Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Minako!”

Koutarou flinches. It might be his legal name, but he hasn’t identified with it for a long time. He shuts his laptop, shoving it into its case before standing and hurrying into his father’s office. He bows deeply.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

His father looks up briefly from his paperwork. Were Koutarou born a boy, he would be the spitting image of his father, straight down to the two-tone hair they share. But where Koutarou does his best to smile as much as possible, the elder Bokuto rarely smiles at all. Koutarou tries not to think about why that might be.

“You’re in jeans again,” he observes before going back to his papers.

Koutarou swallows and tries not to rub his palms against his thighs. His mother hates that particular nervous tic. “Yes.”

“If you insist on wearing them, at least wear something more form-fitting. You look ill-tailored. It reflects badly on the Bokuto name.”

Most of what Koutarou does seems to reflect badly on the Bokuto name. He takes a deep breath and tries to settle himself.

“Baggy jeans are in right now,” he fibs.

His father only grunts. “The date is set for six weeks from Saturday.”

Koutarou runs over the events he’s been told he has to attend lately. His calendar app is brimming with things he’s supposed to put in an appearance at, sorted by color (red is ‘miss at risk of being disowned’, green is ‘you can probably get away with skipping’, blue is ‘check in with your mother about your father’s mood before you decide whether you’re going or not’). But he can’t think of anything that didn’t yet have a date set in stone.

“Sorry,” he says meekly. “Did something get rescheduled?”

His father sets down his pen and meets his eyes for the first time. “Your wedding, Minako. You’re getting married six weeks from Saturday.”

Koutarou suddenly forgets how to breathe. He knew his parents were tossing around the idea of an arranged marriage since Koutarou was approaching twenty-five and had yet to settle down, but he didn’t think they had decided on anything yet. Apparently he’d thought wrong.

“Wedding,” he repeats, his voice faint.

His father blinks. “That’s what I said, yes.”

The weight that Koutarou carries on his shoulders feels infinitely heavier than usual. But there’s no use in fighting his father. Once he’s decided on something, that’s that.

He just doesn’t know how he’ll tell Tetsurou and Red.

“Who...who am I engaged to?” he whispers.

For a moment, he thinks his father is angry. His brows furrow and he opens his mouth to say something, but then he shakes his head and picks up his pen again. “Akaashi Keiji,” he replies, no longer paying Koutarou any mind. “The only son of Akaashi Ukyou, the CEO of Red Rabbit, Inc. A small but successful company that will be merged with Bokuto Enterprises upon your marriage.”

Koutarou closes his eyes and wills the tears that are beginning to build up not to spill over onto his cheeks. “So this is a business move,” he mumbles.

His father looks up sharply. “Do you defy me?”

Koutarou wants to. Oh, how he wants to. The angry words burn on the tip of his tongue, desperate to be screamed from his mouth. But he clamps down on them. Shakes his head.

His father grunts again and looks down at the desk, at the endless stack of work he always seems to have there. “Good.”

It takes a minute for Koutarou to regather himself. His father hasn’t outright dismissed him, perhaps expecting more of a fight, but Koutarou hasn’t got any fight in him. All he can do is let the roof of his mouth be singed with the ashes of his temper. When it passes, he speaks again.

“Is that all?”

“You’ll meet him here tomorrow afternoon. One o’clock sharp. Don’t wear baggy jeans.”

Tomorrow. Koutarou’s heart aches. “Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Koutarou hightails it out of the office and over to the elevator, barely managing to get out a goodbye for Mira-san at the front desk as he whizzes past. Once the doors finally close, he collapses against the wall and sinks to the floor. 

There’s nothing he can do but take what he’s been dealt. He can’t run, can’t hide from the power his father’s always held over him. His youngest—well. He isn’t anyone’s daughter, except in the eyes of his parents. The rebel, the one who’s always out of line. His elder sisters both married rich, but they’re happy. That’s something Koutarou can’t ever see himself being. Not if he’s going to be trapped in a marriage with someone who thinks he’s something he’s not.

He slips his phone out of his pocket. He has several messages from his mother, all on the subject of the wedding. He’s certain he’ll just end up saying yes to whatever she wants. It’s not like it matters to him anyway. He loves her, but she doesn’t know him at all, not really. He scrolls past all of them to open his messages with Tetsurou and Red. They’d both been online earlier, it seems, because he’s missed some banter between the two of them, but neither of them have a green mark by their name now. He could message one of them, either of them, and let them know that he’s hurting, that he needs them.

But he can’t give them the details of his personal life, and he can’t explain all of this without clueing them in. He’d be putting the sacred Bokuto name at risk.

Sometimes he resents his family name even more than he resents his given name.

In the end, he pockets his phone without saying anything at all. If he doesn’t tell them, he can pretend it’s not real, at least for a little while longer. At least while he’s with them, he can be himself—wholly himself, not the version of himself that he presents to his parents to try to keep them happy.

Maybe once he’s married, they’ll back off a little bit. Maybe once he’s married, he’ll find a way to live a life that makes him and his new husband happy. A compromise.

He sighs as the elevator slows, standing despite the heaviness in his bones. It’s not likely, that compromise. But he’ll do whatever he can to make it work.

He’s going to have to give this Akaashi Keiji a chance.

***

In the safety of his bed, Koutarou pulls his knees up to his chest and hugs them tightly, waiting for Red and Tetsurou to appear online. He’d run on the treadmill for an hour, trying to outrun the anxious thoughts that plagued him. His body is a little more tired, even if his brain isn’t, so he’s settled in and poking at a game of Mystery Monsters on his phone while he waits. The game is how they’d met; they’d been placed randomly in a match together two years prior, and they’d played together so well that Koutarou had begged for their Discord names so they could play another round sometime. Chatting about the game had led to just regular chatting, and then friendship had grown between them. Koutarou isn’t sure how he lived without either of them before, but he’s grateful for them now. More than grateful. They’re his closest friends in the world and the only two people who know he’s trans—well, Tetsurou has told his husband, Daichi, but other than that they’re the only two. 

And he hasn’t gotten to tell them his new name yet. A little shiver of anticipation, the first happy one he’s felt all day, makes his stomach do a flip.

Tetsurou appears online first. Although he lives in San Francisco, he works as a blackjack dealer at a casino and keeps odd hours. It works out for him, since his husband is a firefighter and also sometimes works night shifts. Red lives somewhere in Japan, although Koutarou has never asked exactly where. If he’s not going to offer details from his own personal life, he can hardly expect Red to share his.

Tetsu and Koutarou message back and forth a few times before Red’s name shows up online as well. Koutarou immediately flips over to their group chat.

OWLBOY45: hi red!!!!!!!
OWLBOY45: i have great news!!!!!!!!!!!!!
tetsutetsu: please tell me this is a guessing game
tetsutetsu: nevermind i’m gonna make it a guessing game
tetsutetsu: you’re moving to San Francisco and becoming my manservant
tetsutetsu: you’re moving to San Francisco and becoming Red’s manservant
tetsutetsu: you’ve finally decided to grace us with nudes
notmatsukawa: Tetsurou, if you could kindly shut the fuck up.
OWLBOY45: if i were moving to san frn how could i be red’s manservant he also lives in japan??
tetsutetsu: in this reality he is also moving here
notmatsukawa: And live any closer to you than I absolutely have to? I think not.
OWLBOY45: okay well anyway im gonna tell you my good news now!! i finally found a name that i like that i think fits me!!!
tetsutetsu: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
tetsutetsu: TELL US RIGHT NOW
OWLBOY45: got an even better idea!!!!
tetsutetsu: the anticipation is killing me rn
koutarou: TADA
tetsutetsu: KOUTAROU MY BEST BRO
tetsutetsu: KOUTAROU MY BROMEO
tetsutetsu: BROTAROU MY HOMOEROTIC SUBTEXT
notmatsukawa: I think it suits you very well, Koutarou. I like it very much.
koutarou: you do?
notmatsukawa: I really do.
tetsutetsu: WOW i see how it is, don’t even care about MY APPROVAL
koutarou: nooooooooo it was for both of you! tetsu i love youuuuuuuuuu (●♡∀♡))ヾ☆*。
tetsutetsu: ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)
koutarou: ♡✧。 (⋈◍＞◡＜◍)。✧♡
tetsutetsu: ( ˘ ³˘)♥
koutarou: ♪(｡◕ฺˇε ˇ◕ฺ｡）♡
notmatsukawa: Should I leave the two of you to your sexual advances?
koutarou: NO RED DONT LEAVE
tetsutetsu: jealousy doesn’t suit you red
notmatsukawa: Very well, Koutarou.
notmatsukawa: Tetsurou, I would like to politely request that you go suck a dick.
tetsutetsu: daichi’s not up yet or i would ;)

It’s easy to relax when he’s talking to Red and Tetsurou. They have a way of making him forget about real life, about the passage of time altogether. It’s ten before Koutarou realizes he hasn’t eaten anything since lunch, and Red and Tetsurou keep him company while he cooks some noodles and beef. They play a few rounds of Wherewolf while he eats. When he’s done, he settles back into bed, and it’s well past midnight before Tetsurou logs off.

tetsutetsu : gotta go, husband's calling ;) see you later you sexy fucks
notmatsukawa : Need I remind you once again that that is not an appropriate farewell, Tetsurou?
tetsutetsu: ;)

Red appears in Koutarou’s direct messages before he has a chance to send one himself.

notmatsukawa : One of these days, I swear, I will unleash the fury I've held back on him all this time.
koutarou : you love him
notmatsukawa : I do, and every day I regret it.
koutarou : do you ever think about it?
notmatsukawa: About regretting my friendship with Tetsurou? Yes.
koutarou : no i mean
koutarou: about marriage

Red is “typing” for a long time. Koutarou opens his phone and fails the same level of Vampire Vex several times in a row before his Discord pings with a notification.

notmatsukawa : It’s never really been a choice, considering my preferences. Unfortunately, you and I live in a country where we aren’t free to marry whomever we please.
koutarou: if you could, would you want to?
notmatsukawa : I suppose it is the ultimate expression of love, isn’t it? So if I found the right person, someone I could be certain of, then I imagine I would want to give myself to them in that regard.
koutarou : yeah
notmatsukawa: Why do you ask?

Koutarou sighs. It’s been easy enough to push the matter of what his father had told him earlier out of his mind, but now it’s all come roaring back. If he could trust anyone with the information, he knows it would be Red. 

On rare occasions, usually late nights such as these after Tetsurou has logged off and it’s just him and Red chatting, he lets himself think about the way his relationship with Red is different from his relationship with Tetsurou. They’re both his best friends, but with Red, there’s always been an undercurrent of something...more. He thinks maybe if they were in the same place and time in the real world, he would ask Red to be his boyfriend. Or maybe he’d just lean over one day and take in the surprised look on Red’s face at their sudden closeness before kissing him. Most days he’s ninety-nine percent sure Red would kiss him back.

But despite how badly he wants to tell him the truth, there’s still the part of him that is terrified of all the things his mother taught him the first time she caught him on the Internet. He can’t use his real name, he can’t give details about his personal life, and he definitely can’t meet up with anyone he meets unless he wants to potentially expose the family to shame. If he wants to keep her happy, he’ll follow her rules. Red would never do anything to hurt him, but…

notmatsukawa : You don’t have to answer that. I apologize.
koutarou: no, no, its okay. i was just thinking about it i guess. bc bein trans might make it easier really since like, the government wont recognize the change of gender or whatever
notmatsukawa : Do you have someone you’d like to marry?
koutarou : nah, lol. you know you and tetsu are my best friends. if i was gonna marry anybody it would have to be one of you, and tetsu’s already spoken for
notmatsukawa : That leaves just me.
koutarou : i actually already got you a ring
notmatsukawa : Bold of you to assume I’ll accept.
koutarou : :O red!!!! you would leave me at the altar???
notmatsukawa : We would never get to the altar.
koutarou : WHATEVER i would make a great husband!!!!!
notmatsukawa: I’m sure you would, Koutarou.
koutarou : yeah i would huff
notmatsukawa : We should both be getting to sleep, you know.
koutarou : sounds like the sorta thing my husband would say
notmatsukawa: If being your husband means caring very deeply for you and doing my best to make sure you’re taken care of, then I will happily take that mantle upon myself.

Koutarou can’t help the stupid smile that grows on his face as he stares at his screen. He screenshots the conversation and—then realizes with a sinking feeling that he may have to clear his computer of things like that sometime in the near future. It will depend entirely on what this Akaashi Keiji is like. 

Koutarou knows one thing for certain. Even if he gets incredibly lucky and Akaashi Keiji is a good man, he will never be even half as good as Red.

He sends one last message before closing his computer and setting it on his side table.

koutarou : good night, red. sleep well <3
notmatsukawa: You too, Koutarou. I wish you the happiest of dreams.

*** 

track 01. peace - taylor swift

Instead, Koutarou dreams of weddings.

At first, he wears a suit that is bizarrely covered in cow print with a bell in place of a boutonniere. As he walks down the aisle, it clanks noisily against his chest. He thinks, at first, that it is Tetsurou waiting for him at the altar, but as he approaches, Tetsu’s face shifts into the face of Ken Watanabe. When he looks down at himself, his suit is gone, replaced by a horrible pink monstrosity of a wedding dress. He pleads with Ken Watanabe, begging him to wait just five minutes so he can go change, but Ken laughs, loud and unkind, and then the rest of the guests laugh too. Koutarou tries to gather the dress up so he can run away, but he trips over its chiffon layers and lands in the cake, and in the distance his mother cries about how he’s brought shame to the entire Bokuto family…

He wakes up with a yelp before the sun has fully risen. 

It’s just the stress of meeting Akaashi—his fiance—that’s getting to him, he reasons with himself. It doesn’t stop his heart from pounding furiously, even as he rolls out of bed and goes to splash water on his face. It doesn’t stop his mind from replaying his mother’s sobs over and over as he pushes his treadmill to its limits and blares music loud enough that he’s grateful, for the first time, that he doesn’t have any neighbors. It doesn’t stop him from strapping himself into three sports bras after his shower in a desperate attempt to push down the surge of dysphoria that surfaces when he thinks of himself in a wedding dress.

