cloversworld (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cloversworld) wrote2016-04-30 12:36 am
cloversworld) wrote2016-04-30 12:36 am
Fic: Paper Houses, chapters 1 & 2
Paper Houses 1&2/10
Uta no Prince-sama x La Corda d' Oro crossover
Jinguji Ren/Hijirikawa Masato, Tsuchiura Ryoutarou/Tsukimori Len
written for Small Fandoms Bang 2016 - round 5
written for Trope Bingo round 6, for the prompt/trope square 'marriage'
MASTER POST
1.
The scents of cherry blossom, maple and bamboo trees mixed with Kyoto's cool spring breeze brush against his nose the moment he steps out of the taxi. Nostalgia slaps him like a bitch. This place evokes memories of his wedding about two decades ago. The mere thought that this will soon serve as a setting for new sets of memories – this time of his daughter's wedding – sparks up something inside him he can't identify at the moment.
This place… so much has changed over the years.
Pristine landscape that amasses beds of green, yellow and pink and earthy colors stretches out around the eloquent structure of white, dark brown and brick red sitting atop of the hill. An assortment of azaleas and poppy standing behind well-trimmed and sculpted dome-shaped shrubs are lined on both sides of the pathway leading up to the main house of the villa.
A group of three is standing at the engawa, all eyes on him. Though he’s expected to arrive, he hasn’t really told anyone exactly when he's flying in from Italy so the look of surprise that blooms on his daughter's face just before she breaks into a run is priceless.
"Papa!" Mariko throws herself at him, barely giving him time to drop his bags and catch her that he almost loses his balance. "Why didn't you call me? I would have picked you up or would've sent someone to pick you up."
Once he feels her hold loosens a bit, he eases her down then flips her long orange blonde tresses over her shoulder with his hand in a playful gesture. "I don't mind taking the bullet train and taxi once in a while. Besides, I wanted to surprise you." The truth is he just didn't want to bother anyone. He assumes his family is still disappointed with how he has failed to be home last Christmas and New Year, despite giving them his word that he would be. And that wasn't the only time he has broken a promise. "Is your mother back from Fukuoka?"
Ren picks up his traveling bag while Mariko grabs the handle of his wheeled luggage then she clings to his arm while they stroll along the paved path, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. "Yes, arrived the other day and can't wait to see you," she says, fluttering her eyelashes.
"More like, can't wait to smack me or land a punch on my face, you mean." Ren forces a smile on his lips before planting a kiss on Mariko's temple.
Mariko tugs sharply on the sleeve of his jacket, says, "Please, Papa. Promise me you won't taunt Mama or do anything to cause a scene," with a warning glare.
"I'll be on my best behavior," Ren says, drawing a cross over his heart with his finger though deep inside, he fears it's another promise that he probably won't be able to keep.
Mariko's fiancé, Yusuke, steps down from the engawa to greet him with a polite bow, saying, "Jinguuji-san. It's good to see you again." He offers to take Ren's bag but Ren makes up a silly excuse that it's not that heavy (even though it is) and that he's fine carrying it, so Yusuke takes the wheeled luggage from Mariko instead.
It's been nearly five years since Mariko and Yusuke started dating so the boy is practically part of the family. But the thought that he will soon be giving his daughter away to this young man – officially, legally and in all aspects – Ren can't help but feel a bit uneasy around him so he starts with a casual, "Hey, I heard you won the overall category for violin at the latest Osaka International. Congratulations, Yusuke," in a vain attempt to break the ice.
The awkwardness becomes evidently mutual if the way Yusuke responds with a timid, "Thank you, sir," is anything to go by.
Thankfully, the unsettling weight that's starting to build up is quickly dispelled when Mariko hops up to the engawa to join the woman (who looks to be in her early thirties) standing there and says. "You remember Ueda Yumiko-san, Papa? She's the one Yusuke's grandmothers hired to help with the wedding preparations."
Ren recalls seeing her at their house once last fall, when he was in a hurry to leave for one of his impromptu business trips. "Yeah, I think," he tells Mariko then to Yumiko, he enounces, "I trust my daughter and future son-in-law are in good hands?" in an elucidatory way.
