cigarette as he waited for Hiroki to put his attention back on him, but at that, he choked in surprise and actually dropped it, the thing landing on the sidewalk unused. "Did he just call you Hiro?"

Misaki had scrambled into the backseat of Akihiko's car at that point, cowering behind the seats at Hiroki's angry aura. Not even Akihiko ever called him Hiro, with any kind of honorific. It was used by family only, usually with –chan affixed to it because while he was nowhere near the youngest in the family, he was, apparently, the "cutest." If his family was good for nothing else, they were good at finding ways to piss him off in new and interesting ways.

"I am not going into that," Hiroki muttered, turning down the street again. Akihiko put his foot on the gas again, though, and slowly inched along beside him. "Go home, Akihiko. I've put up with too much crap today for you to take a sudden interest in me."

"Who says it's sudden?" Akihiko asked, arching an eyebrow. "We're friends, Hiroki. At least let me bring you home."

"No." He didn't even affix a 'thank you' to the end of that. He knew that he would get the same reaction from Akihiko whether he was polite or not. "Besides, don't you have an editor's life to make more difficult?"

As if on cue, Akihiko's phone went off, and the man looked annoyed as he stared at it. He looked like he was seriously considering if he should answer it or not, and while he was distracted, Hiroki made a run for it. He didn't dare run all the way to his apartment, because he knew Akihiko was more than capable of catching-up with him if he wanted to, so he ended up ducking into a restaurant.

"Thank you very much!"

Hiroki's eyes went to the counter, where Kusama Nowaki was picking up a takeout bag and smiling warmly at the woman who handed it to him, much to her swooning delight. There was a hostess who was trying to tell Hiroki that he could pick any table he wanted, but he got a scowl on his face and ran for it again just as Nowaki turned and spotted him.

He was so concerned with escaping, in fact, that he didn't even pay attention to the fact that the pedestrian light was red. He ran out onto the crosswalk, and the only thing that alerted him to the car coming was the frantic beep of horn and screech as it tried to stop before it hit him. His eyes went wide, and just as he was ready to accept getting hit, he felt a hand on his elbow. He let go of the bouquet as he was pulled from the crosswalk just as the car stopped in it, leaving in its wake tire tracks and some very angry-looking drivers.

Hiroki noted that the bouquet of sunflowers had been crushed under the wheels of the car that had almost hit him. They were useless for their main purpose now which, Hiroki mused, was just looking pretty. Petals had broken off many of them and were scattering around in the wind. He was so caught-up in this visual that he only looked to his savior when he realized he was being pulled away from the scene. "K-Kusama…"

"Are you alright?" Nowaki asked, finally stopping when they were far enough down from the chaos. All Hiroki could do was nod numbly, and Nowaki added, "What were you thinking?"

This brought Hiroki's wits back to him, and his brow furrowed in anger. He ripped his elbow from Nowaki's grip and said, "What the hell do you know?"

Nowaki looked surprised at this outburst but not offended. He just stood there, watching as Hiroki stomped down the sidewalk. He was about to head on his own way, when he realized that Hiroki had turned back around and was stomping towards him again. He got a smile on his face, like he thought maybe Hiroki was going back to apologize or thank him, but instead, he was just muttering about how his apartment was in the opposite direction.

Some of the petals from Hiroki's mutilated bouquet had blown on the wind towards them at that point, and Nowaki absentmindedly picked one up and stared at it as Hiroki disappeared down the street.