He tries not to think about how Red and Tetsurou would be disappointed that he’s binding incorrectly. They’d understand if they knew the whole story.

He spends a good part of the morning trying to decide what to wear. He doesn’t have any jeans that aren’t baggy at this point, so those are out altogether, which means he’s going to end up in business casual. He digs through his entire closet and throws half of it onto his bed before finally settling on a pair of gray slacks and a loose white button down. He pulls his hair into its standard bun and pockets his lip gloss, because if his mother’s there today she’ll insist he wear at least a little makeup, and the gloss is better than anything on his eyes.

He stares at himself in the mirror for a while after he’s done getting dressed. He doesn’t look how he wants, exactly, but he looks a lot more masculine than he usually does around his parents. He grabs a gold cardigan on the way out the door just in case.

He stops by his favorite cafe on the way to his father’s office. Tsukishima is off today, but he leaves plenty in the tip jar for the rest of the staff and chats for a few minutes with the tiny manager, Yachi. She’s the sort of person he could see himself being friends with if he could tell her who he really is; her girlfriend is trans, too, according to Tsukishima, so she would probably be really understanding.

He probably doesn’t need the caffeine, considering how jittery he’s feeling, but he sips at his frozen coffee anyway. It’s more sugar than coffee, which Tsukishima always gives him a hard time about, but he’s figured out by now that that’s his way of expressing affection. Plus it helps him think about something other than what feels like his impending doom.

He opens the door to his father’s office building at 12:58 pm, so he considers himself on time, even though it will take more than three minutes to actually get up to the top floor in the elevator. He discards the remainder of his coffee in a trashcan on the bottom floor before pressing the call button for the elevator. His father might forgive a minute or two of tardiness, but if he sees the coffee cup, he’ll definitely be reprimanded later, and this is hard enough as it is.

The long elevator ride gives him time to freak out. He tries to calm himself by messaging Tetsurou, but he must be gaming, because his status says online but he doesn’t answer. Koutarou chews on his lip and pockets his phone. He decides to apply the lip gloss now, just in case.

And then the elevator opens for the top floor, and Koutarou steps out into his future.

His father is waiting next to Mira-san’s desk. He huffs impatiently and turns without a word. Koutarou waves at Mira-san and whispers a soft “hello!” as he passes. She grins and tosses a caramel at him, and he makes a heart with his fingers in her direction. 

There are two men in the exterior part of his father’s office. “Bokuto-san!” booms one of them, the elder. “This must be your daughter, Minako. Keiji, say hello.”

A young man in a well-fitted navy suit stands and turns to him. The first thing that catches Koutarou’s attention is his gold tie; it almost perfectly matches the shade of the cardigan Koutarou had slipped on in the elevator at the last moment. From there, Koutarou’s gaze finds his face. He’s...handsome. Very handsome. His eyes are steel blue and piercing, like they could cut right to Koutarou’s very core. It makes him feel exposed, and were it not for the slight lift of Akaashi’s lips into a tiny smile, he would feel like he were being judged and deemed unworthy. But instead, Akaashi seems pleased, or at the very least, neutral.

“Minako,” his father says, and Koutarou has to hold back his flinch. “This is Akaashi Keiji. Your fiance.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, bowing.

At the last moment, Koutarou remembers to bow back. “Likewise,” he murmurs.

“And this is Akaashi Ukyou, your soon-to-be father-in-law.”

The elder Akaashi wears a much brighter smile than his son. His hair has gone entirely gray, and his wrinkles suggest he’s older than Koutarou’s own father. He wonders at Akaashi’s age, but before his mind can wander too far, Ukyou booms a laugh.

“What a beautiful daughter you have here, Bokuto-san!” He reaches out his hand to shake Koutarou’s. Koutarou shakes back without a word, feeling his father’s eyes bore into him. “They’re quite a handsome match, don’t you think? Stand together, kids, will you?”

Koutarou only manages to move when his father’s glare intensifies; he scrambles over to Akaashi’s side despite the lead in his stomach. Akaashi wraps an arm around his waist, but he barely touches Koutarou. His fingers just graze the outside of Koutarou’s hip.

“Smile!” Ukyou directs.

Koutarou is horrified to realize that Ukyou is holding up his phone and taking pictures. Immediately his skin reddens, and he tries not to fixate on how that’s probably ruining the picture. It’s only a moment or two, but that’s two moments too long, and when Ukyou lets his hands fall back to his sides, Koutarou takes a step away from Akaashi and turns so he can’t see his face. 

“Aren’t you going to take a picture, eh, Bokuto-san?” Ukyou asks. 

“There will be plenty of pictures taken at the wedding,” says his father coolly.

“Sure, sure, but your kids only meet once!” 

His father doesn’t rise to the bait. He grunts and turns toward his office. 

“We have paperwork to sign, Akaashi-san.”

“Sure, sure, always more paperwork!” Ukyou says. “You kids have a good time!”

The elder Bokuto and Akaashi disappear into his father’s office. There is a silence that stretches out, longer and longer, until finally Koutarou feels a hand fall gently on his shoulder.

“I apologize,” Akaashi says softly. “My father is...quite outgoing, and I’m aware of how overwhelming it can be.”

“No, no, no, he’s fine.” Koutarou flips around, but Akaashi is much closer than he expected, and now they’re practically nose to nose. Koutarou forgets how to breathe. Up close, he can see that Akaashi sports a smattering of fine freckles across his nose and cheeks that aren’t visible except from here.

“I apologize,” says Akaashi again, stepping back and looking down and away. 

“You’re fine, it’s no problem,” Koutarou whispers. He gestures to the couches. “We can...sit?”

Akaashi nods stiffly, and they sit on opposite ends of the same sofa. Koutarou chews his lip and fights the overwhelming press of the silence.

“Tell me about yourself,” Koutarou urges. “I mean, we should get to know each other since we’re gonna be engaged. Well, I mean, we’re engaged already. Married, we’re gonna be married.”

Akaashi offers him a small smile, just like that first one. It’s a good smile. It leaves his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m Akaashi Keiji. I’m twenty-four. I’ve lived in Miyagi most of my life and only moved to Tokyo a few months ago, so I’m afraid I don’t know much about the city.”

“I can show you around, I’ve lived here my whole life,” Koutarou blurts, but then he winces. “I mean—I’m sorry, I interrupted you.”

Akaashi shakes his head. “I was done.”

“That’s it?”

“You’ll have to ask me more specific questions,” Akaashi says, a blush spreading over his cheeks. It looks nice on him. Koutarou thinks again that he’s quite handsome. “I’m not good at making myself known.”

“Oh, sure! Um...what’s your favorite color?”

Koutarou volleys question after question in Akaashi’s direction, and Akaashi answers them all, even throwing a few back to Koutarou. To Koutarou’s great surprise, Akaashi is polite, soft spoken, and kind. He doesn’t seem much like his father, but he doesn’t seem much like any of the people Koutarou’s father usually does business with, either. For a few moments, while it’s just the two of them, their impending wedding feels almost bearable.

Koutarou’s mother and eldest sister Keiko arrive in a flurry after half an hour or so. Koutarou is glad for his last minute gloss decision as she comes around and hauls him up off the couch.

“Sorry to break you up, lovebirds, but we have wedding plans to make!”

Koutarou tries not to let his nausea show on his face. Akaashi stands and bows at her.

“Bokuto-san, would you mind if I gave you my number?” he asks, his eyes on Koutarou. “In case you need anything for the wedding.”

“S-sure,” Koutarou manages. He opens a new contact in his phone and hands it over to Akaashi, who types in his number and hands it back. 

“If you wouldn’t mind sending me a message so I have yours as well, I would appreciate it.”

Koutarou nods. “Of course.”

“Okay, you can see each other another day! Come on, Minako! See you soon, Keiji-kun!”

Koutarou’s pulled away, but he can’t help but look back at Akaashi one more time. He’s still standing, his hand raised in a half-hearted attempt at a wave. Koutarou tries to smile, but he isn’t sure at all if Akaashi sees it, because just before the Bokutos round the corner, he buries his face in his hands.

Koutarou spends the rest of the day thinking about it, between talk of centerpieces and flowers and the menu. He can’t decide if it was out of embarrassment or frustration or anger or...what. But it was cute. That’s what he knows for sure.

If only he could show Akaashi his real self. Then maybe all of this wouldn’t be quite so bad.

*** 

track 02. the planets bend between us - snow patrol

<< Hi, this is Bokuto. 

That’s all Koutarou ends up sending to Akaashi in the end, although he debates with himself all night whether he should say more. Maybe he should offer again to take Akaashi out to see the city. Maybe he should suggest they spend more time getting to know each other. Or maybe Akaashi doesn’t want that at all, and asking for his phone number was just a nice thing to do in front of his future mother-in-law. So he does the safe thing, and maybe if Akaashi wants to talk to him more, he’ll text first. 

He doesn’t know if he wants that or not.

He wakes early on Saturday. His mother couldn’t get them into the dress boutique until the following weekend, so this is the last free Saturday he’ll have for a while, and he decides to spend it at the cafe. 

Tsukishima is working today. He rolls his eyes and turns to prepare Koutarou’s order as soon as he sees him walk in, and by the time he gets to the counter to pay, it’s already ready for him.

“You better not be here to cause problems today,” Tsukishima calls from the espresso machine.

“Not for my favorite barista!” Koutarou answers.

Tsukishima narrows his eyes. Koutarou laughs and takes his coffee over to a corner table, where he sets up his laptop and plugs his headphones in. He drops a message into his server with Red and Tetsurou, letting them both know he’ll be available for a while if they want to play Mystery Monster with him. Neither of them are displaying as online, though, so he scrolls through Twitter and tries not to feel too miserable.

“There’s something wrong with you,” Tsukishima says, dropping into the seat across from Koutarou.

Koutarou tugs an earphone out. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been here twenty minutes and you haven’t finished your coffee yet,” Tsukishima observes. “I was ready to make you another one before I went on break but I looked over and you’ve taken like, two sips out of that one. I know nothing’s wrong with it, I made it myself, therefore something must be wrong with you.”

“I can always count on you to cut right to the point, Tsukki. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. “Are you gonna tell me or am I going to have to Google you to find out?”

Koutarou sighs and pulls out the other earphone, pushing his laptop to the side. “I’m getting married six weeks from today.”

Tsukishima crosses his arms over his chest. “One, you never told me you were engaged or dating anyone. Two, most people are happy when they’re getting married.” He leans in, looking grumpy. “Don’t tell me your father arranged this.”

“You’re really too smart for your own good,” Koutarou mumbles.

Tsukishima sits back against his chair and looks up at the ceiling. “Well. I hate weddings, so don’t bother inviting me.”

“I have no control over the guest list, so consider yourself not invited.”

“What do you have control over?”

Koutarou shrugs. “I mean, I guess I’m in charge of getting myself there, but knowing my family I’ll have at least one sister on escort duty twenty-four/seven for the week leading up to it.”

Tsukishima fidgets with his apron, not meeting Koutarou’s gaze. Koutarou takes a sip of the drink he’d sort of forgotten about until Tsukishima mentioned it. Eventually, Tsukishima huffs.

“At least give me his name so I can have Kenma do his cyberstalking thing.”

“If you turn up anything terrible I don’t want to know.”

“Deal.”

“Akaashi Keiji.”

Tsukishima purses his lips. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“He said he’s not from around here. His father runs Red Rabbit, Incorporated.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a small company, I guess, although my father’s taking it over.”

Koutarou knows Tsukishima puts together the unspoken pieces, because anger flares up in his face before it settles into neutrality again. Tsukishima doesn’t know Koutarou’s trans, but over the years Koutarou’s been coming here, he’s gotten to know a lot of other things about Koutarou. He’s probably as close to a friend as Koutarou has in real life, and he knows Tsukishima hates the way his father treats him. Unlike Red and Tetsurou, though, Tsukishima has never tried to convince Koutarou to tell his father off or defy him. Then again, he understands the Bokuto influence a lot more personally than Red or Tetsurou can.

“Are your friends around today?” Tsukishima asks eventually.

Koutarou shakes his head. “I’m hoping at least Red will be online this afternoon. I think Tetsurou’s working but I’m not good at remembering the time difference.”

Tsukishima takes off his glasses and rubs the lenses between the fabric of his sweater. “You won’t stop coming here after you get married, will you?”

“Nah, I’d never leave you, Tsukki. Who would make my drinks?”

“Hopefully someone with better taste.” He replaces his glasses on his face and stands. “If you haven’t come to order something to eat in an hour I’m throwing a bagel at your head and making you pay for two.”

“Fair enough,” Koutarou replies with a grin.

Tsukishima shakes his head as he walks away. Koutarou’s phone buzzes, but when he checks Discord there’s nothing. Instead, he finds he has a text from Akaashi.

>> Thank you. It was very good to meet you yesterday. I would be interested in spending more time together prior to the wedding if you’re amenable.

Koutarou ponders this as he sips at his coffee. He doesn’t feel nearly as nervous as he did yesterday, which is good, but the nervousness he does feel is distinct from his previous feelings. He can’t tell how, exactly. He pictures Akaashi burying his face in his hands as Koutarou had walked away.

Before he can second guess himself, he answers.

<< I’m out having coffee right now if you’d like to join me.

Akaashi’s reply comes promptly.

>> I would like that very much.

Koutarou sends him the cafe’s name and address, and Akaashi says he’ll be there within half an hour or so. Koutarou closes his laptop and tries not to shake too much. He could definitely go for some food, but out of politeness, he decides to wait until Akaashi gets there. Instead, he pokes at Vampire Vex, where he continues to fail the same level he’s been stuck on for days. 

“Damn,” he mumbles, hitting the replay button. He takes down his hair and begins to reassemble his bun while he waits for it to load.

“Bokuto-san?”

