Chapter 11
The last day of the literary festival had arrived. Hiroki and Nowaki, now refreshed from their indulgent morning, headed down. Hiroki's mood had noticeably improved, thanks in part to the relaxed pace of the day and Nowaki's infectious enthusiasm. Although Hiroki tried to maintain his usually serious demeanour, something undeniably light was in the air. Maybe it was Nowaki's presencethat seemed to lift Hiroki's spirits, or maybe it was the knowledge that he'd survived the previous evening's chaos. Either way, Hiroki found himself feeling… content, though he'd never say it out loud.
As they made their way back to the festival grounds, Nowaki walked beside Hiroki, casting glances at him every now and then. Hiroki, on the other hand, was doing his best to act completely unfazed, burying his nose in the festival's leaflet as if it were the most riveting academic text he'd ever read.
The festival grounds were buzzing with people—students, professors, authors, and avid readers all mingling together. Stalls lined the walls, showcasing various books, writing workshops, and publishing opportunities. Today's focus was something Hiroki was secretly excited about. He loved literary fiction, but his academic persona often overshadowed his personal interests.
"Alright, Hiro-san, what's the plan for today?" Nowaki asked, eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"I thought we'd—," Hiroki began, but was interrupted by the sound of Nowaki's stomach growling loudly. He shot his boyfriend a look, somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
Nowaki laughed sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't have enough breakfast."
"You ate more than me this morning, how are you hungry?" Hiroki asked, confused.
"Well, I guess my shower was more energetic than my usual morning routine." Nowaki grinned back, remembering their enjoyable steamy session.
Hiroki just blushed and rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We'll grab something to eat later."
Returning to the leaflet, Hiroki pointed out, "I saw that Akihiko has been roped into another Q session," Hiroki chuckled, imagining his friend's disdain for public appearances. "He hates those." Nowaki smiled at the comment, amused at his Hiro-sans reaction.
"There's also a talk by this year's Naoki and Akutagawa Prize winners," Hiroki added, pointing at the listing. "That should be worth checking out."
Nowaki nodded, enthusiasm lighting up his features. "That sounds great! I'll follow your lead, Hiro-san. And don't forget—you still need to get that book for Miyagi-san."
Hiroki winced. "Shit, I totally forgot! I got so caught up yesterday. We'll grab the book first thing."
As they wandered through the festival stalls, Hiroki's focus was sharp, scanning each booth for the elusive independent publisher's stall Miyagi had mentioned. Nowaki, however, was the complete opposite, drawn to every stall like a kid in a toy store.
"Oh wow, look! They have signed copies of that new crime novel that's been all over the news!"
"Nowaki, focus," Hiroki muttered.
"Oh, Hiro-san, check this out! A typewriter! It's so vintage!"
"Focus."
"Wait, are those hand-bound journals? We should—"
"Nowaki!" Hiroki turned to face him, exasperated but with a playful glint in his eyes. "I swear, you're like a puppy."
Nowaki grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Hiro-san. There's just so much to see! But don't worry, I'm right behind you."
Hiroki shook his head, though there was no hiding the fondness in his expression. "Just stick close."
It didn't take long before Hiroki spotted the stall he was looking for. "There!" he said, grabbing Nowaki's hand and pulling him through the crowd. Nowaki was beaming at Hiroki's physical contact, and as they reached the small publisher's booth,Hiroki immediately zeroed in on the book Miyagi wanted. With a satisfied smirk, he grabbed the book off the shelf and held it up like a trophy.
"Got it."
Nowaki's face lit up with pride, clapping his hands together with a cheerful enthusiasm. "Wow, Hiro-san, you're like a book-hunting ninja!"
Hiroki raised an eyebrow, snorting at the compliment. "Hardly," he replied with a smirk. "But at least now Miyagi owes me and can't go on about me 'not being kind' or whatever other nonsense he's been muttering. He should be kinder to me!"
Nowaki chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "You know, you're kinder than you give yourself credit for," he said softly, his voice full of affection.
Hiroki looked over at Nowaki, his usual reserved expression softening as he met Nowaki's gaze. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, a rare moment where he let down his guard. "Yeah, well... I've had a great example to follow," he admitted, his voice quiet but sincere.
They resumed their stroll through the festival, Hiroki carefully tucking the book under his arm. As they wandered past the booths and displays, Hiroki found himself more at ease than he'd been in ages.
Every now and then, Hiroki caught Nowaki sneaking glances at him. A soft smile played on Nowaki's lips each time their eyes met, and it made Hiroki's heart beat just a little faster. The glances were filled with a warmth Hiroki had come to rely on but still sometimes struggled to accept. But here, surrounded by the comfort of Nowaki's presence, he felt himself surrender to it, finding pleasure in these small, stolen looks.
