Chapter Text
Kojiro couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. When he heard his alarm blaring in his ears, he knew his time was up. He hadn’t slept at all, just staring at the ceiling of his apartment. His eyes were red, dry tear tracks making his skin feel gross. The suit waited in his closet. He needed to go. He needed to be there. Kaoru was waiting for him.
He swallowed, sitting up, his movements almost robotic. Kojiro was moving on auto pilot as he walked through the silent apartment. It was empty because something, someone was missing. Kaoru. Kojiro slipped on the black suit, attempted to fix his hair and just looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. He had dark circles because the amount of sleep he had gotten the past week could be counted on one hand.
He swallowed, unshed tears lining his eyes for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that day. He wasn’t strong enough for this. He sighed, splashing water against his face. Realistically, no one would judge him for crying, actually it was to be expected. But he had to be strong, strong for Kaoru. Strong for his husband.
This was probably going to be the hardest thing Kojiro had ever done in his 26 years of life. All he could see in the mirror was the 26-year-old widower that he was. This was so unfair. Life was so unfair.
He checked his phone and saw it was almost 9:00am. Shit, how far was the venue? Kaoru would know. Kaoru would have Carla map out the directions and would have them out the door on time. Kojiro shut the bathroom light and left the bathroom before he could think any more about Kaoru.
The drive to the funeral home was a silent one. He tried to turn on the radio but the only thing that played was some pop song that Kaoru had said was stupid. It felt wrong to play it on a day where Kaoru was supposed to be respected.
Kojiro didn’t realize the tears were falling until they reached his cheeks. He was lucky he didn’t cause an accident with how disassociated he was. The road didn’t seem to exist, only his unsurmountable grief. It was supposed to be him and Kaoru forever. Till death do us part wasn’t supposed to happen 2 years after they got married. 80 years wasn’t even long enough. His love for Kaoru transcended infinity.
Kojiro’s hands were shaking against the wheel as he drove. There were a few honks from behind him, but he managed to make it to the funeral home in one piece. When he parked, it all washed over him again. Kaoru was here waiting for him, but he wasn’t. Kaoru always ran cold but not even Kojiro’s arms could warm him anymore. There would no longer be any warmth beneath those gorgeous golden eyes.
Kojiro’s breath shook, his knuckles white as he grasped the steering wheel. No sound escaped his lips but there was a scream in his throat somewhere. He knew breathing exercises from long nights of comforting his husband, but none seemed to be helping right now.
His mind was racing, everything reminded him of Kaoru, He was breathing rapidly, no, he was hardly breathing. He was going to pass out. Tears fell into his lap as sobs ripped out of his throat. His world was crumbling down around him. Kojiro wished it was him. He should've taken that beef instead of Kaoru. Adam now had husband’s blood on his hands. That was always how it seemed to play out wasn’t it? Adam took Kaoru from Kojiro. In high school and now.
Adam took Kaoru.
His grief hardly overpowered his anger. Soon Kojiro might have blood of a certain blue-haired man on his hands. He was furious. All his thoughts seemed to dissipate when a small knock was heard from his window. Kojiro furiously wiped his eyes, blowing his nose in a random take-out napkin and then looked out the window of his car. What he saw broke his heart further.
It was an utterly distraught looking Miya. Kojiro almost jumped out of the car. He enveloped the small boy in his arms. He knew Miya’s parents wouldn’t have taken him, so he must’ve boarded here.
Normally, Miya wouldn’t have allowed so much physical affection, but the pre-teen practically crumpled in Kojiro’s arms.
“I miss him so much,”
The boy barely managed to heave out the 5-word sentence. Kojiro held him tighter, if that was even possible. He leaned down, fully enveloping the boy.
“Me too kid, me too.”
He tried to hide the shakiness in his own voice, but he assumed it was probably poorly executed. Miya had been invited, but Kojiro had hoped he wouldn’t show up. Of course, this was only wishful thinking because the boy practically clung to Kaoru. It wasn’t that Kojiro didn’t want Miya there. It was because he didn’t feel like they young boy should see Kaoru like this. He should remember Kaoru bright and full of life, not cold and dead. Hell, Kojiro himself didn’t even know if he was prepared to see it.
After a few moments of quiet reassurance, Miya slowly let go of Kojiro. He would be lying if he said holding Miya didn’t provide him some sort of comfort. It was mostly for Miya’s comfort, but it felt nice to hold someone else.
The pair quietly walked inside together, Kojiro holding his breath the whole time. They sat down, neither of them daring to speak in the silent hall. Kojiro closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander before Kaoru’s other guests arrived.
“I don’t think he’s being cared for properly at home.”
Kojiro looked up from behind the bar, seeing Kaoru staring down into his wine glass, eyes vacant.
“Huh?”
Kaoru seemed to realize he had spoken that out loud and took a moment to collect his thoughts.
“Miya, I don’t think his parents are properly taking care of him.”
His voice was soft, his thoughts apparently somewhere else as he spoke in an almost far away tone.
“What makes you think that?”
“He’s here every day for food, he’s being worked to death, and he’s never at his own house.”
Kojiro walked out from behind the bar, throwing the rag he was using to clean over his shoulder. He sat next to his husband, pouring himself a glass.
“You worried about him?”
He expected Kaoru to get defensive, maybe retort some insult back at him. But he did no such thing.
“Yes. Severely.”
Kojiro took a small sip of his wine and wrapped one arm around his husband, pulling him slightly closer.
“He’s a tough kid, but he loves you. You do as well, so I’m sure with you around he’ll be okay.”
“But what if I can’t be there for him?”
Kojiro is awoken from his thoughts by a small tap on his shoulder. His eyes were slightly damp, but when he blinked, he saw everyone. Everyone was here to see Kaoru. He stood, giving a small wave to everyone. Miya clung to his side as the group was led by one of the funeral directors led them to the room with Kaoru’s casket.
Every step felt like Kojiro was being weighed down. He took a deep breath, loosely holding Miya closer to him. The small group consisted of Kojiro, Miya, Hiromi, Reki, Langa, and Kojiro’s immediate family. Of course, Kaoru’s family wasn’t there. Anger flared through Kojiro at the thought of Kaoru’s parents not even wanting to go to their own son’s funeral, but then again, Kaoru wouldn’t have wanted them there any way. That thought calmed some of the flame in Kojiro.
Before he knew it, they were outside of the small room that held the casket. He took a deep breath, his hands shaking as he realized Kaoru was so close. So close yet so far. He tried to wet his throat as it seemed to have gone dry, but nothing worked.
The funeral director opened the door and allowed everyone to step inside. Kojiro closed his eyes as he slowly stepped in. He held his breath and then finally, he opened his eyes.
His breath caught in his throat. There he was. Kaoru was there. Right there. Tears filled his eyes, his lips parting slightly. His husband, the love of his life was dead in front of him. A lump formed in his throat as he balled his fist, nails digging into his palms. He looked so pale, paler than normal. They must’ve applied make up to him because there were no bruises on his face whatsoever. Kojiro couldn’t breathe. He wanted to throw up. His knees wobbled, hands shaking. Kojiro could do nothing more than whisper.
“Kaoru.”