The next time Izou arrived at the coffee shop, he was still exhausted and emotionally spent. It was Thursday. On this day, he would have met with Saitou-san to go over his practice exams a final time. A twinge of pain stabbed Izou's heart then and he quickly turned to the counter, facing away from the corner booth. If Saitou-san was there, he'd walk out, he wasn't ready to speak to him yet.

"Izou-chan?"

Izou lifted his head and was met with the pretty face of one of his colleagues. "Ah, Mi-chan," he said, trying to steady his voice. "Sorry, I was just wondering if I could have a copy of the schedule? I'd like to see when I'm working next."

Mi-chan's eyes brightened. "Of course! How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you."

"Don't overwork yourself," Mi-chan chided worryingly, handing over a sheet of paper. "We'd be glad to cover your shifts until you've fully recovered!"

"Thank you, but I'd rather work," Izou insisted, scanning the sheet for his hours. "It'll be good for me."

"Is Izou-chan not meeting with Saitou-san today?"

Izou tried not to let the grimace on his face show. "No, I'm afraid not…"

The petite girl with short cut hair propped up on her tiptoes and pointed to the booth. "He left you something on the booth table earlier today. I think it's still there. Hana-chan tried to put it in the backroom, but we didn't have enough space."

Surprised, Izou glanced over his shoulder again towards the booth, but it was hidden by the corner of the counter. He thanked Mi-chan and prepared himself for what he was going to see.

As he turned the corner, the booth came into view. On its table was a thick manila envelope with a bright yellow post-it note, next to what looked like a potted plant wrapped up in a brown paper bag. It wasn't until Izou reached the table that he realized it was the same plant he had scolded Saitou-san about. He glanced down at the envelope and picked it up to read the note.

To Izou,

Enclosed are your practice exams from last week. A blank set is also included if you want more practice.

I thought the plant may still be of use to you during your studies. They say greenery is good for your eyes.

For the sake of transparency, the plant is to sprout miniature roses. If they are not to your liking, please do not feel obligated to keep the plant. Regardless of what you choose to do with it, I trust it will be in better hands than mine.

I am confident you will pass, and wish you all the best in your endeavours.

From Saitou Kunihiro

Izou blinked and quickly opened the heavy envelope to pull out the contents. True to the notes' words, the only items inside were the two sets of tests, one blank, and one that read 94/100 . No other notes, no thank yous or I'm sorrys, no follow-ups or give-me-a-second-chances. No other indicators that anything had happened between them, apart from the fact that today, they would have done the last test together.

Izou closed the envelope and glanced back at the note again. He re-read it, over and over, like it was written in a language he had never seen. Eventually, the words sank in.

If they are not to your liking, please do not feel obligated to keep the plant. Regardless of what you choose to do with it, I trust it will be in better hands than mine.

I am confident you will pass, and wish you all the best in your endeavours.

He dropped the note to his side, and unable to help himself, his eyes grew hot and wet. Although he had pushed Saitou-san away, the man was still trying to help him. He hadn't even asked Izou to return to him, or to see him. He had willingly cut himself out of Izou's life, but had done so with the great grace, respect, and...

A care for Izou, he realized to himself. Kunihiro cared about him as Izou.

Quietly, Izou slid the items back into the envelope. Hands shaking slightly, he brought the package close to his heavy, warming heart. He could not explain what he felt then, with so many emotions churning through him like the waves of a tumultuous sea. But one sensation he could distinctly identify above all the rest, and it rang through him clear as a well-struck chord of music. A sound of truth.

When the tears welled back up, they were tears of love.

Weeks bled into summer. As the trees shifted from soft-pink blossoms to bursts of brightly-colored leaves, Kunzite had still heard nothing from Izou. As per the boy's request, Kunzite had done his best to steer clear of him, and ensured their paths had not crossed since. Instead, Kunzite threw himself once more into his work, but a sense of perseverance detained him from being consumed by it: he had to be there for Zoisite. Even if Zoisite had moved on, he still had to be there, on standby. It was the least Kunzite could do in this lifetime...he had failed at all else.

When he was not working, Kunzite would pore over the plethora of books that now filled his shelves. He disappeared into new worlds of knowledge ceaselessly. As soon as one subject was finished, another was cracked open. Consuming pages of domestic laws, philosophies that were both ancient and modern, and various religions allowed him to stave the gnawing feeling in his chest that ached for the companionship he had lost, and the bitterness of self-depreciation. Knowledge, he fooled himself, would prime him better for his next chance.

He was lost in such an act when a knock came on his door one afternoon. Thinking it to be the mailman, Kunzite put his book aside and opened the door with dull expectation. Much to his surprise, the person standing before him was…

Izou.

The boy was holding a reasonably-sized, metal cookie tin but Kunzite hardly took notice of it. He wasn't even entirely sure he was awake. "I...Izou."

Izou smiled faintly. "Kunzite-sama," he greeted quietly.

He said my name. Kunzite's mind began to race. Did this mean he had all his memories? Was it Izou he was speaking to, or Zoisite? A million questions flashed through his mind at the speed of light, but they all came to a halt when Izou presented the box to him.

"Er...this is for you. In thanks for the lessons." Izou's voice was softer than usual, almost shy.

Kunzite took the gift almost robotically and thanked him, not understanding the gesture. Surely Izou wasn't just here for this…?

Awkwardly, Izou glanced back up and blew a tuft of his bangs out of his eyes. "I also came to apologize," he finally admitted. "I shouldn't have said those things to you, back at the Tower, the way I did. I imagine it was very hurtful. I'm sorry."

