a world of (im)perfect loves

[trivialaffair]

Title: a world of (im)perfect loves
Pairings: Ryo x Shige; Shige x Koyama
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 10600+
Note: For cloudy_monday, who asked for Ryo x Shige ages ago for the help_haiti fundraiser.
Summary: Semi sci-fi AU. Shige spends the holiday in Osaka. It is there he meets his heartmate.

a world of (im)perfect loves

It's beautiful the day Koyama kisses Shige. Clouds are streaked with color and sunlight splashes the skyline. The Tokyo sunset unfolds before the pair in all its brilliance and the two of them pay no attention to it, none at all as they kiss on the school rooftop days before their high school graduation.

It's also beautiful the way Koyama kisses Shige. Hesitant and slow, a hundred times unsure. His lips are soft and his breath hitches so shyly. Shige tastes cherry chapstick on Koyama's lips and smells faint cigarette smoke as he breathes Koyama in. Koyama's fingers thread through Shige's hair and Shige's fingers dance on the hem of Koyama's shirt. It's almost perfect.

Almost, because Shige knows it's the years and years of indoctrination, of knowing that there is something better for him, that Koyama isn't quite it and never will be. Since the day they met and Koyama'd tackled him into the sand, Shige has known that Koyama would never fill the gap that heartmates are supposed to - he'll never be enough. Still, Shige pretends that it doesn't matter, he tries, and he kisses Koyama again and again.

It takes a while for Koyama to pull back shakily, cheeks flushed and lips bright red, moist. Shige half wants to pull him in again but Koyama's hands encircle Shige's wrists to stop him. His eyes are downcast, and he mumbles into the space between them:

"Will you settle for me?"

They're outside Shige's apartment building when he gathers the courage to ask, "Are you sure you want to settle so soon?" With me? is the unspoken addition, but he's sure Koyama hears it anyway. He always could read Shige, sometimes better than Shige could read himself.

"I'm not sure at all," Koyama says honestly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "But aren't we going to settle eventually anyway?"

Shige's eyes widen, mouth falling open. That didn't sound like the optimistic Koyama he's so used to. He wonders what has changed. "But you always had so much hope that you'd find your heartmate."

Koyama shrugs. "Massu and Tegoshi think I should wait a bit, but I've been thinking. You're going to Aoyama University, and I'll be at Meiji. This vacation is my last chance, because you're my best friend, and..." he pauses hesitantly, glancing downward. "And you're probably right. Only the lucky few ever find their heartmates, and I'm pretty sure I'm not one of them. I should stop deluding myself now."

"So you think I'd be the perfect person to settle with, because I'm a cynical bastard?" Shige snorts.

Koyama rolls his eyes. "Shige, you wouldn't be the perfect person for anyone." He grins. "Besides, you can't tell me I'd be an awful person to settle with. I can make mean ramen, and I'm the only one who steeps your tea just right."

They laugh and Shige lets Koyama kiss him as they stand in front of his door.

Shige says yes.

When Shige tells his parents that he's decided to settle with Koyama, there are mixed emotions around the table. His father is tight-lipped, a stiff nod of his head the only indicator that he even heard Shige's announcement. His mother, on the other hand, looks crestfallen, aghast. Mostly, she looks disappointed.

"But you can't give up so soon," she says, and his father hushes her.

"You know I'm never going to find my heartmate," Shige says, exasperation heavy in his tone but he's also a little apologetic. This was all his mother had ever dreamed for him, and his mother hates that he's given up so quickly. "No one ever does," he reasons.

"You're still so young," she insists, food forgotten as she glances at her husband. "You haven't even gone through university yet," she tsks. "Why would you settle so soon?"

His father's lips purse even more and Shige knows the reason why.

They had never found their heartmates either.

Shige's only met one couple, an elderly man and woman who own the local grocery, who found each other, who are heartmates. They met after college, on summer holiday as they'd trekked through the Appalachian Mountains. He'd helped her up a step and they felt it, heavy and beautiful, and that was all it took for the connection.

They say they're happy to whoever listens, to the curious shop goers and neighbors. That the connection was everything the officials, experts, doctors claimed: it is beautiful, intense, that the shock that flashed through their veins - that continues to do so every time they touch - is worth it all. They look at each other with lovesick eyes, they touch each other constantly, and it's a relentless reminder to everyone around them that they do not have what these connected people do.

Shige hates going to that grocery store, but not for the same reasons as everyone else - the masochistic shoppers are jealous of the couple and despise their own disconnected relationships.

Rather, he hates the world he lives in, this world where so many wish for what they can't have, for a connection with someone that may never take place. A world where people love, or try to love, but only a few actually find who they think they are supposed to love. Love equals the bond, everyone knows this, because the moment two heartmates touch, their hearts change, connect. They are meant only for each other.

And it's this, this unrealistic connection, that everyone desires. They dream of it even after they settle; the relationships they have in the meantime are utterly meaningless in the vain hopes that they'll yet meet their heartmate. Shige's parents are no exception, and perhaps this is what he hates most of all. They had settled with each other soon after their college years, but they'd always hated that they had to give up what everyone knew to be the best: their heartmate. They had shaken hands - searching for connections, after all, is the only reason why handshakes were invented - with everyone they came across, people who were just as desperate as they were, and all for naught. Shige speculates that his parents, as miserable as they are, have probably even considered divorce, but he knows they never will. What's the point of divorcing someone if they aren't sure they are going to find their heartmate? It's something they'll never really get over.

But Shige knows that they aren't any different from anyone else. Everyone lives, searches, fails in the same way. They all become people who tried so hard to find connection, true love. They failed like most people; unlucky, jealous of those who succeeded, stumbling around for the rest of their lives with the ones they've settled with, their imperfect loves. The ones who do connect and find heartmates are the lucky ones, the ones put on pedestals, the anomalies. These are the ones who make the world dream when really, they have no real reason to.

Shige isn't going to be one of those people, lost and looking for something that can't be found. He refuses to be.

On days when he's less cynical, Shige wonders what meeting his heartmate would be like. Studies have shown that each reaction between heartmates is different but unmistakable. No one knows what exactly makes a heartmate; if the connection is something wired into them forever or if it's a spontaneous reaction from an initial touch. However, the result of the connection is unanimous: they are not simply bursts of passion or emotion or even sensory overload, but a continued process - the Connection.

