Silent Acceptance

Spilled Ink, Part 1

Was it some temporary insanity...? Or maybe something else? And why was it this color?


Vamp. Number 18 in the Chanel series of lipsticks. A deep blood burgundy made for catching someone's attention. It was a color to be noticed in.

And to Tsuneo Sawa, it was a big black and gold elephant sitting in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom. Even if he couldn't see it, he knew it was there. The temptation to try it on again called to him, but his responsibilities were enough to keep the desire at bay temporarily.

Once housing, job and Yukihito's schooling were taken care of however, the call became irresistible.

At first, he simply donned it in the bathroom. The first swipe covered half of his upper lip, and with the second swipe his heart began to pound in his chest. His hands would be trembling by the time he made the final stroke across his bottom lip. The pounding felt so loud that he was sometimes convinced that Yukihito could hear it from the living room.

Then he was simply stare at his lips before frantically wiping them clean with a damp tissue and be done with it for the day. As he got used to the sight of his shaded lips, he would look at his entire face until the coloring didn't feel so alien. By the time he managed a smile it felt just right.

Soon, those lips would move, grinning, frowning, pouting, widening in a silent shout. He would toss his short hair back, head cocked to the side like a model, then bite his knuckle to keep the bubble of laughter from erupting too loudly. It was silly, a grown man playing with makeup like a little girl, but Sawa found himself liking that kind of silly. It was the joy of discovery that he'd been missing for so long. He would even hum the same song he heard himself sing in that dream he had the first night he stole the lipstick..

Now if he could only take that joy outside of the bathroom. He was worried about Yukihito. The boy's reaction the first time was so strong that Sawa didn't want to upset him once more. He also didn't want Yukihito to associate “Sawa in makeup” with “trying to be Mom”. Sure, he'd said as much then, but emotions were so high that he wasn't sure if he was understood. It was probably best to keep this to himself for the moment.

He heard two soft knocks on the door, signaling that dinner was ready and it was time for the silly to end.

“Alright, I'm on my way,” he said, wiping the lipstick from his lips, neatly folding the tissue and depositing it into the waste bin. This was for the best, and besides, the color clashed horribly with his work uniform.

Another week of secret visits to the bathroom and Yukihito grew frustrated. He was far from stupid, he knew where the tube was and what Sawa was doing with it. It just irked him that Sawa would try to hide something like this from him.

He still couldn't form the words to tell Sawa how he felt that fateful day he got his voice back. So many emotions jumbled up inside of him all at once and before he knew it he'd tackled his uncle to the floor in a mess of tears. He wanted to answer the question “Do you think you need me like this?” with “Yes! Just like this!”

Just as he was, not with that strange feeling that Yukihito sensed whenever he was around the man who smiled too gently, spoke too softly when he wasn't paying attention, hugged him too frequently and owned perhaps too many love stories. There was something about him that didn't make Yukihito want to run and hide, unlike any other man he encountered after his mother's death. While he wasn't sure what it was, he was certain that lipstick had something to do with it.

He brightened a bit when he heard Sawa stirring from the bedroom. Yukihito started the habit of waiting up for him to return for work, and was usually the first one awake. He'd hoped that Sawa would stay asleep long enough as he took a quick trip to the store to pick up his surprise. Well, he also grabbed a few groceries so that he wouldn't look so suspicious, but the nice lady behind the counter simply smiled and rung up his order without question.

She probably thought he was running an errand for his mother.

“Good morning, Yukihito-kun,” Sawa yawned. “Have you been up long?”

He shook his head, going back to the math workbook opened before him.

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Yukihito took a breath and began a countdown. From his observations, Sawa liked to visit his secret first thing in the morning.

Five, four, three, two...

Nothing. The door didn't open, his name wasn't called in surprise or anger, nothing. Curious and a little disappointed he approached the door, listening closely.

“Tsuneo-san?” he asked softly. A shocked gurgle answered him, which wasn't the reaction Yukihito was looking for at all.

Alarmed, he turned the knob and barged in. Sawa stood at the sink, one hand over his mouth, the other holding Yukihito's “surprise” - Bijin Hyakka, a popular women's magazine. Both were trembling. Tears slowly fell from his eyes, which darted in Yukihito's direction.

