First Day [Kiyoharu]

[Inaba Koshi]

Mid February brought about the start of the new school term, with the orientation briefings and school music camps lightening up the atmosphere in the prestigious academy.

Some time last December, the director of Ageha had called together a board meeting to discuss the coming year's goals and review their past achievements, alongside several announcements on the changes that the school will be undergoing. One of which was the new addition of a special guest lecturer...a part-time member of the teaching faculty that would host special classes and speeches not only for the students, but for the teachers as well...seperately, of course, with different course objectives each session.

Not wanting Kiyoharu to receive a rude shock at the news, this new part-timer had sent his good friend of some 20 years, a handwritten, snail-mailed letter all about it.

And it was right now that said man stepped into the staff room after his inspiring speech that commemorated and successfully ended the first day of his work here at Ageha.

Inaba stepped in quietly with a polite bow to whoever who was nearest to the entrance, trying his best to be as discreet as possible but that part of his plot failed, simply because upon having one sneakered foot placed into the room, several heads turned and rose to applause the man again for his enthralling speech just moments ago.

"Ah! Oh dear...oh no..! Thank you...Thank you minna-san. It's okay. It's over already. Please! Don't stand up! Oh no!"

A deep blush rose over his chiseled features and poor Inaba had to scramble for his seat, bending and bowing his way through the applauding teachers who laughed at his humility. Good thing his desk wasn't too far away from the door.



Sitting down then with a sigh of resignation, the man then remembered he was actually looking for someone.

"Ah, excuse me, where's Kiyoharu?"

He asked one of the teachers nearby.

[Kiyoharu]

Mid February brought more cold with it and Kiyoharu was tired of the cold. He loathed it, hated it more then he could put into words and that was saying something; he was a vocalist, words were his thing. Still, just because it was cold didn't mean he was going to stop smoking and there was where he was, in front of the building, shifting around as he hurried to finish the cigarette.

Usually he just would have smoked inside but, he was tired of hearing it from the head of the school besides, he like his privacy and he needed it at the moment. His daughter had called and it was so nice to hear her voice and speak to her again that he braved the cold.

If there was one thing he didn't mess around with, it was his daughter. He kept her well away from his fame, only bring up that he had a child so rarely it was simply dismissed as mere rumor, just like his alleged affair a few years back that lead to a private divorce. Only now that he walked away from the spot light did he realize how stupid he was to mess around on his sweet wife who stood by him through it all.

Even now, two years latter, his finger still felt naked without her ring upon it. "Alright honey," He murmured softly, affectionately into the phone, flicking the remains of his cigarette away and crushing the still cherry red tip under the toe of his sneaker. "Have a good day and I'll talk to you latter." He hummed softly, smiling (even though he knew she couldn't see it). "Love you too honey, byebye."

Sliding the phone closed, he tucked it back in the safety of his jean pockets and darted back inside. It really was far too could out there for him and he was glad that he was now within the warmth of the building. Since he was in a good mood (and most of the students were in some lecture), he decided to actually get work done.

Making his way to the Staff Lounge, he entered it, heading straight towards his desk and only pausing when he heard his name, uttered in a voice familiar to his ears. It seemed his day was going to be a good one.

Changing directions, he made his way over to where he had heard the voice and causally leaned against the man's desk. "How rude," He murmured, a soft smile upon his lips that held no malice, only joy at seeing an old friend. "You didn't even tell me you were coming here Inaba."

[Inaba Koshi]

"Where else would I be?"

The man replied as he stood up to receive Kiyoharu in a strong, affectionate embrace.

"How was New Year's? Has Keisuke-san's back finally given up on him?"

Inaba reluctantly withdrew from the hug only to have his friend held at arm's length, observing the other for a few quiet moments.

"You look tired. Did Zepp tour take too much out of you? I should email Fullface and give them a piece of my mind."

The last time they physically met was nearly six months ago, with Inaba busy recording in L.A. and then the MAGIC tour, having kept up corresponding via text messages and the occasional phone call until January this year.

