Chapter Text
“What are you going to send Aichi for his birthday, Toshiki Kai?’ Gaillard asked, with a sly side-eyed glance at his roommate. It was an innocuous question, but nothing was ever as simple as it should be between Kai and Gaillard.
Gaillard didn’t even bother to wait for an answer. He was lying on his stomach on the sofa in their apartment, flipping through a French men’s couture magazine, trying to choose the perfect gift.
Kai was glad he was engrossed in it enough to miss his visceral reaction to the mere sound of Aichi’s name. He had been thinking of him often (obsessively) over the past few weeks. Aichi had finally graduated high school in March, and Kai’s socials had been full of him. Aichi with his team, winning his last high school Vanguard Koshien. Aichi in his Miyagi uniform for the last time, carnation pinned to his lapel, holding his diploma and grinning for the camera. Aichi standing on a sakura-lined walkway with his mother and sister, petals in his azure hair. Aichi…
“What do you think? Would he appreciate this velvet cravat? Of course, I would have to present it in person to teach him the fine art of tying one’s cravat. If only he had accepted my invitation to stay with us this summer.” Gaillard sighed with exaggerated disappointment, then brought the magazine up to his nose to peer at it more closely. “Of course, I would myself look charmant in it, with its paisley print. I only own one other like it, but the paisley is larger."
Kai wondered if he had made the right decision, to stay in France for the summer. Paulette had been right, he was gaining a small but fierce following among Vanguard enthusiasts; his handsome aloofness and furious card play set him apart from others in the league. Although Kai wasn’t seeded high in the upcoming finals, he had been asked to a summer invitational and had accepted, and wouldn’t be back in Japan for the summer until late June. He momentarily lost himself in a daydream of the after-hours Card capital birthday party he would miss this year, wishing he had better appreciated the ones he had been in Japan for.
“Or maybe a bottle of the rosewater lotion I favor? It would brighten his complexion. Not that he needs it, certainemant. I should order myself a bottle, however. I am getting low.”
Kai let his head thump on the chair back and stared sightlessly at the chandelier. Aichi wouldn’t care about any of that expensive stuff. He would just want his friends around him, eating junk food, laughing, and playing Vanguard.
And Toshiki Kai, international traveler, and European League up-and-comer, felt a stab of homesick longing so strong, he sucked in an abrupt breath.
And Gaillard noticed. The magazine dropped, and Gaillard’s eyes narrowed. “What is wrong with you, Toshiki Kai? You look like a pauvre enfant perdu.”
“I am not a poor lost child,” Kai snarled, wincing immediately as he realized he had just inadvertently shown too much of himself.
Gaillard’s eyes widened, then narrowed speculatively. In the seven months since Kai had moved in with him, they had reached an uneasy truce, if not a friendship. Kai and Gaillard understood each other very well, although they pretended not to.
“I do not know why you do not just call him,” Gaillard muttered to himself, and Kai sat upright, shooting a startled look at his roommate as he continued in a louder voice.“You always have some excuse, do you not? Toshiki Kai, always the martyr.” Gaillard’s lips curled in a satisfied smirk, remembering what it felt like to burn him with his bluish flames the last time he had played the martyr. His lips soundlessly formed the word 'judgment', and he started humming a cheerful tune under his breath.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kai stammered, flushing. They had so far refused to speak of their similar feelings for Aichi by tacit agreement. And it was equally rare for either to speak gently to one another. It was tantamount to laying one’s throat bare to a predator. Kai’s hands gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Gaillard glanced at them pointedly, causing Kai to release his death grip, and he turned back to his magazine with a sniff. “Bon alors. It is just as well that the playing field is left open.”
“I’m going to bed,” Kai bit off, and retreated with the sound of Gaillard’s low chuckle burning in his ears.
*****************
A few weeks later, Kai let himself into the darkened apartment, phone cradled between his shoulder and ear as he maneuvered inside. He dropped his things, including his overstuffed tournament swag bag on the counter and collapsed into his favorite chair, utterly drained. He had bad-naturedly refused to go to Galliard’s victory party at Anton’s.
Miwa's nasal tones continued in righteous indignation. “I can’t believe that bastard won a car! A car! If he was insufferable before, Kai, I don’t know how you’re going to put up with him after this!”
“I know,” Kai ground out, scrubbing a tired hand over his face, letting his closest friend's aggravation wash over him like a soothing balm.
“Does that French bastard even know how to drive?”
“No,” Kai answered, feeling a glimmer of satisfaction. Galliard might’ve won the circuit this year, but at least Kai would get to watch him struggle through learning to drive. One corner of his mouth quirked up in anticipation.
“Kai, listen. You’ve got to beat him next year.”