“How long have you known?” Sawa whispered so low that Yukihito had to strain to hear him.

“Not long.” He reached for the magazine, opening it in Sawa's hand and flipping to an article that caught his eye in the store: Putting Your Best Face Forward; A guide to finding colors to complement you! The article featured several color wheels for different shades of skin. Yukihito thought it would be of some help to Sawa, but it seemed only to upset him.

Sawa stopped him as he tried to take the magazine away. “Do you really accept this? Why? You know I'm not trying to replace Yukie. This is who I am...” He knew he was babbling, but he was afraid that if he stopped talking, Yukihito would have the chance to reject him.

Instead of answering him directly, Yukihito opened the medicine cabinet and turned towards the kitchen. He was getting hungry and there was enough rice left over from last night to use with the pickles he just bought to make onigiri for lunch. He had confidence in Sawa's intelligence to let him figure out his response, especially with the huge clue he just revealed.

The tears were gone, replace by a look that was all shock. Inside the cabinet, sharing space with Vamp, were two new tubes of lipstick, an eyeliner pencil, and one of those four-way eyeshadow pots. Apparently the boy had consulted the article and found a few colors to go with Sawa's fair skin in the
makeup section of the store. It was a blinking “Yes” sign going off in Sawa's face. It was so anticlimactic. He'd be expecting a huge confrontation, after all.

“I have no idea how to put the rest of this stuff on,” he grumbled out loud after regaining his voice, surveying his new presents. The pencil looked the most intimidating. He could blind himself with that thing.

“Page 97,” Yukihito called out from the kitchen. Sawa flipped to the page and groaned.

What's This For? Make-Up Tips for the Inexperienced and Clueless.

-------------

Something clicked in Sawa's mind after that day, a part of him hidden so deep that he didn't even know it was there until recently was barreling out like a downhill freight train with no brakes. Simply extending his bubble from the bathroom door to apartment proper made quite the difference. There was so much more he could discover.

He joked one day that he should get a Baby's First book, change the name and document his discoveries. Tsuneo's First Time Applying Eyeliner Without Injury. Tsuneo's First Pair of Heels (one and half inches, brought from a second hand store, and pinched horribly since he was too nervous to figure out his own shoe size in women's). Tsuneo's First Step in Heels (wobbly, the second landed him on the floor). Tsuneo's First Clue That “Tsuneo” Wasn't the Best Name for a Man who Wears Make-up and Heels...

He would save a page just for Yukihito and write every word the boy said. He'd write the dates and times of Yukihito's full sentences, the first time he answered the telephone without prompting and each and every time he smiled. He was very slowly inching out of that silent shell right in front of Sawa's eyes.

Of course, the changes in both of them didn't matter once they left the apartment. Yukihito would revert back to a painfully shy wisp of a teenager and Sawa would become a responsible security guard with a painfully shy teenager to take care of.

Granted, this particular security guard spent entirely too much time patrolling the women's sections of the store he worked in. MyCity had blouses to die for.

--------



“Achoo!”

“Throw another blanket on, Yukihito-kun. You're still shivering.”

Yukihito did as he was told, wrapping the extra blanket around his thin frame. The added layer helped warm him, but not by much. Sawa hoped the landlord would fix the heating today. It was far too cold to go without it for too long, and Yukihito had already caught a nasty little cold. He didn't want it to worsen.

He bought a bowl of rice porridge to the boy curled up on the couch. “I hope this helps warm you up a bit more.”

Yukihito accepted the bowl with a weak smile. For the past two days, he'd gone back and forth between lying in bed and resting on the couch. With the medicine he'd been taking, he managed to spent most of that time sleeping, even though the night while Sawa worked. Too worn out to do concentrate on the workbooks (he'd gotten new ones for New Year's), he just read Sawa's novels when he wasn't asleep. The stack on the coffee table grew considerably.

Sawa eyed the titles on the stack as he joined Yukihito on the couch, pulling his own cover around his legs. “Haven't you read those already? I swear I bought some new titles a month ago.”

“Those are it,” Yukihito replied before taking another mouthful of soup and sighing as the warmth washed though his body. It was a brief respite from the cold in the living room. He'd already read most of the books in the apartment, some of them twice.

