27 Better Late than Never

He sat up in bed with a pounding headache and a parched throat.

Panic seized Takumi when he remembered the details of the night before. His memory was foggy but the moments which mattered were crystal clear.

Then he saw a note on the bedstand.

'Food is on the table. Drink water. Back soon.'

He knew the handwriting by sight.

Panic settled into an odd calmness. Takumi forced himself to climb out of bed and headed outside.

There was indeed food on the table. He lifted the covers to see soup and rice.

A bottled water served as a reminder.

His phone was on the table as well. Takumi was surprised to see no screaming messages from Nishioka or Ogita.

Instead, Nishioka's message simply read, 'Hasegawa said that you're not feeling well. We'll take care of the schedule. Rest.'

Takumi finally noticed the clean pajamas which he was wearing. He recalled belatedly that he woke up being safely tucked in his own bed.

Of course. Akira had taken care of everything. He looked after Takumi. Each and everytime. Never wavering, never failing.

Takumi wanted to cry. But he must have wept his reserve of tears last night because his eyes were painfully dry.

He gulped down the water from the bottle and sat down listlessly. Before he knew it, the plate and bowl were empty.

He even mustered enough energy to wash the dishes and take a shower.

Takumi didn't want to think and perversely, the terrible hangover was helpful.

But when he finally sat on the couch, he couldn't avoid the reality anymore.

Takumi hugged his knees tightly to avoid his hands from trembling. Droplets from his hair hung onto his cheeks.

He should face the situation and not run away.

Should he tell Akira to forget everything? Pretend that it was all a dream?

Or he should finish what he started? His confession was lurid as it was. Nothing could be as bad.

There was a tiny part of him which still fantasized that Akira would come to his senses and realize that no matter how perfect the heiress or how imperfect Takumi was, no one would love him as fiercely as Takumi did.

He was sure. Anyone who loved Akira more did not exist.

"Idiot," Takumi whispered.

He jumped when the door opened.

Akira came in, carrying what seemed to be bags of groceries. He stopped when he saw Takumi.

"I'll put these away first."

Takumi wanted to disappear.

Instead, he didn't move an inch. He was afraid once he broke the silence, Akira would tell him that they would always be the best of friends.

Or worse, apologize for not being able to return his feelings.

Akira returned to the living room in a beat.

"Takumi-" he began.

Takumi changed his mind. He stood up and made a run for his bedroom.

However, Akira was faster and caught him halfway.

Before Takumi could react, Akira had enveloped his shoulders from behind.

"Wait. Just wait. Please."

The plea in Akira's tone and his embrace broke Takumi's resolve. He stopped struggling.

The last time Akira held him like this, Takumi was close to committing self-mutilation and drowning in his own screams.

This time, he could hear Akira's voice next to his right ear. Quiet and firm.

"You know, we've known each other for eleven years."

"Eleven and a half," Takumi corrected numbly.

"You're right," Akira said and Takumi could feel a smile on his lips, even though they were not facing each other.

Then regret clouded the next words.

"You're also right that I'm an idiot. All these years. I should have realized it sooner. I don't have a good reason. I suppose I thought that you were out of my reach. Or that I was simply a coward. I am sorry."

Everything stopped for Takumi. His heartbeat. His brain. The air around him seemed still.

Hope was a frightening thing.

"W-what do you mean?" he managed.

Akira released his hold slowly and guided his shoulders around carefully.

Once they faced each other, Takumi couldn't help but looked at him.

There was a hand caressing his face now. A thumb grazing over his cheekbone. Those eyes watching him so intently and Takumi wished that Akira would look at him that way forever.

"I mean that I love you."

He gripped onto Akira's arms or else he would collapse. His eyes, so dry until now, suddenly felt wet.

"You love me," he repeated as if in a trance.

"Yes."

A monosyllabic affirmation but the depth and gravity in Akira's voice and expression carried the weight of its meaning.

"You're so fucking late," Takumi whispered, almost hissed, the first words which came to his mind.

"I know." Akira was solemn and fierce. "I will make it up to you. I promise."

"But I thought...I-I can't believe this," Takumi stammered, as the reality of Akira's words sunk in. He didn't know how to describe his emotions. A ridiculous mix of euphoria and disbelief?

Akira wouldn't have it. "Believe this. And us."

Us. What a wonderful word.

Takumi let out a breath he was holding.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. As if they were really seeing each other for the first time. Takumi would never forget it.

Time stood still and flew as Akira inched their faces closer.

When Akira's lips claimed his, another word came to his mind.

Finally.