Chapter 9: A Little At A Time

There was just something about the Kusama Orphanage that made Hiroki forget the time, and by the time Mother pointed out that supper was cooking, it was six in the evening and Hiroki hadn't gotten a single bit of work done since leaving the university. He did manage to have a rather extensive discussion with Nowaki's 'mother' as Nowaki played with the children, though.

"So how exactly did you and Wacchan meet, anyway?" Mother asked as the children filed inside, some pushing others a bit in hopes that they could be first to the kitchen and therefore get the freshest food. The extensive conversation had mostly been stories about Nowaki's childhood, so even though Hiroki now knew everything from Nowaki's first word to the fact that he took piano lessons until he dropped out of school after junior high, Mother didn't really know much about Hiroki.

Hiroki ducked his head, watching as Nowaki helped a smaller child off one of the swings. She'd been abandoned by her friends at the mention of food, and of course the big-hearted goof couldn't leave her alone. "Ah, I went into a flower shop to get my mother a bouquet for her birthday, and it happened to be the one he works part time in," he finally said, trying not to sound as embarrassed as he felt.

"Ah, so you don't work together?"

"No, ma'am. I'm a professor of literature at M University so… same field, different level, I guess." There was something about Mother that kept Hiroki's polite barrier up, although perhaps it was as close to meeting Nowaki's parents as he would get. The man Nowaki called Father was out for the day, it seemed, on some kind of business that had to do with funding for the orphanage. When Hiroki had commented on that, though, Mother had said that there would be plenty of other days for them all to meet.

"Hiro-san, we should probably go now," Nowaki pointed out. Hiroki hadn't heard Nowaki approach so he jumped in surprise, but Nowaki didn't even flinch. "It was good to see you again, Mother. I'm glad everything is going well."

Mother smiled. "You don't have to be so formal, you know," she said, and at that she hugged him. Hiroki shifted from one foot to the other, feeling just a bit uncomfortable. He felt just a bit more uncomfortable when Mother turned to him and gave him a hug as well. The same instinct that had kept Hiroki's manners intact for the entire visit kept him from telling her to let go. She still did before the hug could manage to get awkward, though. "Feel free to come over more than once a month. But stop spoiling the kids, Nowaki."

Nowaki just smiled and nodded, not agreeing or disagreeing with Mother's assessment of his habits. As they made their way through the building so Nowaki and Hiroki could catch the train back to their respective apartments, Hiroki couldn't help but scowl at all the noise the children were making. Some of them had already sat down to dinner and, not being told they had to wait for the others, said their blessing and dug right in. The girl whom Nowaki had helped off the swing was waiting at the back of the line that went into the kitchen, but one of the older children who'd already gotten some smiled and gave his plate to her.

Hiroki couldn't, of course, get out of his mind the stories about Nowaki always giving up things for the children since he was often the oldest child in the orphanage. It seemed like something he would do, of course. Hiroki had had Nowaki's selflessness demonstrated for him more than once, to the point where he wondered if the man even recognized that Hiroki was actually a selfish, irredeemable bastard who was incapable of loving him because he was stuck on another man.

That was, perhaps, stretching it. The first evidence of this was the fact that, as they left, Nowaki took Hiroki's hand and Hiroki didn't fight it. He had a scowl on his face, but he'd already had one from going through the crowd of children on the way out. Nowaki didn't look like he for a minute thought Hiroki would fight the gesture: he didn't have a nervous look on his face, he didn't take Hiroki's hand in a hesitant way like he'd be able to save himself or make up and excuse about what he was doing if Hiroki pulled back his hand right away. Nowaki had genuine confidence, where Hiroki felt like his confidence only came from the fact that he was already established to the people he knew (and the people who knew who he knew) as someone with a violent temper.

There was silence between the two as they headed towards the train station. The sun was almost completely below the horizon and they were surrounded by streetlights flickering on and children heading home from club activities, or people their age going out to eat with family or friends. Not a single one of these people took a second glance at the two men passing by hand-in-hand, or if they did, Hiroki's eagle eye for people silently criticizing him was getting tired.

To break the silence, because Hiroki hated when he was around someone and neither of them ever had anything to say, he said, "Do you really spend that much money every month getting treats for those kids?"

"Yes, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, not missing a beat. "Mother and Father have done a lot for me, so now that I'm out on my own, I feel like I should do things for them. They won't let me directly donate, though so I buy treats for the children. They never really complain about me feeding them, even though the things I get aren't exactly healthy."

"It explains why you live like a broke college student, at least," Hiroki muttered. They were to the subway by then, and Hiroki intentionally broke his grip on Nowaki's hand as they descended. He was feeling a little bit nervous about subways since the scene Akihiko had put on earlier that day.