“Oh really? I hope you haven't been too bored...”

Due to shopping for holiday gifts earlier and medicine now, money was a little tight. Sawa was loathe to ask his parents for money since they had been doing just fine thus far. They would just have to cut out any extra spending until payday rolled by again, and that included new books.

Silently, they watched the television until Yukihito could barely keep his eyes open. Sawa leaned over and cupped the boy's face. His cheeks felt unusually warm, which was a case for concern. He hoped Yukihito wasn't coming down with a fever. He'll have to double check to make sure.

“Come here for a second,” he gently ordered, drawing Yukihito's head closer until their foreheads touched. It was something his own mother did to him whenever he was ill. It worked better for testing a body's temperature than his hands, which were still quite cold.

Yukihito's face warmed even more at the sudden closeness between them. While Sawa's eyes were closed, his remained open, studying his face, absently judging just how far he would need to move forward to...to...

To what? His first thought was to brush his lips against the surface of Sawa's own, and that made him feel strange and nervous. Did he really want to kiss his uncle? He had to have been reading far too many romance novels to even begin to entertain the thought. Of course he didn't want to do such a thing.

Before he could continue on that train of thought, Sawa moved away, clucking his tongue. “And now you're flushed and sleepy. You should head for bed and get some more rest.”

“But I'm fine here,” replied Yukihito. Today was Sawa's night off and he didn't want to spend it sleeping the entire time. He was the most comfortable whenever Sawa was nearby.

“Well, if you're fine here, then rest. I'll turn off the TV and-huh?”

Yukihito lay his head on Sawa's chest, his slight weight and the suddenness of the motion just enough to force Sawa to lie back, quickly wrapping his arms around Yukihito to prevent him from rolling off the couch. With a tiny sigh, the boy closed his eyes and prepared to doze off. Sawa opened his mouth to protest, but one look at the content look on that face was enough to silence him. As long as Yukihito was happy. Besides, this was just like any other form of comfort, he told himself as the strange guilt feelings returned. They'd done the same thing many times while growing up, and it was considered cute from the observers (mostly Mom and Yukie).

With a few shifts he moved his legs to a more accommodating position and kept one arm draped to secure Yukihito. The other hand used the remote to turn the television off and then reached for one of the books on the coffee table. Reading a little will give him something else to think about.

-------------

Yukihito woke up three hours later, feeling considerably better, if very overheated due to the newly repaired heating unit that hummed quietly in the background. Wiggling out of the cocoon of blankets, he noticed that he was not longer lying on top of Sawa. The scratch of pen against paper drew him to the coffee table, where Sawa sat, writing intensely with a short stack of pages next to him. He was so deep in thought that he looked as if he didn't notice Yukihito stirring.

“Tsuneo-san?” Yukihito called, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Looking up, Sawa smiled back, pausing pen over the paper. “You look so much better now. I hope I didn't wake you.”

“What are you doing?”

He put the pen down. “Yukihito, what if I told you that I wanted to quit my job?”

“You hate it there.” Yukihito had a point; working as a security guard was just as bad as working as a cop. Sawa still had to hide, pretending to be “one of the guys”. No matter how great of a day he was having, his mood would automatically darken whenever he put on that uniform.

“That's true. But what if I told you that I wanted to become a writer instead? What if I'm discovering that I like creating characters and stories as much as I like to read them? What if I've been reading these stories so much that I could probably write my own?”

He'd come to this conclusion after an hour of reading. Sawa had been bored at the start, having gone though that particular novel several times before. It would be a while before he could purchase more, but what to do in the meantime?

Hmmm, he thought. I could try my hand at writing one of my own. The plots are fairly basic and easy to emulate. And it would give me something more distracting to do than be Yukihito's pillow.

Slowly and carefully, he extracted himself from under the sleeping boy, replacing himself with a pillow and managing to not wake him. There was a stack of blank paper near the table; it was were Yukihito worked in his workbooks, after all.

By the time Yukihito woke up, Sawa's intended short story now spanned five pages and counting. He wrote of a fancy ball, a brooding Count, and a masked lady who constantly eluded him. The words flowed from his pen at the will of his imagination, describing grand halls and beautiful gowns and one man's obsession with an ideal beauty made into flesh.