Koutarou’s neck nearly cracks with how quickly he looks up. All of his hair falls out of his hands, and his hair tie goes flying across the cafe.

“Akaashi-san,” he greets, his face going red. He fumbles out of the booth so he can bow. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Your hair tie,” Akaashi says. A blush paints his fair skin, too. Koutarou shakes his head quickly.

“Don’t worry about it. Do you want to order something?”

Awkward silence settles between them as they wait in line. Koutarou can feel the heavy weight of Tsukishima’s glare on his own shoulders, even though it’s directed at Akaashi. While he’s occupied with the menu, Koutarou attempts to gesture to Tsukishima to get him to cut it out, but it doesn’t seem to help. Instead, Tsukishima sends the cashier to the back for something and takes her place at the counter as Koutarou and Akaashi approach.

“Can I help you?” he drawls, staring straight at Akaashi with furrowed brows.

“I think I’d just like a black coffee,” Akaashi says. He looks to Koutarou. “Would you like anything more?”

“She’s already taken care of,” Tsukishima interrupts before Koutarou can say anything. Tsukishima sets another frozen coffee on the counter without looking away from Akaashi. Akaashi tilts his head at Koutarou.

“Are you a regular here, then?” he asks. 

Koutarou nods meekly. “Thank you. May I also have a slice of coffee cake, Tsukki?”

“Tsukishima,” he corrects, although he’s still not looking at Koutarou. 

Koutarou would have already wilted under the power of Tsukishima’s ire, but Akaashi smiles pleasantly and hands over his card. “That sounds good, actually. I’ll take a slice as well. Thank you, Tsukishima-san.”

Tsukishima rings them up, and they shuffle down to the end of the counter to wait for their order. Koutarou fidgets with his straw.

“How long have you been coming here?” Akaashi asks.

Koutarou clears his throat. “Um, four years or so. Since I moved into the apartment I live in now. It’s halfway between home and Dad’s office, and they make the best coffee in the district.”

“Good customer service, too,” Akaashi says lightly, and Koutarou follows his gaze over to where Tsukishima is pouring his coffee. He’s frowning in their direction.

“I’m really sorry, Tsukki’s just cranky around new people.”

“Or, perhaps, he’s protective of you.”

“We’re barely friends,” Koutarou protests.

Akaashi’s lips lift in a smile. “If you say so, Bokuto-san.”

Tsukishima brings Akaashi’s coffee and the cake, and Koutarou leads them back over to his corner booth. He hastily shoves his laptop into its case and stows it under the table. 

“I apologize for intruding, but were you playing Mystery Monster before?” Akaashi asks as they sit down.

“Oh. Yeah, I was.” Koutarou chews his lip. “It’s my favorite.”

Akaashi nods. “I play every once in a while myself.”

“You do?” Koutarou questions. Then he bites his lip in embarrassment. “Sorry, you don’t seem the type.”

Akaashi laughs softly. “I don’t, do I? I was surprised I enjoyed it when I first played. A friend talked me into it several years ago.”

Quiet hovers over them again, oppressive and heavy. Koutarou pokes at his cake and tries not to fidget underneath the table. Akaashi, on the other hand, seems totally comfortable with the lack of exchange. Koutarou flips through a million questions in his head, trying to find a safe topic of conversation.

“I think I forgot to ask you yesterday what you do for a living,” he finally manages.

“I’m a manga editor,” Akaashi replies.

“Wow, really?” Koutarou lights up. “That’s super cool!”

“It...is pretty cool,” Akaashi agrees, a smile lifting his lips. “I work at Shonen Jump.”

“You do?”

Akaashi nods. “Admittedly I hoped to write for a living, but I’m afraid I wasn’t successful at that venture. All the same, I’m adjacent to literature, and I enjoy what I do.”

“You write, too?”

Akaashi takes a bite of his cake, chewing slowly and savoring it while Koutarou waits impatiently for him to finish. “In college, I contributed to several literary magazines, but work keeps me busy enough that I don’t do as much of my own writing these days as I’d like to.”

Koutarou smiles at him. “That’s very cool, Akaashi-san.”

“Do you think?” Akaashi muses. “Thank you for saying so, Bokuto-san. What do you like to do in your free time?”

“Ah.” Koutarou shrugs, unwilling to confess how many hours he devotes to Mystery Monster. “I like working out. It helps my brain run. I used to play more sports, but…”

Koutarou trails off. It still aches, the void that was left in his chest when his parents made him quit volleyball. His coaches said he could have gone pro, but his father was convinced it wasn’t feminine enough. Even back then Koutarou wasn’t concerned with whether he came across as feminine or not, but his father put his foot down.

“But?” Akaashi prods gently.

Koutarou shrugs, trying to gather a smile back onto his face. “Just easier to work out alone, you know?”

Akaashi blinks. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but you don’t seem like an introvert, Bokuto-san.”

“I...guess you’d be surprised.” 

He’s pretty certain Akaashi can see through his lie, so he comes up with a question to ask to steer the conversation away from himself. “Tell me more about where you grew up! I’ve never been to Miyagi.”

Akaashi is a good storyteller when Koutarou pokes him into talking about himself. Koutarou himself is prone to talking with his hands, large gestures that catch the eye, but Akaashi has a way of speaking that makes Koutarou lean in to listen even though his hands rest delicately around his cup of coffee. He can understand how Akaashi would make a good writer; maybe with the money he’ll have from being associated with the Bokuto family, he can pursue something like that in the future...

Koutarou bites his lip. “Can I ask you a question? You can totally say no if it’s too personal.”

Akaashi smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “We’re meant to be married, Bokuto-san. We will share in many, many personal things.”

“R-right.” Koutarou clears his throat. “Um. Can I ask why you agreed to an arranged marriage?”

Akaashi’s smile falls away from his face. He sighs and reaches for his drink, taking a long sip before setting it aside. “You ask a good question,” he says. “And you deserve a good answer, so I hope you are satisfied with this. My father and mother have lived separately their entire married lives. They were married later in life, my father being almost thirty-five and my mother nearly thirty when they wed. My mother raised me on her own in Miyagi while my father worked in Tokyo and sent money home for us. They love each other very much, and although I rarely saw them together, they modeled for me what an ideal relationship looks like. My father is advancing in age, as I’m sure you noticed upon your brief meeting, and this deal with your family will secure a peaceful retirement for him. He will be able to go home and live alongside my mother for the first time in many years. I want to grant him that happiness for the remainder of his life, and since I am by no means equipped to take over the business, this seemed the best way to do that.”

“But what about your happiness?” Koutarou blurts out. When he realizes what he said, he claps a hand to his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, reaching over and touching his forearm. “I understand what you’re asking.”

Koutarou slowly lowers his hand. Akaashi takes his back.

“I know this is...sudden,” he says. “And I want to be clear that I don’t expect you to fall in love with me.”

Koutarou blinks at him.

“I—I only mean that you seem lovely, but we hardly know each other, and six weeks isn’t enough time to affect that very much.” Akaashi’s thumbs twirl around each other, and Koutarou’s eyes get lost in the motion. “I know that this marriage is not the most romantic, but I hope that we can grow to become friends, Bokuto-san. I hope that you don’t resent me for stealing what should have been yours to give away.”

Koutarou swallows around the lump in his throat. “I probably never would have gotten married anyway,” he confesses.

“That seems quite unlikely, given your...ah, attractive appearance, charismatic nature, and elevated status,” Akaashi says, his cheeks reddening with each word.

“Oh.” Koutarou squirms, trying to figure out how to reply. “I mean, um. I’m just...not the marrying type. That’s probably why my parents arranged something for me.”

Akaashi puzzles out the meaning behind his words while Koutarou takes a long sip of his coffee. It’s nearing empty, but he really shouldn’t have any more caffeine. He sets it aside and chews the inside of his cheek for a moment before speaking again.

“I hope we can be friends, too, Akaashi-san,” Koutarou says. “I was nervous meeting you because most of the people my father approves of are...business-y types.”

Akaashi cocks his head. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Um…this might not come across very nicely, but a lot of them are jerks,” Koutarou mumbles. “You know. Rude, work-obsessed, condescending. That kind of thing.”

“Ah.” Akaashi nods. “Yes, I know the type. I encountered quite a few of them in college, although they’re not as common in my line of work now. Writers are more of the artsy type.”

“Artsy?”

“Head in the clouds, no concept of deadlines.”

“Ah.”

“I like to think I walk a fine line between those two extremes.”

Koutarou smiles. “If I asked your writer, would he agree?”

Akaashi hums, considering. “I think he may consider me too far gone toward the business end of the spectrum, but someone has to make sure we have pages to hand in every week.”

Koutarou laughs, and Akaashi’s eyes crinkle at the corners. Handsome, Koutarou thinks again. Then he looks away and tries to think about something else.

Akaashi gets up to leave an hour or so later, citing plans with his father for dinner. He offers Koutarou a smile and a bow as he goes to leave.

“Keep in touch?” he says, lilting at the end like it’s a request.

Koutarou nods, feeling that it won’t be much of a burden. “Sure.”

“Thank you. It was good to see you again, Bokuto-san. Have a good day.”

He turns and heads out of the cafe. Behind the counter, Tsukishima glares at his retreating figure before turning to Koutarou.

“Do I have to hurt him?” he asks.

Koutarou laughs. “No, but thanks for the offer.”

“I need a reason to commit a crime,” he murmurs. 

Koutarou isn’t at all certain if he’s serious or not.

*** 

track 03. state of grace - taylor swift

Red and Tetsurou are online by the time Koutarou gets home, but he leaves out any mention of the day’s activity while he chats with them. He isn’t sure how much he should tell them about Akaashi, because it will inevitably lead to the sort of personal details he has to dodge. They don’t mind his secrecy and never have, but he himself is frustrated by his inability to share with them. Still, they’d be happy to know he’s sort of making a friend in the real world, if only because their parents are forcing them into a lifelong playdate.

He rises early on Sunday, despite how late he’d stayed up chatting with Red the night before. He has a lunch date with his mother and eldest sister, and his nerves are prickling from the moment he opens his eyes. He wonders if that’s going to be a constant feeling he wakes with until the wedding passes. 

They’re dining in public today, which means there’s a chance of photographers, which means his mother will expect him to wear a dress. He sighs as he picks through his closet. He knows he’ll end up in the floor-length floral dress he always wears if he has to pick a dress, but he goes through the motions anyway so that he can claim he tried. He throws the same gold cardigan he wore to meet Akaashi over it, pulls his hair up into a bun, and tries not to look at himself too closely in the mirror as he heads out the door.

His sister Keiko is already there when he arrives. They make awkward small talk while they sip at their tea. He’s never been particularly close with her, since she’s twelve years his senior. His middle sister Remmu is eight years older than him, but she always made more of an effort to spend time with him and get to know him. He desperately wishes she were going to be in attendance today, but she lives in the north. She’ll be down next weekend for the dress buying, but Koutarou’s on his own today.

Bokuto Usaki startles the whole cafe as she bustles over to their table. Keiko stands and makes just as much of a fuss as they hug like they didn’t just see each other a few days ago. Koutarou stands after they’ve settled and gives his mother a hug. She eyes his outfit critically as they sit.

“You have so many lovely dresses, Minako,” she says, lifting her menu and whispering to him behind it. “Why do you always choose the same one?”

“This dress is lovely, too,” Koutarou replies.

She sighs. “Of course it is.”

He can tell he’s disappointed her, but that’s as much as she says about it out loud, which he counts as a win. There are a few photographers around now that she’s here. Koutarou draws his cardigan closer around himself and tries his best to hide his face.

“We have so much planning to do,” his mother announces after she’s posed for photos drinking tea and smiling beatifically. She pulls a notebook out of her bag and looks over to his sister. “Keiko, darling, do you think silver or gold for the accent color?”

Koutarou almost objects. It’s his wedding; shouldn’t he be allowed to decide what the accent color is? But then he realizes he isn’t actually sure which answer his mother is looking for. Keiko probably does. He bites his tongue.

“Silver,” she says after a moment of hemming and hawing. “Definitely silver.”

“You’re absolutely right,” his mother decides.

He allows his mind to drift as the details are decided on. He tries to imagine the sort of wedding he’d want, if he had any say in it. He’d wear a suit, maybe a bow tie. He’s always fancied himself the sort of man who could pull off a bow tie, although he may never know if he’s right. There wouldn’t be many people around, just Tetsurou, Daichi, and Red. Maybe Tsukishima, if he could come out to him. Maybe he’d get married in a park, or by a lake, and if the ceremony was at sunset, the colors would reflect on the water and they could release lanterns as the stars came up...

“What kind of flowers do you prefer, Minako?”

Koutarou blinks. He has a favorite flower. This, unlike the very few other questions that have been directed at him, is a question he can handle.

“Sunflowers,” he says softly. “I like sunflowers.”

His mother wrinkles her nose. “Darling, those are a summer flower. You need something more seasonally appropriate.”

“What about dahlias?” Keiko suggests.

“Yes!” His mother brandishes her pen once more. On the previous pages are written all of the very small details which Koutarou himself would never have considered when wedding planning, such as how the napkins should be folded at the tables and whether his cousin Emiko should be allowed to stand as a bridesmaid since she’s visibly pregnant. Dahlias are written on a fresh page, plus several other flowers whose names Koutarou doesn’t recognize. They spitball the colors of his bouquet and what color would look nicest for the groomsmens’ ties.

Koutarou doesn’t imagine a wedding again. Instead, he pretends he is somewhere far away.

*** 

track 03. state of grace - taylor swift (continued)

koutarou: i really hope you guys are available tonight...

