Chapter Two: T-Minus 4, T-Minus 3

When Eiji arrived home, Sing was waiting for him in his apartment. He sat on the couch, Buddy draped in his lap. Buddy slept peacefully, under the slow stroking motion of Sing's hand upon his fur.

Eiji knew Sing was there before even unlocking the door, for light was streaming out from the crack under the door. Eiji kept a small light on in his bedroom for Buddy, but otherwise, he typically kept the place dark. He liked the dark, especially when he sat with His picture in the evening. He wasn't sure why, exactly, but it was comforting.

"Sing," Eiji said cooly as he entered the apartment.

"I know you're not happy I'm here," Sing began, "But I'm not going anywhere. And I wouldn't have to show up like this if you'd just answer your damn phone."

Eiji said nothing. He untied his shoes and removed his winter coat, taking longer than necessary to prolong the inevitable of joining Sing in the apartment.

"I don't need a babysitter," he decided to say.

"I never said you did."

"Sure act like it. You and Dr. Madison both."

"We're worried about you. It's almost the—"

"I know what day it is, Sing!" Eiji shouted through the small apartment. Buddy's ears perked up. "And I know what happened last year! But I wasn't trying to die last year! I just—" he placed a hand on his chest, forcing himself to slow his breathing. "I lost control."

Sing stood from the couch, uprooting Buddy in the process, and walked toward Eiji. He towered over him in the entryway. "If that's true, it only makes it scarier."

Eiji stepped away from him, walking into the kitchen. "If that's true," he mocked. "It is true. It's not my fault no one will believe me."

"Do you think Ash would believe you?"

Eiji's eyes filled with something akin to hatred. "Don't say His name," he chided through gritted teeth.

"Why? Why are you so against saying his name? It doesn't change anything to say or not say his name."

"I don't want you to say it!"

"But why?!"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHY!" Eiji turned from him to hide his tears. He opened the fridge and looked inside, knowing full well that, besides beer, he wouldn't find anything edible inside.

Sing was quiet then. He watched Eiji as he pretended to look for something to eat.

"There's nothing in there," he said after a pause of silence. "I already checked."

Eiji closed the fridge and moved on to the cabinets.

"Judging by those bottles," he gestured to the overflowing trash bin that was heavy with empty beer cans and liquor bottles, "You've been getting all your calories from alcohol." Sing stepped into the kitchen and sat at the small round table in the corner. "I have every reason to worry."

Eiji stared at the container of rice in the cabinets. He shut the door and returned to the fridge where he plucked a beer from the shelf.

"That's not going to solve any of your problems."

Eiji slammed the fridge, beer in hand. "Dammit, Sing! Do you think I don't know that!?" He popped open the beer and gulped it. "I know it fixes nothing! But at least it quiets my brain! It's once a year, can't you just let me be sad in peace!?"

Sing stood from the table. Eiji backed up as Sing stepped closer.

"What?!" Eiji asked with burning eyes and blurred vision.

"It's not only once a year," Sing said quietly. He attempted to pry the beer from Eiji's hand, though Eiji didn't give in easily. They struggled with it for a moment. In the end, they crushed the can, sending liquid running down both their forearms and onto the floor.

"Fuck," Eiji cursed. "That was the last one."

Sing nodded. "I know."

Now empty, Eiji loosened his grip. Sing tossed it into the trash.

Sing placed his strong hands on Eiji's shoulders. "No more alcohol. I'm gonna order some real food."

Eiji averted his eyes in anger.

"You can hate me, but your liver loves me."

Eiji scoffed. "Whatever."

"You sure don't make it easy, though."

"What's that?"

"Loving you."

Eiji pulled away from his hands. "I don't want you to love me. I don't want anyone to love me."

"Exactly."

"The food's here," Sing said, looking up from his phone. He moved toward the door. "You better let me back in," he said as he slid on his tennis shoes.

Eiji didn't move from his spot on the couch; he was cocooned in an old, patchwork blanket that everyone assumed once belonged to Him, though Eiji never said one way or the other.