"So this is what you do now! It's excellent! I'm really surprised, Mori. You know when you told me about this new venture I was shocked! But it's great! It's really great. Ah...please, here."

Inaba picked up an empty chair nearby and wheeled it over to offer Kiyoharu a proper seat, sitting down himself only after his friend was settled down.

"Did you not get my letter?"

About him getting invited to talk and tutor special workshops for the Academy.

[Kiyoharu]

"With you?" Kiyoharu questioned, returning the affectionate embrace. "Who knows." Inaba was always keeping busy doing this and that and usually Kiyoharu himself was as well...as shocking as that seemed. He wasn't just a slacker; he just found it hard to care about anything when he left the spot light for this modest teaching job and he found it even harder to actually do something and teach the students who looked up at him with bright eyes and awe at having the Kiyoharu teach them.

He must be such a let down to them...

"New Year's was quite shockingly and his back is still going strong." He chuckled, allowing his arms to return to his side and he stood there patiently, allowing his long time friend to observe him, knowing that those sharp eyes would pick up on anything, even what he hid so easily for all those around him. One wasn't friends with someone for twenty odd years without noticing when something was off.

The last time he had seen the very man before him in person was well over six months ago and form what he could remember of it, it was brief. A hug, kind words of greeting and then they were each being swept away, Inaba to his tour and Kiyoharu back to the studio which he quickly got fed up with and just walked out, turning his back on everything he had ever worked for.

He almost regretted it. He knew if he had stayed and finished the album he had been working on, he wouldn't be where he was now. He would be on tour, doing photoshoot after photoshoot and pv filming one after the other because once he got started, he just didn't stop. He was like the energize bunny in that regarded: he just kept going and going and going.

"No," He chuckled, dismissing Inaba because he knew the man would do it too. "It was just a long day yesterday." Which was a little white lie that held truth to it. The record company had tired him out, he had tired himself out and he just, had no passion anymore and why should he? It had become nothing but deadlines after deadlines and looks.

It wasn't about the music anymore. The focus was on his image and name, not his talent and Kiyoharu was tired of that. He was in music because he loved making, watching a simple idea form into something great. Making it big was great, wonderful even but there was just...no passion anymore.

In the staff lounge wasn't the place to talk about that though. Maybe latter, when there were no other ears to over hear and then had a chance to catch up he would come clean about all of it.

Chuckling, he took the offered seat and ignored the questions about being here at the academy. "Enough about me old friend, what about you? How have you been? and," He added with a soft grin. "It's obvious I didn't. It's a surprise to see you here."

[Inaba Koshi]

The man relaxed in his own seat then after hearing Kiyoharu out.

"You haven't been going home much."

He guessed with a growing smile, lacing both hands together on a knee after crossing one leg over the other.

Which was one of the most possible reasons why Kiyoharu didn't receive his letter. He wasn't home to check his postbox to begin with.

Somehow the expressions on Kiyoharu's face...no matter how guarded they were from the general public, Inaba didn't miss a single detail. He saw how thoroughly fed-up his friend was with work, how sick and tired the image upkeep made him. He saw the spark dying down in those pretty grey-brown jewels and how the soul and the spirit slowly diminished along with passing time.

"You should join my meditation classes sometime."

Inaba suggested with a soft chuckle. He turned his head to look at the empty desk. His empty desk, before turning his full attention back to his friend and now-colleague.

"I've been good. Better now since stepping in here. Beautiful place. I love it. Can't wait to start decorating my desk."

Said lightly in that sweet melodious voice of his. Recently Inaba had been a permanent fixture on TV, what with his best friend and band-leader recently winning an award and the release of their Blue-Ray DVDs. Kiyoharu would know the gentle Inaba's loathing for being on screen, and that was obvious by the slight shade of grey under his marbled eyes.

"...I know what you're thinking. Let's not go there Mori. Haha."

Inaba quickly waved it off with a sheepish smile and a palm to his face, hiding his embarrassment and the proof of his sleepless nights.