It’s not often that Koutarou messages them when they’re both displaying as offline, but after the hours of wedding planning he endures, he falls into bed too exhausted to even take his dress off. It chafes at him, the dysphoria that’s been building up all day, but he wraps himself in blankets and tries his best to separate his mind from his body. Fortunately, it isn’t long before he gets a ping for a direct message from Red.

notmatsukawa: Are you alright?
koutarou: i mean honestly no but like
koutarou: i had to spend the day with my mother and sister so
notmatsukawa: Ah. I’m sorry. Were there any specifics you wished to discuss?
koutarou: i have approximately one (1) dress i feel halfway comfortable in
koutarou: (and by comfortable i mean i don’t wanna rip my skin off most of the time in it)
koutarou: so every time we go out i wear that one (1) dress
koutarou: and my mom wasn’t like, mad, but she was disappointed and that’s basically worse
notmatsukawa: Would an outfit that involves slacks and a blouse not have been acceptable for this occasion?
koutarou: most of the time those are fine but we were doing ~fancy~ things today
notmatsukawa: I can see how that would be frustrating. How is your dysphoria?
koutarou: on a scale of 1 to 10 about 8
notmatsukawa: Do you need me to remind you that you are a man? A strong, brave, wonderful, valid man?
koutarou: that depends
koutarou: do strong brave wonderful valid men cry when they’re told they’re strong brave wonderful and valid?
notmatsukawa: They can if the spirit moves them.

Koutarou wipes impatiently at his face. There are a lot of things he would give not to be the sort of person who tears up any time he receives a genuine compliment. He tries to think of something to say in response when the server alerts him that Tetsu has responded.

tetsutetsu: bad day?
koutarou: yeah :(
tetsutetsu: anything we can do?
koutarou: spike a volleyball into my dysphoria?
tetsutetsu: oh god i haven’t played volleyball in years, you’d laugh at me for sure
notmatsukawa: I do not have the slightest bit of athletic inclination. If you would like me to eviscerate your dysphoria with the power of language, I could probably make an attempt.
tetsutetsu: eviscerate sounds like something mean you’d do to my penis
notmatsukawa: That is not an entirely inaccurate guess as to what that word means.
koutarou: man if i could just talk away my dysphoria i’d have done it forever ago
koutarou: you’re welcome to try though
tetsutetsu: maybe red’s fancy words will confuse your dysphoria and deal it psychic damage
koutarou: i feel like i’d end up with psychic damage too
tetsutetsu: if we played dnd red would have to be the dm because any character he played would be too powerful and would probably turn on the party and kill us all
koutarou: if we played dnd i would play a bard
tetsutetsu: of course you would
notmatsukawa: Koutarou, back to Tetsurou’s original point. Is there anything we can do to help?

Koutarou sighs in consideration. He wishes he could see them in person. He wishes Red could say all those nice things aloud so they’re more than just words on a screen. He wants to laugh with Tetsurou, to laugh with them both. His heart aches with it. But the circumstances of his birth are such that he can’t tell them who he is. Some days it feels like he’s just a rabbit running after a carrot that he’ll never catch.

koutarou : i wish i could just stay online all the time. it’s like...a dreamland here. i can’t tell you any of the stuff about my real life but you know all the important stuff, you know? you know my name . my parents don’t even know that.
notmatsukawa: There are many things I would sacrifice to be able to take away your hurt, Koutarou.
tetsutetsu: same :(
koutarou: but you do, both of you do. when i’m here it’s like the real world almost doesn’t exist and i don’t have to think about all the things that are constantly going wrong. i can just be myself because that’s who you want me to be
tetsutetsu: damn straight
tetsutetsu: nope, damn gay
tetsutetsu: (get it bc i’m gay)
notmatsukawa: We are both well aware of your sexuality, Tetsurou.
koutarou: hehe
notmatsukawa: Koutarou, I am glad that this space exists for you here. But ideally it would exist for you in a more all-encompassing way in the real world. It hurts me that you have to hide. That is what I wish I could affect.

Koutarou swallows. He can almost imagine reaching out and holding Red’s hand in his own, or Red’s arms wrapping him in a hug. He thinks about the way his heart would pound in his chest. If Red’s half as beautiful as his words make him out to be, he’s probably the most stunning person in Japan, if not the whole world. 

But he can’t have Red in real life. His two worlds have to remain separate. He has to make do with what he has. It has to be enough.

koutarou: i know
koutarou: i wish this could be the real world too
koutarou: but having this some of the time is better than not having it at all, right?
tetsutetsu: for sure!!
notmatsukawa: Of course.
tetsutetsu: hey uhh kou did you wanna say anything else or can i tell a story about work?
koutarou: oooh tetsu work story!!!!!!

*** 

track 04. the lakes - taylor swift

<< Are you free sometime in the next day or two? I have a few questions about the wedding I’d like your opinion on.

Koutarou hems and haws over the wording of the message before finally sending it. He figures it’s not really fair to finalize the attire for the groomsmen without asking Akaashi, since it’s his friends that will be forced to wear it. His mother and sister have settled tentatively on navy suits with maroon ties, which isn’t the worst color combination but definitely not what Koutarou would have picked if he’d actually cared (or been asked). He supposes Akaashi might care more than he does.

But given that he sends the message just after seven in the morning, he’s not really expecting a response until later. Akaashi had mentioned the mangaka he edits for is more of a night owl than an early bird, so there’s not really any point in starting his own hours before ten. Regardless, it’s only fifteen or so minutes before Koutarou receives a text in reply.

>>I’m up earlier than I’d like to be today. How do you feel about breakfast?

“Oh,” says Koutarou aloud. He bites his lip, suddenly uncertain. It had been one thing when it had been in some distant future, but right now? He takes a deep breath and tries to settle himself.

<<I feel good about all food!

>>Would you like to meet at your cafe again? In half an hour?

Not enough time for Koutarou to overthink things. Perfect.

<<Sure

Koutarou throws on a flannel and a pair of skinny jeans that he finds in the back of his closet. The fabric is a little uncomfortable on his thighs, but he’s tolerated worse for longer. He tucks his hair up under a hat and manages a smile at himself before running out the door.

It seems Koutarou’s the first there, or at least he doesn’t see Akaashi in the line that’s all the way to the cafe’s door. Tsukishima is a blur of blond hair and frowns as he works, and Yachi’s at the counter, which likely means they’re understaffed for the day. He lets Akaashi know he’s there and sticks a headphone in to listen to music while he waits, tapping his foot absentmindedly to the beat.

“I nearly didn’t recognize you,” comes Akaashi’s voice very suddenly at his side.

Koutarou startles, just a little, and tucks his phone away. “Hi, sorry. I should have mentioned I’m wearing a hat today.”

“Not to worry. It suits you.”

“O-oh. Um. Thank you.”

Akaashi is in an oversized sweater and a well-tailored pair of jeans. Koutarou can’t tell if his hair is intentionally messy or if he just didn’t bother fussing with it before he left, but either way he pulls it off. He looks good. Really good. Koutarou almost says something to that effect but manages to catch himself at the last moment.

“I hope you don’t mind your breakfast to-go,” Koutarou says. “There aren’t any free tables.”

“That’s quite alright,” Akaashi says. “Perhaps we could walk and eat at the same time?”

“Sure.”

They don’t exchange more than a few more words as they wait in line. Akaashi’s eyes close a few times, and Koutarou is a little afraid he’ll fall asleep standing up. But every time the line moves, he does, too, and eventually they make their way up to the counter. Yachi brightens when she sees Koutarou.

“Hello, Bokuto-san! How are you today?”

“I’m well, thank you. This is Akaashi-san. He’s…”

“A friend,” Akaashi finishes for him. Koutarou blushes for no discernible reason. “May I please have the largest black coffee you offer?”

“Is that...all?” Yachi asks, looking at Koutarou for confirmation.

“He would also like a New Yorker, and so would I. And my usual coffee, please.”

“You’ve got it.” 

Koutarou pulls out his wallet, but Akaashi is surprisingly fast given that he’s only half awake. He’s handed over his card before Koutarou can even pull his out.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

Akaashi nods as they scoot down the counter to wait. Tsukishima slows just long enough to glare at Akaashi for a moment and wave at Koutarou before going back to work. The new hire, Koganegawa, brings them their drinks and sandwiches with a smile.

“What exactly is a New Yorker?” Akaashi asks as they head out.

“Breakfast sandwich. Bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel. Trust me, it’s really good.”

Akaashi looks at him for a moment before looking down at his coffee. “I trust you, Bokuto-san,” he says, so softly Koutarou can barely hear him.

It seems Akaashi isn’t much more of a morning person than his mangaka. His feet drag as Koutarou leads him out of the cafe and down into the park around the corner. He takes the lead just long enough to park himself on a bench out of the way when they get there, and he doesn’t do much more than nod or shake his head in response to Koutarou’s questions while he eats. 

“You were right,” he says at one point, holding his sandwich up. “This is good.”

“Mmhmm.” Koutarou’s own is long gone. He’s always eaten too quickly. “Tsukki studied abroad in college and I guess his host family made him one of those for breakfast every day, so he brought it back with him.”

Akaashi nods and continues to eat. Koutarou tries not to stare or endlessly fidget while he waits. Eventually he finishes the sandwich and enough of his coffee that he starts to look a little more alive, and he takes pity on Koutarou’s poor bouncing feet. They set off down the path in the park.

“You had indicated you had wedding-related questions in your message this morning,” Akaashi says after a little while.

“Oh! Right.” Koutarou blushes. “Thanks for the reminder. Based on the flowers and season and also the conjunction of the moon and some other planets, probably, my mother has decided the groomsmen should wear navy with maroon. Are you alright with that?”

Akaashi’s feet come to a halt as he narrows his eyes at Koutarou. “What?”

“Navy with maroon,” Koutarou repeats. “It’s not like, shag carpet maroon, it’s more muted than that. Like a wine color almost.”

Akaashi shakes his head. “I heard that part. I meant to question how your mother came to this decision.”

Koutarou bites his lip. “Um, the flowers are...” He’s forgotten them entirely. His cheeks burn even brighter. “Something that goes with the colors she’s picked out. I think she means to use maroon and silver for all of the decorations and stuff.”

“You don’t know what flowers you picked?” Akaashi questions.

Koutarou feels shame and anxiety bubbling up in his stomach. He tries to babble them both away. “Well, originally I wanted sunflowers, but she said that’s more of a summer flower and this is an autumn wedding so it wouldn’t work, and I totally agreed and so my older sister Keiko suggested this other flower instead and I really like them, I just can’t quite remember what they’re called. I’m not very good at remembering stuff like that.”

Koutarou isn’t meeting Akaashi’s gaze, but he can feel his eyes on him all the same. He does his best not to fidget under the scrutiny.

“Pardon my ignorance, but I wasn’t aware flowers were exclusive to certain seasons.”

Koutarou shrugs. “I don’t really know that much about weddings.”

“But this one is yours.”

“Right.” He breathes in, holds like Red’s taught him, then breathes out. Grounded. He’s grounded. “I haven’t planned a wedding before though, and my mom’s planned two now. Both my older sisters. Theirs were fine, so I trust her.”

His words come across a little flatter than he intends them to, and he gets the feeling Akaashi knows there are things he’s not quite saying. But he doesn’t know Akaashi, not yet, and Akaashi doesn’t know him. He stands up a little straighter.

“It’s really alright, they showed me the pictures. They’ll look great. So can I give her the okay for navy and maroon?”

Akaashi hesitates another moment. Koutarou can almost hear the questions sitting on the tip of his tongue. But he’s smiling now, as genuinely as he can for the moment, so Akaashi nods.

“Navy and maroon seem fine to me.”

“Perfect. I’ll call her later.”

“Any other wedding questions?”

“I don’t think so.” Koutarou walks on, and Akaashi falls back into step with him. “Oh, I guess I’m going to have four bridesmaids, if you’re comfortable with four groomsmen.”

Akaashi frowns for a moment, considering. “Yes, I suppose I can arrange that.”

“Good deal.” Koutarou stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I think that’s the extent of my wedding stuff today. But you never know when I might have more questions.”

“Do you often find yourself contemplating table arrangements at odd hours?” Akaashi asks with a wry smile.

“Oh, all the time,” Koutarou answers. “I wake up in the middle of the night haunted by chiffon and lace.”

Akaashi laughs. It’s a quiet laugh, covered by a shy hand, but it suits him. Koutarou feels very pleased that he caused such a nice sound. 

Conversation with Akaashi is surprisingly easy, once he’s awake enough to actually talk. Koutarou learns that Akaashi also studied abroad in college, but he stayed in the United Kingdom. He goes on for a few minutes about seeing a play at a place called the Globe before cutting himself off and chastising Bokuto lightly for letting him talk so much. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” Koutarou says. “I like listening to you.”

Akaashi looks away, but Koutarou thinks he sees a smile on his lips. “Even so. Tell me about somewhere you’ve been, then. Someplace that left an impression on you.”

Koutarou wants to tell him about the virtual tour of the Golden Gate Bridge he did with Red and Tetsurou. Tetsu narrated as they clicked through pictures of a big orange monstrosity that seemed to be covered in fog half the time. Red was extremely disparaging about it; half the fun of the tour was reading his scathing comments about the United States and their lack of decent public transportation. 

But he’s never actually been there, he reminds himself. After too long a pause, he tells a random story about a vacation to Fiji and how pretty it was there, hoping he doesn’t sound half as boring as he feels. But Akaashi listens anyway, nodding along at all the appropriate times and asking enough questions that Koutarou thinks he didn’t fail too badly.

From there they talk about the time Koutarou broke his wrist as a little kid, and he learns Akaashi’s never once broken a bone or had any stitches. Then they see a dog, and after asking its owner if it’s alright, Koutarou kneels down to say hello. He’s left with a faceful of kisses, but he can’t stop smiling, and Akaashi asks if he’s ever had pets, which he hasn’t, but neither has Akaashi, and before he can stop himself Koutarou says maybe someday they can have a pet together.

“I think I’d like that,” Akaashi answers, quiet enough that the words barely hook into Koutarou’s ears.

They circle the entire park twice before Akaashi checks the time and realizes he needs to go to work. They stop beneath the archway that signifies the entrance to the park, and before Koutarou can say anything, Akaashi reaches for his arm.