Shige has read so many news articles and research papers about heartmates and the connection, especially in the past few years, half out of curiosity and half out of the desire to find proof against its existence. But he has yet to read anything negative about the connection. The connection is apparently fantastic and enviable, and settling should only occur after a thorough and hearty search - each report usually glosses over the fact that less than 1% of people in the world find their heartmates. And then the question must be asked: what is a heartmate, exactly? Scientists have likened it to the ancient concept of the soul mate, and that two people are destined for each other for life whether they connect or never meet. The most important difference, however, is that heartmates don't have a choice. Once heartmates meet, they are stuck with each other; the physical depression when they part is too much for humans to withstand. This is what Shige disagrees with. He hates that people want this, want so much for something that seems so painful and so utterly hopeless in the end.

He hates the idea of not having a choice.

Still, Shige can't help but wonder.

Will it feel like fire, will touching his heartmate make him burn? Or maybe it will electrocute, send dangerous shocks through his veins. Perhaps he'll cry, when he meets his heartmate. But that seems more like a Koyama-thing to do.

Koyama.

Koyama has always ached for a heartmate. They had grown up together, Shige and Koyama, and this is what Koyama had dreamed about ever since he was a little boy. On the playground swings they would sit, wobbling back and forth, attempting to gain momentum with their too-short legs. Shige would talk about ice cream and the latest edition of the encyclopedia; Koyama would talk about heartmates.

Even as a child, Shige couldn't stand it, but Koyama was his best friend so naturally he put up with it. Koyama would expound on his heartmate for hours, wondering what she would look like, if she ate carrots, if she were Japanese like him.

Mostly, he worried he wouldn't be the perfect heartmate back.

"That's stupid," Shige said whenever Koyama brought up his concerns. "You're heartmates because you're perfect for each other."

"Still," Koyama argued, eyes wide with fear, with his potential failure. "What if I'm not perfect enough?"

He remembers those conversations, and remembers his response each and every time. Back as friends, and now that they have settled with each other, he means every word, even if Koyama doesn't believe him. So sometimes, when Koyama's looking at him, kissing him, holding his hand, (he feels nothing electric, but maybe it's just because Shige has sweaty palms) he reminds Koyama of his answer.

"You're perfect enough," Shige says, believing the words and forcing truth into them. He does it because no one else will tell Koyama otherwise. Koyama always smiles then, eyes crinkling at the corners as he leans against Shige's shoulder without saying a word.

They remain like this: Shige who tries to get Koyama to see the world like he does, and Koyama who refuses to believe him.

Shige goes to Osaka to spend the winter with his grandparents before university starts. His father says that his grandparents want to see him before he leaves. Really, it's probably because his mother just wants to get rid of him and the disappointment that he isn't even going to try to find his heartmate. Or maybe it's to get him to change his mind.

Either way, he's going, and the night before Shige leaves, Koyama steals him away and he treats Shige to onigiri. They nibble on them in the park, scarves wrapped around their necks, fingers going numb with cold as they hurry to finish them. Koyama clasps Shige's hand, rubs a slow and steady warmth into his fingers, breath visible as the chilled winter air sweeps between them. Koyama, looking around and seeing no one crazy enough to lounge around in the park in such weather, presses needy hands into Shige's ribs, thigh, collarbone. Shige kisses him.

It's been only two weeks since Koyama and Shige have settled and already, Shige thinks that it feels like they're over before they've even begun.

His grandparents accept him with open arms and don't ask many questions. Shige has always liked their house: childhood memories of playing with pill bugs out on the sidewalk and rolling around the halls fill his mind and make him smile. So he relaxes here, calls Koyama often to keep him updated - though there isn't much to update on when he spends most of his time at home; he has no friends here in Osaka. It's only a matter of time, a couple of days in fact, before Shige gets restless.

When he mentions the idea of looking for a job to his grandparents, his grandfather says he has a friend who owns a bookstore and could use a little help. So Shige says yes, and it's only a few days later when, address in hand, he walks the few blocks to a small but cozy shop at the corner of a residential neighborhood. The bookstore is cramped and filled with books and other odd ends, but it's neat and organized. The window looks freshly washed; sunlight streams through the glass and paints the room with light.

Shige thinks it's sort of perfect.

It is there that he meets Nishikido Ryo.

He's the owner's grandson and he stands out in no particular way. As far as Shige can tell he is handsome, just another pretty boy from Osaka; when he opens his mouth Kansai dialect spills out of him in waves. He's short and lean, hair cropped and bangs barely brushing against his eyelashes. His eyelids look swollen and he blinks sleepily at Shige, but his gaze is sharp and aware, closed off. Appearance-wise, this guy is far from special, and the gazes he sends Shige range from suspicious to impenetrable. Shige gears himself up for a quiet, and boring, holiday job.

Though there is one thing that intrigues Shige.

Ryo never once asks to shake Shige's hand. Shige doesn't know yet that Ryo can't be bothered, just that he doesn't. But this is what separates him from the rest.

Perhaps it's the dust that irritates the nose or the smell of fresh paper, or maybe it's just the fact that Osaka is beautiful in the winter and no one wants to spend their time studying - whatever the reason, Shige finds he doesn't have much work to do. With time to spare, Shige spends his time reading, then reading some more, and on the days when he works with Ryo, he observes.

Ryo keeps to himself most days, a nod of acknowledgment the only greeting Shige gets. It's not like Ryo doesn't talk - Shige knows he does, he's heard him on the phone with his friends and family during break - but he doesn't even try with Shige. He's guarded, almost to the point of being hostile. It takes Shige a long time before he gets the courage to sit with Ryo in the backroom instead of bolting out as soon as Ryo steps in.

Still, Shige tries. They talk briefly, exchange small and meaningless pleasantries, but their conversations usually die early on in their shifts. For the rest of their time together, they usually spend the hours reading by themselves or asking each other for help with various tasks. Still, even then, their interactions are slow and stilted, bordering on painfully awkward.

Though perhaps it's okay that Shige is never going to get along with Ryo at this rate. He'll be back in Tokyo in only a few months, and maybe their friendship just wasn't meant to work out. They have different personalities after all, or maybe they are too much alike. They are both a little too distrustful, a little too closed off and inaccessible.

Shige doesn't really care, if he's honest, so much so that he doesn't even bother talking about Ryo to Koyama, merely mentioning him as my coworker before moving on to more interesting topics. Koyama obliges him happily, talking about his cat Nyanta and the stock market, about Fuji apples and his mother's ramen shop.

He forgets about Ryo, as Koyama rambles on about nothing and everything at all, and he's a little surprised to find himself missing home so much, so soon.

When they first touch, it's by accident.

