Soma stood up and went to lean against the stern of the sightseeing boat. Even in the darkness, the glow of the spotlights betrayed the silent tears streaming down his cheeks. Sana sighed.

Knowing that she spent her days with Sei, he had ultimately been unable to resist questioning her about him. Regarding his health, she had been delighted to reassure him; Sei seemed, indeed, unlikely to suffer any significant lasting effects from the tragedy. As for the rest, however… she could hardly hide that Sei was more serious about Saneda-kun than she had initially believed… but as Soma himself had rightly pointed out, the opposite would have been surprising.

Admittedly, they didn’t seem that close yet, but after all, they had only been “intimate” for such a short time… If both truly wanted it, and considering what they had already endured, they might stand a chance at happiness.

Ugh… Why did they have to be in France?

She despaired at having to leave them under such conditions, especially Soma. It was strange how roles had reversed. She stood up in turn and joined Soma, pressing herself against his back.

“It’s been, what? Almost eight years? It was Sei crying in my arms, and now… Oh Soma, how did you two end up like this?”

Soma didn’t answer but placed his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. They remained like that for a moment before she questioned him again.

“Tomorrow evening I’m having dinner with them to say goodbye, but… could we have lunch together Friday noon, before I leave?”

“One of the meetings I had was canceled… I…”

He turned his head and offered her a faint smile.

“I think I’ll take a day off to spend a little more time with you.”

“You can?” Sana straightened up. “That would be great!”

 

~*~

 

Ryô woke at dawn, after a night where sleep had clearly eluded him until the very end. He remained lying down and turned toward his companion, observing the bare chest upon which the rays of the rising sun played insolently.

He had finally come to terms with the idea that even he could appreciate the near-perfection of this male body. Seishi-san had also eventually made him admit that he himself certainly had no reason to complain… After all, if he had been more “unattractive,” perhaps he wouldn’t have had those troubles with his “family”… but he couldn’t help feeling ridiculously small and puny next to Seishi-san…

K’so, how could that Yamamoto woman be taller than him?!

Not to mention the scars. Although Seishi-san paid them no mind, Ryô knew they would shock many people.

Seishi-san had changed him, introduced him to many new experiences. And Ryô knew that Seishi-san himself was no longer the same as upon his arrival in Africa, or even upon his return to France.

He gently placed a hand on his companion’s chest.

Yet, there was one thing he had failed to possess… but could he truly blame him? He himself wasn’t entirely sure of his feelings toward Seishi-san. He had shared more with him than with anyone else, even intimately. Physically, he finally knew what pleasure was, although the fact that he had learned this from a man still astonished him. They shared an almost perfect understanding… but would it truly be different with a brother or a very close friend as they had become.

Even during sex, he felt that a step hadn’t been taken, that a certain reserve remained on Seishi-san’s side. Especially when compared to those damned photos to which he couldn’t help but compare everything. Those few photos in particular, where Seishi-san and this Noguro had been caught sleeping and were invariably entwined or in some kind of contact.

Ryô checked the time and gently shook Seishi-san.

“Mmm…”

Seishi-san opened one eye with difficulty.

“Ryô? … Good morning…”

Ryô shivered. He still wasn’t used to hearing his name whispered like that. Seishi-san had spontaneously adopted this more familiar usage after… that shift in their relationship. But Ryô remained incapable of doing the same.

Seishi-san pulled the young man closer.

Ryô responded to his kiss enthusiastically but tried to curb the desire rising within him so early in the morning. Apparently, his body had decided to remind him of his age and make him pay for those years of neglect. If only time could stop at this moment.

“You’re going to be late.”

“La… owwwnnn… have to?” Seishi-san groaned.

“I think so,” Ryô smiled.

Seishi-san sighed deeply, then forced himself to rise.

“I’m not used to it anymore.”

He prevented Ryô from doing the same and stretched lazily.

“It’s your morning off, enjoy it. I’ll have breakfast over there.”

