"I want to break up," Gojyo says.

Hakkai finishes hanging the last shirt before turning to him. "What?"

"I want to break up."

Hakkai looks at him, really looks. Gojyo's smiling that casual 'that's just how it is' smile, the one that says he's doing something unpleasant but necessary. There's no helping it, is there?

"What," Hakkai says again. "Why?"

"Eh, do I have to go into all of it?" Gojyo scratches his chin, where stubble is growing in, dark. "You don't like guys, I don't like guys, we don't work together. The sex is fine, but it's not like it is with girls, huh? I'm breaking up with you."

I understand, rises on Hakkai's lips, of course, Gojyo, I entirely understand. It dies on his mouth unmourned.

"No," Hakkai says.

Gojyo stares at him, incredulous. "No?!" he repeats. "That's--"

But he doesn't finish saying whatever it is, because Hakkai has closed his hand into a fist, hauled back, and punched him hard in the mouth.

"No," Hakkai says, and picks up the empty laundry basket, and returns to the house.

***

This is what they have made of the house during the time Hakkai has been there:

It's a three-room place to begin with. There is a living room, and a bedroom, and a kitchenette (although the kitchenette shares space with the living room and has no door, so it is technically part of the living room), and a bathroom. Gojyo has been sleeping on the bed in the living room when he is out late. Hakkai has been sleeping in the bed in the bedroom, whether or not Gojyo is out late.

The contents of the living room are:

Single bed (which doubles as a couch when pushed against the wall), Gojyo's pillow, card table, chairs, screen to get changed behind. There is a picture on the wall, an illustration of some rice paddies. Gojyo is not sure when it got there.

The contents of the bedroom are:

Double bed (large enough for two when one gets comfy), Hakkai's pillow, window, small table that doubles as desk, books that Hakkai has somehow acquired with money that Gojyo isn't sure the source of. There is no closet. If Hakkai wishes to keep his clothes somewhere, he must fold them and leave them there or in the living room. Gojyo leaves his clothes in the living room.

The contents of the kitchenette are:

Stove, sink, fridge, coffeemaker, table with a setting for two (but there are two extra chairs which move between the card table in the living room and the kitchenette). There is a bowl of fruit on the table. The fruit is fresh. Dish rack, with drying dishes. The cupboards are stocked. The fridge is stocked. There are leftovers carefully packaged in there. Occasionally when something is getting a little old, Hakkai reminds Gojyo it exists, and it vanishes shortly after.

The contents of the bathroom are:

Toilet, shower, sink, medicine cabinet. There is no towel-bar yet, but Gojyo has promised to put one up someday; in the meantime, they hang their towels over the door. The medicine cabinet is full of painkillers, bandages, gauze, even some medical thread. It is partially depleted.

***

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Gojyo demands at dinner, around the ice pack. Out of deference to his injury, Hakkai has made soup.

"I said what I meant," Hakkai says. "If you say that again, I'll hit you harder next time."

***

Whenever Hakkai goes into town to shop, they greet him by name, tell him the deals. Usually, they ask him how Gojyo is doing. Hakkai is sure by now they suspect that Gojyo and Hakkai are lovers. He does not like to go in during the evening, because the selection is lower before they close their stalls, but he has been so distracted that day that he has no choice; they're out of eggs.

He smiles, and tells them, "I'm sure he's quite well."

Even the women like him, a generosity that came quite unexpected. Hakkai finds himself quite fond of them all in return, that these people are so fond of Gojyo that they would accept him by extension, at least in certain parts of town.

("He helped my son out once," the old woman who runs the fish stall told him a few months ago. "My boy had broken his leg, and thugs were trying to pick on him. Sha-san kicked them all to the ground and told them he'd do worse if he saw them again. Please, take some salmon."

"I'd be glad to," Hakkai had said.)

***

That night, Hakkai goes towards the bedroom and Gojyo reaches out, grabs his hand. The bruise on his cheek has purpled nicely.

"It's just that you loved her," Gojyo says. "So damn much. I mean, during that thing today, that girl, I don't know how much she looked like her, like your sister, but this look in your eyes, it was--"

"You want to break up," Hakkai says evenly, "because I loved my sister when she was alive?"

"It's not that," Gojyo says. "It was more than just, more than just because she was your sister. You loved her. Despite the fact that she was your sister, because she was your sister -- I don't know, but. You just. Loved her. And so the fact that she was your sister, I don't know, you can't say it didn't matter--"

"Of course it mattered, but that's not the point," Hakkai says, calm. "I loved her, yes. Whether or not she was my sister, I would have loved her. Do you think I would sleep with someone I didn't love? I'm a very private person, after all. Good night, Gojyo."

"It's just that I'm saying, I can't live up to that. I don't have anything like that, so there's no lead-in, there's nowhere for it to start. I can't live up to that sort of past. I can't, the pressure of that is -- shit, Hakkai. You loved her so damn much, what the hell am I?"

"I'm not strong enough for this," Hakkai tells him as gently as he can. "Especially if you won't listen." He shuts the door behind him.

***

It opens again at midnight.

"Oh," Gojyo says, dumbstruck.

"Yes."

"Oh."

***

Gojyo moves his pillow into the bedroom.