Shige trips over his shoelaces and Ryo happens to be right beside him. They had never wanted to make skin on skin contact, had never even bothered, but perhaps it was only a matter of time. Shige stumbles and Ryo grabs his hand for leverage: this is when everything happens. Searing heat rips through his skin and spreads in waves throughout his body, almost painful in its intensity. He stares at Ryo as Ryo stares back; he thinks his heart is about to jump out of his chest and his breath heaves.

He thinks he's fallen in love from a single touch, just as the connection is supposed to work, just from the knowledge that this means they're meant to be together. And it's the worst feeling he's ever had to deal with.

From the looks of it, Ryo feels the same way. A small comfort, but comfort nonetheless.

"Shit," Ryo says.

That night, Koyama calls as he usually does and Shige lies to him for the first time.

"How was your day?" Koyama asks, voice crackling through the phone. Shige can hear the cheer behind each word, can imagine the bright smile on Koyama's face. His stomach churns, recalling the moment he touched Ryo in vivid detail. He had looked so surprised, mussed hair falling over his eyes, mouth gaping open in shock. It was enough to make Shige pull back immediately and escape from the shop, even though he still had a couple more hours of his shift left.

Shige shudders, swallows, wonders how he is supposed to tell Koyama.

Perhaps it was some kind of fluke. It had to be. Because if it weren't, then what could he say to Koyama? Hey Koyama, he rehearses in his head. Hey, things have been great, but guess what? I found my heartmate, surprise!

Shige scoffs at the very idea, the absurdity of the whole situation. He curses under his breath, bringing his hand to press against his forehead in an attempt to stem a growing migraine.

"Fine," Shige finally replies, and Koyama's distant laughter drifts into his ear. "Nothing happened."

It is the first of many lies that Shige will tell Koyama, and each time they talk, he will hate each and every one of them.

The next day, Shige and Ryo don't say anything to each other until their shifts end. Ryo turns to Shige right as he's about to pack up and leave. "We should talk, right?" He sounds hesitant and it makes Shige stare. He's never heard that tone of voice from Ryo before.

A part of him wants to say no, to bolt from the building and escape the awkwardness between them, but then Ryo is sitting down across from him. They sit silently for a few minutes and then Ryo clears his throat with more force than necessary.

"Well," Ryo starts out, and then he winces. "Fuck, this is awkward."

Shige reaches a hand to scratch the back of his neck in response, and Ryo sighs. "Look," he says. "You don't actually want this, right?" He looks like he already knows the answer to his own question, and Shige briefly wonders what gave him away. Slowly, he nods. Ryo smirks in satisfaction. "That's what I thought," he says. "You looked like you wanted to off yourself when we touched."

Shige swallows, carefully considering his next sentence and its implications. "I'd…I have a lot I would have to give up, if I just went along with you, with my-" Shige stops himself at the word heartmate; just the very thought of it makes Shige's mouth taste rancid.

Ryo seems to agree. "Yeah," he says, fiddling with the strings of his jacket hood. "So I was thinking we should just forget about what happened yesterday." His voice is overly casual and he refuses to look Shige in the eye. "You know, pretend it never did."

Shige startles, because that was way too easy, or maybe because that should've been his line.

"Fine," he says finally, his bruised ego settling in his throat and forcing the words out, "Like I'd want to be heartmates with you anyway."

In response, Ryo's eyes flash, the stubbornness in his eyes just as strong. "Good."

For as long as they can, they pretend.

Ryo orders Shige around the bookstore and to avoid any unnecessary confrontations, Shige lets him. Shige restocks the shelves when Ryo tells him to, and on slow days spends his time in the children's corner, reading his shift away. They refuse to even sit next to each other unless absolutely necessary. Behind the counter, Ryo and Shige make sure to stand at least a couple feet from each other to avoid any and all contact, knowing the consequences of even a small brush of shoulders.

But even when they try their best to steer clear of each other and avoid each other's presences, they cannot ignore what the connection has slowly been doing to them.

Only a day after they'd first touched, Shige had felt it. A gradual build-up of something, of desire that couldn't be shaken. A by-product of the established connection, it weighs down on what feels like every cell of his body, aches in the marrow of his bones and wreaks havoc on his senses.

Shige hates it with every fiber of his being and hates even more that he can do nothing about it - except, of course, for touch his heartmate as he's supposed to, but hell if that ever happens.

And he knows that Ryo can feel it too. It's there in the glances Ryo shoots his way across the store, at the way his fingers clench around the spines of books whenever Shige walks closer to him. It's apparent in the times Ryo inadvertently leans into Shige, only to back away quickly once he realizes he'd done so in the first place.

In this way, horrible and wanting, they stay away from each other for a good two weeks.

A month after Shige arrived, his calf muscle cramps up and he falls onto the ground with an embarrassed noise. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Ryo's by his side immediately. He hesitates, though it doesn't take long before Shige feels Ryo touching him. They both start and Ryo pulls back sharply, but it's enough. Shige shudders, the feeling swallows him whole and it's like the first time and anything but; he squeezes his eyes shut against the sensation. Beside him, Ryo pauses and breathes in noisily, exhales shakily before reaching out again with a slow and trembling hand.

"Excuse me for a second," Ryo murmurs, and then he helps Shige up. Heat races through Ryo's palm to the nerves in Shige's spine. Ryo presses along his side as they both stand; this time they can't ignore it. There's no excuse for the way Ryo stays glued to Shige's side as he walks Shige into the backroom to set him onto a seat. Finally, after Shige sits down, Ryo forcibly pulls his body away to the other side of the room.

"You're like a magnet," he grumbles, but Shige hears it so clearly, mostly because he understands exactly what Ryo is saying. He knows how connections are supposed to work. They are akin to gravitation, a pull towards each other that can only be soothed by even the barest of touches, facilitated by nothing but the fact that they are connected. Still, the knowledge of that fact doesn't make him any less queasy about the whole thing.

When Ryo glances at him, eyes dark and cheeks flushed, Shige almost kisses him, wants to so badly. After gathering his wits, Ryo leaves the backroom with a muttered "Holler if you need anything, I'll man the front."

The door closes. With a sigh, Shige shakily eases the cramp in his leg with an awkward massage. He presses his hand to his mouth, forces himself not to think about how much he had wanted to touch Ryo back.

He's never felt so out of control.

"I'm attracted to you and it fucking sucks," Ryo blurts out one day, and Shige turns to him because his body practically wills him to - most certainly not because he wants to.

Ryo looks distraught. "I think I said that aloud."

"You may have," Shige says lightly, though his heart is beating so quickly, so embarrassingly. He's beginning to get used to it, to the thump-thump-thump of his heart against his chest whenever Ryo nears, but he still wishes his stupid heart would shut the fuck up. At least Shige is reminded that he is not the only one suffering in this situation.

