At first - 5

Taste

It only took one night to change everything.

It had started out the same as any other day. Kubota woke up first, on the couch, and started a pot of coffee. Tokitoh got up eventually, and emerged from the bedroom, asking about breakfast. Afterwards, Kubota called Kou and headed out for work. "See you later," he called from the hall.

"Yeah!" Tokitoh yelled back as he sat on the couch, holding his coffee in his left hand and gingerly pressing the remote buttons with his clawed right.

Hours passed as they always did. In that space, Tokitoh napped, played video games, scrounged though the pantry, and stepped out to the balcony. The early spring air was cool, but not cold, and smelled fresh somehow, even with all the cars driving below.

He got bored a lot. When Kubota left the apartment to work or do whatever else he did, the place seemed very...empty. When he talked about what was on the TV, there was no one to talk back, or answer his questions, or just sit there and smoke that shit Kubota smoked all the time.

He'd gone out a few times. Kubota had gotten him some clothes that were his own size, and he'd gone to the convenience store and the bookstore. It was really strange at first, being around people who weren't Kubota or the hack, but he got used to it pretty quick, and no one saw him as anything different, especially since he always covered up his right hand with a glove. When he wore that, even he thought he was halfway to normal, and definitely not as weird and out there as Kubota.

It took time for him to get used to it though, going out, being around crowds. A part of him still stayed alert, but he never knew why, or what he had to look out for. It just stayed there in the back of his mind, and sometimes...sometimes in his dreams, but they were never clear either, just dark and...

He blocked that out of his mind. He hated thinking about his dreams since they brought up so many questions he could never answer, and he could never ask Kubota about them either. It was a reality that he didn't want to share, even though inside, he wanted to know what it meant.

Some time in the late afternoon, he got bored enough to head out. He tied on his sneakers, slipped on his coat, and locked the door. His hand stayed on the knob for a moment. Kubota had left him the key, and he wondered if it was the only one. Always when Kubota came back, he knocked on the door and waited for Tokitoh to open it up. What would happen if Kubota came home, and he wasn't there?

"...Maybe it's not the only one." Wouldn't it be stupid if it was? Why would Kubota leave the only key with him? What kind of weirdo does that?

Kubota was weird...but not that weird, he reasoned. He's got to have his own. Tokitoh pocketed the key and started down the stairs.

He didn't have any money though, so he only looked around. He noticed that people at the bookstore never bought books. They only stood around and read them, so he did the same thing, going through some magazines on video games and then some comics. After a while, he looked out through the store window, and saw that the late afternoon sun had dipped below the buildings.

It was getting late. He left the store and started back. The air was cool, and it felt more like winter than the spring it was supposed to be. He could even see his breath. It looked like the smoke that always came out of Kubota's mouth.

He wondered if Kubota was home yet. He usually got back some time before dark. Tokitoh rubbed his gloved hand against his bare one. When had it gotten so cold? When he got to the building, he started up the stairs, but stopped as he saw someone familiar walking down them.

Kubota's face was expressionless. He nodded to Tokitoh, and then walked past him.

He turned, "Hey, where are you going?"

"Out," Kubota answered. "There's nothing to eat. So, I'm going out."

Tokitoh watched his back as he walked further away. He broke into a run. "What the- wait!" He caught up to him and started to match his pace. "Where are you going?"

"Out. I told you."

"But weren't you 'out' all day?"

"Yep."

"So, now what?"

"Dinner. I told you."

"I know that, but-" Tokitoh stopped and watched at Kubota kept walking. Finally, he called out, "Where are we going to eat?"

Kubota stopped, but didn't turn. The light from the streetlamp above him made his breath look even whiter.

"Kubo-chan?"

Kubota started to walk again, but this time he headed across the street, towards a ramen stand. Tokitoh watched as he sat down at one of the stools and waved to the man behind the counter.

"What's his problem?" He followed. The seat next to him was taken by an older man, so he sat on the one at the end of the counter. The cook looked over at him. "Whaddya want?"

Tokitoh turned to Kubota who seemed to be staring at the TV behind the counter. "I'll have what he's having." He pointed.

"Two salty ramen, coming up." The cook turned back to his pots of steaming noodles.

Tokitoh bit his lip. He hated salty ramen. He wasn't the only one who knew this. He looked over to Kubota, who was now looking back at him.

"If I remember correctly, you told me once that salt ramen was, and I am paraphrasing here, the shittiest shit that ever did shit. Am I correct?"

Both the cook and the man sitting next to Kubota turned to look at him.

He could feel his face burning. "That's just...your salty ramen."

Kubota nodded. "I see."

