Chapter Text
Carpentry is a craft that Kei has known since he was twelve. His family come from a line of woodworkers; a revered profession in years gone by that now seems to have more novelty than charm. These days, people are more likely to go to a Swedish super store to buy their tables and chairs than to a local Japanese family who still make things by hand.
His grandfather was the one who taught him first; how to take a block of wood and carve it into an acorn. That was the first thing Kei ever made. Looking back, Kei thinks this was a deliberate choice. A metaphor for life, a lesson in where wood actually comes from. ‘Mighty oaks from little acorns grow.’ That’s what his grandfather had said.
Sure enough, Kei grew to be tall and strong and fluent with the ways of carpentry. He inherited his family’s workshop with his brother when their father died, which was much sooner than expected. In the wake of it, it seemed like the only thing to do; to look up when the bell over the door rang, to welcome the next customer and ask them what they could build for their home. It became a steady way of living, with method and dedication to keep him focused. It helped distract him from other things in life.
Most of the time.
“You won’t believe who came in this morning.” Akiteru beams like he has something wicked in his palm. Something that could knock Kei clean over with a feather, like the time he tried to make him hold a cicada. Kei eyes him suspiciously as he places his toolbox down on the counter.
“Was it someone famous?”
“Only to you and me.”
Kei has already lost interest, but he feigns. “Who, then?”
“It was Tadashi!”
Kei stills. He looks up to find Akiteru gleaming with joy.
“He wants us to fit out his kitchen!” He grins like an idiot. “Isn’t that something?”
Kei blinks, dumbfounded. “His kitchen?”
“Yeah!” Akiteru resumes the task of sweeping wood shavings off the floor. “Honestly, it was weird listening to him be all domestic, talking about kitchens and marriage and stuff. I still think of him as that toothy freckled kid who showed up at the house looking for you.”
Kei feels his throat constrict. Marriage. He’s still married, then.
“Actually, I think he was hoping to see you more than me.”
At that, Kei rolls his eyes. As if Tadashi would show up after all these years to see his older brother and not him.
“Did you tell him I was busy?”
“I told him you were out on a job.” The broom sends some curls of wood flying. “I said you’d go over there when you got back.”
Kei stares at him. “Over where? ”
Akiteru looks at him like he’s not making sense. “To his house. To measure for the fit out.”
“Are you– Fuck. Are you serious?” Kei leans both hands on the counter. “You actually agreed to take the job?”
“What’s your issue?” Akiteru frowns. “He’s your oldest friend and he needs new kitchen cabinets. Why would I say no?”
Kei swallows hard as he averts his gaze. Akiteru never knew. This is exactly why he never knew.
“I know you haven’t talked in a few years, but he came looking for you, Kei.” Akiteru sweeps the floor in a practised rhythm. “I think it would be good for you to reconnect with him.”
Kei feels a bitter resentment rise in his chest. He still doesn’t trust Akiteru’s judgement about what is and isn’t good for him. And this, of all things, will not be good for him.
“Either you go over there, or I do.” Akiteru shrugs. “But you know he’ll be disappointed if you don’t show up.”
Kei feels any resistance in him grow weak. It’s no use. Any time Tadashi calls, his heart makes the decision for him. That’s how it’s always been.
“Did he at least give you the address?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Akiteru points to the invoice sheet on the counter. “He wrote it down when he paid the deposit.”
Kei feels a heaviness in his stomach as he pulls the sheet towards him. There it is, in writing. The address that he never wanted to know; the house that Tadashi bought with his husband three years ago.
“Look, are you going or not?” Akiteru puts his hands on his hips, like their mother did when they were little. “Because either you go, or I call Mrs Sakamoto and tell her I can’t finish her stair bannister today.”
“I’ll go.” Kei frowns. Akiteru should know better than to ask.
“Good.” He scoops the wood shavings up with a kindling bag. “Tell me how it goes. And tell me how much wood you’ll need. Don’t forget to take the swatches.”