As they passed a stand selling handmade notebooks, Nowaki suddenly stopped, his eyes lighting up as he turned to Hiroki. "Do you think Miyagi will be surprised? He probably didn't expect you to find it for him," Nowaki said, his smile widening.
Hiroki let out a short laugh, feeling unexpectedly playful. "He'll probably be so shocked he won't know what to say," he replied with a wry smile. "Not that it'll stop him from making some snide remark later. The best scenario is for no comment at all."
Nowaki laughed, and Hiroki felt a surge of warmth at the sound. These moments reminded him just how much Nowaki had changed his life, how much he'd come to look forward to hearing that laugh and sharing these small, joyful moments. With Nowaki by his side, even the familiar festival took on a new life, like he was seeing it through brighter, softer eyes.
"You just seem... different today," Nowaki said, his voice gentle.
"Different how?" Hiroki crossed his arms defensively.
"Relaxed. Happy, even."
Hiroki rolled his eyes. "I am always relaxed."
Nowaki raised an eyebrow. "Sure, Hiro-san. And I'm a Nobel Prize-winning physicist."
Hiroki gave him a flat look. "Shut up."
Nowaki just laughed again, clearly not taking Hiroki's attempt at grumpiness seriously. The truth was, Hiroki did feel different today, lighter somehow, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the fact that Nowaki was here with him, making everything seem less overwhelming. Or maybe it was the comfort of knowing that, at least for today, there was no need for any of his usual academic masks.
As they continued to wander through the festival, Nowaki, ever the ball of energy, pointed out different stalls and events, dragging Hiroki from one interesting thing to the next. At some point, they stumbled upon a booth showcasing rare first editions of famous Japanese authors, and Nowaki's eyes widened in awe.
"Hiro-san, look at this! An original first edition of Soseki's Kokoro! Even I know how rare this is. Can you imagine owning this?"
Hiroki, intrigued despite himself, stepped closer to examine the pristine copy. "That's impressive," he admitted.
Nowaki looked at Hiroki, a gleam in his eye. "One day, we should have a huge library full of books like this. Your academic books, my favourite novels… Maybe we can even get a cozy reading nook."
Hiroki raised an eyebrow. "You're planning our future now?"
Nowaki grinned sheepishly. "Well, yeah. I mean, don't you?"
Hiroki blushed, caught off guard by the sincerity in Nowaki's voice. "I-I don't know. I hadn't thought about it."
But Nowaki's words stirred something in Hiroki. The thought of a future together, the two of them, older, surrounded by books and quiet moments of shared peace, didn't seem so bad. In fact, it sounded... nice. He glanced at Nowaki, who was already imagining their future, a soft smile on his face.
"You're such a sap," Hiroki muttered, though there was no real bite in his words.
Nowaki just laughed, nudging Hiroki's shoulder affectionately. "Only because I love you, Hiro-san."
The words, so simple yet so profound, made Hiroki's heart skip a beat. He turned away, pretending to examine another book on the table, but the act didn't fool Nowaki.
After a quick snack, they eventually made their way to the grand hall where the Naoki and Akutagawa Prize winners were scheduled to speak. The room was alive with a sense of anticipation, filled with writers, literature enthusiasts, and industry professionals who'd come to celebrate the highest honours in Japanese literature. As they settled into their seats, Hiroki felt a flicker of excitement rise within him. The chance to hear from such prestigious authors was rare, and he was aware that they were witnessing a significant moment in the literary world.
"These prizes... they're a huge deal, you know," Hiroki murmured to Nowaki, leaning in as he glanced around the hall. "The Akutagawa Prize especially—it's awarded for literary excellence, and it's often considered the pinnacle of recognition for new and rising authors." He nodded toward the stage, where the award recipients were being introduced one by one. "Many of Japan's most celebrated writers—some of the greatest literary minds—started their careers by winning one of these awards. This is the kind of recognition that shapes an author's entire life."
Nowaki listened intently, his expression a blend of curiosity and admiration. "I can see why it means so much to you, Hiro-san," he said, squeezing Hiroki's hand lightly. "These writers have worked so hard to be here, haven't they?"
Hiroki nodded, his gaze turning serious. "Yes. Winning the Naoki Prize means their stories have resonated deeply with readers. It's for authors who create stories with broader appeal, books that readers connect with on a personal level. But the Akutagawa... it's awarded for literary craftsmanship. These authors are pushing boundaries, exploring complex themes, using language in ways that redefine the craft. To get either prize is to be recognized as one of the very best."