“I...had a very nice time this morning,” Akaashi says. He isn’t quite making eye contact, and there seems to be a bit of pink on his cheeks. It’s probably just the chilly weather. “Thank you very much for the company.”

“O-of course, Akaashi-san.” 

“You don’t, ah.” The pink color in Akaashi’s face intensifies, and Koutarou realizes with a bit of wonder that it truly is a blush. “You don’t have to use the formal address, if you prefer not to. Since we’ll be married soon.”

Koutarou clears his throat and looks away. “Right. Um, you don’t have to use mine either. If you want. It’s up to you. Akaashi.”

It occurs to Koutarou, far too late, that this permission may mean Akaashi skips right over “Bokuto” and begins to call him “Minako.” Panic flares in him, bright and bursting at the seams, and he begins to babble before he can stop himself.

“But it’s also totally okay if you wanna use it! Bokuto-san is just fine, I’ll answer to that no problem, or Bokuto, or anything is fine really!” Not true, not true, not true! “Okay, so, yes, breakfast good, wedding stuff discussed, I’ll see you sometime, Akaashi-san! Or—um, just Akaashi! Bye!”

He turns and hightails it out of the park before he can possibly embarrass himself anymore.

***

koutarou: oh my god i am such an idiot why do they let me out in public

Koutarou’s been playing and replaying that last scene from the park in his head since he got home. At the very least, he supposes, Akaashi was polite enough to hold in his laughter until Koutarou was out of earshot, but after that it must have been free reign. He’s probably still laughing about it now, hours later, how stupid Koutarou sounded as he panicked and fled. It’s late in the evening, late enough that he’s starting to wonder if either of his friends are going to appear online tonight, when Red’s status finally changes. 

notmatsukawa: I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.
koutarou: REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED im so stupid!!!!!
notmatsukawa: You most assuredly are not. Please explain what you’re referring to.
koutarou: i tried to talk to someone out loud and i sounded like an IDIOT
notmatsukawa: I feel very confident that isn’t true.
koutarou: you weren’t there you don’t know :(
notmatsukawa: Koutarou. You are not stupid, and anyone who’s spoken to you for more than a few minutes knows that to be true.
koutarou: don’t be nice to me i don’t deserve it!

Red is in the middle of responding when Tetsurou appears online. 

tetsutetsu: bro what are you talking about?
notmatsukawa: [screenshot of private messages]
notmatsukawa: He’s insisting he’s stupid again.
tetsutetsu: DUDE WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS
koutarou: IT WAS DIFFERENT THIS TIME I WAS SO DUMB
notmatsukawa: Do you care to explain the circumstances surrounding your supposed display?

Koutarou takes a deep breath as his fingers hover over the keyboard. He can’t tell them everything, but he can tell them some. He’s going to have to tell them eventually, probably. It’s only fair that they have at least a bit of a heads up.

koutarou: i had a kind of...a date?
koutarou : i mean it wasn’t really a date but
koutarou: he’s nice. and really handsome
koutarou: but not as handsome as either of you!!!!
notmatsukawa: Is now the time to observe that you’ve never seen my face?
koutarou: well no but it’s a feeling i just know you’re very handsome
tetsutetsu: you don’t know that he could be quasimodo and we’d be none the wiser
koutarou: ...who’s quasimodo?
tetsutetsu: you UNCULTURED SWINE go watch hunchback of notre dame right now and get out of this server until you can tell me who quasimodo is
koutarou: the last time you told me to leave i just made myself invisible and dmed red until you forgot you’d told me to leave
koutarou: should i do that again?
tetsutetsu: BETRAYAL! BETRAYAL IN ITS HIGHEST FORM!
notmatsukawa: You’re really leaning into the dramatics today, Tetsurou.
tetsutetsu: okay well since you’re not going to educate yourself tell us about this non-date.
koutarou: i can’t tell you a lot because there’s a lot of like, circumstances around it
koutarou: that’s why it doesn’t really count as a date
koutarou: but i guess the important part is that we got along well even if i did make myself look really stupid
tetsutetsu: that’s great dude!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! does he know you’re trans???
koutarou: well…...no
koutarou: he can’t :(
notmatsukawa: Are you sure it’s a good idea to be seeing someone who you can’t trust with even the most basic information about you?
tetsutetsu: red…
koutarou: it’s complicated but
koutarou: like i said it doesn’t really count as a date
koutarou: or as dating
koutarou: and it’s not like i’m gonna fall in love with him
tetsutetsu: well, i’m super happy for you.
koutarou: thanks i guess
notmatsukawa: I am also happy for you, Koutarou. Just...guard your heart carefully. Don’t let him hurt you.

Koutarou’s stomach flips. Red seems...upset, almost, but he can’t figure out why. It’s possible it’s just that he’s trying to protect Koutarou, but it seems like there’s more to it than that, because he’s sure Tetsurou also feels invested in his safety and he didn’t seem upset at all. He chews on his lip. Is it just his own heart projecting feelings where there are none, or is it possible Red is a little jealous?

Against his will, he finds himself smiling, small and secret. It’s fun to pretend, even if it is just his own foolish heart pushing its agenda.

koutarou: i’ll do my best
koutarou: i promise
koutarou: can we play a couple rounds of wherewolf before tetsu has to go?

They play Mystery Monster for an hour or so before Tetsurou has to go and be a person in the real world. Before he can so much as blink, he has a direct message from Red.

notmatsukawa: I’m not sure how exactly I came across earlier. Tetsurou said I seemed unhappy, and I want to assure you that I’m not at all unhappy for you. I’m only concerned for your wellbeing. I care about you very deeply, and so does Tetsurou. We have different ways of showing it. That’s all I meant to convey, and I apologize if that’s not what you understood.

Koutarou rests his forehead on his desk. When he first met Akaashi, he was certain he couldn’t do anything to ever push Red from his heart, and it’s things like this that make him certain his assessment was right. Red is endlessly kind, always trying to make sure he’s understood the right way, always the first to apologize if something is construed incorrectly, always looking out for Koutarou to the best of his ability. He whines softly, wishing he could just thank Red by hugging him instead of having to try to figure out what to say in response.

koutarou: i wasn’t sure what you meant but i knew you didn’t mean anything hurtful
koutarou: but thank you for reaching out and apology accepted but really you didn’t even have to apologize
koutarou: we’re all good <3
notmatsukawa: You are too kind, Koutarou, as usual.
koutarou: i am exactly the amount of kind i should be!!
notmatsukawa: I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree.
koutarou: nope i’m definitely right

It’s then that his phone buzzes. He picks it up, certain it’s his mother texting about some sort of wedding detail he’s disregarded (which reminds him, he needs to let her know about the maroon), except—it’s Akaashi.

>>I wanted to say again that this morning was lovely. Would you like to get together again soon?

Koutarou stares at his phone screen, even as Red types out a message on Discord. He can’t believe Akaashi would want to see him again, but he can’t dispute the hard evidence. It’s probably just because they won’t have a choice in a few weeks, he reasons. He just wants to get used to Koutarou’s silliness now. That has to be it.

<<sure, just say the word!

On his computer, he has a message from Red.

notmatsukawa: I don’t suppose there’s some sort of test for this. Scientifically speaking, I suppose we could experiment…

Koutarou laughs, his heart feeling lighter than it has in a while as he responds.

***

track 05. out of the woods - taylor swift

The next week is a blur. 

Koutarou and Akaashi begin to text at least a little bit every day. Some days, Akaashi is too busy for much more than a good morning, but more often they chat about small things. Koutarou isn’t sure if they’re avoiding the idea of the wedding by design, but Akaashi doesn’t push it on him, and he doesn’t bring it up himself. Instead they talk about their favorite books, movies, and music, their preferred meals, and other things that require very little from Koutarou in terms of emotional energy. He sends a ten text flurry one day when Akaashi asks him about his favorite dog breeds, but before he can send an eleventh to apologize for the word vomit, Akaashi sends pictures to verify that they’re talking about the same breeds. 

It’s easy. Weirdly, pleasantly easy.

His nights are still for Red and Tetsurou. They play Mystery Monster, chat about anything and everything, laugh at each other constantly, and poke fun at Tetsurou at every chance they get. He wishes, as always, that he could be with them in the real world, but it feels more muted than it ever has, since he (sort of) has a friend there, too. 

Between the three of them, it’s almost enough to distract him from the upcoming wedding altogether, but never entirely. His mother calls daily, asking him questions that he never seems to answer correctly. She sends pictures of origami napkins and cake samples and at least thirteen flavors of tea that she wants to serve at the reception. He sighs at each and every one, sending his approval, although it would hardly matter. She’d do what she wanted to whether he did or not.

Koutarou knows the day of the dress fitting is going to be awful, but he doesn’t know exactly what level of awful it will be until he wakes that morning to no fewer than fifteen text messages from his mother. Most of them just detail how excited she is for her “baby girl” to be getting married, but a few of them are reminders to be on time getting downstairs. He sighs as he rolls out of bed, already feeling the need to crawl out of his skin.

He decides it doesn’t much matter what he wears today, so he picks a favorite t-shirt and a pair of jeans and his gold cardigan. Remmu should be downstairs to pick him up soon, so he throws his hair up into a bun and hopes she’s bringing coffee.

She’s already waiting by her car, aviators low on her nose. “Little sister!” she calls.

Koutarou holds in his flinch. “Big sister!” he calls back.

She closes the distance between them and hops up around his waist for a hug. She’s a full thirty centimeters shorter than him, so they’ve been hugging this way for fifteen years now, and Koutarou is well-practiced at catching her. She squeezes him tight before he sets her down.

“How many texts from Mom this morning?” she asks with a grin.

“Fifteen before I was awake and another five since then,” he despairs.

She laughs brightly and hooks her arm in his. “Let’s go knock this out, then.”

He enjoys having the chance to catch up with Remmu on their way to the boutique. She did, in fact, bring coffee, because she is apparently some sort of psychic angel, so he’s able to caffeinate before he has to deal with what he’s afraid might be one of the worst days of his life. At the very least, he supposes, he’s getting to see Remmu. He tries to cling to that one positive thing.

Keiko and his mother are already at the boutique when they arrive, and there are suddenly a lot of crying women in a very small space surrounding Koutarou. He does his best to breathe until they finally release him, and he catches Remmu’s eye behind Keiko’s back. She grins as she links their arms together again.

“Deep breaths, little sister,” she reminds him softly, leaning in to his shoulder. He nods and follows her advice.

His mother insists on parading him around the entire shop to examine every dress before they try anything on, and the slightly overwhelmed shop attendant does her best to talk a bit about each dress before his mother flurries away. Most of it goes over Koutarou’s head. He can’t see himself in a single one of these creations, no matter how pretty they may be. There are a few bridal suits in the back of the shop, which he looks at longingly. The shop attendant, unfortunately, catches him staring.

“Would you prefer a pantsuit?” she asks kindly.

He begins to shake his head, his eyes wide, before his mother all but screeches at her. “Of course she doesn’t want a suit! She wants a dress like every little girl dreams of!”

Koutarou tries not to cry as the shop attendant apologizes profusely. Remmu lets him go long enough to smooth things over between her and their mother before returning to his side.

“Best to just pick a few to start trying on, I think,” she says softly. He nods in agreement.

Everyone grabs a dress or two before they head back to the fitting rooms. The first dress is a ballgown made of satin, fairly plain to begin with, but the attendant assures them that beading or lace or any number of other alterations can be made to enhance the appearance. He tries not to think too much about the size of the skirt and how he’ll probably spend the entire evening tripping over himself if he chooses this one as he’s helped into it.

When Koutarou turns to look at himself in the mirror, he forgets how to breathe. There’s skin showing—so much skin. His breasts feel larger than they’ve ever felt, emphasized by the low cut of the neckline and the complete lack of anything to cover his shoulders. He shakes, feeling like he’s falling apart as he watches himself.

“No,” he whispers, “no, no, this isn’t it.”

“Are you sure?” his mother asks. “Imagine it with a big statement piece for a necklace, or maybe some pearls!”

“No pearls,” he says adamantly, turning back around. “This isn’t it, I know it.”

Remmu works on undoing the clips holding him into the dress while his brain spirals, imagining himself in a dress that’s tighter and tighter and tighter until it squeezes the very life out of him. When the last clip is undone, he all but jumps out of the dress, putting several steps between it and himself and grabbing his sweater off the chair he’d tossed it into. He wraps himself in it and breathes in the fabric. 

His mother and eldest sister are staring at him in silence.

He closes his eyes and does his best to think quickly. He feels more comfortable when he’s more covered, so— “Long sleeves,” he says, doing his best to perk up. “I think that’s what I want, and why that one felt so wrong. I want long sleeves.”

“Long sleeves are nice for autumn weddings,” says the store associate.

Keiko looks doubtful, but his mother claps happily and goes into discussing more detail with the associate. Remmu hangs up the first dress and, with a quick glance in Koutarou’s direction, takes it somewhere away from their fitting room. His mother and the associate disappear as well, and Keiko sits in a chair on the far side of the room from him and takes out her phone. Koutarou’s fingers itch, because he still feels the panic of being in that dress simmering just beneath his skin. He wants Red and Tetsurou to be here. More accurately, he wants to be with one or both of them, hiding far away from dresses and flowers and favors. 

The associate and his mother come back with several more dresses. Koutarou can appreciate their beauty. He can even imagine how nice they would like on a woman who looked exactly like him, if such a woman existed. But the idea of having to wear one of them for hours, to stand in and be looked at and looked at and looked at—it makes him feel nauseous.

He takes in a deep breath, like Red taught him. Grounding, he remembers. He needs to ground himself.

He’s helped into another dress with a low cut like the first but with sheer sleeves. He manages not to have another reaction like his first when he sees himself, but he shakes his head. “Can it be a little higher cut in the front?” he requests.

“Of course,” the associate agrees. She digs through her selections and uncovers a lacy dress with a high neckline. “Let’s try this one, and I have another one I want to go find for you.”