"Of course, Jinguuji-san," Yumiko says, offering a perfunctory bow before turning to Mariko to whom she spouts out a few reminders that sound gibberish and foreign to Ren's ears. Then she takes her leave and promises to be back in two days.
Mariko wraps both arms around Ren's the moment they walk past the genkan, saying, "We'll show you to your room so you can get settled first," so Ren allows her to lead him towards the back then out of the main house, through the middle garden and up a few steps leading to the residential wing with Yusuke following close behind.
*
*
It's the discernible svelte footfalls and the whiff of familiar cologne that alerts him of the presence approaching, but Masato doesn't turn around nor glance behind him, just keeps his eyes on the stew he's stirring. Warm hands curl around his arms and chapped lips are pressed against the side of his head.
Something unfurls in his chest when he hears Ren's dulcet voice. "Need help?"
"I'm fine. It's almost done anyway," he says as impassively as he can. He's supposed to be nursing a grudge against his husband so he curses the slight elation swirling in his gut for having Ren right here beside him after months of being apart.
Masato moves to get Ren's hands off him then sets the ladle on the plate sitting on the kitchen counter. Braving to meet his husband's gaze, he whirls around and says, "I wasn't expecting that you'd make it but it's a good thing you found time to be here for our daughter's wedding," all in one breath, afraid that he might stammer if he pauses for even a heartbeat.
A shadow of guilt flickers on the surface of Ren's eyes and his face falls, reflecting genuine remorse. "I promised I would, didn't I?"
His husband's words push the wrong button though, enough to make Masato's reserved forbearance crack. "That's just it. You promised. And when was the last time you were able to keep your promise?"
Ren's jaw visibly sets with an ireful edge as if he is about to throw back some acerbic words in his defense and holds that expression for about a minute before he releases what seems like a discomfited breath. "Look, Masayan, I know you're upset with me and I don't blame you. But please. Let's not fight."
Since Ren hasn't said the magic word, hasn't apologized for all those promises he had broken (not that it will do any good to pacify his anger but), Masato can't keep the sarcasm in his tone when he utters, "What then? Are we going to act like the perfect couple we're not?"
Masato can see Ren's hands balling into fists at his sides and he belatedly regrets his caustic remark then thinks that maybe… maybe Ren's right, they shouldn't fight. After all, this week is supposed to be about their daughter. Whatever problems they have should be dealt with in another time and another place. He sucks in a breath, counts slowly from one to five in his head, and then exhales through his nose hoping this can help purge the negative emotions roiling inside him.
"Look," he says, raising his hand with his palm facing Ren, "saying I'm upset would be an understatement but you're right, we shouldn't fight. Trust me, Ren, all I want to do is hit you square in the face right now but for Mariko's sake, for our children, I will be civil around you, but don't act like everything is fine and dandy between us. So I'll appreciate it if you keep your distance and don't you dare touch me." He slaps Ren's hand away when Ren tries to grab his wrist.
"What? Don't I get a welcome home hug and kiss?" Ren sticks his lower lip out in a child-like pout that looks hardly cute at his age. He reaches out in a vain attempt to grab hold of him but Masato just smacks his arm away again.
"Don't push your luck, Ren. And I mean it, no touching." Physical contact is the one thing he knows he should avoid because the slightest touch from his husband could break his steel resolve and Masato has to be firm about this. Ren should realize the gravity of his shortcomings and that Masato will not be as lenient and forgiving as he has been in the past. Masato walks past his husband to collect some plates from the cabinet. He can ask the villa maids to set the table but he needs to keep himself preoccupied just so he has a perfect excuse to avoid Ren.
*
*
Mariko retracts her head from the edge of the wall to avoid colliding with her younger brother who's been crouched under her and is now straightening up. She feels the twinge of guilt for eavesdropping on their parents' conversation but it's not like she and Ryusei did it on purpose. They came to check if lunch is ready only to hear their parents arguing.
