Ichirou looked at himself in the mirror one last time. He was wearing the same pink suit as when he went to the hotel restaurant with Masahiro. However, this time, he was wearing the pink heart necklace he got from Masahiro just a few days ago. He gently stroked it with his thumb and forefinger, his anxiety plain on his face. He was nervous as hell.

A knock came at the door, and Ichika’s voice rang through. “Big brother, it’s time for you to come down to the dining area. Mom and Dad are waiting.”

Ichirou sucked in and released a large breath of air. He turned from the mirror and grabbed his phone, taking a look at the screen. It was fifteen minutes until seven. Masahiro had texted Ichirou that he was on his way nearly a half an hour ago, so he would be here any moment. He wrung his hands together nervously for a couple of seconds, before letting out another deep breath and walking out of his room.

He walked down from the third floor to the second floor, meandering down the hallway to the formal dining room. His mother, Iwa, was wearing a gray pencil skirt, gray suit jacket, and a white blouse, while his father, Isami, was wearing a black suit and tie. Ichika was the only one seated, wearing a lavender pantsuit with a black, midriff-showing tube top underneath. 

The white and gold table could normally sit up to eight, but there were only placemats, silverware, and wine glasses for five. Ichirou could only hope that the glasses would be filled to the absolute top. He had a feeling he would need it.

One of the kitchen staff came out to inspect the tables, walking all around it. After she was satisfied that it was up to par, she went right back into the kitchen. The fine porcelain and incredibly clean floors and walls just sang that they were going to have an important guest over, if the outfits of those who lived in the house didn’t already make that statement. At that moment, Ichirou’s parents noticed him and his mother gestured for him to come over.

“Yes?” Ichirou asked, stepping forward to meet them.

Iwa instantly began fussing with his jacket, her eyebrows drawn together. “You promise you would tell me if he was bad to you?”

Ichirou rolled his eyes at this question. “Yes, of course.”

“You’re a Kimura. You can’t accept anything but the best,” Isami said, his arms folded. “We’re just trying to make sure you do have the best.”

“I know, Dad. Just please don’t make it weird,” Ichirou said, trying not to make it weird.

“Mom and Dad are totally gonna make it weird, don’t you worry about that,” Ichika said, her eyes glued to her phone, probably keeping Yuri up to date with how this could possibly turn into a shitshow.

“Be respectful of your parents,” Iwa said, putting her hands on her hips and glowering at her daughter.

“Sorry, it’s just true. You two turn into weirdos when it comes to Ichirou,” Ichika said with a shrug.

“It’s because he’s our precious pearl,” Isami said, resting his hand on Ichirou’s shoulder.

It was more like he was their fragile omega with how they treated him. However, Ichirou’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, noting that only about three minutes had passed. Masahiro had texted him that he was arriving now, and Ichirou felt his heart pounding.

“Masahiro is here,” Ichirou managed out.

“Well, let’s all get in our seats, and then we can greet him when he comes in,” Iwa said, making hand movements to indicate that they should move.

Ichirou sat next to his mother, on the left side of the table. Masahiro would probably be offered the seat in front of him, next to Ichika. Meanwhile, his father sat at the head of the table. They sat in silence for a moment, before they heard footsteps coming from down the hall. Just a moment later, they all stood to greet Masahiro.

Masahiro walked in through the open archway, guided in by a maid, and Ichirou felt his breath catch in his throat. Masahiro was wearing a cobalt blue and black three piece suit, with a blue tie. His hair was carefully styled, and his black gauges looked really good. Just under his sleeve, Ichirou could see a flash of silver; he was wearing the watch. He flashed a confident smile, and if he felt nervous, he didn’t show it at all.

Masahiro bowed before Ichirou’s parents, before eventually sitting down next to Ichika. Ichirou suddenly felt like this was all too real, and his hands were shaking. He looked up to Masahiro anxiously, who met his gaze. They stared at each other for a moment, and, while Massahiro was trying to give Ichirou a reassuring look, Ichirou could sense the barest hint of anxiety in that look. Masahiro was just as nervous as him after all, he just could hide it better.

