Rosalia Lombardo

[Chapter title inspired by Rosalia Lombardo by vistlip...and the actual little girl Rosalia Lombardo lmao]

--

"Hmm," Kuramochi hums, smacking his lips, "could use a touch more salt."

"And you could use a touch more common sense!" his mother snaps, setting down her homemade bowl of soup, "Why on Earth did you think it was a good idea to steal a stranger's motorcycle and ride it? Look at you, I can barely recognize you!"

Kuramochi averts his eyes, sulking, "I didn't steal it," he says matter-of-factly, "I borrowed it from someone I knew and I just lost control of it—"

His mother shoves another spoonful of soup in his mouth, shutting him up, "Don't play smart with me, Youichi! If you weren't already injured, I would have used your silly little wrestling moves against you! Face the music—what you did was ridiculous and you deserve to be here."

"You're being mean."

"So, what? What are you going to do about school? Baseball? You can't learn or play like this!"

"I know, I know, stop nagging me!"

His mother raises a threatening fist at him and he cowers, then grimaces in pain.

"Good for you," she remarks, standing up, "I have to go back to work, so sit there and think about what you've done to yourself. Jeez, I can't believe the idiocy that runs in this family. Your grandfather got into an accident back in the day, and now you. What's wrong with you guys?!"

"Clearly everything," Kuramochi says sheepishly.

"Ugh. That attitude means you're recovering, so you better finish that soup."

"Fine."

"I'm not playing, boy!"

"I said fine!"

His mother quickly pecks him on the cheek before thanking the doctor and walking away.

Once the coast is clear, the jewelry shop lady, known as Tomo, crawls out from underneath Kuramochi's bed. She releases a breath she's been holding since she heard his mother's menacing footsteps nearing his room.

She has been visiting Kuramochi for the past two days, guilt-ridden as it was her motorcycle that spawned this incident. Nonetheless, that doesn't hinder her from complaining to him. She was fired from her delivery job and was required to pay the company for the damaged motorcycle.

"I caused you so much shit," Kuramochi sighs, "How much is the damage? I'll find a way to help you somehow. Oh, I can use the money left over from buying the ring—"

Tomo shakes her head, "It's alright, Kuramochi-kun. I couldn't possibly ask you for money. I'll see if my friends would be willing to lend me a hand. Anyway, your mother sounds scary. At least that means she cares."

"Tch, it certainly doesn't show through her cooking. Like, we fight a lot because we love each other to bits, but I am not finishing that abomination. I'd rather get into another accident."

Tomo laughs as she opens her lunch bag and reveals a plastic container of her own, "If that's the case, are you willing to try my soup?"

"Whoa, you cooked for me?"

"Yes. I came empty-handed the other times I visited and it made me feel guilty."

"You're awesome! Don't tell my ma about this, though."

Kuramochi opens wide, and Tomo gleefully feeds him until the container is empty.

--

"Leaving already?" Miyuki asks.

He's sat in front of the window, watching as Eijun ties his shoes.

"Yeah," Eijun replies, "I technically wasn't allowed to be here for this long, and I'm behind on schoolwork."

"Not that catching up will make you any smarter."

"Hey!" the brunette looks at him through his legs, frowning, "That mouth of yours makes me regret calling an ambulance. I should've left you out there on the street, cold and bleeding!"

"And make my children fatherless? Murderer. Ooh, I'm getting goosebumps. I suddenly feel very uncomfortable being in the same room as you. Hurry up and go, will you?"

Eijun mocks him under his breath as he dons his sweater. Truthfully, he wanted to stay with Miyuki while he recuperated, but people were beginning to misinterpret his four-day visitation. Miyuki had saved his life, so he performed the common courtesy of monitoring his recovery.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Eijun's fluffy head of hair against his chest evoked a sense of gratitude in Miyuki when he first woke up. The brunette had not forgiven him and was headstrong about evading unnecessary interactions with him, but his accident rendered all of that insignificant.