"That's it then. I think they're getting a divorce," Ryusei says in a low voice but not something that will pass as a whisper.
She presses her index finger against her lips to shush him then drags him far enough so their parents won't hear them. Hopefully. "Can't you keep your voice down? Walls here are paper thin. And Mama and Papa are so not getting a divorce. You should have faith in them. I'm sure they'll work out whatever issues they have."
Ryusei sniggers and shakes his head, dark blue fringes falling over his left eye. "You're too optimistic, Neechan. Haven't you considered that they might end up like Yusuke-nii's parents? Maybe Mama and Papa will be influenced by them."
"Or maybe it will be the other way around." At least, that's what Mariko hopes will happen. She believes in her parents, knows that her (technically) 'mother' and father love each other so much that they'll be able to get past any trials they face in their marriage.
Yusuke suddenly breezes in, says, "I'm gonna go pick up my mother at the train station," then his eyes skip from Mariko to Ryusei. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Oh no, no. We were just talking about Mama and Papa," Mariko flips her hand in a waving gesture to indicate that Yusuke can leave. "You go on ahead." Then as a polite afterthought, she adds, "Do you want me to go with you?"
"Nah, it's okay. I know you have your hands full with your own parents." Yusuke presses a kiss on her cheek, says, "I'll see you later," and then pats Ryusei on the shoulder as if silently wishing him luck or something before heading out.
* * * * *
2.
Soft yellow rays from the ceiling lamps pour on Yusuke's head, creating an illusion that his olive green hair is lighter in shade than it is in reality. His hazel eyes sparkle while he gives Len an account of what he's been doing for the past two years.
Two years.
To Len, it doesn't really seem like a long time, not when he's been really busy. Time just flies by without him noticing. But looking at his son, it seems two years has done a lot to make Yusuke look different from the son he's left with his hus—um…ex-husband.
One thing that hasn't changed though, and Len blurts out, "You look so much like your father," on impulse.
It's the one truth he can't deny. Even though Yusuke's skin is as pale as his, he has inherited most of his father's features. From the color of the hair down to his built, he is undeniably so much more like Ryoutarou. If Len hasn't been the one to have actually given birth to him, people would've doubted Yusuke is his son.
Yusuke regards him with pursed lips and furrowed brows. He shifts on the edge of the bed to face Len, bringing one leg up on the mattress. "I hope that doesn't mean you hate me as much as you hate Oyaji."
Though uttered with a teasing lilt, those words feel like a punch in the gut somehow. Len swallows a lungful of air, feeling uneasy with the way his son seems to be scrutinizing him. "I don't hate your father, Yusuke. It's just… It's complicated."
The corners of Yusuke's mouth twitch, his eyes lighting up with a roguish glint. "So are you saying you still love him?"
Len hates the way his heart slams against his ribcage as a consequence to his son's extemporary allegation. To make it worse, the heat gathering on his cheeks is pretty much an indication that he is most likely blushing. Suddenly flooded with emotions he can't fathom, his intuitive reaction is to put up his defenses so he says, "Stop putting words in my mouth," as firm as he can manage.
Yusuke seems to see through him though. His lips curve up as if he's just discovered Len's secret before he huffs out a laugh and says, "Gheez, Tochan, it was a joike!" Then, almost in an instant, the gaiety that frames his visage morphs into a serious expression as he adds, "You do know Oyaji has brought his girlfriend along with him, right?"
This time, Len feels a sharp pang in his heart, like someone has hammered a nail right through the center. "I don't care." He averts his eyes and focuses on the pile of shirts he's fishing out from his traveling bag.
A lull of silence lingers in the room for a while, giving Len a chance to finish unpacking without getting distracted with conversations he'd rather avoid at the moment. It's comforting in a way, with his son helping him, both of them indulged in quiet exchanges as if the two years of separation hasn't created a gap as wide as the entire Hokkaido region.
Yusuke is the first to break the quietude, says, "I missed you, Tochan, a lot," in a voice so soft and gentle, like he's afraid to put a crack on the fragile glass they seem to be encased in.
