[one-shot] 10 Valentines (Slow & Steady remix)
Title: 10 Valentines (Slow & Steady remix)
Type: One-shot
Word count: 2,956
Rating: G
Pairing: Koyama/Tegoshi
Summary: Tegoshi has changed a lot throughout the years, yet in one respect he stays the same. AU. A remix of Enough by grydo2life, first posted for jentfic_remix Cycle 6 here. Much love to my beta sanjihan, who tried to help me find an answer to the question: “Why does Koyama like Tegoshi anyway?” XD
Kei-chan, that’s how little Tegoshi calls Koyama. The toddler says it with such transparent adoration that makes Koyama feel warm and tingly inside. Nobody else calls him that way, not since he became old enough to be embarrassed by the childishness that the suffix ‘-chan’ entails. He’s almost 10 years old, after all, big enough to be called Kei-kun or simply Keiichiro. But he oddly doesn’t mind Tegoshi using the cute nickname with him. It’s like their special thing together.
Koyama enjoys every moment he spends babysitting Tegoshi at the house across the street from his. Both of Tegoshi’s parents work and Koyama can tell the kid often feels lonely, which is probably part of the reason he quickly becomes attached to Koyama. Before long, Tegoshi’s mother starts calling Koyama over more often, because her son wants “nobody but Kei-chan”.
Once Tegoshi learns the concept of Valentine’s Day, he proudly announces he will present a gift to Koyama. On February 14 the boy fulfills his promise, bestowing a heart roughly cut out of a sheet of glossy paper. Koyama can barely read the squiggly lines that are supposed to spell his name. But when he sees the jubilant smile on Tegoshi’s face, he smiles back and says sincerely, “I love it. Thank you.”
Tegoshi looks like he might just explode from happiness, a rosy tint rising on his cheeks.
As they grow older, the babysitting days become few and far in between, and then they are no more. But they still see each other regularly. Tegoshi gives valentines to his Kei-chan every year and Koyama has come to expect it. It’s a different gift each time: a box of chocolates, a collection of self-penned poems, a pair of knit gloves and a matching hat. Koyama can see the effort and genuine care with which Tegoshi selects his presents, and it speaks volumes of his regard for Koyama.
Koyama’s friends mock him mercilessly about it. Whenever Shige visits his house he asks, “Is your not-so-secret admirer not around?” On Valentine’s Day the boys at school like to compare the presents they get, but Yamashita says to Koyama with a laugh, “Yours don’t count since it’s not from a girl.”
Koyama doesn’t listen to them. He waves it off as a childhood crush, but Tegoshi never seems to grow out of it. Koyama wonders if Tegoshi is reducing his own chances at a real relationship, especially after he becomes a teenager. He should be giving valentines to a nice girl, someone who can return the sentiment.
Then one year the presents stop.
Koyama is so used to a valentine from Tegoshi that it startles him. He gets a homemade chocolate from a girl who works part-time at his family’s ramen shop, but he’s too busy worrying about receiving no presents from Tegoshi and wondering what triggered it. His mother asks him about it and even his teasing friends are surprised. But it feels self-important to actually ask Tegoshi for an explanation, so Koyama does nothing.
Tegoshi comes to dine at the Koyamas’ two weeks later with his parents, and it’s there that Koyama’s mother brings up the question. “Ah, Yuya-kun, you didn’t give Keiichiro a valentine this year!” she pipes up.
Koyama wants to duck under the table and hide there for the rest of the meal. Tegoshi’s parents laugh but the boy himself just smiles. At 16 he is no longer the awkward, shy little kid who had hidden behind Koyama when the other neighborhood boys taunted him. His hair is done in a trendy style and dyed a cool, dark shade of brown. His poise is straighter and his demeanor more assured. Just when he became this confident, Koyama isn’t sure.
“I’m getting a little old for that, I think,” Tegoshi says in a light sort of tone, but Koyama thinks his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“He’s got a girlfriend now,” Tegoshi’s mother says. “Isn’t that right, Yuya?”
