Work Text:
Yamamoto
“Yama-san, you're leaving already?”
Yamamoto Teruhisa patted down the front of his suit, smoothing out any remaining creases before turning around. “Yup. The Kishimura zaibatsu's president is known to be punctual, so I guess I better leave a little early.”
Akita Wakahiro replied with an encouraging smile. “The presentation tonight locks the deal, right? Yama-san is really good at speaking, I think you'll do well.”
“Seriously, why is it always me?” Yamamoto laughed and pointed an accusing finger at his younger colleague. “Akita-kun, you should tag along on one of these business dinners sometimes.”
“I– I'm not very good at socializing. I'm afraid I'm gonna mess things up.” Akita rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking a little like an untrained dog messing up his commands.
“But are you confident with these calculations you gave me, though?”
“One hundred percent.” Akita straightened up at the mention of his work. “On a scale from one to ten, I give those calculations a solid ten point five. Bonus half points because I ran them through four different disaster models and all of them yield solid outcomes in terms of safety.”
Yamamoto chuckled to himself. As much as Akita reminded him of a silly big dog that shared his namesake, when it comes to his job as a civil engineer, the boy had unmatched confidence and the skills to boot. Sure, his social skills still need polishing, but Yamamoto never needed to worry about Akita's construction plans. And so did everyone else in the firm.
“Alright then, I'm off.” Yamamoto stretched and sighed loudly, releasing the tension he didn't know he was holding. “Wish me luck!”
Akita bowed down to a perfect forty-five degree angle, showing off the results of his training as a junior staff. “Good luck with the presentation!”
Yamamoto laughed and gave his junior one final wave before heading out, making his way to the taxi waiting in front of his office building.
It's all or nothing tonight.
– ** –
Kitazawa
If there's something that would be the death of Kitazawa Tatsunosuke, he was convinced that a simple tie knot might be it.
Long one on the right, cross to the left, down to the right, slip up, slip down. Kitazawa sighed as the silk tie ended up in a shapeless bunch around his neck for the third time that day. It wasn't as if he had so much time to prepare – punctuality was everything in this family, and it had been drilled into Kitazawa's mind for a long, long time. Still, to struggle with something as simple as putting on a tie was kind of out of place in his impeccable life.
Kitazawa pulled the tie over his head, still in a loop, and he stared at it trying to decide if it was worth trying another time. Behind him, he could hear the sound of closet door opening, and the soft thud of shoes falling on hardwood floor.
“Tatsu-san, are you ready?”
The soft question was followed by pitter-patter on the floor, the sound of someone approaching him. “Oh, my. Do you need help with that?”
Kitazawa held out his tie sheepishly, letting his wife take over. Rika took the tie from him and untied the knot, straightening up the tie without showing any sign of trouble. Then she looped the fabric around Kitazawa's neck, working quickly until a proper knot was on display, seemingly in no time.
“I seem to never get better at this.” He chuckled as he fixed his collars, noticing the way his tie fit perfectly underneath.
Rika was already dressed in a simple evening dress with a short blazer on her arm, looking equal parts professional and elegant, despite being barefooted. She always preferred putting on her shoes near the front door after all. She laughed, gathering her purse and shoes from around the room to get herself ready.
“It's okay, Tatsu-san. I'll help you put on your tie forever.”
Kitazawa watched her leave with a soft smile playing on his lips. For being the youngest daughter of a real estate conglomerate, Rika was not nearly as spoiled or snobbish as she could have been. Instead, she chose humility and kindness, and simple joys in life – which is, perhaps, why their marriage came easily.
Kitazawa was well aware that this arranged marriage was for the convenience of both families, staking multiple companies and thousands of employees, but he didn't mind at all. This had been his life from the beginning – where he went to school, which company he should start his career from, and which conglomerate to form an alliance with – it had been meticulously planned by his father. He ran his son's life the same way he ran his company – and Kitazawa wasn't one to complain. The company was way too big to let fall. At least he was lucky that his partner was someone like Rika – she was easy to befriend, easy to live with, and to some extent, also easy to love.
Though Kitazawa wasn't sure if that word was ever meant to be used in their relationship.
– ** –
“As always, Inaba-kun, I know I can trust you to do this job.”
“We are always indebted to you, President.” Inaba, the senior architect in the firm, bowed politely and offered to pour another glass of sake – which the president accepted gleefully.
Yamamoto observed his surroundings discreetly, sending out a polite smile to anyone who managed to catch his eyes. It took him less than five minutes after arriving to assess everyone present in the private room. He noticed the technical team – staff from the financial institution and the construction company – positioning themselves as far away as possible from the head of the table. In his own group, Yamamoto had his boss, the director of the architect firm, and Inaba, his senior. The three of them sat closer to the highest seat of the table, where the president of Kishimura zaibatsu sat. Sitting on his left and right were his secretary, an efficient middle-aged gentleman, and two young people – the president's married daughter and his son-in-law.