"If you're so worried about it, don't lock it when you leave," he muttered.

Sing said nothing in reply. The door closed.

Eiji lifted his head to peek at the door. Sing hadn't locked it. Eiji's head fell back to the couch. He considered getting up to lock the door, to lock Sing out, but he couldn't bring himself to move. The boy on the wall was watching him. He had already seen Eiji at his worst, but this would be a new low. He left the door unlocked.

After a few minutes, Sing returned, carrying two large pizzas and a two-liter bottle of Coke.

Eiji sat as he entered. His eyes widened with fear, and he clutched the old blanket close to his chest. "Why is there so much?"

Sing kicked the door shut. "Relax, no one else is coming," he answered, reading Eiji's mind.

Eiji relaxed just a hair. "Why did you buy so much, then?"

Sing set the pizza on the kitchen counter, out of Buddy's reach. He made them each a plate, loading three slices onto each plate, and poured a soda for them both.

Sing made his way to the living room and handed Eiji his plate. "You haven't been eating. Don't think I can't tell. Take it." Reluctantly, Eiji did. "So now you get to make up for lost time."

Eiji looked at him as if he had three heads. "You expect the two of us to go through two? Tonight?" Eiji fully knew that he hadn't eaten a full, adult-sized meal in at least two or three weeks.

Sing sat on the sofa beside him. "Whatever we don't eat tonight, we finish tomorrow."

Eiji shook his head. Two pizzas would last him a week or two. "That's insane," he said quietly, his voice filled with disbelief.

Sing took a bite of his slice. "Mmmm, no," his mouth chased the stringy cheese that trailed from his slice, "What's insane is you just thinking you can starve yourself and I'll just sit by and watch."

Pain flashed across Eiji's face. He stood. "Screw you," he whispered. He moved to lower his plate to the floor. As if on cue, Buddy began trotting over to them.

Sing intercepted the plate, pulling it toward himself before Buddy could claim it. "Sit back down," he said calmly. Upon hearing the command, Buddy sat, though Eiji remained standing, the blanket still draped around his shoulders. "Sit, Eiji," he said again, more firmly this time. Buddy barked. Eiji rejoined him on the sofa.

Again, Buddy barked.

Sing looked at the dog, annoyed. "What?"

"He wants a treat for sitting," Eiji explained, in a soft voice.

Sing tossed him a pepperoni from his own plate. He gave Eiji his plate back. "Eat."

Eiji accepted the plate, hands shaking slightly. "I— There's no way I can eat all of this."

"Just fucking eat and see how far you get."

Eiji's dark eyes continued to stare at the pizza.

"Eat!"

"I will!"

"Show me!"

Eiji shoved the slice into his mouth. He took a massive bite, chewing quickly and swallowing. He bit into it again and again until he reached the crust. He quickly ate the crust as well and then licked his fingers clean.

"Happy?" He asked Sing.

Sing raised an eyebrow. "I still see two slices on that plate, Okumura."

Eiji's mind reeled, suddenly flooded with memories of a similar conversation he'd once had with Him.

"What the fuck is this, Okumura?" Ash asked, staring into the bowl Eiji had set before him.

Eiji squinted at him, trying to appear upset. "Miso soup."

"It looks alive," Ash frowned at the soup.

"That's because it's fermented," Eiji told him, unable to hold back his smile. "So I guess, in a way, it is alive."

Ash pushed the bowl away from himself. "I'm not eating that."

Eiji pouted at him. "At least try it."

Ash said nothing before muttering, "Fine." He tasted the soup.

"Well?"

Ash huffed. "It's not half bad."

Eiji beamed at him. "It's delicious," he corrected. "And good for you too. Eat up!"

"Eiji?" Sing asked, snapping Eiji back to the present.

"Please don't call me that," Eiji said solemnly.

"What? Oku—"

"Hey!" Eiji interrupted. "I just asked you not to."

Sing's mouth snapped shut. He watched Eiji's eyes fill with tears. "His name is already off limits. Since when is yours?"