He glanced across the room and spotted Usami Akihiko leaning casually against the wall, his demeanour cool, if slightly disinterested. Hiroki nudged Nowaki and pointed. "Akihiko," he muttered. "Looks like he finished his Q early." Hiroki smirked, noting Akihiko's typical air of detachment, as if even this prestigious event couldn't entirely hold his interest.
But as the prize winners took the stage and began sharing their insights, the crowd fell silent, captivated. One of the authors—a young woman who had won the Akutagawa Prize—spoke about how she'd poured years of her life into her manuscript, challenging traditional storytelling methods to create something uniquely her own. Her voice trembled as she described the sacrifices she'd made, and the audience listened with rapt attention, fully aware of the weight of her achievement.
Hiroki felt Nowaki glance at him, a silent understanding passing between them. For Hiroki, who had devoted his life to literature, the stories unfolding on stage were a powerful reminder of why he'd chosen this path. And as he watched these authors share their journeys, he felt a renewed sense of inspiration—a reminder of the transformative power of words, and of the importance of their craft.
By the time the talk concluded, Hiroki felt something rekindle within him—an old, familiar flame of inspiration, raw and stirring. He hadn't realised just how much he'd missed this feeling, the thrill that came from being immersed in the creative energy of other writers who understood the power of words and the relentless pursuit of ideas. It felt like rediscovering a part of himself that had lain dormant for years.
As they left the hall, Hiroki could see that he wasn't alone in his reaction. Nowaki looked equally moved, a kind of quiet wonder on his face as he absorbed the impact of the authors' stories. "Wow," Nowaki whispered, still processing everything. "That was... amazing. Seeing people talk about their work, their dreams like that—it's inspiring, isn't it?"
Hiroki nodded, a smile breaking free at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, it was," he agreed, the words feeling both familiar and strangely new as if he were admitting something he'd known all along but hadn't fully voiced.
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, allowing the weight of the experience to settle over them. Then, glancing at Nowaki, Hiroki felt an uncharacteristic urge for spontaneity—a desire to hold onto the lingering sense of wonder they'd shared. "Let's take a walk," he suggested, surprised by the ease with which the words slipped out.
Nowaki's face lit up instantly, his eyes gleaming with delight. "I'd love that, Hiro-san."
Hiroki led them both through the maze of stands and stalls, weaving through the bustling crowd with practised ease. They passed booths showcasing everything from rare first editions to artisanal pens, each stand an homage to the art and culture surrounding literature. As they passed a stall on traditional Japanese cooking, Hiroki caught a glimpse of Misaki, thoroughly absorbed in a book about regional dishes. Despite Misaki's animated interest, Hiroki couldn't help but feel relieved the younger man hadn't noticed them—small talk wasn't what he wanted right now. Today was about being with Nowaki, free from formalities and distractions, simply just the two of them.
He'd originally intended to take them outside for a walk, new adventure. But as they neared the hotel exit, he felt Nowaki's hand gently tugging on his own, pulling him to a . Hiroki turned, surprised, catching the sparkle in Nowaki's eyes.
"How about we go to the rooftop garden instead?" Nowaki suggested, his tone warm and full of a quiet excitement. Hiroki raised an eyebrow, both at the suggestion and the fact that Nowaki even knew about such a place. The idea of a garden perched above the city intrigued him, and he found himself curious.
Before he could respond, Nowaki was already leading him back through the lobby and toward the elevators, a playful smile dancing on his lips. Hiroki followed, his own interest piqued, enjoying the spontaneity of it all.
When the lift doors slid open and they stepped inside, Hiroki noticed Nowaki's smirk deepen—a mischievous, knowing look that immediately made Hiroki's stomach flip.
It didn't take long for Hiroki to remember why. The night before, they'd shared an intense, heavy make-out session right here, caught up in a moment that had felt thrilling and dangerous. The memory crept over him, and Hiroki could feel a flush rise to his cheeks. He averted his gaze, embarrassed by the thought that he could still feel the ghost of that kiss lingering between them.
Nowaki, clearly enjoying Hiroki's reaction, pressed the button for the top floor. His hand hovered a fraction longer than necessary, his gaze lingering on Hiroki with that same mischievous spark as if daring him to remember exactly what had happened here. Hiroki shifted uncomfortably, the warmth in the small, enclosed space suddenly becoming noticeable. The air felt charged with unspoken energy, and he was keenly aware of Nowaki's presence beside him.
For a moment, silence enveloped them, the quiet hum amplifying the tension. Hiroki stole a quick glance at Nowaki, who looked utterly relaxed, one corner of his mouth pulled up in a faint smile. Hiroki's heart thumped, memories from the previous night swirling around him. The lift's slow ascent felt more drawn out than usual, adding to the tantalising closeness between them.