“We have some really promising young people in the firm.” Inaba announced, sending Yamamoto an inconspicuous glance. “Yamamoto-kun here is in charge of this project's designs, and I promise you, President, he’s not going to disappoint you.”
Yamamoto smiled and bowed politely, muttering a bit or two of formal greetings that seemed to please the president. The elderly gentleman let out a guffaw and swept his hand across the room, stopping at the young man sitting near him.
“I have one in my corner too, and I'm happy to announce that this young man will be the person in charge from our side.” He glanced at the young man, who also gave the room a polite bow. “Kitazawa Tatsunosuke might be young, but he's capable and savvy. In no time I think he's going to surpass me in my own business.”
“You're praising me too much, President.” The son-in-law smiled and poured the president a glass, followed by another glass for Yamamoto's boss.
“Well, what can I say, if you can tame my daughter, you can conquer anything in this world!”
The remark sent another wave of laughter across the room, triggered by the young lady rolling her eyes playfully at her father. The atmosphere in the room was more relaxed than what Yamamoto expected a business dinner would be based on his past experiences.
Yamamoto loosened his shoulders a little and sipped what's left of sake in his own cup, savoring the taste as his mind wandered. What was life like for these golden spoons? Yamamoto wasn't so naive as to think that rich people had no problems, but he was never rich enough to know exactly what mattered for people who had enough money to flip the world with their bare hands. It's always been a curious thing for him, ever since he started stepping foot in the wonderful world of adulthood, but at the same time, he didn't know if he wanted that badly to find out. For what it's worth, it could be a scary world beyond his expectations, and Yamamoto wasn't that much of a curious cat.
His thoughts were interrupted when a bottle of sake entered his field of vision, cradled carefully by slender hands – the fingers were bony, the skin dark, and the gold wedding band seemed to gleam under the artificial lights. Yamamoto blinked and looked up. The president's son in law was offering to fill his glass.
“Saw that your glass had been empty for a while.” The man remarked, setting down the bottle and lifting his own half-filled sake cup. “I'd say we toast to mark the start of this project. You're the person in charge from the firm, right?”
“Yes. Yes, that's right.” Yamamoto hurriedly made the toast and downed his drink, and started fiddling around with his bag to find a name card. “My name is Yamamoto Teruhisa. I look forward to this collaboration.”
He handed over the card properly with both hands. The president's son-in-law received it equally politely and sounded out his name. “Yamamoto Teruhisa. It's a pretty unique kanji.”
“My parents wanted to stand out.” Yamamoto smiled sheepishly at the man.
“It suits you.” The other smiled back. “I'm Kitazawa. Kitazawa Tatsunosuke.”
“Tatsunosuke, written like the dragon?”
“That one. Yes.”
“Surprisingly, it suits you too.” Yamamoto laughed, and then quickly corrected himself. “Oh, no. I'm sorry. I hope I'm not too crass.”
“Not at all.” Kitazawa chuckled and held out a hand. “I look forward to working with you too, Yamamoto-san.”
When Yamamoto took the outstretched hand, it was the first time he felt the strong grip that seemingly enveloped him.
– ** –
The dragon.
The dragon was asleep, all alone in a dark cave.
Then light started pouring in.
“Tatsu-san, you're not listening.”
Kitazawa blinked himself awake and glanced at his wife. “Sorry. What was that?”
“I said, they seem to be good people.” Rika chuckled, and it took Kitazawa a few seconds to realize that she was talking about the people from the architecture firm. “We both know that Father is really sensitive to personalities, so if he keeps working with the same company again and again, it means they're really good people.”
“Oh. Yeah, that firm is good. The director is really trustworthy, and Inaba-san is a competent architect too. So I heard from Father.”
“That new architect they brought in seemed nice too. Yamamoto-san, wasn't it?” Rika hummed, seemingly jogging back her memories from earlier. “He looked about the same age as us, and yet he's already taking on a project this big. He must be really capable.”
At the mention of Yamamoto Teruhisa, Kitazawa's mind wandered back to that dinner table and Yamamoto's first genuine smile. For the most part of the evening, he seemed tense, looking a little too afraid to make the wrong remark or laugh at the wrong moment. His laughter when they introduced their first names was the first genuine smile Kitazawa saw from him. What could Yamamoto be thinking at that time? Perhaps he was imagining Kitazawa, as a dragon with human head? Or a dragon wearing neatly pressed suit leading a meeting in the boardroom?”
“Tatsu-san, do you think ghosts eat rice or bread?”
It took Kitazawa another couple seconds of thinking, trying to answer Rika's question seriously, before he realized that his wife was teasing him. Kitazawa shot her a glare, slightly embarrassed to be so lost in thought, which Rika replied with an amused grin.