Eiji took a shallow breath. "Since now. I'm not in a good headspace, Sing. It makes me think of Him."

There was a long, harsh pause filled only with the sounds of Eiji's troubled breathing.

"Finish your pizza," Sing said at long last.

Miraculously, Eiji finished all three slices of pizza.

Not so miraculously, he didn't keep them down.

"I ate too quickly," Eiji said as he leaned his forearms on the toilet seat.

Sing twisted his hair out of the way. "I'm sorry," Sing told him remorsefully. "I pushed you too hard."

Eiji hurled into the toilet bowl again.

"We should have started with one."

Eiji wiped his mouth with a handful of toilet paper. He tossed it into the water and flushed it.

"Can I make you something else?" Sing asked after a moment of quiet.

Eiji pulled away from the toilet and looked up at Sing with sad, exhausted eyes. He didn't want anything, but he was beyond the point of arguing. "Can I have some rice?"

Sing nodded. "Rice it is."

Eiji passed out on the couch, belly full of rice, by 9:30. He was cradled in the old, yellow and orange patchwork blanket, still wearing the clothes he'd worn to therapy.

Sing watched over him from the comfort of the armchair while the TV played softly in the background. Sing's eyes drifted to the picture of the blond on the wall. His stomach churned, though not from too much pizza.

Eiji was unraveling quickly. If he wasn't careful, he was worried they'd have a repeat of last year.

Or worse. God, how he feared something worse.

"Why'd you fuckin' leave us, Lynx?" Sing muttered to himself. He stared angrily at the photo on the wall. "Why'd you leave him?"

"Why don't you go to pilates today?" Sing asked as Eiji brewed coffee.

Eiji poured the water into the machine. "I have missed the past few weeks."

"Come on," Sing said cheerily, "They'd be happy to have you back." He was feeling more charitable today. He wasn't sure how long he would last, but he planned to refrain from scolding the other man today.

Eiji pressed start. "Then I'd have to explain why I was gone."

"Just say you've been busy."

"I haven't been."

"So?" He tried to smile casually. "They don't have to know that."

Eiji reached into the cabinet beside him and pulled out two coffee mugs. One was red with cartoon dalmatians running around the mug's center. Eiji's sister had bought it for him when she visited last. She said his dishes lacked character, so she bought him something fun. The other was an old, white mug with a chip in the lip. On the front, it read in time-worn paint: "I ️ New York." That one came from Him.

The rest of his mug collection, which wasn't very large, was filled with generic, cream-colored diner-style mugs decorated with two thin brown stripes upon the lip.

"I'm not very good at lying," Eiji told Sing.

He handed Sing the dalmatian mug.

"What happened to New York?" Sing asked, in reference to the mug.

Eiji frowned at the chip in it. "I dropped it."

Sing's brows drew close together. "But you're always so careful with it."

Eiji set it carefully on the counter. "I had too much to drink."

"You were drunk."

Eiji nodded and looked away from him. "Yeah, okay, I was drunk."

"You were doing so well for a while."

"No, I wasn't," Eiji said, staring at the coffee pot. "You're just seeing me now that I've stopped pretending."

"For a while, you were better. Better than this at least."

Eiji didn't argue, he knew Sing was right. Still, deep down, he never felt 'better.' "For a time it was easier."

"It will get easier again soon."

"You mean after Tuesday." It wasn't a question.

Sing nodded. "I mean after Tuesday. Maybe not right away, but it will."

Eiji's eyes lifted from the coffee pot and met Sing's. He gave Sing a sad, fake, sorry-excuse-for-a-smile. "It'll be year eight, I know how it goes."

"When you feel as shitty as you do, sometimes it's easy to forget things will get better again."

The coffee pot chirped. Eiji poured them each a mug of black coffee. He added milk to Sing's.

"It's a hard day for you, too," he said as he handed Sing the coffee.

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement. He sipped the warm, rich liquid. Eiji never skimped on coffee; Sing loved the expensive light roast he bought from the cafe across town.

"Do you miss him?" Eiji asked, referring to Lao.

"Every day." He sipped his coffee. "I miss them both."