Seeing the desolation reflected in Yusuke's hazel orbs causes a weight of guilt to settle in Len's heart. He hates the thought that he's the one who has brought that sadness in his son's eyes. He reaches out and cups Yusuke's cheek. "I missed you, too." You and your father, is what he chooses not to say out loud, but he thinks – he believes – that Yusuke pretty much knows what's going through his mind.
*
*
Ryoutarou startles at the sound of the door opening and he pushes himself off the wall the moment he sees his son stepping out of Len's room.
Yusuke probably senses his eagerness if the smile sliding on his lips when their eyes meet is any indication. He slides his hands in his pant pockets, says, "Oyaji? How long have you been waiting there?" while he struts down the rouka.
"I wasn't waiting," is Ryoutarou's protest but then he realizes that the denial is nothing short of ineffectual because his son's eyebrow arches up as though he's saying Really now? "Okay, fine, maybe I am. So…" Ryoutarou reins in what self control he can so he won't start rambling. "How's your mother? Did he ask about me? Say anything about me? Is he mad at me or something? Is he seeing anyone right now?" Well, he did try.
The rumbling manifestation of amusement flutters out of Yusuke's mouth in a peal of laughter. He clasps Ryoutarou's shoulder and says, "Breath, Oyaji. Tochan's fine. I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. He did say he's been really busy with his job at that school in America. And…." Yusuke watches him, eyes slanted while keeping his face forward as he continues his trek through the narrow hallway. "He misses you."
Ryoutarou almost stumbles on his own feet. "He does? He told you that?"
The neutral countenance that Yusuke's wearing makes it hard to determine whether he's being honest or if he's merely testing Ryoutarou, perhaps to see how he'll react. "Not in those exact words but you know how well I can read him. I can tell he really does."
Though the concept of Len feeling anything for him that's a complete opposite of resentment is something he yearns, Ryoutarou can't help but think how farfetched it seems. Still, he basks in that fantasy wherein Len doesn't really bear a deep-seated grudge against him.
Once they reach the end of the rouka, they saunter through the garden that connects the residential wing to the main house and they have just gone past the koi pond when they run into Mariko. She is wearing a blue flower-printed yukata, a perfect match to her pair of blue eyes. Her orange blonde hair is gathered up in a bun, made even prettier with a tama kanzashi – a silver stick with a large pearl ornament at one end.
She flashes them a heartwarming smile. "Tsuchiura-san. Yusuke. I was just about to go get you. Dinner is almost ready." She peers past their shoulders then asks, "Where's Tsukimori-san?"
"He says he'll just take a quick shower then he'll join us once he's done," Yusuke explains then brandishes his hand over Mariko's outfit. "Are we supposed to be in formal wear or something?"
Mariko gazes down at her clothes then her eyes spring back up to them. "Oh no, I just had tea ceremony with Mai-onesan and my brothers. I'm actually on my way back to my room to change. If you'll excuse me." She bends forward in a courteous bow before marching past them, her geta clattering against the stone steps.
The dining room is occupied only by a couple of helpers who are placing bowls of dishes on the table. "I believe it's Hijirikawa-san who prepared dinner for tonight," Yusuke says, taking a seat near the end.
Since Ryoutarou arrived at the villa two days ago, he and Masato and the villa chef have been taking turns preparing meals and he's supposed to be in charge of tonight's dinner but Masato defiantly insists that he should take over and seeing Jinguuji Ren at the dining hall now gives Ryoutarou a pretty good idea why.
The dinner table is soon filled and divided into several topics of conversation. Ryoutarou, Yusuke and Ren talk mostly about sports, though Ryoutarou isn't completely focused on their casual chatter. He keeps stealing glances at Len, thinking that the past two years have been kind to him at least. Len looks as beautiful as ever – cyan hair looking soft as silk, skin flawless like porcelain with absolutely no sign of aging. Ryoutarou deduces being stoic probably has its advantages.
