Second Chances

Part 23

Kiyoi's day started much later than Hira's. It felt odd, when Hira turned to him, pressing an old fashioned key in his hand (the gate key) with a piece of paper (the code to the house) and wrapping both his hands around it. 

His eyes bored deep into his, as he gravely stated, "Stay as long as you want." Before Kiyoi could react, Hira had kissed his forehead (damn his height) and was walking down the path to the gate. He heard the lock "snick", and then saw the dark head bob above the gate. 

Suddenly, his legs gave way and he dropped to the highly polished wood of the porch. What had he done in the past twenty-four hours? Tea splashed and the cup tipped dangerously.

No, he knew what he'd done! All the physical aches and pains in his body couldn't let him forget and a pale blush crossed his cheeks. A slow grin appeared, as he remembered each touch, each kiss... 

Every word of love Hira said. 

"I'm going to..." Kiyoi started, then stumbled to a dead stop. Aoshima KNEW him, knew him too fucking well, as did the cast and crew. "Oh fuck, what am I going to do?" He was good, but HE was NO Hira, and he knew that. He projected how he felt, at least that's what they said, which made him a good actor. 

Tea sploshed out of the cup, as he set it down gently. 

"I'm so screwed!" The words were whispered softly, as he stared at the large green bush that was just beginning to flower. The air was gently scented, reminding him of summer break, surrounded by clingy classmates and fireworks. 

The summer he fell in love with Hira. He closed his eyes, and breathed deeply, letting the scent of the flowers, take him back. "Hira... WE are both screwed!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Hira floated to the university, time passed quickly in each class, unlike the past few weeks. He heard his lectures, taking notes efficiently, the but his classmates were unimportant. It wasn't until his lunchbreak and his phone kept dinging, calling repeatedly for his attention, that his good mood began to deteriorate.

With his deadpan face, he pulled it from his inner pocket and looked at who was messaging him. He knew Kiyoi preferred to hear his voice, so it wasn't anyone he wanted to talk with. A small frown, but only if you knew him really, really well, would you have seen it, crossed his face. 

Reminders from his seniors in the Photography club, all five of them, to be at the meeting today. Why, he wondered. He was still a member, even if it was in name only, to support Kayama. Why were they harassing him? 

Shoving the phone  back in his pocket, he stood up, putting his bento box into his back and tossing his trash into the appropriate recycle container. He took a deep breath and walked deliberately to his next class. 

Across the quad, Kayama sighed. Once upon a time, he would have felt comfortable, even happy to run up and greet his friend. Now, with his broken heart, still not healed, he didn't know how to act around Hira. His eyes narrowed as he watched Hira walking away. 

There was a difference in his walk. More confidence, even if there wasn't much else showing in his expression. His phone beeped. He pulled it out and a low growl escaped without him hearing. 

Be at the meeting. Drag Hira if needed.

"Who the fuck does he think I am? A fucking dog?" Kayama tossed the phone on the table and rubbed his temples. He was so damn confused. The senior kept calling and texting him, all week, even to the point of taking him out drinking and he'd passed out, waking up in the senior's bed.

He took a deep breath but it just kept getting harder to breath easy. The guilt he was feeling since he'd told him about Hira was getting heavier and heavier, weighing on his chest... and he STILL hadn't come to terms with the fact that he had sold Hira out.