Ryô nodded, and Seishi-san disappeared into the bathroom, grabbing his things, which, of course, he had prepared the night before.

That morning, Seishi-san had a preparatory meeting with the team he would be working with, and he had warned he would likely eat lunch on-site. Ryô grumbled. That brunette would surely be there…

Seishi-san came out of the bathroom, and Ryô watched him with interest.

He was still unaccustomed to seeing Seishi-san in neat trousers and a shirt. He sighed. That girl wasn’t going to let go…

Seishi-san leaned over the bed to kiss him.

“Have a good day… I’ll call you at lunchtime if I can, okay?”

Ryô nodded and swallowed hard.

“Goodbye, Seishi-san,” he murmured as the latter left the room.

Seishi-san was resuming his life, had reconnected with his family and friends. He was no longer alone… and Ryô rejoiced that, as he wished, Seishi-san had ceased being paralyzed by the past. Only one thing remained missing… something Ryô himself was not… and something he was obstructing.

Ryô sat on the edge of the bed and burst into tears.

And him… Seishi-san had been right at the beginning. He had sought a bit of love, not a love story. And that wasn’t what Seishi-san needed. They had helped each other, but that was no longer enough, would be less and less sufficient, and it risked becoming worse if they continued like this. And he was afraid; he didn’t want to ruin everything.

And it was true that there were so many differences between them: age, maturity, Seishi-san’s friends… Seishi-san imposed very few of them on him, and everyone had been kind to him, but he still felt the gap. And, even if he didn’t show it, deep down, Seishi-san must sometimes feel uncomfortable around him.

What would people think seeing Seishi-san constantly with such a “youngster”? If the truth came out, it would probably be disastrous for him. Seishi-san had been enthusiastic when Kervellen called to tell him he was going to become a father. What would Seishi-san do facing his friends and their children while having a young man constantly at his side?

And then… there was his past. He himself had never felt guilty about what he had been forced to do in the past, but now, facing Seishi-san, he couldn’t help but wonder. How would Seishi-san react if he knew? Seishi-san, so concerned with morality and principles, and so extremely devoted to the person he loved… Did he have the right, with his past, to impose himself on Seishi-san, to share his life?

Seishi-san had so much to lose, and he himself clearly had everything needed to be a danger to his reputation, and who knows, even to Seishi-san’s father and family. He had already struggled to meet their eyes since he and Seishi-san had been hiding from them, since they were… He swallowed. If some day that past caught up with him… Even though Seishi-san’s father and the NFV had tried to limit their exposure, his name and a few stolen photos had leaked to the press. He shuddered and pushed the idea away.

He shook his head. He knew that if Seishi-san was sincere, he would do his best to overlook all that; after all, he had more or less done so already for this Noguro… but for him, was it worth it? Weren’t their respective pasts too heavy to bear?

Whatever he did, when Seishi-san was with Camille-san or Yamamoto-san, he felt the full force of everything that separated them: their memories, their habits… and, even if they avoided mentioning it precisely, how much Noguro had shared that life with Seishi-san. It had been glaringly obvious with Yamamoto-san the day before. Despite all their efforts, he felt excluded by that past… and by the shadow of Noguro perpetually hovering over them. It always came back to the same point.

Ryô passed a hand over the spot where Seishi-san’s warmth had now vanished.

All this was new and could evolve, that was true… but the past seemed too heavy, and he was no longer sure Seishi-san could, or should, free himself from it without betraying himself. And he himself was no longer sure he could claim to have the feelings necessary to fight. His fist tightened on the sheet.

“I told you, Soma was… Soma. I have never truly been attracted to other men, and even if I were, I would never allow myself any inappropriate behavior toward you.”

“K’so,” he raged.

Their discussion had been prophetic. He had known what to expect, from Seishi-san’s own lips.

They had each allowed themselves to overcome their blocks, now…

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked at his bag, in which was the number Ikeda-sensei had given him.