Ryo flushes. He looks angry with himself as well as bewildered. "Let's pretend that didn't happen either."

Shige snorts, remembering earlier words. He thinks of Ryo's initial request, of mutual agreements that had only resulted in a longing nothing else could satisfy. Briefly, he wonders what exactly is holding Ryo back, wonders why he's so insistent on ignoring the connection when everyone else in the world desires it.

"We're doing an awful lot of pretending, aren't we?" he asks rhetorically.

He looks up to see Ryo's face turned away; when he follows Ryo's line of sight, his eyes snag the showcase window and the reflections within it. They both look terrified.

Instead of reading novels and preparatory law texts like Shige usually does, he begins to go through the bookstore's surprisingly meager selection of heartmate literature. He researches whatever he can dig up, compares theories and experiments on the connection. The results are more depressing than he would've liked, but nothing he didn't expect.

The connection, Shige learns, once found and completed, is too great to deny, too much to hide from. The connection by the very nature of its existence simply doesn't allow people to. The attraction everyone yearns for between potential heartmates comes naturally, springing forth from the connection itself. If two heartmates, once connected, are apart for too long, an intense longing takes over, and it's only a matter of time before heartmates make their way back to each other. When a heartmate dies, whether before or after a connection is established, then said connection is null and void. The person is free to settle and live with whomever he or she so chooses. The only problem is that many will never meet their heartmate, so many wait all their lives wondering whether it would be better just to settle and get things over with.

His research yields nothing he didn't already know. It's been that way since the very beginning, everyone learns about it in all their history classes. Each book, each theory, ultimately says the same thing.

It doesn't mean he has to accept it.

Or maybe, if he's honest, the only reason Shige really bothers to re-research this at all is this: for a second, when Ryo had looked at him, eyes worried and shuttered, Shige had wanted to give in to the connection and forego everything, just as everyone said he would.

"Why did you settle with me?" Shige asks one day, interrupting Koyama as he recounts his trip to the beach with Massu and Tegoshi - it wasn't the same without you, Shige! - and a terrifying pause resounds.

He's just about to repeat himself when he hears Koyama shifting on the other end.

"I didn't want you to be lonely," Koyama says simply.

"I'm not lonely," Shige says, and Koyama lets out a laugh that even Shige can tell is steeped in disapproval.

"I knew you would never look for your heartmate. You never touch people unless you absolutely have to," Koyama says, voice low and sad.

Shige is stunned. But Koyama couldn't have possibly...he wouldn't. "You gave up the search for your heartmate for me?" Shige asks quietly, voice strained with disbelief.

Another pause, and this time Koyama's voice is tiny and quiet. "We may not be connected," he says, "but that doesn't mean I don't love you."

Shige feels heat hovering ominously behind him so he snaps around, book in hand - The Connection: What Happens When We Find One? - which results in him colliding awkwardly against Ryo in the cooking stacks, where he was hiding to finish the last chapter.

Ryo hisses at the intense burst of heat that erupts throughout their bodies. It leaves them gasping, the sound loud and resounding in the empty bookstore. Even after they pull away with shuddering breath, Shige's eyes are wide and teeth clenched, as the growing familiar feeling of longing for Ryo's touch takes over him again.

"Sorry," Ryo says, wincing as he rubs the arm that Shige had pressed against. "I just wanted to see what you were reading." He pauses, eyes unsure, and that says everything to Shige. "If the experts were saying anything that we didn't already know."

Shige snorts at that, chucking the book away in disgust. Ryo sighs as if expecting it, and he picks up the book and moves to shelve the tome in its proper place. Numbly, Shige follows. "It says we're doomed," Shige summarizes.

"Oh," Ryo laughs dryly. "I could have figured that out for myself."

Inwardly, Shige sighs. They both know they're back to square one.

Or maybe they had never even left.

They're organizing new book orders when Ryo turns to him, face curious. "Why are you here in Osaka?"

Shige looks at him. He's already answered this question, or at least given a partial answer riddled with half-truths. He responds with a question of his own. "Why do you hate the concept of heartmates so much?"

Ryo starts. He looks surprised at the sudden question before his eyes narrow. "Only if you tell me first."

Maybe it's because it's a dreary February day, or maybe it's because they're both exhausted, but to both their surprises, Shige does. The story pours out of him like water from the tap. He talks about his mother and father hating their marriage, their mutual resentment at having never been able to find a heartmate. Talks about the failure that they'd assumed their lives to be, the heavy feeling of loss and regret that had characterized their lives, and that had ultimately influenced Shige in ways unimaginable. He talks about Koyama, about how Koyama always knew more about Shige than Shige ever knew himself, how he was always ready at the drop of a hat to take care of him. How Koyama had made one of the biggest sacrifices of his life - the connection - just for him. He talks about the things that Ryo already knows too, about how he hates the connection, the fables, the dreams, the lies and the truths, but most importantly he talks about how he hates the connection for having the power to make turning away from Koyama seem so easy.

That night, he doesn't get the chance to ask Ryo about his situation. Instead, he talks and he talks; it's past closing time now but Ryo never once stops him. At some point in his rant, Shige had slumped down in his chair and Ryo had moved quietly beside him. When Shige finally stops and catches his breath, it's then that Ryo takes his hand in his. It's meant as a brotherly form of comfort, but Shige takes in the expanding warmth of Ryo's hand greedily, more than a little guilty about the pleasant feeling coursing through his body.

Shige swallows, hating that he doesn't want Ryo to let go. When he looks up, he knows that Ryo hates that he doesn't want to either.

After work the next day, Shige invites Ryo to eat with him, eyes wide with determination. Stop ignoring me, Shige thinks, willing the demand into Ryo's brain.

Ryo says yes.

They eat at a ramen shop and make sure to keep the conversation light, only discussing topics that are both pleasant and unobtrusive. Near the end of their meal, after they're done talking about Gundam and LCD screens and tits, Ryo leans in with an unsure look on his face.

"I may have been in love once," Ryo admits. Shige's mouth gapes open and despite the sight, Ryo looks more serious, more solemn than he's ever allowed himself to be around Shige. "Or at least I thought I was. I'm not sure if it really was, since, you know-" he gestures tiredly.

"The only true love is a heartmate's connection," Shige finishes, reciting the words from memory; they have the words practically embedded in their brains.

"Yeah," Ryo mumbles, "that." He stabs at a pork ball, pausing as he chews. Then he glances at Shige with a hard expression. "Hey, you can't leave Koyama, okay?"

