This story is based on the origin of the Egoist couple, and is almost like Nowaki's counterpart to The Void and the Starry Night Sky. It's less dramatic, and more relaxed than the three previous one-shots in this collection.

Discovering Love's Expansion

My wristwatch beeped, signaling the turn of a new hour. After my paper route, I boarded my bike and headed in the opposite direction of my next job. I had called the manager in advance to tell him I'd be late, and gave a false excuse. My honest and reliable side couldn't be bothered; there was too much zooming over me. I had something else to take care of, and that something left me partially insecure. Nothing about the morning was in order. The sights above weren't of interest to me. The air against my skin and the whiff of newsprint on my jacket were the only things that resembled my daily life.

As a kid, I'd often gaze at the blue sky with an arm outstretched, as if reaching for something beyond myself. I held a strong curiosity for greater possibilities, but never quenched it. My younger self couldn't afford to follow a path so uncertain, regardless of how much my heart wanted to. Whenever I was tempted to stray, I'd hear laughter and quiet sobs; watching my little brothers and sisters experience the joys and trials of childhood straightened me into place. In the orphanage, I had unspoken responsibilities to uphold. As the oldest, I watched over them; I was conscious of my actions and did my best to set good examples.

As long as they had smiles on their round faces, behaved well amongst each other, and had dreams to aspire to, I figured my actions had helped them. If I continued with clear intentions, my efforts would bring positive outcomes. When I started living on my own, I tried to apply a similar mentality. I would be cautious and educate myself before moving forward—that was the side of myself I had known, the side of myself I tried to believe in, and the side of myself that was steadily drifting from me.

I arrived at my destination and scanned the tall apartment complex. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the silver key which provided me a reason to be there. A faint flow of gold and sapphire showed upon the small object. As I tilted it, the reflection of the clouds passed over the metallic surface, making for a transfixing spectacle. I exhaled and lightly shook my head, wanting to escape my imagination before I began wallowing in it. Walking towards the structure, I wrapped the key in my hand and dwelled on the event attached to it.

My actions from the previous evening were outrageous. On impulse, I had pestered a man I'd only just met. His narrowed eyelids which housed fiery cinnamon jewels, and his raised voiced which exited through full and soft lips, were fresh in my mind. Normally, I wouldn't have acted in a way to set someone off, much less continue if they didn't like it. But despite the man's exhibited annoyance, I held onto his slender arm with persistence, followed him to the front door of his home, and tricked him out of his key.

I had my reason for pursuing him, but I couldn't understand it. I wanted him to be my tutor—that was the only concrete explanation I had, but it hardly justified why I had acted so precariously. Half of me didn't want to believe yesterday's incident happened, while the other half thought of it as a thrilling chase with every ounce of excitement one could hope for. My nerves rattled when I opened the door to his apartment that morning. I knew another side of me had emerged in full. I had no idea what I was capable of.

When I entered, my eyes met a shoji screen with weak shadows bordering its speckless rice paper. I slid open the entryway and was introduced to, what appeared to be, a neatly kept academic storage room by the vast collection of books housed inside—they filled out the shelves, with countless stacks laid along the sides. Across from the cluster, I saw the brunette top of the man's head; he was asleep and snug under the covers.

I knelt at his bedside and was caught unexpectedly by my heart's reaction. My pulse quickened and branched across my chest; a heat crawled up my neck and touched my face, resulting in a pleasant rush. His hair fell to the side, landing sweetly over his cheek, and crossing over his eyelashes. The smooth light, coming in through the curtains, helped to accentuate the peacefulness of his sleeping face. The sound and motion of his breaths clothed me in the intimate atmosphere. His natural presence created a comfort in me.

My fingers hid beneath the softness of his locks, wandering over his scalp. Images of yesterday revisited, causing me to rediscover the joy and satisfaction that occupied me as his glimmering brown eyes widened and gazed in reaction to my touch. The experience was endearing, and I hoped I would have many more opportunities to do it. His name glided gently along my tongue, "Hiro-san."