Kei sends him a look. Please get off my back.
“Right, sorry.” Akiteru’s shoulders hunch as he carries the kindling away. “Do what you need to do.”
Kei’s limbs feel heavy as he walks out to the flatbed truck. He's only carrying his tool belt and the invoice sheet, but still, he feels heavy.
Do what you need to do.
Kei did that three years ago when he RSVP’d ‘no’ to Tadashi's wedding. He did that when he ignored Tadashi's voicemails and text messages begging him to change his mind, begging for a reason why. The reason he eventually gave was that Akiteru was out of town and there was no one else to finish their work contracts. The reality is that he could have closed the workshop for half a day. Tadashi knew that much, and the lie got between them. The truth is that Kei didn't want to live out a nightmare where he stood by and watched his best friend marry someone else.
Someone who wasn't him.
He holds the invoice sheet between his thumb and the steering wheel, glancing down at Tadashi's handwriting now and then as he drives. It looks the same as when they were in school, perhaps slightly neater. Years of university and working in an office will do that to a person’s handwriting. Unlike Kei, whose scrawls only ever need to indicate the cutting point on a piece of wood.
It surprises Kei that the address for the house is in Miyagi. That means he stayed. For a while, Tadashi talked about moving away. Somewhere far like Tokyo, or somewhere near like Sendai. That's where he went to university. Kei didn't go. There didn't seem much point when he already had a skill he could use for work. Besides, it was the family business. It almost felt like it had been decided for him.
Tadashi wasn't bound by such things. He moved to Sendai, like a lot of their classmates did after graduation. He met new people and, to Kei's dismay, he fell in love. It never occurred to Kei that this was anything to blame Tadashi for. He's human. It must have been lonely moving to a new city without his friends. Knowing Tadashi, it made sense for him to latch onto a person he could trust. It's what he’d done with Kei after all, from the very first day they met.
Maybe that's why it hurt so much. That this other person became a permanent fix; that he chose to bind himself to someone who wasn't Kei. Kei couldn't accept it. He couldn't make space for it in his head.
So, he didn't. After staying away from the wedding, he stayed away entirely. It felt like the only thing to do. To his credit, Tadashi tried to stay in touch. He would send text messages just like when they were at school, about any silly thing that made him think of Kei.
Kei just… stopped replying.
It took him a while, but he acclimated to life without Tadashi. He focused on work. He taught himself new carving techniques. He started a new series of workshop classes so that tourists could learn how to carve acorns like he once had. Gradually, it all became a blur. Each day was much the same. In fact, time seemed to stop. He became stuck in this particular ebb of life and he didn't want or need to fight it.
The paper invoice in his hand might suggest that life has other ideas.
He pulls to a stop outside the house. An old house, with a stone base and timber eaves. Probably mid-century, if Kei had to guess. It's definitely the kind of house that Tadashi would choose. Not one of those cardboard new-builds in the housing estate. It makes sense that he would pick one like this; a charming, older house that was probably unloved when he first found it. It looks taken care of now, aside from the ivy that’s started to tangle around the porch. That won't be good for the structural integrity.
Kei lets out a sigh as he turns the engine off. He quickly does some maths. Today is a Saturday. That means Tadashi will be home, and most likely his husband. What was his name again? It started with an ‘S’. It has a ‘sh’ sound to it. For a brief moment, he feels an ounce of pride for having forgotten it. It means that he succeeded in putting it out of his mind. It quickly gets replaced with shame; shame for the fact that he put Tadashi's life in a box in the back of his mind with the intention of forgetting all about it. His younger self would have seethed over such an idea.
He throws the car door shut behind him and pulls his leather tool belt around his waist. It used to be his grandfather's. It can carry up to six tools, with a pouch for nails and three slots for pencils. Today, it only carries a tape measure, a notepad and the timber swatches that Akiteru nagged him about. He tugs his flannel shirt out so that it hangs loose over the belt, with the front open to his white t-shirt beneath. Part of him feels self conscious for not having considered what he was wearing before setting off in the truck, but it is what it is. He's here to do a job. It doesn't matter what he looks like. He runs a quick hand through his hair and straightens his glasses before walking up the garden path.
