Chapter 8: Knowledge

Thursday afternoon, Hiroki found himself leaving the university shortly after his last class and heading towards the train station with a specific destination in mind. The weather was nice, and if he had been up to it, he would've walked. He even thought about it, but as he stood in front of the station debating, he was alarmed to see Akihiko's car approaching. Before he could run into the station, though, he was spotted.

"Hiroki!" Akihiko called, leaning over Misaki since the passenger side was the one facing the sidewalk. "Do you need a ride?"

Hiroki gave the subway a world-weary look before approaching Akihiko's car. He put a hand on top of the car and said, "I'm not going home right now."

"I'm sure wherever you're headed isn't too far out of the way." Akihiko smiled radiantly, and Hiroki and Misaki both couldn't help but give him incredulous stares. Misaki had probably never seen it, but Hiroki knew that it was the smile Akihiko always showed the press. There were rumors, of course, about how eccentric he was, but he never had a hair out of place for interviews.

Hiroki sighed and pushed away from the car. "Just go home. I'll be fine."

Akihiko looked like he was going to say more, but Hiroki backed away from the car and headed into the subway.

"Hiroki, wait!"

Hiroki scowled when he realized that Akihiko had parked on the street and was running down the steps of the subway. He caught a glance of Misaki; the boy looked panicked as he tried to decide what to do. Hiroki had to smirk when he remembered the 'NO PARKING' signs posted in front of the subway entrance.

"Why do you keep avoiding me?" Akihiko demanded, taking one of Hiroki's elbows as the man tried to make his way to a ticket machine.

The intercom overhead announced the arrival of a train, and Hiroki noted he'd have to hurry and get a ticket if he wanted to make it on time.

"Akihiko, we haven't spent any real amount of time together in years. I don't see why you're just now noticing." He used his free hand to remove Akihiko's hand.

Instead of giving up, though, Akihiko raised his hand up and put it on top of Hiroki's head. Hiroki hunched his shoulders and felt his face go red; it had been a while since Akihiko had touched him in any capacity, and despite himself, he remembered how good it always felt. It didn't matter that there were no romantic intentions behind it.

If they hadn't been in such an utterly public place, Hiroki might have considered coming clean. He'd been keeping his feelings in for the majority of eighteen years. He had sex with the man and hadn't managed to say 'I love you.' If he had, maybe he'd be the one sitting shotgun in Akihiko's car, living in that huge apartment and sharing his bed.

"I just-"

"Hiro-san!"

Hiroki didn't have to look to know it was Nowaki, but Akihiko did. He kept his hand on Hiroki's head and arched an eyebrow as Nowaki approached them. "And you are?"

"Kusama Nowaki. Good afternoon." Nowaki bowed, but his eyes remained on the hand Akihiko had in Hiroki's hair. He smiled when Akihiko's eyes registered recognition. Then, without warning, he wrapped an arm around Hiroki and pulled him against his body, out of Akihiko's grasp. "Hiro-san came here to meet up with me, so if you don't mind…"

Akihiko didn't argue the point even though Hiroki had clearly been headed for a ticket kiosk. Nowaki let go of Hiroki's torso and moved his grasp to Hiroki's hand. As Nowaki led them up to street level, Hiroki kept his eyes on the ground. He could feel Akihiko's touch, but it contrasted with the warmth of Nowaki's hand over his in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

They were about a block down the street when Nowaki finally said, "Is everything okay, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki didn't even have the energy to lie. He just kept his head ducked as he shook it, a lump in his throat and tears threatening his eyes. Before he knew it, Nowaki was directing him again and was handing him a tissue from his bag. Hiroki just let him.

Hiroki found himself being let into a tiny apartment. It was even smaller than the one he'd had up until he made a break for America. His contract had been about to run out, and instead of renewing it or finding another apartment, he'd moved his things into storage at Akihiko's and caught an economy class plane to New York.

"I'll make some tea," Nowaki said as he stepped out of the genkan. He waved vaguely at what appeared to be both the living and bedroom. The only piece of furniture, Hiroki noticed with chagrin, was a futon. It wasn't even on a bed frame.

He'd almost had a breakdown in public, though, so he figured sitting on a man's bed was no bigger a blow to his pride than that. So, he sat down on the futon and removed his glasses so he could rub his eyes.

Of course, the stove was about five feet away, so Nowaki could see Hiroki's actions. He set the water to boil on the stove and sat down on the floor in front of Hiroki. "Hiro-san, what's wrong?" When Hiroki didn't answer, Nowaki reached up and buried his hand in Hiroki's hair. "You know you can tell my anything, Hiro-san."

"I've known you for three weeks," Hiroki muttered, but he didn't push Nowaki's hand away when he reached up and cupped his cheek. "I don't want to talk about it, all right?"

"All right, Hiro-san," Nowaki said. He stared into Hiroki's eyes for a few seconds before leaning forward and kissing him.

Given his thoughts just ten minutes before, Hiroki had alarms going off in his head. Akihiko had so easily reminded Hiroki why he hadn't had a successful relationship: he had latched onto Akihiko and couldn't let go. It wasn't like he didn't want to.

"Nowaki," Hiroki said, pulling away from the kiss.

"It's okay, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, smiling. He reached forward and ruffled Hiroki's hair again. Then he stood and went to attend to the tea.

