Part 3.1: February 26
February 26
Staring out the window on the plane, he does his best to put as much distance as he can between him and the woman sharing the row. Earphones are in but nothing plays. The flight attendants are ignored as they pass out food and drink. He doesn’t want to be bothered by strangers.
He’s not proud of his decision. But it’s also not stopping him from following through with it. Eleven pm on the 25th he made arrangements with Murasawa for a job in South America. He left the next morning before Senri was awake, only stopping at his own home to pack a small travel bag.
After Senri’s reaming he locked himself in the washroom. There was a bit of a commotion when Senri realized he didn’t retrieve the phone and book… But it didn’t last long. The designer was in the middle of preparing for his March show and didn’t have the energy or time to spare over this. It was nice just to sit in the same general area -not talking, touching, or even within sight- but still together. It was a comfort to not be alone.
It wasn’t until he was sitting under the shower that Senri’s words fully sank in. He was responsible for all of this. Every time Shuichi danced around the subject Taiki had let it pass. He never spoke up, never told Shuichi how much it bothered him. But as Senri put it: it was one thing to be discrete, it was another to be a liar.
He didn’t want to be some dirty little secret -fuel for the media fire. For twenty-five years he expended a large amount of energy trying to stay out of public notice. He didn’t want them to go out every night, drinking, dancing, and hanging all over each other… He just didn’t want to be someone’s disgrace. It didn’t feel good to have the person he loved most lie about being involved with him; he wasn’t good enough to be associated with, apparently.
It was when the shower ran cold that he finally pulled himself together. Self-pity was an ugly color. He was quick to dress and even faster to bed. If Senri was annoyed at his behavior he did a good job of hiding it; though upon reflection Taiki decided that it was entirely possible that he’d been too wrapped up in his own problems to notice. He would apologize to Senri later for being so self-absorbed -using all the expensive hot water and claiming the bed as his own, all without permission.
It was late before he finally drifted off. The sound of the quiet, frustrated words as Senri worked was comforting in its normalcy. He had no idea what time it had been when the designer finally came to bed -undoubtedly late. There was a small fuss about how much room Taiki was taking up but Senri eventually settled in. Taiki stared out, across the dark bedroom until he felt the other man flop over. An arm found its way over the blanket and around his middle. Senri wiggled a little until they fit together and then kissed Taiki’s shoulder blade.
“I’m sorry you’re in love with a douche bag.”
Taiki couldn’t help it: his lips crooked into an odd smile and he wiped his cheek, his back still to Senri.
The plane lands in La Paz, Bolivia at 3:00pm local time. Isandro, a man he’s had the pleasure of working with many times before, greets him at baggage claim with a thick manila folder. Taiki smiles politely, bowing and taking the report. He’s never been happier to have his job.
Staring out the window on the plane, he does his best to put as much distance as he can between him and the woman sharing the row. Earphones are in but nothing plays. The flight attendants are ignored as they pass out food and drink. He doesn’t want to be bothered by strangers.
He’s not proud of his decision. But it’s also not stopping him from following through with it. Eleven pm on the 25th he made arrangements with Murasawa for a job in South America. He left the next morning before Senri was awake, only stopping at his own home to pack a small travel bag.
After Senri’s reaming he locked himself in the washroom. There was a bit of a commotion when Senri realized he didn’t retrieve the phone and book… But it didn’t last long. The designer was in the middle of preparing for his March show and didn’t have the energy or time to spare over this. It was nice just to sit in the same general area -not talking, touching, or even within sight- but still together. It was a comfort to not be alone.
It wasn’t until he was sitting under the shower that Senri’s words fully sank in. He was responsible for all of this. Every time Shuichi danced around the subject Taiki had let it pass. He never spoke up, never told Shuichi how much it bothered him. But as Senri put it: it was one thing to be discrete, it was another to be a liar.
He didn’t want to be some dirty little secret -fuel for the media fire. For twenty-five years he expended a large amount of energy trying to stay out of public notice. He didn’t want them to go out every night, drinking, dancing, and hanging all over each other… He just didn’t want to be someone’s disgrace. It didn’t feel good to have the person he loved most lie about being involved with him; he wasn’t good enough to be associated with, apparently.
It was when the shower ran cold that he finally pulled himself together. Self-pity was an ugly color. He was quick to dress and even faster to bed. If Senri was annoyed at his behavior he did a good job of hiding it; though upon reflection Taiki decided that it was entirely possible that he’d been too wrapped up in his own problems to notice. He would apologize to Senri later for being so self-absorbed -using all the expensive hot water and claiming the bed as his own, all without permission.
It was late before he finally drifted off. The sound of the quiet, frustrated words as Senri worked was comforting in its normalcy. He had no idea what time it had been when the designer finally came to bed -undoubtedly late. There was a small fuss about how much room Taiki was taking up but Senri eventually settled in. Taiki stared out, across the dark bedroom until he felt the other man flop over. An arm found its way over the blanket and around his middle. Senri wiggled a little until they fit together and then kissed Taiki’s shoulder blade.
“I’m sorry you’re in love with a douche bag.”
Taiki couldn’t help it: his lips crooked into an odd smile and he wiped his cheek, his back still to Senri.
The plane lands in La Paz, Bolivia at 3:00pm local time. Isandro, a man he’s had the pleasure of working with many times before, greets him at baggage claim with a thick manila folder. Taiki smiles politely, bowing and taking the report. He’s never been happier to have his job.