When Kiyoharu wakes up, he has twelve missed calls, all five voicemails that his plan permits, and twenty-six text messages.
He reads the messages:
‘that took way longer than I thought it would I’m so so sorry I can’t believe that took so long but I hope you got back to your hotel okay’
‘hey are you awake? I know its super late’
‘Im really sorry, I know I took forever’
‘it was super terrible and I dont even know how to sum it up for a text but things were really REALLY TERRIBLE’
‘and Im so exhausted’
‘but I know youre exhausted too’
‘I know I made you wait forever Im super sorry’
‘Im really, really sorry’
‘when you get up did you wanna call me or something?’
‘dont worry if its late or early or whatever just go ahead and call Ill pick up okay’
‘are we okay’
‘Im so sorry I bailed on you like that’
‘this was totally my fault’
‘are we going to talk about it?’
‘the kissing thing’
‘we dont have to talk about it’
‘Im kind of freaking out here’
‘was it weird’
‘are we weird’
‘just call me back ok’
‘or you can text’
‘texting is totally ok’
‘I just need to make sure youre alive and not dead’
‘just let me know okaay’
‘we don’t have to talk about the other stuff’
‘hey?’
He deletes the voicemails without listening to them, and then turns his phone back off.
***
The train ride back to Osaka passes by in a daze. Sometimes Kiyoharu stares out the window. At some point he tries to nap, but he’s too wired on cheap coffee and a sugary breakfast bun to do more than sit with his eyes closed. Finally he pulls out the book of theory he started reading on the trip east, but when the train pulls into his station he realises he hasn’t read a single word.
Kiyoharu goes home, and then, with the door locked behind him and all of his problems safely on the other side, he staggers over to his couch, sags down upon it, and passes out.
***
The clatter wakes him up.
He bolts upright, rubbing his eyes to try and clear them, but his major problem is that it’s nearly pitch black, the only light coming from the faint glow of the LCD screen on the front of his phone as it vibrates across the floor.
He leans over and reaches for his phone before he can think better of it, but with it buzzing in his hand he does have a moment to think.
He doesn’t think better of it. Instead he draws a long, even breath, then flips open his handset.
“Hello,” Kiyoharu says.
“Oh thank God hi,” Shindou blurts out all at once. “Hi! Hi! Hey, it’s me,” he says unnecessarily.
“Yeah, I know,” Kiyoharu says.
“Oh,” Shindou says. “Yeah. Well, um. Did you get my messages?”
“I’ve been busy,” Kiyoharu says instead.
“Oh,” Shindou says again. “I mean yeah, of course, you had to travel and all that. So, um...” he trails off before sucking in a sharp breath. “So stop me whenever because otherwise I’m just gonna say everything; I am so super, super, super sorry about last night; I totally did not mean to leave you hanging like that and if I could take it back I would in an instantly and I was a huge dick and I’m really, really, really sorry,” Shindou says all in one breath.
“Thanks,” Kiyoharu says.
“Because I really, really wish I’d just let him go because I really didn’t--I mean, holy crap, things were really--like, things did not go--it was bad,” Shindou says, finally. “It was bad. It was really not good. It was bad.”
Time to cut to the chase. “Did you kiss him?” Kiyoharu asks, because that’s the only question that matters.
“Did he call you?” Shindou asks, voice suddenly strangled, which means yes. Shindou did. Shindou kissed Touya, of course he did, because Touya’s his rival/boyfriend/whatever now and Shindou never came back.
“No,” Kiyoharu says flatly.
“Because it wasn’t like that at all, and--wait, he didn’t? Who told you? Oh my God, was it Waya? Does Waya know?” Shindou asks, panicked.
“I guessed. Not really long-shot odds,” Kiyoharu says. “Look, today was a really long day and I have a game tomorrow, so if that’s all you wanted to say--” he starts, but Shindou cuts him off.
“I missed you,” Shindou blurts out. “I was dealing with Touya--with his feelings, or whatever, and he was crying, and then I was crying, and--oh crap, don’t ever tell him I told you he was crying; he’ll kill me,” Shindou says, though right now that sounds like a tidy way to solve the two biggest problems in Kiyoharu’s life. “But it just--I mean, it was probably the right call to go after him and sort things out but the whole time I was with him I just wanted to go back to you and go back and finish our day where we got to go do fun stuff and hang out for longer than five hours at a job every blue moon, because--because you kissed me back, right? I was freaking out all day if I should just confess to you or whatever and I was so paranoid it was all in my head but you kissed me back,” Shindou says, sucking in a sharp breath.