Shige stares, taken aback. He swallows, understanding yet still despising the disappointment that thrums through his veins and makes him want to say no. On Ryo's part, Ryo looks like he doesn't even want Shige to agree anyway. Not to mention, his earlier hesitation gave him away.

Still, Shige thinks of Koyama, of bright eyes crinkling, smooth sun-kissed skin, I-love-you's whispered through shitty phone lines. And then he thinks about Ryo, brief, so brief, but it's enough for him to have to force himself to think about Koyama again.

"I'll try not to," Shige says honestly. Ryo glares but it's not fully heated, not fully angry. Shige's shoulders relax slightly and Ryo goes back to his ramen with his mouth pursed.

It's not enough, but they both accept the honesty of it.

It's ironic that after their first dinner together, when Ryo tells Shige to stay settled with Koyama, that Ryo begins to relax.

He doesn't fully, of course. Ryo has always had walls up against Shige, keeping him out with force. But the day Ryo brings his guitar to work is when Shige realizes that Ryo is giving him a chance, is opening himself to Shige in a way he's never allowed himself to before.

So after hours, they sit together in the backroom, Ryo with the guitar propped on his knee and Shige leaning back against the wall, cross-legged on the floor. Ryo plays and Shige cocks his head; there's something discordant about the song, and he doesn't know what it is until Ryo tells him that his guitar is old and a little out of tune.

Ryo shrugs when Shige asks him why he doesn't tune it. "It doesn't have to be perfect," Ryo says, melancholy rooted deep in his voice. "Nothing is."

He continues to strum idle notes on his guitar, singing soft and gruff notes under his breath. Shige closes his eyes, lets the out-of-tune notes wash over him in their imperfection. After a few minutes, Ryo clears his throat.

"I never did tell you why I hated heartmates and connections and all that shit," he says casually.

When Shige's eyes flutter open, it's to the sight of Ryo's eyes hard and hurt, indescribably angry. Shige sits up a little straighter.

"My old man found his heartmate on the train home from work. He came home, kissed my mom, told us he loved us. And then he packed a suitcase and we never saw him again." Shige stares and Ryo finally stops playing, eyes shadowed as he recollects past events. Shige gets up from the floor and moves to Ryo's side of the room, kneeling beside him, knee grazing Ryo's thigh. Ryo hisses but he doesn't pull away. He presses the back of his hand to his eyes and when Ryo drops his other hand into his lap, Shige reaches for it and holds his hand over his quietly; Ryo turns his palm around slowly so that they're holding hands.

"He left my mom and four kids to fend for themselves," Ryo says, a bitter laugh erupting from his throat, "and everyone knows that it's the connection that made him do it, so we're not even allowed to get angry that he left. But I am," Ryo says, nearly spitting the words out. Shige strokes his hand gently. "I am," he repeats harshly, and this is when Shige kisses him.

It isn't perfect timing, but nothing is ever perfect so Shige doesn't find it in him to care. Instead he focuses on this: on Ryo's lips, a little chapped and tasting of peppermint. Ryo maneuvers his guitar to the floor and Shige reaches his hands up to cup Ryo's face, his fingers lingering on smooth cheekbones crowned by tears that have inadvertently fallen. Shige thumbs them away and Ryo pulls him in closer, a whine spilling from his lips half out of embarrassment, half out of wanting more. So they kiss, bodies bent over themselves in that cramped room; Ryo is insistent as his fingers tangle upwards into Shige's hair. He isn't as careful as Koyama as he kisses - Ryo's more demanding, lips and tongue rough against his own, and it's enough to remind Shige that this isn't Koyama.

Shige is the one to pull away first, and Ryo blinks at him in confusion, his lips red and cheeks flushed, so beautiful. And then his eyes widen: he's just realized who he's kissing and why he can't.

"You're settled," he breathes, and Shige nods slowly, attempting to will his heart to stop racing. "You-you can't." He looks so embarrassed with himself, so upset at his lack of self control. He pulls away from Shige sharply. "You're not allowed to be like my father," he says and Shige nods numbly. "This is why I told you what happened, so you wouldn't."

He stands up shakily and moves to put his guitar back into its case.

Shige finally understands.

Shige thinks briefly about being selfish as he walks out of the shop, humming the dissonant chords that had rung in his ears just minutes before.

Certainly, no one would fault him for getting together with his heartmate. So many relationships in history have broken up because of it, and no one could ever argue against it. Connections have always had the power to break up imperfect loves that were never meant to be, slotting in the perfect ones as if the settled relationships had never existed.

It still disturbs Shige though, that he wants to touch Ryo, again and again and again. Is Shige really no different from everyone else that he would want to give up his settled just for a kiss in a cramped bookstore backroom, for a connection he would never experience anywhere else?

"If you met your heartmate…" Shige says to Koyama one day. He's lying on his bed picking at a scab on his knee, struggling to find the right words. Koyama laughs in surprise and Shige tries again. "What would you do if you actually met your heartmate?"

"Well this is odd, coming from you," Koyama says. "Why are you asking me this?"

Shige rolls his eyes, mentally pinching Koyama or something equally painful. "Humor me," he says. "If you met your heartmate, what would you do?"

Koyama's quiet for a long time, but Shige gets the feeling it's more out of nervousness and not actually because he's thinking about it. He knows Koyama, knows that he's probably thought about the possibility long before he had first asked Shige to settle with him.

"Well," he starts carefully, "don't take this the wrong way, but you've heard the stories, read the research. If the connection were all that it's cracked up to be, I guess I'd have to go with my heartmate. I…I don't think I'd have a choice," he admits. And then he laughs, almost shrill through the phone line, "But you and I both know that's never going to happen, so don't worry, Shige."

Shige laughs vacantly and lets Koyama change the topic to laundry and pop songs.

He has his answer.

"The rest of my vacation," Shige says. Ryo glances at him and Shige grabs his hand. Warmth, just beginning to feel familiar, blossoms with the touch. Ryo doesn't pull away. "Until I go back for school. You don't want me to leave Koyama, so I won't. Let's just have this last month together."

Ryo looks all at once alarmed, angry and unsure. On impulse, Shige leans forward and kisses Ryo lightly on the mouth, pressure brief against his lips.

"I'm not going to leave Koyama," he promises, and Ryo hesitates only briefly before pushing himself forward and kissing Shige again.

Once they give in, they fall deep. The rest of the winter is characterized by kisses, lazy and heady, of gentle touches to sore muscles, of hands skimming skin, of searing contact, molten heat, of everything Shige's dreamed about late at night and nothing like he could ever imagine.