Eiji sipped from the chipped New York mug.

"I'm sorry, I know you hate Lao, but I do still miss him."

"I do."

They sat in silence for a moment before Eiji started to move toward the living room. "Dr. Madison thinks I should try to forgive him." Eiji unlocked the balcony door. "But I don't think I ever can."

He opened the sliding door and stepped out onto the small, metal balcony complete with two small, metal chairs covered in snow and ice.

They stood there for a moment, without sitting. Sing wiped the snow off the chairs anyway, mindlessly.

"That's just therapist talk." Sing wiped the moisture onto his jeans. "You don't have to forgive him. I don't forgive him and he's my own blood."

"You don't forgive him?" Eiji asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

Sing looked at his friend. Not only had Lao killed someone he cared for, but he had also completely destroyed Eiji in the process. He looked at the busy street below. "Don't think I ever can."

Eiji's face turned tranquil as his eyes drifted to the traffic below them. "Thank you for that."

"You should never feel guilty about hating Lao," Sing responded, reading Eiji's mind. Shivering, he sipped his coffee. "Let's go inside, it's fucking freezing."

"You have to let me walk, Sing!"

"It's thirteen degrees outside, you don't get to walk."

"Buddy needs a walk!"

"I will walk him."

"You're killing me, if you don't let me walk!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Sing replied, rolling his eyes.

"Please! If I can't drink, you have to let me walk."

Sing stepped closer to Eiji, in an attempt to intimidate him. "I don't have to do anything." His plan to not argue hadn't lasted long. Not even an hour after breakfast, they were already shouting at one another.

Eiij's face turned grim. "I also don't have to let you stay here."

Sing gave a short, wild, sarcastic laugh. "Just try and make me leave."

Eiji's eyes narrowed. "It's my apartment," he threatened, "I could call the police."

"You won't."

"I might."

With his head, Sing gestured to the picture on the wall. "What would he say about that?"

Eiji's fierce face fell and he looked away from Sing. He didn't argue that He wasn't watching, for Eiji very much believed that He was. "At least let me walk with you," he said after a moment.

Sing grabbed Buddy's leash. "Fine."

Eiji bartered for an hour-long walk in exchange for Sing to do a 'secret favor' for him. Eiji knew he'd likely hate whatever it was. Still, he agreed.

"So what's this secret favor?" He asked, mockingly. Eiji untied his shoes and left them with his coat at the front door.

Sing did not move to remove his outer layers. "It involves me leaving for a bit." Sing held out a gloved hand. "Keys."

Eiji stared at his open palm for a moment before plunging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. "Fine."

Sing closed his hand around the keys and stuffed them in his coat pocket before Eiji could change his mind. "I'll be back in twenty minutes. Don't change the locks," he said sarcastically.

"Ha, ha."

"And please still be here when I get back," Sing added, more seriously.

"Don't bring anyone else with you," Eiji told him. "I am not up to visitors."

Sing nodded. "You got it." He turned to leave. "Later."

Over an hour had passed by the time Sing had returned.

Eiji was lying on the couch, the patchwork blanket was pulled up to his chin. Sing fumbled with the grocery bags he was holding. He left them at the door as he made his way, shoes still on, to sneak a glance at Eiji. His eyes focused on his side. Eiji breathed in, then out. Sing relaxed. He tiptoed back to the door, being extra quiet now, so as not to wake Eiji.

As quietly as humanly possible, Sing cleaned out the fridge. He threw away the remainder of the rotting food and gave the shelves a quick clean. He then began to fill the empty space with fresh food. He hadn't skimped on groceries, purchasing fresh fruits and vegetables, quality cuts of meat, and even fresh salmon. Now, he just needed to get it all inside the fridge.

"You were gone way longer than twenty minutes," Eiji said groggily from the couch. He was sitting, his blanket draped around his shoulders, with his hair all a mess and bags under his eyes. He watched as Sing finished putting away the groceries.

"Thanks for shopping for me, Sing. Gee, no problem, Eiji, I am always happy to help you out," Sing mocked.