Kiyoharu wets his lip. “This is--this is not a good conversation to have,” he says at last. “There’s no point. There’s literally no point. Even if something was going to happen last night, it didn’t happen, and we’re probably not even going to see each other for another three months, more than that depending on how prelims go,” he says carefully.
“But something could have happened, right?” Shindou says, voice bright as he leaps upon the possibility. “If I’d stayed. Something could have happened. I’m into you, and you’re into me, and something could have happened,” he says.
“Shindou, just--just stop, okay?” Kiyoharu begs, the words so difficult to dredge up from within him that his voice cracks in the middle. “This is not a good idea. It’s a terrible idea. You’re in frigging Tokyo, okay?”
“Actually,” Shindou says quickly before hesitating. “Um, actually...” he trails off.
Kiyoharu doesn’t dare try to parse that himself in case he ends up reading something ridiculously unrealistic into it. “Actually...?” he prompts.
“Knock knock?” Shindou asks weakly, and then is echoed by two sharp raps on his front door. Kiyoharu looks up reflexively, but of course the closed door reveals nothing.
Kiyoharu lets out a hiccuping laugh before he can catch himself. “Are you--are you serious?”
“Uh, yeah. I thought it--well, you’d already left the hotel by the time I thought to call the front desk and you still weren’t answering my calls so I didn’t really have any way to keep you in Tokyo, so I really only had one option, right?” Shindou asks. “But, um, I can see how that’s maybe kind of crazy, so if you wanna keep the door locked and call the cops, then you can totally do that,” he says, and he definitely sounds embarrassed.
“I’m hanging up,” Kiyoharu says, and snaps shut his phone. He crosses the living room with three long strides and throws the deadbolt before unlocking the door, revealing Shindou Hikaru on his doorstep, of all places.
“Hi,” Kiyoharu says.
“Uh, hi,” Shindou says, biting his lower lip as he shoves his phone in his back pocket.
“Do you wanna come in?” Kiyoharu asks, and the look of pure relief that dawns on Hikaru’s face is every bit as bright as his name.
Re: Five reasons Yashiro won't answer Hikaru's phone calls any more, 4 part 2
He reads the messages:
‘that took way longer than I thought it would I’m so so sorry I can’t believe that took so long but I hope you got back to your hotel okay’
‘hey are you awake? I know its super late’
‘Im really sorry, I know I took forever’
‘it was super terrible and I dont even know how to sum it up for a text but things were really REALLY TERRIBLE’
‘and Im so exhausted’
‘but I know youre exhausted too’
‘I know I made you wait forever Im super sorry’
‘Im really, really sorry’
‘when you get up did you wanna call me or something?’
‘dont worry if its late or early or whatever just go ahead and call Ill pick up okay’
‘are we okay’
‘Im so sorry I bailed on you like that’
‘this was totally my fault’
‘are we going to talk about it?’
‘the kissing thing’
‘we dont have to talk about it’
‘Im kind of freaking out here’
‘was it weird’
‘are we weird’
‘just call me back ok’
‘or you can text’
‘texting is totally ok’
‘I just need to make sure youre alive and not dead’
‘just let me know okaay’
‘we don’t have to talk about the other stuff’
‘hey?’
He deletes the voicemails without listening to them, and then turns his phone back off.
***
The train ride back to Osaka passes by in a daze. Sometimes Kiyoharu stares out the window. At some point he tries to nap, but he’s too wired on cheap coffee and a sugary breakfast bun to do more than sit with his eyes closed. Finally he pulls out the book of theory he started reading on the trip east, but when the train pulls into his station he realises he hasn’t read a single word.
Kiyoharu goes home, and then, with the door locked behind him and all of his problems safely on the other side, he staggers over to his couch, sags down upon it, and passes out.
***
The clatter wakes him up.
He bolts upright, rubbing his eyes to try and clear them, but his major problem is that it’s nearly pitch black, the only light coming from the faint glow of the LCD screen on the front of his phone as it vibrates across the floor.
He leans over and reaches for his phone before he can think better of it, but with it buzzing in his hand he does have a moment to think.
He doesn’t think better of it. Instead he draws a long, even breath, then flips open his handset.
“Hello,” Kiyoharu says.
