Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"So, after a few months, how has it been living with Sasaki-san?" Nishimori asks.

Tsunehiro shivers where he's standing and finishes hanging up his work uniform in the locker. He wishes she could have asked before he was in earshot, but considering the fact he only got off his shift a few minutes ago, it was probably intentional.

Tsunehiro looks back at Tsutsujimori, whose face is already flushed red with alcohol. It looks like he's been putting his off-time to good use—he got off work a few hours earlier than Tsunehiro today, but he's been hanging around the back of Everymart so that they can walk back home together later. Or, well, that's what he said, but Tsunehiro bets the real reason is that he wanted to hang out and drink.

Tsunehiro shuts the door and stands by the locker, waiting for Tsutsujimori to answer. He wants to go join their table, but now that they’re talking about him, it feels like it’d be a little awkward.

"Hiro, huh..." Tsutsujimori says, and looks back at him. Tsunehiro's shoulders jump up a little when their eyes meet. "What are you standing around for, come over here!" he says, and dramatically pats the seat cushion next to him. "Arua grilled yesterday's trout, it's really good."

Tsunehiro breathes a small sigh of relief and walks over to sit down carefully on the cushion. The cat, which has been sitting purring on Tsutsujimori's lap, meows at him when he comes near but he ignores it to pick up a pair of chopsticks and reaches for a piece of trout.

"So? How is it?" Ayukawa prods Tsutsujimorii, and Tsunehiro leans away. He doesn't really want to know what Tsutsujimori thinks about him. He's been trying his best to at least clean up after himself and do chores where he can, but considering the fact that Tsutsujimori is paying the rent and shouldering his debt, anything he does is barely even taking the edge off of everything he owes him. They’re probably the most unequal roommates in the world.

At least, he figures, it was Tsutsujimori’s choice to let him in, and there’s nothing he can really do about it, anyways, so he’s been trying not to think about it.

Tsutsujimori grins smugly, petting the cat on his lap. "Well," he sing-songs, "I've always wanted a pet cat, but I've been holding back because, y'know, I wasn't sure if I could handle the responsibility." He takes another swig of beer and holds the can out, as if giving cheers to the ceiling. "But now that I've finally made the decision, I've got to say, it was really worth it."

"She was asking about me, not the cat. And the cat’s not even yours," Tsunehiro retorts, while breathing an internal sigh of relief. Looks like he's too drunk to say anything serious. He takes a bite of the fish. It is really good.

Ayukawa beams as she reaches for another piece of trout. "So it's going well, huh?"

Tsunehiro scowls. Was she even listening?

"Yeah, well, it's really soothing to come back home to a roommate this cute." He's still petting the cat, but he turns his head to look at Tsunehiro. Tsunehiro looks away.

Nishimori's eyes sparkle at that, and she leans across the table to hold her arm out, like she's offering an imaginary microphone to him. "What do you mean, cute?” she asks. “Do you like him?"

"Yeah, I like him," he says, and puts an arm around Tsunehiro's shoulder, leaning into him like he’s just supposed to agree with this. Wow, he's really drunk.

"Get off me," Tsunehiro says, pushing him away, and Tsutsujimori lets himself be shoved off. "They’re gonna misunderstand if you keep saying stuff like that."

But in spite of Tsunehiro's efforts, Nishimori just sits up in her seat straighter, more excited. "Like, that kind of like?" she whispers, and then holds out the air mic to Tsutsujimori again.

"Mm-hmm," Tsutsujimori agrees easily, and then reaches for another bite of fish.

Tsunehiro stares at him blankly. Uh, what? Does he even realize what he's saying? He isn't acting like he just confessed, just nibbling on the trout, carefree, so… yeah, there's no way he's being serious. People say stupid stuff when they're drunk.

Ayukawa sighs, wrinkling her nose. "You have really weird taste in men, Takaaki," she says, and bites into another piece of fish. "Mmm, this is so good!"

Tsunehiro looks at her weirdly. Why is she acting like this is normal, like getting crushes on other guys is just a regular thing for Tsutsujimori? And like it makes sense for him to get a crush on Tsunehiro?

"I don't think it's that weird," Tsutsujimori protests, not denying that he has taste in men or that he likes Tsunehiro.

No way. He’s not serious, is he?

He can’t even begin to fathom why or how someone like Tsutsujimori would, of all people, like someone like Tsunehiro. Tsutsujimori is outgoing, confident, handsome, popular, generous, and kind, and Tsunehiro is exactly none of that. He's awkward and pathetic and insecure and his hair never gets into place and he has no sense of neither fashion nor social skills. He’s the dictionary definition of a loser—but no, wait? Maybe that's just something that appeals to gay people? It isn’t like he would understand.

Tsunehiro knows he’s not popular with girls in the slightest, but he’s never thought about how he would be with guys. Now that he thinks about it, dull, timid, plain-looking, black-haired guys get featured on the covers of BL manga all the time. Maybe it’s just a thing.

Hmm. He looks at Tsutsujimori, who just smiles back at him, and then looks away. It doesn’t make any sense. But maybe that’s it. Maybe Tsunehiro was just fortunate enough to be his type.

Ah, so that's why he's letting me stay, he realizes. It feels like a missing puzzle piece has slotted into place. Relief washes over him, now that he's put a reason to it, because it made him feel weird and restless to be treated so endlessly nicely for no discernible reason.

"Tsunehiro. Tsunehiro? Wow, you're really zoning out. Hey!"

Tsunehiro snaps back to awareness and realizes that Ayukawa is leaning across the table, waving her hand wildly in front of his face.

He leans back slightly. "What is it?"

"I said, so what about you, Tsunehiro?"

"H-huh?" Tsunehiro splutters. Is she asking if he likes him back? She has no sense of delicacy, but yeah, of course she doesn't. She only cares about fishing. He eyes Tsutsujimori, but he doesn't even look all that interested in his answer, now holding the disgruntled cat up to his eye level and nuzzling its nose.

"How's it been living with Takaaki?" Ayukawa asks slowly, as if he's stupid.

Oh, that. Tsunehiro relaxes a little. He can answer that. "Good. He's really considerate, and he’s always concerned about my health and making sure I eat meals and checking in whenever I get back late from stuff. Like what, is he my mother?” Feeling kind of embarrassed, his voice gets quieter. “But, uh, he's always caring for me and it's, uh, really more than I deserve..."

Nishimori is nodding enthusiastically to his words, and Ayukawa seems somewhat smug for whatever reason. He can't even bear to look at Tsutsujimori and see his reaction.

"Plus, the stuffed animals are cute," he mumbles, trying to divert from his embarrassment.

Tsutsujimori perks up at that. "Right?" he says proudly.Tsunehiro sneaks a look at him. His face is flushed, childishly happy. It's almost cute—no, no, no, that isn't the right word, it just came to his mind because he was thinking about the stuffed animals.

Tsunehiro averts his eyes to the table and lands on the half-empty can of beer Tsutsujimori's been drinking. Maybe some alcohol would be a good idea now. He doesn't like drinking that much, but if he drinks just a little, he could say he forgot everything tomorrow. No point in making Tsutsujimori suffer if he gets embarrassed when he sobers up.

"Uh," Tsunehiro says, "could I have one of those?"

Tsutsujimori tilts his head. "Sure," he says, sounding a little confused, and hands Tsunehiro one of the empty cans. Tsunehiro accepts it. There's still a little liquid left in it, but Tsunehiro would feel to embarrassed to drink from something that's touched his mouth right after what he's said, and this much wouldn't be enough to feign memory loss off, anyways.

Ayukawa laughs. "What's he gonna do with that?" she cackles. "He means a new can, a new one!"

Tsutsujimori blinks, looking as if he’s genuinely surprised. "Is that true, Hiro?" he says, turning his head to stare at him. God, he's loopy. Tsunehiro nods jerkily.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you drink," Tsutsujimori says. He would have had plenty of opportunity to, considering Tsutsujimori is pretty open to sharing whatever's in his fridge, but Tsunehiro never felt like taking him up on the offer before. "Have you ever drunk before? Are you gonna be okay?"

He sounds genuinely concerned, even though he's already on his third can of beer. It's kinda demeaning. Tsunehiro scowls at him. "A couple of times."

He’s found that he mostly just gets gloomy when he’s drunk. Honestly, he’s a little jealous of people like Tsutsujimori who actually have fun drinking, but he supposes that’s just who he is. He’s scared of finding out what would happen if he got even more drunk, of having all his ugly insecurities and resentment bubble up. But he's not gonna drink much today.

"Well, they're in the fridge if you really want one," Tsutsujimori says, waving a hand across the room in the opposite direction of where the fridge actually is.

Tsunehiro stands up to get a can of Premium Oinari from the fridge, and by the time he gets back to the table, the conversation has already changed to fishing. Ayukawa is gesturing excitedly, making stabby motions with her chopsticks, and Nishimori is watching her with wide eyes, enchanted. It’s honestly beyond him why Nishimori is so infatuated with Ayukawa, but he thinks he’s starting to notice a trend: gay people just have really weird taste. No, that’s kinda rude.

