PART 3: Wretched and Torn

There was, of course, a crucial reason for Yuri scheduling every single date on a weeknight from Monday through Thursday, and it was precisely to avoid the sort of unsightly nonsense Kotetsu was talking about. He had often invited Yuri to stay for breakfast (to indulge in more physical pleasure, no doubt), but no matter how Yuri looked at it, and he had tested several angles by now, there was nothing pleasant in waking up to an unconscious naked body crammed against his and slobbering on his shoulder.

The dregs of intercourse, he had become accustomed to. For his own safety and comfort, he had to make allowances for a certain degree of mess, and with Kotetsu doing the clean up, and post-coital showers being a thing, Yuri could be enticed to make a great deal more. But Kotetsu's perverse fascination with wallowing in their debauchery in broad daylight, his insistence on relishing their stale sweat and their scars struck Yuri as utterly repulsive, as far from romance as it was from common decency…

"Mr. Petrov?"

"Y-Yes?" Yuri straightened in his seat, his expression carefully guarded. Eight CEOs stared at him expectantly from the other side of the round table, their haggard faces illuminated by a pillar of digital projections in the middle.

"You seem distracted, Mr. Petrov," noted one of them. Yuri picked up his cup of coffee and syrup to draw a long sip, internally cursing Kotetsu for encroaching on his mind like the troublesome obstacle he had always been. To think Yuri had once worried he might lose track of the man, when Kotetsu had proven time and time again that his persistence knew no bounds—

"Mr. Petrov."

Yuri set down his cup and cleared his throat.

"I apologize. Could you please reiterate?" he clasped his hands together, determined to banish Kotetsu from his thoughts for the present.

He succeeded more or less, and to his relief, the meeting ended on an acceptable note. After a brief exchange of protocol pleasantries, Yuri retired to his office and checked his email for the customary after-date message from Kotetsu, just another meaningless token of affection wrapped in formal correspondence (Thank you for your assistance. I appreciate your support.) Since these messages were often identical and required no response, he would mark it read and leave it… at that…

No New Messages

Yuri's brow creased. He looked at the clock - it was 10:32 am -, then clicked Search and pulled up Kotetsu's emails to compare the timestamps of previous messages. The vast majority of these thank you (I love you) emails fell between nine and ten o'clock, Kotetsu's usual office hours. Now it was a hair's breadth closer to eleven, at which point the two-hour Apollon Media community event would commence.

Yuri pursed his lips and minimized the window, suddenly grateful for the administrative work generated by his nine o'clock meeting. He perused the minutes, filled out the appropriate forms, and made several phone calls, the last one stretching into his lunch hour. With a curt Have a nice day, Yuri hung up and checked his email.

No New Messages

Perhaps it was the community event, or some other pressing obligation. Perhaps.

Yuri's eyes fell to the food delivery flyer he had placed on his desk between the last two calls to facilitate decision-making. He read it over again out of habit, returned it to its proper drawer, and left his office, to seek proper nourishment elsewhere.

Kotetsu was simply being petulant and childish, Yuri thought to himself as he started on his sweetened cottage cheese pirog, perched by the window of a bakery and café that just happened to offer a great view of the ongoing Apollon Media community event. The ability to divorce personal feelings from social transactions was a sign of maturity and intelligence. Kotetsu had obviously never learned how to rein in his emotions, and while his sentimentality and idealism suited him as a Hero, someone like Yuri Petrov, with responsibilities far greater than anyone could ever hope to comprehend, could not afford to compromise himself over something as trivial as feelings. To insist on maintaining a relationship with no emotional strings attached was to approach the issue in a rational, adultlike manner. Therefore, deliberately seeking emotional codependency with a sexual partner was immature and foolish.

Surely Kotetsu was sensible enough to understand that, Yuri told himself on the way back to his office, alone and unnoticed by anyone.

No New Messages

It was safer to maintain his distance. To keep Kotetsu close, but not too close, for Yuri's sake as well as his. After all, they were too old to pursue a clandestine romance, and by the time they would be released from their legal shackles, they would have grown older still. It was a useless effort, and besides, Yuri valued his independence and privacy above everything else. Solitude had always been his greatest refuge.