Eiji flopped back to the couch. "I never asked for help."

"I know."

Sing continued fitting food into the fridge like he was doing a jigsaw puzzle. He moved things around noisily now, not because Eiji was awake, but because he was irritated.

"You didn't have to lie about how long you would take," Eiji said from the couch, head facing the ceiling. "I wasn't going to kill myself while you were out."

Sing dropped a bag of apples he was wrestling into the fridge. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

Eiji sat again. "Aren't you going to say you know?"

Sing fit the apples into the fridge on the second try. "I don't know."

Eiji glared at him from across the room.

"I still remember last year, ya know."

"Last year was a mistake," Eiji spat. "How many times do I have to—"

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Sing turned away from the fridge. He crawled across the kitchen floor until he could see where Eiji sat on the couch. "Did you forget that I'm the one who found you that night?"

Eiji averted his eyes from Sing's. "I wasn't trying to kill myself."

Sing huffed. "Maybe you've lied for so long you're starting to believe that's true."

"Oh, fuck you," Eiji muttered.

Sing stood, clutching a bottle of soy sauce. "Fuck me? Fuck me? I'm the one who found you," he pointed the bottle to his chest, "Passed out in your own vomit, shaking and pale. I'm the one who got ya to come to and you couldn't even tell me your name! I'm the one who called an ambulance. I'm the one who rode with you to the ER and didn't leave your side until they made me. I'm the one who was there for you in the hospital and after. And still, I'm the one you just keep pushing away. And still, ya have the nerve to lie to me and say it was an accident when we both know it wasn't! Fuck me? No. No, no, no, fuck you." Silent tears streamed down Sing's cheeks.

Eiji sat speechless.

Sing huffed angrily and returned to the fridge. He emptied the contents of the last grocery bag onto the floor and finished putting everything away.

"I didn't start drinking that night with the intention of dying," Eiji said at last.

Sing closed the now-stocked fridge. He stayed silent where he sat on the kitchen floor.

"That's the truth." He paused. "But there was a point… when I realized I was really drunk, but I still had some wits about me. I was so disgusted with myself and I was just… in so much pain that I— I don't know, it just seemed like an easy way out."

"For sleeping with that guy?"

Eiji was quiet for a long time.

The sound of Buddy grooming his fur was the only thing that filled the tense air.

"I still hate myself because of it," Eiji said finally.

"He would have wanted you to move on."

Eiji shook his head. "Everyone keeps telling me that. That's why I tried," he sighed, "And it almost killed me."

Sing didn't say anything for a long minute. "I'm sorry, Eiji."

"For what?"

"I'm sorry living is so hard for you."

Strangely, Eiji smiled a small, sad smile. "Sing?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for sticking around… even though I'm such a dick."

Sing stood and joined Eiji on the couch. Without a word, he pulled Eiji's blanket-wrapped self into his side.

"I'm sorry too," Eiji said. He sniffed, nose running from quiet tears.

"You'll have to be more specific," Sing answered, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There was a dreadful pause before Eiji said, "For not being able to love you the way you love me."

Sing released a long, hissing exhale. "We're not supposed to say that bit out loud."

Eiji lay stiff at his side, tears seeped from his closed eyes. "I know," he whispered.

It went unsaid that that was the reason Eiji pushed Sing away. Sing knew. Eiji knew Sing knew. Neither of them had to acknowledge it.

"But… thank you," Sing added quietly.

"You deserve to move on, too."

Sing said nothing, but Eiji could feel his shoulders shaking with tears.

Don't leave me like he left you, Sing wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to voice those words.

Reruns of Seinfeld played in the background as Sing and Eiji settled onto the couch. Sing handed Eiji a bowl of homemade Japanese curry.

"Eat."

Eiji poked at it with a pair of chopsticks. "Smells good." He tried it. "Tastes good too." He forced a smile. "Like Mom used to make."

Sing snatched the remote and turned up the volume. "You don't have to force yourself to be nice to me."