Tegoshi groans in protest, the way all teenagers do when their parents see it fit to freely discuss their children’s love life with other people. Koyama listens and smiles good-naturedly like everybody else. Inside, though, it feels bizarre, like the boy he has known all his life had suddenly become a stranger.
He should be glad, anyway. He has had qualms about Tegoshi’s apparent infatuation with him but now the problem seems to have solved itself. Tegoshi is growing up and now dating - and from the way his mother describes her, she sounds like a perfectly nice girl. Koyama has no reason to worry about Tegoshi anymore.
And so he decides to put the matter at the back of his mind and goes about daily life as usual. College keeps him busy and he doesn’t meet Tegoshi as frequently as before. Occasionally he sees the younger boy around with some friends or with a girl by his side, but to Koyama’s bewilderment it seems to be a different girl each time.
He tries to gauge what kind of girls Tegoshi likes but fails; it’s hard to find similarities among them. Sometimes the girl looks feminine, another time it’s a short-haired sporty type. They can be dark or fair, pretty or plain, natural or heavily made up. Either Tegoshi isn’t picky or he doesn’t know what he really wants.
None of the girls stay with him too long. He must have gone through nearly a dozen in less than three years. Koyama finds it hard to believe that the adorable child he babysat not so long ago is turning out to be a bit of a playboy. But he overhears the same thing from Tegoshi’s mother when she comes over for tea and gossip.
“I don’t even know why. Maybe he gets bored easily?” she tells Koyama’s mother, while Koyama purposefully walks slower as he passes the living room. “He never takes any of them home. We hear about one girl, and then suddenly things are over between them and he’s seeing another.”
Koyama and Tegoshi meet every once in a while, but the latter never mentions who he’s seeing at the moment. They don’t talk about girls, really. Their conversations revolve around college, sports, games, manga - light, harmless topics. Koyama realizes he’s dancing around in his speech, not bringing up the issue he really wants to talk about.
“You dyed your hair again,” he says during lunch together one day.
Tegoshi looks up from his yakitori. Self-consciously he touches a strand of his now bright blond hair. “I thought I’d try a new color. What do you think?”
Koyama is a little surprised, not expecting Tegoshi to consider what he thinks to still be of any importance. He replies honestly, “It’s kind of nice.”
The corners of Tegoshi’s lips lift up in a quiet smile, which he tries to hide by taking a sip of his drink. Koyama’s opinion definitely still matters.
“You’ve really changed,” says Koyama.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Like... sometimes I can’t believe you’re the same person.”
Their eyes meet once more, and Tegoshi gazes into Koyama’s searchingly as though he’s looking for something in them. He persists, then seems to give up, his face dropping.
“I’m just me,” he mutters. Koyama doesn’t know how to respond to that, so they both return to their meals in awkward silence.
Later, they bade farewell in front of the restaurant. “I’ll see you around,” Koyama says.
“See you... Koyama-kun.”
Tegoshi smiles a little and waves as he walks away, but instead of waving back Koyama only stares at him with his jaw slightly open. He is now Koyama-kun instead of Kei-chan. It’s a natural development and shouldn’t have bothered him that much; the nickname is too babyish anyway. They are both in university now, young men in an adult world, no longer suited for childhood monikers. But Koyama goes home that day feeling dispirited, like a space in his chest had just become hollow.
Several more years pass without any valentines from Tegoshi. Koyama should be used to it by now, but no. Every year he thinks, maybe this is the year when Tegoshi will try again. But each time the day comes and goes and nothing happens.
Koyama has had a fair share of participation in the dating scene, but none of the girls feel right - he doesn’t feel right. He keeps thinking he had made some kind of mistake along the way and can’t form a lasting bond with another person as a result. In quiet, contemplative moments, he recalls how close he and Tegoshi had been, wondering if he will ever achieve that kind of familiarity with anyone again.