Placed before them as an appetizer was a lyonnaise salad, with baguette slices on the side. Ichirou grabbed the smallest fork, looking up to his parents in anticipation. They were surely about to bring up something awkward. And, just as he thought that, Isami began to speak.

“Yamashita-san, your uncle is in charge of Yamashita Hotels, correct?” Isami asked.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Masahiro instantly responded.

“I poked around a bit at the finances, and I just can’t help but notice that you had a five percent growth over the past year. That’s not that much,” Isami said, eyeing him down.

Ichirou gripped his fork tightly after downing some lettuce. He knew this was coming, especially the pussy-footing around. His father would doubtlessly bring down hell upon Masahiro if he even somewhat suspected that he was using Ichirou for his money.

“Things have been difficult for a while now. Once I come into power, I fully intend to turn things around,” Masahiro said firmly.

“And how do you intend to do that? Are you planning on getting help from other monetary sources?” It was clear what Isami was hinting at, but Masahiro refused to bite.

“I have ideas on how to restructure our land selection process, as well as how the company works on an executive level. The company is still working how it did nearly twenty years ago. My uncle is wonderful at a lot of things, but he never expected to be in charge of the family business. I fully anticipate having to work hard to fix the company, but I’m going to do it,” Masahiro said.

“But how exactly do you plan on gaining money to implement these fixes?” Isami asked.

Ichirou watched Masahiro’s lips twitch in the slightest showing of irritation. “I’m not going to beg from my future in-law’s, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ve got other ideas.”

Ichirou felt his mouth open and his eyes widen. Masahiro remained calm and collected, calmly eating a piece of his poached egg. Masahiro was not holding back today, it appeared. Ichirou nervously looked over to his father, hoping that his father didn’t take it to heart. He was surprised and relieved to see that Isami was actually smirking a little bit. It seemed like Masahiro played his cards right.

“Then, I suppose I’m wondering, what is your relationship like with your family? You grew up with your aunt for a while, and then your uncle later on, yes? Is there a reason why you switched…?” Iwa asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes.

“Oh, yes. My aunt was not able to adequately take care of me, due to her focusing on her own sons. By the time I was in high school, I was self sufficient enough to live with my uncle, as he usually didn’t come home until late. It was just what was best for everyone in that situation,” Masahiro said smoothly.

Ichirou couldn’t help but feel minorly irritated at that. Masahiro didn’t move out because his aunt couldn’t take care of him, he moved out because she was abusing him! He hated that Masahiro felt the need to play this down, but he also knew that it was the safe choice. His parents could take it the wrong way and just think that he was being disrespectful.

“There was nothing largely on your end that could have caused the change in guardianship?” Iwa asked, her voice dripping with implications.

“No, ma’am, it was just mostly issues on my aunt’s part,” Masahiro responded.

Although his voice came out naturally, Ichirou could see some tightness in his jaw and neck. Masahiro was a great liar, but this subject was a sore one for him, so it wasn’t coming as easily to him. Part of Ichirou wanted to reach out and grab Masahiro’s hand, but he knew he couldn’t. Not only would that be a weird thing to do in front of his family, but he also felt like he couldn’t physically console Masahiro like that, not with their relationship being a fake one.

“Tell me, what is it you like most about our son?” Isami asked, folding his arms as his finished plate of salad was replaced with a small portion of salmon en papillote. 

“Well, I like most everything about him, but if I had to pick one thing… it would probably be his smile. He’s got such a pure, beautiful, bright smile, that I want to protect it and make him happy every day. His joy is of the utmost importance to me,” Masahiro said. His eyes were bright, and he almost seemed excited to say that.

Ichirou ducked his head down as his salmon was placed in front of him, face bright red. He knew that Masahiro was just lying for the sake of Ichirou’s parents, but it felt almost like he meant it. He told himself again that the pounding in his heart was just his body reacting to someone he wouldn’t mind having sex with. That’s all it was.

“That’s a good answer,” Isami said, cutting into his salmon. “Ichirou’s smile is absolutely precious. If you’re going to be a good boyfriend to him, you need to make sure you’re absolutely certain that is your number one priority. I won’t allow anything less for our family’s crown jewel.”

