Outline of a Perfect Image (Masuda/Yamashita, 2/2)

[digitalized_]

Outline of a Perfect Image
Masuda Takahisa/Yamashita Tomohisa

PART ONE >>

. . . . . . . . . .

"You're insane!" Masuda argues loudly.

Yamapi grins. That's what makes the idea so enthralling. This way, everything would be in his control. No more leaving things up to other people, namely ones whose family name is something like Akaki.

"That's why it'll work. Just promise me you'll help me through it."

Masuda glares at him, but the worry in his eyes lessens its effect. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head? You can't perform surgery on yourself."

"Sure I can, I won't be the first. I'll need to call in an anaesthesiologist since I can't do that myself, but you've seen me do the surgery. Since it's all through computer lens, it's exactly the same as operating on someone else."

"But it's your leg!" Masuda screeches, "What if something goes wrong? What if - I don't really know but what if?"

"You trusted me when I was doing it on someone else," Yamapi points out.

"That's because it was someone else!"

"And like I said, it won't be any different." Yamapi says, "You can continue working with that Akaki guy all you like. Just promise you'll help me get through this, too."

Masuda sinks into his chair and quiets down, a position Yamapi recognizes as his thinking pose. Yamapi doesn't try to rush Masuda, because anyone who's ever spent a minimal amount of time with Masuda would quickly realize that Masuda hates being rushed. The best thing to do now is to allow Masuda to think things through in his own pace.

"If only I walked you out that day," Masuda whispers.

Yamapi shrugs, because there's nothing to say when people begin to blame themselves. Masuda started apologizing the moment Yamapi phoned him for the first time after the accident, and no amount of soothing had stopped the young man. Now, Yamapi is resigned to keeping silent and hoping that Masuda will get over this phase before Yamapi has to do something dramatic.

"Then help me," he says.

Masuda bites his lower lip, and from the way he doesn't reply, Yamapi knows he's already convinced the guy. Masuda's silence is only to postpone the inevitable. Yamapi wonders when he started trying to decipher Masuda's every move. Masuda is like a puzzle -- every time he unravels a piece, there are more parts that continues to confuse him.

"How did you manage to convince your mother, anyway?" Masuda asks, "I could hear her yelling in the background when you called me."

Yamapi laughs, "I didn't. I just managed to convince her that I'm enough of an adult for her to go home and let me handle everything myself."

"That's not fair," Masuda pouts. "Now she's gonna blame me too, if things go wrong."

"That wouldn't happen," Yamapi says decisively, "You said so yourself. Regeneration is usually just a test of determinedness. I'm definitely going to walk within a month, and you are helping me. Right?"

Masuda looks away, obviously avoiding looking into Yamapi's eyes. Nevertheless, Yamapi puts on his best pleading face, knowing Masuda can't avoid him forever. In the mean time, he also fiddles with the panels on his floating chair's controller, going slightly up and down and around to catch Masuda's attention.

Sure enough, Yamapi finally catches Masuda's eyes, and he knows he's won from the resigned look on Masuda.

"Right," Masuda says. "But you have to promise me something in return."

At his wish finally granted, Yamapi doesn't hesitate to agree, "Anything."

"Listen to my requests when it concerns my expertise. And let me help you, whenever I think you need it, not just when you think you need me."

Masuda says this with a tentative smile, but Yamapi could hear the authoritative voice behind the harmless words. This is a side of Masuda he doesn't get to meet often, the side that reveals his dedication towards his work, the side that has full knowledge of what he's doing and isn't afraid to show it.

"Of course," Yamapi nods. He's not stupid enough to refuse professional advice.

"Then let me massage your leg right now," Masuda says.

Yamapi blinks. He didn't think Masuda would make a request this soon. Not that he has anything against massages, and he has no reason to turn down a free (probably, Masuda wouldn't charge him, would he?) massage.

When Yamapi doesn't reply immediately, Masuda whines, "You promised!"

Yamapi smiles, "I'm not turning you down. Just surprised, that's all. Where?"

"Your leg?" Masuda answers questioningly.

Masuda clearly misunderstood his question. It's Yamapi's fault for not stating the question clearer, but Yamapi feels like laughing all the same.

