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Mizael closed the door behind him. Just a foot away, is the porch of the building where he lives. He sits there, lights a cigarette, before taking a breath.
The hot smoke never ceases to amaze him, by the shapes it takes in the cold night of winter.
He waits. Like every night, he watches out for a distinctive silhouette. The one belonging to a former Galaxy eyes master who has captured his heart. The one he lived with for two peaceful years.
Who would have known that two rivals could become lovers in their next life ? Especially when one has killed the other ?
Meeting again was not easy. They both agreed to start over again. Kaito didn't want to live again for the purpose of vengeance.
They became good friends, spending most of their time together, talking about dueling or classes. Mizael would listen everytime Kaito related his day, dedicated to the research of the Astral World. Kaito would listen everytime Mizael experimented with something new. They had the back of each other. Mizael didn't want to break what they had created. Even if he began to hope for more.
It took him three years before gathering his courage to ask Kaito out. Surprisingly, it went way better than he had imagined.
''Sure, why not ?''
Mizael remembered this bubbling feeling that invaded his stomach. It was like the galaxy had a party inside his intestines.
He began to smoke during his last year in highschool. Kaito frowned every time he kissed him after he had finished a cigarette. Saying that the taste was awful and that it would kill him before he could have grey hair.
Mizael had answered that he would be the death of him.
The addiction was strong. But he soon became hooked on his presence, his whole being, his touch. He craved his affection and more than one time, they both fell asleep on the same bed, hugging each other. So when Kaito denied him his daily dose of ''them'', threatening him to stop kissing him till he stopped this crap, Mizael had no other choice but to comply.
Nicotine was a drug. Kaito's love is panacea.
At first, nothing seems to go wrong. Their friends weren't that enthusiastic but they didn't disapprove either. That was not the same story with his father, but Mizael believed that he slowly was accepted as his boyfriend. He always feels more confident every time they would be holding hands. Feels like a special connection, even if he still can't read the weirdest thoughts that cross Kaito's mind.
Mizael knows he can be nominated as a tactile person. He wondered if this bothered Kaito, every time he asked for a hug or something. But he never said anything, always inviting him with a single movement of hand. Too often Mizael has climbed on his lap and stayed there for god knows how long. Kaito used to pat his long hair, appreciating the softness under his fingers. He always has been proud of his looks, and taking care of his hair was something that he did on a daily basis.
Sometimes, when they are in one of their bedrooms or the living room, Kaito will shift to the bed or the couch, and Mizael lies there, his head on his lap. He held his hand, staring at the ceiling while Kaito was still reading a book. Rarely, Kaito shared with him a sentence or two he found interesting. Mizael didn’t understand their full extent, but he paid attention since it made him happy.
The first time, it was when Mizael went to the laboratory, to meet Kaito there. It was where he and Chris were leading their research.
His long hair caught his attention, as the older brother of the Arclights was on the steps. He naturally walked toward him.
Kaito was just standing behind him, masked partially by his bigger silhouette. When he heard Mizael call his name, a fragment of pure panic crossed his eyes, before making an urgent movement in order to make Chris turn around. The man did it, and a veil of empathy covered his gaze as Mizael asked how he’s doing.
They returned home by foot, but not a single time Kaito initiated the movement to take his hand. It was a rare fact (never if he was honest), and Mizael didn’t pay too much attention to it.
The second time didn’t go unnoticed. The third time even less.
Kaito has told him that he prefered to avoid it. Mizael didn’t insist.
(Even though he was almost sure that the blond refused to do it for an unknown reason, as he buried his hands inside his pockets.
It was summer.)
It was much later that Mizael realized that his lips were frozen the moment he saw him. Before, when he did indeed, came right into one of their conversations that he didn’t understand a single word about it (Who was this infamous Newton and the Coriolis force ? ), Kaito and Chris ended their talk.
But this day, it was a brutal stop.
What could they have been talking about ?
Mizael didn’t want to ask anything from his former mentor. First, because he estimated that he could at least guess which sensible subjects Kaito didn’t want to talk about when he was here. Then, Christ would have alerted Kaito.
And it was the last thing Mizael wished. He didn’t need to give him reason to worry.
There was something that bothered him. Mizael saw it. But every time he asked, Kaito dismissed his doubts with a “It’s alright. Nothing too important.”
Nothing too important, huh ? Maybe their love falling apart ?
He saw it when holding his hand, hugging him, and having small talks. At first, Mizael thought he wasn’t comfortable with it, but he remembered the time when Kaito initiated those contacts.