He opens the can and takes his first sip. It tastes just as bad as he remembers. He tries not to wince, but he must not have hidden it well enough because Tsutsujimori leans over to ruffle his hair and says, "Take it easy."

"I'm fine," Tsunehiro says, and takes another gulp. It burns unpleasantly in his throat, and he tries to remember how long it's supposed to take or how much he's supposed to drink before he starts feeling it. Well, whatever.

He tries to listen to Ayukawa's rambling. Tsutsujimori and Nishimori seem to be keeping up, following up with appropriate fishing comments, but Tsunehiro's too tired to try parsing and understanding her rambling peppered with unfamiliar words that he's only heard in passing and doesn't really understand.

Small sips, he decides, and continues nursing the beer. His eyes follow whoever is talking, even though he's not keeping up with their conversation, but as time passes, he starts staring mostly at Tsutsujimori, thinking back to what he said.

Even if it was true, if Tsutsujimori really liked him, and that was why he took him in, he knows he doesn't have any impure intentions, because Tsutsujimori isn't that kind of person. He knows he would never pressure him into doing anything like that—until now, he didn't even let it show that he liked Tsunehiro in that way, at all.

Feeling kinda tired, Tsunehiro pushes his can out of the way and lies his head down on the table, giving him a good view of the empty cans Tsutsujimori drank from. Sleepiness weighs his eyes closed, and it washes out the other three’s conversation around him.

He’s never really given a thought to his roommate’s romantic inclinations. He’s never mentioned a significant other, and he’s never brought anyone home. But come to think of it, what if that’s just because Tsunehiro living at his apartment would make it awkward?

It doesn’t make a difference to Tsunehiro because he’s been single and a virgin his whole life, but for Tsutsujimori, is he being deprived the chance to fulfill his… needs, of that sort? He supposes whoever he hooks up with, they could just go to the other person's place, but wouldn't it be awkward to have to explain why his place was occupied? Or, well, no, Tsutsujimori is so charming that Tsunehiro doubts he would have any problems. But, still…

If he is feeling pent up, and he does like Tsunehiro like that, then, he realizes, there would be a very, very easy way to help him out. There's very little merit to him giving shelter and help to a man who's going to die in a couple of years, even less if Tsunehiro doesn't manage to pay the full debt off before he kicks the bucket, but if he reciprocates, at least he could pay him back a little before he goes.

Tsunehiro opens his eyes again from where he's lying down on the table, looking up at Tsutsujimori, watching his lips move as he talks about more fishing, or something. He tries to imagine it. It wouldn't be that bad to kiss him, if that's what he wants. He must be experienced, so he would be good at it, wouldn't he? And Tsunehiro doesn't really get how sex between two guys works, but if he just has to be passive and Tsutsujimori leads him, maybe he could do it. It's Tsutsujimori, so of course he would be gentle with him. At least Tsunehiro wouldn't die a virgin.

The more he thinks about it, the more he feels his face heat up. He shifts his head the other way so he's staring at the sink, away from Tsutsujimori, and he closes his eyes again.

"Hey. Hiro. Hiro. You awake?"

Tsunehiro opens his eyes to realize that Tsutsujimori is shaking his shoulders. "Mm," he says non-committedly and muffles a yawn in the crook of his elbow.

He rubs his eyes blearily and looks around. Ayukawa and Nishimori have already left the room, and Machida is sitting in the corner of the room typing away... something. He doesn't even think he finished his can of beer, but the table is already clear, dishes cleaned away and beer cans out of sight.

"You ready to go back home?" Tsutsujimori asks, and reaches a hand out to help Tsunehiro climb to his feet. He finds it weird that Tsutsujimori is the more responsible one, even though he's drank way more.

Ugh. Why is he still so tired after sleeping for so long? Tsunehiro yawns again, trying to fight the grogginess, but he ends up leaning on Tsutsujimori on the way back home.

When they get inside his apartment, Tsunehiro walks inside and Tsutsujimori locks the door behind them.

Tsunehiro swallows. If he’s going to do anything about it, it has to be now. He can still pretend he forgot everything if it goes wrong.

"H-hey," he says, wincing as he hears his voice crack, "what you said back there. Um, do you, uh, really like me like that?"

Tsutsujimori sets the keys on the dresser by the door and yawns. "Yeah," he says, nonchalantly.

Tsunehiro frowns a little. This is technically a confession, right? But he's not treating it like one, at all. Shouldn't he be more nervous, or something? Or at least slightly more concerned about Tsunehiro's reaction.

Tsutsujimori walks into the back of the apartment and sits down on his bed, where he reaches his arms up and stretches to the sides. Tsunehiro just watches him bewilderedly before following him to his bedroom. He takes the tatami from where it is next to the shelf, just so he has something to do, and asks, "So, uh, do you have anything to ask me?"

Tsutsujimori stops his stretches. "No?" he says.

Tsunehiro looks down at the tatami he's carrying. If only he would ask if Tsunehiro likes him back, or just ask him out, like normal, then he would be able to say yes and pay him back.

But if he's being this obtuse about it, maybe he actually doesn't like him that way. He misunderstood and thought Nishimori might like him, when they first met, so maybe this is just the same thing happening again, but no, Tsutsujimori pretty clearly said 'like.' And Ayukawa and Nishimori clearly thought he meant the same thing, too.

He tries to check again. "By that kind of like, uh, you mean the kind where you wanna, like, k-kiss and stuff, right?"

He's dying of embarrassment. Somebody kill him. He averts his eyes and starts unfolding the tatami so that he doesn't have to look at Tsutsujimori.

But Tsutsujimori just says, "Yeah, but don’t worry about it."

Ugh, he's not getting anywhere. Why can't he just make it easier for him?

"Then, uh, uh," Tsunehiro says, but he doesn't know what to say. He's trying to reciprocate, but Tsutsujimori is making it really hard for him. What is he supposed to say? Does he pretend he likes him back? Should he be honest about it and say he's fine with getting in a kind of friends with benefits situation with him? Why does this have to be so embarrassing? If Tsutsujimori would just ask him, he could answer easily, but to have to bring it up himself...

Screw this, he’s done thinking. He puts his tatami down, stands up, and faces Tsutsujimori, who's still sitting on the side of his bed.

"Tsutsujimori," he says, to get his attention, but his voice sounds squeaky and half-terrified.

"Hiro?" Tsutsujimori says, looking back at him concerned. "Is something—"

Tsunehiro gathers all of his resolve and leans over to kiss him. Their noses bump into each other a little with his initial force but he adjusts. Tsutsujimori's lips are soft, and he still smells like beer, and wow this is kind of an awkward position to be standing in, just leaning over when Tsutsujimori's still sitting down in bed, but if Tsutsujimori was standing up he wouldn't even be able to reach him anyways. He puts his hands on Tsutsujimori's shoulders to steady himself, but he doesn't know what to do after that.

It's not an unpleasant sensation, to just have their lips pressed together but isn't there supposed to be more to it than this? It's not like Tsunehiro's ever kissed anyone before. He thinks there's supposed to be tongue involved, but how? Wouldn't Tsutsujimori be grossed out by that, or come to think of it, Tsutsujimori hasn't been moving, or reciprocating, like, at all, and—

Tsutsujimori interrupts him, turning his face aside and pushing him away gently but firmly. His face is pretty red, although Tsunehiro can't tell if it's any redder than it usually is when he's drunk, and he wipes his face with the back of his sleeve.

Tsunehiro's heart sinks in his stomach. Fuck. He screwed up, didn't he? He misunderstood, and overstepped, and now he made Tsutsujimori uncomfortable, even though he was just trying to make him happy. Maybe he should pretend he forgot everything tomorrow.

"Man, Hiro, I didn't know you were such a lightweight," Tsutsujimori says, but his voice sounds off somehow. "Didn't you only have, like, half a can of beer?"

"I-I thought you said you liked me," Tsunehiro mumbles, making excuses.

Tsutsujimori runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry," he says, half-grimacing, and burying his head in his hands. "I wasn't planning on ever telling you, 'cause I thought it might be unfair, what with you being kinda dependent and in debt to me and everything. I didn’t know you’d actually, you know, try anything, though, or else I would’ve tried to be more careful. Y'know, I'm not just letting you stay here because I want to get in your pants, okay?"

He flicks Tsunehiro in the forehead, and Tsunehiro winces.

"You don't have to do anything for me except focus on paying back that debt. You got it?"

Tsunehiro rubs his forehead, patting down his bangs. "I know that," he mumbles. Tsutsujimori's too nice to do that. But that's why he wants to do something back for him. And this would be so easy. He has no idea if he'll pay off the rest of his debt before he passes, but this, at least, would be certain. "You, you're not pressuring me," he insists. "I want to do this."

Tsutsujimori sighs. "You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying!" Tsunehiro insists again. Why can he tell that he's lying? Sure, he might not like him in that way, but he does really, really like him. Is none of that getting across?

He kneels in front of him, putting his head to the floor so that he won’t have to look him in the eyes. "I'm really, really grateful to you, Tsutsujimori. If I didn't meet you, I'd probably be—" Dead, but he doesn't need to say that. "It’s thanks to you that I still have a place to live, and that I’m not on the run from the debt collectors, and that I have a job and that I found people I can have fun hanging out with. I still don’t get why you would be so nice to someone you just met, but I’m grateful for it.”