"I don't know how Takkun does it."

Even after 20 plus years, he still can't get used to being on TV. Remembering the many times he screwed up terribly on Music Station, on the News even, and etc....and remembering too the few times Kiyoharu had to jump in and save him in several music variety show interviews.

"Did I screw up the New Year's special?"

He asked, voice slightly muffled from the fact that his tattooed hand was still covering up parts of his embarrassed face.

[Kiyoharu]

"Home hasn't been much of a home lately." When the divorce was settled, his wife had left the house they shared (not that he blamed her) and took their daughter with her and, while they shared custody of the child, his ex-wife had her most of the time. His home was too quite without the squeals of his daughter, the soft laughter of his ex-wife and the constant sounds of life. If he had known this was what would happen, he never would have cheated.

"You are right though," He added with a soft smile. "I haven't been back there in a while." It would be wise of him to start forwarding mail to the apartment he lived in now. That way, he would get anything for friends (like Inaba) that didn't have his new address.

With the way those sharp, kind dark eyes looked him over, it wouldn't be a surprise to Kiyoharu if Inaba had figured it out all ready. As polite and shy as the man was, he wasn't stupid and Kiyoharu would bet anything Inaba had already figured him out, had seen right through the facade he put up.

Casting a grin, he shifted, crossing his legs and titled his head slightly to the side. "Glad to be out of the spot light?"

It was easy to see Inaba's uneasy in front of a camera. He could remember the times he had to jump in and save the man during a few music shows. He, himself had no problem with being on t.v, in fact he sometimes enjoyed it, even going far as to tease fans in subtle ways that they always seemed to pick up on.

Just as he was about to mention something about it, Inaba beat him to it. Chuckling softly, he leaned forward, gently cupping his old friend's face and titling it this way and that so that he could examine him. He didn't like the slight bags under Inaba's gentle, sharp eyes and he clicked his tongue, letting his friend go with a playful tap to his nose.

"You didn't," He soothed. "But you should get some rest. Those bags under your eyes are most unattractive." He teased softly, a gentle grin on his lips.

[Inaba Koshi]

"As is the rest of me."

This was said humbly in response to Kiyoharu's mention of unattractiveness. Inaba smiled however, his set of perfect pearly white teeth pretty much contradicting his previous statement.

"I think I'm only able to sleep when I'm at a state beyond exhaustion. Like when I can't feel or see anything anymore and then I would just pass out on the rug."

Yes, Kiyoharu. Rug. Poor Inaba hardly made it to the bed nowadays. His insomnia had been an on-and-off thing, hitting him at times that he would claim was utterly random. But people who knew him knew better. Such bouts came when he had too much on his plate...or too little. Then the man's thinking processes will kick in and he'd be doing so much that even Tak would have to physically step in and put a stop to everything.

Which inadvertently would work for the next day or so, and then the man would stubbornly refuse to sleep again.

Kiyoharu's palm was a welcome touch however and Inaba found himself smiling as he relaxed in his friend's hand. Those reflective orbs squeezed shut at the playful tap, then they opened again to rest affectionately on the other's.

"I can't begin to describe my elation on that. Truly. One more show and I think I will really die."

Inaba had both hands up to hide his face now, smiling despite his own embarrassment and he tried to rub his blush off with those palms.

"So where are you staying now?"

A change of subject was always the smartest move. Go Inabaka!

"You haven't been eating well."

Or faring well, for that matter. That was a given with the recent divorce, the news he had gotten personally from a phone call one wintry night. Inaba was still in the States then, but he had pushed aside the current recordings to listen to everything Kiyoharu had belted out at that time.

Inaba's eyes met Kiyoharu's for a quiet moment. Then he smiled softly.

"I know how to make chicken sukiyaki now."

It was a project that they had both indulged in many years ago, due to a little private joke about the beef in mirin. Unfortunately, this endeavor had consistently failed with horrible-tasting outcomes or inappropriate cuts of chicken and unsuitable vegetables. It was also a project that they somewhat abandoned due to far busier schedules.