As a low-delicate moan rose with his chest, I vaguely saw the form of his muscles through his shirt. His eyelids flickered, giving me previews of his winsome hue, before opening widely in surprise. He shot up in bed, scowling and yelling furiously at me in a fitting rage that could've impaled the walls around us. It was clear he wanted to repel me, but his bouts of ranting, his furrowed brows, and his feisty energy only intrigued me further. I wore a calm facade, though I truly wanted to laugh and smile. Early on, I knew I had quickly grown attached to Hiro-san. I needed to be near him as much as I could.

I was fascinated by the wealth of knowledge Hiro-san possessed, even on subjects that didn't interest him. The study guides he wrote for me were extremely helpful; he was in-depth and clear with his explanations. While frowning seemed to be a subconscious habit of his, I heard the passion and enthusiasm in him when we reviewed classical literature. He was the living embodiment of every text inside his apartment and beyond, crossing worlds and boundaries I only dreamed of reaching before. His intelligence was charming, and I was honored to be accepted as his student. We had settled into a regular study schedule; the lessons were planned out, and I was on track to take my high school proficiency exam, and to apply for college. My goals were in sight, thanks hugely in part to him. With every meeting, I became more aware of the impact Hiro-san had on me.

On occasions when we ate meals together, I was completely drawn in—watching his expressions, his mannerisms, how his lips settled on the rim of his glass. Sometimes he'd ask me what I was staring at, and I'd pretend to be clueless to his reference. During our sessions, listening to Hiro-san's voice became less like receiving information, and more like a savored auditory experience. I was dowsed in his elements—his confidence, and his tenderness. I could hardly keep up with my swelling affections.

We sat in proximity at the small table in the center of his apartment, reviewing an extra set of questions. Having him so close, nearly arm to arm, aroused an exhilaration in me. The tips of my fingers quivered against the pencil as I jotted down my final answers on the worksheet. After finishing, I passed my page to him, trying to act normal in face of an anxiousness I hardly had control over.

Hiro-san's sight roamed the table and floor, looking for his misplaced pen, before wandering in my direction. "Um…" he scratched his head, narrowing his eyes and looking down towards his lap. "May I use your pencil?"

I nodded, handing the writing tool to him. Our digits touched during the exchange, and his hand froze for a short time before accepting the pencil. He guided the pencil over the worksheet, hovering the lead in a circular motion as he shifted down the page, looking for an opportunity to strike. In the midst, I noticed, or at least I thought I'd seen, Hiro-san's digits trembling quietly like mine had. I glanced at his profile, wondering if we shared the same feelings, but a more sensible possibility came to mind. Considering Hiro-san's devotion to his work, and the countless hours he spent rigorously writing and typing, his hands were likely fatigued.

"Are you okay?" I asked, laying my hand over his. The joints of his fingers jumped at my contact.

He abruptly pulled his hand away and snatched the paper from the table top, slapping it against my chest. "Y-You made some errors! Fix them!" he exclaimed in a jittery manner.

"...Thank you."

Hiro-san turned slightly from me, his eyes completely covered by his bangs, collapsing just above the pink color that appeared on his cheeks. It was the same color that flourished when he became irritated or flustered. It wasn't the first time I'd done something to bring out that complexion in him. I figured it was merely a reaction to my unexpected gesture. His blushing face reminded me of the variety of roses I'd arranged at my job—all in soft shades, all in full bloom, all at the height of beauty. The rainbow of pastels had me hoping for something greater, something that could take us beyond my dreams and, most importantly, beyond Hiro-san's sorrow.

When I first laid eyes on Hiro-san that afternoon in the park, I was hit immediately with a sense of admiration. I saw the tears trickling down his face, and through the sadness, a brimming spirit filled with passion and integrity. I wanted to learn more about him—the reasons for his pain, and the things that brought him happiness. The time we spent together helped me realize the depth behind my actions and the emotions that fueled them.