Tsutsujimori doesn’t say anything. Tsunehiro keeps his eyes screwed shut, forehead still pressed to the ground.

“And you’re always so generous and considerate, and you’re always taking care of me. You give me advice with fishing, and you always make sure I’m included in the group without making a big deal of it. At first I thought you were kinda pushy and annoying, like how you immediately started calling me ‘Hiro,’ but now that I’m used to it, it’s honestly kinda nice.”

"No one, no one's ever been this nice to me," Tsunehiro says. "I don't get it." Embarrassingly, he realizes his eyes are starting to dampen, and he quickly wipes them with his sleeve.

He waits for Tsutsujimori to say something, but there’s just silence. Eventually, he slowly raises his head to see him shocked still, face completely flushed red. When Tsutsujimori sees his eyes on him, he opens his mouth, closes it, and then, finally, says, "You know, if that’s how you feel, you don't have to be so distant. You can just call me Takaaki."

"Takaaki," Tsunehiro repeats.

Tsutsujimori—Takaaki runs a hand through his hair, still looking embarrassed. "Okay, I got it," he says, "you really like me, huh?" He puts his hand down and sighs. "But still, it's not that kind of like, is it?"

Tsunehiro averts his eyes downwards, pretending to focus on wiping his eyes dry. "It is," he insists.

“Haven’t you been crushing on Kozue-chan lately?” he asks.

He noticed that, huh. Tsunehiro fumbles for an excuse. “Sure, at the start I did, but she likes Ayukawa, anyways.”

Takaaki puts a hand on his shoulder, and Tsunehiro looks back up at him. He gives him a knowing smile. "It's okay, you don't have to force yourself." He stands up and rolls his shoulders to stretch them. "You're not the first straight guy I've fallen for. It'll pass eventually, so don't worry, you don't have to do anything."

Tsunehiro averts his eyes. Even so, even if he is okay with letting it pass, even if he’s used to it, it's still painful, though, right? Tsunehiro has had a lot of fruitless crushes throughout his years, mostly just on the popular pretty girls that he hardly even exchanged words with, but it still hurt to look at them and know they were forever out of his reach.

"I'm going to take a bath first and then go to bed," Takaaki tells him. "You cool your head down and then tomorrow we can pretend like none of this happened, alright?" He pats Tsunehiro’s shoulder in assurance.

Tsunehiro opens his mouth to protest, but Takaaki has already stood up to leave. Tsunehiro watches him walk away, and touches his shoulder, where Takaaki grabbed him. It feels cold without the warmth of his hand.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Tsutsujimori greets him the next morning as if nothing happened. He just goes on to make breakfast, humming while he makes it and not paying Tsunehiro much more attention.

Tsunehiro is still kinda groggy, just sitting under the blanket on his futon. As he remembers more and more what happened last night, he feels more and more embarrassed. He can’t believe he just kissed him that shamelessly, and then Tsutsujimori—Takaaki had to console him afterward, even though if anything it should have been the other way around.

After showering, he sits down at the table for breakfast. Takaaki is just eating like normal, watching a fishing video on his phone, angled so that Tsunehiro could watch, too, if he wanted to. He's acting like everything is normal, even though Tsunehiro is so embarrassed he can barely look him in the face.

Why does he seem so unaffected while Tsunehiro is still hung up over it? Isn't he the one who’s supposed to like him?

Tsunehiro rubs his fingers anxiously. Honestly, he would feel a lot better if they just did it. Takaaki was acting like kissing or whatever when Tsunehiro doesn't like him would be such a bad thing, but Tsunehiro doesn't think it would be that big of a deal. Better than just knowing Takaaki likes him and not being able to do anything about it.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Takaaki, gesturing with his chopsticks. "It's gonna get cold."

Tsunehiro blinks and pinches himself to try and snap himself out of it, and then drinks a little of the miso soup. "Thank you, Takaaki," he says, and watches to see if Takaaki reacts to the use of his given name, but he doesn't.

Tsunehiro keeps on eating breakfast slowly, but the taste barely registers on his tongue. How is Takaaki acting so normally? He takes another few bites and then sets his plate and chopsticks down.

"If you really like me,” Tsunehiro says, “then why don't you want to do anything with me?" He realizes belatedly that his tone of voice sounds somewhat accusatory, but he's just curious.

Takaaki sets down his chopsticks with a clink and sighs. "You're still gonna bring this up? Didn't we agree to forget about it?"

"You said that," Tsunehiro mumbles. "I didn't agree."

Takaaki presses his lips into a thin line. "Still,” he says, and laughs shortly. “Could you drop it? You don't have to keep torturing me."

"It's not like I'm trying to do that!" Tsunehiro says. "I'm just saying, I'd be okay kissing you if that's what you wanted. And, um, I'd even be willing to try, uh, h-having sex with you, if, uh—"

Takaaki almost chokes on his food. When he steadies himself, he looks again at Tsunehiro, his face kinda red. "You've really put a lot of thought into this, huh."

Tsunehiro nods stiffly, hoping that Takaaki will finally understand his resolve. "I have."

Takaaki sighs again, running a hand through his hair. "Hiro, the physical stuff isn't what matters most to me. I don’t just like you for your body. If you're just 'okay' with it, then I don't wanna do any of that with you."

Tsunehiro blinks.

"Uh, why?" he blurts out.

Takaaki furrows his eyebrows. "Why don't I want to force you into it?" he asks, and lets out a strangled laugh. "Wow, Hiro, you've been saying all these nice things about me, but is your opinion of me really that low—"

"Not that!" Tsunehiro insists, cutting him off before he can misunderstand more. "I mean, why do you like me, if it isn't for... I mean, it's not like I'm particularly physically attractive, but I figure everyone has their types, even if it doesn't make sense, so sure, maybe. But for my personality... there's like, nothing to like."

Takaaki’s expression softens.

"Honestly, I don't really get it, either," he says thoughtfully. "When I first met you, I thought you were reckless and irresponsible, and honestly kinda stupid."

Tsunehiro laughs a little. He can't really argue with that.

"But as I got to know you, I realized that you were more than that," Takaaki continues, earnestly, "Even though you weren't really interested in fishing, you still listened carefully when we taught you and tried to learn seriously. And you’ve been persistent in learning, both about fishing and for Everymart, even though a lot of other people would have quit by now. You’re much more earnest than I was expecting."

Tsunehiro shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. Listening carefully, studying, and learning persistently—those are all things that anyone can do. It doesn’t make him special. If Takaaki started liking him for reasons like that, he’s just deluding himself, getting baited.

"And, well, I've been living by myself for a while now, and I've gotten used to it, but living with you is much more fun. Sure, it can kinda be a pain sometimes, but it’s like having a stray cat. It feels good when you open up to me and I like having the company. I just can't leave you alone anymore."

So he likes him because they live together. It doesn't particularly matter that he’s Tsunehiro, just that he's here. If he picked up anyone else out of the water, he would’ve started liking them, instead. "Are you sure that's not, like, Stockholm Syndrome?"

Takaaki snorts. At least he’s being entertained by this. "Wouldn’t it be the other way around?” he says. “You're not the one keeping me here."

“I guess,” Tsunehiro mutters.

Takaaki looks at him gently. "Is it that hard to believe that I’d like you?" he asks.

Tsunehiro freezes up under his gaze. He looks so overwhelmingly kind, but with a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Tsunehiro feels uncomfortably warm, like his insides are melting. He’s never been faced with this kind of emotion before.

“You... actually like me," he realizes. As a person.

Takaaki could do so much better than him. He has the looks, and the charm, and he was actually popular enough to be the number one host of his club. Being liked by a person like that, it... doesn't feel too bad, actually, it’s rather kinda flattering, but—

Realization washes over him like cold water. If he actually likes him, Tsunehiro, as a person and not just as a charity project, then it's gonna be so, so much worse for him when he dies. To devote so much into a person and then lose them, that fast.

Tsunehiro’s fingers dig into the fabric of his pants. “Why?” he says.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before. He knows that Takaaki and everyone from Everymart are going to mourn his death. But he always figured that it wouldn’t be too bad, because at the most he was just a friendly coworker to them.

He didn’t want to think about it, but it’s catching up with him now how irresponsible he’s been. He’s been so preoccupied with finally having a community and being able to enjoy day-to-day life that he hasn’t stopped to fully consider how his death would impact them.

And if Takaaki likes him like that, that much, then it’s going to be so, so, so much worse for him.

Tsunehiro feels his breath start to quicken. He doesn’t want to do that to him. He should never have let him get close to him. If only he had properly died when he tried to hang himself, or if he drowned before Takaaki and the others could fish him out of the water.

“I just told you, didn’t I?” Takaaki says. His voice sounds distant. “Well, I guess it’s kinda like fishing. It’s hard to really explain. But—”

“Hiro? Are you okay?” Takaaki says. “You don’t look so good.”

Tsunehiro feels him put a hand on his shoulder and he snaps back to reality, coming face to face with Takaaki, whose eyes are full of concern. He feels sick. He pushes Takaaki’s hand away and clambers to his feet, rushed with dizziness like he’s gonna fall over.