“I know.” Kai was so tired he felt like he was becoming one with his chair.
“I mean, you owe him, right? You gotta do it for yourself. For Japan! And especially for the mates.” Miwa wound down and yawned audibly, just as tired from staying up all night at the Card Capital watch party. It was evening in France but early hours in Japan.
Kai froze at his words, exhaustion melting away, body thrumming with remembered tension from that time. That horrible time when Aichi disappeared, and only Kai remembered him, desperate to find him and bring him back to the light, where he should be. “How is he?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Oh, he’s happy for Galliard, you know Aichi. But he took it really hard when you lost your last match, buddy. He teared up and went to the bathroom. Do you want me to wake him up? I’m in the back room, but he’s out there sleeping on the floor with the rest of…”
“No!” Kai snarled, cutting him off.
Miwa was immune to his moods and chuckled easily. “All right, Kai. But you can’t wait forever. Tick tock tick tock. He's about to be surrounded by quality college boys who have you beat in the personality department, you know?”
“I gotta go,” Kai said shortly and jabbed at the end button. He dropped the phone in his lap and threw a forearm over his face as if he could hide from his own thoughts that way.
He’s leaving for college in America in three months. I’m not about to declare myself like some lovesick fool. Even if he wanted me, it could never work out. And it's not like I have anything to offer him.
Kai felt a cavernous pain in his chest, and he re-emerged from under the shelter of his arm, moving his hand down to press against it; the very picture of dejected, heartsick misery. With his free hand, he reached for his phone, swiping it back on and scrolling to the short list of unanswered texts Aichi had sent him over the past months. Kai had gone home for two nearly two months in January, but Aichi had already flown back to Yale and they had missed each other. For a long while there had been six texts. As of this morning, there were seven.
Good luck in France, Kai-kun! I am rooting for you!
Got a Dragonic Overlord SP in a pack today! I’ll save him for you.
Merry Christmas, Kai-kun! From Mom and Emi, too!
Happy New Year, Kai-kun!
We won the High School Koshien today. We are having a party to celebrate. Wish you were here!
Kai. I’ve been accepted to Yale. I’m leaving for America in early August. Are you coming home this summer?
Good luck in the finals today. I’m rooting for you!
“You never give up on me, do you?” Kai said softly, and in a ruthless bid to stop himself from finally sending a reply, he thumbed his phone off and went to take a shower.
*****************
Kai was right, watching Neve try to teach Galliard how to drive was comedic gold. Their usual place was the Père Lachaise Cemetery, a few blocks from the apartment. Kai had only been allowed to go with them once, his snorted laughter from the cramped backseat enflaming Galliard’s righteous anger to new heights and getting him kicked out and relegated to walk home alone.
Today Kai was in high spirits, having watched Galliard attempt to learn parallel parking on the street below their apartment. He had enjoyed one full hour of watching the silver Puegot jerk in tiny incremental stops to the melodic sound of Gaillard shouting French curse words. He was invisible to the pair as he sat on the balcony above. When Neve took over to park the car properly after Galliard slammed the door and stomped inside, Kai scrambled into the kitchen to look busy.
Galliard’s fiery temper had cooled just enough by the time he got upstairs to be interested in exploring what Kai was cooking, and he sidled up to the counter. He examined the array of ingredients Kai was laying out and wrinkled his nose, before catching the satisfied expression on Kai’s face, realizing immediately that he had been watching Galliard struggling with his lesson.
With a dark scowl, Galliard glanced at the clock and did a quick mental calculation. He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped open his contacts, putting the phone up to his ear, and hopping up onto the lone barstool they kept in the nook by the end of the counter.
Kai continued slicing his vegetables, still smiling to himself, until he heard Galliard’s side of the conversation, and his smile abruptly dropped away.
“Bonne soirée, Aichi. It is not too late to call, I am hoping?” Galliard grinned widely, sticking his tongue out at Kai like a toddler. Kai attempted to school his expression into nonchalance.
“I have been practicing driving with Neve,” Galliard announced proudly. “When you come to visit me someday, know that I will be able to retrieve you from the airport, mon ami.”
He listened for a few moments, and his smile slipped, his eyes sliding over to meet Kai’s. “Oh, yes, he is doing just fine, Aichi. But he cannot talk at the moment, as he is cooking again. Ratatouille, I believe.”
Kai finished slicing the eggplant and in the lapse of his knifework, he heard Aichi’s high, happy voice through Galliard’s phone and he grew still, leaning ever so slightly in Galliard’s direction.
Galliard’s smile reappeared and grew devious, and he pulled his phone away from his ear, tapping the screen. Aichi’s excited voice filled the room on speaker. “...oh, what’s that? It sounds so exotic!” His bright laugh filled the apartment.