“Are you okay?” She laughed and pressed a palm against his cheek, feigning worry. “I know you're not big on drinking alcohol, but a simple dinner party normally won’t daze you this much, would it?”
“Sorry. I had no idea what happened to my brain today. It's embarrassing.”
“Well, I guess we’ll just head to an early night, then.” Again, Rika chuckled lightly and settled back into her seat, busying herself with reading her group chats with her best friends.
From where he was sitting, next to her, Kitazawa observed Rika closely, watching her lips curl up into a girlish smile. Rika was beautiful, light-hearted, and kind. Loving her would be the easiest thing in the world if he ever tried. If he tried.
But tonight… Kitazawa sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before directing his gaze outside the car. He wanted to keep his eyes closed if only – if only Yamamoto Teruhisa’s smile would stop replaying behind his eyelids. It was one moment, just one moment when their eyes met and when they took each other’s hand in a businesslike handshake – and Kitazawa was ashamed to admit that the few seconds of contact felt… electrifying. Like he'd never been touched before. Like he was a dragon sleeping in darkness until the first rays of light awakened him.
And Kitazawa knew that whatever those feelings might be… it wasn’t supposed to stick around. It shouldn’t.
– ** –
“How’s things going with that project, Yama-san?”
Yamamoto stopped typing and looked up from his screen. From the desk across his own, Akita was staring, his eyes full of curiosity.
“It’s good.” Yamamoto gave a simple answer, but continued speaking after a short pause. “I mean, yeah. It’s still a little too early to say for sure but so far, everything’s been on schedule and without serious issues. I think we’re going to do well on this.”
“That’s good.” Akita smiled. “So… things are good with the partner too?”
Yamamoto froze. “The– partner?”
“The person-in-charge from their side.” Akita clarified, pushing back slightly on his seat. “I heard the project supervisor from their side is a new guy, right? The Kishimura zaibatsu’s…”
“Oh. Oh– yeah, you’re right.” Yamamoto forced his shoulders to relax. “Kitazawa-san – he’s the president’s son-in-law, but he has a background in management and has worked on similar projects before.”
Yamamoto chuckled to soften the atmosphere – perhaps only around himself. “Honestly, when we started working together, I was worried that he would be incompetent, like someone who only got to their position through connections and whatnot. Happy to learn that I was wrong. He’s actually really capable.”
“That’s nice to hear. Not a lot of rich people like that nowadays.” Akita replied lightly and returned to his work, smiling every time his eyes flicker up to meet Yamamoto’s. A slightly awkward, gentle smile. Yamamoto kept his eyes in his direction for a few more seconds before looking away, trying to focus back on his own screen with little success.
He could feel Akita glancing at him every now and then. It was a completely normal occurrence, one that was totally expected with the way their workspace was set up. Still, after their initial conversation, Yamamoto couldn’t help but to feel intensely self-conscious. Akita’s gaze felt unusually sharp behind his round glasses, like he could see past the barriers Yamamoto had struggled to put around himself. Or maybe Yamamoto was just feeling that out of his own guilt.
Kitazawa-san. The moment that name escaped his lips, Yamamoto remembered sitting in the passenger seat of the man's car. They were just returning from a visit to the construction site. It was early evening, and the sun seemed to set much quicker behind the rain clouds settling down. Kitazawa had brought his own car to the site, citing that he preferred driving on his own rather than being driven around using the company cars. He offered Yamamoto to take a hitch down to the train station – a twenty-minute drive that would take Yamamoto forty minutes or more on the public transport. With a deep bow – that hopefully hid the faint blush on his cheeks – Yamamoto gratefully accepted the offer.
Kitazawa hung his suit jacket neatly behind his seat and rolled his sleeves up before he started to drive. Said something about hating the way his suit distracted him. Yamamoto barely heard half of the things he said, because he was distracted by Kitazawa's left arm – muscular arm adorned with an unassuming but expensive watch.
But just as Yamamoto tried to look away – he caught another glimpse of Kitazawa's wedding band. The thick, elegant gold band gleaming under the streetlights. The short reflection hit him like a lightning strike, bringing him back to real life in the most painful way. He was deeply ashamed to ever think different thoughts about the man sitting next to him. Kitazawa was incredibly nice to him – sure, but he was also nice to everyone else. That's just the way he was brought up, with a golden spoon in his mouth and strict manners outside. Though they talked like friends and laughed like friends and made a promise to meet up again shortly afterwards, all Yamamoto could see was his wedding band. It seemed to laugh at him – laughing at someone who dared to harbor a crush on a married man.
Yamamoto never said a word that alluded to his crush to anyone, but he instinctively knew that those feelings would continue to haunt him down – long after he stepped off the car.
– ** –
Kitazawa stared at the blank screen of his office computer, counting down as the seconds passed.