Ichirou squirmed and looked shyly at Masahiro. To his surprise Masahiro was looking at him already, the warm and gentle smile that made Ichirou feel so safe on his face. Huh. Maybe they just liked each other’s smiles a lot. If, that is, what Masahiro was saying is true.

“Are you using protection during sex?” Iwa asked, completely ruining the moment.

“M- Mom!” Ichirou cried, standing up in abject horror. 

“You say you are, but I need to make sure he’s not pulling anything funny, too,” Iwa said, huffing.

“Mom, don’t you think he’d lie to you if he was poking holes in the condoms?” Ichika asked, looking slightly grossed out.

“I can tell if he’s lying,” she said, glaring at Masahiro.

Ichirou almost wanted to yell at her that no, no she could not tell, but thought better of it. Glowering at the woman he called his mother, he got into his seat again. Ichirou angrily stabbed his fork into his food, in utter disbelief that his mother actually had the gall to ask such a question. 

“W- well,” Masahiro said, his face quite red as well. “We’re very careful. I’m not ready to be a father, so, uh, we always wear protection. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Every single time? Are you certain? You’re not going to pass on anything to my little boy, are you?” Iwa asked, an eyebrow lifted and a distrustful look on her face.

Ichirou choked on some of his food. “M- Mom! Quit it!! We- we’ve been careful! And he doesn’t have any diseases, god!”

“He could just be hiding them from you,” Iwa said, folding her arms.

“Mom!! Stop assuming the worst in my boyfriend!” Ichirou cried, his face aflame.

He had known that his parents would probably ask some embarrassing questions, but he hadn’t expected it to get this bad. He gave Masahiro a panicked and apologetic look, but he somehow still had most of his shit together, unlike Ichirou. Masahiro’s cheeks and ears were red with embarrassment, but he was still attempting to push on like normal.

“I don’t have any sexually transmitted illnesses. I’ve never been sexual with anyone else before. I use protection because we’re not ready to be parents. If you feel you really want to talk more in depth about our personal sex life, I’m going to ask that Ichirou-san and Ichika-san leave the room so that they don’t have to listen,” Masahiro said, speaking softly and intensely. It was obvious to anyone in the room that this topic was over.

“Well, darling, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Isami said, patting his wife’s hand. “I don’t think there’s any more reason to doubt these boys until something comes up.”

Iwa drew herself back and cut off a small piece of salmon. “Fine. We can lay this topic to rest.”

Ichika in particular looked relieved. “Okay, great, do you have any more questions for your inquisition?”

Isami scowled at his daughter for a moment before switching his gaze to Masahiro. “Yes, we do have more questions, actually. When do you plan on proposing?”

Ichirou stood up again, wailing, “Daaad! You’re just as bad as Mom! You can’t be serious!”

“Sit down, Ichirou,” Isami said, not even looking at his son. “We would like for our sweet child to be married and marked as soon as possible, for his own safety. We’re not trying to rush you both, but we do want this relationship to be a marriage within the next two years.”

Ichirou was close to tears at this point. The only thing worse that they could do is bring out old baby pictures or something. He couldn’t believe how embarrassing they were being. He may have thought that this family dinner would be awkward, but he didn’t expect it to be so absolutely mortifying.

“I feel like that’s between Ichirou-san and I, don’t you think?” Masahiro asked, meeting Isami’s gaze.

The dishes were once again switched out, this time the salmon being replaced with confit de canard. Ichirou glanced between his father and his “boyfriend” several times, noting their steely gazes. He didn’t particularly feel like this was going well, but he also couldn’t help but blame it entirely on his parents. What kinds of questions were these for a first meeting?

“I would say that if you are marrying into this family, it is a family matter. We only have Ichirou’s wellbeing in mind. He’s in high society, surrounded by alphas. As an omega, the time until he ends up in heat with an alpha around that isn’t his family isn’t an if, but a when. We want that time to be safely with someone he loves and cares about. It will be safer for everyone around if he’s marked and married earlier on. You might think us old fashioned, but sometimes old fashioned is the best way to go about things,” Isami said, gripping his wife’s hand and looking pointedly at Masahiro.