'Sanada's lucky to have someone like him,' Miyuki thinks fondly, 'I fumbled my chance, so now it's his job to make him happy. As long as he's happy, I'll be okay.'

Miyuki's extracted from his thoughts when Eijun walks up to him.

"I'm gonna head out," Eijun says, "I know you already know, but remember to take your medication, and if your head hurts, lay down."

"What are you, my nurse?"

"This is the last time I'll be this nice and this close to you, so deal with it. After today, I'll return to distancing myself and avoiding you like the plague because, duh, I still despise your guts."

"Alright, alright. Thank you, Nurse Eijun, for your caring hospitality. I will do as I'm told."

"Good."

They hug. Eijun flashes Miyuki a peace sign as he swivels around and marches to the door, then pauses as his hand lands on the knob.

"Kazudad," he says.

Miyuki turns his head, "Yeah?"

"…nothing. Just be careful. A car shouldn't be enough to take you away from Furuya. He needs you."

"I know, Eijun. I know." 'I need Furuya, too. More than he thinks I do.'

"Farewell!"

"Bye. Don't forget to ice your shoulder after practice!"

"Like I don't know that already! Buzz off!"

--

36 Hours Later

Miyuki nuzzles his daughter's nose before a nurse swings by to return her to her crib. The twins' breathing problem has been remedied, ending their stay at the NICU. After swaddling them for some time, more times than he's willing to admit, and he strongly hopes Furuya's subconscious hasn't heard him goo-goo ga-ga-ing, his heart is leaning toward his daughter.

He's in Furuya's room again, still waiting for him to regain consciousness. Their son has been restless, crying out for his mother's touch. His wails only worsened when Miyuki tried cuddling him, and his patience was running thin.

'Push through, Furuya,' he thinks, 'It's been five days since you gave birth to our kids. Don't you want to see them, hold them, name them? Don't you want to see me, even? I know you wouldn't give up after coming all this way.

'The guys at school would probably kill me, saying that it's my fault. I mean…technically it is my fault, I'm the reason why we're in this position. But that just emphasizes why you should wake up. Come on…'

Miyuki leans back in his wheelchair and he sees Furuya's phone in his peripheral. He doesn't label it as important, but then he recalls that moment when he and Furuya were on the train back to Seido.

--Flashback--Miyuki readjusts the picture and cackles as he saves it. He looks up and sees that Furuya is glaring at him, unimpressed.

Only glaring.

"W-Wait a minute," he stammers, "This is supposed to be the part where you exact your revenge, taking out your phone to take a picture of me. Don't tell me you already did that? You probably caught me while I was sleeping or something. I wouldn't put it past you."

Furuya's glare vanishes as he slumps in his seat, averting his eyes.

Miyuki's jaw drops, astonished, "YOU DID?! No way. I was joking! Let me see your phone."

"No."

"This wonderful face isn't for casual photography! How could you?"

"Don't care."

"You sicko…"--Flashback End--

Miyuki furtively pilfers Furuya's phone off the bedside table and unlocks it.

"Still no password," he says to himself, mildly disappointed, "Right. Once again, this is not an invasion of privacy. I'm just checking to see if he actually has a picture of me sleeping or not. He was most definitely bluffing, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure."

Miyuki goes to the Contacts app and scrolls to his name…assuming it's the contact that says Pole-senpai. He clicks his name and his icon is of him dozing off in class, drooling onto his notebook.

"He was spying on me? I feel violated, but this can't be the extent of it. There has to be something more blackmail-worthy. In his camera roll, perhaps?"

Furuya's gallery turns up anticlimactic with pictures of Hokkaido's summertime scenery, candid shots of their team members, and family portraits. Miyuki's then drawn to the Hidden folder. Could this be where the treasure resided, ironically not so hidden?

"Totally not an invasion of privacy," he reminds himself as he presses the folder.

He immediately blames his head injury for causing him to forget that Furuya has a recording kink. He chokes as he accidentally plays a video of the pitcher quivering underneath him, his legs spread eagle, breathlessly urging Miyuki to go deeper.