No New Messages

So why did the silence bother him now?

No New Messages

No New Messages

No New Messages

Earlier that day…

To: Yuri Petrov

From: Wild Tiger (Kaburagi T. Kotetsu)

Subject:

To Administrator Petrov,

With reference to our discussion yesterday, I am writing to request clarification on|

Kotetsu stared at the blinking cursor like it was a miniature wall blocking his path. He frowned and hit Backspace.

With reference to our discussion yesterday, I am writing to|

"Kotetsu-san?"

"Eh?" Kotetsu minimized the window and swiveled to the right to face Barnaby. "What is it, Bunny? Something wrong?"

"That's what I was about to ask you," Barnaby quirked a brow. "You're usually more cheerful around this time. Did something happen?"

Kotetsu colored as Barnaby's meaning sank in. He stole a glance at the accounting manager seated opposite them. She shrugged and returned to her paperwork.

"N-Nah, nothing happened," Kotetsu scratched his head, his voice lowered in embarrassment. "Don't worry about me.. I've just been thinking a lot…"

"That's commendable, I suppose."

"Haah? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I am sorry," Barnaby adjusted his glasses, his tone appropriately apologetic as he added, "What I should have said was, if you are troubled, and you need to confide in someone…"

"I get it," Kotetsu cracked a tired smile. "Thanks, Bunny."

With that, both turned back to their work stations, one to resume his research on current trends, and the other to discard the draft he had been composing on and off for the past half hour, and make himself more useful before the Apollon Media community event. Like every other Hero-related activity, it was greenlighted by Yuri, and though his endorsement had nothing to do with their current situation, Kotetsu thanked him in spirit for providing a distraction.

Two hours of community service later, Mr. Lloyds treated his star employees to a balanced and nutritious lunch, then drove them to Justice Tower for their daily training, where Kotetsu's quiet hellos and lukewarm enthusiasm immediately caught Nathan's attention.

"Where's your burning passion from yesterday, Tiger-chan?" they sauntered over as Kotetsu settled into the nearest chest fly machine and grabbed the handles. "Did something happen to cool you down? Or did someone get you all tuckered out..?" Nathan pressed a pink nail to their lips.

"Very funny," Kotetsu yanked the handles forward with a grimace and settled into a rough, irregular rhythm. Nathan's eyes widened.

"It's the first one, isn't it!" they pressed their hands to their cheeks. "Something did happen! Are you alright?!"

Several heads turned in confusion and alarm. Pao-Lin and Ivan stopped sparring and lowered their practice weapons.

"What's going on?" asked Antonio as the others inched closer.

"That's what I'd like to know!" replied Nathan. "So tell us!" they clasped their hands together. Kotetsu scowled.

"Can you all stop staring at me and talking about me?" he forced himself to continue his set of butterflies, glaring Nathan down the entire time. "First you outed me to everyone, and now you harass me about it every single week. Give it a rest."

"To be fair, you usually humor me," Nathan's expression wilted. "You didn't get burned, did you..?"

Pao-Lin and Ivan exchanged puzzled glances. Kotetsu heaved a sigh.

"Alright," he released the handles and turned to the others, "this conversation is for guys and gals over thirty, so everyone else go to the other side of the room. Sorry, but that includes you, Bunny," he added when his partner motioned to himself in disbelief. "Sky High can stay, but you're on thin ice," Kotetsu pointed to Keith, who rubbed his chin in thought.

"Thin ice is not a solid foundation," was his verdict. "I'll go with the others!"

"That's a wise decision," Kotetsu nodded as Keith put an arm around Barnaby's shoulders and ushered him along despite his protests. Pao-Lin and Ivan seemed glad to be excused, while Karina gave Kotetsu a look over her shoulder, more concerned than annoyed, before joining the others. As they walked away and resumed their training, Nathan made a quick trip to the Kronos Foods vending machine for three bottles of mineral water.

"So I was right, wasn't I? That this is about your mystery date," they passed Kotetsu and Antonio a bottle each. Kotetsu accepted the offering with a hum. "I can't believe you've been seeing each other for five months and we still know next to nothing about them!"

"Well, they asked me to keep it a secret, so," shrugged Kotetsu.