Now he brought it up in his own discreet way of saying that he hasn't forgotten, and that he was more than willing to cook for the other. Preferrably sometime soon.

[Kiyoharu]

"Yes," He teased again, smiling fondly. "You are most unattractive. Those legions of fans just scream for you talent is all." Which was true in a sense. Inaba was a talented man, he wouldn't be where he was if he wasn't. It wasn't only his talent that carried him this far, it was his looks as well. His friend was an attractive man despite Kiyoharu's tease and Inaba's own words.

Rolling his eyes, he was tempted to take out a cigarette but, he knew what would happen if he did. Inaba was never found of that habit of his and tended to lecture him when ever he caught sight of one on him thus, Kiyoharu didn't smoke around Inaba. He even made sure Inaba was no where near him when he took one out of the pack.

"That's rather unhealthy." He chided softly. It would be a bit hypocritical of him to chide Inaba for the same thing he did. It didn't matter that he hadn't done it since he left the music scene, he still had done it. "You lecture me about my smoking all the time friend. The tables have turn." Not that he was truly going to lecture Inaba, he never had it in him to truly scold the kind hearted man before him. "Try to sleep tonight and if you can't well, I'm sure I can find a way to help with that."

When Inaba blushed, Kiyoharu always enjoyed seeing it. The soft, pink color (deepening to a lush red depending on how embarrassed Inaba was) dusted across those cheeks and gave him a boyish look almost. Simply put, it was cute to see Inaba blush.

Allowing the subject to change, he grabbed a near by pen and paper and jotted down his address and handing it over to the other man. "Don't loose it now. I don't need any stalkers finding out where I live."

Leaning forward once again, he lightly trailed the tip of a finger under Inaba's right eye. "And you haven't been sleeping well."

Inaba was one of the few that knew everything. Kiyoharu had kept the divorce, the affair, everything under lock and key and only caved in and confided in the tender Inaba when it all became to much for him to handle on his own anymore. It was foolish of him to think that he would be able to deal with loosing a person who had been in his life, had shared his bed and gave him a child with a stoic facade, as if he didn't care he was loosing her and never getting her back.

The change in conversation may have seemed random to those few eavesdropping on them but, Kiyoharu had picked up on it. How could he not when it had been a private joke that ran between them for years? Softly laughing, he withdrew from Inaba, leaning back in the chair once again.

"Did you now?" He questioned softly, an amused smile caressing his lips. "You'll have to make it for me sometime." Which he knew Inaba would do without batting an eye.

[Inaba Koshi]

"I'm glad I still give them something to even remotely scream about."

Inaba replied with a chuckle.

"What? Sleeping on a rug? That's convenience at its best, Mori. That has absolutely nothing to do with unhealthiness. Your awful little habit, however...."

He teased right back in softer tones in an effort to be discreet, not wanting the rest of the staff members to eavesdrop and Inaba ended up leaning in to Kiyoharu a lot more than was actually necessary.

"I will try. Thank you, my dear. I really will. I hope I won't have to startle you tonight with a phonecall then."

At the closeness of the other, Kiyoharu could pick up the man's natural scent, a scent of morning dew and thyme, a sweet scent of fresh grass that brought to mind lush meadows and glowing mornings delicately touched with a sprig of lavander.

Inaba's gentle smile found itself upon his matured features once more after receiving that piece of scrap paper, folding it up and slipping it into the pockets of his denims.

"You just gave it to your biggest one."

And he held onto that finger after it was done with its tracing, taking the hand that came with it and gave that an affectionate squeeze, his dewy gaze sliding shut now whilst holding onto Kiyoharu's hand.

"It's really good to see you again."

He said with a voice full of emotion, grasping that hand in his own so tightly now. Through that one touch, the man's concern for his friend's welfare after the divorce came through, and it was only after a pause that Inaba spoke again.

"I visited her last week. They're fine. Your little girl's so pretty now. She's grown up so much, you know? She misses her father, asks when are you picking her up again."