It was a great deal of fun.

Yukihito grabbed the stack of already written pages, flipped them over and began reading. It was nice to read something different.

“Yukihito-” Sawa was about to object to a 14 year old reading his story, but he reminded himself that the one love scene in it so far was about as explicit as the books that still littered the table, all heaving bosoms and torrid ravishing. If this was what he wanted to do for a living, he'd better get used to someone else reading his work.

After a moment, Yukihito flipped to the next page, and then the next. Each time he did increased Sawa's heart rate. Just waiting for the reaction was torture. His first reader's face was blank, impassive and far too serious for a boy his age. It was a distinct change from the dozing angelic expression he had not 15 minutes prior.

“It's only a rough draft, you know. A very rough draft.”

“Shhh.” As he finishing reading the last page, Yukihito then looked up, anticipation in his eyes. “So, what happens next?” The Count finally had the Lady in his grasp and was about to remove her mask. From the way the story was told so far, it was hard to determine whether he wanted to confess his love or kill her. Or both.

“I haven't written it yet,” Sawa replied, surprised, holding the page he was currently working on to his chest as if Yukihito would snatch it from his fingers before it was completed. “Do you like it so far?” He relaxed at his nephew's nod. “You're not just saying that, are you?”

That got him the “Duh Look”, eyebrow arched, lips pressed together. It expressed the idea far louder than words.

“Alright then, I'll finish it up, but no more sneak peeks for you.” He took the papers from Yukihito's hands. “You're going to have to wait until I'm done and have read over it and checked for errors...”

-----------

"...the very next morning, the Count was found at the bottom of the ravine. A golden harlequin mask rested in his nerveless hand. The servants who found him were most disturbed by the look of sublime contentment on his face, as if he had seen the face of an angel just prior to taking his final breath. The mask was burned with him, and their ashes mingled in the cold winds of his surrounding lands, roaming forever.”

It took three more days to complete the final pages of the newly dubbed “Languish”. The ending was a twist for Yukihito, with it taking a complete turn from the “happily ever after” stories he was so used to. As surprised as he was, he enjoyed it, and let Sawa know.

“Really? I think I could do so much more with it, honestly.”

With that motivation, two shorter stories followed, providing a bit of backstory in the span of two weeks. He used a notebook to pen his works at home, on the train, and during breaks at work. Yukihito went from eager reader to editor, taking the raw drafts Sawa would leave behind and going over them armed with his grammar book and a dictionary. Sawa allowed him his “sneak peeks” then, appreciating his input and help.

“'Be a Kirei author!'” Sawa read from the back page of the newest novel to Yukihito. They were on the train to Minato Gauken for Yukihito's big test. He spent the previous week studying, with Sawa's help and encouragement. Sawa, for his part, secretly saved his writings for during the train ride to work and during breaks in order not to tempt Yukihito into editing instead of cramming. He even took this opportunity to experiment more with his content. On the way to the station, they stopped by the bookstore and picked up a few new novels. After filling his head with required knowledge, the boy would need the break.

“'Kirei is looking to turn a few good fans into a few great writers to fill their Spring collection, Pleasure's Past,” Sawa continued. “Send in your original, unpublished short stories (under 5,000 words, please, and up to three works per author) by February 20th. Chosen stories get 50,000 yen and will have their work printed in the collection. Come and join the Kirei team of popular romance novelists!'” Smiling, he turned to his silent nephew. “So that's the sound of opportunity knocking. I think I want to enter 'Languish' into this.”

Yukihito gave no response, but Sawa wasn't expecting one. They were surrounded by a lot of people in the late afternoon rush, and he hadn't gotten comfortable with such a large group yet. True to his word, Sawa didn't push him to speak. He'd proved himself well enough with smaller groups so far.

“I think you're going to do fine today,” Sawa said, changing the subject. “After the test, we'll get some red bean dumplings on the way home. My treat for doing your best.” He was guaranteed a response this way. Red bean dumplings were Yukihito's favorite sweet.

The smile he got was a brief quirk of the lips, but it was enough for him.

Munching on another dumpling, Yukihito circled another group of words. He'd done well enough on the test, especially in grammar. Perhaps it was because he had so much practice editing Sawa's works.