It is dangerous, and amazing, and almost perfect.

Their time together passes all too quickly.

He gradually stays out later and later with Ryo, squeezes in as much time with him as he can at work before they have to leave the shop for home. The weather's getting nicer but it's still frigidly cold at night, so Ryo and Shige make the best of the days they are told to close up. The moment Ryo's grandfather heads home, they hide in the backroom, their own space of sorts.

One morning, the sun is just beginning to rise when he finally heads home from work; he had never been so grateful that he didn't need public transport to get there. As he heads down his grandparents' neighborhood street, dreaming happily of breakfast and a long nap before work in the evening, he pauses at the sight of his grandfather on the porch, cigarette in hand.

His grandfather nods at him slowly, taking great care to glance obviously at his watch.

"I hope you're getting paid overtime," his grandfather rasps, voice husky and concerned.

Shige swallows. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I would be out so late." Inwardly, he panics. Please don't tell my parents please don't shit-

"Whomever you're seeing must be pretty special," his grandfather notes calmly. Shige winces.

Throat dry, he fishes for something to say. But then he sees the way his grandfather's eyes bore into his, and for some inexplicable reason, he decides to tell the truth.

"I met my heartmate," he says solemnly, and his grandfather's eyes widen in shock. "We connected."

His grandfather splutters, cigarette in hand forgotten. "You actually met your heartmate? That's who you've been meeting these past nights?"

Shige nods carefully. His grandfather sits back, suitably impressed. "That's...I'm so happy for you, Shigeaki."

He blinks. Happy. Now that's something Shige hadn't thought possible in this whole scenario. But his grandfather looks earnest, content, pleased that something has actually worked out for his one and only grandson.

"I hope she makes you very happy," he says, eyes bright as he smiles. He opens the door to the house and gestures Shige inside. "Now go to bed, you must be exhausted."

Shige doesn't have the heart to tell him that his heartmate is a he, but he treasures the sentiment anyway.

"Are we here only because we found each other?"

Ryo looks at him under heavy half-lids. "What do you mean?"

Three-in-the-morning musings as they knock elbows side by side in the backroom. It's Ryo's job to close up tonight. After his grandfather had left earlier that night with a wave, they had wasted no time in locking the door to the store and sequestering themselves in the back. Ryo's fingers find his and the warmth spreads to the tips of his toes, relaxes him immediately.

"Heartmates," Shige murmurs into Ryo's palm, such heat. "Are we only heartmates because we actually managed to touch each other?" Ryo cocks his head and Shige continues. "If I had gone back to Tokyo without ever once touching you, we would have never known. Would we still be heartmates then? Are we only heartmates because we bumped into each other? Or do you think it's always been like this for us, like we've been pre-programmed for each other? Researchers-"

Ryo cuts him off with a snort. "You and your research. Let me just say this: are you saying I'm the only one feeling like I'm going to burn alive when we touch?"

"Koyama makes me feel pretty warm when we kiss," Shige mumbles.

Ryo takes Shige's chin into his fingers, stubby fingers that graze roughly on the beginnings of stubble. His eyes scream challenge. He kisses Shige, slow and wet. Shige clutches onto Ryo's thigh.

"How did that make you feel?" Ryo asks moments later, a lazy and satisfied grin plastered on his face.

Shige struggles to find the words but nothing comes close. He probably never will be able to describe how Ryo's touches feel, doesn't think he has the right vocabulary for it. So Shige doesn't say anything. Ryo sighs.

"Yes," Ryo says finally, after he chews on his bottom lip in thought. "Yes, we would still be heartmates. We'd be stupid heartmates though, searching and searching and never finding anything, just like everyone else in this godforsaken world."

"That's depressing," Shige says.

Ryo shrugs and he kisses Shige again.

On Shige's last day of work, they fight.

"So do we just end things now?" Ryo asks. Shige glares, irritated at Ryo's lack of tact if nothing else. "I mean, it's not like we love each other," he says, though Shige isn't sure who Ryo is trying to convince.

"Maybe not," Shige agrees. "Maybe not yet," he amends, and Ryo's eyes flash with something forbidden and afraid. Shige swallows, "Are you that willing to let all of this go?" But it's not like they really had anything, the two of them. They had resorted to illicit cuddling and secret kisses, confirming touches and pleasant heat shared between them. Sometimes it disgusts Shige just how far he has fallen.

"You're the one who's already settled," Ryo says in eerie calm. "Have you even told him about me?"

Shige pauses, and that's enough answer for Ryo. He scoffs, disbelief reflected in dark eyes. "God, you're exactly like my father. No, wait, you're not, because you're actually going to go back to the one you've settled with." He laughs, high pitched, tone harsh and grating. "God," he repeats. He begins to pace around the room. "God, why am I so upset? Why does this make me feel like shit?" he grits out. "A heartmate being so fucking miserable even after establishing a connection, this has got to the first in the history of all this heartmate bullshit."

Shige clenches his fist. "So what am I supposed to do?" he asks. You're the one who told me I couldn't be with you, he thinks accusingly, but even then he knows that isn't fair. Still, he's angry, so he gestures animatedly. "Do you really expect me to give up everything I've ever known for a guy I met only two months ago?"

Ryo glares. "Well, you need to tell Koyama what's going on at the very least, you bastard. Be honest for fucking once."

"Since when have I ever lied about this?" Shige asks incredulously. Ryo looks at him in surprised, expression in his eyes sad and disappointed.

"We've been lying to each other since the very moment we touched. Did you actually think we could connect as we did and then go back to our lives as if nothing had happened?" Shige looks away guiltily, and Ryo lets out a bark of vicious triumph. "You and I both knew we were treading on dangerous ground, but we pretended that we could touch and then move on because we wanted to. We were too weak to stop ourselves," Ryo says. Shige knows he can't disagree.

"Shit," Shige breathes. Ryo's right; Shige knew it all along. "Shit, we're so stupid."

"This whole thing is stupid," Ryo adds softly, hand brief on Shige's forearm before he forces his hand down angrily. "That's why we both hate it. Fuck, you know what?" he asks with a bitter laugh. "This is probably why we're heartmates, because we both can't stand this."

Shige thinks Ryo is probably right.

That night, Shige calls Koyama. Koyama answers, voice giddy as he talks about how excited he is for Shige's impending train ride back home. Shige finally stops waiting for a lull in the conversation and interrupts.

"I met my heartmate," Shige says.

All Shige hears is Koyama breathing, in an out, in and out. It used to be a soothing sound, calm and smooth. Now it shudders through the phone and rattles in his ear. God, the guilt, it weighs down his nerves like lead.