The man next to Kubota placed some coins on the counter and got up from his stool. Neither of them moved to fill the space.

"Two salty ramen," the cook called out as he placed bowls in front of them. Tokitoh gazed down at his, and without looking towards Kubota, he picked up his chopsticks, broke them into two, and started to eat.

Damn, he hated this stuff. His lips puckered from the intense taste of soy sauce, but he kept slurping.

"A glass of water, please," he heard Kubota say, and then in the corner of his vision, he saw something put next to his bowl. He looked up to see Kubota pull his arm back from where he placed the glass.

At first, he didn't reach for it, but after a few more slurps, he grabbed the cup and started drinking. After putting it back down, almost half-emptied, he rubbed his sleeve across his mouth, and kept his gaze on his bowl. "...Thanks."

"I know how much you like it," Kubota went back to his own soup.

When they finished, Tokitoh looked back at him and patted his pockets. "I don't got anything on me."

Kubota nodded and paid for both their bowls, and without a word, got up to leave. Tokitoh watched him start down the street, and followed after.

"Are you...mad or something?" He had never seen Kubota act out any emotion- angry or scared or anything. He wondered if this was it.

"No." He took out a cigarette and lit it. "I was just...surprised, I guess."

"About what?"

"About how much I missed my key." He looked straight ahead as he talked. "I only got one."

"That's stupid." It came out before he could think of something else to say, but that's the way it always was.

"Yes, it probably is."

He reached into his pocket and took out the key. "So, here. Now, you won't miss it anymore."

Kubota kept walking.

"Hey, didn't you say that you wanted this?" He waved the key at him.

"No, I said I was surprised about how much I missed it." This time, he stopped. "I was surprised to come home and find it not there." He looked at Tokitoh. "I thought that maybe, it was really gone, and I realized that I...missed it."

This didn't make any sense to Tokitoh. "You didn't miss anything. I just went out, but look," he held it up. "If you want it that bad, take it, or make another one. Can't we do that?"

Kubota puffed out his cheeks, and let the air out slowly in a thin white line. He reached into his pocket and brought out something, and held it out to Tokitoh. It was a key identical to the one Tokitoh held.

"What the- so you got one! What's your problem?"

"No problem." Kubota patted his cheek and started walking again.

Damn, he never could figure him out. "Then why did you act like you couldn't get in?"

"I didn't. I said there was no food, and there wasn't."

"So, that's why you're mad?"

"Who said I was mad?"

"But-" Tokitoh didn't know what to say. Even though Kubota weirded him out, and said strange things all the time, he thought he knew him well enough to read a little of his emotions. And tonight had definitely been different from any other night. "I say you're mad, 'cause you are. I don't know why, but you are. So..." He threw up his hands. "Whatever. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking the key that you also have. I'm sorry I don't have any money so I couldn't buy dinner. I'm sorry that I'm such a big fucking inconvenience to you, and you gotta be all mad and shit-"

As he talked, he didn't know what he was saying- words just streamed out of him, just like their white breath. With each word, he saw Kubota take a step closer to him until their chests were only a few inches apart.

"-and then you gotta say stuff that- look, I don't get half the shit that comes out of your mouth-"

Then Kubota leaned down so his head touched his own, and he stood there with their foreheads resting against each other. So close, Tokitoh could smell cigarettes. "...what are you doing?"

"How was the ramen?" Kubota's breath was warm against his skin.

"It sucked."

"I didn't think it was so bad."

"Well, it was." Tokitoh had a hard time looking at anything else with Kubota right on top of him. "It was even worse than your curry."

"Your ringing endorsements always warm my heart."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

He wondered how long they were going to stand like that. His breath kept fogging Kubota's glasses. He felt Kubota's hand on his, opening his fist and taking the key he had been holding, and then something slid into the pocket of his coat. "Kubo-chan?"

Kubota stood straight up and walked away. "It's yours. Keep it."

Tokitoh stayed in that spot. "I don't get you at all."

"That makes two of us." Kubota kept walking.

He sighed, shook his head, and then followed until he passed him. "Hurry up. It's freezing out here."

They walked back to the apartment, and when they got to the door, Kubota leaned by it, and waited. Tokitoh shot him a look as he reached into his pocket and took out his key.

Later, as he lay in bed, and listened to the TV still playing in the living room, he thought back to what Kubota had said, and how he had leaned so close to him.

I thought that maybe, it was really gone, and I realized that I...missed it.

As he listened to those words in his head over and over, he wondered if all that stuff Kubota had said really was all about keys. He licked his lips and grimaced. He could still taste that salty ramen, even after brushing his teeth. He licked his lips again, but somehow they felt even drier.

