Shinji knocked on the door of Kensei's condo. Kensei opened the door, looking disgruntled, running a hand through his silver hair. "Shinji," He exclaimed. "Hey, where's Hiyori? She's always with you."

"Not today. She got mad at me this morning." Shinji shoved his hands in the pockets of his gray pencil-leg slacks.

"I can see that by the sandal mark on your face. Come in?" Kensei suggested, holding the door wider.

"Thanks." Shinji slunk through Kensei's door, and swiped himself a seat on the black leather sofa next to Mashiro. She gave him a huge grin, her lime green hair swinging cheerfully. She was leaning way forward, elbows on her knees as she flipped through a wedding magazine. "You'll never guess who I rescued last night."

"Who?" Kensei asked, throwing his huge figure down in a sky blue sofa chair.

"Ichimaru." Shinji stretched his skinny legs out, and crossed them at the ankle, staring at his shiny wingtip shoes.

"Him? Really?" Kensei grumbled.

"Wow, he's still alive?" Mashiro lifted her chin off her palm, her glossy lips pouting.

Kensei smacked his hand to his forehead. "You thought he died?"

Mashiro shrugged, her apple eyebrows lifting to hide under flat bangs.

Shinji snorted. "He and his partner came down from Sapporo for some reason, and got roaringly drunk at the local bar."

"The bar? Dude, I didn't think you drank alone." Kensei frowned.

"I don't. I ran into them in front of the mini-mart around midnight. I was just coming out with my soda, and here comes Gin, running at full speed, laughing like a maniac with a cute, depressed-looking blond guy in tow. Kira, I think his name was. So they pass me, Gin almost stepping on my toe, and then a police races by and I know they're in trouble." Shinji folded his arms behind his head.

"Kensei, what do you think of this dress?" Mashiro held up the magazine and pointed to an orange and white dress.

"Whatever you want, babe. It's your dress." Kensei flicked a hand.

"Oh, yay!" She drew an arrow pointing at it with a red permanent marker.

"Speaking of dresses, Kensei, how's the wedding planning coming along?" Shinji tipped his face to Kensei.

Kensei grunted. "We're still working out a date and guest list. And Mashiro wants a white poppy bouquet."

"It's our flower, Kensei!" Mashiro piped.

"Yeah, I know." He folded his arms.

"Good." Mashiro returned to happily flipping pages.

Kensei turned to Shinji. "So. Ichimaru, eh? Did he look well?"

Shinji shrugged. "He looked happy with the guy he was with."

Kensei looked at the ceiling. Another boyfriend. Do they have a word for something like that? A womanizer who womanizes men? A man-izer? "Sounds good." Kensei sighed. We've all adjusted so well to Shinji being the way he is. It's almost like we never had the GSA incident.

Mashiro swung her legs back and forth, kicking her heels against the bottom of the sofa. "Kensei, can we have those tiny sandwiches at our wedding? The kind with things like cucumber and egg salad? They're just so cute!"

Kensei grimaced. "You can have whatever we can afford."

Mashiro blinked her gray-brown eyes. "What can we afford?"

"Ask your mom. Didn't she say she was paying for half of it?"

Mashiro put a slim finger to her chin. "Oh yeah. I'll go call her!" Mashiro ricocheted off the sofa, jostling Shinji, and grabbed her phone off the low coffee table.

"Boy, she's as energetic as always."

Kensei rolled his eyes. "You're telling me."

As much as Shuuhei was frustrated with Izuru right now, he really hated living alone. While Izuru was with Gin in Kyoto for a four-day weekend trip, he spent most of his time at Matsumoto's apartment or at the school library, studying and writing articles. He couldn't wait for Izuru to return, even if it was with Gin in tow.

Matsumoto had made Shuuhei a copy of her key. Shuuhei stared at it on his key ring, it and all its shining silver door-opening glory. He fit it into the keyhole of Matsumoto's apartment door, and turned it to the right. The tumbler clicked, and the door creaked open. Geez, I feel like I'm breaking and entering, he thought, sweating bullets. The lights were off, and he shut the door and flicked on a floor lamp that was standing next to the sofa. He sat down, dropping his messenger bag on the carpet by the sofa, and kicking his shoes off. Somehow I feel more comfortable in Matsumoto's place, he thought, folding his arms behind his head.

He heard Matsumoto's keys jangle as she attempted to unlock her already unlocked door, and her cursing as she realized it was unlocked to begin with. "Shuu?" She asked as she opened the door.

"Hi." Shuuhei said with a sigh.

"Oh, so you're here. I was wondering where you were, because your Honda wasn't in the drive when I drove past you and Izuru's place." She left the door open.

"I didn't think our house was on your way from classes." Shuuhei noted.

"I worry about you, kid," Matsumoto set her bag down next to Shuuhei's and sat on the floor next to the sofa near Shuuhei's feet. "I wonder if you're doing well. You've seemed so down since Izuru came out."

"I just wasn't expecting it."

"Uh-huh."