"Who?" Koyama's voice sounds so wilted, so afraid of the answer. Shige swallows.

"His name is Ryo," Shige says slowly, hesitant to say more. "He's-"

Frantic laughter cuts through the phone line and Shige freezes.

"Oh god, stop." Koyama's voice is shaky and pitched higher; nerves and fear, Shige knows all the signs. "Give me a second, I'm, I need to-" More bouts of high-pitched, quivering laughter.

Finally, the question. Shige should have been expecting it but it still makes him jump in surprise.

"How does he make you feel?"

Shige still doesn't really have an answer for that. But for Koyama, he tries. It's the least he could do.

"Like dying," he says. Finds it's not far from the truth.

More shrill giggling that makes his skin crawl with unease. "That's so corny," Koyama says, and for a split-second, Shige wants to laugh back. It really is, but then again this whole set-up is ridiculous. Heartmates, god, what a fantastically horrible idea; Shige's never felt so awful. "You must've really hated it," Koyama muses quietly, so soft Shige almost misses it.

Shige clutches the phone tight, wills Koyama to feel exactly what he's feeling; to understand, somehow. "I really hated it," he says.

Eventually, Koyama hangs up before Shige can answer the one question on both their minds.

Are we through?

Shige comes back to Tokyo. The moment he drops his stuff off at his house, he heads over to Koyama's.

Koyama's eyes are rimmed red when he greets Shige at the door. He doesn't let him inside, and that's when Shige knows that things are over.

"I'm sorry for hanging up on you," he says. "I didn't want you to break up with me over the phone." A small smirk graces Koyama's features, a slight quirk of the lip. "I deserve better than that." He sounds strong, appears to be. But there's a hitch in his voice that leaves Shige aching to caress the smooth column of Koyama's throat, the way he used to when Koyama had a cold.

He catches himself, knows he has no right to touch Koyama ever again. And there's a pause before Koyama punches him. It doesn't carry much force since it's still just Koyama, and his awkward fist grazes Shige's shoulder. Still, it connects, and Shige pulls trembling fingers to rub the sore spot.

"God, I think I hate you right now," Koyama says flatly. Shige wonders just how much Koyama actually means it. "When did you meet him?"

Honesty, Shige reminds himself, it'd be too easy to lie. But he's had enough lying the past few months. "At the beginning of winter vacation."

Koyama's still for a while. He rakes a shaky hand through his hair; it's freshly dyed a bright copper color - Shige remembers Koyama mentioning getting his hair dyed with Massu back in February.

"I can't believe you actually met your heartmate," Koyama marvels, half out of surprise and half bitter at the irony of the whole thing. "You're the one that made me want to give up in the first place. Years and years of you telling me that the schools, the higher-ups, everyone was spouting lies. That I would never find my heartmate, that it wasn't worth the effort." He shakes his head roughly. "God, you wouldn't even try, you bastard. I at least tried. I tried so hard," he rants. Shige nearly moves to hold him, only barely stopping himself.

"Koyama," he says instead, "I'm not breaking up with you."

Koyama stares, mouth agape in disbelief. "Why not?" he demands. "You've found your heartmate, you, you caustic unbeliever. You did it when no one else could," he accuses. He's becoming angry again, angry with Shige, angry with a person he's never met, and angry with himself.

Shige reaches out a cautious hand to Koyama, lays it on his forearm. He nearly winces when he feels absolutely nothing, nothing compared to the sheer heat, sheer pleasure of each touch Ryo gave him.

"He made me promise that I wouldn't," Shige says simply.

The words make Koyama stop. He swallows, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "And you would do that? You would listen to him just like that?" He pauses, cocks his head, "Is it because he's your heartmate?"

Shige nods slowly. Koyama's face tightens in dismay before he smiles a little too widely. He laughs that same frantic nervous laughter that makes Shige's stomach churn. Koyama doesn't look Shige in the eye as he forces himself to stop giggling and it's a while before he speaks again. "If you're not going to break up with me, then I'm going to have to break up with you."

The words hurt more than they should, but Shige doesn't expect any less.

They don't really talk to each other after that. Koyama goes to Meiji and Shige to Aoyama; the separation makes things a little easier for the two of them to bear. He still feels an unmistakable ache, an indescribable emptiness that comes from the separation of heartmates. And though it's painful, almost like a constant queasiness, Shige forces the pain down and refuses to acknowledge it, knows he has to if he wants to get through the semester intact.

In his first classes, he refuses to shake hands with anyone. Before, it was all about making a statement, but now it's because he doesn't have to anymore. The irony in all of this is not lost in Shige.

One day, a girl sitting next to him in his public speaking lecture looks at him curiously, tilts her head in wonderment as she stares. She has a snaggletooth and poorly permed hair; Shige has half a mind to move somewhere else in the lecture hall when she finally speaks.

She asks him who his heartmate is.

Shige stares. "Why do you think I've found mine?" he asks.

The girl shrugs. "There's longing written all over your face, it's so obvious. It's like you've tasted something none of us ever have, or ever will. It makes you look…upset," she says carefully. "What's it like, meeting your heartmate?"

Shige thinks about it.

It sucks, Shige wants to say. It's the worst thing you'll ever feel. It will rip apart relationships and ruin everything you've ever believed in, and you will hate it with all you possess.

But then he thinks of licks of heat, arching spines, guitars and smiles, Ryo.

"It's amazing," he finds himself saying. The girl nods appropriately, as if she had expected the textbook answer all along.

During the summer holiday, his mother finally asks him why he had broken up with Koyama when they could've had something good; maybe not great, but decent at least. She admits to him that she feels dejected that her one and only son has refused to look for heartmate, but she wasn't expecting Shige to just stop seeing Koyama altogether.

He doesn't have the heart to tell her that it's Koyama who's been avoiding him, not Shige.

Still, when his mother asks, Shige stiffens. His immediate thought is to mumble and avoid the question, but instead, he forces himself to be honest.

"Mom," Shige says. "I found my heartmate in Osaka."

The joy he was expecting to see is brief but it's immediately weighed down by something else. His mother's brow furrows with something that looks like worry, and he lets himself be pulled into his mother's arms. "Is that why you broke up with Koyama?" his mother asks softly.

Shige nods into her arms and his mother holds him close. "Shige, I'm so sorry."

"I am too," Shige says softly. He can feel tears forming and he forces them away angrily. "I really hurt Koyama, Mom. It was awful."

His mother nods slowly. A pause. When she looks at him, Shige already knows that she's going to ask about Ryo.