Masahiro took a deep breath before returning to the conversation. “I understand where you’re coming from, completely. However Ichirou-san is his own person, and he’s a bit concerned about marrying too fast. Besides, two years will just barely have me finished with my schooling and into my new job. I think it would be better to wait at least three.”

Isami made a harrumphing sort of noise before speaking. “There’s no way we can allow that to happen. We can take care of all of the wedding work behind the scenes, all you need to do is show up, Yamashita-san. There’s no need for you to worry about your career if you just need a few days off.”

“Taking a few days off in a job I just started seems like a bad idea, to me. I understand that you’re worried about your son, but you’re already doing a great job of ensuring his safety. Until we do get married, I’ll continue to take care of your son,” Masahiro said.

“How do we know that you even are taking care of him well?” Iwa asked, squinting at her potential son-in-law. “How do we know you’re not biding your time to put your claws into our son and hurt him?”

Masahiro looked almost bewildered at that. “B… because I haven’t done anything to hurt him? I mean, do you really think that Ichirou-san wouldn’t tell you if I did something to hurt him?”

“Abusers are like that, don’t you know? They pretend to be nice and then, when it’s too late, they start hurting you. How can we know you’re not like that?” Iwa asked.

Masahiro was starting to get a little frustrated with the consistent accusations. “I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m not a bad guy.”

Ichirou decided it was his time to jump in. “Mom, Dad, stop hounding him like that! He’s my boyfriend and I…” Ichirou’s face lit up red. “I- I lo- love him!”

The dining room went silent. Masahiro looked a little stunned at that, his own face going red. Ichika looked up at him with an incredulous, shit eating grin on her face. Iwa and Isami looked between each other, communicating with just expressions. Ichirou had simply used “daisuki,” but at that moment, it felt like he’d used “aishitemasu.” He felt like he might die of embarrassment, but it was the only way he could think of to get his parents to chill the hell out. Finally, after a moment, Iwa sighed.

“I’m sorry, Yamashita-san. It appears that I got a little heated and defensive of my baby boy. I’ve just had this fear since he had his first test done to find out his sex… I’ve been afraid of people hurting him. The world is a scary and unrelenting place for omegas. There are alphas who would harm him without a second thought. Because of that, I brought out those insecurities on you. You didn’t deserve that,” Iwa said softly, giving a slight bow in apology.

The tension in Masahiro’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. I completely know where you’re coming from. Ichirou-san truly is someone precious that we both care about deeply. I know it’s hard to see right now, but I’ll prove to you that I’m someone he can safely be with.”

Isami leaned back a bit, slowly cutting off a piece of his duck. “Please, do. Our family has always been a bit… a bit standoffish from most others because of our high status. Being the second richest family in Japan has perks and downsides. We almost never know who is being real with us, and who isn’t.”

Masahiro nodded, understanding. “I don’t blame you at all for your concerns. I’ll do my best to address each of these concerns you two have so that we can have a good relationship.”

Iwa nodded. “Good. Now, I suppose I have one last question for you about your relationship with Ichirou.”

Masahiro swallowed the last piece of his duck, giving an affirmative nod. “Yes?”

“Do you want kids?”

Ichirou squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears of embarrassment. Why? Why couldn’t they be normal for one goddamn night? No, they had to pry into his (nonexistent) sex life, demand he get married, and bother his “boyfriend” about grandchildren. Is this what life was like for everyone who started dating?

“Yes, we’ve already talked about that,” Masahiro said calmly.

“Excellent. That’s really the last thing I needed to know,” Iwa said.

Ichirou slumped into his seat, letting out a sigh of relief. He barely even noticed that his duck leg was taken away and replaced with a cheese soufflé. He was just grateful that this was the last thing he needed to worry about. Now, perhaps, they could talk about something else, something normal! Maybe he and his father could speak business to each other.

“I do have one question for you that’s unrelated, though,” Iwa said, curiously leaning forward.

Aw, fuck.