A sharp jab against his ribcage disrupts his thought process and he nearly shrinks in his seat when he meets Asumi's pointed glare. Damn it! Len still proves to be quite a distraction that Ryoutarou momentarily forgets his girlfriend is sitting right beside him.
chapters 3 & 4
Uta no Prince-sama x La Corda d' Oro crossover
Jinguji Ren/Hijirikawa Masato, Tsuchiura Ryoutarou/Tsukimori Len
written for Small Fandoms Bang 2016 - round 5
written for Trope Bingo round 6, for the prompt/trope square 'marriage'
MASTER POST
1.
The scents of cherry blossom, maple and bamboo trees mixed with Kyoto's cool spring breeze brush against his nose the moment he steps out of the taxi. Nostalgia slaps him like a bitch. This place evokes memories of his wedding about two decades ago. The mere thought that this will soon serve as a setting for new sets of memories – this time of his daughter's wedding – sparks up something inside him he can't identify at the moment.
This place… so much has changed over the years.
Pristine landscape that amasses beds of green, yellow and pink and earthy colors stretches out around the eloquent structure of white, dark brown and brick red sitting atop of the hill. An assortment of azaleas and poppy standing behind well-trimmed and sculpted dome-shaped shrubs are lined on both sides of the pathway leading up to the main house of the villa.
A group of three is standing at the engawa, all eyes on him. Though he’s expected to arrive, he hasn’t really told anyone exactly when he's flying in from Italy so the look of surprise that blooms on his daughter's face just before she breaks into a run is priceless.
"Papa!" Mariko throws herself at him, barely giving him time to drop his bags and catch her that he almost loses his balance. "Why didn't you call me? I would have picked you up or would've sent someone to pick you up."
Once he feels her hold loosens a bit, he eases her down then flips her long orange blonde tresses over her shoulder with his hand in a playful gesture. "I don't mind taking the bullet train and taxi once in a while. Besides, I wanted to surprise you." The truth is he just didn't want to bother anyone. He assumes his family is still disappointed with how he has failed to be home last Christmas and New Year, despite giving them his word that he would be. And that wasn't the only time he has broken a promise. "Is your mother back from Fukuoka?"
Ren picks up his traveling bag while Mariko grabs the handle of his wheeled luggage then she clings to his arm while they stroll along the paved path, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. "Yes, arrived the other day and can't wait to see you," she says, fluttering her eyelashes.
"More like, can't wait to smack me or land a punch on my face, you mean." Ren forces a smile on his lips before planting a kiss on Mariko's temple.
Mariko tugs sharply on the sleeve of his jacket, says, "Please, Papa. Promise me you won't taunt Mama or do anything to cause a scene," with a warning glare.
"I'll be on my best behavior," Ren says, drawing a cross over his heart with his finger though deep inside, he fears it's another promise that he probably won't be able to keep.
Mariko's fiancé, Yusuke, steps down from the engawa to greet him with a polite bow, saying, "Jinguuji-san. It's good to see you again." He offers to take Ren's bag but Ren makes up a silly excuse that it's not that heavy (even though it is) and that he's fine carrying it, so Yusuke takes the wheeled luggage from Mariko instead.
It's been nearly five years since Mariko and Yusuke started dating so the boy is practically part of the family. But the thought that he will soon be giving his daughter away to this young man – officially, legally and in all aspects – Ren can't help but feel a bit uneasy around him so he starts with a casual, "Hey, I heard you won the overall category for violin at the latest Osaka International. Congratulations, Yusuke," in a vain attempt to break the ice.
The awkwardness becomes evidently mutual if the way Yusuke responds with a timid, "Thank you, sir," is anything to go by.
Thankfully, the unsettling weight that's starting to build up is quickly dispelled when Mariko hops up to the engawa to join the woman (who looks to be in her early thirties) standing there and says. "You remember Ueda Yumiko-san, Papa? She's the one Yusuke's grandmothers hired to help with the wedding preparations."
Ren recalls seeing her at their house once last fall, when he was in a hurry to leave for one of his impromptu business trips. "Yeah, I think," he tells Mariko then to Yumiko, he enounces, "I trust my daughter and future son-in-law are in good hands?" in an elucidatory way.
