Homesick

Chapter Eight

The Lady Kamijou rode silently alongside Akihiko in his car.

She had called him just a few moments after seeing her son for the first time in the ICU. She had told Akihiko of Hiroki's precarious condition and that she would not be leaving for some hours. She'd also said that he shouldn't waste his time waiting around for her.

Akihiko had agreed to go home, only after he'd made her promise that she would call him when she was ready to leave so that he could personally take her to her son's apartment.

Kamijou-san had sat with her sedated son for hours before finally heeding the nurses' gentle, but repeated, urging to go and get some rest.

Even with their calm assurances it was hard for her to leave. Hiroki had woken up only once in the time she'd been there. He had raised his eyes and she was shocked to see the tired pain that had taken up residence in her son's gaze where she was so used to seeing only his fierce intelligence.

Hiroki had remained silent but he'd frowned at her slightly before drifting off again. Knowing her son as she did, over the years the lady Kamijou had become quite the interpreter of scowls and she understood immediately this one had indicated Hiroki was disturbed for having caused her such bother.

Still, at the same time, Kamijou-san had felt a gentle squeeze by the pale hand she had been holding, acknowledging that he was grateful for her presence all the same.

A slight dip in the road jarred Hiroki's mother from her hospital memories, but only momentarily.

In all her son's life, Kamijou-san had never seen her Hiroki in such a compromised state: it had deeply shaken her. He had always been a very healthy boy, rarely had ever he come down with anything, even the annual flu was a rarity. His father, Hiromasa, had once told her that their son was simply too stubborn to ever be really ill.

Still, she worried.

Her mother's mind was filled with troublesome thoughts as she gazed out the car window at the city lights of urban Tokyo. The chaos of digital and fluorescent color was so different from the quiet dark space surrounding her home.

It had been about six months since she had last seen Hiroki. That time, however, and actually for the few occasions he'd visited throughout that year, her son had seemed to her somehow diminished… troubled. His will had dimmed and the lady wondered if this "weakness" had somehow compromised his health, allowing for this terrible illness.

She had asked Hiroki on numerous occasions what had been bothering him, but as usual her son was closemouthed. The lady Kamijou knew Hiroki felt things deeply, but was uncomfortable showing this. Bluster or silence, these seemed to be his two general modes.

He's so much like his father in that respect. The Lady Kamijou smiled at this, her heart filled with love for her two men. She looked over at Akihiko. Well, maybe three...

As the lady had been dealing with her own tumultuous thoughts, beside her Akihiko was not faring much better.

It was only after Kusama had left, Akihiko had realized he had no idea where his best friend lived now: Hiroki had moved unexpectedly a while back and hadn't even bothered to let him know.

He'd discovered this when he'd gone to Hiroki's old apartment to drop off some books he'd borrowed, only to find some stranger answered the door. In truth, it had been quite some time since he had even been to Hiroki's old apartment. Not that he was about to tell Mama Kamijou that.

When they were younger he'd been a frequent visitor at his friend's flat. Though Hiroki, with his precision of language, preferred to refer to him more often as "pest" than "guest" during these calls. The corner of Akihiko's mouth twitched up as he remembered this.

As his thoughts progressed, however, his face became serious again.

His visits to Hiroki's house had more or less stopped really, the day that Kusama had shown up in the door behind his best friend and claimed the man as his own.

As he considered this, Akihiko looked longingly at the glove compartment, where he knew a half-full pack of smokes currently resided. As much as he wanted one, he didn't dare smoke in Mama Kamijou's presence; she had no patience for the habit.

He exhaled a long breath through his nose, trying to curb the rising voice of his addiction.

In an attempt to distract himself from his nicotine hunger, he felt his mind drifting back. He had come to Hiroki's flat that long ago day, not just to see how his friend was doing, but really to get some answers to the questions that had been burning inside him after their "blindfold" incident.

When Hiroki had suggested they fuck, Akihiko had thought at first his friend was just ragging him, as he so often did, about Takahiro. Then when Akihiko had realized that Hiroki was actually serious, beyond his initial "don't be stupid," response, he'd soon found himself overwhelmingly curious.

He had loved Hiroki wildly when they were younger, but had always thought his sober friend was far removed from such feelings. Having that long forbidden fruit dangled before him, despite his affection for Takahiro, Akihiko found that he couldn't resist tasting it just once, knowing the other was willing.