“Of course, go ahead,” Masahiro said before putting away a mouthful of soufflé.

“Do you remember us?”

The air went still. Ichirou couldn’t compute what she was asking. Did he remember them? From, like, the night of the party five months ago? However, as he surveyed the expressions of those around him, he got the feeling that wasn’t quite the case. Both his mother and father had serious expressions, both of their eyes locked on Masahiro. Meanwhile, Ichirou’s “boyfriend,” had completely tightened up, and he looked almost… scared? Somehow, scared was the right word. Ichika was looking between the two groups with wide eyes, holding her spoon in her mouth like she was scared to move it.

“S- sorry, what was that question again?” Masahiro asked. He moved to put his hand on his lap, but Ichirou was able to see that he was shaking before it disappeared.

This time, Isami spoke. “Do you remember us at all? It was a long time since we last met, so…”

“What?” Ichirou finally spoke, his confusion blatant. “What are you talking about? Like, at the party?”

“Oh, Ichirou, sweetie, you don’t remember? I thought you did, and that’s why you picked him,” Iwa said, looking at her son with concern in her eyes.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ichirou looked around the table once more. “Can we stop being vague?”

“Your parent’s names were Minami and Reiichi, right, Yamashita-san?” Isami turned back to Masahiro.

Slowly, slowly, Masahiro nodded. “That’s… that’s them, all right.”

Ichirou was slowly growing more and more frustrated. “What’s going on?”

Iwa gestured to a maid who had both guided Masahiro in and stood watch over them this whole time, awaiting orders. “Please, can you get the home made tapes in the storage room from twenty to fifteen years ago? The only ones you don’t need to bring are ones that are related to Ichika. Nothing important will be on those ones. Set them up in the living room, please. We’ll have dessert and coffee there.”

Isami looked at his son as the maid quickly walked out of the room. “It will be easier to explain with videos. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Ichirou hesitantly grabbed a spoonful of his soufflé, looking between his parents and Masahiro. Masahiro looked decidedly unwell suddenly. His face was pale, and he was eating his food very slowly. He knew something about this, and felt guilty. What did he do? How did he know Ichirou’s parents? Why didn’t he mention it? What the heck was happening?

After a while of his parents chatting back and forth about something entirely unrelated and everyone finishing their cheese soufflé, the maid returned, informing them that the videos were ready. His parents stood up first, with Masahiro standing up last. As they filed out, Ichirou fell back beside Masahiro, who was dragging his feet just the slightest bit.

“What is happening?” Ichirou softly hissed.

“Please don’t hate me,” was Masahiro’s quiet response.

“Why would I hate you? What’s going on?”

Masahiro would not respond any further. 

They came into the living room, where there were two couches; one with three seats and one with two. Ichirou was used to his parents sitting on the one with two seats, but they sat on the one with three seats instead. Ichika gave her brother a shrug and sat down on it as well. With just a tiny little bit of nervous energy around the couple, Masahiro and Ichirou sat down next to each other. Atop the low coffee table, a kitchen worker brought them their crème brûlée, another trailing after with coffee cups. The maid handed the remote to Iwa, who gleefully pressed play after confirming that it was a disk from twenty years ago.

It took a moment for the image to display, but when it did, Ichirou felt his eyes widen. On screen was very clearly Ichirou as a two year old, playing in a kiddie pool in his backyard. However, he wasn’t alone in that kiddie pool; there was another boy, with dark blue hair and sky blue eyes sitting next to him, lightly splashing around. There was no way. There was simply no way.

“Ichirou, are you having so much fun with your new friend?” His mother cooed from behind the camera. Her bending over to look down at the little boys showed just a bit of her pregnant stomach.

“They really play together well,” came another woman’s voice from off screen. “I think you and I should keep up these play dates.”

His mom turned the camera over to another woman. She was tall and beautiful, with dark blue hair and green eyes. She had the same exact kind smile as Masahiro.

“I know, right, Mina-chin?”

The woman laughed. “Don’t call me that, we’re not in high school anymore! Just film the boys.”