These days Tegoshi has a perm and a toy poodle. Koyama has met the poodle but he’s not yet accustomed to Tegoshi’s curly locks, now back in a darker shade. He wonders if Tegoshi still changes girlfriends like he changes his clothes. In an offhand manner, like it’s just a random topic he brings up for small talk and the answer doesn’t really make a difference, Koyama asks Tegoshi who he’s seeing right now.
The younger man pauses before picking up his dog, lifting its tiny paw and replying cheekily, “I’m seeing Skull-kun.” Koyama laughs along with him, although a nagging feeling in his gut tells him Tegoshi is hiding something.
On New Year’s Eve when he’s 26, Koyama and his family are invited to a party hosted by Tegoshi’s parents. When they arrive, Tegoshi greets them at the door with a smile, and for a moment Koyama sees a brief flash of little Tegoshi, tottering outside with his arms wide open and calling out, “Kei-chan! Kei-chan!”
“Oi,” Koyama’s sister nudges him. “Why are you just standing there?”
Koyama blinks and realizes the weird looks his sister, his mother and Tegoshi are giving him. Shaking his head awkwardly, he follows them inside the house.
More and more guests arrive as the night wears on, and soon the coat hanger is full. Tegoshi brings the coats of newly arrived guests to his room, Koyama helping him. As he enters the bedroom Koyama looks around, vaguely recognizing the place although Tegoshi had made alterations to it throughout the years.
“You still have that wardrobe,” Koyama says, nodding at the direction of an old wooden closet, looking small and outdated compared to a new, larger one standing next to it.
Tegoshi puts the coats he’s carrying on the bed. “Yeah, I can’t bring myself to put it away.”
“You used to hide in there when you were upset, remember?”
Tegoshi smiles as he takes the remaining coats from Koyama’s arms and adds them to the heap. “I would’ve stayed inside for hours if you didn’t coax me to get out.”
“Well, I always knew where you were hiding.”
“You always did.”
Tegoshi’s eyes are fixed on him and Koyama’s heart begins to pound faster for no reason at all. Tegoshi opens his mouth as if wanting to say something, but a voice from the hall interrupts them.
“Yuya, there’s someone outside waiting for you,” Tegoshi’s father says as he whizzes past.
Tegoshi furrows his eyebrows, looking frustrated that his train of thought had just been interrupted. “Who is it?” he calls out.
“I don’t know. A girl.”
Koyama and Tegoshi exchange glances but Koyama quickly averts his eyes again, shuffling his feet uneasily. “You should, um, go see who it is,” he says.
Tegoshi just nods and goes out without a word. Koyama follows him out of the bedroom but makes a turn to the living room to join the others while Tegoshi walks outside to meet his visitor.
It’s useless trying to concentrate and follow the conversation when all Koyama can think about is who Tegoshi’s guest is. A look at his watch tells him Tegoshi and the girl have been outside for more than 20 minutes. Why doesn’t he invite her inside anyway? It must be freezing out there. Koyama stands up and walks to the window, telling himself he just wants to make sure they are both all right.
He can make out Tegoshi’s figure standing near the front gate with the girl in front of him. She has straight, shoulder-length hair and is wearing a thick jacket, skinny jeans and high-heeled boots. The fashionable type, then.
Koyama isn’t sure but it appears the two are arguing. Their postures are tense and the girl’s arms are crossed in front of her chest. She jabs a finger in Tegoshi’s direction, and he throws his hands up in the air in response. She backs up a few steps and covers her face, which seems to cause Tegoshi to be alarmed. He approaches her and gently touches her arm but she swats his hand away and spits out a few final words before turning on her heels and leaving.
Koyama expects Tegoshi to come back inside but he just stands there. He’s not even wearing a jacket. Without thinking, Koyama makes his way to the door and is just grabbing one of the coats on the hanger when the door opens and Tegoshi walks in.