Just as he was about to say something to break the silence, the lift dinged softly, announcing their arrival. By the time the doors opened, Nowaki had already recovered his composure, and Hiroki followed him silently, still slightly amazed that Nowaki seemed to know more about their surroundings than he did. Making a mental note to pay better attention in the future—especially after the embarrassing incident of not even knowing his own room number—Hiroki trailed behind as Nowaki confidently navigated toward the rooftop garden.
They climbed a small set of stairs, and when they reached the rooftop, Hiroki stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned. The garden was breathtaking—lush greenery surrounded them, with a variety of flowers in full bloom. The view stretched far beyond the city, the distant skyline gleaming under the late afternoon sun.
"You knew about this?" Hiroki asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
Nowaki grinned. "I overheard some guests talking about it yesterday, so I looked it up. Thought it might be a nice place to escape."
Hiroki shook his head, smiling despite himself. "You really do think of everything, don't you?"
Nowaki chuckled. "Only when it comes you, Hiro-san."
The soft breeze, the vibrant flowers, the view of the city stretching out before them—it was the perfect escape from the festival's busy crowds. They found a secluded bench tucked beneath a canopy of potted trees and small bushes, and for a while, they sat in peaceful silence. The sound of rustling leaves and the faint hum of city life below created a soothing backdrop as Hiroki let his mind wander. The festival, the talks, even the leisurely morning—it all felt like a perfect balance, and for once, Hiroki didn't feel the need to rush through anything.
Nowaki, sensing Hiroki's contentment, leaned back against the bench, his hand casually brushing against Hiroki's. They sat like that for a while, and neither of them needed to say much. The connection between them was enough.
As Hiroki gazed out at the view, he felt that renewed spark of inspiration from earlier stir within him again. He rarely allowed himself to be—to enjoy the quiet moments without overthinking or overanalysing. But today, with Nowaki beside him, he realised how much he had missed this kind of peace.
Breaking the silence, Nowaki turned to Hiroki with a soft smile. "Hiro-san, it's been a while since I've seen you this relaxed."
Hiroki sighed, his expression softening. "Yeah, it has. I guess… I needed this more than I realised."
Nowaki's eyes sparkled as he leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well, if you ever need more of this, I'm always here."
Hiroki's chest tightened at the sincerity in Nowaki's words. He looked at Nowaki, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the sun. There were no walls between them at that moment, no pretence or hesitation.
"Thank you, Nowaki," Hiroki said quietly, his words carrying more weight than usual.
Nowaki smiled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Anything for you, Hiro-san."
As they continued to sit together, the gentle breeze caressing their faces, Hiroki found himself lost in thought. The weekend had unfolded in a way he hadn't expected—soft and slow but also loud and social and filled with moments of quiet affection. He was grateful, more than he knew how to express, and that gratitude swelled inside him until it was too much to hold back.
Hiroki turned to Nowaki, his gaze steady and full of warmth. "Nowaki…" he began, his voice quieter than usual. Nowaki shifted slightly, giving Hiroki his full attention.
"I just…" Hiroki struggled with the words, not because they weren't true, but because he wasn't used to saying them. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I wanted to thank you—for this weekend. For… everything." His tone was sincere, vulnerable in a way that surprised even himself.
Nowaki's smile softened, his eyes shining with that familiar love and understanding that never seemed to falter. "You don't have to thank me, Hiro-san. I'm just happy I could spend this time with you."
Hiroki's heart swelled again, and he leaned slightly closer to Nowaki, his body moving on instinct. "I don't say it enough, and I probably should." He hesitated, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before he gathered the courage to continue. "I love you, Nowaki."
The words fell softly between them, and for a split second, Hiroki worried about how Nowaki would respond. But when he looked back up, he saw the pure joy on Nowaki's face—a joy that sent a wave of relief and warmth crashing over him.
Nowaki's breath seemed to hitch for just a moment as the words sank in, his expression softening into one of pure joy. It wasn't often that Hiroki said "I love you" first, and this moment felt even more special because of it. Gently, he took Hiroki's hand, intertwining their fingers as he squeezed it in a tender response, his thumb brushing over Hiroki's knuckles in a slow, comforting rhythm. There was no rush, no need for grand gestures—only the quiet, overwhelming truth of Hiroki's confession hanging in the air between them.
Hiroki could feel his own heart racing, a gentle flush rising to his cheeks as he glanced away, almost embarrassed by his own vulnerability. But Nowaki's gaze never wavered; he watched Hiroki with a kind of awe, as if he were seeing him for the first time all over again. "Hiro-san…" Nowaki's voice was soft, reverentas if he were savouring the moment.