"I would understand if you had asked them to keep it a secret, what with you being a Hero and all, but the other way around? That just makes it all the more suspect, you know?" Nathan idly stroked the towel hung about their neck. "Like it's someone famous or influential, and it might cause a scandal if they were found out…"

"It's not your boss, is it?" Antonio made a face.

"Mr. Lloyds? Get outta here. He's got a wife and kids, too," Kotetsu opened his bottle.

"Well, at least we know it's not one of us, though there have certainly been volunteers," Nathan shook their head with a lenient smile, ignoring the baffled look Kotetsu gave them between draughts. "But enough about that. They were a little too young for you anyway. So who else is eligible… Oh! I know! It's that judge you see in court all the time, the one that looks like a femme fatale drag act."

Kotetsu choked and spat out his water. Luckily for him, Antonio unwittingly came to his aid.

"Now that's just taking it too far," he scolded Nathan, as if his suggestion hadn't been just as awful. "It's bad enough Kotetsu's in court every other week. Give him a break."

"Right, right… Sorry," Nathan lifted their hands in surrender. "But you do seem down," they turned back to Kotetsu and opened their own bottle. "So what happened between you two?"

"Well… Things, kinda got weird last night. And this morning," Kotetsu wiped his mouth. "I thought we had something special, but now it feels like all they want from me is sex."

It was Antonio and Nathan's turn to spit out their water.

"They're using you?!" cried Nathan. "Sheesh! Tops can be so selfish…"

"Huh..?"

"You know," Nathan pressed their index fingers together, "the ones doing the giving?"

"Oh, that's me, actually," replied Kotetsu.

"Seriously?!"

"What's with that reaction?!"

"It was a compliment to your buns," Nathan pursed their lips, but when Kotetsu gave them a flat look, Nathan clicked their tongue. "And here I thought I knew you well… To think I had you pegged as a total sub, no pun intended, and you were actually a service top this whole time!"

"I'm not even going to ask," Kotetsu squinted at them.

"I would, but I know I'd regret it," muttered Antonio. Nathan giggled.

"What I really don't get is why you're obsessed with any of this," said Kotetsu. "Like, once you get over the mystery part, what's so special about me dating anyone?"

"The fact that we're all single and you're not, that's what!" Nathan threw up their hands in exasperation. "Sheesh! If it were me, I would rub it in your faces every single day, but here I am, a flower in full bloom, still waiting for my Prince Charming to show up…" they touched a flawlessly manicured hand to their forehead. Kotetsu chuckled.

"I'm sure he'll turn up one of these days," he gave Nathan finger guns. "I didn't expect to find love at this point, or whatever this is supposed to be, and look at me now."

"I'm looking, I'm looking," Nathan's eyes ran up and down his frame. "You really should work on those abs some more."

"Shuddup," Kotetsu broke into a grin.

"Jokes aside, what are you gonna do, Kotetsu?" asked Antonio.

"I dunno.. I guess we'll talk it out next time. I was gonna write to them, but maybe that's being too clingy," Kotetsu's grin faded. "All I know is I don't wanna ruin it. No matter how they feel about me, I've been having a lot of fun lately…"

"Says the guy who hasn't been coming to the bar like they should," Antonio nudged him.

"Yeah, I've been trying to cut back a little," replied Kotetsu.

"Is that also because of your date?" asked Nathan.

"Kinda, yeah. The first time I took them to my place, they got nervous when they saw all the bottles," explained Kotetsu. "I mean, the floor wasn't littered or anything, I cleaned up and put it all away for recycling, but they noticed anyway, and it was awkward. Since then, I've been trying to cut back. Keep sober before, during, and sometimes after."

"You're a real man, Kotetsu," Antonio punched his shoulder. Kotetsu jammed a fist into his side in retaliation. "Don't be strangers, though. You wanna come hang out with us tonight?"

"I might. I'll let you know in the evening, alright?"

"We'll warm a seat just for you," winked Nathan. Kotetsu shook his head, but he couldn't shake his grin anymore.

In the end, he supplemented his usual regimen with a healthy dose of abdominal exercise, and after a nap in the oxygen chamber, he and Barnaby returned to the office to wrap up their paperwork for the day.