It was pretty much a slow day, quite a rare occasion in the life of Kitazawa Tatsunosuke. Having gotten out of a morning meeting earlier in the day, Kitazawa had spent the rest of his morning sorting through the documents his secretary had thoughtfully arranged, reading each and every single one of them and adding his signature where necessary. It was a mundane thing, one that Kitazawa had learned to do quite early in his career, and one that he could seamlessly finish in no time nowadays. His secretary had retreated with a joyful expression after getting the documents back from him, and probably busied herself with following up on them for the rest of the day. For Kitazawa himself, there was nothing particular to do afterwards. In the relative privacy of his office, people were less likely to bother him, and Kitazawa couldn't help but to let his mind wander.
To him, this one construction project had been unusually challenging.
It wasn't about the construction itself – Kitazawa had monitored the entire thing closely from the beginning, and things were going extremely well. If anything, he was confident that they would complete the construction on schedule, if not way ahead, and well within their planned budgets. It was the thought of having to spend time with the lead architect – Yamamoto Teruhisa – that sent his mind spinning.
And no – it wasn't because Yamamoto was stupid, or incompetent, or just incredibly annoying or anything. In fact, it was just the other way round. Yamamoto had proved – from the get-go – that him being a team leader in a bona fide architecture firm at a young age wasn't just a fluke. He was smart and efficient and cared about details as much as Kitazawa himself. In some of the projects that Kitazawa worked for before, check-in meetings were often just a formality, where the construction team just said yes to whatever the financiers suggested, no matter how absurd it was. Yamamoto was nowhere near that.
Kitazawa was pleasantly surprised to find himself staying behind long after the formal meetings ended – having lengthy debates with Yamamoto about the three most important things in construction – quality, safety, and cost efficiency. Far from his initial quiet and meek image, Yamamoto was passionate when it came to his line of work. He was intellectual without being patronizing, and wasn't afraid to push back when he was confident in his opinion. Kitazawa liked that – he always loved a good challenge. It only became a problem when the thing he liked started to shift – from just that to Yamamoto himself.
They often went to supervise the construction in person. The first few times, they each arrived separately and only met up at the site, leaving in different cars afterwards. Then one time, Kitazawa offered to give Yamamoto a ride to the train station, which he accepted with a grateful bow. With Yamamoto sitting in the passenger seat of his car – things began to feel different. Their conversations flowed more comfortably. The stiff formality began to drop. From strictly co-workers – people who worked on the same project together – they started to befriend each other.
And after this— what?
Kitazawa felt his stomach drop as the question began to haunt him again. Of course there would be no after this, there would be no next. One day, this project was going to end, and so would their connection be. Maybe the strictly professional kind of connection won't just end, but there was absolutely no reason to stay friends.
And to be more than friends – there was no such option from the very beginning.
Kitazawa was married. Even if he wasn't, he wouldn't know how Yamamoto felt about it. And if he does find out someday – none of it would matter anyway, because he was married. Arranged marriage, yes, marriage for convenience, yes, but still married. And Rika was a good person – Kitazawa wouldn't dream of harming her. He was not a complete monster.
But still, Yamamoto Teruhisa's smile haunted his dreams.
The soft, genuine smile.
The crescent moon of his eyes.
Kitazawa feared the next time he had to do another site visit with Yamamoto.
He was terrified of what his impulses might lead him to do afterwards.
– ** –
It was a sudden evening rain.
Rather than just a shower, it was actually closer to a storm. It was nowhere near what the weather forecast predicted. The rainwater crashed against the windows of the bar, creating a barrier between the people inside and the world outside. For most people, the windows served to protect them, keeping them safe and dry despite the raging storm outside. For Yamamoto Teruhisa, the rain was keeping him trapped – a prisoner in his own mind.
The day began just like any other – Yamamoto, arriving in the office, giving Inaba and the director a short update on the construction progress first thing in the morning. The director approved his plans, but there was just one thing that Inaba wanted him to reconfirm with the construction company as soon as possible. Yamamoto had left the office shortly before lunch, heading straight to the site where he could find the project technical lead. He was just finishing up his inquiries when Kitazawa Tatsunosuke arrived.
Unlike their previous encounters in the construction site, this one was completely unplanned. Yamamoto was unsure if it was just his own imagination, but Kitazawa seemed pleasantly surprised to find him there. They exchanged the usual greetings – Kitazawa explaining his sudden visit and Yamamoto doing the same – and (“since we're both already here anyways”) they ended up having another lengthy discussion about what the next steps were gonna look like.
Yamamoto had expected things to happen like last time – Kitazawa would invite him to ride together to the train station, and they would have twenty minutes to talk as friends – not two people in charge of a project, just friends. Surprisingly, this time, Kitazawa made a different proposition.
“It's still pretty early. Do you have other plans after this?”