Hiroki looked back up, his chest tightening again, but this time with something even deeper—a sense of finally feeling understood and cherished. Nowaki's eyes glistened as he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against Hiroki's, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice filled with a warmth that made Hiroki's heart flutter. "More than you could ever know."
They stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, wrapped in a more profound silence than . Hiroki felt the comfort of Nowaki's hand in his own, the soft, grounding pressure of his touch, and he knew this was where he belonged.
Gradually, Hiroki felt his nerves melt away as he allowed himself to sink fully into the moment. The outside world dissolved, its noise and demands fading into the background, leaving only the quiet sanctuary they'd created between them. Gone were the worries and second-guessing that so often weighed on him; all that remained was the closeness, the warmth he'd found in Nowaki's presence. He made a silent promise to himself to say "I love you" more often, to hold onto moments like these.
As they sat together, Hiroki leaned into Nowaki, feeling the world around them fade away until only their small haven on the rooftop remained. The city's hum faded into the distance, leaving them alone under the softening sky, cocooned in their quiet love. Nowaki looked at Hiroki, his expression luminous with happiness from Hiroki's confession. He gently tilted Hiroki's chin, their gazes meeting in an exchange filled with unspoken love.
"Being with you… it feels like coming home," Nowaki whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The words caught Hiroki off guard, surprising him with their depth. Nowaki's eyes softened, his gaze brimming with an almost overwhelming tenderness. "You are my home, Hiro-san," he continued, his tone carrying a warmth Hiroki could feel in every word. "Growing up, I never really had a place that felt like that. I dreamed of having a family, a love that was steady and true—and that's you. You're what I always wished for."
Nowaki's words wrapped around Hiroki's heart, filling him with a kind of peace he hadn't known he was missing. He realised, perhaps for the first time, how much he meant to Nowaki, not just as a partner, but as someone who made Nowaki's life feel complete. In that moment, Hiroki knew he'd found his place as well, right by Nowaki's side.
They leaned toward each other without hesitation, drawn together by a gentle but undeniable pull. For a brief second, they paused, letting the moment settle over them, knowing just how much they belonged to one another. Hiroki closed his eyes, surrendering to the warmth of Nowaki's presence as their lips met. It was initially soft, hesitant, like a promise exchanged without words. But the kiss deepened slowly, every movement filled with care and intention, as if they had all the time in the world to savour each breath, each heartbeat, and each moment of closeness. It was just the two of them, wrapped in a love that made the world feel impossibly beautiful and whole.
Nowaki's hand slid from Hiroki's cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of his jaw, drawing him closer as his fingers threaded through Hiroki's hair. Hiroki's heart raced, but he relaxed, melting against Nowaki as their kiss became more consuming, intense yet unhurried. He felt Nowaki's steady heartbeat against his chest, grounding himandfilling him with a sense of belonging and warmth.
The world around them—the sounds of the city, the faint smell of coffee and old books from the festival stalls—faded away entirely. All that existed in that moment was the feel of Nowaki's lips moving against his, a dance of affection, devotion, and love. Hiroki's hand moved to rest against Nowaki's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths, steady and calm, a mirror to his own.
When they finally parted, it was as if they'd shared a silent vow, the love they felt more tangible than words could capture. Hiroki opened his eyes to meet Nowaki's gaze, and they both smiled, a quiet happiness passing between them. They didn't need to say anything; the kiss had said it all—an assurance that, no matter where they were or what lay ahead, they were exactly where they were meant to be: together.
"You really know how to make a moment feel special, don't you?" he murmured, as he turned his head to rest against Nowaki's shoulder.
Nowaki chuckled, his hand gently rubbing circles on Hiroki's back. "Only because you're here with me, Hiro-san."
They stayed like that for a while, the afternoon sun casting golden light across the garden as they sat wrapped in each other's presence, their hearts full and their love stronger than ever, basking in the tranquillity of the afternoon before eventually deciding to head back down. The festival would continue for a few more hours, but the day's highlight had already been found for Hiroki—in the simple moments he'd shared with Nowaki, far away from the noise and crowds below.
AN – The weekend continues! They finally made it out of their room *cough* No judgement from me. Ha! Once I started writing, this chapter got a mind of its own, so it is much longer than I first intended. I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to write some fluff and tender moments between them. Just writing Nowaki as the dream man! I'm jealous of Hiroki. That kiss on the roof, swoon!
As always feedback, comments and the like are always welcome. Let me know if you your thoughts. I'd love to hear them.
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