Anchor

Written by: RinoaDestiny

#47 – Golden Week (Day 6)

Yesterday had passed like a blur, fraught with heightened emotions and no recourse except apologizing and Iori wasn't anywhere near ready for that, yet. After an embarrassing moment of crying – Kyo, thankfully, had taken his hint and left – Iori had eaten the parfait (hard to swallow past the lump in his throat), clenched his teeth and gone in search of Kyo. His boyfriend wasn't far away, but their return to his apartment was awkward and silent and words were absent between them.

He didn't remember much afterwards. A silent dinner and both of them retired to different places for the night – he stayed in his bedroom, while Kyo took the couch. Too much hung in the balance for superficial comfort to smooth the edges. Kyo had tried with a hug, but Iori had stiffened, an obvious cue to back off. Kyo had done so, if reluctantly and Iori shut himself away among books and paper, mind adrift with bewilderment and pain.

It was a sleepless night, rest coming late as dawn arrived.

Despite everything, Iori found himself missing the presence of Kyo beside him. Did Kyo feel the same? He turned, mussed hair in his face and on his pillow, faint light slivers peeking through closed eyes. Hands around fistfuls of blanket, he desired callused skin, hard muscle, and a firm strong body. Kyo's voice, memorable, lingered in this space, at once mellow and humorous.

His body betrayed him, thoughts like arrows hitting their target.

Goddammit.

At one point, he briefly looked around, spotted Kyo's belongings and caved in to utter relief. At least Kyo hadn't packed up and left – that would've ruined Iori's mood for the rest of Golden Week and perhaps even beyond. Maybe Kyo knew that, too. Maybe…there was still hope for them.

Yet, Yuki remained, an open wound for him, festering.

Iori couldn't explain why he was jealous of her. Yes, Kyo had confirmed and reconfirmed they were together now – Yuki an ex, hardly a rival – but that did nothing to stifle his fears and insecurities. Yuki had been destined for Kyo Kusanagi, fates intertwined by their clans and bloodlines and…what was he? A former rival (even enemy), their clans meant to clash and quarrel and destroy each other. He'd somehow stolen Kyo's heart, placed Yuki to the sidelines, but even so…

Had he disrupted some divine colossal plan by doing so?

It was evident Yuki still had feelings for Kyo. How could she not, having spent years with him before Iori entered the scene? Every time he saw her, it was a rude reminder of Kyo's previous relationship with her. Every time she was there, Iori felt like a third wheel, treading on ground that wasn't his.

Articulating this, though, was impossible. Ludicrous even, judging from Kyo's reaction to yesterday's incident.

Thinking this, Iori dozed off, exhausted. Sounds ceased and he was weightless, floating in the comfort of sleep. By the time he awoke, somewhat groggy and bleary-eyed, it was afternoon based on the sunlight in his room. Knuckling gritty residue from the corners of his eyes, Iori glanced around. The books on his desk had been pushed aside, making room for a small breakfast tray. Rice, soup (now cold), karaage, and a canned coffee. Kyo had been here earlier, seen him sleeping, and went out of his way to prepare a meal for him.

The lump in his throat returned. He was not going to cry.

Foregoing dressing, Iori flung the blanket aside and sat in his boxers by the desk. He brought the tray close to him – where was Kyo? – partaking of the cold breakfast. It wasn't a peace offering (or else Kyo would be here), but it was considerate and necessary at this hour. Ravenous, he bolted down the rice, drank the soup straight from the bowl without using the spoon, and devoured the fried chicken. After throwing on a plain white shirt, Iori took the canned coffee and opened the bedroom door.

The apartment was quiet, but not empty. Kyo lay on the couch, arms folded behind his head, looking at him as he entered the common room. Iori stopped, hesitating for a second before closing the distance. He stared down at his boyfriend, unsure how to break the silence or broach the subject lingering between them. A cigarette would be nice, yet he'd left the pack in his bedroom.

"Sleep well?"

"Did you make breakfast?" Despite it all being convenience store food, Kyo had bought them and arranged the tray. It wasn't a goodwill gesture he needed to make – not after their quarrel yesterday.

"You like it? It's kinda the same like last time."

"I noticed." Silence fell; Iori fidgeted with the canned coffee. "Kyo, about yesterday –"

"Yagami, whatever issue you have with Yuki, we can work through it." At the mention of Yuki, Kyo had raised himself to a sitting position. "I just don't like you erupting at her. She didn't do anything, you know."