Kunzite's eyes softened then, but they were also somber.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Kunzite said quietly. "Absolutely nothing."

They stood in awkward silence again for a few moments longer. Izou was now playing with a wayward curl around his finger absently, while Kunzite shifted his weight a little from one side to the other. Eventually, Izou pulled his finger away to let the curl bounce back in its original spring.

"I also wanted to tell you," he said with a deep breath, "that...Kuroi-san and I are no longer together."

This news clearly stunned Kunzite.. "...What?" he asked bluntly, dumbfounded. "When was this?"

"A few weeks ago. We kind of grew in different directions and eventually decided it was the best to part ways." Izou crossed his hands behind him and began to fiddle with his fingers there. "Since then, I've had some time to think, and... my conclusion is…whether or not we have a past together, or some kind of shared ...delusion..."

Here he took another breath, before continuing.

" I am ….curious, I suppose...and I think I'd like to get to know you better in the present. So I was wondering if you'd be interested in ...doing the same?"

The end of Izou's question sounded genuinely uncertain, and for a moment Kunzite was reminded of how Zoisite would often hesitantly voice certain opinions of his, unsure if he would receive Kunzite's approval or disappointment for them. To think, this was a question that Izou, by all rights, had not needed to ask, and yet, here he was, asking.

"Of course," Kunzite said instantly, his heart rising. "Always. Yes."

Before Kunzite could get carried away, however, Izou put up a hand. "But, there are conditions," he said firmly. Kunzite's excitement halted immediately.

"Unless I ask, I don't want any mention of past lives...or whatever it was we were talking about back at the Tower. There's still a lot I don't remember about myself right now, and to be frank, I don't really want to remember anything I don't have to. Instead, I'd like us to get to know one another properly...as Izou and Kunihiro. Is this acceptable to you?" Izou's green eyes were steadfast and Kunzite briefly recognized it as Zoisite's trademark expression when was deadly serious...except this time, he was on the receiving end of it.

"Of course." Kunzite's shoulders relaxed, and he gazed at Izou with only sincerity on his face. "Anything you wish."

"I'm being serious, Saitou-sama."

"So am I." Kunzite met Izou's steadfast gaze with one of his own. " Anything you want in this, Izou, I will do."

Izou blinked then, and a look of relief crossed his face. It seemed as if he hadn't been expecting Kunzite to say that, but was happy that he had obliged. "Alright then," he said, with a bit of a smile peeking up, almost a bit excitedly. "In that case, we'll make a date. Next Thursday at six?"

Kunzite wasn't sure if it would work but he'd make it work. "Next Thursday at six."

"Great." Izou's smile became a grin and Kunzite loved it. "I'll see you then. Goodbye."

Kunzite wished Izou hadn't needed to leave so soon, but he knew he couldn't push things. "...Goodbye," he agreed quietly, but the word was softened knowing that he would see Izou again soon. As Izou beamed once more and turned on his heel to leave, Kunzite remembered something. "Izou."

Izou was almost down the hall when he stopped and turned back. "Yes?"

"Your exam. How was it?"

"Oh!" Izou grinned again, and this time his face glowed proudly. "I passed." True to Izou's polite nature, he didn't divulge exactly how well he had passed, but Kunzite could tell by the glee in his voice and the little flip of his ponytail that he had done it with flying colors.

Kunzite stood tall and he couldn't help but smile faintly as well, head raised high. "I'm not surprised," he said in a bit of a gruff, but an affectionate voice. "I knew you could do it."

Izou nearly did a little jump then, giggling self-appreciatively. He turned back around to head down the hallway.

"Izou."

Once more, Izou paused, but this time he didn't turn around.

"Thank you."

The words stunned Izou momentarily, and he slowly looked back at Kunzite over his shoulder. Eyes softening, he smiled a bit.

"Understood, Saitou-sama," he said softly. "See you soon."

Feeling that this was an appropriate time to end their first exchange, Kunzite nodded and gestured Izou to be on his way. The boy with the honey-copper hair glanced back for a final time before he disappeared around the corner, and Kunzite knew his chances had been renewed. And he was never going to take this round for granted.

Closing the door, he turned to the box in his hands. He unwrapped the bow and lifted the lid of the box. Inside, a layer of homemade cookies were piled high and wrapped with cling film. They seemed to be of oatmeal consistency, drizzled in honey that were drawn in designs of girly, cute flowers. It was the sort of thing Kunzite had seen young teenage girls giving the subjects of their affections during Valentine's in the streets. A junior high, possibly high-school recipe, straightforward and simple. Curious, Kunzite thought. To his knowledge, Zoisite had never baked before.

But more importantly, a single flower rested upon the bed cookies. Its bud was about half the length of Kunzite's thumb, just beginning to bloom. Its petals were a lovely faint pink colour, while its leaves were fresh and deeply green. A miniature rose.

With careful precision, Kunzite carefully lifted the rose out from the container. Eyes closed, he brought it to his nose. Its scent was soft and sweet, and tinted with honey.

He wouldn't let Zoisite down this time, Kunzite promised to himself as he carefully placed the rose aside. Izou, he corrected himself, as he pulled back the saran wrap to pick up a cookie. Upon flipping it over, he saw the bottoms of the treats were entirely burnt black.

Unable to help himself, Kunzite split into a chuckle. With just as great care he stowed the box in his pantry.

He couldn't wait to eat them with his lunch tomorrow.