The garden itself looks a little overgrown. There are lots of plants that look as if they should be flowering about this time of year. Tadashi always did have a green thumb. He always wanted a house with a garden, Kei remembers that much. It strikes him as a little strange that the garden should be in a less than happy state, but again, he's not here to judge. He's here to build a kitchen. There's no need to over-complicate things.
When he reaches the house, he stands with his hands by his sides, staring at the door knocker. It's not that hard. Just knock on the door. Just talk to him.
He steels himself with a sharp breath in as he raps the knocker against the door. Rapid fire. One-two-three .
The door opens. Kei's heart floods.
“Tsukki!” Tadashi smiles, almost as brightly as Kei remembers. “It's so good to see you!”
Kei feels like an automaton. A robotic creature with strings and pulleys that don't know how to react to the situation in front of him. Tadashi throws his arms around his shoulders, hugging him hard enough to make him stagger slightly. He lets one hand grip the fabric of Tadashi's t-shirt.
“Hi, Yamaguchi.”
Tadashi pulls back enough to fill Kei’s vision with freckles. His brown eyes glisten and crinkle at the edges. Kei’s fingers grip the cotton tighter.
“I missed you.” Tadashi beams.
The words make Kei’s throat go tight. Tadashi’s too close to his face. He feels warm against his chest.
Kei takes a step back.
“How… How are you?” Tadashi asks, as his hands leave Kei's frame.
Kei blinks at the question. How on earth does he answer that?
“I’m fine.” He swallows. “How are you?”
Tadashi watches him for a moment before giving in to a snicker. “You’re as serious as ever. I’m good! I’m happy to see you!”
Kei nods, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Akiteru said you need a new kitchen.”
Tadashi stares at him with those inquisitive brown eyes. Kei always felt like they could see more than he let on. He folds his arms and lets out a sigh.
“Really? You’re done with the small talk already?”
Kei looks down at Tadashi’s feet. He’s wearing slippers.
“Fine. Yes, I need a new kitchen.” Tadashi waves him into the house. “Come with me.”
Kei tries to breathe steadily as they step into the hallway. It doesn’t do much to quell the nausea in his chest. The door closes behind him, darkening the hallway. Kei looks up to see photo frames hung on the wall, some in colour, some black and white. Some from the wedding he avoided three years ago.
He pauses at one photo in particular. Tadashi and… whatever his name was… standing beneath a maple tree in their suits and smiling at each other as if they didn’t even know they were having their picture taken.
Kei looks away.
“Sorry about the mess,” Tadashi calls over his shoulder as they walk through to the back of the house. “To be honest, it was kind of an impulsive decision to stop by your workshop and order a kitchen.”
Kei raises his eyebrows. “Wait, really?”
“Really.” Tadashi grins as they enter the kitchen itself. “I was driving by and saw the hanging sign outside your place and… I dunno. It just came over me.”
Kei leans against the doorframe to the kitchen, just to give Tadashi space. He watches him lift a stack of plates into the sink and drop some take-out containers in the bin.
“Don’t get me wrong, we do need a new kitchen.” He gestures at the bare-bone shelving on the walls. “To be honest, I should have asked you about it years ago. Want a pop tart?”
Kei stares at him as his brain struggles to catch up. This is a lot. After three years of not talking, the idea of eating pop tarts in Tadashi’s kitchen… It's a lot.
It’s also like a dream.
He clears his throat and steps into the room. “Have you got strawberry ones?”
Tadashi breaks into a smile. “Of course I do, Tsukki.”
Kei feels his shoulders relax as the familiar sound of pop tart foil crinkles between Tadashi’s fingers. It’s one of the habits they formed together in high school, eating pop tarts on the floor of Tadashi’s room while they did their homework. Or played Zelda. Perhaps this is Tadashi’s way of breaking the ice between them. Ice that never should have formed.