Hiroki sighed, his body shuddering against the will to cry. He wouldn't do it for Akihiko so he couldn't do it for Nowaki.

Just to keep himself occupied, Hiroki said, "What were you doing getting off the subway so early, anyway? I thought your school ended at two-thirty."

Nowaki finally seemed to realize something, and he reached for his cell phone in his pocket. Hiroki had never thought to pay attention, but it was an old model. It didn't have a keyboard, it looked a bit beat up, and Hiroki doubted it even had mobile internet. Hiroki briefly wondered why he lived like a broke college student when he had one-and-a-half steady jobs. "Oh. I was supposed to visit the orphanage today so I requested to leave early. I guess I forgot when I saw you." He entered a number into the keypad and then put the phone to his ear.

Hiroki stopped dead at that, ignoring the high-pitched whistle that signaled the water for their tea was ready. Nowaki had never said much about himself in the times they got together, and suddenly he was casually mentioning visits to orphanages. It made him wonder, as Nowaki apologized to someone and said he'd be a little late, what exactly his past was.

"I'm sorry, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a sheepish smile. "I do have somewhere to be today…"

"It's all right," Hiroki muttered, standing up from the futon and dusting himself off. He'd rather go home and sulk, anyway. Instead of saying that, though, he cleared his throat. "What were you saying about an orphanage?"

Nowaki ducked his head. "I visit them once a month. The Kusama Orphanage, where I grew up."

Hiroki instantly remembered his thought the other day, about wanting to know more about Nowaki even if he wasn't going to give his heart away so easily. So, he found himself asking, "Would you… mind if I came, too?" and was relieved when Nowaki smiled widely and nodded.

xxx

"Do you really need all this crap?" Hiroki asked as they lugged boxes of sweets with them on the way to the Kusama Orphanage. Hiroki hadn't thought much of it when Nowaki had stopped in a convenience store on the way, thinking he just wanted coffee or something, so when he started picking up more and more food, he was understandably confused.

"I always bring the children dessert," Nowaki explained as he checked out, the woman at the counter smiling like they were good friends. Considering Nowaki apparently visited the Kusama Orphanage once a month, they probably were by then. "The place isn't very hard-up for money, but they don't usually spend money on things they don't need. Mother always said you never know when something might go wrong."

Hiroki had grumbled about coddling kids but picked up his own share of bags and followed Nowaki out the door.

Now, they stood in the front of the building, children in school uniforms passing through, saying hello to Nowaki and eying Hiroki like they weren't quite sure what to do with him. A woman finally emerged through the door of what Hiroki assumed was an office, and she had a bright smile on her face as she approached Nowaki. "Oh Wacchan, you always bring so much," she said, eying the bags that both Nowaki and Hiroki were holding.

Hiroki snorted in amusement. "Wacchan," he said, smiling to himself but hiding it as best he could.

The woman seemed to notice Hiroki at that point, and she raised her eyebrows at Nowaki, waiting for an introduction. "Ah, Mother, this is my friend, Kamijou Hiroki."

"It's good to meet you," Hiroki said in his most formal voice, bowing deeply.

Something in Mother's eyes changed, and she turned to Nowaki. "Wacchan, can you bring these things to the kitchen? We'll be out back."

"We?" Hiroki asked vaguely, but before he could do any more, he was being pushed along by Mother to the backyard.

The smaller children were playing since they had gotten back from school and didn't yet have to do their homework. There was a bench, and Mother patted it and Hiroki sat down beside her. "Um, you'll have to excuse me," Hiroki said a bit awkwardly. "I don't really know much. Nowaki only told me this afternoon that he grew up here."

"Hah, he doesn't like people feeling sorry for him, I suppose," Mother said. "But yes, ever since he was an infant. My husband and I run this orphanage, and we found him on our doorstep. He couldn't have been more than a few days old, and yet he had managed to survive a ferocious storm until my husband found him and brought him in."

"I'm guessing you and your husband named him."

"Yes," Mother answered. "He didn't have anything with him but a blanket, and my husband said he searched the area but couldn't find a single soul. We both realize naming him after a typhoon when we found him during one isn't that creative but…" Here she shrugged. "He has the personality, I suppose."

At that point, Nowaki had come outside from dropping off the treats in the kitchen, but instead of immediately approaching Hiroki and Mother, he got caught up at the lone swing set on the premises and ended up pushing two children at once, smiling as they told him about all the things he'd missed in the month he was gone.

"He dropped out of school after he graduated junior high so he could get a job and move out on his own," Mother continued. "But when he turned eighteen he was so determined to go to college. He was, and still is, very bright, though. And some people who sponsor us gave Nowaki scholarships so he was able to get through with very little debt."

Hiroki ducked his head, not sure what he'd do if he kept watching Nowaki play with the children in such a carefree way. He thought about asking Mother why she was telling him all this, but he kept his mouth clamped shut as he processed the rush of information.

"Hiro-san!" Nowaki called, still pushing both children. "Don't you want to play?"

"I'm good!" Hiroki called. To Mother, he added, "I'm, um, not very good with kids." Then he added in a mutter, "At least that's what my parents tell me."

Mother started laughing, her graying dark hair bouncing and her whole body shaking. Hiroki could, he supposed, see why Nowaki still loved and respected this woman. He could also, if he had to admit it, see where Nowaki got his carefree personality.

He kind of liked it better on Nowaki, though.