“Stomachache,” he lies, and rushes to shut himself in the bathroom. Once inside, he collapses, sitting against the door, curling up on himself, trying to steady his breathing. He hears Takaaki’s voice dimly through the bathroom door, but he clamps his hands over his ears and tries not to pay attention.

For both of their sakes, he has to stop this.

Tsunehiro starts increasing his shifts. Machida is initially a little hesitant to give him as many shifts as he's asking, but he folds without much struggle after Tsunehiro digs his foot in.

His priority, he’s decided, is to move out quickly. After he pays back his debt, he can quit the job at Everymart and find a different one. That way, he can distance himself from Takaaki and everyone else, and they'll have time to stop caring about him before he dies—if he’s lucky, they won’t even notice when he’s gone.

He stops going with everyone on fishing excursions, either encouraging them to go during his shifts or claiming he's too tired. He tries to avoid eating dinner with Takaaki, trying to rush to eat before he gets back home or staying out so late that he doesn't need to.

He can tell that they're worried about him. Ayukawa seems flabbergasted that anyone could give up on fishing like that, Nishimori continues inviting him to hang out with them, Arua keeps offering him extra food, Ice takes over whenever he gets problematic customers on their shifts together, and Machida looks increasingly concerned whenever he prints out the week’s time schedule. Even Fujishiro has started giving him more unsolicited advice disguised in fishing metaphors.

And Takaaki, Takaaki looks concerned almost every time he looks at him. He invites him along to almost everything, from fishing trips to meals out to hangouts with his college friends, even though Tsunehiro refuses him every single time. He’s started waking up earlier so that they can eat breakfast together more often, he keeps on leaving prepared food in the fridge for him, and he’s started to get paranoid whenever Tsunehiro stays out later than expected. And, most tellingly, he’s stopped touching Tsunehiro, at all.

But their concern just shows precisely why he needs to distance himself from them. It might be painful now, but it’ll save them the grief later. He just wishes he could have realized and caught himself earlier.

"Hey, Hiro. We were planning on going to fish mackerel now, wanna join us?" Takaaki asks him one day after work. Ayukawa and Nishimori are with him, watching Tsunehiro expectantly.

Tsunehiro shakes his head. "I'm getting tired, I'm probably gonna go home and sleep."

"Okay, rest well," Takaaki says with false brightness, almost hiding his disappointment. He doesn't even have work today, there's no reason for him to be at Everymart, so he probably bothered meeting here just to invite him.

Ayukawa frowns visibly. "Really? Is that more important than fishing?"

Nishimori tugs on Ayukawa’s hand. “Sasaki-kun’s been very tired recently, we should let him be. Maybe he’ll come next time. Right, Sasaki-kun?”

"Right," Tsunehiro says emptily, and waves them off. "See you."

Once they're gone, Tsunehiro breathes a sigh of relief. It's not like he doesn't want to go. He does. But he needs to distance himself from them, and he does need the extra rest, too, now that he's working more. So it's better this way.

Once he gets back to Takaaki’s apartment, he collapses onto the couch. Setting the two little plushies gently on the floor, he hugs Kumanyan, squishing it, and then pulls out his phone to browse through fishing videos and social media.

He doesn't end up falling asleep by the time Takaaki comes back, still just scrolling on his phone, but Takaaki graciously doesn't comment on it.

Takaaki sets down the ice box. "I brought some mackerel back, you want any?"

"Ate earlier," Tsunehiro lies. He doesn't have the right to be treated this nicely by him.

"Tell me if you change your mind," Takaaki says, and sets the container down on the kitchen counter. He pulls out a cutting board and starts chopping the mackerel.

Tsunehiro goes back to ignoring him, looking back at his phone. He doesn't want to look at fishing videos when Takaaki is around, in case he sees his screen, so he switches to reading manga.

When Takaaki is done preparing his fish, he sits at the table, across from the couch. He looks at Tsunehiro as he eats the mackerel, and Tsunehiro pretends to not notice him staring. Finally, after a long hesitation, he asks, "Aren't you getting tired?"

Tsunehiro shifts a little from his position on the couch, hugging Kumanyan tight and burying his face in the back of its head. "I took a nap earlier," he lies, mumbling into its fur.

"No, I mean—” Takaaki pauses, choosing his words. “You're taking pretty long shifts every day of the week, and you're always too busy or too tired to go out fishing with us. Have you been doing okay?"

"Yeah," Tsunehiro says stiffly.

“Be honest,” Takaaki presses. “Have—have you been avoiding me?”

In all honesty, he’s surprised he didn’t ask about this earlier. Tsunehiro’s grip on his phone tightens. “I’m not.”

"Really?" Takaaki asks. "It's not because you feel uncomfortable around me?" He falters, biting his lip, and starts again. “Look, I’m really sorry. It was shitty of me to confess to you when you’re still dependent on me. But it doesn’t have to change anything for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tsunehiro says. He shouldn’t have to apologize for that.

Takaaki continues. “If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s okay. I’ll stop bothering you. But I don’t think it’s worth sacrificing your health and wellbeing to get out of here faster. There’s no rush. I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Tsunehiro says. He’s the one who practically forced himself onto Takaaki a few weeks ago. Although he can see how Takaaki would come to that conclusion, since Tsunehiro seemingly had a panic attack and started distancing himself right after Takaaki confessed to him. But maybe it's better that Takaaki thinks he's homophobic, so that he’ll stop liking him.

“Then what are you worried about?” Takaaki asks.

"Shouldn’t you be happy?” Tsunehiro mutters. “I'm earning money faster."

“Well, I'm glad you're being more proactive about it, and I know I told you I'd rather you focused on earning money, but I'm not in that much of a rush for you to pay me back. It's not worth you overworking yourself."

Tsunehiro scrolls down his phone, trying to read the manga faster and put Takaaki's words out of his mind, but he can barely even register what's happening to the characters.

"Maybe you don't care, but I’m in a rush," he says, and doesn't elaborate. He wishes Takaaki would stop prying. It's not like he wants to behave like this, but it's in Takaaki's best interest.

"And I’m asking you, why?" Takaaki says.

"I just don't wanna be a burden on you for much longer," Tsunehiro says.

He's saying something normal, but this only serves to make Takaaki look more worried. He doesn't seem that convinced.

"Yeah, but you didn't seem to care when you bought the Exceed. What's with the sudden change of heart?"

Tsunehiro tries to ignore him out of the corner of his eye, focusing on staring at the manga panel that he's not even registering anymore. "I just want to get out of here faster," he says quietly.

Takaaki's face crumples a little. "Oh," he says quietly. “Okay.” He puts a piece of fish in his mouth and chews as he thinks. He can almost mask the hurt in his voice. "Well, once you're close to paying your debt back, I can help you go apartment hunting."

Tsunehiro shakes his head. "It's fine."

Why, why does he have to even be nice about this? But it only goes to show, if Takaaki is left to his own devices, he'll just give, give, give and let Tsunehiro drain him empty, and then he won't get anything back when Tsunehiro dies.

Chapter Text

"Sasaki-kun, do you mind if we talk a little?" Nishimori asks, leaning up close to him.

Tsunehiro averts his eyes out of instinctual embarrassment. When they first started talking to each other, Tsunehiro was foolish enough to think that they had chemistry, but now that he's seen her interact with other people, he's learned that she's just that up close and personal with everyone, except for Ayukawa, who she's somehow even more touchy-feely with.

"Y-yeah? What is it?" he says. He just ended a long shift, so he honestly just wants to go back home and crash out, but he rubs his eyes and tries to pretend he's not falling asleep.

"Why don't you go fishing that often anymore?" she asks. "Hana-chan has been worried about you recently. She keeps wondering how it could be possible for someone to get bored of fishing."

Of course she mentions Ayukawa. Of course she's just worried about him because of Ayukawa. Checks out. Now that he’s found out, he can’t believe he didn’t realize Nishimori liked her from the beginning. Maybe he's just dense—to be fair, he had no idea about Takaaki, either.

"I just don't have the time," he says. It's not like he's completely lying, he is busy with work.

Nishimori tilts her head. "Really? But don't you like fishing?"

Does he? That's a great question. It's complicated. He wonders if he seems like he likes it.

There are parts of it he hates, and parts of it he enjoys. At first, the sheer volume of information to be learned was intimidating, but the more he learns the more interesting it gets. He enjoys the variety of fish and the complexity of different equipment and techniques there are to catch them, and he likes the sense of thrill when a fish bites and the accomplishment when he actually catches something. And more than anything, he likes spending time with everyone on the car ride back and cooking their catches together.

"Well, I don't hate it," he says.

Nishimori leans in closer to him. "Well, if you like it, I think you should find more time for it, even if it’s hard. Life's more fun that way."

Tsunehiro looks away from her. He still gets flustered when she gets close to him, even though he knows she only has eyes for Ayukawa. He can't help it.

"I would if I could, but it’s not that simple,” he says. “I need to make money and pay Takaaki back."

Nishimori tilts her head at him. "Why?" she asks, still super close. Why does she have no sense of personal space?

"So I can move out," Tsunehiro says plainly.

