The heart wants what it wants

There were two good things about the final year in university and the first year in a corporate job:

1.The manic pace.

2.The complete lack of sleep.

The combination distracted Shinobu from having to think. It occurred to him that he was adept at ignoring his feelings and the depths of his mind trying to remind him about the mess that he was actually in.

Like a closed fracture, hidden underneath the surface of his skin.

He had assimilated reasonably well into his team at work. They had just closed an important project, which meant that the year's budget was met. At this moment, the boss was buying drinks at a swanky bar.

"Good job, Kurosawa," one of his seniors slapped his back.

"Not bad for a first year!" another chipped in.

"I owe it to your guidance," Shinobu returned politely. He topped up their drinks as was expected. They were on their fourth bottle of expensive sake.

"Keep this up. You have a bright future, young man," his manager nodded approvingly.

"Thank you, sir."

And so the evening went. The atmosphere was one of drunk jubilance. At the end of the night, most of the team couldn't walk in a straight line.

Shinobu remained annoyingly sober. He trailed the rest as they stumbled outside the bar in search for the next round of entertainment. Most likely a hostess club.

His senior bumped into someone on the street and nearly tripped. Shinobu caught him and steadied the drunk man, before turning around to apologise to the stranger.

"Excuse us."

"K-Kurosawa! Is that you?" a familiar voice exclaimed.

It took him a moment to recognise the face.

"Arai."

"It IS you!" Arai widened his eyes. "What a surprise!"

"We'll go ahead first. Catch up with us!" his colleagues called out.

Shinobu nodded.

"Your teammates from work?" Arai asked curiously.

"Yes."

"I just left mine. Let's exchange cards!"

He obliged and they went through the perfunctory motion. Arai whistled and seemed impressed by his business card.

"Nice. Heard it's really competitive. The hours must be tough."

"It's the same everywhere," Shinobu shrugged.

"Tell me about it! I was talking to Ren and man, I'm so jealous since he's still a student-"

Arai froze halfway through. Shinobu felt the threat of the fracture rising to the surface.

"How is he?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain even.

"Great! I mean, he seems happy and well," Arai stuttered. "We-we don't catch up that often. So I don't know that much really."

That only drove the point home that Shinobu knew nothing about Ren's life at that juncture.

"That's good."

Perhaps Arai could hear the cracks underneath his skin or the strain in his voice. He sputtered something about having to go and catching up with Shinobu another time before fleeing.

Shinobu did the only thing he could think of.

He found his colleagues and got smashed.

He vaguely recalled women clinging onto him in the club, much to the amusement and envy of his seniors.

And found himself wishing, more than anything, that it was a certain brown-haired man.

He went home alone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

There were two good things about the final year in university and living in a foreign country:

1.Having to learn to use a whole new language in everyday life.

2.The complete lack of sleep.

The combination gave Ren the focus he needed to start anew. At least that what he told himself.

Focus on improving his ability to converse. Focus on making new friends. Focus on finding the right train to get to class. He realised that he was a master at denying his emotions when he focused on that too.

All he had to do was to walk down a straight road. Do not look to the right, left or back.

Sometimes, though, it felt as if someone was trying to catch him from behind and Ren couldn't afford to be caught. He would break down, he was sure.

It helped that was he was popular among the people in his year. He made special effort to fill up his social calendar and ignored the reason for doing so.

Recently, a classmate had begun to show interest beyond friendship as well.

It started with casual coffees. Then it graduated to the movies.

Affluent, confident and sophisticated. He was also patient when Ren expressed hesitance.

Kozuka should be everything that Ren would want in a partner.

Which led them to the current date at one of the hottest new restaurants in the city.

The food was amazing. The conversation was easy. They shared common literary interests. He made Ren laugh.

Yet more than once, Ren found himself reminiscing about the times he had laughed even harder at a gritty neighbourhood ramen joint.

He shook off the memories almost angrily to focus on the company at present.

Towards the end of the meal, Kozuka reached out to hold his hand.

"Want to come over tonight? It's a short walk from here."

They were on their third bottle of wine that evening. Kozuka surely had this all planned out.

In the dimness of the elegant restaurant, Ren said yes.

The air was cold as they stepped outside later. Kozuka led them through the picturesque streets lined with shops, most of which were closed.

Ren could sense that feeling again. Someone chasing him, causing his breath to suffer and his heart to beat louder. It seemed to worsen the closer they were to Kozuka's place. He could barely hear what Kozuka was saying. Something about the apartment being the top floor of a townhouse.

Then they passed by a shop and his eyes happened to take a glance.

Ren knew at that moment that the game was over.

He was caught.

It was an innocuous white tea set by the windowsill. A pot and two cups.

So easy to miss but for the mathematical equations in grey which graced every surface. None of them made sense to Ren but together, they formed a strangely beautiful pattern.

"What are you looking at?" Kozuka asked.

"N-Nothing," Ren smiled and they continued to walk on.

Before they reached the townhouse, Ren halted suddenly.

"I have to make a call."

Kozuka gave him an odd look but nodded easily.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll open the door first."