"Maybe I need some water...or something."

He got up out of the bed and opened the door, but instead of walking to the washroom, he headed down the hall, to the living room and kitchen. There, he found Kubota on the couch, not watching the still-on TV, but also not reading the book on his lap. He was just staring straight ahead. He turned to Tokitoh. "Oh, you're awake?"

What a weirdo. "What does it look like?"

"Was it the TV?" Kubota moved to reach for the remote, but Tokitoh went into the kitchen.

"Nah, I just wanted some water."

"Ah." Kubota still turned off the TV. The living room became quiet, and it seemed strange, alien.

Tokitoh could hear himself gulp the water down. Somehow, the salty taste still stayed in his mouth. He put down the glass, and turned back to the living room. He motioned for Kubota to move over on the couch. "I wanna sit too."

"You don't want to go back to bed?"

"I said I wanna sit, so I'm sitting. You gotta problem?"

"No problem." Kubota sat up and gave him some room. "Anything else, O'Great One?"

Tokitoh shot him what he hoped was dark, angry look, but Kubota only smiled back. "I still got that stupid ramen taste in my mouth."

"Ah, sorry to hear that."

"I can't get it out. Whatever I do, it just stays there." He pointed to Kubota. "It's your fault."

"I didn't make you order it."

"Still, your fault."

"Okay then. What am I supposed to do about it?"

He didn't know what to say to that. He looked around the room, his gaze finally resting on the pack of Seven Stars on the table. "Can I have one of those?"

"I thought you hated cigarettes."

"I do."

"So, your logic is saying that you should eliminate the taste of one thing you hate with the taste of another thing you hate? Something tells me this is just going to continue the problem."

"It won't." He shook his head. "'Cause, I don't really hate those." He nodded to the pack. "I mean, I do. They reek like ass. But I don't because..." He kept his gaze on the cigarettes, and away from Kubota. "I don't because they smell like you, and I don't mind that so much. So, I'm thinking that if I don't mind that smell so much, I probably won't mind the taste. I mean, it's gotta get rid of the shit that's in my mouth right now, so, anything will do and-"

He stopped as Kubota's head again lowered in front of his. "Trust me. You won't like them," he said. "So what if I just blow on you. Would that help?"

Tokitoh swallowed. This seemed weird, so so weird, so so so weird, but still… "No, that won't do it."

"Then what?"

He'd realized when he been lying in that bed, thinking about what Kubota had said, what he had meant about the key and the "missing" thing and all that other stuff. And he realized, that...it made him happy to know that if he left, Kubota would miss him. That being here wasn't a big fucking inconvenience, or not enough of one anyways to make him open the door with his own fucking key.

And he realized that the reason why he left, why he got so bored in the first place, was because he had missed Kubota. He had missed the way he said things that never made sense, and the way he smoked constantly, stinking up the whole apartment, and the way sometimes he touched his hand when he thought Tokitoh was asleep. He would sit there and just hold his hand, and nothing else, and Tokitoh realized that he missed it when Kubota finally let go and walked away.

He...missed…

He missed-

"This." He closed his eyes and moved his head only a little, just a little forward, just a little bit. It was almost an accident, he reasoned, that his lips happened to touch Kubota's. And it was because he was too tired that he didn't move them away.

And it must be because Kubota was tired since he didn't move away either.

His lips did taste like cigarettes. It was so true, it was funny, and he smiled.

"What?" Kubota asked. He moved an inch away. "That bad?"

He didn't know what to say. Everything jumbling in his head seemed stupid, so he settled on, "Yeah, you're the worst."

"Well, that makes two-"

He hated that Kubota always said that line, but this time, he didn't let him finish it.

That victory tasted sweet.

At last

In bed, with the late night quiet blanketing the streets outside, Kubota lay.

But he no longer lay alone.

His hand rested on top of the blanket, and he felt the form beneath it, gently rising and falling. He edged closer, but stopped as his slight movement squeaked the bed they lay in. In the quiet, the sound seemed even louder than it was, but even with that small disturbance, the rhythm of breathing that raised and lowered his hand did not change. He chanced his luck and shifted over a little more until his head rested right above Tokitoh's. So close, he could smell the soap and shampoo that they both used in the bath before they had gone to bed. He lowered his head until his nose touched still-damp hair, and there he stayed. So near, his chest lay against Tokitoh's back, and every time he breathed in, he touched his warmth, over and over again.

Too dark to see clearly, and his glasses lay off on the table, but below his hand, and against his chest, and resting beneath his head, lay everything that reminded him that he shared this bed. When the light of dawn would stream through the window, warming all it touched, he would see this everything again.

See it, and then taste it.