"I mean, where should we do this? By the way, is this to help blood circulation?" he asks, making a wild guess.

"Yeah," Masuda answers, "it also helps you...get used to, um, your leg. That...isn't, uh, there right now, but sometimes - not always! - a body doesn't get that. And I think we can do it here? Your chair can bend down to turn into a bed, right?"

"Do it?" Yamapi says teasingly.

It was just a few days ago, but after being tranquilized after the accident and waking up, the last time he saw Masuda feels like forever ago. He briefly thinks about Masuda's crush on Tegoshi and wonders if that went anywhere, but there's no way to bring it up without sounding overly nosy.

Predictably, Masuda blushes. At the very least, he can still make Masuda flutter with words. It's a small victory comparing to the first time he met Masuda, but it's a victory nonetheless.

"I didn't mean it that way!" Masuda sputters.

Yamapi's grin turns into full blown laughter when Masuda begins moving his arms to emphasize his point. He misses this, he thinks -- just laughing and not having to worry about his career, his experiments and now the new addition of worrying about his body.

He's alive. He should focus on that.

And Yamapi's glad to be alive. People don't often die from vehicle-related accidents on Aurora, both because of the possibility of a vehicle failing being fairly small and because of the preservation devices implanted in all citizens and the safety nets along all roads. But it's still possible, if a body is crushed beyond recognition that even preservation isn't enough to save it.

Plus Yamapi has the means to fix the situation himself. It's an opportunity, if Yamapi looks at it from an extremely optimistic viewpoint.

After all, Yamapi had been curious about what it would be like getting a new arm. The irony is not lost on him, and Yamapi wonders if somewhere someone is laughing at him.

"Yamashita-kun?" Masuda prods.

"Yeah," Yamapi says, checking the panel on the handle until he finds the button to change the wheelchair to a temporary bed.

He still unwillingly flinches at the sight of the remains of his leg, a stump barely healed even after receiving the best treatments available at the hospital. Even knowing he's already growing a copy of his leg in the lab doesn't stop the shudder going through him.

Firm hands reach him, and Masuda places one hand on what's left of his leg and another on his chest. The hand of his chest surprises him, but the steadiness of it and the warmth seeping through the fabric quickly calms Yamapi down.

Then Masuda begins to press his fingers against the stump, evenly massaging the area. Without actively trying, Yamapi relaxes into the touch.

He brain mostly shuts down after he gets used to Masuda's touch, but fleetingly he thinks, so this is what it feels like to have Masuda as your physiatrist. It's a good feeling, he decides, like the sun sharing its warmth to support life. Masuda's presence already gives off that feeling, and the way he works only highlights it.

"Hey," Masuda says, jerking Yamapi from his slumber. "What about your face? You can't perform that surgery yourself."

Does this mean Masuda cares about him? Or does this mean Masuda cares how he looks? Yamapi knows he shouldn't think this way, but it's hard not to when he's already uncomfortable with his body.

"I'm thinking of keeping it this way," he says, thinking that this way, at least no one else would be attracted by his face only to walk away a few days later.

Of course, Masuda is right in front of him, with eyes widened in surprise.

"Why?" Masuda asks, his hands never faltering even as he speaks.

Yamapi lets his mind wander briefly before answering, "Don't know why I should. What do you think? You're the one who said I was perfect when we met."

"Huh?" Masuda blurts, "I did?"

So Masuda doesn't even remember that. Yamapi really shouldn't feel disappointed at things he has no control over, but he keeps thinking there's something he should continue grasping for, he just needs to figure out what it is himself.

"You definitely wouldn't think that now, would you?" Yamapi asks, though he's not sure what it is he wants to get out of the question.

"No!" Masuda screeches, then without taking a break quickly adds, "I mean, you're still perfect!"

Yamapi raises the tips of his lips into a smirk. Of all the time he's known Masuda, the other is never good with comforting people with words. Masuda's better with gestures and actions.

"Guess I'm just tired of looking pretty," Yamapi says.

Masuda doesn't have a response for that. Yamapi isn't looking for conversation anyway. The whole topic is making him uncomfortable, and so he's glad when the room fades into silence and Masuda's hands move onto his lower back.