Kotetsu pulled up his email, but closed it shortly after for good. If Yuri needed space, Kotetsu was willing to wait a few days so they could both catch their breath. In the meantime, he made a mental note to talk to Antonio, and ask him for a favor.

Sometime after six o'clock, Kotetsu said his goodbyes and left Apollon Media, arriving home a little after seven. He dropped his shopping bags in the hallway and vaulted over the living room couch to grab his rotary phone. He flopped backwards and dialed. It only rang twice.

"Hello?" came Kaede's voice, crisp and clear. Kotetsu broke into a grin.

"Kaede! It's Papa, Kaede!" he turned on the camera. Kaede did the same.

"Mannn, are you a sight for sore eyes," Kotetsu's grin widened. Kaede rolled her eyes. "How are you, Kaede? How was school? Your presentation was today, right?"

Kaede straightened and propped her free hand on her hip.

"My teacher said I did a great job! Mine was the best in class!"

"That's amazing! Papa's very proud of you!" gushed Kotetsu. Kaede gave him a look, but her face softened as she said,

"Thank you.. for helping, Dad. Legal stuff is so complicated, but what you sent me was really easy to follow, so…"

"No need to thank me," Kotetsu scratched his head. "Truth is, I had some help, too…"

Thank you, Yuri. We didn't even see each other that week, but when I emailed you, you still took the time to type it all down and send it…

"…Dad, are you listening?"

"O-Oh? Sorry, Kaede! What was that?"

"I asked if Barnaby was the one who helped you."

"You wish," teased Kotetsu. Kaede groaned.

"Do you want to talk to Grandma?"

"Yeah, sure, put her on!" Kotetsu waved as she left her chair, and raised his hand again when his mother occupied it. "Hey, Mom, and how are you doing today?"

"Well?" Anju stared at him expectantly.

"Well what?" Kotetsu quirked a brow.

"How was your date? You haven't seen each other for three weeks, right? Well, how did it go?"

Not you too, thought Kotetsu, but he bit his tongue and forced a smile instead.

"It went great! Just great, same as always," his gaze drifted into space. Anju's brow creased.

"Are you sure about that," her tone rang flat. "Sounds to me like something happened."

Kotetsu bit his tongue again.

"Am I really so easy to read?" he slumped back in his seat. "Feels like everyone was onto me today."

"You think you're being slick, but it's written all over your face. So, what happened?"

"We had.. a misunderstanding, I guess," Kotetsu said at last. "I thought we were more serious about each other than we really are."

"You mean they don't like you as much as you like them?"

"I'm not really sure. All this time I thought I was catching up to them, since they started this whole thing in the first place, but maybe I was wrong… it doesn't make sense, though."

"What doesn't make sense?"

"I mean… If all they wanted from me was.. you know.. then why would they bother with anything else? It's not like they have to have dinner with me, or stay for the night, or help me with things like Kaede's homework, but they still do it, even without asking. That, has to mean something, right..?"

"You like them a lot, don't you."

"I do. Nobody will ever replace Tomoe, but they don't have to. They are different, and that's fine. That's how it should be."

"Well, sounds like you just have to be patient, then," Anju looked relieved. "Honestly, you're doing fine either way. I wish someone nice could get interested in Muramasa…"

"Yeah," sighed Kotetsu, but he smiled all the same. "Hey.. Thanks, Mom."

"For what? Listening? I'm your mother, of course I'll listen. So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna eat dinner, and then go to the bar. Got invited."

"Don't drink too much."

"I won't, I won't! I've been really good about it lately!"

"I'm happy to hear that. Take good care of yourself, Kotetsu."

"You too. Tell Kaede Papa loves her and said good night."

"Will do," Anju nodded and hung up. Kotetsu did the same and set his phone down on the table, then grabbed his groceries from the hallway and headed to the kitchen with a spring in his step. Dinner for one or not, he had a lot to look forward to.

When Yuri left Justice Tower a few minutes after six, he still had no messages, and the idea continued to haunt him on his way to the supermarket, and in the confines of his vast, deserted house. He paced up and down in the kitchen like a caged animal, starved for more than just a hot meal, and when the nursing staff finally brought Olga Petrov home, Yuri greeted his mother with greater warmth than he had felt for her in years.