"And why do you want that?" Nishimori asks again.

Tsunehiro furrows his eyebrows. "I mean, it's not like I can stay there forever," he says, folding his arms awkwardly.

"But something must have changed recently, for you to start acting different," Nishimori reasons. "Did you get into an argument recently?" she asks, her eyes sparkling, and looks up at him. Tsunehiro really doesn’t understand her obsession with drama.

Tsunehiro shakes his head. It wasn't that dramatic, or anything. "No, that's not it."

She tilts her head. "Then, why do you need to move out soon?"

Tsunehiro steps back from her slowly, trying to put a little more distance in between them. "I just don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Hmm," Nishimori says noncommittedly, pondering it. Her eyes glaze over, the same dead stare as when she was tearing apart worms to use as bait. "Are you avoiding him because he confessed to you?” she asks.

Tsunehiro shivers uncontrollably. "No, that’s not it!"

“Okay,” Nishimori nods to herself, her expression returning to normal. "But don’t you like living with him?"

Tsunehiro stares at his shoes. Her curiosity is probably part of what flustered him so much when they first met, but now he’s starting to curse it. He wishes she would just leave him alone. "No, I like living with him," he says. "It’s cozy. He’s nice. Honestly, I'd be happy living with him for the rest of my life. But that's not what matters."

Nishimori stays quiet, shocked into silence. Tsunehiro looks away from his shoes back up at her, thinking maybe they’re done talking and he can go home to sleep now, but before he can try to end the conversation, she taps her chin and says, “That’s a little like how I feel about Hana-chan.”

Of course the conversation goes back to Ayukawa. Tsunehiro stares at her blankly.

"I like how she smiles at me when I catch something, and I like when we cook the fish together afterward, and I like hanging out with her, and just chatting, and I like when she lets me stay over and sleep in her bed after work so we can go fish in the morning and walk to school together. Even though I don’t like fishing, or studying, or doing homework that much, I can enjoy anything when we’re spending time together. Even if we never become girlfriends, I want to be the person she spends the most time with. I want to be with her for the rest of my life."

"Uh... huh..." Tsunehiro says slowly, fighting a yawn as the day’s fatigue starts to catch up with him. As someone who did crush on Nishimori for at least a good week, he doesn’t really want to hear this.

Nishimori looks him in the eye, and Tsunehiro tries not to look away awkwardly. "Sasaki-kun,” she says seriously, “are you sure you don't like Takaaki?"

"I’m straight," Tsunehiro says reflexively. He likes cute girls, like Nishimori, not boys like Takaaki who stand over a head taller than him and keep on using him as a shoulder rest. In all his 21 years of existence, he’s never fallen for a guy before. “I can’t.”

Nishimori doesn’t look like she believes him, tilting her head doubtfully. "Are you sure?" she asks. "You want to be with him forever, right? For the rest of your life?"

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says. He did say that he'd want to stay with him for the rest of his life, but for him, that statement is much more light. The rest of his life is nowhere near forever. But he can't explain that without coming clean about his diagnosis.

Nishimori nods to herself knowingly and smiles at him. "Think over it, okay? Life is much more fun when you're honest about what you like."

She waves him off, and Tsunehiro starts to head back home. She doesn't know what she's talking about. She’s gay and she loves drama, so she's probably just projecting what she wants to happen onto him. But Tsunehiro’s never liked a guy before, and he doesn’t think it’s just going to suddenly start now.

He keeps thinking it on the way home. Takaaki isn’t there when he gets back, he finds with a little relief. He’s so tired he could just collapse where he is, but he doesn’t want to end the day thinking about this, so he takes a can of barley tea from the fridge and sits down at the table. He’ll just watch a few cat videos before he goes to sleep.

"Hiro. Hiro. Hiro, are you okay?"

Tsunehiro blinks his eyes open and looks up. Takaaki is shaking him by the shoulders, looking concerned, but his face lights up with relief when he notices that Tsunehiro is awake.

"Huh...?" Tsunehiro looks around a little. Where is he? It looks like he fell asleep on the floor, without ever going to bed.

"Are you okay?" Takaaki asks urgently. Why does he sound so scared?

"Huh?" Tsunehiro says groggily. "Uh, yeah. I was just sleeping." He rubs his eyes. He has a crick in his neck now from sleeping on the floor. Ouch.

Takaaki exhales. "Jeez, Hiro, don't scare me like that. I thought you collapsed or something. Why were you sleeping on the floor? The bedroom is right there."

"Sorry," Tsunehiro says awkwardly. "I just fell asleep..."

He looks over at the table and sees that the can is knocked over on the table, spilt over. He realizes belatedly that his shirt is soaked, too. Uh oh. He hopes it didn't damage the wood.

"Sorry, I'll clean up," he apologizes. He stands up, and is immediately knocked with a wave of dizziness from the blood rushing to his head. He makes a staggered step toward the kitchen to get cleaning supplies, but Takaaki grabs him by the wrist.

"It's okay," he says, "I'll take care of it. You just go shower and change your clothes."

Tsunehiro nods mutely and goes to pick out clean clothes and shower, still feeling groggy.

The shower water is refreshing, helping to soothe his neck pain and make him feel a little more awake. Man, he's gotta get his act together. Of course Takaaki is gonna worry about him if he's too tired to walk a couple steps to the bedroom and lay out his tatami mat.

He dries himself off and changes into clean clothes. When he goes back out, Takaaki is sitting on the floor by the table and Tsunehiro's futon is already laid out.

Tsunehiro takes a seat awkwardly at the end of the futon. "I'm really sorry about all this," he says, and looks at the table in between them, avoiding making eye contact. It looks like Takaaki wiped up the spill and threw out the barley tea can, but it's still visible where the spill happened. He hopes it’ll disappear when it dries. "Is the table okay? It didn't get stained or anything, did it?"

"The table doesn't matter right now," Takaaki says firmly, and takes a deep breath. It takes a while for him to talk, as if gathering his resolve, but finally he says, "Hiro, you're overworking yourself. This has to stop.”

Tsunehiro fidgets and starts making excuses. "I only fell asleep there because I started using my phone instead of going to bed immediately. But it's usually not this bad. I’ll try to go to bed earlier in the future."

Takaaki runs a hand through his hair. "I’ve seen your schedules recently. You shouldn't be scheduling so much work in. If you're working from night to 4 a.m. one day, then you shouldn't be taking a long shift the next morning."

He’s probably right. But it doesn't matter to him.

"Who cares?" Tsunehiro says bitterly. “If those are the shifts I can get, I’ll take it.”

Takaaki sets his arm on the table. "I tried telling Machida-san to schedule you less shifts," he says, "but he said you threatened to find another job if he did that."

Tsunehiro grits his teeth. "Why are you poking into that?" he says. "You don't have any right to choose how much I'm working."

Takaaki winces slightly. "Okay, maybe I was prying a little too much, but I have the right to be worried about you! We're roommates, for god's sake. Of course I'm going to worry when you're always getting home late and I barely see you eating proper meals."

Well, that's true, but... "I didn't ask you to," he mutters.

"Listen," Takaaki says. "I don't know why you're in such a hurry, but at the very least, there's no need to hurry on my account. I don't mind the company, and I don't think it's worth it to sacrifice your wellbeing now just to return your debt faster. Prioritize your wellbeing. You'll have all the time in the world to pay it back later."

All the time in the world, huh.

"But I don't," he says.

Takaaki pauses. It looks like he’s realized something, because his expression gets grimmer.

"What do you mean by that?" he asks, tone scarily flat.

Tsunehiro flinches. He didn't guess what was happening, did he? There's no way he could have figured it out from just that, Tsunehiro tries to reassure himself. "Forget it, it has nothing to do with you," he mumbles, and then, louder, says, "I'm still feeling pretty tired so I'm going to go to sleep now."

He turns around to climb into his futon, but Takaaki interrupts him before he can pull up the covers. "Wait," he calls. "You're hiding something from me."

A wave of irritation rushes through him. "So what if I am?" he says. "I don't have to share everything with you!" It's not like they're family, or lovers, or even friends at this point now that Tsunehiro’s wrecked everything. They’re just roommates, and coworkers.

"I'm sorry for prying so much," Takaaki says quietly. "But I can't understand if you don't say anything."

Tsunehiro pulls up the blanket from his futon but doesn’t get under it yet. He doesn't want to say. He doesn't want Takaaki to know and feel bad for him. But it’s been so hard to distance himself from him, especially with Takaaki being so nice and worrying over him so much, so maybe, maybe if Takaaki knows, he'll understand why Tsunehiro has to leave and he’ll let him go.

"I,” Tsunehiro starts to say, and gulps. Steady. Deep breaths. “I had a health check-up at college."

Still turned away from him, he can hear Takaaki shift in his seat, waiting for him to continue. Tsunehiro starts to tremble.

"They referred me to another hospital for a second round of tests. That's where I got my diagnosis, and my life expectancy. But that's all I've heard since."

He breathes out. He said it. Relief floods into him for a split second and then crashes, replaced by dread. He shouldn’t have said that. What was he thinking? He’s ruined all the effort he’s put in trying to distance himself. Takaaki isn’t the kind of person to just shut up and accept it faced with information like this. He’s just going to cling onto Tsunehiro even harder.