Make that very glad, because he didn't know his muscles had tightened so much, but Masuda's gentle hands were kneading them to relax to a point he didn't know he could reach. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he allows himself to sink into it, letting everything around him dissolve into the fizzling background.

. . . . . . . . . .

By the time Yamapi gets home, the stars in the sky reveal just how late into the night it is.

He had spent most of the night standing in his lab, looking at what would be his leg if things turn out all right. He's always been confident with himself, he doesn't remember having failed in anything he tried hard enough in, but maybe that's also him being overly confident. Seeing the leg floating in the tube, Yamapi had begun to wonder why he hadn't trusted someone with more experience, someone with an actual license to do this.

It's not too late to back out, but it'd feel like cheating if he did. And Yamapi can see the perfect score for the project, it's just a breadth away, at the end of his education at the University. He just needs to convince himself like he convinced his mother...well, to leave him alone.

If he fails, they can always cut it off again to attach another one. This shouldn't make him feel better, but it helps, so Yamapi supposes it doesn't matter.

Yamapi prepares for a bath. With the rented wheelchair accompanying him, his missing leg doesn't hinder him much. By command, the chair can reach any height and move in any direction at a speed of his choice. It's so convenient that if they weren't prohibited and ridiculously expensive, Yamapi might consider buying one for daily use.

But he has to get off the chair for a bath, and that's when things get tiresome. His body's in a healthy state, and he has enough strength in his arms, but once he's in the tub, everything becomes a hassle. Reaching for the usual places he puts things prove to be impossible, something he learned the hard way, half wet and a distance away from the wheelchair.

He's about the run the water when his phone rings.

"Hey," he answers instinctively, nonchalantly checking the caller's name.

"Oi, Pi," a familiar voice says, "Bar night. Coming?"

Sometimes Yamapi really wonders how much time his friends spend not thinking. Or drinking, judging from the drunken slur coming through the speaker.

"Injured, remember?" Yamapi replies gruellingly. He switches on the camera, knowing that a holographic image would appear on the other end of the call.

Sure enough, he hears a shriek, and then some well wishes for him to get well and some broken plans for his recovery party that mostly consists of garbles and loud music in the background before the call ends.

Hesitantly, Yamapi raises his left arm to touch his cheek. Touching faintly, he can just barely feel through the scar tissues; it's like peeking at the scenery through a veil. The wound is nearly completely healed, but the scar is glaringly red compared to the rest of his face, and it's what most people see when they look at him, like his image starts with his scar.

He won't be partying anytime soon, that's for sure. Yamapi hasn't been in the mood for partying since he started he started this final project, maybe even before this, so it doesn't feel like much of a loss.

An hour later, when he flops down onto his bed ready to turn in for the night, it's completely out of the blue that he randomly remembers, Massu. Not the person, because he meets Masuda often enough that he correspondingly thinks about the guy rather often as well, but the nickname the other had said he could use.

He isn't sure he's completely awake when he sends Masuda -- Massu -- a mail with a simple message.

Good night.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Just get it off me," Yamapi commands, too exhausted to be polite.

Thankfully, both the hired anaesthesiologist and Massu hurry to push the equipments away from Yamapi. There's hardly any blood, with this being nanoscopic surgery, but Massu's carefully wiping everything clean anyway, making Yamapi wonder how many times he's been in a surgery room.

For the moment, he feels nothing. The pain and soreness will come later, after the anaesthesia wears off.

The surgery is complete, and Yamapi feels the urge to wipe his hands and walk away like he normally does after every other surgery. Except he's feeling the after effects of going through surgery -- at least it wasn't someone else handling his body -- and except for a dull ache, he can't feel the lower half of his body at all at the moment. Logic tells him he's finished with the surgery, but Yamapi's not feeling either of his legs, and it gives him the feeling that he has neither of his legs, that nothing is finished.

"Are you alright?" Massu asks softly, as if wary of spooking Yamapi.

"More or less," Yamapi says, "for now. I won't be feeling very well later, though."

Massu nods understandingly, and Yamapi wants to reach out to touch the guy's shoulders or back but instead he feels his own body giving out and suddenly, Massu's arms are supporting him while he's been lowered to a laying position.

"Urgh," Yamapi lets out, disgusted with himself.