"Of course, Jinguuji-san," Yumiko says, offering a perfunctory bow before turning to Mariko to whom she spouts out a few reminders that sound gibberish and foreign to Ren's ears. Then she takes her leave and promises to be back in two days.
Mariko wraps both arms around Ren's the moment they walk past the genkan, saying, "We'll show you to your room so you can get settled first," so Ren allows her to lead him towards the back then out of the main house, through the middle garden and up a few steps leading to the residential wing with Yusuke following close behind.
*
It's the discernible svelte footfalls and the whiff of familiar cologne that alerts him of the presence approaching, but Masato doesn't turn around nor glance behind him, just keeps his eyes on the stew he's stirring. Warm hands curl around his arms and chapped lips are pressed against the side of his head.
Something unfurls in his chest when he hears Ren's dulcet voice. "Need help?"
"I'm fine. It's almost done anyway," he says as impassively as he can. He's supposed to be nursing a grudge against his husband so he curses the slight elation swirling in his gut for having Ren right here beside him after months of being apart.
Masato moves to get Ren's hands off him then sets the ladle on the plate sitting on the kitchen counter. Braving to meet his husband's gaze, he whirls around and says, "I wasn't expecting that you'd make it but it's a good thing you found time to be here for our daughter's wedding," all in one breath, afraid that he might stammer if he pauses for even a heartbeat.
A shadow of guilt flickers on the surface of Ren's eyes and his face falls, reflecting genuine remorse. "I promised I would, didn't I?"
His husband's words push the wrong button though, enough to make Masato's reserved forbearance crack. "That's just it. You promised. And when was the last time you were able to keep your promise?"
Ren's jaw visibly sets with an ireful edge as if he is about to throw back some acerbic words in his defense and holds that expression for about a minute before he releases what seems like a discomfited breath. "Look, Masayan, I know you're upset with me and I don't blame you. But please. Let's not fight."
Since Ren hasn't said the magic word, hasn't apologized for all those promises he had broken (not that it will do any good to pacify his anger but), Masato can't keep the sarcasm in his tone when he utters, "What then? Are we going to act like the perfect couple we're not?"
Masato can see Ren's hands balling into fists at his sides and he belatedly regrets his caustic remark then thinks that maybe… maybe Ren's right, they shouldn't fight. After all, this week is supposed to be about their daughter. Whatever problems they have should be dealt with in another time and another place. He sucks in a breath, counts slowly from one to five in his head, and then exhales through his nose hoping this can help purge the negative emotions roiling inside him.
"Look," he says, raising his hand with his palm facing Ren, "saying I'm upset would be an understatement but you're right, we shouldn't fight. Trust me, Ren, all I want to do is hit you square in the face right now but for Mariko's sake, for our children, I will be civil around you, but don't act like everything is fine and dandy between us. So I'll appreciate it if you keep your distance and don't you dare touch me." He slaps Ren's hand away when Ren tries to grab his wrist.
"What? Don't I get a welcome home hug and kiss?" Ren sticks his lower lip out in a child-like pout that looks hardly cute at his age. He reaches out in a vain attempt to grab hold of him but Masato just smacks his arm away again.
"Don't push your luck, Ren. And I mean it, no touching." Physical contact is the one thing he knows he should avoid because the slightest touch from his husband could break his steel resolve and Masato has to be firm about this. Ren should realize the gravity of his shortcomings and that Masato will not be as lenient and forgiving as he has been in the past. Masato walks past his husband to collect some plates from the cabinet. He can ask the villa maids to set the table but he needs to keep himself preoccupied just so he has a perfect excuse to avoid Ren.
*
Mariko retracts her head from the edge of the wall to avoid colliding with her younger brother who's been crouched under her and is now straightening up. She feels the twinge of guilt for eavesdropping on their parents' conversation but it's not like she and Ryusei did it on purpose. They came to check if lunch is ready only to hear their parents arguing.
"That's it then. I think they're getting a divorce," Ryusei says in a low voice but not something that will pass as a whisper.