“Oh thank God hi,” Shindou blurts out all at once. “Hi! Hi! Hey, it’s me,” he says unnecessarily.
“Yeah, I know,” Kiyoharu says.
“Oh,” Shindou says. “Yeah. Well, um. Did you get my messages?”
“I’ve been busy,” Kiyoharu says instead.
“Oh,” Shindou says again. “I mean yeah, of course, you had to travel and all that. So, um...” he trails off before sucking in a sharp breath. “So stop me whenever because otherwise I’m just gonna say everything; I am so super, super, super sorry about last night; I totally did not mean to leave you hanging like that and if I could take it back I would in an instantly and I was a huge dick and I’m really, really, really sorry,” Shindou says all in one breath.
“Thanks,” Kiyoharu says.
“Because I really, really wish I’d just let him go because I really didn’t--I mean, holy crap, things were really--like, things did not go--it was bad,” Shindou says, finally. “It was bad. It was really not good. It was bad.”
Time to cut to the chase. “Did you kiss him?” Kiyoharu asks, because that’s the only question that matters.
“Did he call you?” Shindou asks, voice suddenly strangled, which means yes. Shindou did. Shindou kissed Touya, of course he did, because Touya’s his rival/boyfriend/whatever now and Shindou never came back.
“No,” Kiyoharu says flatly.
“Because it wasn’t like that at all, and--wait, he didn’t? Who told you? Oh my God, was it Waya? Does Waya know?” Shindou asks, panicked.
“I guessed. Not really long-shot odds,” Kiyoharu says. “Look, today was a really long day and I have a game tomorrow, so if that’s all you wanted to say--” he starts, but Shindou cuts him off.
“I missed you,” Shindou blurts out. “I was dealing with Touya--with his feelings, or whatever, and he was crying, and then I was crying, and--oh crap, don’t ever tell him I told you he was crying; he’ll kill me,” Shindou says, though right now that sounds like a tidy way to solve the two biggest problems in Kiyoharu’s life. “But it just--I mean, it was probably the right call to go after him and sort things out but the whole time I was with him I just wanted to go back to you and go back and finish our day where we got to go do fun stuff and hang out for longer than five hours at a job every blue moon, because--because you kissed me back, right? I was freaking out all day if I should just confess to you or whatever and I was so paranoid it was all in my head but you kissed me back,” Shindou says, sucking in a sharp breath.
Kiyoharu wets his lip. “This is--this is not a good conversation to have,” he says at last. “There’s no point. There’s literally no point. Even if something was going to happen last night, it didn’t happen, and we’re probably not even going to see each other for another three months, more than that depending on how prelims go,” he says carefully.
“But something could have happened, right?” Shindou says, voice bright as he leaps upon the possibility. “If I’d stayed. Something could have happened. I’m into you, and you’re into me, and something could have happened,” he says.
“Shindou, just--just stop, okay?” Kiyoharu begs, the words so difficult to dredge up from within him that his voice cracks in the middle. “This is not a good idea. It’s a terrible idea. You’re in frigging Tokyo, okay?”
“Actually,” Shindou says quickly before hesitating. “Um, actually...” he trails off.
Kiyoharu doesn’t dare try to parse that himself in case he ends up reading something ridiculously unrealistic into it. “Actually...?” he prompts.
“Knock knock?” Shindou asks weakly, and then is echoed by two sharp raps on his front door. Kiyoharu looks up reflexively, but of course the closed door reveals nothing.
Kiyoharu lets out a hiccuping laugh before he can catch himself. “Are you--are you serious?”
“Uh, yeah. I thought it--well, you’d already left the hotel by the time I thought to call the front desk and you still weren’t answering my calls so I didn’t really have any way to keep you in Tokyo, so I really only had one option, right?” Shindou asks. “But, um, I can see how that’s maybe kind of crazy, so if you wanna keep the door locked and call the cops, then you can totally do that,” he says, and he definitely sounds embarrassed.
“I’m hanging up,” Kiyoharu says, and snaps shut his phone. He crosses the living room with three long strides and throws the deadbolt before unlocking the door, revealing Shindou Hikaru on his doorstep, of all places.
“Hi,” Kiyoharu says.
“Uh, hi,” Shindou says, biting his lower lip as he shoves his phone in his back pocket.
“Do you wanna come in?” Kiyoharu asks, and the look of pure relief that dawns on Hikaru’s face is every bit as bright as his name.