“Languish” was as done as it was going to be and ready to be typed up, but he insisted on going through it one more time while Sawa was gone. At 10 pages, he was worried that it would be considered too long. With some careful deletion, it should be acceptable for the contest.

He looked over at the clock in the kitchen, which read 2:30AM. Sawa would be calling in about a half hour to check on him. Yukihito debated telling him about the impromptu editing, then decided instead to just let him find out when he looked at it again, just like normal. It became like a game between the two of them; Sawa would believe that he had written a passage perfectly until Yukihito found one misplaced bit of kanji. It felt good to be so useful.

There were only six dumplings left from the dozen they'd purchased. They each had one on the way home, Sawa took another with him on his way to work, and Yukihito just polished off his third. It was probably a good idea to cut himself off before he ate them all in one night. He remembered with a smile being much younger and bringing a dozen of the treats to visit his grandparents and uncle. Mom would allow him just one long before dinner and Obaasan would promise him another if he cleaned his plate. Sawa would sometimes sneak him one when neither was looking.

“Our little secret,” he would say, winking and placing a finger in front of his lips, a gesture Yukihito would clumsily imitate.

Of course, when you're four, secrets like that are hard to keep sometimes, especially when you're caught literally red-handed. Sawa would immediately admit to the crime and endure the scolding of both Mom and Obaasan for spoiling Yukihito's dinner, with Ojiisan and Dad chuckling at his boldness.

Yukihito's smile faded at the thought of his father. Now in jail for the rest of his life, Dad's last request to the Sawa family was that his son never see him again. Full of shame for what he had done, he wanted Yukihito to grow up as far from the memory of Yukie's death as possible. Looking into the face of her murderer wouldn't help matters. He accepted the loss of both his wife and son as more punishment than the jail sentence.

While he understood his father's decision, there was a small part of him that wanted to know why his mother had to die. He wanted to ask the man who did it to his face. The words “temporary insanity” were of little consolation to him.

The phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts. It was probably for the best, he thought as he raced to grab it from the kitchen, I'm not sure if I'll ever know. “Tsuneo-san?”

“Yukihito-kun, how are you holding up?” Sawa's voice sounded deeper than the soft lit he was developing while at home. His coworkers had to be close by.

“I'm fine.” With short sentences, Yukihito told him of the current list of completed chores. The laundry was done and ready to be folded, the dinner dishes were clean, and no, he didn't need Sawa to pick up anything on the way home.

“You're always so great about taking care of the place while I'm gone. Thank you.”

“Huh?” What was Sawa thanking him for? Of course he would help around the apartment. He was here all day, what else was he going to do?

Reassured that everything was in fact fine, Sawa said goodbye and hung up, promising to be home soon. Yukihito was comforted by those 3AM phone calls, but he would be even more so once Sawa walked through the door in three hours. Now to entertain himself until then,and he knew just what to do.

Going into the bedroom, Yukihito knelt in front of the dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. Shortly after he started spending the evenings alone, Yukihito accidentally found an interesting surprise in this particular drawer one day while putting away some clean laundry.

Sawa had stashed more than a few Boy's Love novels in the bottom drawer under his uniforms. Yukihito assumed that Sawa thought that he would never look in there, given that he got those uniforms dry cleaned, not laundered. Yukihito, excited at having something new to read, when through the first one in only an hour. He surprised himself in not only enjoying the plot but the racier love scenes. It sure beat the “heaving bosoms” in the novels stacked in the living room. At that point, he was hooked.

He usually waited until Sawa made his phone call before going into the drawer. The selection in there never grew, and he wondered if Sawa had stopped collecting these when they moved. After a week of study, he was looking forward to continuing where he left off. Slowly, carefully he lifted the folded clothes up and out of the drawer. He then reached in and pulled out two paperbacks-ones he'd read before. Under all of that was the book he was currently working on, “Stop Break”, a collection of stories focusing on relationships at a fictional legal office.

As his hands closed around the book, Yukihito noticed a piece of paper peeking out from underneath. He was always good at setting the drawer back just as he left it, so he knew that paper was a new addition. For a moment, he was afraid that Sawa had found out about his after-hours peeking and left a note to catch him in the act. He hoped that his uncle wasn't too angry with him.