"Oh, I remember this," Miyuki mutters, "This was the first time I finally managed to hit Furuya's spot and make him cum…he really scratched the hell out of my back that night. At least that meant I was doing a good job. And I still do a freaking good job, fantastic even. You know what, I should send this to myself. I should send all of these videos to myself, for research purposes, of course."

"Pervert," a voice says, "What are you watching so intently on my phone again?"

"My bad, I was just—"

Miyuki freezes. The phone clatters to the tiled floor as he looks up and sees Furuya staring at him, distaste plastered on his face.

"You're awake?! When did you—how did you—you're awake!" Miyuki leans forward. He pats Furuya up and down as if searching for a dangerous weapon, trying to confirm that this was real life and not a dream, "You have no idea how relieved I am!"

Furuya brushes him off, peeved, "How come every time I'm asleep, or you think I'm asleep, you go through my phone? What are you trying to find? I genuinely don't appreciate that, Miyuki-senpai. Pick it up."

As far as Miyuki is concerned, Furuya has been in a coma for the last five days, but his coherent manner of speech and lack of grogginess have him mystified.

"I'm lost," he says as he grabs Furuya's phone and sets it on the bedside table, "How do you have your bearings already? Do you know where you are right now? Don't move, I'll call the nurses."

"Oh. I've been awake for two days."

"…excuse me? What? Are you being serious?"

"Yes."

"So you were pretending?"

"Yes."

"What?! Why the hell would you do that to me?!"

"To punish you for getting hurt. Sawamura came and told me what happened, so I hatched a plan."

"You little…" A vein emerges on Miyuki's face, "I knew you would pull a stunt like that, but tugging on my poor heartstrings is not funny. I was worried sick, creating scenarios about my lone future with the kids and you just laid there, listening to my woes? How much did you hear?"

Furuya strokes his chin, knowing precisely which buttons to press to extract his favorite reaction from Miyuki, "Not much. Only the parts where you went, 'Oh, Furuya, I can't live without you, please wake up, I need you, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you weren't here, you make me go crazy.'"

Miyuki gives him a dubious look, racking his memory for any recollection of those words, "You're embellishing the life out of whatever you heard, and I definitely did not say that last part."

Furuya points to his phone that's still displaying the contents of his Hidden folder, "You may not have said it, but I was on the right track. I hide these for a reason. Were you…getting impatient and going searching for some material?"

"Don't make this weird. Why would I be that desperate when I could literally use the Internet?"

"I literally heard you say you wanted to send these videos to yourself."

"Literally, this argument is over."

"Refusing to take accountability, huh? Typical Miyuki-sen—"

Furuya does a double-take at his hand and realizes that his fourth finger is occupied by a ring. He isn't jewelry-savvy, aside from the piercings he wore when he was younger, but it seems to be a simple silver band with a small, square diamond pronged in the center.

"What is this?" he asks, his chest tightening.

Miyuki rubs the back of his neck, a peach-colored tint painting his cheeks.

"About time you noticed," he says, pouting, "It's a ring, obviously. I know what you're probably thinking: what gives me the right to buy you that? I asked myself that question and couldn't quite answer it. It's incredibly selfish, but I want security and certainty. People I care about in life don't tend to stay long, whether it is or isn't through no fault of my own. While you were in a coma, I got scared. Really, really freaking scared.

"I thought, 'not again.' I just needed one person to stay, and I needed it to be you. I started recalling the time you first approached me with the news and loathed how immaturely and insensitively I reacted. Even though I was dating Sawamura then, I'd give anything for a do-over.

"All you wanted was for me to take responsibility, but I shunned you and humiliated you because you weren't "part of the plan." If this is how the plan unfolds, with you agreeing to marry me and staying with me, despite all of my problems and shortcomings…I'll finally be able to forgive myself."

Furuya doesn't combat the urge to swing his legs off his bed and hug Miyuki's head against his chest. He holds him soothingly, caressing the bandages that conceal his hair, and he exhales softly when Miyuki wraps his arms around his waist.