“I’m going to make a contingency clause for this pop tart,” Tadashi says, licking some icing off his finger as he pops the toaster down.
Kei feels a smile threaten to pull at his lips. “Oh, really?”
“Mm.” Tadashi folds his arms, leaning against the countertop as the toaster hums. “You don’t get this pop tart until you tell me how you’ve actually been in the last three years.”
A thick, guilty feeling makes its way down to Kei’s feet like molasses. This is only fair, he thinks. He pushed Tadashi away with no real explanation.
But he still can’t tell him the truth.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
Tadashi’s expression changes from mischief to worry. His eyes dilate and his eyebrows draw together and he looks at Kei like he has the power to break his heart. Which, of course, he doesn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Kei repeats, looking down at his feet. “You moved away, and… you got married… and I didn’t know how to fit in with that. So… I stopped trying. And I’m sorry.”
He looks up to find Tadashi’s eyes half-filled with tears. He always did cry easily.
The toaster pops, and it makes Tadashi jump. He swipes his eyes quickly as he lifts one out onto a plate. “Well.” He sniffs. “That answer deserves a pop tart.”
Kei steps forward to take the plate from him. For the first time today, he feels himself smile.
“Thanks.”
Tadashi gives a solemn nod before biting into his own pop tart. Kei follows suit, watching him crunch as the nostalgic flavour coats his tongue. It tastes like icing sugar and calculus problems.
Tadashi eyes him for a moment before looking down at his plate. “I had a feeling it was something to do with Shin.”
Kei swallows without chewing properly as the name rings a bell in his head. That’s who Tadashi married. Shin. Shinji. Shinjirou.
“You never liked him much, huh?” Tadashi tips his head.
Kei turns to lean against the counter beside him. “It doesn’t matter if I like him.” He frowns. “He’s your husband. That’s what counts.”
He hears Tadashi let out a sigh. “It does matter, Tsukki. You’re a good judge of character.”
Kei blinks down at him. “What does that mean?”
Tadashi glances up like he’s been caught off-guard. He frowns lightly, with a shake of his head. “Means nothing. Just that I wish you’d been honest with me. Instead of disappearing.”
Kei’s heart sears in his chest. “Yeah…” He looks down. “Me too.”
As the room falls quiet between them, Kei casts his attention to the nearest thing that isn’t Tadashi.
“Wow, your countertops are ugly.”
Tadashi throws his head back in a riotous laugh. “I know! I wasn’t making it up!”
“Seriously.” Kei grins as he runs a hand over the polished surface. “Who would pick granite that was this colour?”
“I don’t even know what to call it.” Tadashi laughs. “Moss green. With a hint of mould.”
“Gross.”
“Tsukki, you have to help me get rid of it.”
Kei welcomes the familiar territory. He puts his plate down and pulls out his measuring tape.
“Do you like having them in this configuration?” he asks, stretching the tape over the depth of a nearby countertop.
Tadashi puffs out his cheeks as he looks around. “I’m not sure. Is there a better way to do it?”
“Yeah.” Kei blinks.
Tadashi just laughs. “Okay, wise guy, how would you do it?”
“Well…” Kei hooks the measuring tape on the back of a countertop, pulling it across the width of the kitchen. “You have enough space to do an island counter, if you want.”
Tadashi’s eyes brighten when he looks up. “Ooh! Like a breakfast bar?”
“Sure.” Kei shrugs. “Your counters are quite deep right now. I could make some that are slimmer so you have room for one in the middle. You could use it for chopping and meal prep and stuff.”
“And breakfast.” Tadashi grins.
Kei smiles at the memory of a sleepover when Tadashi ate pancakes like there was no tomorrow. “Yeah. And breakfast.”
“Can you make cabinets as well?” Tadashi gestures at the shelves. “These are hopeless. They always look a mess.”