The thought of reports and slide decks crossed Yamamoto's mind, but he found himself shaking his head. Kitazawa shot him a grin and pointed vaguely at the general direction of the town.
“I just found a nice little hidden bar. What do you say we have a glass before going home today?”
And so, that's where they ended up – at a corner table in the bar, when the air was still warm and slightly damp before the rain. Kitazawa and himself ordered a glass each, with appetizers to share, and they savored it slowly while having an endless small talk. Yamamoto learned that Kitazawa had two hobbies that seemingly opposed each other – cooking and working out.
“It's not that strange, though.” Kitazawa explained with a chuckle after Yamamoto expressed his amazement. “Muscle building has everything to do with the meals you eat.”
Yamamoto, a little bit sheepish, told him that he'd always wanted to learn how to cook. He just didn't seem to have the hands for it. “I know a good restaurant when I walk into it, but I can never make my own meals without messing up some things.” He ended it with a laugh.
“I'll teach you sometime, and you can take me to some of your favorite restaurants.” Kitazawa nonchalantly remarked, taking a sip of his cocktail. Yamamoto didn't know how to answer him without spluttering. The alcohol he drank to calm down left a burn in its trail. Outside the bar, it was starting to rain.
There were plenty of other patrons in the bar, having conversations amidst the noise of rain and light jazz, but Yamamoto couldn't stop fidgeting, feeling eyes on him even though there were none. At a glance, it seemed like a completely normal thing to do – two friends making a stop at the bar after work, chatting and sharing drinks. He saw many others like them in this bar alone – there was nothing weird about what they did.
If only everyone could see what Yamamoto was feeling, though – seated opposite Kitazawa and hearing him talk, watching the sharp angles of his eyebrows smooth down as he laughed. Yamamoto's hands were cold but his heart was warm, warm with something he didn't want to explain. Yamamoto knew that this was wrong – this, no matter which angle it was seen from, was wrong. He couldn't be feeling like this. He shouldn't be feeling like this. He shouldn't let himself get carried away, thinking happy thoughts about someone who was just trying to be nice. Someone who just wanted to be friends. He shouldn't be thinking differently about Kitazawa and his deep dark eyes, his nice smile, the strong grip of his hand, and—
“I wish this rain would last a little bit longer.”
Yamamoto thought he was hallucinating, or drunk – he saw Kitazawa looking outside at the rain that was starting to mellow down, an unreadable gaze in his eyes. Was that a hint of faint blush across Kitazawa's face? Perhaps it was just the lights reflecting off things and making him see what's not there.
“I like this weather.” Kitazawa muttered as he finished his drink in a hurry. Yamamoto felt his heart skip a beat alongside the thunderstrike in the distance. His own cocktail was all gone and he was tempted to order another just to calm his heart. But he was too afraid of alcohol doing the exact opposite.
Yamamoto fidgeted with the edge of his glass, trying not to look at Kitazawa.
And there it was – a sudden vibration, interrupting the quiet in between. Yamamoto patted down his own suit out of habit before realizing that it was coming from Kitazawa. The sharp angle of Kitazawa's eyebrows returned for a split second, and softened again as he looked at the screen before answering the call.
Kitazawa spoke in a hushed voice, masked by the sound of the rain, but it wasn't difficult to figure out who was calling. The reminder of their situation settled down on Yamamoto's chest along with another thunderstrike. This wasn't meant to be. They weren't meant to be.
Kitazawa was subtly hinting that he too felt the same – but still, for Yamamoto to wish that the warmth between them would last for a little while – was unthinkable.
– ** –
To be completely frank, Kitazawa hated coming to the architecture firm.
The main office was located in a nice building, taking up the seventh through ninth floor. Floor seven for the receptionist and displays, floor eight for the meeting rooms and administration offices, and floor nine where the actual design and calculation happens. Kitazawa had only made his way to the ninth floor once, when he visited for the first time and had an office tour guided by Yamamoto. It was actually a really nice place to work at. The people were nice too – except that one of them scared him
The civil engineer in Yamamoto's team was young, but entirely competent. The first time he saw the construction plan, Kitazawa thought the young man might be a genius. He was polite too, always looking people in the eye and bowing deeply at them at every greeting.
But there was something… disconcerting about Akita Wakahiro that caused Kitazawa discomfort every time he was left alone with the young engineer too long. Behind his round glasses, Akita hid a pair of sharp eyes, undoubtedly one of his stronger charm points. Those weren’t the eyes of someone who grew up learning office politics – they were always so straightforward and so honest, two deep pools that hid nothing. Maybe that's why for Kitazawa, it felt like Akita was always looking past his act. An honest person could sense another's dishonesty. In front of other people, Kitazawa was confident that he could flawlessly play the role of business partner to Yamamoto Teruhisa. Like they were just coworkers who just found out that they had lots of things in common and were eager to become friends.
But for some reason, Kitazawa kept feeling like Akita knew.