He knew. It was what made this subject difficult. "Were you really going to eat the parfait in front of her?"

"Yes. Don't see any harm in it."

Iori sighed, placed the coffee down on the table, and took a seat beside Kyo. Interlacing his fingers together, he stared down at them before redirecting his gaze. Kyo's expression was concerned, in earnest, eyes bronze from reflected light. "Not so simple for me."

"Why?"

A simple question without an easy answer. "It just…she's your ex. You've probably done the same with her before. So…" He paused, frustrated with his inability to shape the words to suit the meaning he wanted. "It's intimate and you've…she…how the fuck am I supposed to say it?"

"But you admitted you resent her."

"Yeah. That's part of it." A large part, in fact, but…. "It just feels wrong." Not in front of everyone else, only Yuki. "Like I'm sharing the occasion with her." Was that it? Or was that still surface level, avoiding deeper issues?

Kyo made a face. "She's not your rival."

"I know. But she feels like one." Perhaps that was the heart of the matter, which he was afraid to confront. "You were with her for a long time."

"I'm not now."

"Still…" Iori shrugged, defaulting to a familiar motion.

"Yagami, listen to me. Yes, I was with her before, long before I knew you. But that's over now and you need to believe me. She's not your rival – she never was – and you're not a substitute for her, okay? She's not to blame for anything you feel."

This, he also knew and yet, knowing and handling it were two different matters. "But I'm at fault because of how I feel?"

"No." Kyo's tone was emphatic, punctuated by a firm shake of his head. "You can't help that. You can restrain your actions, though."

Iori let out a small bitter laugh. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Make it easier for us."

"Didn't get into this relationship thinking it'd be easy, Yagami. I knew what I was getting into. Don't think I did it for a joke or a whim, 'k?"

"If you did, you'd be out by now."

"And I'm not. Put your mind at ease."

It was true. If Kyo wasn't serious, they wouldn't have even lasted a week before Kyo revealed insincerity; instead, Iori was grateful Kyo meant it, despite all the upheavals he'd thrown into their brief time together. He wasn't an easy lover, especially with Kyo. "You're a glutton for punishment," he said, for Kyo stuck by him regardless of their differences and quarrels.

"Odd. I'd say that of you."

Kyo wasn't incorrect. Typical of him, he'd dragged Kyo down with him, his self-inflicted insecurities showing its ugly sides and marring what should've been a pleasant week. Iori allowed the silence to extend a bit longer before responding as he groped for words applicable to this situation. "You know apologies are difficult for me," he admitted, hearing that thought spoken out loud for the first time. "Not easy for me to…" Admit I'm wrong. In anything.

"I know." Kyo laid a hand over his intertwined ones. "You decide when you're ready for it. No hurry. Just one thing, Yagami."

"What's that?"

"I'd like if you can apologize to Yuki, too. Whenever you next see her."

Iori stiffened, back straight and rigid. "Why?" Kyo's hand left his, so he took the moment to separate his hands. He understood apologizing to Kyo eventually, but to his ex? Why – particularly after that incident?

"'Cause you scared her. She tried not to show it, but I know she was afraid. She was the first time you met, remember?"

A ballsy schoolgirl facing him on the steps, staring up and telling him explicitly to leave her boyfriend alone. How could he forget? That'd been years ago, during the start of their rivalry and he'd stalked Kyo down in the city, interrupting his time with Yuki. The girl hadn't been pleased and in a show of bravado, had tried blocking him off from Kyo.

He'd been inwardly impressed, but Yuki was small and not a fighter. He'd seized her, threatened to hurt her (although he never would), and then tossed her aside when Kyo called his bluff. Yes, the girl had been afraid back then and so probably still would be. Just because his claws were retracted didn't mean they weren't there.

"It's a lot to ask for, Kyo."

"I know, but I'm asking it. It's between you and her. I'll leave it to you."

He should be gracious – it wasn't an ultimatum – and yet, the request stung. Grimacing, he reached for the canned coffee, opened it, and downed a mouthful. He placed the can back on the table, trying to disentangle his thoughts, and craved a cigarette. Maybe two or three to settle his nerves. Resolved, he stood. "Need a smoke break."

Kyo simply nodded, watching him leave.