"Really," Shuuhei insisted, staring at the ceiling. "Really, it was one of the very few things I expected Kira would do. He'd always been kind of ambiguous with his sexuality, but it always seemed that he'd remain uninterested in sex for his whole entire life. I mean, it seemed like he was going to finish his degree, then move to the mountains and become some sort of wholesome poet hermit who lives in a hut made of straw and mud."

"Okay then." Matsumoto giggled. "Maybe now he'll become a wholesome gay poet hermit."

"Wow, somehow that really fits."

Matsumoto threw back her head and cackled at this. Shuuhei smiled. "Hey, let's call him!"

Shuuhei pulled himself into a sitting position. "Call who?"

"Izuru, of course!" She was already dialing, then flipped the phone up to her ear.

"Hello?" Izuru replied in a sleepy voice. There was a muffled masculine giggle.

"Izuru!" Matsumoto exclaimed, rather loudly. "It's..." She trailed off when there was a crackle and a thunk.

"We're busy right now. Might ya try calling later?" A different, reedier, accented baritone voice said like velvet. The other line clicked off, and Matsumoto pulled the phone away from her ear, looking genuinely confused.

"What happened? Did Izuru pick up?" Shuuhei frowned.

"Yeah, he did. But then some other guy hung up on me." Matsumoto copied Shuuhei's facial expression.

"Some other guy? Then it was Ichimaru who hung up on you."

"He what?"

Hugging for long periods of time is awkward, Izuru decided, entangled in a knot of angled limbs and compromising positions. But they're also warm and very lovely. Not to mention that Gin also smelled like vanilla today. Eventually Izuru pulled his head of Gin's shoulder to nuzzle the underside of Gin's porcelain chin. "I'll have you know you sounded really girly a moment ago." Izuru smirked.

Gin chuckled. "I guess so. I'm over it now, though."

"Oh, that's good." Gin pushed Izuru's hair back from his face, smiling. Izuru carefully analyzed his face. "You look like you're after something." He blinked.

Gin grinned wider. "A kiss?" Gin ventured.

"You greedy fox." Izuru let himself be taken up in a soft kiss and embrace, his hands on Gin's upper arms for balance.

"Gross! Guys kissing!" An obnoxious red-haired kid shouted as he trotted by, making gagging noises and a general fool of himself. Gin and Izuru pulled apart in surprise.

"Jinta, don't judge people," A slightly taller girl with black hair and sleepy eyes followed behind him, carrying both their school bags. Her voice was soft and submissive. "And if you tease them, we'll be late and Tessai will be mad!"

"Shut up, Ururu!" The boy named Jinta groused, but nonetheless picked up his pace in fear of said Tessai's wrath.

"Sorry to disrupt you, sirs." Ururu said with a bow and a tiny smile.

"Kids these days." Gin said, shaking his head once they were out of sight. "Didn't used to be like that when I was here."

"Huh." Was all Izuru could manage through his embarrassed blush. Why was it that those kinds of things always happened to them? It was like their lives were some sort of cliche story. Gin's lips blazed a mellifluous trail up and down the length of Izuru's neck.

Izuru's phone rang in his pocket, and he whipped it out and held it to his ear. "Hello?" His voice was thick.

"Izuru!" It was Matsumoto. Gin giggled and placed a gentle kiss on Izuru's collar. "It's m-"

Gin snatched away the phone. "We're busy right now. Might ya try calling later?" He purred into the phone, and snapped it shut with a twist of his skeletal fingers, slipping it into his own jeans pocket.

"You just hung up on Matsumoto!" Izuru cried, aghast.

Gin pulled the phone out of his pocket and stared at it. "I what?" He shouted, frowning. "She'll call back, right? Aw man, now I feel bad."

"Yeah, she always calls back when she gets hung up on." He knew this from experience. Matsumoto was one persistent woman.

"Oh, good."

Their eyes were fixed on the phone until it buzzed again. Gin flashed it to his ear the nanosecond it did.

"Hello?" He said in a strained voice. Izuru leaned his ear close to Gin's to hear the conversation, standing on tiptoes.

"Izuru?" Matsumoto asked.

"No, it's Gin." Gin wrapped an arm around Izuru's waist to help him balance.

A silence. "Gin? Is it really you?"

"I dunno, Ran-chan, how many men d'ya know have accents like mine?"

"Oh sweet baby Jesus, it really is you! It's been so damn long! We have to get together when you and Izuru come back from your trip." There were muffled noises, like the sound of the telephone being pressed to the fabric of a shoulder. "Shuu, it's Gin! You were right!" Shuuhei grunted. The telephone was moved to her mouth again. "How have you been?"

"So-so, y'know? I got 'Zuru now, though." Gin gave Izuru a squeeze.

"I heard about your dad. I'm really sorry."

"I'll be fine."

"You guys are coming back tomorrow night, right? Do you want to have dinner the day after?"

"Sounds fun, Ran! See you then?"

"Right, right! Yeah, see you." Matsumoto hung up first.

"She's so bubbly." Gin stated with a broad simper. Izuru snickered.