For now, there was this odd feeling, like a cold wind every time Kaito was holding him. Mizael couldn’t prevent himself from shaking. Situations where they used to be comfortable around each other became rare and soon, even saying “Hello.” was something hard to pull off.
Mizael wanted to laugh at this.
Communication was important but when Mizael observed him, it was like he was drowning inside parasyte noises. His voice couldn’t reach him, only pieces of sound passing through the barrier.
“Sorry, you’ve been talking ?”
How many times Mizael has stopped right in his tracks, before replying a soft “No, it was nothing.”
Everything has become nothing.
Mizael wondered if Kaito considered him as a bother, as the ex-Barian still struggles to understand the world around him. He didn’t know what Kaito expected him to be.
Hell he even tried to learn about informatic with Orbital 7. The robot surprisingly complied with his request. He taught him whatever he wanted, blabbing regularly on his fateful lover, Obomi-chan.
Mizael has smiled fondly when his circuits were burning from joy, the first time she has said “Love you too, darling.”.
(Obomi never used Orbital 7 for whatever reason. Maybe because she spends too much time watching soapy movies alongside the grandma of Yuma.)
Scrap by scrap, piece by piece, Mizael absorbed those knowledge. Maybe he will finally have a proper conversation with Kaito, once he knows the basics.
It didn’t go as well.
Mizael did in fact learn a lot with Orbital 7, but Kaito didn’t seem to care too much about it, aside from a “Great.”.
It was always a nice remark and countless times he beamed with joy at those words. But they lack their usual warmth that Mizael only has seen when he was spending time with his little brother.
Once or twice, as Kaito was spending a night in the Heartland Tower, Haruto had included him whenever he was talking with the blond, and Kaito would become somber and for a weird reason, nostalgic. He excused himself quickly, before going to carry on his search on the Astral World.
“You know, if you didn’t pass by frequently, we wouldn’t even hear of you.” Haruto said as Mizael was leaving.
Those words sank into his stomach like heavy rocks.
More and more, the former Galaxy eyes photon dragon user would watch him like he was a good old memory he could not remember anymore. Sad tone and dull eyes, and Mizael had wanted to shake him, to make him see him.
Hate was something. Ignorance has been worse.
It was around December that Mizael found his boyfriend talking with Droite in their kitchen, holding a mug of coffee.
“I might have been overstaying.” did she say, before promptly leaving.
“Welcome back, Mizael.” did Kaito say as he was washing the mugs.
The blond pretended to not have seen the spark that flashed in his eyes when Droite smiled.
Did doubts begin to invade his mind ? He would be lying by saying no. But he kept them inside, supposing that he was overreacting. Droite was indeed a really good friend and it has been a while since Mizael didn’t see her. Plus, if something was on the mind of Kaito, he probably wanted to talk to someone who knows him much longer than he.
(Even if he remembered hearing Droite complaining about his cold demeanor. Gauche has confirmed, before adding that because Kaito has always been secretive.)
So Mizael waited for him to be at least comfortable enough to lower his guard. What was the point of living together if he didn’t enjoy it ?
Soon, he wished for a place in his schedule.
Mizael no longer knew what Kaito was doing of his days (not that he was stalking him but for the love of Ra, he freaking can’t tell a single thing Kaito has done at some point.) And when he initiates something, he regrets it almost instantly.
His grey eyes pierced right through his soul, with this weird look. Like he needed to change something.
Mizael didn’t know what.
This strange inspection was always concluded by him nibbling his bottom lip, before paying attention to his last words.
Around January, Mizael noted some changements during his visits at the Heartland tower. No longer did his name was working as a pass, and he had to resort to calling Faker.
Saying that the scientist was displeased was an euphemism.
“How long will you stay ?” Like the heck did he know !
(It was no longer true anymore : his last visits have lasted around 15min.)
“Kaito, you have a visitor.”
It hurts him, at first, before he no longer cares. There were far more important things than Faker’s opinion on him.
He also noted that Droite was mostly already there. And how Faker used a different ton with her.
Mizael spent a lot of time thinking about it. Did he do something wrong ? He was pretty sure he missed the signs.
During those visits, Mizael pretended to not see the look of pity Haruto gave him, each time he tried to capture his attention. Nor when Kaito was talking with Droite with the same fondness he used to have with him. Nor when Faker slowly begins to treat him as a stranger.
But they knew it. That it was the beginning of the end.
One day, as Mizael woke up earlier, he saw Kaito on the doorstep. He was holding a backpack.
''I have to go for a few days for work. Be right back so don't worry, okay ?''
Mizael believed him.