Cigarette number three no longer tasted as wonderful as the first, but his roiling nerves had leveled out, almost placid. In the parking lot below, Kyo's motorcycle gleamed, chrome and sleek paint, a fitting vehicle for its owner. With most of the cars gone due to the holiday week, Kyo's presence here was more pronounced. Fortunately, with nothing to hide, the Kusanagi bike parked in Iori's assigned spot hardly stirred attention.

Ash crumbled off the tip of his cigarette. Taking another drag, Iori gazed at the familiar scenery. With nicotine running through his veins, he once again considered the dilemma presented to him.

Apologize to Yuki – to Kyo's former girlfriend – for a wrong done to her in public. He'd gotten in her face, fully intent to intimidate and according to Kyo, she'd been afraid. Kyo looked out for his friends, which included Yuki now, and Iori had agreed himself to try being civil to them. He'd hardly tried there, seeing Yuki as a romantic rival still, and while Kyo's request was understandable (even reasonable), Iori balked at it. To find Yuki and personally apologize to her felt…humbling? Humiliating? To do so would admit her first impressions of him were correct; then again, her very first confrontation with him proved her point. Either way, he would lose face.

Yet, he couldn't refuse Kyo's request. Not unless he wanted a premature end to their relationship. He didn't, because then Orochi would gloat, considering it another victory over him. Iori would sooner be damned again than hand an easy win to that bastard. It left him with two choices and only one was acceptable.

He sighed, expelling smoke. It floated, wispy, only to dissipate within seconds. Finishing his cigarette, Iori collected the butts for disposal and reentered his apartment. Kyo hadn't given him a timeframe, which gave him breathing room. He needed it, because the request was monumental. It went against his training, against everything he'd been molded to become. The Yagami heir apologized to no one.

Apparently, that was going to change.

Kyo was in the eat-in kitchen, nursing a beer. Judging by the empty cans on the table and Kyo's pink complexion, both of them needed an alternative form of relaxation today. After tossing the cigarette butts in the trash, Iori turned to him. "You okay there?" Despite their few trips to the bar, Kyo Kusanagi was a lightweight around alcohol, especially if he'd pounded them down on an empty stomach. "Did you have breakfast?"

"An instant ramen bowl." His boyfriend took another drink, reddening. "'Bout same time when I made you breakfast."

That'd been hours ago. At least Kyo wasn't slurring or acting stupid. "You hungry?" Iori opened the fridge, checking the remainder from their grocery trip. After quickly going through what they already had earlier in the week, he settled on the pristine packages of unopened udon noodles. "How does udon sound?"

"Great!"

Udon was quick to prepare, tasty, and in Kyo's case, a good meal to stave off a possible hangover. Iori glanced at Kyo, who was happily flushed, and decided kitchen responsibilities were all his. Hot water and knives around an inebriated Kyo was asking for disaster and injury. While he heated the water for boiling, Iori prepared the broth with the condiments already at hand: dashi, soy sauce, mirin, and some sugar and salt. He left the spring onions for last.

"Hey, some shichimi togarashi would be nice, too!"

Without looking, Iori opened a side cabinet and retrieved the tiny container of spice blend. He put it on the counter with a small clack and then turned to his knife, chopping board, and the spring onions. Halfway, he stopped to cook the noodles, slipping them carefully into the pot of boiling water.

Like the udon, his cares fell away, soothed by the ritualistic step-by-step of cooking and its related savory smells.

He hadn't noticed he was hungry.

"Need me to set the table?" Kyo asked out of the blue, having sidled next to him while he was unawares. His face was still a bright pink, smell of alcohol strong on his breath.

"Just don't break anything," Iori said, not wanting to clean up broken dishes in addition to everything else. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah!"

Warily observing Kyo on his periphery, Iori brought the noodles to a second boil and finished chopping the spring onions for garnish. Kyo passed behind him, utensils in hand, and placed the bowls on the counter. His smile was giddy and bright and it was all too obvious Kyo Kusanagi was tipsy as hell. At least he was walking straight?

Iori shook his head and brought the noodles to a third and final boil, upon which he drained and put under cold tap water to cool. As this occurred, he gave Kyo's work a once-over, marking the placement of utensils and napkins. Off to the side were the beer cans. A quick gesture and Kyo, fumbling a bit, removed them for recycling.

The timing was right, since the noodles were ready. Carefully transferring half the slippery mass into each bowl, Iori topped them up with broth and added the spring onions. A bowl in each hand, lunch was immediately served and he placed the shichimi togarashi in front of Kyo, whose face brightened at the sight. Customary saying said, his boyfriend started, sprinkling a good amount of the spice blend on his noodles.

