Expression

Chapter Forty-two

Noriaki frowned at the keys before him. "I can't remember this."

"You'll be able to." Marco smiled reassuringly. "I assure you, my first attempts at playing the piano were horribly embarrassing."

"... You're sliding into that weird Victorian speech again."

"Oh. You're right. Sorry. I just feel so ashamed even thinking of back then. So, I mean. Anyways, don't think that this reflects an inability to learn or anything. I'm sure it's discouraging, with your perfectionism. Starting out with something is so difficult like that."

"It is. On the other hand... I just don't feel it would be worth it to acquire this skill automatically. If I could learn it immediately, I don't know that I would."

"Why not?"

"It's hard for me to explain. Not long ago, I would have said differently, I think. But I came to realize something. The accomplishment itself only means so much. It's something that happens once, and we get some temporary high from it. That's not how we live, though. We live by the struggle, the process we go through to get those accomplishments. Ultimately, what sustains us is the doing . The challenge."

"Huh." Marco looked down at the keyboard, a slightly amused grin on his lips. "I'd still take the immediate knowledge, though. It would be really easy to impress people, you know?" There was a mocking self-awareness in his tone that Noriaki couldn't help but laugh at.

The apartment looked a little different from when he had last visited. There was some decoration, paintings that Marco had purchased at some point and potted plants that struggled to hang on. Some attention had finally turned inwards.

"It looks nice here," Noriaki said. "You have good taste."

"Thanks. It would be nicer if I actually remembered to take care of the plants."

"They're still alive; that's better than I could do."

"Really? I would have expected you to care for them meticulously."

"I only would have remembered to water them at times when I wasn't home, honestly."

"Hah. Hey, how's your place looking anyways?"

"Ah..." Noriaki rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly, nowhere near as decorated as this. I just have furniture. And even then, only because Jotaro helped me pick it out and set it up."

"Aww."

"Aw?"

"That's sweet."

" ... Shut up."

"It's true."

"I–" Noriaki opened his mouth to protest, but couldn't find the right words. He breathed in. "I don't know what to do about him."

"What do you mean? It's obvious the two of you love each other. Is there something holding you back?"

"You could say that, yes."

"Afraid?"

"Yeah. I don't know how to be that close with anyone, anyways. It's just more vulnerability than I'm used to."

"You're worried something bad will happen?"

He nodded.

"You never can know the future."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

"It's just–" Marco shrugged. "You have the choice to make this move or not. If you don't, you'll always be hanging in this limbo of the option being open, but never one that you take—you'll always be wondering how things would go if you were in a relationship with Jotaro, as I'm sure you do now. You won't have to wonder if you do this. You won't have to wonder about how things would have gone otherwise; that's what you're living through now. And you know how anguishing it is, constantly dwelling over how things might be. Even failure might be easier than that. The pain of that can fade; this, aas long as things as they stay as they are, much less so."