"Ah, you're back, Yuri!" Olga sounded equally pleased to have him. "Did you have fun at your friend's house?"

Yuri hesitated. He had pierced the haze of her stagnant consciousness once, and only once on the subject of Kotetsu, and the idea that he was seeing a man sent Olga into violent hysterics. A Tiffany lamp shattered inches from his head. His mother screamed and called him slurs, not just to his face, but in front of the nursing staff the next morning, and Yuri had to consider himself lucky that they regarded it as little more than a misunderstanding filtered through a diseased mind and blown out of proportion.

In comparison, treating Kotetsu as his friend from middle school became preferable. It prevented Yuri from addressing his problems, but his chest threatened to burst, and she offered an outlet. He latched on.

"Y-Yes," his hand slipped to his fringe with a nervous smile, to curl a lock around his finger. "We had a lot of fun, thank you, Mama."

"I'm glad," she cooed. "I'm so glad you've made a good friend at school. You like him very much, don't you, Yuri?"

Yuri stared at her surprised, but she seemed perfectly immersed in her rose-tinted hallmark card world, and regarded him with softened looks. Yuri stepped behind her and guided her wheelchair to the table set for three, glad for an excuse to hide his flushed face.

"W-What makes you say that, Mama?" he forced himself to ask as he fetched their dinner from the hot stove, one pot at a time.

"You always talk and smile more after spending time with your friend," Olga explained patiently, as though it were perfectly natural that the fog in her head managed to strangle her sense of reality, but let completely random and transient details seep through and form clear-cut patterns.

"But to have a sleepover almost every week, Yuri…" she carried on once he joined her at the table and served her. "What do you boys do when you spend the night there? Do you play games?"

Yuri clamped down on his bottom lip before he might have blurted out something vulgar, something actually worthy of a Tiffany lamp.

"We, talk about our interests… sometimes we watch films," he strained to recall things that weren't related to fried rice or intercourse. "We.. also play games, yes," I play coy and he fucks me, "and when we get tired, we say goodnight and go to sleep."

"That's what I thought," his mother nodded along. "It's so good of his family to have you over so often… oh, Yuri, why don't you invite him to our house sometime? We would love to meet your friend, wouldn't we, dear?" she turned to the chair on her right with a tilt of her head. Yuri's skin crawled as he glanced to that empty space and back.

"I.. don't think that's possible, Mama," he tugged at his fringe. "He has a strict curfew, you see…"

"Aww… well, I guess it can't be helped," Olga shook her head. "You're both at such a delicate age, I really can't blame his parents for being careful. To be honest, Yuri, I don't think I could've let you spend the night there with a good conscience if your friend had been a girl, but since you're both boys, it's fine. Boys can be so physical, and a little selfish, too… It takes time for them to grow emotionally, and start caring about others and not just themselves, but you'll understand all that when you're more mature."

Yuri's fork and knife clinked against the plate.

"What..?" he stared at her wide-eyed and pale, his hands tightening on his utensils.

"Are you daydreaming, Yuri? I said, you'll understand when you're more mature," Olga repeated herself with a doting smile. "Right now, I'm sure all you care about is playing games and having fun, and think little about the feelings of others, or even your own, but when you're older, you'll discover the beauty of truly caring for someone, and committing yourself to a more serious relationship. Ah, I do hope you'll find yourself a nice girl when you're older..!"

"I… I'm not interested in girls, Mama," stammered Yuri, but her smile didn't budge.

"Of course you're not, Yuri," his mother humored him. "Like I've said, you'll understand what love is when you're all grown up. Isn't that right, dear," she turned to her right again, and tilted her head with a calm "Yes, yes."

With that, the subject seemed closed, and Olga resumed eating in good spirits, while Yuri sat through the rest of the meal in hollow silence, unable to eat, speak, or breathe.

He hardly knew how, but that evening passed away like any other. When dinner was over, Yuri cleared the table and washed the dishes while his mother watched television. He showered and reapplied his makeup to make himself presentable one last time. He joined Olga in the living room for the news, and took her to bed once she had fallen asleep in her chair; and when he had no more strength left to occupy himself, Yuri wiped his face clean and crawled into bed, where exhaustion claimed him before his thoughts might have torn him apart.