His stare shifts from Koyama to the coat in his hand. “What are you doing?”
“I... I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You’re okay, right? It must be darn cold outside. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Tegoshi chuckles. “You’re babbling. And yes, I’m all right. Did you-” he eyes the older man warily, “You saw us?”
Unable to think of any excuse, Koyama just nods. “I don’t want to pry though,” he quickly adds while putting the coat back on the hanger. “We can just... forget I ever saw it, if you want.”
“No, it’s okay. Only one of those things where she wants something that I can’t give.” Tegoshi frowns a little. “I just wish it didn’t have to end this way.”
Koyama can’t help wondering what it is that Tegoshi can’t give that girl. He’s obviously good-looking, bright, popular, and if the row of trophies from inter-school soccer tournaments and singing contests in the living room are any indication, substantially talented. What else could she want? But then Koyama and Tegoshi share a look and Koyama somehow understands: it’s not that Tegoshi can’t give something to her. He doesn’t want to.
A commotion from the living room distracts them; it sounds like it’s already a few moments before 12 o’clock. “Come on!” Tegoshi pulls Koyama back to the living room, where everybody is counting down the seconds before the New Year rolls in. The atmosphere is high as they all chant as one, “Five... four... three... two... one...”
The room explodes with cheer, horns blowing, confetti thrown overhead. Everyone is hugging and slapping each other on the back. Koyama says to Tegoshi next to him, “Happy New Year.”
Tegoshi turns to him with a smile. Bits of confetti are sticking in his curly hair and his cheeks are flushed, probably from the cold just outside. He had never looked quite this dazzling, eyes shining with warmth as he replies, “Happy New Year, Kei-”
He stops abruptly, the light in his face fading fast. “I mean, Koyama-kun.”
The stinging throb those words cause in Koyama’s chest is too sudden, and Koyama doesn’t spare a second to think before blurting out, “Why not Kei-chan?”
The remark seems to take Tegoshi by surprise. “I just...”
His nerves might fail him any second now so Koyama marches on, “I’m your Kei-chan, right?”
Looking up at him, Tegoshi’s eyes soften and his lips tremble ever so slightly, voice growing quiet as if holding his emotions at bay. “Happy New Year, Kei-chan.”
Then because everybody is doing it, they both move forward around the same time and embrace each other. Koyama can’t remember the last time he held Tegoshi like this, because it’s such a new feeling: Tegoshi’s warm cheek against his neck, his thin but firm arms encircling him, their chests pressed together until Koyama thinks he can feel Tegoshi’s quickening heartbeat, or maybe it’s his own. Somebody throws confetti again over their heads but they barely care.
When Koyama comes home he rummages through his stuff and finds them at the bottom of his closet: those 10 valentines from Tegoshi. Every single card that accompanies the presents has his name written on it: For Kei-chan. All those years and he never really saw it. Even after the presents stopped, Tegoshi still looked at him the same way, the same passion burning steadily in his eyes. The younger man has changed a lot, yet in one respect he stays the same.
Koyama picks up the first valentine, the roughly cut out heart that now looks positively asymmetrical, the color faded and worn, and holds it to his chest.
His heart, Koyama thinks. He gave me his heart.
On March 14 Koyama sends Tegoshi a bunch of fresh white roses with a message and his cell phone number (symbolically scribbled on a crudely cut heart similar to that first valentine years ago) taped to it. A mere crumb compared to 10 years’ worth of presents, and he fears Tegoshi will not respond to it. How can one possibly return all those years of devotion? Whatever Koyama does now may never be enough, perhaps even too late.
But later that night Tegoshi is sitting across from him, a white rose from the bouquet Koyama sent him tucked into the front pocket of his suede jacket. He gazes at Koyama timidly, and Koyama, reading the uncertainty in his expression, puts his hand over Tegoshi’s on the table, hoping to reassure him.
Koyama feels that old familiar tingle when Tegoshi smiles at him just like he used to, that smile reserved only for his Kei-chan.