His sisters help him into the dress. It feels a little better going on than the others did. When he looks down, he isn’t greeted by the bare skin of his chest, so that’s an improvement. And his arms are covered almost all the way down to his wrists. 

He turns to face the mirror, shutting his eyes. “I think this is it,” he whispers.

“Are you sure?” his mother asks. “Keiji-kun’s going to have a hard time finding you under all that fabric!”

“I’m sure,” Koutarou says, doing his best to keep his voice even. “This is the one.”

The booth is suddenly filled with the sound of women crying. He’s squeezed into several tight hugs that have him struggling to breathe while his mother babbles on about how she knew this was the one as soon as she saw it. Koutarou covers his face, hiding the way his skin is beginning to get splotchy from panic.

“Oh, Mina, this is perfect! You look beautiful!”

“I know,” Koutarou fibs, realizing too late how conceited it comes across. “Can you stop the shop woman from finding that other dress?”

Keiko and his mother hustle out of the booth to go grab the associate. Koutarou peeks through his fingers and tries to breathe. He’s going to have to get used to seeing himself like this, at least for a day. He runs his hands over the lace that pushes in his stomach, and the tears he’s been holding back all day spill over onto his cheeks.

“Mina?”

Koutarou spins around. He’d forgotten Remmu was in the room. He wipes hastily at his face. “Ah, sorry!” he says, sniffling. “Just...you know, so happy we found the right one.”

Remmu narrows her eyes and steps up to him. “Mina, I know your happy tears. These aren’t happy tears.”

“Sure, they are!” Even more escape from his eyes, and he huffs impatiently at himself. “Why wouldn’t I be happy? It’s perfect, right? Everything’s perfect!”

“Is it?” Remmu asks.

Koutarou opens his mouth, but he finds that he can’t force the lie through his lips again. He turns away from her, looking at himself in the mirror. He can barely see himself through the blur, but what he can see doesn’t even look like him. He’s tucked in, smashed down so that all that’s left is the part of him that’s presentable to the world. That’s not his reflection that he’s looking at. It’s someone else entirely.

He sobs and presses a hand to his mouth. “Remmu…”

Remmu steps onto the dais with him and pushes him over just enough to wrap her arms around him. “Tell me what’s wrong, little sister.”

Koutarou shakes his head violently. “That’s what’s wrong,” he gasps. “I’m not your sister.”

In shaky whispers, with his eyes cast toward the door as he watches for his mother and the others to return, he explains to Remmu that he’s been pretending to be a girl all this time, and that he’s actually trans. Remmu is silent, and Koutarou can’t tell if the hard line of her face is because she’s angry or confused. If she decides to tell the others, his entire world is going to come crashing down right in this dressing room.

“Please,” he whispers at the end. “Please don’t tell Mom.”

She takes his face in both hands. “Thank you for telling me,” she says softly. “For trusting me. Do you have a name you like better than your old one?”

Koutarou’s lip trembles. “K-Koutarou,” he answers.

Remmu nods firmly. “Koutarou. I will love you always, no matter what. And I’m so proud of you for being who you are.”

Koutarou sobs and wraps his arms around her. Remmu holds him close, and that’s how his mother finds them when she returns a few moments later.

“Oh, look!” she exclaims. “She’s overwhelmed with happiness!”

Remmu squeezes him a little tighter before letting go. Her hand drops down to tangle with Koutarou’s. 

“She doesn’t want to ruin the dress with her crying,” Remmu says. “She’d like to take it off so she can save that for the big day, if that’s alright?”

“I’ll go get the tailor right away,” says the associate. “Don’t worry, darling, if anything gets on there we’ll clean it right off.”

She hustles away. Koutarou lets himself be fussed over, but through it all Remmu stands beside him, his hand held steadily in hers. The associate returns with the tailor, and he’s measured a hundred ways while he goes through all the grounding techniques he’s ever read about in the articles Red sent him. 

Finally, finally, he’s allowed to take it off. He throws his clothes back on and wraps his sweater so tightly around himself that he’s probably ruining the fabric, but he can’t help himself. There’s talk of going out to lunch to celebrate, but Remmu quickly cuts it off, saying she and Koutarou already have girls’ day out plans. 

He isn’t sure how they get out of the boutique. One moment he’s slumped on the fitting room bench. The next he’s in Remmu’s car and they’re speeding away. She turns up the radio, and k-pop pounds through the speakers. She doesn’t say anything at all to him, and he slowly comes back to life, unfurling himself from the turtle pose he’d been in.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

She shakes her head. “You don’t need to apologize, Koutarou. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

He sighs and looks out the window. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“Yeah, of course.” She drums her fingers against the wheel. “I did want to spend time with you today, but I understand if you need to go back to your apartment. That was...a lot, even for me.”

“Are you going to be in town again before the wedding?” he whispers.

She shakes her head. “Although Mom’s convinced me to come down a few days early and stay with you so you can’t flake out on her.”

He knew it. “Yeah, that’s okay. Let’s get lunch, but. Not somewhere public.”

“McDonald’s drive-thru. You got it, little brother.”

The tiny change is enough to force some more tears from his eyes, so he stares pointedly away from her and she sings along to BLACKPINK. At McDonald’s, she orders enough nuggets for four people, and they split them like they did when he was young, dunking them into sauces one after the other, trying to find the most delicious or disgusting combinations. He’s laughing by the time they’re gone, and she looks over at him with shiny eyes.

“I know why you don’t want to tell Mom and Dad before the wedding,” she says softly. “But...maybe consider telling them after.”

He shakes his head. “I’d rather have a family that doesn’t know me than no family at all.”

“Koutarou,” she says softly. She reaches over and takes his hands in her own. “I know Mom is pretty clueless a lot of the time, but she really does love you. And so does Dad, even if he’ll never say those words to you. You know how he is.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“They would want to know, I think. Maybe think about giving them a chance?”

Koutarou sighs and tries not to shake. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I can ask.” She lifts his hands to her mouth and kisses them both. “Let’s get you home.”

***

track 06. treacherous - taylor swift

In the safety of his apartment, Koutarou changes into his biggest hoodie and a pair of boxers. He collapses into his bed and finally lets himself sob the way he’s wanted to all day, curling into a tight ball beneath a mountain of blankets. 

He didn’t want to tell Remmu, because the last thing he would want is to disappoint her. But he doesn’t think there’s any way he could ever tell his father he’s trans. And his mother...she might not even know what it means to be trans. She’s probably never heard the term. He can’t risk losing them. It’s not even just his own life riding on his inheritance now. If he loses the connection to the Bokuto name, Akaashi’s father won’t be able to retire. He won’t endanger someone else’s happiness for his own selfishness. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t cry about it. So he does, loud wailing into his pillow until he finally falls asleep. When he wakes a few hours later, he’s aching from the cramped position of his legs and his pillow is drenched with tears and drool.

But at least Red and Tetsurou are online. 

koutarou: hey
notmatsukawa: Good evening, Koutarou. How are you?
tetsutetsu: BROTAROU
koutarou: um...honestly not very good but
koutarou: i don’t wanna bring you guys down
tetsutetsu: pulls up a chair tell us your troubles my dude
notmatsukawa: Nonsense. You know we want to help if we can.
koutarou: there’s really nothing you can do
notmatsukawa: Please, Koutarou. At least let us try?

Koutarou sighs. He isn’t sure what good it’s going to do to tell them, but there’s not really a good way to avoid them now that they’ve asked. Red is one of the more stubborn people he knows. He should have kept it to himself. 

koutarou: i can’t talk a lot about it but
koutarou: my dysphoria was awful today
koutarou: and it’s gonna keep being bad for a long time
koutarou: and i’m just scared because i already feel so bad and i don’t know what i’m gonna do if it gets worse
notmatsukawa: Oh, Koutarou. I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there anything immediate either of us can do to help?
koutarou: no
koutarou: i appreciate it though
tetsutetsu: do you want distraction or do you want to talk about it some?
koutarou: i think i have to talk about it some
koutarou: because i spent a lot of today feeling like i literally couldn’t breathe and like
koutarou: i can’t live like that
notmatsukawa: Would you like some advice, if we can come up with any?
koutarou: yes please

Tetsurou and Red toss ideas back and forth about how to fight dysphoria. Red looks up and sends a few articles, but a lot of them rely on being able to bind or wear loose clothing. Several suggest therapy, which might be an option once he’s married, because he feels pretty certain he can trust Akaashi not to be upset with him for asking for something like that, even if he doesn’t tell him the truth why he wants it. But it isn’t an option now while he’s still under his parents’ name. 

notmatsukawa: What if you did something to combat the everyday feelings so that, on occasions where your dysphoria is particularly strong, it’s not built up as much?
tetsutetsu: i think i know what you’re talking about...
tetsutetsu: like a wardrobe change or something?
notmatsukawa: If your wardrobe is particularly feminine, that might help, yes. I was thinking more along the lines of a haircut. I think I recall you telling us at one point that you have long hair, correct, Koutarou? What if you cut it short?
koutarou: i don’t think my mom would like that very much
koutarou: or my dad for that matter
notmatsukawa: With all due respect, this isn’t about them. This is your life. You have to be in control of it. There are plenty of women with short hair. You, of course, aren’t one, but they can’t tell you that women don’t have short hair, because they do.
tetsutetsu: yeah, i agree. and it will make you feel so much better, kou. at least think about it?
koutarou: i’m scared of making them angry
notmatsukawa: Koutarou, everything you do seems to make at least one of them angry. So you can either choose to do something for yourself, knowing you may upset them, or you keep going along the way you are, feeling dysphoric all the time, and likely burst at some point in the future. 

Koutarou sits with that for a moment. He knows Red is right, but fear still makes him fidget in his seat. 

notmatsukawa: I apologize if I’ve overstepped. I only want your happiness.
koutarou: no no you’re right i was just thinking…
tetsutetsu: hey, this is terrible timing, but dai’s up and we’ve got errands to run today. i love you both but especially you, koutarou. just try to remember this is your life, okay? you gotta live it the way that makes sense for you, not for your parents.
tetsutetsu: be good you two.
notmatsukawa: That seems much more likely without your influence. Goodbye, Tetsurou.
koutarou: bye tetsu love you too

Koutarou opens his private messages with Red. He pauses with his fingers hovering just above the keyboard, his lip caught between his teeth.

koutarou : do you really think i should cut my hair?
notmatsukawa : I really do. I think you’ll feel much more yourself. And if I’m wrong, it will grow back in time.
koutarou : i’m just really worried about what my parents will say…
notmatsukawa : I can always kill them for you.
koutarou : lol no
notmatsukawa : As you know, the offer stands.
koutarou : i wish i could hate them sometimes
notmatsukawa : Families are complicated, Koutarou. Anything is complicated when your heart is involved. I only know the ways they’ve hurt you. You have much more to go on.
koutarou : they love me. i know they do. they just...don’t show it really well i guess
notmatsukawa : I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered telling them you’re trans.
koutarou : no. it’s complicated but...something big is happening soon. i can’t really tell you. sorry :(
notmatsukawa : I will never demand details of your real life. As long as you assure me you’re safe.
koutarou : yeah, i’m safe
notmatsukawa : That is what matters most to me. I know your life leaves you unhappy, but I will continue to do everything in my power to affect that. And to your original point, I think a haircut will, in fact, make you at least a little happier. It’s worth a try.
koutarou : yeah. you’re right. just wish i had you to help cut it, i’ll probably make a mess lol
notmatsukawa : You are assuming a great many things about me. I could be terrible at cutting hair.
koutarou : nah. you’re steady. i know you’d do a great job
koutarou : i’m gonna cut my hair before i second guess myself!
notmatsukawa is typing…

Koutarou brings his phone into the bathroom and shuts the door behind himself. He watches a few videos on Youtube, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he mimes the action of cutting his hair. It doesn’t seem terribly difficult, although he does wish he had someone here to help him. He thinks Remmu would probably help, but she lives all the way in Osaka and won’t be back up to Tokyo until a week before the wedding. He can’t wait that long.

He flips back to his messages with Red. He has half a mind to ask where he lives. Maybe he’s close, maybe they can...well. He doesn’t know. 

But Red’s already messaged him.

notmatsukawa: I believe in you, Koutarou. I believe that you are strong and kind and quite possibly the best man I’ve ever met. There is more love in your heart in this moment than most people can store in their entire beings over a lifetime. You deserve to be seen the way you are. The way I see you. I can only pray that this helps.

Koutarou reads the message over and over, a lump forming in his throat. Red has always had a way with words, but he’s rarely used them to express himself like this. Koutarou can almost feel the warm arms of his friend wrapped around him as he whispers into his ear. It makes him shiver, a pleasant feeling that zips down his spine and all the way to his toes. It makes him brave.

He pulls his hair into a ponytail and loosens it a bit, as the video suggests. He wields the scissors and stares at his reflection in the mirror.

“I am Bokuto Koutarou,” he says to himself. He pictures Red behind him, leaning in the doorway, his head nodding in approval and a smile on his face. “And I am a good man.”

He takes the scissors to his hair.

It takes longer than he expects. He kind of thought he’d chop the ponytail and that would be it, but then his hair is really uneven and he has to make it look decent. It’s certainly not perfect by the time he’s done, but as he looks himself over in the mirror, he can actually see himself in the reflection. His real self, not the daughter he’s pretending to be or the woman Akaashi is expecting to marry. He sees Koutarou, and it feels right .

koutarou: i did it
koutarou: i really did it red
notmatsukawa: I am so proud of you, Koutarou.
koutarou: thank you for pushing me
koutarou: i couldn’t have done it without you
notmatsukawa: I feel fairly confident you could have done it on your own with no problem. You are so strong, Koutarou, so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.

Koutarou shakes his head. He knows it’s not worth it to argue with him, but there is no way he would be the person he is today without Red’s influence. Red, who has been there to (virtually) hold his hand for the last three plus years. Red, who has been nothing but supportive through his whole journey. 

Red, who he loves.