The younger Iwa turned her camera back to the boys and continued cooing over them. All the while, Ichirou tried to understand what he was exactly watching. It was absolutely him as a toddler, splashing and playing with a doll in the shallow water, but this other kid… there was no way. There was just no way.

The scene changed. This time, the other boy was sitting at the table in a booster seat, and was eating cake. Ichirou sat near him, eating another piece of cake. Ichirou could see his mother’s pregnant belly standing next to that other woman in the background, as well as a man whose arm was wrapped around his wife’s waist.

“Honey, did you even get us singing happy birthday on camera?” Iwa asked, and the camera turned to look at her.

“I’m sorry, you sang too fast!” A younger Isami cried. 

“Honestly. You should have been recording, too, Mina-chin. It’s Masa-kun’s birthday.”

“We’ll get around to filming one of these days,” the man said. He had silver hair and sky blue eyes. His well-defined jawbone and thick, muscular body was just like Masahiro’s.

The scene changed again, although obviously not far in the future. Iwa appeared to be recording the other toddler receiving gifts. He was surrounded by stuffed animals and plastic trucks. Ichirou wandered on screen soon after, and plopped down next to him, grabbing a fluffy bear.

“No, no, Ichirou–darling, can you get that bear from him? That’s Masa-kun’s,” Iwa said, the camera turning to a younger version of Ichirou’s father.

“Oh, it’s all right,” the other man said, kneeling down next to the two boys.

“Really, Yamashita-san? Ichirou is pretty bad about giving things back,” Iwa said.

“Ichirou-kun’s so cute, how could I ever ask him to part with something like that?” he asked, gently patting both boy’s heads.

Several more scenes came and went, and Ichirou watched each of them with wide eyes. He felt like he was unable to tear his eyes away for even a moment as the pieces began to fall into place. He had a best friend from when he was two years old until he was seven. A best friend that he considered his first love. The boy who had promised him that they would get married all those years ago.

As the first disk ended, Ichirou finally felt like he could move his head in the direction of Masahiro. He was about ready to let loose an explosion, even despite his parents being there, demanding to know what the hell was going on, but Masahiro’s expression stopped him. Masahiro was silently weeping, his eyebrows drawn together as tears ran down his cheeks. He was still staring at the screen while the maid put in the next one.

“M- Masahiro-san?” Ichirou stammered out.

Masahiro blinked, finally being pulled out of the trance the video had him under. He touched his cheeks, trembling as he looked at the wet tips of his fingers. He didn’t stop silently crying, the tears now openly falling onto his hands.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” Masahiro managed out.

“They really didn’t ever take any videos, did they? This was before smartphones, after all. I remember, at the funeral, we provided the footage,” Iwa said, her voice a little bit quiet. “It’s probably the first time you’re seeing them move in a few years.”

Masahiro nodded, wiping at his cheeks and eyes with the back of his hands. “Y- yeah. I don’t have a lot from their last few years, so… seeing them like this…”

Ichirou desperately wanted to be angry with Masahiro as the next video began to play, this time of slightly older toddlers playing in the snow. He wanted to yell at Masahiro, demanding to know when he knew. He wanted to scream at Masahiro for lying to him. But seeing Masahiro so openly overwhelmed and sorrowful made it impossible for Ichirou to fan those flames within him. All he could do was reach out and grab Masahiro’s hand, interlocking his fingers with Masahiro’s.

Masahiro jumped a little at that, looking between Ichirou’s face and his hand several times. It almost seemed like he didn’t really believe that Ichirou would do that. However, his warm hand enclosed around Ichirou’s once more, and they watched the videos together. Ichirou would be mad at Masahiro later.

Ichirou watched as the two of them became more adept at speaking, learned how to count together, began to draw together, learned their shapes together… they went from grimy little toddlers into small children. There were very few scenes in time when the two of them weren’t together. The mothers seemed to be really good friends as well, always chatting about motherhood and how proud they were of their boys.

Some of the scenes contained a baby Ichika now as well, although the ones that just contained her were skipped past. Ichika protested a bit, claiming to be the cutest baby in the entire world. Ichirou rolled his eyes, and muttered that this wasn’t about her. He reached down and grabbed a coffee cup sipping on it as more scenes whirled by. All while doing this, he naturally didn’t let go of Masahiro’s hand.