“I can make cabinets.” Kei smiles.
Tadashi grins like he’s being granted three wishes, or as many as Kei can make true.
“Oh, but…” Tadashi looks down at the mossy granite. “How would we get rid of this stuff? Should I hire a builder?”
“What, you don’t think I could do it?” Kei raises an eyebrow.
Tadashi turns pink, rather unexpectedly. “I– No! That’s not what I–”
“I do this all the time, Yamaguchi. It’s literally my job.”
“Okay, okay!” Tadashi laughs as he raises his hands in defeat. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just didn’t want to assume.”
Kei looks down at the tape measure in his hand. It’s been a while since he made him fluster like that.
“It’s okay.” He reels the tape measure back in. “We know a stonemason who can take the counter and crush it down into terrazzo. So. It doesn’t go to waste.”
He looks up to see Tadashi gazing at him, like he did when they were little. “That’s really cool, Tsukki.”
Kei sighs. Just like when they were little.
“So, when do you want me to start?”
Tadashi hugs his own waist. “Um… Now?”
“Like, right now?” Kei grins.
“Right this very instant!” Tadashi matches his smile.
Kei laughs. “Sure. So demanding.”
“Hey, I’m a paying customer, Tsukki. You should treat me with respect.”
“Of course.” Kei bows lightly. “I’m at your humble service.”
“Okay, never mind.” Tadashi waves his hands. “Just go back to the friend thing. It’s too weird.”
Kei feels the laughter dim in his chest. Back to the friend thing. Of course.
“Well.” He pulls out his notepad. “Let me get the overall dimensions so I can start drawing things up. I’ll do some layout designs so you can pick one you like. Oh.” He pulls the timber swatch off his belt and holds it out for Tadashi to take. “These are the kinds of wood we normally use. You can pick one.”
Tadashi looks at him, wide-eyed, before taking the swatch with both hands. “Just one, huh?”
“Uh… Ideally.” Kei rubs his neck. “You can pick more than one if you want.”
“Tsukki, I was kidding.”
“Oh.”
He watches Tadashi flip through the different wood palettes before turning his attention back to measuring. It’s not so hard. Being around Tadashi… It’s not as hard as he thought it would be.
“The hinoki is nice,” he hears Tadashi say.
“Yeah.” Kei pulls the tape across the length of the kitchen floor. “That’s a popular one.”
“Which one do you think would work best?”
“That depends.” Kei writes down a dimension. “Would you like them to be painted or not?”
He looks up when Tadashi doesn’t answer. He shrugs before looking down at the swatches again.
“What would you do?”
Kei hesitates. It’s not about what he would do. It’s Tadashi’s kitchen.
But since he asked…
“I… prefer it when the timber is left exposed. Without paint.” He runs the tape measure from the floor to the ceiling. “We always work with the grain and the patterns in the wood. It helps us to cut it in the right place so that it stays strong. When you build them like that, they look beautiful. I think it’s a shame to cover them with paint.”
He looks over again to see Tadashi watching him with curiosity in his eyes. “That sounds lovely.” He smiles.
Kei shrugs as he writes down the measurement. “It’s your kitchen. You decide.”
Tadashi thinks for a moment. “Which of these woods would look best without paint?”
Kei looks up from his notepad, tapping his pencil against the paper as he thinks. “Well, you’ve got good natural light in here. If you used the kōyamaki it would make the room look even brighter, since it’s almost white. And it’s water resistant, so it’s good for cabinets. I’d probably use a different wood for the countertop though, so it wouldn’t stain. The kiri might work for that.”
He watches Tadashi hold the two swatches side by side. “I trust you.” He smiles. “They look good to me.”
Kei nods as he looks back at his notepad. “Good. Okay, then.”
He feels Tadashi’s gaze on him once more. He used to welcome it. He still does. But it’s different now that he belongs to someone else.