Nowaki only answered that after he and Hiroki had gotten their tickets. They were going to the same stop, since it appeared that Nowaki didn't care if he had to walk a little. Hiroki was annoyed that the first explanation that came to mind for that was that Nowaki wanted to spend more time with him. He was getting soft.

"I mostly live in that apartment because I don't need much more than that," he said. Their train wouldn't be coming for another five minutes, so they sat down at a bench near the platform. "I could probably afford a bigger one if I wanted, but it would probably feel lonely. My contract for that one runs out next month, though, so I might consider it."

"You might be moving?" Hiroki asked, and even he had to note the small twinge of panic in his voice, as if Nowaki finding a different apartment in a different part of Tokyo affected him.

"Yes, I suppose." Nowaki nodded. "Although as I said, a bigger apartment would feel lonely to me, so I just plan to renew the contract on my old one."

Hiroki's head snapped up as their train was announced, and before he could say what was on his mind, he ran for the platform. He almost sideswiped a girl in a local high school's uniform with his bag, and when she scowled at him, Nowaki smiled at her. "I'm sorry! Hiro-san is a very impatient man. I hope he didn't hurt you." Then he bowed and quickly followed Hiroki into the train, leaving the girls stunned.

"If you did move, where would you go?" Hiroki mumbled. He really did want to know, but a part of him was almost afraid of the answer and was hoping that the sound of the train taking off would drown out his voice.

It didn't, though. "Not too far, I suppose. I still have two jobs here in Bunkyo and it'd be a hassle to increase my commute time just to get a nicer apartment."

"Yeah," Hiroki agreed, not looking at him. "Have you already renewed your contract?"

"No," Nowaki said. "I probably should talk to my landlord about it soon, though." When he looked at Hiroki, he noticed that the man was looking nervous. Hiroki was often nervous, Nowaki found, but he would put up a front to try to make it seem like he was perfectly in control of any situation. It was, Nowaki thought with a smile, one of the things he loved about the man. It was cute, but he didn't call Hiroki cute. To his face. "Is something wrong, Hiro-san?"

"It just seems pointless to move into a big apartment and be all alone," Hiroki said, the nervous expression melting from his face. He folded his arms, and Nowaki didn't bother to point out to Hiroki that he'd been saying he just planned to renew his contract. "Not like I necessarily approve of roommates. Never had one growing up since I was an only child, and I never had one in any of my apartments since moving out of my parents' house." He seemed to be implying something, but when Nowaki clearly hadn't gotten it, Hiroki huffed and said, "I do have two bedrooms, though."

"They're both full of books, Hiro-san. The only difference is that one has a bed." Nowaki was still smiling, though, and Hiroki looked almost proud at that.

There was no one who could say Hiroki ever thought he had too many books. If he had his way and the proper funding, he'd probably buy a house of his own and fill its rooms with shelves upon shelves filled to bursting with books and still have even more piles around because no amount of space was ever enough.

Nowaki commenting on Hiroki's sheer number of books only distracted him for about ten seconds, though, because he said, "You're missing my point, Nowaki."

"And what's your point, Hiro-san?" He had an idea, but he wanted Hiroki to say it out loud. Nowaki was aware of just how much pride Hiroki had, and that it hurt said pride to have to spell these kinds of things out, but when Nowaki looked back on this moment years later, he wanted to remember it in full.

"…I'm saying I wouldn't completely hate it if you wanted to move into that second room. Not like I can't put all that stuff somewhere else." Hiroki clutched his bag to his chest like it was his only tether to the Earth. "And maybe if I had a roommate my mother would stop bugging me about the fact that I'm such an anti-social bastard."

"Just because you don't go out a lot doesn't mean you're anti-social, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, completely forgoing his answer to the first point.

"Maybe, but I still am," Hiroki said with a sad smile, still clutching his bag. "Most of the people in my department don't even know my given name. They've stopped bothering to invite me out for drinks because they know I'll say no. Not that spending my time drinking with people I don't like is my idea of fun. I got plenty of that in college." He seemed to realize he was being distracted from his point, though, so he actually looked up. "If you don't want to take my offer, just say so. It's not going to break my heart."

"I'd love to, Hiro-san, if you don't think it'd be too much trouble," Nowaki said. And then he took Hiroki's hand again. "I'll help with rent of course."

"Idiot, I've paid it fine for half a year and it's not increasing just because you're moving in," Hiroki muttered. "You need to save your money. And Mother's right, you spend too much spoiling those kids." He resisted the urge to call them brats, and the only excuse he could think of was that it was clear that the children at the orphanage meant a lot to him.

Nowaki smiled, intertwining his fingers with Hiroki's. Hiroki did pull away at that, a put-out look on his face, but as their stop was called, it did nothing to dampen Nowaki's enthusiasm about their future plans.