Chapter Text
With the way Tatsuya freezes when he notices Katsuya, he hadn’t planned to run into anyone tonight. Katsuya feels a touch of guilt, as always when it comes to his headstrong younger brother. It’s clear he’s made mistakes across the years, and trying to fix them has only ever brought Tatsu-chan more pain.
He should ask if he should leave, if Tatsuya wishes to be with his own thoughts, but what actually comes out is, “Are you hurting? Should I summon a nurse?”
Flick, flick. As if Katsuya himself is the source of anxiety, as if his presence hurts his brother. Though ‘as if’ are not the words, are they? And then Tatsu-chan shakes his head definitively, but offers no further expansion on the thought.
Katsuya had been arrogant enough to think he’d made a breakthrough, in their last two conversations. Right now, in this moment, he sees he couldn’t be further from the truth, because he has no idea how to approach this situation, or what Tatsuya is thinking.
“I want to offer an ‘I’m sorry’ cake, but you don’t like my cooking, do you?” he jokes weakly, only Tatsuya actually considers that silently.
“They were never just cakes,” he responds, which is a success that catches the policeman off guard. He doesn’t feel like he’s earned it.
Of course, it’s also a confession that means very little on the face of it. “I don’t understand.” It feels like an unforgivable mistake, saying so, but perhaps things might have been better if he’d said so previously.
“It was always ‘what are you doing up so late’, or ‘where were you yesterday’, or…” Tatsu-chan shrugs helplessly. “I know you baked them with love, so more than anything I wanted them to just be cakes.”
Katsuya is hardly as adept at emotions as his wife, but he correctly deduces this is no more about the cakes than their other conversation had been about motorcycles. If there’s any sign that, no matter his status as a human, this is still his brother, he’s found it. “Well, perhaps next time I won’t add guilt, judgment, and anxiety.” That joke actually lands, Tatsuya swiftly meeting his gaze, confusion actually showing on his features, before he smirks.
“That might be a cake worth eating, then.” And it’s been years since Tatsuya has shown such a personal interest in anything, other than possibly the motorcycles.
Katsuya has to take advantage of this. “Are you hungry right now?”
The flat look his brother levels at him is entirely unimpressed, but he does actually elaborate, rather than making Katsuya guess what he’s done wrong this time. “Somehow I doubt there’s an open kitchen that would welcome you at one in the morning.”
...Oh. Yes. That is an important thing to overlook, isn’t it. Katsuya coughs, embarrassed. Still, he doesn’t want to end this there. “...At the risk of ruining the absence of a cake, why aren’t you sleeping?”
Tatsu-chan weighs answering honestly, but apparently decides it’s worthwhile. For once. “I do my best thinking at night. Jun, of course, is a morning person.”
Honestly, that had been part of the reason he’d insisted his brother actually talk to Jun again. The two were pining for each other. They deserve to be happy.
“Are you dating again, then?” He doesn’t particularly want to pry as to the details, but he does want to know.
Tatsu-chan coughs, blushing bright even in the dim hospital lighting. “I’ll tell you what I told Lisa—if he’ll still have me, yes.”
As if that’s even a question. “Our conversations are mostly only about you. I don’t think you ever have to worry about that.”
“Hmm.” Flick, flick.
Katsuya feels the urge to keep talking and fill the space. Instead, he forces himself to stop, walking over to one of the lobby chair, and after a moment, his brother comes and joins him. He’s quiet, still, but if Katsuya’s not imagining things, he seems happy. (Of course they then fall asleep and get a scolding from the nurse once they’re located, but Katsuya is not about to apologize for actually establishing a pattern of friendly conversations, and it’s hard to tell what, exactly, Tatsu-chan’s opinion is on the matter given his emotionless stare. The nurse drops the line of interrogation.)