Chapter 1: Flowers

There were two things that were on Kamijou Hiroki's mind on the first day of classes at M University. The first was wondering why he always got stuck with the students who had no appreciation for literature, and the second one was Usami Akihiko's car lurking outside the university. The man himself, in his tall, three-piece-suited glory, was just leaning casually against the sleek, red sports car, his arms folded. When Hiroki got out of his class and glanced out, Akihiko had been smoking a cigarette. Someone had approached him and told him not to smoke on school grounds, however, and he had actually complied.

As Hiroki narrowed his eyes and went about arranging his paperwork, he couldn't help but notice that Akihiko was in a surprisingly good mood. Hiroki himself was a brooder, as had been pointed out to him by family, friends, and even his senior professor, Miyagi (multiple times, and with suggestions that he needed to get laid), but Akihiko was a different kind. They'd been friends since they were kids, and Hiroki could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen a genuine smile on the man's face.

Well, Hiroki thought with a snort as he glanced over at the doorway when Miyagi came ambling in, that wasn't entirely true. Every time Hiroki saw Akihiko with Takahiro, he was smiling like he was the happiest man in the world. That had been back in college, though, during their undergraduate career. Hiroki had spent increasingly less time with Akihiko since then, and when they did meet up, it was mostly Akihiko smoking out on his spacious balcony while Hiroki sat on one of the couches in his living room, reading through a manuscript.

Akihiko himself probably wouldn't say so, but Hiroki had felt a strain on their relationship since their last undergraduate year. It wasn't because they hadn't spent time with each other even though they hardly got the chance to. Hiroki had been working on his thesis and entry into graduate school, and Akihiko had been writing and preparing to enter law school. The thing that Hiroki couldn't forget about every time he saw Akihiko's face was that one afternoon when he'd tried to make his feelings known, and had left with nothing but regret.

"Kamijou-sensei!" And there was Miyagi, his voice a singsong lilt as he leaned over from his chair and tried to put his arms around Hiroki's shoulders. Hiroki leaned away and Miyagi actually fell to the ground, yelping in pain as the corner of a book stuck him in the stomach. Their office floor was practically tiled in books, individual ones tossed there when one of them was in frantic research mode or stacked in piles according to a system that both understood but neither could explain if asked. He wiggled around until he was laying on the floor on his back, a paper stuck to his chest that he ignored. "You're so mean!"

"And as I told you last semester, you're one inappropriate touch away from sexual harassment charges, Professor," Hiroki said, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. He noticed that the paper stuck to Miyagi's chest was his, and he leaned down and picked it up. "I honestly don't understand how you're so highly ranked in the department when you can't even work without me holding your hand."

"Aw, you'd hold my hand?" Miyagi asked, a grin on his face as he watched Hiroki snap his briefcase shut. "Maybe you aren't as mean as I originally thought." He held out an arm as if he expected Hiroki to take it, and then frowned when he was ignored. "Hi-ro-kiiiii."

"I'm going home. Goodbye, Professor." Hiroki purposefully walked around Miyagi's sprawled-out body even though it involved knocking into one of the stacks of books and sending it crashing to the ground. The last thing he heard before he closed the office door was Miyagi screaming in terror as he was, Hiroki supposed as he pulled his beanie over his eyes, buried in an avalanche of books.

Hiroki walked through the halls of M University, muttering to himself about incompetent superiors and ignoring the terrified looks from students who were in his classes, and even a few who weren't. Miyagi had gotten a lot more clingy towards him since his divorce with his wife had been finalized, although to Hiroki's relief, the older man actually spent more time at home. The previous semester he'd practically lived in their office even before the word divorce came up, chain smoking and sleeping on their raggedy old couch when he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

Hiroki himself couldn't say he knew what it was like. He'd had an unrequited love for Akihiko almost since they met when they were ten, and despite the failed attempt at courting him six years previously, those feelings still came up every now and then, twisting his stomach and making traitorous tears prick at his eyes before he could wipe them away. But Akihiko loved Takahiro, who in turn was straight as a board and just as oblivious as one. It was like the relationship chart for a shojo manga, or in this case a BL one: Hiroki loved Akihiko, Akihiko loved Takahiro, Takahiro was oblivious to it all, and Akihiko was too concerned with being a good enough friend to stay close to him to even look twice at Hiroki when he'd see them together and suddenly have very itchy eyes.

However, if anyone asked Hiroki if he read the kind of manga that he was comparing his pathetic excuse for a love life to, he'd scoff and say he'd never read the crap. He'd also claim that he was twenty-eight-years-old and therefore too old to be concerned about asinine love triangles, but that didn't stop Miyagi, among others, commenting that perhaps he needed eye drops whenever he started rubbing at his eyes.

As Hiroki took off his glasses and went through the front doors of the building, he realized with a start that Akihiko was still there. Hiroki just stood there, staring, barely noticing the student that had his head ducked as he tried to make it through the door and past Kamijou the Devil with all his limbs intact until the guy stopped at Akihiko's car, his head still ducked. When Hiroki actually paid attention to his surroundings, he realized that there were quite a few students lurking the grounds, staring at Akihiko and his fancy car and the boy that apparently knew him well enough to be quite vocally pissed-off that he was there in the first place.