She presses her index finger against her lips to shush him then drags him far enough so their parents won't hear them. Hopefully. "Can't you keep your voice down? Walls here are paper thin. And Mama and Papa are so not getting a divorce. You should have faith in them. I'm sure they'll work out whatever issues they have."
Ryusei sniggers and shakes his head, dark blue fringes falling over his left eye. "You're too optimistic, Neechan. Haven't you considered that they might end up like Yusuke-nii's parents? Maybe Mama and Papa will be influenced by them."
"Or maybe it will be the other way around." At least, that's what Mariko hopes will happen. She believes in her parents, knows that her (technically) 'mother' and father love each other so much that they'll be able to get past any trials they face in their marriage.
Yusuke suddenly breezes in, says, "I'm gonna go pick up my mother at the train station," then his eyes skip from Mariko to Ryusei. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Oh no, no. We were just talking about Mama and Papa," Mariko flips her hand in a waving gesture to indicate that Yusuke can leave. "You go on ahead." Then as a polite afterthought, she adds, "Do you want me to go with you?"
"Nah, it's okay. I know you have your hands full with your own parents." Yusuke presses a kiss on her cheek, says, "I'll see you later," and then pats Ryusei on the shoulder as if silently wishing him luck or something before heading out.
2.
Soft yellow rays from the ceiling lamps pour on Yusuke's head, creating an illusion that his olive green hair is lighter in shade than it is in reality. His hazel eyes sparkle while he gives Len an account of what he's been doing for the past two years.
Two years.
To Len, it doesn't really seem like a long time, not when he's been really busy. Time just flies by without him noticing. But looking at his son, it seems two years has done a lot to make Yusuke look different from the son he's left with his hus—um…ex-husband.
One thing that hasn't changed though, and Len blurts out, "You look so much like your father," on impulse.
It's the one truth he can't deny. Even though Yusuke's skin is as pale as his, he has inherited most of his father's features. From the color of the hair down to his built, he is undeniably so much more like Ryoutarou. If Len hasn't been the one to have actually given birth to him, people would've doubted Yusuke is his son.
Yusuke regards him with pursed lips and furrowed brows. He shifts on the edge of the bed to face Len, bringing one leg up on the mattress. "I hope that doesn't mean you hate me as much as you hate Oyaji."
Though uttered with a teasing lilt, those words feel like a punch in the gut somehow. Len swallows a lungful of air, feeling uneasy with the way his son seems to be scrutinizing him. "I don't hate your father, Yusuke. It's just… It's complicated."
The corners of Yusuke's mouth twitch, his eyes lighting up with a roguish glint. "So are you saying you still love him?"
Len hates the way his heart slams against his ribcage as a consequence to his son's extemporary allegation. To make it worse, the heat gathering on his cheeks is pretty much an indication that he is most likely blushing. Suddenly flooded with emotions he can't fathom, his intuitive reaction is to put up his defenses so he says, "Stop putting words in my mouth," as firm as he can manage.
Yusuke seems to see through him though. His lips curve up as if he's just discovered Len's secret before he huffs out a laugh and says, "Gheez, Tochan, it was a joike!" Then, almost in an instant, the gaiety that frames his visage morphs into a serious expression as he adds, "You do know Oyaji has brought his girlfriend along with him, right?"
This time, Len feels a sharp pang in his heart, like someone has hammered a nail right through the center. "I don't care." He averts his eyes and focuses on the pile of shirts he's fishing out from his traveling bag.
A lull of silence lingers in the room for a while, giving Len a chance to finish unpacking without getting distracted with conversations he'd rather avoid at the moment. It's comforting in a way, with his son helping him, both of them indulged in quiet exchanges as if the two years of separation hasn't created a gap as wide as the entire Hokkaido region.
Yusuke is the first to break the quietude, says, "I missed you, Tochan, a lot," in a voice so soft and gentle, like he's afraid to put a crack on the fragile glass they seem to be encased in.