Type: One-shot
Word count: 2,956
Rating: G
Pairing: Koyama/Tegoshi
Summary: Tegoshi has changed a lot throughout the years, yet in one respect he stays the same. AU. A remix of Enough by grydo2life, first posted for jentfic_remix Cycle 6 here. Much love to my beta sanjihan, who tried to help me find an answer to the question: “Why does Koyama like Tegoshi anyway?” XD
Kei-chan, that’s how little Tegoshi calls Koyama. The toddler says it with such transparent adoration that makes Koyama feel warm and tingly inside. Nobody else calls him that way, not since he became old enough to be embarrassed by the childishness that the suffix ‘-chan’ entails. He’s almost 10 years old, after all, big enough to be called Kei-kun or simply Keiichiro. But he oddly doesn’t mind Tegoshi using the cute nickname with him. It’s like their special thing together.
Koyama enjoys every moment he spends babysitting Tegoshi at the house across the street from his. Both of Tegoshi’s parents work and Koyama can tell the kid often feels lonely, which is probably part of the reason he quickly becomes attached to Koyama. Before long, Tegoshi’s mother starts calling Koyama over more often, because her son wants “nobody but Kei-chan”.
Once Tegoshi learns the concept of Valentine’s Day, he proudly announces he will present a gift to Koyama. On February 14 the boy fulfills his promise, bestowing a heart roughly cut out of a sheet of glossy paper. Koyama can barely read the squiggly lines that are supposed to spell his name. But when he sees the jubilant smile on Tegoshi’s face, he smiles back and says sincerely, “I love it. Thank you.”
Tegoshi looks like he might just explode from happiness, a rosy tint rising on his cheeks.
As they grow older, the babysitting days become few and far in between, and then they are no more. But they still see each other regularly. Tegoshi gives valentines to his Kei-chan every year and Koyama has come to expect it. It’s a different gift each time: a box of chocolates, a collection of self-penned poems, a pair of knit gloves and a matching hat. Koyama can see the effort and genuine care with which Tegoshi selects his presents, and it speaks volumes of his regard for Koyama.
Koyama’s friends mock him mercilessly about it. Whenever Shige visits his house he asks, “Is your not-so-secret admirer not around?” On Valentine’s Day the boys at school like to compare the presents they get, but Yamashita says to Koyama with a laugh, “Yours don’t count since it’s not from a girl.”
Koyama doesn’t listen to them. He waves it off as a childhood crush, but Tegoshi never seems to grow out of it. Koyama wonders if Tegoshi is reducing his own chances at a real relationship, especially after he becomes a teenager. He should be giving valentines to a nice girl, someone who can return the sentiment.
Then one year the presents stop.
Koyama is so used to a valentine from Tegoshi that it startles him. He gets a homemade chocolate from a girl who works part-time at his family’s ramen shop, but he’s too busy worrying about receiving no presents from Tegoshi and wondering what triggered it. His mother asks him about it and even his teasing friends are surprised. But it feels self-important to actually ask Tegoshi for an explanation, so Koyama does nothing.
Tegoshi comes to dine at the Koyamas’ two weeks later with his parents, and it’s there that Koyama’s mother brings up the question. “Ah, Yuya-kun, you didn’t give Keiichiro a valentine this year!” she pipes up.
Koyama wants to duck under the table and hide there for the rest of the meal. Tegoshi’s parents laugh but the boy himself just smiles. At 16 he is no longer the awkward, shy little kid who had hidden behind Koyama when the other neighborhood boys taunted him. His hair is done in a trendy style and dyed a cool, dark shade of brown. His poise is straighter and his demeanor more assured. Just when he became this confident, Koyama isn’t sure.
“I’m getting a little old for that, I think,” Tegoshi says in a light sort of tone, but Koyama thinks his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“He’s got a girlfriend now,” Tegoshi’s mother says. “Isn’t that right, Yuya?”
