Who you are really loyal to

Natsuo's lips were frozen in a straight line and his stare was empty, as if all life and emotion had been drained out of him. He sat with slumped shoulders, his hands limp in his lap and his head bowed down.

A door creaked open soon after and the white-haired man with a towel around his waist stepped into the room. He had a kind expression on his shaven face and his own pale brown eyes landed on the teal-haired figure.

"You haven't eaten yet?" Jiro asked as he lowered himself next to his boyfriend.

They both sat on the floor, cross-legged in front of the low table that contained a pot of miso soup with tofu, two small bowls of rice, and a plate of tempura vegetables.

Natsuo turned to look at him, realizing he had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed the other's entrance.

"What did you say?"

Jiro sighed and shook his head, reaching out to take Natsuo's hand on his own.

"I said, you haven't eaten yet? Your food is untouched."