Perhaps it was just his own illusion. Falling in love with someone you shouldn't tend to turn someone paranoid, like everyone was watching their every move, waiting for the mask to slip. Akita was never cold or threatening, nor did he say anything to prove his suspicions (or even that he was suspicious at all), but Kitazawa could never feel calm around him.
Like today, just as they were finishing the project update meeting. There was a bit of time left over to socialize, and Kitazawa casually invited everyone for a drink (at least he hoped it came off as casual). The two junior architects apologetically declined, citing a scheduled meeting with the company that manufactured items for their building mock-ups. Other senior team members already left. Yamamoto and Akita were the only ones who remained.
“Drinks sounds good, Kitazawa-san.” Yamamoto enthusiastically replied, saying something about a delicious restaurant with a nice bar. Kitazawa nodded and smiled at his response before turning his attention to Akita.
“And you, Akita-kun?”
Akita, in the middle of packing up his belongings, paused. "I– I've never been good with alcohol, unfortunately..."
"How about just dinner? They probably have non-alcoholic drinks too."
“Ah... I just happened to have a prior commitment regarding dinner." Akita bowed deeply. "My apologies.”
“Oh, well, can't be helped. Maybe next time, then.” Kitazawa waved a hand and sent him a nonchalant smile – as nonchalantly as he could muster. Akita bowed one more time, his eyes still not betraying anything.
Kitazawa only realized how tense his muscles were after Akita left the room, shutting the glass door behind him and heading straight towards the elevator. Kitazawa watched him until he completely disappeared, and then his shoulders relaxed a little. Did Akita really have somewhere to be, or was he just trying to get out of dinner with Yamamoto and himself? If it was the latter – why? Did he think it would be awkward to have a casual dinner with his senior and someone from another company? Or did he notice something going on between them, and simply didn't wish to intrude? But, surely, he must have known– that this kind of relationship was not supposed to be. If so, then why wasn't he trying to stop them?
At the sound of elevator doors opening, Kitazawa came back to himself. Right. There was no reason to be that insanely paranoid. Maybe Akita did have a dinner date – after all, he was young and quite attractive, he could easily have a lover or two despite his awkward demeanor. Or maybe he was just incredibly introverted and didn’t want to go on dinners with coworkers unless absolutely necessary.
As the elevator made its way to the basement parking area, it was packed with people getting on at every floor. Kitazawa was pushed towards the back while Yamamoto stood against him with an apologetic smile, his face only inches away. Kitazawa was only a bit taller and now they were closer than ever. With people shifting inside the cramped elevator, Kitazawa could feel Yamamoto's cold fingers brush slightly against his hand. He wondered if he could just take Yamamoto's hand in his to warm them up, letting the wave of people shield their hands from view.
At the lobby floor, the elevator gained some breathing room with a few people getting off, and Yamamoto pulled back before Kitazawa could imagine anything more.
– ** –
Kitazawa had been unusually quiet ever since they left the office.
Yamamoto had no idea what was going on, but he didn't dare to ask. After all, by the time they arrived at the restaurant, Kitazawa had returned to his usual self. This was a restaurant that Yamamoto himself recommended, so Kitazawa was asking him questions about the cuisine, his favorite dishes, how he ended up discovering the place, and various other mundane things. The atmosphere melted into the usual comfort and Yamamoto’s questions faded into the background.
But Kitazawa went quiet again after the dinner as they stepped back into the car and it was even more palpable than before. The music playing softly from the speakers did nothing to alleviate the heavy atmosphere. Yamamoto sat silently in his seat and made himself small, silently wondering what went wrong and what Kitazawa was worried about. Kitazawa chose a non-alcoholic drink on account of having to get back on the road soon, so there was no reason to blame it on alcohol this time.
“Do you have anything else to do tonight?” Kitazawa suddenly asked, and the gears in Yamamoto’s mind spun full force just to answer that simple question, finally shaking his head after a few quiet seconds.
“Then, I'm sorry. I took the wrong turn.”
Kitazawa stepped on the gas pedal and brought the car towards the highway. Yamamoto did not protest or question him, because he understood what Kitazawa was trying to do. Kitazawa's eyes, reflected in the rearview mirror, were full of determination and something else Yamamoto couldn't quite pinpoint just yet.
The song changed and Yamamoto began quietly humming along, watching the lights outside as the car sped through the highway, leaving the town behind. If only leaving was truly this easy. But it wasn't easy – Yamamoto knew. If he had wondered before what kind of problems a golden spoon child has, he learned that this might be one. Yamamoto was successful in his career, but he could very well drop everything tomorrow and nothing – at large – would change much. People might notice the dent he left behind for a day or two, but the gears would keep grinding and the world would revolve anyway.