Tegoshi groans in protest, the way all teenagers do when their parents see it fit to freely discuss their children’s love life with other people. Koyama listens and smiles good-naturedly like everybody else. Inside, though, it feels bizarre, like the boy he has known all his life had suddenly become a stranger.
He should be glad, anyway. He has had qualms about Tegoshi’s apparent infatuation with him but now the problem seems to have solved itself. Tegoshi is growing up and now dating - and from the way his mother describes her, she sounds like a perfectly nice girl. Koyama has no reason to worry about Tegoshi anymore.
And so he decides to put the matter at the back of his mind and goes about daily life as usual. College keeps him busy and he doesn’t meet Tegoshi as frequently as before. Occasionally he sees the younger boy around with some friends or with a girl by his side, but to Koyama’s bewilderment it seems to be a different girl each time.
He tries to gauge what kind of girls Tegoshi likes but fails; it’s hard to find similarities among them. Sometimes the girl looks feminine, another time it’s a short-haired sporty type. They can be dark or fair, pretty or plain, natural or heavily made up. Either Tegoshi isn’t picky or he doesn’t know what he really wants.
None of the girls stay with him too long. He must have gone through nearly a dozen in less than three years. Koyama finds it hard to believe that the adorable child he babysat not so long ago is turning out to be a bit of a playboy. But he overhears the same thing from Tegoshi’s mother when she comes over for tea and gossip.
“I don’t even know why. Maybe he gets bored easily?” she tells Koyama’s mother, while Koyama purposefully walks slower as he passes the living room. “He never takes any of them home. We hear about one girl, and then suddenly things are over between them and he’s seeing another.”
Koyama and Tegoshi meet every once in a while, but the latter never mentions who he’s seeing at the moment. They don’t talk about girls, really. Their conversations revolve around college, sports, games, manga - light, harmless topics. Koyama realizes he’s dancing around in his speech, not bringing up the issue he really wants to talk about.
“You dyed your hair again,” he says during lunch together one day.
Tegoshi looks up from his yakitori. Self-consciously he touches a strand of his now bright blond hair. “I thought I’d try a new color. What do you think?”
Koyama is a little surprised, not expecting Tegoshi to consider what he thinks to still be of any importance. He replies honestly, “It’s kind of nice.”
The corners of Tegoshi’s lips lift up in a quiet smile, which he tries to hide by taking a sip of his drink. Koyama’s opinion definitely still matters.
“You’ve really changed,” says Koyama.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Like... sometimes I can’t believe you’re the same person.”
Their eyes meet once more, and Tegoshi gazes into Koyama’s searchingly as though he’s looking for something in them. He persists, then seems to give up, his face dropping.
“I’m just me,” he mutters. Koyama doesn’t know how to respond to that, so they both return to their meals in awkward silence.
Later, they bade farewell in front of the restaurant. “I’ll see you around,” Koyama says.
“See you... Koyama-kun.”
Tegoshi smiles a little and waves as he walks away, but instead of waving back Koyama only stares at him with his jaw slightly open. He is now Koyama-kun instead of Kei-chan. It’s a natural development and shouldn’t have bothered him that much; the nickname is too babyish anyway. They are both in university now, young men in an adult world, no longer suited for childhood monikers. But Koyama goes home that day feeling dispirited, like a space in his chest had just become hollow.
Several more years pass without any valentines from Tegoshi. Koyama should be used to it by now, but no. Every year he thinks, maybe this is the year when Tegoshi will try again. But each time the day comes and goes and nothing happens.
Koyama has had a fair share of participation in the dating scene, but none of the girls feel right - he doesn’t feel right. He keeps thinking he had made some kind of mistake along the way and can’t form a lasting bond with another person as a result. In quiet, contemplative moments, he recalls how close he and Tegoshi had been, wondering if he will ever achieve that kind of familiarity with anyone again.