"Uh, I don't think we should move you," Massu says. "So, Yamashita-kun, can you sleep here? Just relax, let me take care of the rest. It's, um, my job, you know. Recovering your body functions, that is. You'd have to work hard too, but I'll be there, so just go to sleep now, okay?"

Yamapi listens to Massu's voice, thinks it feels like a wave washing over him. Yamapi likes his own voice, though it's kind of difficult to hate your own voice when you have to listen to it every time you speak. But Massu's voice is entirely different, a steady gentle tone that's soft and cheery yet firm and occasionally, bouncy.

Their individual work don't really collide, but ever since the accident Massu visits his lab so frequently that Yamapi's gotten used to Massu's voice encouraging him, giving him energy to work on.

There's always some exercise or massage included in each visit, since Yamapi wants a speedy recovery and the best way to do that is to maintain all the strength in his muscles. But with the way Massu fussed over him, Yamapi wonders how people who didn't have their own personal physiatrist coped, because Yamapi couldn't have done half as much without Massu.

"Yeah," Yamapi says.

And before he knows it he's waking up, so he must have fallen asleep at some point. Warily, Yamapi sits up in a hurry to check whether there's anyone around. He can't have slept long if he doesn't even remember falling asleep.

With eyes half closed, Yamapi sees Massu sitting at the side of the surgery bed.

"Oh, you're awake," Massu says. "There are painkillers on the table. You said those were the right ones?"

He isn't in pain yet, but the stings are coming through. Yamapi gratefully grabs the painkillers and swallows them, noting that yes, they were the right ones. Sitting up, he also sees Massu's hands on his left leg, but instead of the massages he's used to seeing, Massu is drawing circles lightly with his thumbs.

"Can you feel me?" Massu asks.

Taken out of context, those words could mean...a lot of things. Things which Yamapi shouldn't be thinking of at all. He focuses on Massu's question, paying extra attention to his legs and he's probably just imagining it, but just barely, Yamapi thinks he does feel something.

"Not sure," he grunts, not willing to bring his own hopes up, let alone Massu's, in case he's wrong. "Aren't you going home?"

Massu continues to brush his fingers against Yamapi's leg. "What about you?"

It's Yamapi's turn to feel confused. "What about me?" he asks in return.

"Can you go home? Or do you need to stay here?" Massu says, "If you're staying, I can keep watch."

"You don't have to," Yamapi points out, "I can go home if I want. Don't think I'd have the energy for that, though. I'll go home tomorrow. You can go home and take a rest."

Massu quiets down. Probably deep in thought, if experience has taught Yamapi anything. Then, Massu's face brightens as he says animatedly, "I know, I can take you home! Just give me your address."

Yamapi shakes his head, "It's alright, just go home and rest. I'll be fine."

Massu doesn't give up. Privately, Yamapi thinks he never expected Massu to give up, even if that would be the rational thing to do. And maybe, though Yamapi would never admit it, he doesn't want Massu to give up, mostly because he does want to get into his own bed and sleep for the next twenty hours.

"You're not really injured anymore, just tired, right?" Massu says, "Let's get you home. It'd be more comfortable, and, ah, that makes me happy too."

"I can't move," Yamapi groans, not saying no but not saying yes either.

"Um, let me carry you, okay?" Massu asks.

Despite the question, Massu doesn't wait for Yamapi to reply. Yamapi nearly jumps out of his skin when he notices an arm snaking under his back, and he distantly sees another arm under his legs. And before he can warn Massu exactly how much he weights, or before he can utter anything in protest, Massu lifts him up and Yamapi should probably be embarrassed -- dear god, bridal style? -- but mostly, he's just exhausted and it's comfortable with someone taking care of him.

Yamapi closes his eyes. "You didn't give me a chance to say no."

Massu giggles, and Yamapi feels the vibrations going through him. He can imagine just how Massu looks right then, playful yet confident and reliable.

Massu lays Yamapi down onto his wheelchair, gently adjusting Yamapi's position. Yamapi then feels fabric covering his legs, must be a blanket, so Massu must have found it somewhere or had it with him all along.

Yamapi lets Massu work his way around him. Obediently, he tells Massu his address, wondering why he hasn't invited the other to his home before. He feels the chair moving, and he might be too trusting, but this is Masuda, someone Yamapi had already promised to trust. Someone he does trust, with rehab and with, well, whatever this is.

