Oikawa is my precious babu, just so you know.
XII
今は遠すぎて儚い星でも 生まれ変わって夜空をきっと照らす
Shouyou keeps quiet on their way home.
Oikawa Tooru has decided to make him fall in love, and everything would be fine if he was actually his wife.
If I were actually a woman.
But what is going to happen when he discovers he's not? Will he repudiate him, will he accuse him of deceiving him, betraying him, or something even worse? Will he get him killed?
Or will he do it himself?
He lowers his head and contemplates his own hands resting in his lap. He contemplates his androgynous body, the shape that has saved him so far.
He has no desire of being a woman ―he's a man, he was born a man, and he wishes he could be seen as such.
"Tooru-san…"
His husband averts his gaze from the trees passing by the sides of the carriage.
"Is something the matter, Hina-chan?"
The way he pronounces his last name is painful, but at least he isn't lying to himself when he doesn't call him by his first name.
Because he doesn't even know his real name, to begin with.
"You said… You said that…"
"Oh, yes. I said I'd make you fall in love with me."
He instinctively flinches and tries to suppress the trembling caused by the knowledge of how irremediably doomed he is.
"But… what about Iwaizumi-san?"
It's the worse question he could have asked, and even so he presses on. A small part of him expects Oikawa Tooru to get mad at him, to get really angry and to yell at him, to feel humiliated by this tiny piece of intimacy that Shouyou hoists in front of him not as retaliation ―for there was no offense in the first place, but because he actually wants to know, he actually wants to understand this man a little more.
He understands then he should have expected anything but that.
He understands he should have expected Oikawa Tooru to laugh and to surround his body with one arm in a friendly gesture.
"What about Iwa-chan?"
Shouyou purses his lips and focuses on his fingers. The fingers he knows are manly, fingers that know how to braid manes and saddle up horses, although right now they only touch fine fabrics and soak brushes in black ink.
"You… You love him."
It's the truth. Shouyou knows it is.
"Yes", Oikawa answers, though his smile doesn't disappear. "I love him even now, when he's nothing but dust. Although I'd like to think, mind you", he adds dreamily, "that Iwa-chan would have become stardust, if anything".
Shouyou doesn't understand the reason why this hurts. He doesn't know if it hurts because of Oikawa…
… or because of himself.
"Then, why…?"
He knows Oikawa will wait patiently for his words ―he will wait for as long as it takes.
But he also knows that the words aren't easy to say ―they tangle up, they contort into horrible sculptures somewhere within his mouth.
He looks up just to find his patient look, his clear face.
"Why do you tell me these things?"
Oikawa doesn't reply. His voice, instead, is playful as he talks:
"I-don't-know~ Ah, but Hina-chan, I think I'm the one who gets to ask you something in this situation."
Shouyou simply awaits his question, so he finally asks:
"Why did you hold my hand all those nights, hm?"
There are no answers for Shouyou, who looks straight ahead. The house is getting bigger and bigger as they get closer.
Shouyou, not unlike Oikawa, knows the answer to the question that has been thrown in his direction.
In fact, they both know the answers to both questions.
Shouyou wishes he could close his eyes.
Open them.
To never have met Oikawa Tooru.
Reviews? ;_;
-Pequeña