The Chairman was in the planetarium, as usual, when Touga found him. The windows were open, shades raised, and Akio stood by one, a glass of wine glowing garnet in his hand as the evening light caught it. A smile played around the corners of his mouth.
"Mr. President."
At seventeen, the form of address had been a balm to soothe distrustful unease and slighted pride. At twenty-seven, it was a barb to prick them.
"You look well," the Chairman continued.
Touga was wearing long sleeves not only as a matter of course, but also to cover up the bruise on his forearm. He had hardly slept since the sparring match with Saionji. He tried to pretend that what Akio said was not a pointed lie. If the sentiment was not true, he thought, that was only because it was a meaningless pleasantry.
"And you as well, Mr. Chairman," he replied evenly.
"Can I tempt you?" the Chairman asked, indicating the wine he held and the bottle and extra glass waiting on a side table.
"Is it really appropriate to be drinking alcohol on school grounds?" Touga chided in return, lips twitching mischievously.
"You're old enough to decide that for yourself, aren't you?" Akio smiled. "Besides, what happens here is up to my discretion."
"Well in that case, how could one refuse such a generous offer?" There was only the slightest hint of a wry note in the younger man's voice as he strode over to the table that the Chairman had indicated earlier.
Touga paused to read the label, one hand stroking the bottle's curved surface absently. He recognized the vintage as one that Akio had introduced him to quite some time ago. It was an excellent wine, a Bordeaux of somewhat dubious pedigree, full-bodied and complex, with a lingering note of sweetness almost as intoxicating as its unusually high alcohol content.
He poured himself a glass and brought it to his lips, then hesitated. Perhaps it would be better to turn down the offer, generous or otherwise. Perhaps it would be better to remain clear-headed. He could see the Chairman watching him, silhouetted against the reddening sky, as the older man took a sip from his own glass and tilted his head back, savoring it with an almost indecent abandon.
To refuse was the choice that Saionji would have wanted him to make. It was the safe choice, the predictable choice. It was the choice of living as other people did, small lives full of unimportant little tasks.
He sipped the wine.
The taste of it lingered on his tongue, his lips, the back of his throat. It was deeply familiar, just as he remembered it, and slightly acrid.
"Now, Mr. President, why did you come here?"
Touga smiled. "Isn't it enough to desire your company?"
"All this way, for that?" Akio raised one eyebrow incredulously.
'All this way'? What did the Chairman know about where Touga had come from, where he was living?
"Well," the younger man replied, "actually, my position as the resident Academic Liaison Officer for my family's company..." He trailed off, trying to find the best way to phrase it.
"You've cut your ties with the Kiryuu family, I heard."
Touga's nerves flickered for a moment with annoyance. Akio had known all along, and left Touga struggling to tell him anyways. But he did not cling to the petty thought.
"You're as incorrigible as always, I'm afraid," the Chairman purred. "You should always be respectful of your family."
With measured grace, Touga walked over to the window where Akio lounged and looked out. The Ohtori campus had always been so lovely in the setting sun. The white stone buildings were a perfect canvas for the interplay of scarlet light and shadows bruising into violet-blue. It was as if the grounds came vibrantly alive in the enchanted hour.
"You must be uncomfortable, with your shirt all done up like that."
Touga's attention was pulled inexorably back towards Akio as the older man undid the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them back, revealing smooth skin over lean muscles.
"All these windows," Touga replied, "and they can't keep the air from getting stuffy."
He reminded himself that of course the Chairman didn't know about the injury on his forearm. Of course he didn't. Rather than rolling up his sleeves, Touga reached up with one hand and undid the top two buttons of his shirt, letting the shirt hang open at the neck and revealing the sinuous ridge of his collarbone.
"Regretfully, the separation with my family has left me between positions," Touga said softly, distracted.
"Then perhaps I can be of assistance."
"Hmm." The younger man sipped his wine, his savoring of the flavor mingling with the scene below.
"Ohtori Academy is always searching for those who understand our bold spirit and grand traditions, to help preserve and encourage these values in our youth."
Touga eyed Akio suspiciously. "And how does one do that?"
"There is a place on our Board of Trustees," the Chairman smiled wickedly, "or, there will be, which I would be honored to offer to you."
"That sounds worthy of consideration." Touga ran one finger along the delicate stem of his wine glass.
"I should mention that we would want a Board member who is involved with students. Sponsoring a club, for example, or mentoring particularly promising individuals."
"And how would this not be a job like any other," Touga asked bitterly, "a long progression of dull, unchanging days spent doing nothing extraordinary?"
Akio grinned wolfishly. "You forget Ohtori. And you forget me."
Touga's head spun. He took a step back, stumbling, and fell into something- a desk, though for a moment, he imagined that it was the seat of a car. His wine glass clattered down hard, but remained upright. The deep burgundy liquid swirled inside, but didn't spill.
Unsure that he could regain his feet in a suitably elegant manner, Touga reclined solicitously. The Chairman took his time setting his own glass well out of harm's way before he stalked over to where the younger man waited. He reached over, letting his fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of Touga's neck, then leaning in and kissing him. Touga felt himself respond, without really meaning to. It all felt so desperately familiar.
How many times...? he wondered.
The irony of it- of seeking change in something he knew so well- was lost on him.
A wine glass was knocked over in the confusion, and its contents spilled across the desk and dripped down the sides, streaking the dark wood with its liquid sheen and falling in six tiny pools on the floor, like uneaten pomegranate seeds. It went unnoticed.
The urgency of desire was the only thing that cut through the deepening haze of the wine. Touga felt Akio's fingers graze against the bruise on his arm, and he cried out at the ache.
"It's been so long, Mr. President," the Chairman murmured.