My attachment to Hiro-san was more than a case of strong admiration. He was a magnet pulling me in; I was fascinated, overwhelmed, and completely inspired. My younger self always tried to be careful, but after our first meeting everything I did had a hint of recklessness in it. A boldness thrived within me. He had me at first sight, I'd never wanted anything or anyone so badly. The moderate blueness that encased my world was now part of a spectrum. I reached to Hiro-san, wanting to eradicate the scars of his heart, to fill his loneliness, and to give him the experience of warmth overflowed. I reached to him knowing that I could do all of it for him. Love, there was no other word to describe my feelings, and there was no other word to label what kept me going from there on.

With my head rested cozily on the cushioned back of the couch, I held the old key before me as my mind fondly traveled through our earlier days. If I hadn't taken the chance, letting my persistent side rise, I would have missed out on everything wonderful in my life. Despite how exhausted I was from work, and the mild cramp in my shoulders, the memories refreshed me. I remained in place as I heard the front door unlatch, and listened to the echoes of Hiro-san's motions. He was groaning about something beneath his breath as his footsteps resonated. I envisioned him walking my way.

"Nowaki," he announced in rising intonation. He hadn't expected me to arrive home before he did.

"Welcome home," I said tilting my head back further against the couch to greet him.

"You seem out of it," Hiro-san undid his tie before bending over to rest his forearms on the couch. His eyelids seemed heavy; his tiredness showed, yet he was so perceptive of me. "What's that?" he asked, referring to the object in my hand.

"It's a copy of your old apartment key." I raised the key for him to get a closer look.

Hiro-san's eyes widened as he examined it. He probably didn't want to be reminded of the small and restricted living space of his college days. "Where did you come across that?"

"I've kept it beside my bed. You didn't notice it before?"

He stared at me in disbelief before chuckling briefly, "How would I notice?" Hiro-san placed a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes momentarily, "So...is it like a sentimental charm for you?"

I lifted from the couch and turned, extending an arm to caress his face. "Yes." I replied happily.

His bottom lip parted as tensity visited his eyes, shortly transforming into an excited, almost profound, expression as if he'd just discovered something brilliant. He covered his mouth and stepped back from the couch. More than likely, the odd beginnings of my courtship were playing in his thoughts. I knelt on the seat of the couch, and ran my hand over Hiro-san's hair. "Are you remembering?"

His brown eyes peeked at me as his voice came through muffled, "Having my privacy invaded by a stranger isn't something to forget."

"Well, you didn't try hard enough to push me away." I kissed the knuckles his lips were hidden beneath and hugged his slim body to me, with the key held securely in my grasp.

"If you had done that to a woman and she reported you, you would've gotten into a ton of trouble." Hiro-san lifted his hand, revealing his flushed cheeks. I seized the opportunity, leaning forward, pressing my lips to his. I tasted ingredients of onigiri on his tongue, along with the other contents of the bento I'd made for him in the morning. Hiro-san curled his fingers around mine, lifting them to gain access to the key. His digits brushed against my palm as he captured it.

"This was mine," he brought the key between us, tipping and turning the metal material, allowing the light in the room to dance along its edges, " and you stole it." He gazed straight into me with an unexpected calmness, and features softened by nostalgia. He dangled the key at his fingertips and placed the item back into my palm, hooking his index around my thumb; his eyes focused on our linked digits as his lovely pigment grew brighter. "Keep taking care of it, just as you've done all these years."

The message transmitted through Hiro-san's words had me soaring. "Of course..." I responded, cradling his palm in mine, making sure the key was safe and protected, "but I really should be saying something along those lines to you."

"You're ruining the code." He cased the key in my hand, curving my fingers and pushing forcefully towards my chest.

"There's a code?" I responded, pretending to be clueless.

"Just be quiet," he whispered as his face grew more relaxed. Though he was awake and engaged with me, I could see that traces of work and sleepless hours were about to claim him. I smiled nonetheless, tugging the end of his sapphire tie, slipping it from under his collar. He brought his arms over my shoulders, resting his weight on me. I embraced him, stroking his back as we soaked in tranquility. We were surrounded by a decade's worth of color in harmony.

End