But it would be a much different case for Kitazawa – as someone whose fate of thousands relied on him playing his predetermined role in the world. He couldn't leave, he couldn't disappear, and he couldn't stop playing that role even if only for a day. Yamamoto couldn't figure out how much of Kitazawa's current life was his own wish and how much of it was pushed onto him, and he never dared to guess. Nonetheless, he was aware that it couldn't be all forced. To some extent, Kitazawa definitely understood the life he was living and made some choices out of his own will. It seemed, the choices have served him well so far.
Yamamoto was aware that this, too, was a choice. Kitazawa was standing in between two worlds. Would he value this infatuation more than his carefully crafted life? If so – what would happen to the life he left behind? The lives he left behind? Yamamoto knew that the aftermath would be much bigger than he had ever imagined. Even if his own life didn't matter that much, it’s Kitazawa's presence that mattered, and if Yamamoto had taken him away, he would have to share the burden of the thousands of lives they impacted. Yamamoto wasn't sure if he had it within himself to shoulder something as heavy as that.
Yamamoto heard the soft vibration coming from a cellphone and almost patted himself down again by instinct – realizing a little quicker now that it was coming from Kitazawa's phone. He stared at the owner of the phone, watching Kitazawa barely react to the call. The phone vibrated incessantly, waiting to be picked up, as if with increasing urgency.
“Are you not going to take that?” He finally asked, unable to withstand it any longer.
Kitazawa glanced at his suit hanging behind the seat before focusing back on the road. “I'm driving. It's hard to stop on the highway.”
The vibration stopped. “We were checking some materials with suppliers out of town. I took a wrong turn driving back and had to take a detour through the highway.”
Yamamoto understood that it was their cover story for the day. When the cellphone started vibrating again, Kitazawa reached towards the panels to turn the song's volume up.
This, too, was a choice.
Yamamoto stared at him for a few more seconds before shifting his gaze towards the outside, singing along to the love song.
– ** –
Kitazawa had never felt so drained before – like his energy had been leaching out slowly over the course of the day, leaving him with nothing by the end of the day. It was almost midnight when he finally reached home. He tried not to make any noise to avoid disturbing other inhabitants of the house, slipping into the bathroom and letting the shower rain down on him. It did nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. If anything, it reminded him of one rainy day – the day he sat opposite Yamamoto Teruhisa and spent the entire afternoon watching him smile.
Kitazawa stepped out of the shower after the longest time, going through the motions of drying himself off without any awareness. As he stepped into the dimly lit bedroom, he only noticed that the bed was empty – Rika, still awake, stood in the far side of the room, putting her book on the small coffee table.
“Welcome home, Tatsu-san.”
True to her humble nature, Rika was dressed in comfortable clothes to sleep. The book she was reading was an English murder mystery, one of her favorite genres since university times. Her elegance didn't fade even with the dim light and simple pajamas. Kitazawa looked at his wife for a long time – watching her soft smile and curious eyes and slightly raised eyebrows.
Before Kitazawa could think about it, he stepped forward and embraced her, feeling Rika's soft warmth against his body. Throughout their entire marriage, they cared about each other and respected each other, but physical affection was rare, for reasons that they never could explain. Maybe it was just the nature of their relationship – respectful, affectionate, but always a little careful, a little hesitant.
“Is something wrong?” Rika softly asked, and Kitazawa repeated his cover story with his eyes closed, still embracing her. She patted his shoulders gently and returned some words of affection, telling him that he did well and that he should rest. It suffocated him more than it should. Her affection, care, and kindness mingled with his guilt and created toxic fumes.
Kitazawa allowed Rika to bring him to bed, still not letting go of her. With the lights extinguished, he lay awake in the dark for some time, feeling the texture of her hair underneath his fingertips. The images in his mind formed a haunting picture – soft, gentle, kindhearted Rika interspersing with cheerful, carefree, electrifying Yamamoto Teruhisa.
For the longest time that night, Kitazawa Tatsunosuke cursed himself for being the greediest creature on earth.
– ** –
Soon, the project was nearing completion.
Yamamoto sat upright with squared shoulders as the project technical lead gave his presentation, explaining the things they had done and the few things remaining to do before the project could be wrapped up. Both the president of Kishimura zaibatsu and the director of his architecture firm were present, sitting next to each other in the highest seat of the table. Kitazawa – seated opposite Yamamoto himself – was listening intently, nodding along and taking a few notes here and there.
The presentation ended. The three of them took turns answering questions based on their roles in the project. Both the president and the director seemed pleased with their answers. The meeting ended within the expected sixty minutes, both Kitazawa and Yamamoto receiving pats on the back for their good work.
“I will stay behind with Yamamoto-san to work out some of the details.” Yamamoto heard Kitazawa state, to which the president agreed – patting Kitazawa on the shoulder and reminding him to come over for a weekend dinner. Yamamoto kept himself in a respectful bowing position until all of the most important stakeholders had left the room. Though Kitazawa was telling the truth about working out the details, there weren't actually a lot of things to discuss straight away. In the end, it was like they were just hanging out.