No, he can still turn this around. “I was just—” Joking, he starts to say, but Takaaki cuts him off.

"If you're sick,” Takaaki says, “then that's all the more reason to stop overworking yourself. And if you haven't heard back since, then you should go to the hospital. I'll go with you if you want the moral support."

Tsunehiro bites down on his lip. Takaaki's kindness feels overwhelming to the point it’s unpleasant, sickeningly sweet and guilt-inducing. Tsunehiro can't respond.

"You have a morning shift tomorrow, right?” Takaaki says. “I'll cover for you so you can sleep in and get some rest."

Tsunehiro turns to look back at him. "It's my shift, I can take care of it," he insists.

"Can," Takaaki says, "doesn't mean should." He nods to himself. "I won't take any arguments about your shift tomorrow, so get some rest, all right? And after that, you should make a hospital appointment."

Tsunehiro is silent, unable to bring himself to agree or disagree.

"Think it over, okay?" Takaaki says. He's so pushy, but Tsunehiro doesn't have it in him to argue back, at this point. His fingers clutch at the blanket, and he nods mutely.

Well, he'll at least agree to take the next day off. He turns off his phone alarm for the next day and settles in under the covers.

Takaaki closes the curtain and shuts the lights. "Good night," he says quietly.

"Night," Tsunehiro says back, and closes his eyes, but sleep doesn't come easy to him.

He wakes up drenched with sweat, heart beating fast as if he was on the run from the debt collectors again or something. He pushes off the covers in a daze, sitting up, and looks around. The room is lit dimly by the sunlight filtering through the curtains, and Takaaki's bed is empty but neatly folded.

Tsunehiro checks the time on his phone's screensaver. It's late morning. Takaaki must be at work now, taking over Tsunehiro's shift. Guilt nags at him. Even though he’s been trying hard these past weeks to rely less on Takaaki, he just ended up making more work for him. Nothing he ever does goes right.

Slowly, he picks out clean clothes to change into and takes a shower, washing all the sweat away. He doesn't know why he's so sweaty. Must have had a bad dream, but he's glad he forgot it.

He opens the fridge for breakfast and sees that Takaaki has already prepared breakfast for him, plastic wrap covering the bowls. This isn't the first time he's done this, and Tsunehiro also makes and leaves him breakfast, when their time schedules line up like that, but after yesterday it just makes him feel guilty. Food is food, though, so he takes it out and microwaves it.

Sitting down at the table, he’s starting to feel a little more calm. He checks his phone and sees that he has a text from Takaaki: Oh yeah do u have ur health insurance card?

idk, Tsunehiro texts back, flooded with a sense of dread. Why did he have to tell him? He wishes he could take it back. It's not going to help anything. He doesn't want to go to the hospital. He doesn't want to think about it more than he can help it. He was a fool for thinking that telling Takaaki might help him distance from him because of course it would do the opposite, he's just that kind of person.

He eats the rest of his breakfast, carrying it to his mouth in mechanical gestures, barely tasting the flavor. He washes the dishes by hand instead of putting them in the dishwasher, just to use up more time, and then spends a few minutes washing the dishsoap off his hands.

He doesn't want to go.

After Tsunehiro's old apartment was torn down, they sold most of his old furniture and appliances, and all of his other old stuff just got put into one of Takaaki's cabinets, where, apart from the clothes, it has mostly gone untouched. If he still has his insurance card, it’ll be in there.

He doesn’t want to.

He opens the drawer and takes out a pile of papers and junk, grimacing. There's some old mail, some old notebooks, and some old books. He winces to see the college notebooks that he's probably never going to use again, and sets them to the side. His notes have grown much more sloppy compared to high school, because he could no longer see the point in taking his classes seriously, and now they're abandoned because he can't see the point in taking his classes at all.

Next, his eye is caught by the Shonen Step manga magazine, the last issue he's read. He stopped being caught up a few weeks before his apartment was destroyed, because he lost the motivation to go outside and buy new copies. He flips through the pages. Although he’s been reading a few of the series he liked on the app, there will probably never come another time when he gets back up to date with it, even though he’s enjoyed keeping up with it for years.

Pulling himself away from it, he sets the magazine to the side and starts to rifle through the rest of his papers. A lot of it is old mail, mail that was probably important but he never bothered to open. The demolition people had just shoved all of his mail and papers into a trash bag with all of the actual trash that was on the floor, so it’s kind of crusty now. He realizes now how lucky it is that Takaaki never saw any of his old mail when they were sorting through his stuff, because it would have given him away very, very easily.

He finds his insurance card shoveled in between some other papers, easily and unceremoniously.

He had kind of figured it would be there, so it's not much of a surprise. He holds it up and sets it down on the table, starting to feel sweat pour down his back, and he breathes in sharply.

He doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to know. He doesn’t want to. Whether his expectation is better or worse or the same as the last time he went, he doesn't want to know. He just wants to forget about it. As long as he doesn't go, he can pretend like he’s going to be fine, like there was a chance it was a misdiagnosis, even, and like maybe one day he'll get past those two years without even realizing it, and keep on living.

But Takaaki wants him to make an appointment. Tsunehiro looks at the time on his phone. It's almost the end of his shift. In other words, he'll be home soon.

Tsunehiro's throat tightens and he shakes his head frantically, feeling his fight or flight instincts kick in. He shoves the health insurance card into his pocket and climbs to his feet, rushing to stack the papers and other books and shove them back into their spot in the cabinet.

And then, he's out of there. He fumbles to lock the apartment door up after him, and then as soon as he checks the knob and finds it secure, he starts to run.

Soon enough, he finds his legs take him to the nearest net cafe. It feels nostalgic—he hasn’t been here since before Takaaki took him in, months ago. He catches his breath a little once he gets outside, and then enters.

He's still breathing a little heavily, but the receptionist doesn't comment on it. He wonders if it's the same receptionist as before, but he can't remember.

"The cheapest spot you have, please," he requests. "For all night."

The receptionist rings him up, and he hands her the cash. He goes to his stall, and then slumps over and lays down as soon as he closes the door behind him.

Tsunehiro tries to take deep breaths, but it doesn't help him relax. He can faintly hear the sounds of the stalls next to him, muffled by the walls—the click-clacking of typing on those loud computer keyboards, and somebody talking sporadically, probably calling to play some video game.

He doesn't want to go to the hospital. He opens YouTube on his phone, and it recommends him fishing videos, like usual. He taps on the first one and lets the audio play out loud quietly. He's too lazy to get out his ear buds.

The words from the video pass through his head without him really registering them, but he tries to focus on them, in a vain attempt to avoid thinking about the hospital or his diagnosis. He's watched a few videos, just letting auto-play go to whatever was next, when a notification pops up, from Takaaki.

Where ru? Will u be home for dinner?

Tsunehiro stares at the message blankly. 'Home,' huh? He had gotten so used to calling Takaaki’s apartment that, but come to think of it, it’s not natural—the place is Takaaki’s home, not his.

At least he's not saying anything about the hospital appointment. Tsunehiro opens the Line app and replies, u can eat without me.

Almost immediately after, the phone starts ringing, but Tsunehiro doesn't think he can stomach talking to him right now. He lets the phone ring out, and then turns off his phone.

That's right, dinner. He leaves his stall to get some soup, and brings it back to his desk. He boots up the computer and searches for fishing videos there. The soup is warm but bland. It doesn't taste particularly good, but at least it fills his stomach.

After he finishes it, he turns off the computer and lies down on the padded floor of the stall. He stares at the chipped paint on the wall, and without anything to focus on, he finds his attention going to the sounds of life of around him, of being surrounded by people but boxed up and separated and isolated.

The floor is starting to feel uncomfortable, so he shifts to lie down on his other side. He doesn't remember net cafes feeling this constricting. The last time he was here, it felt like a breath of fresh air to get away from Takaaki and everyone else, but now, he realizes Takaaki's apartment has become much more comfortable than the net cafe. More comfortable than Tsunehiro's old apartment ever was, maybe.

It's like Takaaki said about the Exceed—now that he’s tried it, nothing else can ever be truly satisfying.

Tsunehiro curls up tighter, wishing briefly that he could at least hug Kumanyan or one of Takaaki's other plushies.

He wants to stay with Takaaki and everyone else at Everymart. He wants to keep working there, and going fishing with them, and listening to radio on the car ride back and eating their catches together. And he wants to stay with Takaaki, to be the one he says "I'm home" and "Welcome home" to, to spend the most time with him. He wants to be with him until his last moments, and a twisted part of him wants Takaaki to miss him terribly when he dies.

He realizes, with a sinking feeling, that Nishimori was probably right—he likes Takaaki, like that. And there’s nothing he can do about it.

Chapter Text

When Tsunehiro arrives at Everymart in the morning, Takaaki is standing outside by the door, even though Tsunehiro is fairly certain he doesn't have a shift scheduled for today. Arms folded, leaning against the glass, he honestly looks kind of intimidating. Is he sure he isn't scaring away customers?