The paper wasn't just a single sheet, but three, folded in half. At the top of the first page was a title, “Reflections”, in Sawa's handwriting. It looked like another story, and Yukihito eagerly began reading. If it was a new story, it was going to need a good once over.

By the second page, Yukihito thought his face would burst into flames from blushing. This wasn't like “Languish” at all. For starters, keeping with the theme of the contents of the drawer, it involved two men. And it was very short, only those three pages.

And it was far, far more explicit.

“More,” Kai gasped, digging crescents into Shinichrou's shoulders, arching into each unforgiving thrust. “Fuck me, harder...”

Yukihito finished the story panting slightly. He shifted himself from the kneeling position he was in to sitting to give a bit of comfort to the erection now tenting his pants. That tale succeeded in titillating him perfectly. Sawa was upping the ante with this type of writing.

Yes, Tsuneo-san wrote this, he thought, hoping it would calm him down a bit. I have to remember that my uncle wrote this, so I shouldn't get this worked up about it.

Unfortunately, it didn't work. In fact, that same weird and warm feeling he had before returned, making his stomach flutter. He needed to distract himself, to focus his thoughts elsewhere...

For starters, why would Sawa feel the need to hide something like this? If he wanted to keep Yukihito from editing anything while he was supposed to be studying, then all he had to do was tell him so. There was no need to hide it. And if that wasn't the reason, then what could it be? What did this mean?

As much as he hated confrontations, Yukihito needed to let Sawa know that he didn't have to keep secrets like this from him. Taking a cue from the successful “make-up” incident, he took the story into the living room and grabbed a pencil. As decent a writer Sawa was and no matter what he wrote, he still needed an editor.


“Yukihito, you have to cut out the snooping.” Sawa ran a hand through his hair as he paced back and forth in from the bed where the boy sat. It took two days for Sawa to discover the familiar pencil marks all over his latest tale. That had been the piece he was secretly working on, and he believed it safe. The thought that not only had Yukihito found it, but had read the novels surrounding it, concerned him.

He knew his family had their suspicions about why a young man his age hadn't gone out and started a family of his own, or even why he never showed interest in another young woman. After all, Yukie was wed at 18 and their parents did the same in their early 20s. Yukihito's father once asked point blank during a visit if he even liked women. Yukie then glared at her husband, covering Yukihito's 10 year old ears.

“That's not a polite thing to ask, Ichi. Tsuneo hasn't met the right person.” Her tone demanded that the subject be closed. Sawa swore that Yukihito got his repertoire of glares from his mother.

While he was relived that Yukie stepped in before he had to come up with an appropriate response, it was her covering up her son's ears that stood out the most in his mind. He read it as an unspoken request: “Not in front of the boy.” It was that memory that compelled him to hide his true inclinations, simply out of habit. The novels were all mail ordered, coming to him in plain paper wrapping, and he hadn't updated his collection in months, and not until he began dressing up did he have the urge to write about his desires.

Of course, he also wasn't expecting Yukihito to go digging for answers on his own. He had to nip this in bud before his curiosity led to something terrible.

“None of these books are even remotely appropriate for someone your age.” That earned him an annoyed glare. “I'm serious. If Mom or Dad ever knew what I was exposing you to, they'd had you back in Chiba so fast it'd make both our heads spin. I'd never see you again, they'd be sure of it.” He paused his pacing, looking at Yukihito and letting the words sink in. This was important that he realize this. Sawa couldn't imagine ever seeing his nephew again, and he hoped that Yukihito felt the same way. Yukihito looked down at his hands.

Sawa let the pause drag on a bit before continuing. “Looks like you're understanding what I'm trying to say. Good, because this next part isn't going to be easy.” He sat on the floor, back supported by the dresser. The distance between them was only a few feet, but it felt much greater. Sawa was glad for it, the space would give him some room to say what he needed to say. It was time he let Yukihito know what he was getting into, as much as he wanted the boy to stay with him.

For his part, Yukihito was puzzled at Sawa's demeanor. He'd expected to be scolded a bit, but it was the look in the conflicted look in those gray eyes that gave him pause. Was it really that big of a deal that he liked a type of novel?