“It's unbelievable that this massive project is finally coming to the last steps.” Kitazawa remarked, and Yamamoto nodded in agreement.
“So many things had happened.”
“Feels like a hundred years, doesn't it?”
“But also too fast at the same time.” Yamamoto chuckled, shaking his head a little. “I'm glad about one thing, though.”
“Which is?”
“I managed to show you almost every restaurant in my recommendation list before this project ends.” He laughed, counting the restaurants with his hands. Kitazawa smiled at him.
“All of them? Already?”
“Well, not all.” Yamamoto's hand hung mid-air, his pinky finger remaining unfolded. “There's one that we haven't gone to.”
“Let's go, then.” Kitazawa shrugged. “Nothing wrong with going for an early dinner.”
Yamamoto smiled, easily agreeing to the suggestion. That was the response he was looking for.
If there's any good day to make a decision, then today was definitely one.
– ** –
At dinner, Kitazawa could easily see why Yamamoto put this restaurant last on the list.
Yamamoto was – true to his claim – a restaurant connoisseur. Every single place he had recommended was a hit in Kitazawa's book, but this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant was a cut above the rest. It was the kind of place that looked unassuming from the outside, but when they walked in, the ambience immediately won Kitazawa over. There weren't many seats, which kept the atmosphere intimate and private, and everything they put out was delicious, from the appetizers to the main course, even the desserts. The restaurant also had a great selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, and curiously, both Kitazawa and Yamamoto opted for non-alcoholic ones that night.
“Liver rest day.” Yamamoto jokingly raised his glass for a mock-toast, Kitazawa following suit with a laugh.
From being an early dinner, they ended up spending a long time in the restaurant – far longer than they had probably planned to. Time seems to fly when you enjoy yourself, and now Kitazawa can attest to that. They talked more than usual, laughed more than usual, and looked into each other's eyes far longer than usual, perhaps – for the first time, pushed by a force unknown – acknowledging the burning passion and love they had for each other.
When they finally stepped outside the restaurant, it was nighttime and pouring. They shared an umbrella walking to where the car was parked and Kitazawa made sure that Yamamoto got inside safely before making his way to the driver's seat.
Without saying a word, Kitazawa drove towards the highway. They had done this too many times, to the point that it had become a silent agreement – except that this time, there were no sounds, no music, no singing along, nothing. Just the two of them and the downpour. The city lights blended into the background like an abstract painting.
Even with no words being exchanged, Kitazawa instinctively knew that this night was unlike the previous nights. Yamamoto sat quietly next to him, watching the scenery pass by outside, blurred by their speed and the rain. His expression never betrayed his emotions, but Kitazawa noticed a quiet resolution in the way his lips were set. Their exit appeared in the distance and Kitazawa deliberately took a wrong turn directing them back towards the highway.
Just one last time.
They drove the rest of the way in silence, until the downpour subsided into a light shower. The night sky was thick and black with clouds. Kitazawa pulled over some twenty meters from the subway entrance, making sure that a canopy stood over where Yamamoto would get off. Yamamoto undid his seat belt and turned towards him, smiling and nodding as per usual.
Kitazawa waited for him to say something.
Yamamoto held his smile for three full seconds, until his lips parted and let out a silent sigh. It was Kitazawa's turn to hold his breath waiting for words. Yamamoto looked him in the eye firmly and ended the night with two words that rang with an air of finality.
“Thank you.”
Thank you.
Yamamoto's greeting was a thank you and goodbye all at once, even though one of them was left unsaid. It was present in his tone and the way Yamamoto carried himself getting out of the car. Kitazawa watched him walk away until he disappeared with the wave of people.
It's over.
Kitazawa's grip on the steering wheel loosened – he didn't realize that he'd been clutching them like a lifeline. Yamamoto had made the decision – one that Kitazawa had been too hesitant to make. The project that bound them together would soon end, but beyond that, everything between them had to end as well. It was clear as day, by the end, that they had loved each other and wanted each other. But what lay beyond the threads of fate linking them together was not eternal love. It was eternal damnation, hellfire bent on burning them to ashes and taking everything around them with it.
Kitazawa let out a long sigh, as if to let go of the last remaining pieces of regret.
Dragons are greedy creatures by nature, and there is truth in every depiction of dragons with hoards. Kitazawa Tatsunosuke understood his greed, and before this, he had always managed to use it to his own advantage. But this wasn't that benevolent kind of greed. This was dangerous greed and Yamamoto Teruhisa was well within his rights to walk away from this.
Kitazawa sat there for a long time before starting his car and driving away, noticing – for the first time – how dark the night sky was.
The dragon hides in its lair, deep within the earth
in the dark where the light can't reach.