It hits him all at once. Of course he’s known, but it’s one thing to know and another to know . The feelings he has for Red are so much more than just a crush. But really, how could he do anything except fall in love with Red? It’s been inevitable from the moment they met, he thinks. Soulmates brought together by the RNG in a game server. 

He runs a hand through his hair—his short hair!—as he sits with the words heavy in his hands. He doesn’t think he can keep it to himself now that he’s certain, but he doesn’t want to ruin what they have, either.

But he knows Red. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he won’t let this come between them. They’ll make it work. He trusts Red more than he trusts anyone.

He takes a deep breath as he begins to type.

koutarou: i have something i have to tell you
notmatsukawa: You know you can tell me anything, Koutarou.
koutarou: i know. and i trust you. that’s why i’m gonna tell you.
koutarou: just wait until i say i’m done to answer, okay?
notmatsukawa: As you wish.

Koutarou types so quickly his fingers seem like a blur over the keyboard. Or maybe that’s because tears start to fall from his eyes, fat and heavy and dripping onto his hands. He bites his lip and keeps going, because if he doesn’t do this now, he won’t do it at all, and it’s not fair to keep this from Red anymore.

koutarou: okay
koutarou: okay um
koutarou: red i...i’m in love with you.
koutarou: like i’m so in love with you
koutarou: and i’m really scared that telling you will make you want to push me away and i totally get if you don’t want to talk to me anymore now but you have to know
koutarou: i want to meet you and i want to hold your hand and take you on a date and i think i’d spend the rest of my life next to you if you let me
koutarou: and i know we can’t, i know you have life stuff and i have life stuff and maybe it’s just a fever dream but
koutarou: but i couldn’t keep it in anymore
koutarou: that’s it i guess i just
koutarou: don’t hate me, please

Koutarou watches, unblinking, as Red begins to type. Too late he begins to have doubts. Maybe he should have kept it in. Maybe he’s been misreading everything, maybe he should just disappear and give himself to Akaashi entirely, maybe, maybe, maybe—

notmatsukawa: Koutarou, why on Earth would I hate you for falling in love with me?

Koutarou goes to answer, but another message comes through almost immediately.

notmatsukawa: Especially given that I love you, too.

The tears that he’d managed to sort of hold back until now flow freely over his cheeks. He reads the message over and over, trying to make sure he’s not misunderstanding, that Red is really saying what he thinks he’s saying…

koutarou: you do?
notmatsukawa: Perhaps I’m biased, but I think it’s a rare person who could meet you and not fall for you. You are a star, Koutarou. I consider myself grateful to merely bask in your light. But to answer your question more directly, yes. I’ve loved you for some time now. Given our complicated circumstances, I thought it best to keep it to myself.
koutarou: complicated circumstances is a really nice way of putting it
notmatsukawa: Well. I know there are things preventing you from meeting me. Likewise, there are things preventing me from meeting you, from truly knowing you, from loving you the way you deserve.
koutarou: nobody could love me better than you, red. you know my name.

It’s a long few minutes while Red types a response. 

notmatsukawa : As much as I wish things were different, I can do no more than love you from afar, at least for now. I'm sorry.
koutarou: i'm sorry too
notmatsukawa: No matter what happens, believe me when I tell you, Koutarou, that I will always love you. 

Koutarou pinches the bridge of his nose to try to stop the tears, but they keep coming anyway. He chews the inside of his cheek as he responds.

koutarou: i'll always love you too, red. Maybe someday things will be different.
notmatsukawa: I hope you're right.

***

track 07. ivy - taylor swift

He and Red don't log off until Koutarou is literally dozing off in front of his laptop, even though Koutarou has plans to meet up with Akaashi the next day. Red finally makes him go to bed, promising they'll talk more when they're both awake again. Still, he doesn't log on the next morning, even though Koutarou has his laptop open and keeps an eye on it while he gets ready.

For the first time since he met Akaashi, he plucks the baggy jeans from his closet and slips them on. On top he wears a flannel shirt over his binder, and he gels his hair so it spikes up. When he looks in the mirror, he barely recognizes himself. He looks like a man, like he's always wanted to. It is supremely uncool for tears to well up in his eyes, but they do anyway. He blames it on his emotional conversation with Red and his lack of sleep. He hopes Akaashi doesn't mind too much that his eyes are puffy.

He determines he's going to tell Akaashi about Red today. Akaashi is a good man, truly, but he will never be first in Koutarou's heart, and if he truly wants a marriage of equals, as he's asked, then he needs to know, at the very least, that someone has already claimed Koutarou. Then he can decide whether he truly wants this or whether he wants to walk away. The latter possibility is terrifying—he can't imagine the way his father will look if he has to tell him he's broken the engagement—but Akaashi deserves someone who loves him right, and that's never going to be Koutarou.

In an ideal world, he would tell Akaashi that he's trans, too, but he doesn't think he's quite brave enough for that just yet.

He refuses to shake as he waits in the back booth of their cafe. Tsukishima comes over to ask about coffee, but he tells him he’ll get some later. He doesn’t need any more jitters than he’s already got.

“Your haircut looks good, by the way,” Tsukishima says before he goes back to work. “It really suits you.”

Koutarou beams. “Thank you, Tsukki.”

Akaashi is right on time, as always. They lock eyes across the cafe, and Koutarou stands to greet him as he approaches.

“Hello, Akaashi-san,” he says, doing his best to hold his head high.

Akaashi stares at him long enough that he forgets how to breathe. He can hear the cafe customers around them, but nothing they say makes any sense. All he can focus on—all he can see—is the man standing in front of him with his jaw slightly ajar. When Akaashi finally speaks, it’s only to say the one word that he fears more than anything.

“Koutarou.”

Koutarou blinks, unbelieving, as bile rises in his throat. “No...you can’t…”

He can’t get the words to leave his mouth, can’t stop his heart from pounding so uncontrollably that he fears it will beat right out of his ribs. But maybe it’s already gone from his chest. Maybe Akaashi ripped it out and is holding it in his clever hands.

“Koutarou,” Akaashi says again, making him flinch. “Please, let me explain—”

“You can’t know that name!” Because if he does, Koutarou’s two carefully separated worlds will crash into each other and become one, messy and desolate. He’ll be outed to his parents, who will call off the wedding and forbid him from being online anymore—disown him entirely, maybe, and then Tetsu and Red will be too ashamed of him to speak to him anymore—

And so Koutarou does the only thing he can think of to do: he bolts.

“Koutarou, wait!”

But Koutarou doesn’t wait. He can feel countless sets of eyes on him as he careens through the door to the cafe and begins sprinting down the sidewalk. 

He runs through the park where they had their sort-of date, unseeing eyes still cataloguing every spot where they stopped to admire flowers or watch a dog walk by. He remembers every conversation he’s had with Akaashi and wonders how long he’s known. How did he find out? How could he possibly know? How much of everything he’s ever said has been a lie?

Koutarou ducks into an alley and presses his palms against the tops of his thighs, fighting for breath. He's not meant to exercise in his binder, and he feels incredibly light-headed—

In his pocket, his phone buzzes. 

He fumbles for it, doing his best to breathe deeply and remain calm. He can't have a panic attack on top of everything else or he will pass out right here, and then there will be some sort of scandal— Bokuto daughter found unconscious, wearing transgender binder! He fights to clear his head and look at his phone.

It's a Discord call. From Red.

They've never voice chatted before. His voice is too distinctive, he can't risk it, so why—how does he know how badly Koutarou needs him right now?

He accepts the call.

"Red," he says. He's a little shocked by how shaky his voice sounds. "What's going on? Why are you—"

"Koutarou!" exclaims the voice on the other side of the call. "Koutarou, where did you go? Are you alright? Please, come back and let me explain—"

With a chill, Koutarou realizes that this isn't the voice of Red—it's the voice of Akaashi Keiji. 

"How did you get this contact information?" he shouts into the phone. "Why did you hack his account? Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"I didn't hack anything, Koutarou, listen to me. I am notmatsukawa. I'm Red."

Koutarou presses his back against the wall of the building behind him just to feel something solid, because everything else is collapsing in around him. "No," he argues, "no, you can't possibly be Red."

"I am," Akaashi answers. "Please, tell me where you are, let me talk to you in person."

"No!" Koutarou yells. "No, don't try to find me!"

"Koutarou." Akaashi's voice is calm and steady, somehow, like an anchor in a storm. But he's the one who caused the storm, and Koutarou grits his teeth. "Koutarou, it's okay. You're safe with me. I will never do anything you don't give me permission to do. Please trust me when I tell you I care about you very deeply and I only want your happiness."

Koutarou whimpers. "If that were true, you wouldn't be marrying me."

Akaashi sighs. "Please forgive me. That conversation is the only lie I've ever told you."

"What do you mean?" Koutarou finds himself asking.

"I told you I agreed to the arranged marriage because my father wants to retire, which is true," Akaashi says. Koutarou takes long, even breaths as he listens. "And I will be glad when he can return to Miyagi and live out the rest of his life at my mother's side. She has been very lonely with both of us here in Tokyo. But there is another reason I agreed to an arranged marriage. I could never get married legally in Japan, or at least I didn't think so until recently. I'm gay, Koutarou. My parents know this about me and would never have asked me to change any part of myself, but when our fathers began to talk about the business merger, I offered myself as a final token of goodwill. At the very least, I thought, I could provide for a wife, even if I couldn't love her the way she deserved."

"But...you would have been stuck with someone you didn't love forever," Koutarou mumbles.

"I thought I might grow to love you, at the very least in a platonic sense," Akaashi continues. "And I had no qualms about letting you see other men as often as you liked."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Ah." Akaashi sighs again. "I hadn't decided yet, truth be told. I was so scared of letting you down. There was something so genuine about you that from the moment we met I could tell you were remarkable."

"Genuine," Koutarou repeats in disbelief. "But I've been lying to you about who I am all this time."

"For your own safety," Akaashi says. "I could hardly hold that against you if I tried."

Koutarou runs a hand through his hair, forgetting that it's sticky with gel. He laughs to himself when he comes away with his hand slightly blue. It seems too good to be true, that his father would happen to arrange his marriage to the only person he would want to marry. The world doesn't work like that, not in real life. 

"You can't be him," Koutarou says. "It's...it's impossible."

"Koutarou," Akaashi says again. "Where are you?"

Koutarou looks up at the street signs nearby and lists them monotonously. There's a moment of quiet before Akaashi laughs. 

"Would you believe I'm only a block away," he says. "Stay there, I'm coming to you."

Koutarou's stomach twists. The urge to run burns in the soles of his feet, but he plants them instead. Akaashi deserves a chance. He's said that from the beginning.

"Akaashi-san." Koutarou takes a deep breath. "If I decide I don't believe you, what will you do?"

Akaashi is silent for a moment. Koutarou can hear his footsteps on the pavement and counts them out. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen—

"I suppose I'll keep trying to convince you," he replies. "Unless you ask me to leave you in peace. I'll honor that, of course. I don't know how I would explain it all to Tetsurou."

"I don't know how to explain any of this to him, anyway," Koutarou says. "That's what I'm so scared of. This can't possibly be happening."

"Because it's too good to be true?" Akaashi questions.

"Yes."

Akaashi steps into the alley, phone still held to his ear. He approaches slowly, like he's waiting for Koutarou to bolt. But Koutarou is done running.

"Love has a way of bringing people together through the most unlikely of circumstances." Koutarou hears each word twice, once through his phone and once from Akaashi himself. Akaashi hangs up, slipping his phone into his pocket. Koutarou looks down at his screen, where Discord displays notmatsukawa and the time of their call. He looks back up at Akaashi. "Sometimes, it seems, we just have to give it a chance to find us."

"Prove it," Koutarou whispers, his voice shaking. "Prove you didn't just steal Red's phone."

Akaashi looks lost for a moment, but then he sets his jaw as he holds Koutarou’s gaze. "Vampire Vex is your least favorite mini game in Mystery Monster," he says. 

"You could have just guessed that," Koutarou accuses.

"I have more," Akaashi presses on. "Your favorite color is gold, but I didn't know until now that it's the same color as your eyes. You were on your high school volleyball team, the ace, but your parents made you give it up. Our best friend is a blackjack dealer in San Francisco who is the most terminally annoying person I've ever dealt with, but we both love him all the same. You used to go by OWLBOY45 because your favorite animal is owls and you tried four different names before you found Koutarou. I knew it was the right name as soon as you told us because you'd never been so excited about one up until then."

Koutarou swallows. He's right, everything he's saying is right, but it still feels too hard to believe. How could Red and Akaashi possibly be the same person? Red never said anything about being engaged or moving to Tokyo...but then, neither did Koutarou. They didn't share real life details. Only the important things. 

"Last night," Akaashi continues, taking a step closer to Koutarou. "Last night I encouraged you to cut your hair and you did it. I wanted so badly to ask for your picture but I didn't, and you told me you were in love with me. I told you I was in love with you, too, and I am, Koutarou. I am in love with you. Please...please believe me."

Koutarou breathes in deep and forces it back out through his lungs. "If you really are Red...then how is it possible we found each other twice?" he asks. "Most people don't even get one chance at finding their soulmate. How come we got two?"

Akaashi reaches out and takes Koutarou's hands in his own. Koutarou looks down at where they're joined. Akaashi's fingers are longer than his own, but they fit together perfectly. 

"I don't know," Akaashi answers. "Maybe the fates really want us to be together."

Koutarou closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, Akaashi is still standing in front of him. It's all real. 

"I really want us to be together, too," he breathes.

Akaashi bites his lip, but then a smile larger than any Koutarou has ever seen him wear grows over his face. "Koutarou," he murmurs. 

Koutarou throws his arms around Akaashi’s neck and pulls him close, finally kissing him the way he’s wanted to for—well. The timeline is all wibbly-wobbly now, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that Akaashi runs a hand up through his close cropped hair as they kiss and holds him at the nape of his neck. What matters is that even though Koutarou’s still a little breathless from running, he doesn’t pull away from Akaashi until he absolutely has to, and even then it’s only for a moment before diving back in. What matters is that Akaashi—his Red—is here , in his arms, because the world is somehow small enough for them to find each other twice over.