Much slurping ensued.

Iori sat down and commenced doing the same, for while ramen tasted better slurped, udon was meant for it. The noodles were long and slick, flavored by the light broth and the mild acidic bite of spring onion. He enjoyed the slight chewiness, trying not to devour the entire bowl too soon. Next to him, Kyo drank his remaining broth with noisy gusto. Masking his smile with another bite, Iori watched his delight and slowed to savor what was left of his.

"Ah, that was good!"

Culinary-wise, it didn't take much to please Kyo. The clink and clank of chopsticks and soup spoon into Kyo's bowl signaled the end of his lunch. Kyo stretched like a satisfied cat and smiled. "I'll be on the couch. Join me when you're done, 'k?" Before Iori could respond, Kyo was up and out, bounding on the energy of several beers.

Iori blinked, trying to register how quickly Kyo was here and then wasn't. It only occurred to him now that Kyo Kusanagi at times was the human equivalent of a pachinko ball.

No wonder he was easily exhausted, sometimes.

"You get drunk often?" Iori asked, prodding Kyo as the man lay comfortably on top of him, still tipsy but very much clothed. "You always like this?"

"Dad outdrinks me." Kyo nuzzled against him, cheek warm. "Can't beat him."

Iori tried to imagine a drunk Saisyu flapping around and failed. If he was similar to his son, well…. "Your old man's different. They're made of sterner stuff." He couldn't remember his father ever drinking to excess, unless it was a private vice. "And you're much softer than he is."

"Am not! Beat him when I was fifteen!"

"Drinking, Kyo. Not fighting." Iori glanced down at brown hair, bright brown eyes, and pink cheeks. "Though I guess for you, it's all the same."

Kyo giggled.

Iori had never, in his wildest imagination, thought Kyo would giggle. Lightweight, indeed and a very happy drunk. It could've been worse – he could've had an angry whirlwind on his hands instead. He'd take this, thank the gods. "This doesn't happen to you a lot, does it?"

"Nope!"

It explained this situation. "Well, better here than at the bar."

"What 'bout you, Yagami?"

"I try not to get drunk," he said, recollections of embarrassing moments coming unbidden. "You wouldn't like to see it."

"Aww."

"You really haven't changed much, you know?" Iori nudged Kyo with his finger, pressing lightly between his thick eyebrows. "If I'd met you in high school –"

"But you have."

"I mean while we were both students. Maybe even at the same school." That mightn't guarantee their current status, though. Perhaps they had to meet at the tournament and go through every crisis together. Young teenagers bearing hatred and rife with hormones would cause chaos; as it was, they'd caused enough damage in their never-ending twenties.

Kyo frowned. "We'd…burn the school down."

"Perhaps. Or we'll be rivals in other ways."

"How?"

"Maybe academically. Or sports." Reaching out, Iori ran his hand through Kyo's hair. "We'd clash somehow."

"You'd win on the first." Kyo's expression changed, alcohol-addled gears in his head turning. "Might have a chance with the second…depending."

"On the sport?"

"Yeah. But you're good at those, too." Like a cat, Kyo stuck out his tongue. "So I'd probably…clobber you."

"You can try."

"Try?" Kyo lifted his head, aiming at indignant glare at him. "I'd win!"

"Maybe."

"A Kusanagi never loses!"

The alcohol in Kyo was talking, since there was evidence to the contrary. Pleased with their current arrangement, Iori let it slide, wishing to remain undisturbed. "You like the idea of winning, huh?"

"Don't you?"

"Yeah. But only against you."

"Hah!" Seemingly content with his answer, Kyo lay back down. "Yagami?"

"Huh?"

"Would've been nice to meet you…back then."

They probably would've torn the school apart or gotten into fights or found some way to boast of accomplishments, but it did raise the question of what could've been. If it'd led them to this point earlier, then that wouldn't be so bad, would it? There was still the question of Yuki, though – she would also be there – but Iori shoved it aside, unwilling to spoil his mood. Kyo was here, blissfully drunk and carefree, and Iori was ever so grateful for it.

"You know…it mightn't be so bad if we did."

Kyo smiled and the world was all right again.

Comments: When Kyo refers to Yuki's first confrontation with Iori, that comes from the KOF: Kyo manga. Always thought she was gutsy back then, standing up for her man against one of the most dangerous guys in their area. Since reading that, I've always liked her, heh.