But that taste… Oh, sweet god, that one taste… It was nothing short of miraculous.

Akihiko had almost said Hiroki's name twice before he regained enough of his senses to know what saying this would do to their friendship. So instead, he had purposely called out Takahiro's name.

It made sense, didn't it?

Takahiro was the one he had supposedly loved after all and besides, it had just been a wild hare for Hiroki.

Right?

Something new his jaded friend hadn't done yet.

Akihiko sighed now at his own adolescent obtuseness. He wondered why he'd ever thought this, considering how well he knew beneath his stern exterior that Kamijou Hiroki felt everything else in the world incredibly deeply.

Why not that too?

Akihiko was roused from his thoughts. "Excuse me, Mama Kamijou, I didn't hear what you said."

"Ah, well that's no wonder. You looked like you were a million miles away, Aki-kun," Kamijou-san gently chided. She repeated her earlier question.

"Why do you think Hiroki hasn't mentioned this Kusama-san to me before? Very strange, as I said, neh? For a man of his age and in his position to take a roommate."

"Ah, well…" Akihiko hummed, aware that, despite her pleasant exterior, the lady Kamijou's eyes and her mind were just as sharp as her son's.

"He doesn't speak much of his personal life to me these days. We mostly talk about work and books.

"I'm sure he has a reason... or maybe you could ask Kusama-san about their arrangements? He seems a very cordial sort." Akihiko felt just a bit evil as he said this but then he had no reason to like the man.

It was only after the blindfold event, when Hiroki failed to call later, that Akihiko had begun to suspect.

At first, he'd figured Hiroki must have felt as he had and was, he imagined, equally embarrassed (a state he himself was unused to normally). For this reason he had initially given Hiroki his space, as the alternative had seemed immensely awkward.

But as the silence had extended and Hiroki became ever more elusive when he tried to track the literature student down, Akihiko had finally realized how off he might have been in his understanding of his friend's motives.

What's more, he knew a vocal, blustering Hiroki meant the man was fine, but such a quiet Hiroki… well. That was another matter entirely.

He had been planning to confront Hiroki about this. He was working his way up to it, in fact, when Kusama had so boldly made his presence known.

What neither Hiroki nor Nowaki knew, however, was that he hadn't left immediately after Kusama had shut the door on him. In fact, hearing Hiroki yell through the thin wood, initially Akihiko had stood there smirking. He'd felt assured that his friend would be back in a minute, holding the door to usher Kusama out and him in.

But that isn't what happened…

It had been shocking to Akihiko, as the minutes passed and he'd continued to stand there, listening to the rise and fall of the two men's voices within the shroud of the apartment's interior. But still he'd waited; he hadn't been about to just allow himself to be shut out, he had a case to make.

Finally, he had raised his fist to pound on the door. But as he did, the sounds within the flat shifted… rather dramatically…

Hearing Hiroki's muffled cries and understanding what they meant, Akihiko had known immediately somehow that he'd lost.

It was only then that he'd allowed his hand to drop and had retreated... eventually all the way back to the safe and comfortable role of Takahiro's longing admirer.

"How much farther, Aki-kun?" Kamijou-san's tired voice broke into Akihiko's thoughts once more.

"Just a few more minutes, Mama Kamijou," Akihiko gave the woman one of his book tour smiles.

There was no way he would ever reveal the new humiliation he had felt having to track Kusama down in the hospital again that evening to get the directions to Hiroki's new apartment. More disconcerting, than having to find the intern, however, was finding the young man so clearly in his element.

He'd encountered Nowaki in the hall going over a child's chart with her tearful parents.

Seeing Kusama in his smock, his demeanor not much different than what he'd displayed downstairs, the author had found himself harboring no doubt Kusama was more than competent. This had become even clearer as he'd watched the parents thank the young man effusively for saving their little girl.

Kusama had accepted their gratitude with just the right amount of humility

Akihiko was still surprised at all the feelings seeing this had stirred in him. He'd suddenly realized Hiroki's lover was far more dimensional than the caricature he'd reduced the man to in his BL novels. Not that this incited him to change his depictions…

Those damn Junai Egoist fuck books make me entirely too much money to go messing with the formula.