[Kiyoharu]

A brow rose and Kiyoharu fondly shook his head. Really, the man was good looking, hell everyone in the industry was good looking and even if he wasn't, Inaba was a tender soul and very honest. It was easy to see what he felt because Inaba's face was an open book and Kiyoharu knew that even if the man didn't have those boyish looks, his fans, the media, everyone would still adore him.

"Even when you're older and crippled, you'll still give them something to scream about." And he didn't doubt that. Looks only got you so far despite popular belief. Without talent, you would fade and be eaten up by the dog eat dog world and Inaba (and Kiyoharu himself) was lucky to have both looks and talent.

Why was it that he knew somehow, someway his smoking was going to be brought up? Amusement gleaming in his gray hued eyes, he smiled softly, titling his head slightly to the side. "My bad habit is better then sleeping on an oh so unforgivable rug~"

Taking a breath, Kiyoharu picked up on Inaba's scent, something clean and sweet and perfectly Inaba. Scents were something he always enjoyed and when he was still married, he had enjoyed curling up with his ex-wife and burying his nose in her distinctive lemon and lavender scented hair. He never knew how she got her hair to smell like that, just how he never knew how Inaba could smell so sweet, so happy when Kiyoharu himself always smelt (or had been told he smelled) of chai and cigarettes.

"Well stalker~ You should know I wouldn't mind a call form you at random hours of the night." His teasing was soft, gentle, affectionate and truthful. He had gotten used to getting phone calls in the middle of night, wither they were from Inaba himself (times zones and sleepless nights weren't pleasant), his daughter or his label attempting to get him back, being woken in the middle of the night was something that ceased to make him grumpy any longer.

An almost worried frown formed at the thick emotion in Inaba's voice and the way his hand clutched his. For one split second, Kiyoharu was worried that there was something wrong with his friend and the words had formed, morphed on his tongue only to be chased away at what was so softly brought up. He didn't expect that and it took him a moment to gather himself because he had just talked to his daughter and she never mentioned wanting to see him.

Then again, there were things the child would never say to him why? He didn't know. Maybe it was a bit of his traits she picked up or her mother's or just Inaba's gentleness. Whatever it was, he had wished she had said something to him on the phone; he would have picked her up in a heartbeat.

"Not here," He murmured softly, bowing his head and leaning forward so that their foreheads affectionately bumped. Curling his fingers of the hand caught by Inaba's through the other vocalist's, Kiyoharu brought them to rest on his thighs and allowed his eyes to slip closed. "Please not here. Latter, when we are allow, okay?"

[Inaba Koshi]

"They're good rugs."

The older male defended playfully. Despite the vast number of times he had told the other off about smoking, somehow Inaba still adored the lingering scent of smoke and tea that Kiyoharu so characteristically had. It was a familiar smell that he had fallen in love with and was so uniquely Kiyoharu that no where else in the world had this scent. Of musk and smoky hues spiced with chai...occassionally with a hint of poppies, sometimes cinnamon. But he would tease anyway.

"You still smell like Hong Kong."

Well, that was the closest to smokes and tea that he could have, and Inaba always found himself missing his dear friend whenever visiting that country.

Their heads touched, conversation lowered to a mere whisper and minds connected just like that. Inaba nodded slightly, lifting his head to brush his soft lips over that brow, running gentle, elegant digits over those tousled hazelnut waves just as his hand tightened on that thigh.

He said nothing afterwards, pulling away to allow his friend some space though the look in his marbled gaze told the other that he'd be around for a chat later. There was a soft little encouraging smile that played upon his lips just for a moment, and then it was gone. Inaba turned back to his desk and started shuffling all the files and folders about quietly.

Later it shall be.