Tsunehiro approaches carefully. When he woke up, there were a lot of missed calls and texts from him. He didn't realize he would be calling so much after the first time, or else he probably would've answered. Maybe. After he saw, he messaged him immediately to say he'd return home after work, but apparently that didn’t relieve his worry.

Takaaki starts walking quickly towards him when he spots him coming. Tsunehiro stops frozen. He doesn't know how to interact with him anymore, now that Takaaki knows about his illness, and after he kind of ran out on him last night, and now, terrifyingly, that Tsunehiro has realized he likes him back.

Takaaki shakes him by the shoulders, looking weirdly relieved. "Don't just disappear on me like that," he says, sounding unnaturally shaken, and then pulls him in for a hug.

After Takaaki’s been trying not to touch him for so long, the sudden contact makes Tsunehiro dizzy, freezing up completely. And while he was somewhat used to Takaaki being pretty touchy-feely before, hugging on a public sidewalk is a first for them. Tsunehiro is too shocked to even think about hugging him back before Takaaki pulls away and lets him go, looking a little apologetic.

“What is it?" Tsunehiro says, in a daze.

Takaaki puts a hand on his shoulder and sighs. "You told me you weren't coming home and then stopped responding to anything. What do you think that looked like to me?"

Tsunehiro rubs his fingers together nervously. “I dunno," he says. "Sorry. I turned my phone off so I didn't realize you called me so much. I just slept at a net cafe to clear my mind a little."

Takaaki looks disapproving, like he's fighting the urge to tell him off, but his expression goes neutral. "I'm sorry if I scared you off," he says.

“It's okay," Tsunehiro says, starting to feel a little hopeful. Maybe he’ll lay off about the hospital now. "Now, uh, I think I have to go to work now or I might be late."

Takaaki lets go of him and shakes his head. "No, you don't have work today," Takaaki tells him.

Tsunehiro blinks. "Huh?"

"Arua's taking over your shift." He jerks his thumb back at himself. "And we are going fishing."

Tsunehiro stares at him, eyes wide open. Didn’t he just apologize for scaring him off? Why is he being even more pushy? He shakes his head. "I took work off the day before, too," he protests. "I can't do it again today."

"Don't worry, I already have Machida-san's approval,” Takaaki says. “He's been worried about you, too, you know?"

Tsunehiro rubs the back of his head. He’s realized that, in the back of his head, but he’s been trying to ignore it. A little worry now will be better than grieving later.

"We've all been worried about you." He reaches out to take Tsunehiro's hand, and with Tsunehiro's new realization of his crush on him, he tenses up a little. "I parked my car nearby, so let's go."

Tsunehiro hesitates. “Stop,” he says, and pulls his hand out of Takaaki’s grip. “Why do you want me to go fishing with you so badly?”

Takaaki tilts his head. “You want to go, don’t you?” he asks. “I’ve seen you watching fishing videos, and I’ve seen you take out and stare at the Exceed when you think I’m asleep. You’re not hiding it well.”

Tsunehiro feels his face warm up. He thought he was doing a good job keeping it secret, but he guesses it’s hard to hide stuff for a whole month from your roommate living in an apartment that small.

“I guess,” he says. “If you insist.”

Takaaki smiles. "Don't worry, I brought your fishing gear from the apartment, too."

After Takaaki drives them to the parking lot, Tsunehiro picks up the Exceed from the trunk of the car, turning it over in his hands. As Takaaki noticed, he has sometimes taken it out at home, just to hold and admire, but it’s been so long since he’s actually fished with it.

It's been so long since he's gone fishing. Well, it's only been around a month, but it feels like forever to him.

They walk their gear out to the edge. Takaaki doesn't stray too far from him, setting up close by. With a practiced motion, he attaches the lure to the hook, and casts the rod into the water. Tsunehiro watches him and then picks out a similar lure for his own rod. He casts it into the water, traveling in a somewhat shaky arc, not landing as far as he was aiming for, but it’s not bad for his first time in a month.

He was expecting Takaaki to start pestering him once they got there, but surprisingly, he keeps quiet and they just stand together in companionable silence, only broken by the sound of the other anglers around them. Tsunehiro’s legs start to get tired after a certain point, but it hardly bothers him. It’s oddly relaxing. Even though nothing’s even happened yet, he’s kinda missed this.

But eventually, Takaaki breaks the silence.

"Hiro," he says. His voice is quiet but the suddenness of it makes Tsunehiro jump. "You know, if you ever have anything on your mind, you can always talk to me.”

“I know,” Tsunehiro says. He knows that Takaaki would be supportive no matter what he told him, which is precisely why he can’t confide in him any further. But now that he’s already come clean about his illness, he doesn’t know why Takaaki is telling him this. Does he think Tsunehiro is hiding something else?

“If you ever feel…” Takaaki trails off before continuing, “hopeless, or anything like that, then come to me first.”

Tsunehiro rolls his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” Takaaki says, drumming his fingers anxiously on the fishing rod’s handle, “if you ever feel, even a little bit, like life isn’t worth living, then I want you to tell me. Don’t try to deal with it yourself.”

Tsunehiro lets the words sink in and shudders. "I wasn't planning on..."

He hasn’t actually considered killing himself in months.

But now that he thinks about it, that must have been what Takaaki thought he was trying to do, when he didn't respond to his calls or come back home last night, and when he was staring out into the water before Takaaki offered to take care of him, and when they first met, when Takaaki and the others fished him out of the water.

He wonders if Takaaki’s always been worrying about this, if that’s why he gets so anxious when Tsunehiro disappears without explanation and why he tries to take care of him as if Tsunehiro’s neglecting himself. He wonders if that’s why he took him in in the first place, because he thought he was trying to drown himself on purpose. Guilt boils up inside of him.

"Sorry for making you worry," Tsunehiro says uncomfortably.

"Don’t be sorry," Takaaki says.

Tsunehiro stares back out at the water, imagining the fish swimming beneath its surface without having any idea that they could be fished up and killed and eaten in the next moment. Must be nice to be that simple and carefree.

"I found my insurance card," Tsunehiro says eventually, because he feels like he should update him on that, at least.

"That's great," Takaaki says. Tsunehiro doesn't look at him, keeping his eyes on the water in front of them, but his voice sounds clearly relieved. "Did you make an appointment?"

Tsunehiro's grip tightens on the fishing rod. He doesn't know if Takaaki's even looking at him, but he shakes his head, no.

"Okay," Takaaki says. Apparently he was looking. "Well, the day is still young. After we get home, you can call them."

"I don’t—" Tsunehiro starts, but then he feels a bite on the lure, and loses his train of thought. "Wait, I think I got something!"

He starts pulling in the reel, steady but pausing every once in a while to let the fish catch up, like Ayukawa taught him. It doesn't feel that big, but Tsunehiro hasn’t caught anything in such a long time that he’d be overjoyed to fish anything. He's almost there, almost—and, nope, he feels it let go.

He sighs. "Got away," he says.

"Close," Takaaki says, sympathetically.

He pulls up the fishing line the rest of the way and checks the hook. At least the lure is still there, he checks, and then casts it back into the water.

Looking across the river, Tsunehiro relaxes his shoulders. He hopes the conversation doesn't steer back on topic. They wait in silence for a few more moments, and Tsunehiro is starting to think that maybe Takaaki will actually let him off the hook, but then, Takaaki says, "You'll make an appointment after we get back home, right?"

Tsunehiro stares at his Exceed, avoiding eye contact. He could lie right now, just to get him off his back, but then he'll be back to nagging him when they get home. Of course, it would be the smart decision to actually go to the hospital, but...

"I don't want to know," he says.

Takaaki waits for him. Tsunehiro shifts on his legs and continues.

"I don’t want to know how long I have left," he says. "The doctor I first went to, he gave me an estimate, but until I go I won't know if it was an under or overestimate or maybe even a misdiagnosis."

He glimpses briefly at Takaaki, to gauge his reaction. His mouth opens, like he wants to say something, but then he closes it and keeps listening.

"When they told me, I was surprised, but not much else. It wasn't like I had anything to live for. I wasn't talented at anything, I didn't have any dreams or anything I really enjoyed, and I didn't have any friends or people I felt really connected to."

His fingers tighten around the fishing rod, tapping the handle nervously.

"I always thought I would get into a good college and join the 'upper crust.' My mom thought so, too. She spent so much money to send me to cram school and buy me studying materials, and I thought I was doing pretty well, until I actually took the exam and didn't make the cut."

He kicks the railing lightly. "I lived my whole life looking down on other people. I thought they were stupid for spending their time on friends and hobbies or for chasing any dream other than a stable corporate job. I thought that they were wasting their time, that when I grew up I'd show them up, but I was wrong. Stupid, right?"

When he says it all out loud, it sounds really pathetic. This was his whole life, focused on a goal he didn't even care about because he thought it was the respectable thing to do, scorning other people so that he didn't have the room to feel jealous. And he couldn't even follow through with it.

"But you changed," Takaaki says, gently, "didn't you?"

Tsunehiro clenches and unclenches his hand. His vision is starting to swim in front of him. "After meeting you and the others, I finally... got to try the things I always thought were stupid. And I..."

He finally got to have friends who he could hang out with outside of school. To experience a sense of accomplishment for something other than a test score or grade. He got to experience what is was like to return home to someone who actually cared about him for who he was.