These days Tegoshi has a perm and a toy poodle. Koyama has met the poodle but he’s not yet accustomed to Tegoshi’s curly locks, now back in a darker shade. He wonders if Tegoshi still changes girlfriends like he changes his clothes. In an offhand manner, like it’s just a random topic he brings up for small talk and the answer doesn’t really make a difference, Koyama asks Tegoshi who he’s seeing right now.
The younger man pauses before picking up his dog, lifting its tiny paw and replying cheekily, “I’m seeing Skull-kun.” Koyama laughs along with him, although a nagging feeling in his gut tells him Tegoshi is hiding something.
On New Year’s Eve when he’s 26, Koyama and his family are invited to a party hosted by Tegoshi’s parents. When they arrive, Tegoshi greets them at the door with a smile, and for a moment Koyama sees a brief flash of little Tegoshi, tottering outside with his arms wide open and calling out, “Kei-chan! Kei-chan!”
“Oi,” Koyama’s sister nudges him. “Why are you just standing there?”
Koyama blinks and realizes the weird looks his sister, his mother and Tegoshi are giving him. Shaking his head awkwardly, he follows them inside the house.
More and more guests arrive as the night wears on, and soon the coat hanger is full. Tegoshi brings the coats of newly arrived guests to his room, Koyama helping him. As he enters the bedroom Koyama looks around, vaguely recognizing the place although Tegoshi had made alterations to it throughout the years.
“You still have that wardrobe,” Koyama says, nodding at the direction of an old wooden closet, looking small and outdated compared to a new, larger one standing next to it.
Tegoshi puts the coats he’s carrying on the bed. “Yeah, I can’t bring myself to put it away.”
“You used to hide in there when you were upset, remember?”
Tegoshi smiles as he takes the remaining coats from Koyama’s arms and adds them to the heap. “I would’ve stayed inside for hours if you didn’t coax me to get out.”
“Well, I always knew where you were hiding.”
“You always did.”
Tegoshi’s eyes are fixed on him and Koyama’s heart begins to pound faster for no reason at all. Tegoshi opens his mouth as if wanting to say something, but a voice from the hall interrupts them.
“Yuya, there’s someone outside waiting for you,” Tegoshi’s father says as he whizzes past.
Tegoshi furrows his eyebrows, looking frustrated that his train of thought had just been interrupted. “Who is it?” he calls out.
“I don’t know. A girl.”
Koyama and Tegoshi exchange glances but Koyama quickly averts his eyes again, shuffling his feet uneasily. “You should, um, go see who it is,” he says.
Tegoshi just nods and goes out without a word. Koyama follows him out of the bedroom but makes a turn to the living room to join the others while Tegoshi walks outside to meet his visitor.
It’s useless trying to concentrate and follow the conversation when all Koyama can think about is who Tegoshi’s guest is. A look at his watch tells him Tegoshi and the girl have been outside for more than 20 minutes. Why doesn’t he invite her inside anyway? It must be freezing out there. Koyama stands up and walks to the window, telling himself he just wants to make sure they are both all right.
He can make out Tegoshi’s figure standing near the front gate with the girl in front of him. She has straight, shoulder-length hair and is wearing a thick jacket, skinny jeans and high-heeled boots. The fashionable type, then.
Koyama isn’t sure but it appears the two are arguing. Their postures are tense and the girl’s arms are crossed in front of her chest. She jabs a finger in Tegoshi’s direction, and he throws his hands up in the air in response. She backs up a few steps and covers her face, which seems to cause Tegoshi to be alarmed. He approaches her and gently touches her arm but she swats his hand away and spits out a few final words before turning on her heels and leaving.
Koyama expects Tegoshi to come back inside but he just stands there. He’s not even wearing a jacket. Without thinking, Koyama makes his way to the door and is just grabbing one of the coats on the hanger when the door opens and Tegoshi walks in.
His stare shifts from Koyama to the coat in his hand. “What are you doing?”