Seeing the desolation reflected in Yusuke's hazel orbs causes a weight of guilt to settle in Len's heart. He hates the thought that he's the one who has brought that sadness in his son's eyes. He reaches out and cups Yusuke's cheek. "I missed you, too." You and your father, is what he chooses not to say out loud, but he thinks – he believes – that Yusuke pretty much knows what's going through his mind.
*
Ryoutarou startles at the sound of the door opening and he pushes himself off the wall the moment he sees his son stepping out of Len's room.
Yusuke probably senses his eagerness if the smile sliding on his lips when their eyes meet is any indication. He slides his hands in his pant pockets, says, "Oyaji? How long have you been waiting there?" while he struts down the rouka.
"I wasn't waiting," is Ryoutarou's protest but then he realizes that the denial is nothing short of ineffectual because his son's eyebrow arches up as though he's saying Really now? "Okay, fine, maybe I am. So…" Ryoutarou reins in what self control he can so he won't start rambling. "How's your mother? Did he ask about me? Say anything about me? Is he mad at me or something? Is he seeing anyone right now?" Well, he did try.
The rumbling manifestation of amusement flutters out of Yusuke's mouth in a peal of laughter. He clasps Ryoutarou's shoulder and says, "Breath, Oyaji. Tochan's fine. I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. He did say he's been really busy with his job at that school in America. And…." Yusuke watches him, eyes slanted while keeping his face forward as he continues his trek through the narrow hallway. "He misses you."
Ryoutarou almost stumbles on his own feet. "He does? He told you that?"
The neutral countenance that Yusuke's wearing makes it hard to determine whether he's being honest or if he's merely testing Ryoutarou, perhaps to see how he'll react. "Not in those exact words but you know how well I can read him. I can tell he really does."
Though the concept of Len feeling anything for him that's a complete opposite of resentment is something he yearns, Ryoutarou can't help but think how farfetched it seems. Still, he basks in that fantasy wherein Len doesn't really bear a deep-seated grudge against him.
Once they reach the end of the rouka, they saunter through the garden that connects the residential wing to the main house and they have just gone past the koi pond when they run into Mariko. She is wearing a blue flower-printed yukata, a perfect match to her pair of blue eyes. Her orange blonde hair is gathered up in a bun, made even prettier with a tama kanzashi – a silver stick with a large pearl ornament at one end.
She flashes them a heartwarming smile. "Tsuchiura-san. Yusuke. I was just about to go get you. Dinner is almost ready." She peers past their shoulders then asks, "Where's Tsukimori-san?"
"He says he'll just take a quick shower then he'll join us once he's done," Yusuke explains then brandishes his hand over Mariko's outfit. "Are we supposed to be in formal wear or something?"
Mariko gazes down at her clothes then her eyes spring back up to them. "Oh no, I just had tea ceremony with Mai-onesan and my brothers. I'm actually on my way back to my room to change. If you'll excuse me." She bends forward in a courteous bow before marching past them, her geta clattering against the stone steps.
The dining room is occupied only by a couple of helpers who are placing bowls of dishes on the table. "I believe it's Hijirikawa-san who prepared dinner for tonight," Yusuke says, taking a seat near the end.
Since Ryoutarou arrived at the villa two days ago, he and Masato and the villa chef have been taking turns preparing meals and he's supposed to be in charge of tonight's dinner but Masato defiantly insists that he should take over and seeing Jinguuji Ren at the dining hall now gives Ryoutarou a pretty good idea why.
The dinner table is soon filled and divided into several topics of conversation. Ryoutarou, Yusuke and Ren talk mostly about sports, though Ryoutarou isn't completely focused on their casual chatter. He keeps stealing glances at Len, thinking that the past two years have been kind to him at least. Len looks as beautiful as ever – cyan hair looking soft as silk, skin flawless like porcelain with absolutely no sign of aging. Ryoutarou deduces being stoic probably has its advantages.
A sharp jab against his ribcage disrupts his thought process and he nearly shrinks in his seat when he meets Asumi's pointed glare. Damn it! Len still proves to be quite a distraction that Ryoutarou momentarily forgets his girlfriend is sitting right beside him.
chapters 3 & 4