He dozes off once again, occasionally coming awake when they stop, or when Massu rests his hand on Yamapi's shoulder. Massu seems to realize that he woke Yamapi, because the hand quickly withdraws, and despite wanting to, Yamapi doesn't know how to ask for the comforting warmth to return.

Suddenly, like no time has passed, Massu's softly patting his forearm. "Hey, you're home."

Yamapi doesn't react, but he didn't have to. Massu wraps his fingers around Yamapi's arms and raises Yamapi's arm to touch the door. The door scans Yamapi's hand, his entire body as well though it couldn't be seen, and swings open soundlessly.

Somehow, Massu must have found his bedroom because Yamapi's being carried (again) and lowered onto the bed. He recognizes the familiar mattress, and the moment Massu lets him down Yamapi relaxes into it.

Remotely, he hears Massu's voice. "I'm leaving then, alright, Yamashita-kun?"

"Stay," Yamapi says without thinking, absently reaching out his arm to touch the empty area beside him.

"I really shouldn't," Massu says, and Massu's voice sounds different, almost choky, and it's enough to alert Yamapi. But before Yamapi can react, sit up and maybe say something, he hears the door close, leaving the ceiling as the only scenery.

. . . . . . . . . .

"We'll take a break later," Massu says, "But right now, come on, you can do this."

"Has anyone ever told you you're scary?" Yamapi retorts, "Because really, you are. That smile of yours is just a facade to fool everyone, isn't it?"

If anything, Massu seems to be smiling wider. Yamapi fakes a shudder, earning another laugh from Massu.

But the expectant look doesn't fade from Massu's expression. Yamapi grits his teeth as he grips the iron bars before him, lowering himself so that both his feet reach the floor. Finally standing up, he tries to balance himself without using his arms, testing each leg cautiously.

"You're still favouring your right leg," Massu says from the side, "You're the one that built it, you know it can take your weight."

When Yamapi doesn't move, Massu moves over and rests a hand on his right leg. Massu's intentions are clear -- he wants Yamapi to stop putting any weight on his right foot, even if he's still unused to his left one and Yamapi's quite sure he wouldn't be able to balance himself.

Massu had better catch him if he falls. It wouldn't be the first time.

His hand firmly on the rails, Yamapi slowly raises his right leg, a millimeter at a time. If Massu's growing impatient, the other definitely doesn't show it, his comforting palm now resting on Yamapi's lower back.

Yamapi grins in accomplishment when he's finally standing on one foot. He's still using some of his arm strength, but mostly just for balance, and his left foot is definitely carrying him just fine.

"See?" Massu says, "Oh, and don't move. For ten minutes."

Massu's the professional here, and it's kind of scary for Yamapi to realize that Massu's taking control of the situation. And yet it's reassuring as well, Yamapi thinks, because they've been working together for nearly five months and even if in the grand scheme of things, it's not that long an amount of time, it feels like forever.

He can even grudgingly admit that he likes Massu's company.

"Slave driver," Yamapi accuses without venom.

Massu laughs in reply. "Let's try walking later, too."

Yamapi merely groans in reply. Neither of them are the chatty type, and they settle into silence as Yamapi feels his muscles straining. It doesn't hurt, though, so he doesn't stop, knowing that standing for ten minutes shouldn't be a problem.

Walking might be, but with Massu guiding him, Yamapi thinks he can manage it.

It's an odd feeling, relying on someone else like this. It's not like he absolutely needs Massu's help, even without Massu he would push himself to recovery, but Massu seems to sense when Yamapi's able to continue without going over his limit and when Yamapi should rest. It's probably why most people rely on a physiatrist to help them recover, to shorten the recovery time.

But Yamapi isn't paying Massu. He suddenly realizes it, and wonders why he hadn't thought of this before. Should he? They're partners, and Yamapi does want to use this for the project. But then there's Akaki-san, who is recovering, albeit at a slower pace, according to Massu.

And exchanging money feels dirty somehow. Massu hasn't mentioned it, and while Massu acts perfectly professional, their interaction makes it seems like they're friends. Bringing in money would be...wrong, like buying friendship.

