Summer 2000
Ianto sat on a bench near the Norwegian Church, thinking back to when he was little. The bay area was absolutely unrecognizable. What had been terrifying docklands (to a child) was now a thriving commerce and cultural center. Cardiff had gone from tatty to tidy almost overnight.
"You'd have enjoyed this, taid," Ianto said quietly, pulling the little box beside him closer. It was a chilly, dreary summer day, keeping most holidaymakers away from the new tourist destination.
After sitting for a while, watching the occasional heron glide by to and from the wetlands, Ianto decided it was time. He carefully replaced the box in his bag and walked slowly around toward the oval. Walking felt unusual and mechanical, as if he was only moving forward because of some outside influence.
Ianto ended up on the boardwalk where he sat down and took out the small box again. He held it for a while in his lap. "I used to wish everything would just go back to how it was before," he whispered, hating how his voice cracked. "I wished nain would get better, I even prayed every week. And then you took ill… I felt so helpless, taid. I just have to get out of here, that's all, but I hate leaving Caerdydd. I love it here like you did, but I can't stay just now. I'll come back someday… I promise."
Standing up, Ianto walked to the edge of the boardwalk and opened the box. "Hwyl fawr, taid," he said, upturning the box and letting its contents be blown over the bay. He stood leaning on a post for a long while until he finally felt composed enough to turn around again. Ianto put the box back into his bag again and decided he needed a hot cup of coffee more than anything.
Ianto found a quiet café up in the quay and draped his jacket over a leather chair near the window – even though he was the only customer sitting down - before ordering himself a latte. He sat for a while, looking out over the bay, wondering if nain and taid were finally together again in some afterlife, or if there was such a thing.
He was nearly finished with his drink and dreading going home when the only other customer entered the café. Ianto paid little attention until he realized that the man was carrying two cups out of the shop and would have to juggle them to open the door. Ianto jumped up to get the door and the man in the long coat (a little heavy even for a chilly summer, Ianto thought) gave him a brilliant smile.
"Thanks. Hey, that's a nice suit," the guy said with an American accent.
Ianto was fairly sure he'd never actually flirted with anyone, but he definitely recognized the less-than-pure interest being directed toward him. He tried not to visibly recoil – that would be rude – but gave the man a look that clearly said he didn't appreciate the insinuation. The guy had to be twice his age… just because half the juniors in his school mistook him for a teacher didn't make it ok. And besides… he was a guy.
Ianto grabbed his bag, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and hurried away in the other direction.