“I read these books, I mean, I like to collect these novels because I really like them. I can identify with the characters and the themes, and-oh hell, what am I trying to say? You've been so good to me about the whole dressing thing, why is this so hard to tell you? I've felt this way far, far longer...”

“You like other men.” A statement, not a question. If Sawa keep speaking like he was caught red-handed, he would start getting upset, just like he did in the bathroom months ago. Yukihito only hoped he made the correct assumption.

“Yes, exactly, that's what I've been trying to say,” Sawa replied without missing a beat. “That's what I adore about you, Yukihito-kun, you can just pull the point out of whatever it is I'm saying, can't you?” Sawa blinked for a moment. “Wait a minute, you didn't know this all along?”

Yukihito shook his head, and Sawa immediately relaxed. That made Yukihito feel a lot better. That fluttering made a small return in his belly, but he could ignore it for a moment. Once again, his acceptance caused that smile, and that was what mattered the most.

They talked more about boundaries and came to an agreement. Yukihito was free to read the BL novels (which were moved to a lower shelf in the living room), and if he had any questions about anything, he would let Sawa know. Sawa, in return, would start ordering more of them and would happily answer those questions, no matter how embarrassing they were. It wasn't like he had any experience outside of those books and his own imagination. Of course, no one outside of the apartment was to know about their arrangement.


Later that evening, with dinner done and dishes washed, Sawa found himself wondering just where he was going to sleep for the second time since they moved in. Before their talk, he had no problem sharing the bed with Yukihito. It helped them both sleep better, he discovered. Some nights the distance between them would lessen until he would wake up to find Yukihito sharing his pillow. He didn't have the heart to push him away, preferring to simply watch him. In sleep, Yukihito looked as if he didn't have a care in the world, so peaceful, innocent, and beautiful. Sawa couldn't help but occasionally brush his dark bangs back from his pale forehead or kiss the smooth surface of his temple. It was all right, he told himself when the gulity feelings would arise, this is acceptable affectionate behavior between two family members.

But now that Yukihito was aware of his inclinations, he honestly didn't know if sharing the bed would be appropriate anymore. Working in the Shinjuku district after his transfer made him more aware of the darker sexual element. It also made him painfully aware of the stereotypes surrounding male homosexuals. After a roundup of young hustlers and their johns, the other officers would have a field day mocking the older patrons as they questioned them. Sawa had to adopt a highly professional manner just to keep the others from expecting him to join in.

And Yukihito hadn't been sheltered all of his life. He had been warned about strange perverts that lurk in dark alleys and train stations waiting to snatch cute little boys. Sawa only hoped that Yukihito wouldn't ever think of him like that. He had to keep his charge's comfort in mind. Even if it meant sacking out on the couch for a little while.

Sawa turned off the living room and kitchen lights and headed for the bedroom. Yukihito was already lying in bed in his usual spot next to the wall, eyes closed. The empty pillow next to him silently waited for Sawa's head, and made him even more tired just by looking at it.

Just this night. He'd sleep in the bed tonight and them ask Yukihito about it in the morning.

He climbed into bed, pulling the covers over his body and settling in.

“Goodnight, Yukihito-kun,” he whispered. Yukihito scooted over until they shared his pillow.

“...night...”

It seemed that Yukihito had already made his choice.



Author's Notes:

Sorry it took me so long to get this out; work has been eating my life like it was covered in chocolate.

Vamp and Bijin Hyakka (from the first part) both exist. I ended up going to the mall on a whim and taking a look at what Vamp would look like. I originally thought it would be some sort of bright red color, but nope. I think a blood-burgundy color suits Sawa-san far better anyway.

50,000 yen is about 450 US dollars.

And Yukihito's father was never named, so I did a little pulling out of my ass to give him one. Actually I looked up Yukihito's VA to see if he had done anything else (because, let's just face it, he doesn't get a great deal of voice time in either the OAV or the Drama CDs) and discovered that one of his other roles was for the lead character in the OAV version of Ichi the Killer. As much as I shudder when I typed that down, I still kinda consider it my own little private joke.

Just a disturbing one.


Alrighty, I'm working on the next full chapter as we speak. Stay tuned!


“Come here for a second,” he gently ordered, drawing Yukihito's head closer until their foreheads touched.