“Red,” he says, leaning his forehead against his. “Akaashi, will you marry me?”

Akaashi laughs softly, his hand pressing flat against Koutarou’s chest, fingers tangling in the fabric of his flannel. “We’re already getting married, Koutarou.”

“I know, but. I just wanted to ask. I want it to mean more than just our father’s businesses joining. I want to spend the rest of my life with you on purpose.”

Akaashi smiles, and their noses brush. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you on purpose, Bokuto Koutarou. I will marry you.”

Koutarou can’t help but kiss him again, wrapping him in a hug as he does. Akaashi laughs when his feet leave the ground, and it’s the most beautiful sound Koutarou’s ever heard. 

He can’t wait to hear it for the rest of his life.

***

track 08. i’m with you - vance joy

The weeks leading up to the wedding are far from perfect. 

Koutarou still deals with daily bouts of dysphoria, with his parents and sister misgendering him, with his mother talking over him about the wedding whenever he voices an opinion. It's frustrating, and he still looks at that date in his Google calendar with dread in his stomach and bile in his throat.

But some things—a lot of things—are a lot better. 

Akaashi starts coming home to Koutarou's apartment after work, and instead of having to wait for him to get online, Koutarou can greet him at the door with a kiss. They eat dinner together every night. He learns quickly that Akaashi is a terrible cook, and they make plans to start teaching him simple meals once they're past the wedding. Koutarou catches him looking at homes outside the city on his laptop one evening and feels like he can't breathe in the best way.

Given the total lack of anonymity between the two of them, and the fact that Tetsurou has never been terribly concerned with Internet safety in the first place, they decide to share their names and faces with him as part of their retelling of how they're finally together. They video chat him, and both Koutarou and Tetsurou cry when they see each other on their screens. Tetsurou continues to cry as Koutarou tells him the story of how they’ve unintentionally been courting each other both online and in real life. He shouts and fist pumps when Akaashi leans in to kiss Koutarou on the cheek, realizing too late that it’s five in the morning his time. Koutarou and Akaashi also finally get to meet Daichi, although their first glimpse of him is little more than his bare ass in frame for only a few seconds as he walks behind Tetsurou.

"You on a call?" he asks a moment or two later as Akaashi and Koutarou gape at the screen.

"Yeah," Tetsurou affirms with a smirk. "I think Kou and Keiji like your butt."

Daichi groans in the background. Akaashi shakes his head.

"How did you land such a nice...I mean, he has a very handsome...face."

"You didn't see his face, liar!" Tetsurou cackles.

Koutarou places a reverent hand on his chest. "I'll say it for both of us. Goddamn, that is a beautiful ass. Well done, Tetsu."

Koutarou’s favorite moments are the ones late at night, long after Tetsurou’s gone out into the real world and they’ve closed their laptops and crawled into bed together. They talk in quiet whispers about a future they get to decide, their fingers tangled together in the scant space between them. They explore each other’s bodies, finding every spot that makes the other gasp with pleasure, going slow because they have all the time in the world. They hold each other after, sweat plastering the hair to their foreheads as they kiss until they both drift off to sleep. He never thought he’d have a partner who cared so much about his needs. He never thought he’d get a chance to love someone this hard.

The weeks wind themselves down in a haze of what Koutarou considers a surprising amount of happiness. He still dreads the wedding, but the marriage, he knows now, is going to be spectacular. It’s just one day that he has to endure, and then they can get on with the rest of their lives.

Koutarou decides to keep the whole thing a surprise from Remmu until she arrives a few nights before the wedding and finds Koutarou and Akaashi curled up together on the couch. She stares at them in confusion until Akaashi stands and introduces himself and thanks her for everything she’s done for Koutarou all these years. Then she bursts into tears and hugs a very startled Akaashi. Koutarou comes over to sandwich him between them.

“Is this a Bokuto thing?” he asks, his voice muffled by Remmu’s shoulder.

“We get it from our mother,” Koutarou affirms.

They talk late into the night, and although Akaashi is allowed to stay that night, Remmu kicks him out the next evening. “You guys can bang on your honeymoon!” she declares, much to Koutarou’s embarrassment.

The night before the wedding finds his mother and sisters descending upon his apartment. He’s hidden away his binders in the back parts of his closet where he’s fairly confident they won’t venture, but he still feels a little miserable as he sits on his bed and watches them toss every piece of clothing he owns onto the floor.

“We really should have bought something just for the occasion,” his mother says.

“I think you’re overthinking it,” Remmu says. “Why not the floor length floral?”

“Because she wears it every time we go out .”

Koutarou huffs and falls back onto his bed, pulling out his phone to text Akaashi. 

<<please save me I don’t want to do this

>>Aren’t you looking forward to seeing me? I’ve missed you.

<<of course i’ve missed you too :( but you don’t have to wear a dress

>>Would you like me to wear a dress in solidarity?

<<i wish
<<my dad would freak out
<<but your butt is gonna look so nice in your suit…

>>I am glad to know that you’ll only be looking at my butt this evening. That does reduce the pressure on the rest of my appearance.

<<yep butts only
<<i think they picked something gotta go love you

Remmu is holding up a shimmery gold piece, one that he’d sort of forgotten he had. It’s floor length, and although it’s technically sleeveless, the straps are thick across his shoulders. It’s not half bad, all things considered.

He nods to her. “Looks good to me.”

She almost looks surprised at his acquiescence, but she hands it to him and leaves him in peace. Once it’s on, she returns alone. He can hear Keiko and his mother talking about some last minute catering emergency in the living room, but Remmu leads him to the bathroom and brushes his hair.

“I’ve got something for you,” she says. “I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but it’ll make Mom really happy if you wear something in your hair.”

“She was surprisingly calm about the fact that I cut it in the first place,” he replies. “Do your worst.”

She leaves and returns with a simple gold crown that rests on his head. It’s...feminine, but he doesn’t mind it. He can still see himself when he looks in the mirror.

“Yeah,” he says, taking a deep breath. “This is okay.”

“I know it’s not what you want to be wearing,” Remmu says. She takes one of Koutarou’s hands in her own. “But you do look nice. And I still love your haircut.”

“Thank you,” he replies. “It’s helped a lot with my dysphoria. Even trying on the wedding dress wasn’t that bad.”

“Just one day, right?”

He nods. “I can do anything for a day.”

Remmu smiles. “Have you thought any more about telling Mom and Dad?”

Koutarou sighs. He has. He’s thought about it a lot. His dad said nothing at all about his haircut, but Koutarou knows his face well enough to know he wasn’t happy. His mother, however, smiled at him, even if it hadn’t quite reached her eyes.

“It looks lovely,” she’d said. “And I bet it’s much less heavy, huh? Must be so much more comfortable!”

He and Akaashi had talked about it at length. At the end of the discussion, they’d both agreed on one thing: it comes down to safety. He doesn’t think his mother will do anything to hurt him, even if she is upset. So it’s really all up to him.

“I’m scared,” he confesses to Remmu. “I don’t want her to be angry with me.”

“Do you really think she’ll be angry with you for being yourself?” Remmu asks. “Dad...he’s gonna take some time. I get that. But I think Mom is gonna be okay. Really.”

Koutarou bites his lip. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“No pressure, little brother.” She reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You look hot as hell and Akaashi’s gonna devour you if he gets you alone.”

“Remmu!” he cries, pushing her away as she squeals with laughter.

They get a limo to ride over to the rehearsal dinner. Koutarou sends a selfie to Tetsurou before leaving his phone at home, which means he has nothing to fidget with in the car. Remmu takes his anxious hands as she talks to Keiko.

“Look at you,” his mother says. “Our Mina, all grown up.”

“I’ve been grown up,” Koutarou protests, but they all dote on him just the same.

Akaashi is waiting outside the venue for him. He’s in a black suit with a gold tie to match his outfit (that has to have been Remmu’s doing) and he takes two huge steps to close the distance between them when Koutarou steps out of the car.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers into Koutarou’s ear. “You are iridescent, as always, but are you alright?”

Koutarou nods, finding that he really means it. He’s still a man, no matter what he’s wearing on his body. “I’m just fine,” he says, linking their fingers together.

The rehearsal goes according to plan, and dinner is delicious. Koutarou hadn’t been lying when he’d said his mother knew what she was doing when it came to planning events. The whole evening is a well-oiled machine, and his mother shines at the center of it all. 

It’s what makes him certain that it’s safe to tell her the truth.

Near the end of the night, he finally finds a moment alone with her. She’s watching the guests on the dance floor with a fond look in her eye, a mostly empty glass of champagne in her hands. Koutarou kisses Akaashi on the cheek and goes over to her before he can lose his nerve.

“Do you think we could talk for a minute?” Koutarou asks.

His mother must see something in his eyes, because her smile fades, just a little. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break my heart, Mina,” she says, a hint of a hopeful laugh in her voice.

“I’m not calling off the wedding, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Well, come on then.”

She links their arms together and they walk out into the evening. It’s cool enough that Koutarou wishes he had a sweater with him, but he’ll make do. They sit on a bench in the garden and his mother holds both his hands.

“What is it?” she asks.

Koutarou looks her in the eyes for the first time in a long time. She loves him, he remembers. She might not understand him, but she does love him. And maybe he can work on her understanding.

“Do you...know what it means to be transgender?” he asks.

She cocks her head. “I think so,” she says. “It’s...it’s when someone’s born a boy but they pretend to be a girl, or vice versa.”

“Ah, not quite,” Koutarou says, wincing. “It’s more like they’re born with the wrong set of parts. If you’re trans, you’re what you think you are no matter what they say you are when you’re born. Does that make sense?”

She nods slowly. “What does this have to do with…?”

Koutarou swallows. “The thing is...I’m transgender.”

There’s a long, long moment of quiet. Inside, there are people laughing, talking, dancing. Out here, it’s just Koutarou and his mother staring at each other. Koutarou doesn’t even dare to breathe.

Finally she speaks again. “So...you really did want a suit?” she asks softly.

Koutarou nods as small as he can. “But it’s okay,” he says quickly. “We don’t need to change anything about tomorrow. I’m not ready to come out to anyone yet, not really. Remmu knows, and Akaashi, but that’s it.”

“Keiji-kun knows this? And he’ll still marry you?” 

“Yeah.” Koutarou smiles. “Yeah, he’ll still marry me. He loves me, Mom.”

She sniffs, wiping at her eye as discreetly as she can manage. “You can wear a suit if you really want. We can find one tonight.”

Koutarou watches her for a moment, waiting for the laughter to come, but it doesn’t. He claps a hand to his mouth.

“You’re not angry?”

“Minako.” She takes his face in both hands. “I love you, too. I’m not sure I understand, but we can talk about it more. You can teach me. But tell me something. Are you happy?”

Koutarou thinks back over the last few weeks, and even before that. The wedding planning has been overwhelming, but when it’s all said and done, it’s just one day. Akaashi has always been a source of happiness. Now they’re going to be together forever. He nods.

“I’m happy,” he answers. “I’m really happy.”

“Then I’m happy, too,” she answers.

He pulls her into a hug, squeezing her a little too tight. The weight dissipates from his chest. There are still so many things he has to do before he can truly be himself, but this is such a huge step, and he didn’t stumble. His mom still loves him. Everything’s going to be okay.

“Do we need to go find a suit?” she asks.

“You’re sure it isn’t too late to find one?”

She shakes her head, pulling back and wiping the tears away from his face before she wipes away her own. “If you think it’s too late for me to pull that off, you don’t know your mom as well as you think you do. Let’s go find Remmu and Keiko.”

She stands and offers him her hand. When he takes it, he feels stronger than he’s ever felt.

***

track 09. starlight - taylor swift

“Do you, Keiji, take Koutarou to be your lawfully wedded husband…”

The words echo in Koutarou’s unhearing ears. Akaashi looks incredible today, somehow even more impeccable than he did at their first wedding in a perfectly tailored black suit with a lavender tie and a boutonniere of sunflowers attached to his pocket. Koutarou’s in black as well with a mint tie and his own matching sunflowers. There’s no one here to witness them except Tetsurou, who’d flown in from San Francisco to pretend to be their officiant for the day, and his husband Daichi, who’s armed with a huge camera. Koutarou had burst into tears when they’d stepped off the plane. Tetsurou’s hair had been every bit as messy as the selfies he’s sent them over the years, and Koutarou had gotten to run his hands through it like he’s always wanted and tease him. They’d hugged , hugged long enough that Daichi and Akaashi had to politely clear their throats until Koutarou finally pulled away. Tetsurou cried, too.

“I do,” says Akaashi, and it’s not the words but the gentle squeeze of his hands that brings Koutarou back to the moment.

Tetsurou turns to Koutarou. “Do you, Koutarou, take Keiji to be your lawfully wedded husband—”

“I do,” Koutarou agrees, his face splitting into a smile.

Akaashi laughs softly. “You have to let him finish, Koutarou.”

“Damn, he’s really trying to get to the end, huh?” Tetsurou says, elbowing Akaashi, who rolls his eyes.

Koutarou tries to listen—he really does. But he can’t stop staring at Akaashi, taking in those beautiful blue eyes and that radiant little smile. He’s breathtaking, and Koutarou can’t believe they get to spend the rest of their lives together.

“Now would be the time to say I do,” Tetsurou prompts.

“I do,” Koutarou says.

“Well, that’s about all I’ve got.” Tetsurou closes his folder. “There is absolutely no power vested in me whatsoever but you guys get to be husbands anyway. Congratulations, please make out.”

Koutarou laughs as he pulls Akaashi in. “I love you,” he murmurs against Akaashi’s lips.

“I love you,” Akaashi agrees. “But I think he told us to kiss.”

“I can do that,” Koutarou says.

The sun is setting over the pond as their mouths meet. In the distance, there are children laughing as they swing on the playground, and the stars are just beginning to twinkle overhead. Koutarou can’t imagine an evening more perfect.

And it’s only just the beginning.