"Here we are, at last," Akihiko murmured as he pulled his car into the lot.

As he moved around to the other side of the car to help the lady Kamijou out, he reflected on Hiroki's new location. It made sense: the complex was about midway between the hospital and the University. The neighborhood was certainly more genteel, far better suited to a young professional than an overworked Uni student.

Apparently Hiroki's mother thought so too as Akihiko caught Kamijou-san giving the building a thorough once over and offering a quiet sniff of approval.

Moving around his car, Akihiko around removed her rolling suitcase from the back and began pulling it along behind him.

"This way, Mama Kamijou," he offered, leading the way as he followed the directions Kusama had given him.

They took the outdoor elevator up to the seventh floor rather than the stairs. Kusama's directions had been impeccable and so, Akihiko was able to navigate his way to Hiroki's front door with the assurance of one who had been there a thousand times.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel his brow rise at seeing the brass name plate with Kamijou and Kusama on it. Although Akihiko knew the pair had been together for years now, this bespoke to him of a new solidity he hadn't anticipated.

Opening the door with the key Kusama provided, Akihiko turned on the interior light as he ushered Hiroki's mother in. They stopped in the entry to take off their shoes before moving in further.

As soon as they'd entered, Akihiko's nose was filled with familiar smells, things he'd always associated with Hiroki: rich tea and old books, a certain spiced shampoo the man used and beneath this something that had always struck him as solid and rather earthy.

"Ah… this is lovely really and so clean," Kamijou-san murmured as she'd turned on the next light and moved into the main room. Akihiko followed in after and found himself agreeing with Mama's assessment. It was certainly steps above the crowded flat Hiroki had occupied as a student.

Akihiko noted not only the orderly bookshelf lined walls, but also the large flat screen TV and the gaming station. As he stepped over to the contemporary looking couch, he figured the technological touches must be Kusama's.

"Ummm… Mama Kamijou," Akihiko started uncomfortably, "I spoke to Kusama-san and he said he would be pleased if you would take his room. He said the bed is done up there and that he'd just changed the linens today. It's the last door down the hall on the right."

"That's very kind of him, but where will he sleep then?"

"He said he'd take Hiroki's room. He thought it might be too cluttered for your comfort."

"Mmmmm, is that so?" Kamijou-san hummed as she picked up the handle of her case and headed down the hallway exploring. She opened the first door on the left side of the hall and found herself staring into what was obviously her son's room.

Now this is more like my Hiroki. She smiled seeing the rumpled, unmade double futon, overflowing shelf-lined walls, and books piled in knee-high stacks all over the floor.

Curious, and since she had been invited, she moved down the hall to peek in Kusama-san's room.

Opening this door Kamijou-san found a space virtually free from any kind of clutter and a crisp made bed. Stepping in she noticed there were books here too, though not nearly as many, and that they were mostly medical texts.

She sighed. Though she felt a bit guilty about the idea of displacing him, Kusama-san was right; this room was far more to her liking. She rolled her case up against the dresser and was about to leave when suddenly she noticed something. She stepped up and looked more closely.

How strange…

Kamijou-san reached out and gingerly picked up two small stuffed animals that had been sitting together atop Kusama-san's dresser.

Having been to Akihiko's flat and seeing her "second son's" collection, it wasn't that Kusama-san had stuffed animals that struck her as odd. It was that one of them was a stuffed black dog and the other, she was sure, was Hiroki's battered plushie cat "Alien."

What is Alien doing in Kusama-san's room?

Out in the main room, while he waited to be dismissed, Akihiko was doing a bit of looking about himself. Stepping into this world he suddenly realized how little he knew about his oldest friend anymore, though there were times he wondered if he'd ever really known Hiroki at all.

Akihiko's eyes traced over the titles on the bookshelves. He recognized quite a number of them.

An unusual flush of pleasure filled him when he noticed on one of the top shelves Hiroki was still keeping his books in triplicate. Then Akihiko's eyes fell on something curious, a small wooden panda figurine wearing an Uncle Sam outfit.

He picked it up carefully and turned it over, looking at the base. "Made in Japan," it read.

Akihiko snorted and wondered why the two men would have such a thing.

Not that I'm in any place to be casting stones…Still, it struck him as somehow out of character for the couple. Neither really seemed to him to be the sort to indulge in knickknacks.