'Miyuki-senpai's been vulnerable with me several times,' Furuya thinks, 'but this is different. He was concerned about me, not just as the mother of his twins, but as a person he's gradually realized he needs. To keep him stable, to help him sleep, and to build the family he was deprived of.

'It does sting, though, knowing he doesn't like me back. Maybe he's hesitating because he's afraid, or he's punishing himself in that weird Miyuki-senpai way that I don't understand. Whatever the reason is, I'll challenge it and make him say those three words. One day.'

Furuya releases Miyuki and nods, "I'll marry you," he says.

They loop pinkies and tap their thumbs, renewing their promise.

"I'm ashamed you haven't done your research, however," Furuya continues, "Same-sex marriage isn't legal here, whereas, in standard marriages, the man has to be at least eighteen and the woman sixteen, but we can disregard that since it doesn't apply to us. So, legally, we can't be married, but I have no qualms about being…situationally married between ourselves if that makes sense."

"That sounded oddly rehearsed," Miyuki chuckles.

"It was a presentation topic I chose in middle school. One of my proudest moments."

"Fine. Situationally married, eh? There's probably a proper term for it, but I'll take what I can get. Pleased to meet ya, wifey."

"…"

"No good?"

"Cringe. I almost vomited. Say those words again and this will be the shortest marriage in history."

"Haha! I knew that would get you. By the way, do you like the ring?"

Furuya lifts his hand to the light and the diamond catches it, sparkling with each subtle flick of his wrist.

"It's nice," he responds, smiling.

"Perfect, 'cause it's absolute bull!" Miyuki shoots him a thumbs up, unleashing his notorious shit-eating grin, "I bought it from the discount store for five bucks. I was banking on the fact you wouldn't notice, and everything's worked out swell! Wow, who knew discount stores sold realistic rings for dirt cheap? That came in clutch big time!"

Furuya's smile disintegrates, his hand dropping to his lap, "What? It's not real?"

"Hell, no! What do I look like spending money on an actually expensive ring and risk being rejected, effectively ruining my proposal? I'm not Kuramochi."

Furuya gasps at Miyuki's diss. He promptly jumps off his bed and starts speed-walking away, "Poking fun at one of my favorite upperclassmen is inexcusable."

"Hey, where are you going?" Miyuki asks, "Don't throw the ring away, I'll buy a better one down the line!"

"I'm going to tell Kuramochi-senpai you said that!" Furuya shouts from afar.

"Huh? What do you mean? He's here?!"

Furuya pauses and turns around, "Yes."

He resumes walking and Miyuki clumsily wheels after him, panicking.

"Wait!" he shouts, "Don't be a snitch! That was supposed to be between us as a married couple! He's gonna kill me! S-Stop walking so fast, I can't keep up in this stupid wheelchair. Furuya, wait! Crap, I'm a dead man…"

--

Officially discharged from the hospital, Furuya and Miyuki are preparing for their new lives together as a family.

Kasumi and Shinichiro have rented a spacious three-bedroom apartment for them in Tokyo, in close proximity to Seido and a shopping center for optimal convenience.

After scoping out the apartment and thanking Kasumi for choosing one with a stunning kitchen, Miyuki heads to his place to gather the rest of his affairs.

There's no signature mechanical whirring, no audible movement from his father's room. The house is quiet, save for the wooden floorboards creaking under his weight as he roams around, folding clothes and collecting accessories. He packs the stuffed animal on his desk, a potential snuggling companion for the kids when they reach that age.

His room cleared out, Miyuki bids it farewell and closes the door.

"I'm off," he says to the air as he reaches the entrance and puts on his shoes.

The shattered picture frame and vase of wilted roses linger in his peripheral as he leaves the house, dragging his suitcase behind him.

Several days later, Miyuki receives a call from a family friend. He's informed that his father had passed away from a heart attack in his sleep.

What Miyuki doesn't know, however, is that it occurred the exact instant he woke up from surgery.

Be it a transcendent phenomenon or a freaky coincidence, it was Kazuhiko's final act of fatherhood, unknowingly trading his life for his son's.