“Aichi, I am putting you on speaker so I can help Kai with dinner. Say hello to Kai.”
That was a bald lie. Gaillard had never lifted a finger to ‘help with dinner’ and he sure as hell wasn’t doing it now.
“He— hello, Kai-kun.” Aichi sounded suddenly breathless and small, and Kai froze, with such a stark look of longing on his face, Gaillard’s grin dropped and he immediately looked ashamed. Kai dropped his knife with a clatter, whirled, and fled, striding to the door and slipping his feet into his shoes. He grabbed his jacket and keys from their hooks by the door. In one swift motion, he was gone.
“Kai?” Aichi asked a moment later, doubtfully. Gaillard took the phone off speaker, subdued.
“I… I, uh, am sorry Aichi. He had to run out suddenly to the store…”
*****************
Three days later, it was June 6th. A fact that Kai was very aware of during every single, blessed moment of the day. If he had made it back to Japan, he would’ve gone to Aichi’s birthday party at Card Capital with better grace than he used to. Maybe. He would’ve bought Aichi three of the newest booster packs and slipped them across the table to him after one of their Vanguard matches, as had been their tradition for each other’s birthdays the past few years.
But instead, he was still in France, not sure he had made the right choice, as he never was. Just as unsure as he had been about all of his actions for a few years now, and he felt deeply melancholic. He had been torn by indecision, not knowing if he should send something to Aichi for his birthday, or not. If he did, what would it be? Sending something through international mail wasn’t casual like handing over 500 yen worth of something that already surrounded you. And he was afraid that after nearly a year of distancing himself, any small thing he did would feel like a declaration. So he did nothing. Sent nothing. And he hated himself for it.
Kai kept busy that morning, knowing in the back of his mind that because of the time difference, Aichi’s birthday was slipping away ten thousand kilometers away in Japan. He went to the European League headquarters as soon as it opened, fighting match after match against all comers, training hard for the upcoming invitational.
Kai skipped lunch, stopping long enough for a canned coffee and a bag of chips from the machines. He felt grimly deserving of the hollow pit his insides became as the day ground on. His stomach growled incessantly by four o’clock, and he finally packed his cards away, knowing it was nearly midnight in Japan. He sighed heavily and checked his phone for the first time today.
There was a single text from Gaillard, half an hour before. Except for bare necessity, they hadn’t spoken to each other since Gaillard’s speaker phone stunt.
Meet me in the Megacolony lounge. It is important.
Kai changed direction wondering if he had missed a meeting or a memo or something. The Megacolony lounge was used as a private meeting space between players, as it was small, and always empty, partially because no one who was any good played Megacolony, and partly because the room had a broken handle that locked you in if you closed it all the way.
Kai pushed the half-open door warily, realizing Gaillard was talking on the phone. His eyes locked on Kai’s as he made his way over to an overstuffed beetle-shaped armchair and settled in it gratefully. He had been standing at a fight table for hours.
Gaillard stood and stretched, advancing on Kai.
“Yes. Well, I must be off, but it was very good talking to you.” Kai looked mildly alarmed as Gaillard stopped so close in front of his chair, their knees were touching. “But I do have one more gift for you. Kai is here and wants to talk to you. Joyeux Anniversarie, Aichi.”
Gaillard smiled faintly at Kai’s surprised expression and thrust his phone into Kai’s lax hand, his fingers covering the microphone. “It is his birthday. Talk to him, Toshiki Kai. I will return in an hour.”
And before Kai’s brain restarted, Gaillard was gone, the snick of the door signaling Kai was effectively a temporary prisoner in a locked room with the object of his unrequited love. Kai huffed a laugh, despite himself. Gaillard was an unpredictable, annoying, hotheaded bastard, but he dearly loved Aichi Sendou, and he had twin streaks of loyalty and chivalry a mile wide.
Kai shook his head ruefully, and took a deep breath, not knowing that this small moment of reconnection would reopen a constant line of communication between the two of them, Aichi and Kai. That although neither would declare themselves in their short time together that summer, they would afterward speak occasionally, and text frequently. That half a year from now, Kai would make the fateful decision to take a bus from Philadelphia to Connecticut on the American leg of a Vanguard tour, and it would spark the next phase of their relationship. And that they would be a couple for the rest of their lives.
He couldn’t know any of that, but he did know the boy he had loved for so long was waiting for him.
“Hi, Aichi,” Kai said softly and to his vast relief, his voice didn’t shake.
“Kai-kun,” Aichi said, in a voice so filled with joy Kai had to squeeze his eyes shut and take another deep breath before speaking again.
“Happy Birthday, Aichi.”