Retuning the panda to its shelf, Akihiko stepped back. Then he looked down on the coffee table. He grinned when he saw a pile of men's fitness magazines.

These must be Hiroki's. I'll bet if I asked him, he'd tell me he reads them for the articles.

Akihiko remembered surprising Hiroki, while his fiery friend was studying just this type of magazine, at their place in the woods one day when they were about thirteen. He could still picture Hiroki's blush at being caught.

When asked why he was looking at something like that, Hiroki had grown still for a moment. Then he 'd looked up and despite being the reddest Akihiko had ever seen him, he'd met his gaze squarely.

"I like guys," Hiroki had said simply and then a moment later: "Problem?" Akihiko recalled shaking his head.

Satisfied with this, Hiroki had stuck the magazine in his backpack and pulled out a regular novel and began reading. That was the extent of his coming out...

To me at least…

"Aki-kun?"

Akihiko looked up to see Hiroki's mother had rejoined him.

"Are you okay, Dear?"

The warmth in Mama Kamijou's eyes pierced him and, as much as Akihiko cursed the gods for giving him the family he had, he also blessed them for sending him the Kamijou's to make his early life in Japan bearable.

Once again Akihiko found himself wishing desperately for a cigarette.

"Just a lot of thoughts tonight… memories…" He often found himself able to talk with Hiroki's mother in a way he could with few other people.

"I guess, it's a bit of a scare… What happened today.

"I just never imagined the possibility of a life without Hiroki to harass before…" Akihiko was surprised to hear the roughness in his voice at the end of this statement, but even more so, as far away as he and Hiroki had grown he also realized this was true.

Kamijou-san stepped up to him. "He's going to be okay, Aki-kun. Don't you worry."

Akihiko cleared his throat and nodded.

Seeing the author's discomfort, Hiroki's mother moved into the kitchen. "If I can fumble my way around here, maybe I can find us some of that good tea my son indulges in. Would you like some?"

"That's so very kind, Mama Kamijou," Akihiko murmured politely. "But I promised to help my lodger, Takahashi-kun, with some of his studies tonight. I've been tutoring him. It's a bit late and I don't want him getting too overtired as he's working as well as attending classes right now."

"Of course," the lady said stepping out of the kitchen and walking Akihiko to the door. "You always have been such a kind boy, Aki-kun."

Akihiko found himself experiencing a rare heat in his cheeks at Kamijou-san's words. "Erm… Well, please keep me posted, Mama Kamijou, and let me know if you need anything… Another ride or whatever." Akihiko bowed his way out once he'd slipped back into his shoes.

"Yes, Dear. Of course," the lady smiled, though her eyes were weighted. "Take care, Aki-kun, and it's good to see you. Even if the circumstances are less than ideal."

After a few more parting exchanges, Akihiko found himself, at last, standing blessedly alone outside Hiroki's apartment. He immediately began fumbling through his pockets and almost whooped with relief when he located a crumpled pack with one last fag in it.

Standing on the walkway Akihiko lit up and took a deep drag.

As he did his pale eyes fell on the nameplate besides the door. He ran a long finger over Hiroki's name.

"You'd better fucking stay with us, Old Man," Akihiko whispered. "Because as much of a pain in the ass as you are to me sometimes, I love you…

"Whatever that means."

Akihiko stood staring at the name Kamijou for a few minutes longer. Then his phone rang.

A sweet smile replaced the bitter one he was wearing when Akihiko saw the caller. He tapped out his smoke and answered.

"Ah, Misaki… you must have been missing me… No, I'm not lost… I just got a little sidetracked… No, I'm on my way home now."

Akihiko picked up his step as he felt his young lover's voice pulling him from his past back more fully into the present.

As he headed towards his car he continued to listen to the irate lecture he was being given from the other end of the line.

He grinned at Misaki's scolding and growled back, "Look, if you'll wait up for me, I'll tell you all about it when I get home." Then he added in a much softer voice, his tone sober, "Oh, and I don't know that you'll need to spend too much more time tonight laboring on that literature assignment that was due tomorrow."

Next Up Nowaki gets to spend some quality time with Hiroki's Mama and then it's back to the hospital for more fun with poor ailing Hiro-san.

Thank you for the reads and the reviews!