Yamapi would just to repay Massu some other way since it feels like he's in debt. He has no idea how, he rarely owes other people. Maybe he could even use this to his advantage, as an excuse to meet Massu after they hand in their report.

When ten minutes pass, Massu lets him go and guides him onto the wheelchair. After Yamapi takes a rest, they'd attempt walking together.

"Water?" Massu asks, handing Yamapi a water bottle. "And we should order food, I'm hungry."

"Hey, I was the one working," Yamapi complains, "you're just always hungry."

Massu laughs naturally, and their eyes meet. Yamapi may be imagining things, but he sees Massu's eyes wander, and wonder what Massu sees when he looks at him. An injured person? A scarred person? Or does he see nothing at all?

Later, when Massu's hands are at Yamapi's side while he's carefully moving his center of gravity from one foot to another, not quite moving forward yet, Yamapi can't help but ask, "You're not feeling sorry for me, are you?"

Massu looks genuinely surprised, leading Yamapi to believe anything he says. "Why would I?"

Yamapi refrains from saying anything, deciding that he's said enough stupid things for the day. Luckily, Massu doesn't seem bothered as they wordlessly move on.

. . . . . . . . . .

Taking small steps, Yamapi steps out the door. He's still carrying a cane, but he's walking, three weeks after reconstruction. It has to be some sort of record.

He's also returned the rental wheelchair. It'd cost him a fortune, but it was necessary, and too convenient for its own good. If Yamapi hadn't been determined to walk, he could have spend his life on that chair, and just the thought of that is terrifying. Just having one on campus would prove extremely handy -- just think, no more walks from the lab to the cafeteria.

The money hadn't been a problem, of course. Both the vehicle owner from the crash and his insurance helped with it, leaving enough behind for Yamapi to consider buying a car. Just, not yet. Maybe when he forgets about the lights he saw before the crash.

As Yamapi trots forward, he thinks of how he's finally gotten used to walking alone, even if it's been less than three months since the accident. Only two months were spent without a left leg, but Yamapi feels somehow vulnerable.

Or maybe it's because Massu was with him all that time.

He can't remember when he begun thinking of Massu as reliable. Massu has a nice smile, and seems energetic, but his sometimes childish actions mean he doesn't give a solid first impression.

But Massu is trustworthy, this Yamapi can say without faltering. Yamapi can still feel Massu's reassuring hands supporting him, and really, it's scary how fast humans can get used to something.

He's already compared Massu's smile with the sun before, and Yamapi thinks the comparison is accurate. Compassionate and generous, Massu gives off a gentle and heartfelt aura that reaches everyone around him.

And maybe, to people who's never met either of them, it'd sound like Yamapi's praising Massu too much, but it's what Yamapi truly thinks wholeheartedly.

That's when it hits Yamapi suddenly. In horror, he realizes that he wants to experience it again.

Not losing a leg (which should go without saying, but you never know with some people), but having Massu support him and encourage him. He thinks about the people Massu helped before and would work with later on, and he's bitterly jealous because all those people have experienced Massu's warmth and Yamapi's only one of a thousand.

And because Yamapi's on a honest streak, he thinks about Massu's fingers and those arms supporting his weight. He wants to kill anyone Massu will touch ever again because Yamapi can still feel the warm strength within those muscles and the stern stubbornness under that smile, and he wants to touch it, wants Massu within his grasp and under him, above him, everywhere.

Oh god.

Yamapi doesn't try explaining it to himself. What would be the point? He thought of all those thoughts himself. And there's no reason to lie to himself, denial has never been his strong point.

He needs to sit down. Preferably somewhere nice and quiet, but the sidewalk would have to do.

A stranger meets him at the eye and flinches away abruptly. Yamapi reminds himself that it's not even that hideous a scar; people are just unused to seeing marks of injury when medics can fix everything.

So, what are his options? On the surface, this changes nothing. But Yamapi knows this changes everything, because viewing someone as friend or liking them...a lot, there's a world of differences between the two. And Yamapi thinks, maybe this is a recent development, but possibly, it's always been there, and that's exactly why he's had trouble identifying Massu as a friend.

Since he's in a dilemma, a people-related one, Yamapi decides to call Koyama. He needs advice on this.

"Yamapi!" Koyama replies enthusiastically. "How are you?"