Day 1 passed. Day 2 too. Day 3 …
The week has reached its end and there is no trace. No call. No message. Mizael couldn’t even contact Faker nor Haruto. The last conversation with his father had been pretty cold. He didn’t know if he's ready for another one.
What did Faker see in him ? A burden, a trash ? A poor soul running in circles day and day ?
People were saying he was too proud. That's true. But why would he abandon it, when it's the only thing that is left as dignity ? He knows that's the reason why he can't find any other partner. With his looks, people tend to think he had to fill the role of the submissive. He doesn't want to.
With Kaito, they were two to play this game of domination. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost. But never did he feel like he's been attached to a stereotype.
He understands him, they know each other for what, like eight years by now ? When he tries to rewind his memories, he couldn't exactly replace the moment they became more than acquaintances. More than friends.
(It's not true though. He remembered too well every change, every conversation, every time he stared right through his grey eyes. His so beautiful grey eyes, that people were mistaken for orbs of ashes. Mizael knows better : they were smoked glass mirrors.)
Another breath accompanied by another black cloud. It's a beautiful evening, the sun setting down behind the buildings. He can clearly see the heart of the Tower shining through the dusk.
His throat hurts, but not because of the tar that is slowly covering his lungs.
Tomorrow would be the day that Kaito left. At 6am sharp. 3 years ago.
He honestly doesn't know what he's doing here, sitting there, watching the passers go by. It's still the same show, with the same sun and the same sky, but it tastes bitter. Like an apple that was rotten to the core.
He doesn't know what keeps him attached to this place. He doesn't know why his heart aches so much, why his tears won't dry, why he is longing to hear those words. ''I'm home.''
Why, why, why.
And at the same time, he knows too well why.
Kaito promised him to return home, he just had to wait. And Kaito never broke his promises. Mizael trusts him with his soul.
And when he had called Faker at some point (after trying a hundred times to call Kaito at various hours and days, before hearing the automatic reply that the numero attributed was no longer existing), his father had announced that Kaito was doing his thesis overseas.
When Mizael has asked him for his new phone number, he has said that Kaito didn’t use one anymore, since international communications cost a lot.
Mizael pretended to believe him, as the dull ringing of the finished call echoed in the room.
So he takes care of the apartment that became too big, too empty, and continues to pay the bill – his salary as a technician allows him to do it – make sure that his belongings don't disappear under a heavy layer of dust.
He retrieves back his deck and his D-gazer. When he couldn't sleep, he flips through the cards, recollecting every duel they shared.
Often, he dreamed of this faithful night on the moon. (Too often he concealed his silent scream inside his pillow.)
Galaxy eyes photon dragon lost his brilliance. The corners are worn out. Mizael hopes he can duel him again. Feeling this particular rush inside his veins. When was the last time they actually had a proper duel ?
They're still so much that Kaito said he would teach him. Like swimming, riding a bike, the name of every constellation, hiking through mountains, hell even how to configure Orbital 7.
And Mizael never finished telling his story. Kaito did ask him, before the Numeron code came back to life, didn't he ? ''If there would be a next time we would meet … Wouldn't you tell me, what happened to you ?'' Loud and clear, he repeats them while thinking of his past life.
And during those sleepless nights, his brain couldn't stop those thoughts from plaguing him. The dam broke and he found himself alone in their room, snuggling with the blankets. His scent has gone away a long time ago.
Why did he leave, wasn't he happy, did Mizael do something that hurt him, did he loved him not enough, did he not understand him, did he deceive him, did he …
Toxic thoughts that can't be answered. Each time, Mizael has to do the questions and the answers.
He shouldn't be sulking. Someone like him, in the prime of life, with a decent job and a roof over his head, shouldn't be miserable. There were countless homeless, famished, ill people out there. People who would kill to exchange their situation with him. And still …
He would give anything to find his way back home.
Maybe that's why he got back into the habit of smoking. Hoping that Kaito will be here again to keep his hands away from this shit. That he will kiss the life out of him and re-inflate it at the same time. Hoping that Kaito would not let him destroy himself.
Mizael still hopes for him to come back. Like an abandoned puppy that his owner let attached to a pole in the street. He dreamt of the warmth of his skin against his, the feeling of his fingers running through his locks, he dreamt of those times where they would sit together in the silence of the nights.
He dreams of his return.
The cigarette is no longer burning. He crushed it between his fingers, before standing up. Tonight was not the day. Maybe tomorrow.
His body is shaken by coughs.
Kaito used to compare him to a huge bright star. He hopes he won’t fade away before he can see him again.