“I... I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You’re okay, right? It must be darn cold outside. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Tegoshi chuckles. “You’re babbling. And yes, I’m all right. Did you-” he eyes the older man warily, “You saw us?”
Unable to think of any excuse, Koyama just nods. “I don’t want to pry though,” he quickly adds while putting the coat back on the hanger. “We can just... forget I ever saw it, if you want.”
“No, it’s okay. Only one of those things where she wants something that I can’t give.” Tegoshi frowns a little. “I just wish it didn’t have to end this way.”
Koyama can’t help wondering what it is that Tegoshi can’t give that girl. He’s obviously good-looking, bright, popular, and if the row of trophies from inter-school soccer tournaments and singing contests in the living room are any indication, substantially talented. What else could she want? But then Koyama and Tegoshi share a look and Koyama somehow understands: it’s not that Tegoshi can’t give something to her. He doesn’t want to.
A commotion from the living room distracts them; it sounds like it’s already a few moments before 12 o’clock. “Come on!” Tegoshi pulls Koyama back to the living room, where everybody is counting down the seconds before the New Year rolls in. The atmosphere is high as they all chant as one, “Five... four... three... two... one...”
The room explodes with cheer, horns blowing, confetti thrown overhead. Everyone is hugging and slapping each other on the back. Koyama says to Tegoshi next to him, “Happy New Year.”
Tegoshi turns to him with a smile. Bits of confetti are sticking in his curly hair and his cheeks are flushed, probably from the cold just outside. He had never looked quite this dazzling, eyes shining with warmth as he replies, “Happy New Year, Kei-”
He stops abruptly, the light in his face fading fast. “I mean, Koyama-kun.”
The stinging throb those words cause in Koyama’s chest is too sudden, and Koyama doesn’t spare a second to think before blurting out, “Why not Kei-chan?”
The remark seems to take Tegoshi by surprise. “I just...”
His nerves might fail him any second now so Koyama marches on, “I’m your Kei-chan, right?”
Looking up at him, Tegoshi’s eyes soften and his lips tremble ever so slightly, voice growing quiet as if holding his emotions at bay. “Happy New Year, Kei-chan.”
Then because everybody is doing it, they both move forward around the same time and embrace each other. Koyama can’t remember the last time he held Tegoshi like this, because it’s such a new feeling: Tegoshi’s warm cheek against his neck, his thin but firm arms encircling him, their chests pressed together until Koyama thinks he can feel Tegoshi’s quickening heartbeat, or maybe it’s his own. Somebody throws confetti again over their heads but they barely care.
When Koyama comes home he rummages through his stuff and finds them at the bottom of his closet: those 10 valentines from Tegoshi. Every single card that accompanies the presents has his name written on it: For Kei-chan. All those years and he never really saw it. Even after the presents stopped, Tegoshi still looked at him the same way, the same passion burning steadily in his eyes. The younger man has changed a lot, yet in one respect he stays the same.
Koyama picks up the first valentine, the roughly cut out heart that now looks positively asymmetrical, the color faded and worn, and holds it to his chest.
His heart, Koyama thinks. He gave me his heart.
On March 14 Koyama sends Tegoshi a bunch of fresh white roses with a message and his cell phone number (symbolically scribbled on a crudely cut heart similar to that first valentine years ago) taped to it. A mere crumb compared to 10 years’ worth of presents, and he fears Tegoshi will not respond to it. How can one possibly return all those years of devotion? Whatever Koyama does now may never be enough, perhaps even too late.
But later that night Tegoshi is sitting across from him, a white rose from the bouquet Koyama sent him tucked into the front pocket of his suede jacket. He gazes at Koyama timidly, and Koyama, reading the uncertainty in his expression, puts his hand over Tegoshi’s on the table, hoping to reassure him.
Koyama feels that old familiar tingle when Tegoshi smiles at him just like he used to, that smile reserved only for his Kei-chan.