"I may have a problem," Yamapi says, "and I need a lunch partner. You free?"

A pause. "Since you're calling me, it can't be health problems. People problems, or other problems?" Koyama says, "Because for most problems, Shige's probably the person to ask. He's busy though -- hey Shige, what are you busy with? Um, he said some technical thing I couldn't catch. I don't mind having lunch together though!"

Shige's full name is Kato Shigeaki, and he's a close friend of Koyama's. Shige is a technologist, working with machines and spaceships or something to that effect, and people say he's brilliant at programming. Yamapi wouldn't know -- he's always preferred working with biological beings, and other things usually slip off his radar.

"People problems," Yamapi sighs into the phone, "I'm not even sure I want to talk about it yet. Are you on campus or are you at work?"

"At work," Koyama says, "but I was going there anyway. You know how close the Station is to the University. Just warning you, um...I'm not sure how to say this, but Tegoshi would probably be there as well. He says you're probably unhappy with him?"

Tegoshi. Who, the last time Yamapi saw him, had been flirting with Massu. Chatting happily, anyway, but Tegoshi's voice makes everything he says sounds like flirting. Yamapi never asked Massu about Tegoshi, he couldn't, and now the idea terrifies him. What if they are together, in that way, and Massu just never mentioned it?

Yamapi stops the destructive trend of thought before it goes somewhere. If he guides the conversation where he wants it to go, he could use this as a chance to find out.

Naturally, Yamapi can't even bring himself to mention Massu. Luckily, Koyama doesn't pry, because with Tegoshi there, it's just too awkward. They bring up pointless topics one after another, economics and old age and cross-planet travels, and Yamapi even manages to remember why he liked Tegoshi.

Until, for no reason at all, Tegoshi asks, "Massu is a bit confusing, isn't he?" with a sweet smile, his slanted smile revealing his devilish side.

"Not really," Yamapi bites out, attempts to glare even if he's more resigned than malicious.

"You needn't worry, though," Tegoshi says, "If that's what you wanted to talk about. I told Koyama, but he says you won't believe him."

Yamapi never thought of Tegoshi as sharp, but he takes note to never underestimate people who excel at psychology. Although he isn't sure who and what it is he's supposed to believe.

They were finishing eating anyway. Yamapi cleans up his tray and stands up, Koyama soon following. Tegoshi gets Koyama to clean up his tray for him, which doesn't make sense but Yamapi guesses Tegoshi likes being pampered and Koyama doesn't mind doing it. He bids them farewell with a smile and thinks perhaps he should contact his friends more.

Yamapi picks up his cane, then lays it back down. He can manage walking back without it, it'll just take longer and he'll have to more careful. He'll manage.

. . . . . . . . . .

They're writing their final report together, including every detail of Yamapi's recovery -- a full one -- and all the notes they took in the process.

Yamapi never asked what happened with their first patient, though he guesses that it probably went alright. Massu doesn't say much about it, and they unanimously decided that since the professors agreed, they might as well make Yamapi their official case. It's a better story, by any rate.

Halfway through comparing their reports and figuring out the best way to fit them together, Yamapi comes to a decision.

"I'm reconstructing my face," Yamapi declares.

"Oh," Massu replies, surprised. He puts down the keyboard, looking up at Yamapi, "I thought you didn't want it?"

"I guess I'm just superficial, like everyone else," Yamapi replies. "I thought I'd be alright with it but I'm not, not really, and I hate the pity looks and I hate it even more when people won't look at me and I feel petty but I just," he looks at Massu, searching for words.

And maybe you'd look at me once more this way, Yamapi doesn't say.

Massu isn't a superficial person. Even when the guy obviously has preferences for looks, Yamapi knows that Massu gets close with anyone who's willing to open themselves to him. How Massu never attempted to get closer to Yamapi or Tegoshi just proves that Massu searches for more than looks in his companions.

But, they are friends, or what people would call friends. Call Yamapi shallow, but he can't help but think that maybe, Massu would consider him once more if he regains his looks. That maybe, he could at the very least, bring Massu to blush again with more than teasing words.

"-It's okay," Massu pats Yamapi's shoulders lightly. "It's Yamashita-kun's decision, so it's okay."