Yuri woke up to a gray world.

He looked in the mirror and saw an apparition the color of ash. The only thing alive on that face was the scar, burning like a beacon in the fog.

His mother's lips moved, but her voice washed up on the shores of his consciousness as debris and flotsam. He gave up on deciphering it. Memories of last night crept back on spider legs and tangled him in her words.

The drive to Justice Tower took an eternity, even with the radio on.

No New Messages

Yuri gritted his teeth. He lowered the floodgates and sealed everything away, then threw himself into the haze.

"Mr. Petrov, what is your opinion?"

"Here are the case files you requested…"

"That'll be fifteen dollars, please."

"We'll put it on the agenda…"

"I think we're done here, thank you, Petrov."

No New Messages

The drive back seemed even longer than before. Leaks sprung up between the boards and the floodgates caved in, filling the car with flotsam and debris. It followed Yuri inside the house and lapped at his waist, climbing higher. By the time he collapsed into bed, it rose to the ceiling and left him suffocating.

Unable to sleep, he curled up in the middle and tugged at his hair. He let it grow out in defiance of the clock that stopped ticking the day his father died, as a testament to all the years they had spent in denial. As soon as his burns stopped aching, he smoothed out the cracks with plaster. His mother gathered the scraps of her happiest memories and sutured them together, trapping herself in a marriage that still worked, and her son in middle school. Every two weeks, she got her hair cut as she had done for over a decade, while Yuri let his grow as a measuring stick. She only noticed after he had graduated from middle school - in the outer world, anyway. As soon as he entered the house, the achievement disappeared, and he had nothing to show for his age beyond pale tresses of hair that grazed his shoulders. Without them, he might have gone insane.

As the years passed, he grew desperate for signifiers. He bought his first dress shirt at the start of high school, and in his final year, he replaced his school bag with a briefcase. He chose his ties and suits more carefully than his meals. When they first had sex and Kotetsu left marks on him, Yuri reprimanded him, but come dawn, he spent several minutes admiring those dark blotches in the mirror. He couldn't show them to his mother, but their existence armed him; he could go home and play pretend without questioning how far he had come since adolescence.

He had a few marks on his right shoulder from their last date, but they did not belong to a fully matured adult who knew exactly what he was doing. Not anymore.

You'll understand what love is when you're all grown up.

Yuri hid his face in the pillow, drowning in flotsam and debris that threatened to bury him alive.

The next morning, it took some effort, but he could breathe again.

For a while.

No New Messages

Yuri clenched his jaws and closed the window, then left his office for his nine o'clock meeting.

It was a mistake to get involved with Kotetsu, he told himself as he sipped his coffee and syrup in the forgiving darkness of the conference room. How did he ever delude himself into thinking it was necessary?

For all Kotetsu had done for him, Yuri didn't love him. For all the excellent choices he had made during his career, Yuri couldn't trust him. If by some miracle, they could have become perfect strangers to each other, he would have seized the opportunity with both hands.

"Mr. Petrov, is there anything else?" asked Alexander Lloyds.

Yes, there is, Yuri clipped on a smile and stared the man right in his pretentious face, I put it to you that Kaburagi T. Kotetsu should disappear from my life permanently, and you as his employer could solve most of my problems. Please fire Wild Tiger. I am not above begging you.

But instead, what he said was, "No, I think that will be all," and approved Wild Tiger's next community event, his guest appearance in a radio drama, and Apollon Media's designs for a poseable Wild Tiger figurine that doubled as a glorified refrigerator magnet. (And the same for Barnaby, but that was beside the point.)

At least it was finally the weekend, Yuri thought on the way back to his office. Not that anything could stem the tide of administrative and judicial paperwork, but being allowed to stay away from Justice Tower for a while brought some bittersweet comfort.

He pushed his key in the lock and turned it. The door gave way at once. Had he forgotten to lock it? He could have sworn he had—

Yuri's heart skipped a beat. On his desk rested a large padded envelope that certainly hadn't been there half an hour ago, with his name stamped on it in black marker.