A young Ichirou was on screen, his hair in pigtails and in a dress with a book open. Masahiro sat next to him, looking at the flowers as well. Ichirou looked up and beamed excitedly.

“Mommy, Mommy! Look at this flower Masa found for me on the ground! What was it called again?” Ichirou looked over to Masahiro excitedly.

“It’s called a plum blossom,” Masahiro said, looking proud of himself.

“Very good, Masahiro,” Minami crooned from the right of the camera. “We went out and found it on a walk yesterday, and Masahiro insisted that he had to take it to Ichirou for his special book. It was so sweet.”

The camera went back over to Ichirou and Masahiro, who were carefully adjusting the flower so it would look nice on the pages. Ichirou closed it, pushing a little bit on top for good measure. As much strength as his tiny four year old arms could muster, that is. Masahiro began to chatter about a bug he found to Ichirou, and the scene ended.

Soon after came a scene of Ichirou and Masahiro being dropped off at school. Ichirou’s hair was down this time, and he was wearing more masculine clothing, while Masahiro looked like he could be the poster child of 2005, wearing a striped shirt and shorts. They each wore a yellow helmet and were being ushered over by a teacher. They walked together into kindergarten together, holding hands. Iwa let out a sigh and turned the camera back to her good friend, Minami.

“Thoughts on their last year of kindergarten?” Iwa asked.

Minami, driving away from the caretaker center, was obviously trying not to cry. “They’re getting so big, Iwa! What are we going to do? Soon they’ll be all grown up.”

“I know, I know! I hope one day we can all be a big happy family.”

“You really think they’re gonna get married one day?”

“I mean, think about how we just happened to meet again after nearly ten years in the supermarket on the one day I forgot to have my person go shopping for me. And how quickly our kids attached to each other? I think they’re soulbonded,” Iwa said.

“Well, I guess we’ll see when they’re older.” 

Ichirou suddenly became very aware of Masahiro sitting beside him. He looked over to Masahiro, who was still glued to the television. The occasional tear still rolled down his face, but he looked a lot better. Still, soulbonded? To Masahiro? That was crazy. The thought somehow made his heart race, though, for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. He lightly squeezed Masahiro’s hand in response to those feelings.

A couple more years, with family gatherings, day trips, and hangouts were recorded. The two children began to grow up a bit more. They watched anime together, played together as knight and princess, played house as husband and wife, played video games, and studied together. It seemed like they were truly tied at the hip. It made Ichirou really wonder how he had forgotten Masahiro’s sweet little face.

Minami, Reiichi, Iwa, and Isami all spent quite a bit of time talking to each other about their future dreams and goals. The couples seemed to love each other and their children very much, and always commented on the changes they saw in the kids. Still, it seemed like they were together almost constantly.

The videos lasted for hours, their coffee cups emptied and replaced with sweet wine glasses and their bowls of crème brûlée cleaned up. Despite it getting close to eleven, nobody made any move to stop the show. Masahiro had finally stopped crying, but he looked exhausted. Ichirou partially wanted Masahiro to stay the night in the guest room, but the part of him that was still angry at Masahiro wouldn’t let him pursue those feelings.

In one of the scenes, Iwa was filming Ichika drawing outside in the backyard when Ichirou ran up to them excitedly. He was wearing a puffy dress with a ton of rhinestones, and his hair was once again in ponytails. There was a little crown on his head, and he was holding a single pink rose.

This was it. This moment, at the very least, Ichirou never forgot about. Just before this, the boy who turned out to be Masahiro had clasped hands with him. They had looked into each other’s eyes and sworn to each other. Ichirou had known at that moment that he was completely and utterly in love with Masahiro, and he really did believe that they would be together forever.

Masahiro followed after Ichirou in this scene, a big smile on his face. It was a really pure and innocent look, filled with absolute joy. This was Masahiro before anything bad had happened. This was Masahiro, untainted by the world. This was Masahiro, before he knew grief or sorrow.