------------------------


After two lectures or so, the man's work was done for the day but he stayed around to wander about the campus and get more aquainted with the students, chatting with the cafeteria staff as well as the cleaners because he treated everyone in the same light. He had another hour to spare before his good friend would be finished with work, and the man took that opportunity to get to know everyone else that was part and parcel of the Academy infrastructure. He was good with names, memorising even the gardener's and his two pet dogs that were seen occasionally guarding the campus, spending another several minutes by the security office and introducing himself as part of the teaching faculty. The man was an immediate favourite amongst these often-forgotten people, and they tried their best to keep him longer for another chat but it was time.

Inaba promised to pop by again whenever he could and he excused himself to wait for a particular someone by a route he knew the other would be taking to head home. Indeed within minutes, he spied Kiyoharu stepping out of the west wing lobby. He stepped up to the other with hands in his pockets.

"Can I walk you home?"

Said with a sweet smile and a light dip of his tousled head.

[Kiyoharu]

Why did it hurt so much when she was brought up? Kiyoharu had done the deed, had slept with some not his ex-wife on a whim and she had found out and it was his unfaithfulness (even though it was just once) that finally broke her. She had put up with him through everything: his drug hazed days, his sleepless nights and withdrawal symptoms (the child -at the time- growing within her womb was worth it all), everything. He had pushed her to far, took her for granted and now, she was gone.

It still hurt. He still felt an ache, still felt naked without her ring upon his finger and what made it all even worse? Was the knowledge that it was all his fault. He loved her, loved her crooked smile and soft sienna hue of her eyes and the way her hair, a soft noir fell and gently waved around her delicate, rounded face. Kiyoharu was the one to break his poor wife's heart, it was all him and it was his burden to bare.

He was used to the constant dull ache that remained. There were times -like now- when it was worse, when he could vividly feel her absence. Seeking the comfort of physical touch, Kiyoharu almost pressed closer to Inaba, almost sunk to his knees and hid his face away within the man's toned stomach. He didn't though; he still had his pride and he wasn't going to break down in front of a room full of fellow staff members some of which, were far to nosy.

"Thank you," He whispered, giving a final squeeze to Inaba's hand and moving back, allowing the new teacher to mess around at his desk while he collected himself.

~8~

It was far easier then Kiyoharu had thought to gather himself, to put his mask back into place, to take on the role of lazy teacher. He was to good at pretending nothing was wrong, that he was okay and he lost himself in teaching because he knew that the moment he picked up a pen or a guitar, something melancholy would be the end result. He didn't want that because it would hint at his inner turmoil.

The day passed by in what seemed like a flash and he just simply couldn't remember what he told his classes. With a tired sigh, he ran a hand down the length of his face, leaning over a desk and bowing his head, once again collecting himself before he met up with Inaba again.

It was inevitable; they were drawn to each other like magnets and with the look he had last saw (kind, caring, I'm here for you), he knew that it would be sooner rather then latter that he ran into the man again. Taking a breath, he gathered up the few things he brought with him and left, intent on going home and just not dealing with anything at the moment.

Or course, as he had known, he would be seeing Inaba again and the smile that formed on his lips was more genuine then he thought it was going to be. "So," He drawled playfully. "My stalker wished to walk home with me? How mighty bold~"

[Inaba Koshi]

"I can try not to step on your shadow if you so prefer."

Returning the tease with the traditional japanese rule whenever a wife would walk with her husband, Inaba stepped into a companionable pace with his friend, holding an LGB leather duffel bag that carried quite a bit of equipment he had used for the day. With a hand in his denim pockets and the other swinging the duffel bag over a broad shoulder, Inaba offered Kiyoharu a stick of mint candy...a subtle way of preventing the other from smoking urges in his company.

Why was it that when they were walking together in this simple way, it soothed the past even as it keeps coming back up?

"You missed her birthday again, didn't you."

He chided softly, not wanting to bring up another topic that would make Kiyoharu unhappy but he felt that it was necessary. Inaba understood what it was like to miss a loved one's birthday. By all means, he had missed far too many of his own son's. And an elegant hand slid over Kiyoharu's own in a gentle brush, his touch reminding the other that he was real.

Only too real.