Akihiko, for his part, just smiled widely and took the boy's attacks like they were nothing. Then he indicated the car, and as Hiroki got closer, he heard the boy say, "I told you I can get home myself!"

"Akihiko!" Hiroki yelled, and the boy, previously ready for battle, tensed his shoulders and shrunk down as much as possible. Akihiko didn't look the least bit fazed. "Stop hanging around. You look suspicious enough on your own."

"I was just here to pick up Misaki," Akihiko said, raising his arm with a flourish as he indicated the poor boy who looked like he'd rather sink down into the cobblestone path than continue this particular conversation. "I'm guessing he's one of your students."

"Probably." Hiroki's classes were all big lectures, so he hadn't exactly had the time to memorize all the delinquents' faces yet. He didn't remember this one. "And why exactly are you picking up one of my students?"

Akihiko suddenly turned and realized that, with him distracted, Misaki had slipped away and disappeared down the street. He'd probably get him back for that later. "Ah, Misaki is Takahiro's younger brother."

"So you're doing Takahiro another favor." Hiroki had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He'd learned long ago that anything but blind praise towards Takahiro often got a very negative reaction from Akihiko.

Akihiko ducked his head, and despite that he'd been told not to smoke, he reached into the pocket of his coat and produced a cigarette. He didn't light-up, though, just moved it through his fingers. "Takahiro moved away recently, due to a job transfer. Misaki was already accepted here at M, however, so I agreed to take him in."

"Takahiro's gone."

"And married." There was a bitter smile on Akihiko's face at that. Suddenly he looked up, though, and Hiroki's eyes caught Misaki standing there across the street, looking ashamed. He crossed and muttered to Usagi that he forgot the pass code for the building and so wouldn't be able to get in. The smile became genuine, and as Hiroki turned to leave, he caught out of the corner of his eye Akihiko leaning down and kissing Misaki after opening the passenger-side door for him. Misaki looked flustered, his cheeks turning red, but he still got in the car with nothing more than a, "Stupid rabbit!" and perhaps a sideways glance at Hiroki, probably wondering how Akihiko knew him.

Hiroki tried to keep his mind blank as he walked along. Normally he'd take the subway home, but there was a flower shop between his apartment and the university, and he wanted to go in there. He was by no means a flower person, but his mother had called him earlier that day to not-so-subtly remind him that it was her birthday. There would be one of the typical high-society parties to celebrate it, but Hiroki had given up dealing with those sorts of things a long time ago. He knew if he didn't do something, though, that he'd never hear the end of it. He'd recently moved, but it only took his mother one call to Akihiko to get his new address.

When Hiroki finally got to the store, he vaguely noted that one of the employees was outside, watering some sidewalk displays. He was tall, taller than Hiroki was necessarily comfortable with, but he had a gentle look in his eyes as he went about his work. Hiroki averted his eyes and went in, only to notice there was no one there.

"Ah, I'm very sorry," came a voice, and Hiroki turned to see the tall employee coming back in. He put the watering can aside and bowed. "I'm the only one here right now. How can I help you?"

Hiroki noted the name Kusama from the man's nametag, but didn't necessarily feel like he needed to be on a name basis with this man he'd probably never see again. "Yeah, I was hoping to get some sunflowers. A dozen, I guess."

"Of course." The man had a gentle smile as he led Hiroki over to the sunflowers. "For someone special?"

"My mother's birthday," Hiroki muttered as he ran a hand over one of the flowers. They were vibrant and healthy-looking, and it kind of pissed him off. "You guys deliver, right?"

"Yes but… since it's your mother's birthday, wouldn't it make her happy to see you?" Kusama asked. He had gathered up a dozen out of the buckets and was bringing them over to a work table to he could prepare them.

"I don't think it would make a difference to her." He had his arms folded and he was staring off to the side mostly so he could avoid looking at the worker, who kept sending warm smiles his way like they were the best of friends. The man handed him a sheet to fill out for the delivery, and he did so as the flowers were cut and wrapped.

With his business done and money handed over, Hiroki turned to leave. He had already seen what the flowers looked like, and he didn't know much about flowers, so his opinion on the bouquet probably wouldn't make any difference. Besides, he had mild social anxiety when it came to strangers, and he just wanted to get home so that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away. The worker was humming to himself as he finished, and he said something like, "I won't be able to deliver these until my boss gets back," but Hiroki wasn't paying enough attention. He did, however, pay attention when the man said, "See you later, Kamijou-san."

Hiroki had opened the shop's door enough to ring the bell over it, and when Kusama said that, he stopped, turned, and stared at him. The fact that he had chosen, "see you later," instead of "goodbye" bothered him, but instead of commenting, he just shook his head and went on his way.

So, uh, surprise? I bet the only ones who saw this type of story coming from me are the few I actually talk to over IM and such XD It's been in the works for a bit but I've had trouble starting it. And no, this doesn't mean my other fics are on hold. Once I'm out from under the crushing weight of college finals, I'll once again be writing like my ass would catch fire if I didn't :)