"I don't want to die anymore," he says quietly, and realizes that his eyes are starting to water. He tries to wipe his tears away, and he tries to suppress his sobs, but they still come out in ugly hiccups. He feels self-conscious of the people around them, who can probably hear him cry, and he feels self-conscious of Takaaki looking at him, kind and sympathetic. He feels like he keeps on showing Takaaki his most pathetic, ugliest moments, and it’s starting to feel humiliating.

Takaaki sets his fishing rod down securely against the fence and takes his coat off, wrapping it around him so that other people can't see his face. He puts his hands comfortingly on his shoulders. "Thank you for telling me," he says. "Do you want to go back to the car?"

Tsunehiro takes a moment to steady himself and breathes in deeply, trying to stifle the flow of tears, and then nods his head slowly. Takaaki picks up their fishing rods and equipment, hands Tsunehiro one of the lure boxes to carry, and wraps his arm around his shoulder. Keeping the jacket in place, he walks him back to the car. As long as Tsunehiro doesn't turn his head, he can't see anyone else's eyes past the hood of Takaaki's coat—he tries not to think about whether other people can notice him crying.

Takaaki opens the car door for him, and then closes it after he steps into the car. Tsunehiro kinda wishes he would just keep holding him, but he tries to suppress that thought. Takaaki climbs into the right side of the car, closes the door, and puts the key in without igniting the engine.

Tsunehiro stays silent, pulling the jacket close around him. He knows Takaaki washes it frequently, but beneath the mask of their laundry detergent, he can smell the faint scent of beer, fish, and river water. Not the most pleasant smell, but weirdly comforting.

"How are you feeling now?" Takaaki asks. “Do you want to go home?’

Tsunehiro just nods, eyes still red. His sobbing has calmed down to quiet sniffles, but he still can’t bear to talk.

Takaaki starts driving, and finally, they arrive at Takaaki's apartment. Their home. Tsunehiro closes the door behind them, standing awkwardly at the entrance.

Looking across the apartment, he feels overwhelmed by how he can see Takaaki and their life together in it. It’s endearing how Takaaki’s personality comes through in the fishing equipment and stuffed animals, and the wear in the tables and the aging seat cushions are a testament to his life here. And Tsunehiro sees the own mark he made on the apartment, with the futon and covers never being folded as neatly, the few mug rings he’s left regrettably on the table, and the tiny amount of his belongings scattered across the rooms.

"I'm going to warm up some milk,” Takaaki says, walking into the kitchen. “You can go sit down."

Tsunehiro nods mutely and sits down on the couch. He shifts Takaaki's jacket around so it's covering him like a blanket, and breathes in steadily.

Eventually, the microwave timer goes off. Takaaki walks back to hand him the mug of warmed milk, and then sits next to him on the couch with his own mug. Tsunehiro turns it around in his hands. It’s the same Kumanyan mug that isn't really his but he never sees Takaaki drinking out of anymore. He drank from it on the first day he came here, too, he remembers.

Tsunehiro blows on the milk to cool it down and takes a small sip. It’s still a little too hot, lightly burning his tongue, but it warms his insides comfortingly. Despite himself, he feels his eyes start to water again, and he sets the mug down on the table.

"Stop being so nice to me," he says weakly.

Takaaki sets his mug down, too, and looks at him curiously.

"The more you do, the more I like you, and the more it hurts," Tsunehiro says. "I don't actually want to move out. I want to stay with you. I want to go fishing with you, and go on dates with you, and wake up with you and eat meals with you and come back home to you, and—” He breathes in deeply. “I want to die with you by my side."

Takaaki's eyes widen at his sudden confession. "Then—"

"But if I die while we're living together, that'll be a big problem for you, right?" Tsunehiro says. He takes a deep breath and drinks a little more milk, so that the mug covers up his expression. He continues. "I don't want to hurt you. It's better that you don't waste your time on me, because there's nothing I can give you after I die."

"Don't say that," Takaaki says, an edge of anger in his voice. "It's not a waste."

"Then what would you call it?” Tsunehiro asks, looking down at his mug. “After I die, all your kindness is going to be for nothing. You're going to wish you never met me."

Takaaki exhales deeply. "I mentioned I had a little brother, right?"

Tsunehiro turns to look at him, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. He does remember Takaaki saying he passed on his old fishing equipment to his little brother. Come to think of it, it's kinda weird that he's never seen him visit, even though it sounded like they were so close. "You said he liked fishing too, right?"

Takaaki nods stiffly. "Well, he was also sick, like you,” he says. “Except he got hospitalized, and then he couldn't stand his illness, and he died."

"Oh," Tsunehiro says quietly, returning his gaze to the table.

Takaaki is really unlucky, isn't he? First his little brother, and now Tsunehiro. He's just digging up his buried trauma, clawing his nails into old wounds.

"Tell me, Hiro. Do you think the time I spent with him was a 'waste'?" Takaaki says, voice edged low, almost devoid of emotion.

Tsunehiro shakes his head slowly. "I don't," he says. “I don’t think that.”

"Then," Takaaki says forcefully, "why do you—"

"But that's different!" Tsunehiro protests. "Isn't it? He's your family. You’ve been with him his whole life. But for me, from the time you met me, the time you can spend with me can only be around two years, max. It’s not worth it.”

Takaaki is momentarily silent, so Tsunehiro turns to look at him and finds that he’s looking away from him at the table.

“Two years,” Takaaki repeats, voice softening. “Is that what the doctor said?”

“Yeah,” Tsunehiro says quietly.

Takaaki looks at him, desperate to reassure him. “I’ve had friendships that lasted less than two years,” he says. “And even if I feel a little lonely when I remember them, it doesn’t change the good times we had together.”

Tsunehiro shakes his head. “That’s different,” he says.

Takaaki pauses and tries again. “Everyone dies sooner or later,” he says. “People die unexpectedly, too. Suppose a friend you only met a year or so ago suddenly died in a car accident. Do you think that would make the time you spent with them a waste?”

“Of course not,” Tsunehiro says. He grips the mug so tight it starts to feel like it’s burning. “But that’s different, too. I know my expectancy. If I don’t do anything about it, it’s just cruel.”

“It’s not cruel,” Takaaki says. “You have as much of a right to friendship and happiness as everyone else does.”

Tsunehiro looks away and sets the mug down on the table. Does he? He doesn’t feel like he’s done a single thing in his life to make him worthy of anything.

"Think of it this way," Takaaki says. "If you found out I was going to die soon, what would you do?"

Tsunehiro grips his fingers into Takaaki's jacket and imagines it. Just thinking about it is unpleasant, but his answer is easy. "I’d want to stay with you.”

"Right?" Takaaki says. “So let me be with you, too.”

Tsunehiro shakes his head, pulling his knees in so that Takaaki’s jacket covers his face. It doesn't feel fair, that Takaaki can be there for the rest of Tsunehiro's life, but Tsunehiro can only be there for a small fraction of his. Takaaki’s already done the world for him, but Tsunehiro will never, ever be able to pay him back. He feels parasitic, leeching off of Takaaki’s kindness.

Takaaki looks up at the ceiling. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me, didn’t you? Well, if I’m going to be honest, it hurts much more that you don’t want to stay with me because you’re scared. It hurts that you can give up on me so easily.”

“It’s not easy,” Tsunehiro says, his eyes starting to water again. He’s not trying to distance himself from him because he doesn’t care. It’s because he cares that he’d rather give him up than hurt him more later. Why can’t Takaaki understand that?

“Then don’t hold yourself back,” Takaaki urges him, and wraps his arms around him, hugging him somewhat awkwardly from the side. He rubs circles in Tsunehiro’s back, comfortingly, and despite himself, Tsunehiro closes his eyes and leans back into him. He feels so selfish.

“What would hurt me the most is if you died without me there,” Takaaki murmurs. “If I knew you suffered alone in your last moments and I did nothing to help you. The guilt would haunt me for the rest of my life.”

Something prickles uncomfortably under Tsunehiro’s skin. “Don’t exaggerate,” he says quietly. “It’d be a few years, at most.”

“Then are you okay with that?” Takaaki asks. “Haunting me for a couple years?”

That’s not what he wants, either. He wants Takaaki to stop caring about him, but he’s starting to realize that at this point, it’s too late. There’s nothing he can do about it—he’s caught hook, line, and sinker. Tsunehiro breathes in, exhales, and shakes his head. “I’m not.”

Takaaki hugs him tighter. “Then you don’t have to run away from me anymore,” he says. “Let’s spend more time together. Let’s go fishing with everyone else, and eat more meals together, and spend time watching stupid videos together like before.”

If this is really what Takaaki wants, then maybe it’s fine. “Okay,” he says.

“And,” Takaaki says, voice wavering a little, “let’s go to the hospital, okay? Even if you don’t like their estimate, it’s better to see if there’s anything you can do about it.”

Tsunehiro hesitates longer but nods again, giving in. “Okay.”

Takaaki buries his face in Tsunehiro’s shoulder, hair tickling the crook of his neck. He feels warm and safe and anchoring. “Welcome home,” he says, and Tsunehiro finally smiles.