Thoughts about his new housemate faded from Tamaki's mind as he delved deeper into his own life, almost forgetting he had one. During his first evening in the new place, a lengthy group call with his family stirred familiar concerns, especially from Kumiko Yamamoto. Her worry lingered in a way that Tamaki hadn't entirely grown accustomed to, despite sharing a roof with her for over a decade. It was as if she feared that Tamaki would suddenly up and vanish from their lives.
As if he could bring himself to do that after all that family had done for him.
It didn't matter. Tamaki would take as long as needed to convince all of them, his foster mother especially, that they were stuck with him. Perhaps even as long as it had taken him to finally understand how much they wanted him around.
Masaru Yamamoto, his foster father, always seemed to sense when the family's affection overwhelmed Tamaki, expertly diffusing such situations. While these occurrences were now rare compared to when they'd just taken him in, Tamaki remained grateful for Masaru's interventions when emotions ran high.
On the other hand, Tamaki's friends didn't worry as much about his move. As far as they were concerned, the guy was already an adult who probably needed all the freedom he could get. After all, who the hell knew all the freaky shit he got up to at his big age.
"And when do the sleepovers start?" a lazy drawl echoed from the cellphone placed on the counter, on speaker. It belonged to one of his best friends, Mitsuri Fujita, who was pleasant to be around if one knew her, but certainly didn't look as approachable if they didn't. "You stay much closer to me now. And you said there was an extra room."
Tamaki, busy adding ingredients to a pot, paused before responding. "Can't really start inviting people over before chatting with the person I'll be sharing space with, you know."
"As if he'll care." She certainly didn't.
And Tamaki could only give a little snort at that. He still hadn't met his housemate, and he wasn't sure if it would happen sooner or later. Whether or not that was a good thing was yet to be seen. He certainly hadn't tried to contact the guy after yesterday.
"He might," he responded.
Shuffling sounds came from Mitsuri's end as she continued, "Maybe he's not around much. You mentioned he wasn't there when you first saw the place."
"Still..."
"Yeah, yeah, talk to him or whatever," Tamaki was a little relieved she gave up easily, though perhaps he'd relaxed too soon, since he winced at her next words. "We're definitely hitting leg day tomorrow morning though. I'll swing by your apartment at six."
He couldn't back out even if he wanted to. Idiot move, giving her his new address and everything. "You don't have to hound me, your directions to the gym were very clear," he chuckled. "I'll meet you there, Mitsuri."
They chatted a while longer, her curiosity piqued about his decisions regarding his part-time work. Nearly nine months in, he had no plans to call it quits anytime soon. Juggling work with his upcoming thesis project might make things busier, but he found comfort in the cozy atmosphere of Hikari Hollow, a modern escape tucked into a narrow side street off the bustling Nagoya Station area. The camaraderie with his colleagues, the decent pay, and the added perk of it being his go-to hang-out spot with friends for post-week drinks made it all the more appealing. As one of the bartenders, he and his crew enjoyed discounts and the occasional freebies.
Admittedly, the insecure part of him felt a secret relief for him in not having to constantly rely on the Yamamoto family if he had his own money on hand. It was an unspoken understanding; one he suspected they quietly acknowledged.
Adjusting his shifts to accommodate classes and study time became a necessity, opting for post-school hours. Despite being the youngest on the team, his boss and coworkers graciously allowed him the flexibility he needed. It also helped that they liked him well enough and understood the pressures that came with being a college senior.
"Oh, Kunihiro's going through his sad chicken phase again," Misturi mentioned later, almost as an afterthought. "He didn't want us to know though."
Tamaki let out a resigned sigh. His good-hearted friend was a magnet for trouble. "Same old story?"
"Isn't it always?"
Kunihiro Tanaka was too kind for his own good. Tamaki really didn't like seeing his friend being treated like garbage by a woman who was clearly undeserving of him. He and Mitsuri and said as much, warning their friend about said woman, but had received a three month-long cold shoulder for their efforts. That had been a year and a half ago. It was only after their friend finally understood that they were only trying to look out for him, that he'd reluctantly started to listen. Or tried to.