But Eiji had voiced what they both knew yet never said: Sing loved Eiji. And now that it was out in the open, even though they'd both known it for some time, he felt the need to be nicer to him.

Eiji shook his head. He shoveled rice and curry into his mouth. "Thanks for shopping," he said, finally. "I'll pay you back."

Sing shook his head. "It's fine, Eiji."

"No, really, I want to."

"Seriously, don't worry about it."

"But I want to."

"I said don't worry about it."

Eiji smiled softly into his food. "We could go around in circles all day."

There was a lull.

"They finally had pickled red onions again," Sing said.

"I saw that."

"I know you love those things." He plopped a piece of mushroom into his mouth. "Thought I'd use 'em on Monday for fish tacos."

Eiji's face grew sad.

Sing felt his demeanor change. "I didn't mean it like…" his voice trailed off.

"Like pickled onions are an incentive to stay alive till Monday?"

Sing cringed. "Yeah."

"But didn't you kinda?"

Sing picked at his rice, letting it fall from his chopsticks instead of moving it to his mouth. "Sorry."

Eiji could feel anger boiling inside him. He picked up the ice water on the coffee table and chugged it. "We were doing a good job at being civil. I'm not gonna yell, even though you deserve it. But that hurts."

Sing sucked his lips inward so that his mouth was a tense line. He nodded. "Sorry."

Eiji nodded and focused his attention on the TV as if nothing had happened. "Elaine looks like a pilgrim in that skirt."

Sing couldn't help but smile. "The nineties were weird."

Eiji fell asleep on the couch soon after eating. He'd eaten half his food. Sing was satisfied with that. It was better than him overdoing it and throwing it back up.

Sing gently picked up their dishes and moved to the kitchen to clean up.

He washed the dishes by hand and quietly put them away.

His mind wandered as his hands went through the motions of washing, drying, and putting things in their place.

He thought about how much Eiji suffered, especially lately. He cursed himself for falling in love with him, though he had never tried to. He didn't even realize he loved him until that fateful day last year. The threat of Eiji's death awakened him to the reality of his feelings, but he was certain they'd been there long before that.

He finished the dishes and walked back into the living room, drying his hands on a dish towel as he walked. He stared at Eiji's sleeping form.

"Maybe I should move in here for a while. Someone's gotta look after you," he said to himself. He glanced up at the picture on the wall. He watched over them like the eyes of God. "That's probably what you'd want."

"Huh?" Eiji stirred into a seated position, glasses askew. "What?"

Sing's eyes left the green ones on the wall. "Sorry. Talking to myself."

"Oh," he flopped backward and closed his eyes.

Sing stared at him silently for a moment. "Think you could migrate to your room so I can take the couch?"

"You're staying again?" Eiji asked, eyes still closed.

"At least until Tuesday."

"Mmmm."

Eiji made no effort to move.

"Eiji?"

"You can," he yawned, "Take my bed. I don't sleep in there much these days."

He stared at Eiji quizzically. "Cuz Green Eyes is in here?" He asked after a moment.

Eiji said nothing, but Sing knew he had guessed right. Sing lingered a moment more before pulling the patchwork blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Eiji.

"G'night, Eiji."

"Night."

Eiji's room was cold and immaculately clean. Sing got the impression the perfectly made bed hadn't been slept in for weeks. He wondered briefly when the sheets were last cleaned, though it wasn't like they had any chance of being soiled from sex. He knew, for a fact, that Eiji hadn't slept with anyone since the man last year.

Goosebumps rose on his skin. His eyes found the heat vent that had been pulled shut. "He really doesn't come in here much," he muttered to himself as he kicked it open. The vent opened loudly with a bang; hot air began to pour into the room.

He pulled back the blanket and climbed into bed. His nose was bombarded with the smell of laundry detergent. Clean after all. Part of him wished they weren't. He rolled onto his side, forcefully tugging the blanket around himself, and tried to shake such thoughts from his mind.

"Sheets are clean!" Eiji called from the other room, as if reading his mind.

Sing smiled sadly. "Thanks," he replied in a voice too quiet for Eiji to hear.