Yuri took a step back and looked around. The hallway yawned empty in both directions. He slipped inside, closed the door, and walked around his desk, his pen knife drawn before he reached his chair. He cut the envelope, pressed the sides to widen its mouth, and tilted it over his desk with a light shake. A tie slithered out - the hook and clasp tie Kotetsu had torn two days ago -, along with a folded piece of paper. Yuri plucked it up it with trembling hands.

Fixed your tie. Sorry for everything. Have a good weekend.

Kotetsu

Yuri's gaze fell to the tacky eyesore in question. He lowered the note, but changed his mind at the last moment and tucked it in his jacket, then reached for the tie, scooping it up with both hands. On closer inspection, he saw a handmade reinforced stitch around the hem holding the eye, done in a thread that closely resembled the original.

He didn't know Kotetsu could sew. He didn't seem the type.

Yuri's hands tightened on the fabric, but before he might have wrung it, he stuffed it back inside the envelope and banished it to his briefcase.

He stayed in his office for the rest of the day, save for two lengthy trips to the vending machine by the elevators, but saw nothing of Kotetsu, and by the time Yuri left Justice Tower a few minutes after six, he resented the weekend with all his wretched heart.

He didn't love Kotetsu after all. He hated him, for all the pain and torment Kotetsu put him through.

Yuri stopped at a supermarket for groceries, and when he arrived home, he forced himself to cook dinner and eat it at the table like a sophisticated adult, to savor the present before the clock would unwind, regardless of signifiers.

The bell rang ten minutes after seven. The hands ground to a halt.

"Yuri, I'm home," his mother gave him a cheerful wave as the nurse pushed her wheelchair inside, and closed the door behind her with a bow. Olga paused to admire Yuri's long hair and impressive height, his expensive designer tie and custom tailored lavender suit. Or so it seemed.

"Did you have a good day at school today?" she asked with a smile, and time unraveled in an instant. Yuri swallowed. His fingers sank into his fringe.

"I.. Yes, thank you, Mama."

"I'm glad to hear it," Olga's eyes followed him as he walked past her to push the wheelchair into the living room. "Did you get a lot of homework?"

"N-No.. No more than usual."

"Good… go do your homework tonight, and then you'll have the weekend all to yourself," she twisted in her seat to give Yuri's hand an affectionate pat. Yuri released the handles of her wheelchair and turned on the television, choosing a classic movie channel.

"Ah, that's one of my all-time favorites," his mother leaned back in bliss, and unable to take that away from her, Yuri turned around to do as he was told.

In the safety of his bedroom, he opened his briefcase, and glared at the large padded envelope inside. He snatched it up and tossed it into the bottom of his wardrobe.

He took off his suit, and draped it onto one arm while he reached for the right hanger. As he tugged the jacket onto the hanger, a folded piece of paper flitted to the floor.

Yuri picked it up and unfolded it. His jaws clenched and the note crumpled in his hands.

He didn't even want the tie back. The psychedelic patterns were unpleasant enough, but the hook and eye clasp collar took the whole thing from tacky to downright offensive. What on earth possessed Kotetsu to spend money on that monstrosity, let alone give it to him as a gift?

A memory tugged at his sleeves: his first night with Kotetsu. Yuri reached for his tie, and spent several seconds feeling for the tail and prodding at the knot until Kotetsu broke into laughter, and popped up his shirt collar to reveal the hook and eye. Yuri stared at him blankly. He pinched up the severed ends of the collar and unhooked the clasp as though he were dismantling an alien artifact. Kotetsu pecked his lips in praise, and Yuri only regained his composure when Kotetsu spent a full minute struggling to untangle his perfectly ordinary tie. The idiot…

His face scrunched up. He stole a guilty glance at the envelope laying on the bottom of the wardrobe, but his shame proved stronger. He hung up his suit, tucked the note into its pocket, and locked it all away.

He closed his briefcase and lay down, staring at the ceiling. Around him, the mattress unfurled into the unknown like an endless wasteland, with duvets for shelter and nightmares for mirages. He roamed that wasteland on and off for hours, a sole castaway, unable to find his way in a place so vast, so barren and… empty…

I hate waking up to an empty bed all the time.

Don't be ridiculous… I wouldn't call that empty.

Yuri buried his face in his hands. Something hot oozed between his fingers, burning more than any flame.