The sun had settled itself very much past the horizon, having thrown a series of orange hues across the skies, seperated by streaks and streaks of indigo and strong navy silhouettes that the trees and buildings in the far distance were creating.

"You should stop stalling and just go straight home to see them. It doesn't have to be a special occasion, you don't have to keep buying her gifts...just go home. And pick up my letters, while you're at it."

Inaba tried with a wry little smile of his own, feeling a similar ache sink into his chest at his own urges. He blamed it on his own situation with his enstranged family...and hoped that at least Kiyoharu would continue to keep trying to salvage whatever he had left.

[Kiyoharu]

If Kiyoharu could, he would be most annoyed with Inaba but, he couldn't There was just something about the gentle, caring man next to him that made it hard for Kiyoharu to get angry, to get annoyed and, he wished he could right about now, he truly did. All this mentioning of his ex-wife was just doing him no good after Inaba had managed to oh so easily crack his mask (which was something easy for the other man to do).

"No," He answered softly, allowing his lips to quirk into a faint smile. He hadn't miss her birthday or his daughter's. He never missed them or forgot them even now, a year and a half after his ex-wife was no longer in his life. Sometimes, he wished that was it, that he was simply upset with himself because he missed a person he still held dear to him birthday.

That wasn't it though. He missed her. he missed waking up to her soft curves pressed against him and lavender-lemon scented hair under his nose. He missed her laugh, the ways her smile scrunched up her face and made the faint wrinkles around her lips and eyes disappear. He even missed teasing her as she sang along to some pop song off key as she danced her way through the kitchen.

"I didn't miss her birthday." He didn't have it in him to come out and say he missed her, not now at least. It had to be obvious to Inaba's kind eyes though. One wasn't married for a good fifteen years and just forget the person they were with, not when said person was still loved dearly.

Ignoring the offered candy, he took and unsteady breathe through his nose and glanced at the man next to him. Inaba knew everything, every dirty detail and there were times that Kiyoharu hated it. He knew the man was only doing what he thought was best, that he was helping but, he really wasn't. He was just bringing up a pain Kiyoharu simply wished to forget and move on from -if that was even possible.

"Please, lets drop this current topic." He asked softly, tucking his hands deep into his pockets and almost taking comfort in the cool metal of his lighter and the hard edge of his cigarette pack. "It's most unpleasant."

He couldn't go home. The house was empty, void of life that usually filled up it's soft powder blue walls. His ex-wife had left what was once home the second she had filed for divorce. Kiyoharu could still remember the day he came home from the studio to see her with her bags packed and by her side, their daughter in her room as the harsh news was silently broken upon him with the simple, brown envelope he was given.

[Inaba Koshi]

The emotions running through Kiyoharu's eyes...he picked up each and every single one of them, thread by thread...strand after strand, piecing it all back together again in his mind's eye to create an embroidery of the past, something he knew his good friend fought to keep behind lock and key, to hold onto whatever rags he had that was left and let it stay as that.

Torn.

Kiyoharu's refusal had Inaba pause in his footsteps, gripping onto the stick of mint candy so hard that it crumbled in his grasp. He turned abruptly to face the other, arms straightened out and marbled gaze clearing out to a steely look that pinned the other down.

"No, I don't want to drop it. Stop trying to avoid it!"

Inaba took hold of Kiyoharu's wrist, his grip surprisingly biting down into pale porcelain skin.

"You still love her!"

He started, feeling pain shoot through his own chest upon hearing himself say so. It was almost as if, as if he was trying hard to convince himself as well.

"Please!"

The many times he had incessantly tried to talk to Kiyoharu about, getting brushed away time and time again with excuses like 'It's a bad time,' or 'I'm busy,' and things like 'Not now,' and 'I don't feel like it.'

"How long more are you going to avoid her?"

Avoid me?

He didn't care that he was making a scene along the pathways. He didn't care that people were watching.

"....."

Inaba's grip on Kiyoharu's wrist tightened, and he pulled the other in the direction of his old house.

"Taxi!"