“Mommy, Mommy,” Ichirou excitedly said, stopping in front of the table that the mothers and Ichika were seated at. “Guess what?”

“What is it, Ichirou?” Iwa asked, her tone light hearted and humorous. 

“Masahiro just asked me to marry him someday! He said that he wanted to spend the rest of always with me! And I told him I wanted to, too! So, we’re gonna get married and have our own families when we’re all growed up!” Ichirou exclaimed. 

“Oh, is that so?” Iwa sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, yeah, he even got me this pink rose as a gift! To make sure the promise was real! Isn’t it so pretty? I’m gonna put it in my book,” Ichirou gushed, grabbing onto Masahiro’s hand.

“Are you really going to be all right with promising something so big like that to Ichirou-kun?” Minami asked, sounding doubtful.

Masahiro gave a huge nod. “I promised Ichirou that I was always gonna take care of him and protect him! And I will. When I get to be an adult, we’re gonna have a big wedding and maybe we’ll even kiss sometimes.”

Iwa let out a surprised laugh at that. “Oh, yeah? Goodness, I’m glad I caught this on film…”

Ichirou’s face could not be more bright red. He looked at anywhere but the screen or the faces of those around him. He had promised to spend forever with Masahiro that day. How completely embarrassing. Not only that, but he was still holding onto Masahiro’s hand. It was almost like they were fulfilling that childhood promise all these years later.

No, wait, wasn’t Masahiro the one who accepted the invitation to meet with Ichirou way back in April? It was like Masahiro was fulfilling the promise all these years later. There’s no way he would do something like that, though, right? He wouldn’t hold onto a promise from when they were eight and seven, right? Then again, he obviously remembered Ichirou and didn’t tell him, who’s to say what that man was capable of?

There were only a few more scenes, going into the fall of that year, before Iwa stopped the disk. “Well, after that… there weren’t as many happy scenes recorded. Ichirou got really depressed because Yamashita-san had to leave, and he didn’t really understand death so he was really confused where his second pair of parents went.”

Masahiro sat up a bit and gingerly released Ichirou’s hand finally. “Um, thank you for this. I know it’s much later than I intended to stay, but… ah, if it’s possible, I’d like copies of the stuff that involved me and my parents. I haven’t seen them move in so long… ah, but if you can’t, I totally understand. I just…”

“We can get you copies. Ichirou can take them to you on your next date,” Isami said.

Masahiro relaxed, a soft smile on his face. “Thank you. I know it’s silly, but for me… those were the best times of my life.”

“Ichirou, why don’t you walk your boyfriend down to the door? It’s quite late,” Iwa said.

“Oh, um, yes, okay,” Ichirou said, awkwardly standing up. “Uh… let’s go, Masahiro-san.”

Now that the joy of seeing his parents was over, Ichirou felt his anger heating up inside of him again. He walked silently down the hallway, Masahiro following just after. It was taking all of his self control to once again not just turn on Masahiro and scream. Why didn’t he tell him?! Why would he keep this a secret?! What the hell?!

They walked out the front door together, the air slightly cool, warning of the incoming of autumn. Ichirou, just out front of his home, turned to look at his “boyfriend.” Masahiro hesitantly turned to look down at him as well. He knew he was in the dog house.

Before Ichirou could even speak, Masahiro did. “I’m sorry, Ichirou-san. I wanted to tell you earlier, but-”

“But you didn’t.” Ichirou spoke flatly, glaring up at the taller man.

Masahiro wilted a bit. “But I didn’t.”

Ichirou folded his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. “Listen. I’m feeling fuckin’ generous. I’m willing to hear you out on our next date. But I’m still really fucking mad at you.”

Masahiro perked up a little at that. “Really? You don’t hate me?”

Ichirou groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “No, I don’t hate your goddamn stupid ass motherfucking face, I’m just pissed. And if it wasn’t getting close to midnight, I’d scream at you. In fact, I still fucking might! So go back to your car, and we’ll figure this bullshit out later.”

Masahiro nodded, smiling very slightly at Ichirou. “Thank you, Ichirou.”

“Shut the fuck up and go away,” was Ichirou’s only response.