"It's not!" Yamapi emphasizes, needing Massu to understand. "I don't want people to like me because of how I look and it's just a scar, I know it is, but I want people to like me too and this is where it gets me!"

"I like Yamashita-kun either way," Massu says. "Scarless because that's how I got to know Yamashita-kun, or with the scar because that's how we became close."

"Don't say things you don't mean," Yamapi says bitterly, because Massu may be a kind and friendly soul, but his crush had been so cruelly brief. So it may be that they have an achingly pleasant friendship, but it's obvious that Massu doesn't like him any more than that.

"Eh, but I really do like Yamashita-kun!" Massu jumps up from his seat, as if to verify his case.

"Prove it, then," Yamapi challenges, eyes glinting.

Massu seems to be visibly pondering what to do. Yamapi waits, thinking that right then, he's willing to accept anything Massu does.

He's still surprised when Massu reaches out a hand and touches his face. Yamapi feels Massu's palm caressing his left cheek, almost cradling his scar. Even through the scar tissues Yamapi feels it and his senses skyrocket.

Throat dry, Yamapi tries swallowing, but the lump in his throat doesn't go away. And then Massu's moving closer, for one startling moment Yamapi's panics, is he going to kiss me, and he can't think at all, can't move; he's petrified at the spot.

Massu directs a smile in his direction, but before Yamapi can relax as he usually does when Massu smiles, Massu moves even closer, until Massu's lips are ridiculously close and oh god, Massu is kissing his scar.

Without realizing it, Yamapi's holding his breath, terrified of scaring Massu away. Do friends do this? No, they don't, common sense tells Yamapi this. Massu's kissing his scar, kissing his cheek. So what if Yamapi has a scar there, it's still his face, and Massu's kissing him on his cheek.

Then, Massu pulls away, but they're still close enough to kiss and all Yamapi can focus on is Massu's lips, Massu's tongue unconsciously licking his lips and Massu's lips glistening under the illumination.

Yamapi lets out a groan, before he pulls Massu into a kiss. He's ready to back off any moment, jump away and think of a good excuse (that starts with the ever mature 'you kissed me first!'), but Massu wraps his arms around his neck and they're both giving everything they have into the kiss.

When they finally pull away, Yamapi sees the brightest smile he's ever seen on Massu.

"Nnngh," Yamapi manages, somehow losing the ability to speak.

Massu seems to be having the same problem, but his smile expresses everything Yamapi wants to know, and he's returning the smile with the same fervour.

"Does this mean...?" Yamapi tries asking.

"I like you!" Massu blurts, blushing and nodding at the same time.

Yamapi bursts into laughter. Massu pouts, but it's hard to bring Yamapi down when he realizes that, hell, Tegoshi might be right after all. They should talk, about what they do want maybe, but for now Yamapi's happy just enjoying being with Massu.

"I think I figured that out," Yamapi laughs, "But still, you sure never acted like it. I thought you had a crush on Tegoshi!"

"Eh?" Massu exclaims loudly. "Really? Why?"

"You're kind of obvious when you crush on someone," Yamapi says.

Massu has the decency to blush. "People tell me that a lot. Usually everyone knows even before I say anything so, uh, I thought it'd be the same when I...um, when I...eh, really, really like someone?"

"You definitely weren't," Yamapi says.

"But you didn't say anything either!" Massu complains, "And I even told you I had a crush on you, but you acted like you didn't care."

They look at each other, and both seem to realize how purposeless their exchange is when they grin at the same time. Their work lies on the desk, ignored but not forgotten. They can get back to it later.

"I'm still getting my face back," Yamapi says.

"Hmmm?" Massu replies in confusion, "Why?"

"You totally like my face," Yamapi says, "Admit it. And I like making you blush."

Massu yelps in protest. And Yamapi thinks, this is perfection, whatever perfection is.

Funny where it comes from. A project he never found interesting, something he only decided on so that he could graduate. Yamapi still wants to work in Technology Embedment; he already has ideas he wants to test out for Ryo's chip, that much hasn't changed. But, laughing with Massu and discussing everything and nothing with the other -- Yamapi doesn't want those to change either.

His leg, his face, his looks, anything could happen to those. As long as Massu's around, Yamapi thinks he'll be fine.