"She's just going through something. She'll come around eventually. I just hope I can be the reason for that," Kunihiro had explained steadfastly after their reunion. One year later, that bitc— oh, pardon the language— that skank still hadn't changed.
Tamaki and Mitsuri had lost the heart to tell their friend that people like that simply didn't change. They could only rant amongst themselves. Mitsuri, in particular, held nothing back. Both boys had quickly learned that it was a bad idea to leave Kunihiro's girlfriend alone in a room with Mitsuri.
"I'll... talk to him," Tamaki offered tentatively, a move that earned him a loud, disgruntled click of the tongue from the other end of the line.
"Don't, we know the ritual. That idiot will wallow in self-pity over drinks on Friday, get absolutely plastered and temporarily forget his problems,only to repeat the cycle once he's sober," the woman seethed before suddenly muttering, "Frankly, I'm tired of his shit."
Tamaki felt a little bewildered. Of course, they got dissatisfied and disappointed by their friend's actions, but it was never this direct anger towards him, only on his behalf. "Hey, don't be like that," he interjected softly, feeling powerless since these emotions weren't his own. In the end, all he could manage was a cautious, "It'll get better. Just let him…"
Let him what? Grow out of it? Lose interest himself? At the rate they were going, Kunihiro didn't seemed inclined to leave his girl, no matter how many times she strayed while constantly making it seem as if it was his own fault.
And Mitsuri had known Kunihiro far longer than Tamaki had. They hadn't been close friends or anything, but they'd attended the same middle school, high school, up to university and could actually be regarded as acquaintances. They'd only ended up as close as they were now only because of their mutual befriending of Tamaki. Still, knowing someone for that long and watching them get horribly treated would probably make one feel some complicated type of way. And Mitsuri was no exception.
"I really do hate her, you know. For making him feel like this," she confessed in a hushed tone that Tamaki might have missed if he wasn't paying attention. Mitsuri, whose interest leaned typically on women and hadn't an ounce of interest in men, harbored a genuine, unapologetic disdain for Kunihiro's partner.
"Mm," was all Tamaki could offer in response.
They didn't dwell on the topic any longer.
**
Nearly a week had slipped by without so much as a glimpse of his elusive housemate. Tamaki had swiftly shelved thoughts of the mysterious individual, his focus consumed by the whirlwind of school, work, friends, and family, and certainly not people who couldn't quite master the art of responding to texts (yes, Tamaki was still a little bitter about that). He'd completely pushed the person at the very back of his mind, that when the meeting did finally happen, it took Tamaki completely by surprise.
Thursday evening found Tamaki Ogawa in an exhausted slump as he dragged his feet to his apartment. His 7 to 11 o'clock shifts didn't usually affect him, but today had already been a tiring day with him having ran all over campus in preparation for tomorrow's robotics exam, fully aware that he wouldn't be able to crack open a book post-shift. He could only feel grateful that the test would be in the afternoon, giving him ample time to wrap up on whatever he could the next morning.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he belatedly registered another figure in the corridor, standing solitary with one hand nonchalantly tucked in a pocket, leaning against the wall opposite Tamaki's front door. Their attention was solely on the cellphone they held. The stranger's wardrobe looked casual, though it was probably anything but, judging by the luxury brand of his beige jacket which hinted at a different reality. He was clad in a black sweater underneath, matching dress pants, and pristine white sneakers untouched by even a speck of dirt (did they walk the same streets??). Perched on his head were a pair of dark shades, which Tamaki had been curiously staring at before the stranger's head suddenly shifted, dark gaze meeting his own.
Tamaki felt his mouth inexplicably dry up.
Pale skin made the man before him look ethereal, smooth without hints of blemish. A long face, a straight nose, and a sharply defined jawline framed by almond-shaped eyes with a subtle, alluring upturn—these features painted a picture of a stranger exuding natural intensity and allure. Dark chestnut hair, gracefully parted in the middle to frame his face with flowing curtain bangs, revealed a smooth forehead and impeccably groomed dark brows that seemed almost too perfectly shaped to be natural, drawing closer together the longer Tamaki stared. And those eyes... There was something about them that completely—
"Need help taking a picture?"