He focuses on drawing a thumbnail sketch of the floorplan. “I’ll head back to the workshop and draw something up. Maybe come back tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Tadashi says, quietly.
Kei turns to count the number of cabinet doors. “And I won’t start knocking any of these out until you’re happy with the design. So, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
He nods as he hears Tadashi’s slippers pad across the tiled floor. “Good.”
Tadashi seems to stand behind him for a moment, perhaps to look at what he’s drawing. Kei doesn’t look. But his heart jolts when he feels a familiar weight between his shoulder blades.
Tadashi leans his forehead against him. “I'm sorry, Tsukki.”
Kei's heart threatens to beat through his shirt. “… Why?”
“Because.” Tadashi dips against him. “I made you feel like you didn't fit.”
The room around them falls quiet. Kei finds himself fighting a sting in his eyes. He pushed Tadashi away, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Tadashi met someone else, but Kei didn’t get replaced. He left, and it created a void that both of them felt.
How does he make up for that?
A sudden clatter in the hall makes Tadashi jump back a step. Kei spins around to see the alarm on his face.
“What is it?” he asks.
Tadashi opens his mouth to explain, but the sound of keys meeting a ceramic bowl pulls his attention away. The cadence of the footsteps in the hallway seems to sharpen his anxiety.
Shinjirou walks into the kitchen, stopping as if he hadn’t expected to see anyone. Kei’s stomach knots at the sight of him. The man whose existence he tried to forget is now blatantly glaring at him.
“Who’s this?”
Kei’s thought process lags as his memory restores. Shinjirou. Tadashi’s roommate at university. Tall, but not as tall as Kei. Dark haired. Athletic.
And apparently in a very bad mood.
“Tsukki,” Tadashi answers him, flatly. “Friend from school.”
Kei’s heart cracks at the understatement, but he’s too distracted to dwell on it.
“Really?” Shinjirou aims his glare at Tadashi. “You invited him over today? Of all days.”
Tadashi hugs his waist as he leans against the counter. His eyes are downcast. Somehow, Kei feels like he has to fill the silence.
“I’m um… just measuring for the kitchen fit out. I’ll be out of here in a minute.”
Shinjirou’s eyes widen at the words. He looks back at Tadashi. “Oh. A new kitchen. Nice. Are you serious?”
“Why not?” Tadashi looks down at his feet. “You said I could have the house.”
Kei's heart drops into his boots. He looks over to see a stony expression on Tadashi’s face. One that he doesn’t recognise.
“That’s a really shitty move, Tadashi.” Shinjirou aims a look of disgust at Kei on his way out of the room.
“It’s my house, Shin.”
“Yeah, you’ve made that really fucking clear.”
Shinjirou storms out into the hallway and up the stairs. “Where is it?” he demands.
Kei jolts as Tadashi walks past him, his movements sharp and cold. “By the bed,” he calls from the bottom of the stairs. “Just take the bag and go.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Kei hears from upstairs. “This isn’t everything. What about my vinyls?”
“Get them some other time.”
“They’re my vinyls, for fucks sake.”
“I don’t give a shit, get out, Shin.”
Kei steps cautiously towards the hallway, as Shinjirou’s feet clatter carelessly down the stairs.
“You can’t keep fucking everything, Tadashi.”
“Get out.”
“Fine. You win.”
Kei holds himself back in the doorway. He watches Shinjirou open the front door, a heavily loaded duffel bag in one hand. He looks over his shoulder to glare at Tadashi once more.
“Happy fucking anniversary.”
Kei flinches as he throws the door against the wall, not bothering to close it behind him. He storms down the path through the neglected garden, to a car that still has the engine running. Once the car pulls away, Tadashi steps cautiously towards the door. Kei watches him close it with a shaking hand.
He stands there for a few seconds, facing the closed door.
“So…” He trembles. “Remember earlier… When you asked me how I am?”
He turns to look at Kei over his shoulder, his eyes filled with tears.
“I wasn’t… totally honest with you.”