"Your heartmate," his mother starts out carefully, "Is…he worth it?" She sounds curious, worried and happy all at the same time. Shige's lips quirk into a small smile.

But then he wonders. Does he miss Ryo because he actually loves him? Or is it just the connection? Were they one and the same thing? Does it even really matter?

He supposes he'll never know.

Shige swallows. "He's my heartmate, Mom." His voice almost cracks as he spits out the words.

His mother nods. He realizes that he should have known from the start that that's all the explanation he would ever need. He's slowly beginning to not mind that fact, even if it should irk him more than it does.

He lets it go.

It shouldn't surprise Shige that he meets Koyama a couple of days later, at the convenience store between their houses. If he thought the day after he had first touched Ryo was awkward, it was nothing compared to this: Koyama, with bags of groceries balanced on his hip as he searches his other pocket for something - cell phone, keys maybe - and Shige, about to walk in and nearly colliding into Koyama in the process.

They stare at each other.

"Hey," Shige says, waving awkwardly in greeting. Koyama nods slightly in response. He fishes for pleasantries, something normal to say, anything. "How have you been?"

Koyama's eyes narrow, but they don't hold the same malice as they had when they'd broken up back in March. "I'm doing alright." He pauses, and then he glances at Shige carefully. "I...I met a guy, at Meiji. His name's Yamashita."

"Oh," Shige says, surprised. "How...is that going?" There's no possible way Koyama could have met his heartmate, right? Though then again, Shige isn't one to talk.

Koyama shrugs. "Alright." He catches Shige's inquisitive look and shakes his head. "Don't...it's not anything, Shige. We're just friends." His eyes soften for a bare moment, but Shige still catches it. "How's your heartmate?"

Shige glances away and when he looks back at Koyama, he sees diluted anger, but he also sees concern. "Haven't seen him since I left Osaka."

Koyama tuts. "Are you trying to be self-righteous again?" Shige's eyes widen in shock and Koyama rolls his eyes. "You forget that I know how you operate. Why would you punish yourself like that?" He glances at his cell phone and curses under his breath. "Hey, I have to get this home. But, um," he pauses. Shige smiles, finishing the sentence for him.

"I'll see you around, okay?" Shige says, and Koyama gives a small smile before he waves awkwardly, heading down the street with bags in hand.

He walks into the grocery, but one thing remains stuck in his head. Why would he punish himself like that? What did that ever accomplish?

Hours later he still hasn't come to an answer. Though that may be answer enough.

He's supposed to spend the rest of the winter in Tokyo, but his mother ships him to Osaka immediately, refusing to listen to any logical reasoning or argument.

"I never found my heartmate," she says, "and you've found yours." She pauses, voice thoughtful as she helps Shige pack his luggage. "Shige, I didn't want things to turn out like this for you, really, but if you've found him, you need to go back."

Shige shuffles, awkwardly voicing his biggest worry. "I don't know if he's still there," Shige admits.

His mother hugs him in response. "Just go," his mother says softly. "I'll tell your father why you've gone. If he's really your heartmate, he won't have left."

"Like I did?" Shige mutters. His mother looks at him sternly.

"You're going back," she says simply. "That's enough."

Shige's grandfather drops him off at the bookstore immediately after arrives, and Shige doesn't even realize it until his grandfather parks across the store and looks at Shige expectantly.

"Aren't we going to drop off my stuff?" Shige blurts out, suddenly desiring more time. He stalls, "We can do that first, before I come back here. Or maybe-"

But his grandfather looks at him pointedly, shutting him up. "You've waited long enough, don't you think?" He nods back at the storefront. "My friend says his grandson has been miserable the last year. Apparently you two got really close in your last months working there, staying late to work voluntarily together, even helping each other to close up." He looks at Shige shrewdly, and Shige knows his grandfather's figured it all out. "I may be old, but I've still got some brain cells left. Even if they're degenerating fast."

"Don't say that," Shige chides softly, but he cracks a small smile. "Thank you," he says.

His grandfather chuckles and then waves impatiently. "Now get out of my car."

Shige clambers out of the car, and doesn't even wait for his grandfather to pull away, heading straight for the bookstore. He doesn't let himself stop, knows that if he stops then he'll just start thinking. And then he'd never get the courage to walk in. It's with a deep breath that he swings the door wide open. The doorbell is familiar and grating, and when Ryo looks up, Shige freezes. Ryo's mouth gapes open, and Shige forces air back into his lungs.

"Koyama broke up with me," Shige says.

Ryo stares.

"I haven't been very good without you around," Shige says honestly, and Ryo continues to stare in disbelief. "It seems this connection thing really messes with heartmates if they haven't seen each other for extended periods of time," he jokes.

Ryo scoffs, but his voice is shaky as he fumbles with the book in his hand. "Yeah, well, it's not my fault you can't handle it."

"I missed you," Shige says in response, means the words with everything he has. His gaze turns soft and he makes sure Ryo sees it. Ryo swallows, and Shige takes a deep breath. "I think we should try this…connection, love thing. See where it takes us." He reaches out with his hand. "Kato Shigeaki," he says, an intimation of how a proper first meeting is supposed to go; the irony does not go unnoticed.

Ryo is quiet for a long time. Shige's hand is just beginning to shake before Ryo reaches his hand out as well. When Shige squints, he can see it slightly trembling.

"Nishikido Ryo," he says; voice quiet, upset, hopeful.

Shige looks at the outreached hand, thinks of the past year, thinks of Koyama. He thinks of summer, of musty bookstores and heated kisses in the backroom, and he thinks of Ryo. He reaches across the counter and clasps his hand; they shudder as a familiar warmth races through their bodies like liquid fire. Shige feels more complete than he's ever been and he knows he doesn't want to be anywhere else.

And so, together, they try.

AN: I feel like I just gave birth to a very difficult child. You know, the ones that kick all the time and generally make your life miserable. But the delivery is over so yay!

All I have to say to my recipient is this: I just hope you like it, cloudy_monday, and thank you for being so understanding about everything. Once again, I'm sorry it's so horribly late T____T.

I have to thank my friends for holding my hand through this (and dealing with my twitter rants T_T). It's been a long time since I've written substantive NEWS fic and I'll admit that I was really nervous about writing this. I especially have to thank htenywg, zukkii and maiaide, who looked over the story and were amazingly helpful and supportive :) You are all so awesome ::hugsssssss::

Also, zukkii has summed up my writing in a beautiful way and I'd just like to share it:

"You're good at heaping angst on angst with a side of angst. And angst dressing."

LMAO.

Take care everyone, and thank you for reading :)