Those words snapped him right back to reality, and Tamaki's face immediately grew hot. He'd been staring and he'd been caught. He hadn't even tried being subtle about it, fuck!
With an awkward smile and nod in greeting, which the stranger definitely didn't return, Tamaki focused on fishing out his keys from his bag with said stranger standing right behind him. It just had to be at a time like this that his keys decided to play a little game of hide and seek.
"Do you usually get home this late?" the stranger's question momentarily threw Tamaki off guard. His delayed response seemed to deepen the handsome stranger's scowl, leaving the twenty-two-year-old even more bewildered.
"No, I," Tamaki started belatedly, wondering why he felt the need to justify himself, but the words spilled out nonetheless. "I had work. It lets out a little late."
The stranger nodded in understanding but remained silent, adjusting his posture away from the wall and patiently awaiting Tamaki to unlock the door.
"Are you… looking for someone?" Tamaki found himself asking. It really was to just pass time as he searched for— aha! Finally found those keys.
"Yeah, you."
Oh, uh… Tamaki blinked, turning to face the person behind him. "Why?"
The stranger regarded him as if he were conversing with someone particularly slow. A subtle sneer played on his lips, far from a smile. "Because I can't get into my apartment and you're the only other person who has the same key."
Tamaki's eyes widened very slightly as he gave the other guy another blatant once over, subtlety be damned. Oh, so this was the other tenant. He'd been starting to think the guy didn't exist.
"Right. You could have just called me, since you've probably been waiting for a while," he said with a little shrug.
"I did call you."
Wait, that wasn't right. Tamaki would have been notified if he'd received any calls. The other guy didn't look eager to say more about it though (he seemed in a bad mood already), so Tamaki simply turned back around and finally unlocked their door with an audible 'click'. He pushed forward to enter first with the person he was housing with close behind, then graciously closed the door behind them both when the other guy simply strolled in without a care in the world; which was fine. Yeah, it was completely fine.
"So, no key, then?"
Tamaki hadn't phrased his question like that to sound like an asshole, truly. It was just a familiar sentence he happened to remember. That's all.
The other guy, who'd looked determined to head straight to his room just now, paused at that, turning back to face Tamaki with what was definitely a sneer on his lips now. And wow, he was a little taller than Tamaki had initially thought. Tamaki definitely had more muscle on him, though.
"I thought my 'being unable to get in' made that obvious," the guy snarked.
Tamaki's brow twitched, unamused, though he supposed it would be ideal to maintain a pleasant smile on his face. "I was just asking if you ever had a key, is all. Or if we're supposed," expected, "to share the one I have."
"I had my own, but I misplaced it."
Tamaki's smile faltered, genuine concern replacing that earlier slight annoyance. "Where? Maybe someone picked it up, if you remember the last time you had it on yo—"
"Are you normally this nosy about other people's business?" the guy interrupted, tone cutting.
Tamaki fell silent at the rebuke, surprised and embarrassed. His new 'roommate' was staring at him like he was a unique kind of stupid.
"Well, excuse me for trying to help…"
"Look, Tadashi, was it?" the man interjected once again.
"It's Tamaki…"
Ignoring the correction, the other person continued, "We don't have to be friends just because we share a roof. I'd prefer if we acted like the other didn't exist, actually."
"Except when circumstances like this one call for acknowledgement, I'm guessing," Tamaki uttered indignantly, earning a sharp glare from the other person. Whatever, he wasn't aiming for subtlety at this point.
"You catch on fast," the guy remarked dryly, clearly wanting the conversation to end. "I'll get another key tomorrow morning. This isn't the first time it's happened."
"Careless." Tamaki wanted to shut up. He didn't know why he was still picking a fight with this guy. He never picked fights with people.
His fellow tenant seemed poised to retort but thought better of it, offering only a derisive snort before exiting the room. Tamaki realized that the guy hadn't shared his name again. Their first real meeting could have gone so much better.
Well, so much for that good first impression.
~***~