The Winter Quarters

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The Winter Quarters Page 15

by Anna Veriani


  “I checked the front of the inn this morning,” Hiro said. “It looked like everyone had cleared out.”

  “The crowd was making it difficult for other guests to come in and out of the inn in peace,” Mrs. Asada said. “We asked anyone who wasn’t planning to stay at the inn to leave.”

  “And they just left?” Hiro said skeptically. “Did you have to call the police?”

  Kai could tell Hiro felt guilty for not having been the one to deal with it. He’d been occupied with Kai’s needs—Kai had been a burden yesterday in more ways than one.

  He wanted to volunteer to leave so they didn’t have to ask, but Mr. Asada spoke next. “Our reservation rates went up tenfold last night. Some of Kai’s fans have booked the inn.”

  Hiro growled. “They’re here? Now? You let in Kai’s fans?”

  “It’s okay,” Kai whispered hurriedly. “I’ll just—”

  “They’re not,” Mrs. Asada quickly cut in. “Not yet.”

  “We have the right to cancel bookings for any reason,” Mr. Asada said, looking directly at Kai.

  This was it. His booking was getting cancelled.

  “We wanted to ask you, Kai,” Mr. Asada continued, “if you are okay with letting fans who don’t pose any risk to you to stay.”

  Kai blinked. What?

  Mrs. Asada seemed to misinterpret his confusion. “It’s difficult to filter out fans from normal guests when they make their reservations online,” she said, “so we don’t necessarily know who booked last night because of you. But we’re assuming that most of them want to stay here to see you.”

  “I told you it would be good for business,” Mr. Asada said with vigor.

  Last night Kai had thought he was merely being polite to hide his true annoyance. But this time he seemed to mean it. Kai felt lighter, shifting closer to Hiro. They weren’t trying to make him go. He could stay with Hiro for just a little while longer.

  “This is only happening if Kai is comfortable with it,” Obaachan spoke up. “Kai came here for privacy and relaxation, and we respect that.”

  Mr. Asada inclined his head. “Of course.”

  “We can easily afford to put all of our bookings on hiatus until you leave,” Hiro said, peering at him. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

  “We were never expecting the Winter Quarters to be booked for so many weeks straight,” Mrs. Asada said honestly. “You’ve been wonderful to us, Kai.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” Kai said, embarrassed. “Thank you, everyone. I really appreciate this.”

  “You’re okay with this?” Hiro asked, looking surprised. “Fans coming into the inn?”

  Yesterday the thought that fans were nearby had sent him spiraling. But that was before Hiro touched him.

  Tell me you know that I love you.

  Kai knew it. He felt it, a warmth inside him. And he felt rebalanced: The thought of a fan approaching him in the inn made his stomach flutter with nerves, but it didn’t give him heart palpitations, didn’t make him feel like breathing was an Olympic task.

  “If you’re with me,” Kai said, “I can handle it.”

  Hiro would never touch Kai in front of his family, but his eyes softened; it was enough, like a squeeze of the hand or an arm around his shoulder.

  “Thank you for trusting us, Kai,” Mrs. Asada said, which was crazy, because Kai was the one who was filled with gratitude.

  Mr. Asada leaned forward and, unsentimental, summarized what they’d just agreed upon. Then he said, “That brings us to our second matter. Obaachan, you told me there was something you wanted to discuss.”

  OBAACHAN nodded and stood. “I won’t beat around the bush,” she said. “I intend to marry Tokuda Ya.”

  Hiro’s first reaction was a nonreaction: just shock, a held breath. He had seen how his grandmother had looked at Ya-san, but he hadn’t expected this the day after. Marriage.

  He turned to his parents. His father was looking up at Obaachan like he was certain he’d misheard her, while his mother was frozen, a hand over her open mouth.

  Obaachan swallowed, and Hiro realized she was trembling slightly. She’d spoken calmly, but he supposed he had sounded calm when he came out to his father too, even as he immediately after stabbed open a sack of rice grains and let them ricochet off the floor.

  “I am not asking for anyone’s permission,” Obaachan said. “I do not need approval from my juniors. I have served this inn well. But as I expect Hiro to become the owner of the inn before the end of next year, I would be honored if he would give me his blessing.”

  “Oh.” He blinked. Then turned to Kai, needing to consult him. Kai smiled encouragingly.

  “Of course.” Hiro bowed from the floor to her. “Obaachan, of course. Ya-san will always be welcome at my inn. She can come live with us, and I’ll help plan the wedding.”

  That was all it took. The stilled breath in the room released itself.

  His father inclined his head. “I respect Hiro’s decision. Mother,” he said, “you have been a widow for more than ten years. You have my blessing, too, even if you’re not asking for it.”

  “And mine,” Hiro’s mother added.

  A strange sense of his own power within the family dawned on him. He remembered sitting outside this room as a boy, eavesdropping on his father’s business meetings. His father’s voice would boom through the walls, and he’d think that he would never, ever hold that much authority.

  There was no mention of her sexual orientation, of Ya-san’s gender. Nothing at all. His parents had gone from ignorance to shock to acceptance in the span of two minutes.

  Hiro looked at Kai.

  I could marry you. The strangest thought. They’d already discussed their potential future together; they’d concluded there was none. But if Hiro said to this room, right now, that he was in love with Kai, how quickly would he earn his parents’ blessing? One minute? Two?

  “It’s nearly seven o’clock,” Hiro’s mother said. “I need to start preparing for morning check-in.”

  “Can I join you?” Kai spoke up.

  Hiro shook his head. “These guests might be your fans.”

  His father nodded in agreement. “Some of the reservations made last night were for this morning. We’re not sure how… enthusiastic they might be.”

  “It’s okay,” Kai said earnestly. “I’m going to have to face them eventually. I’d rather see them on my own terms.”

  To Hiro’s surprise, his mother nodded. “Your help is always appreciated, Kai. Meet me at the front desk at the usual time.”

  HIRO was forced to spend the day away from Kai, meeting with a business associate in Kanazawa City. When he got back it was dark, and the Winter Quarters were empty. He wandered aimlessly around the inn, vaguely ill at ease. Had Kai left while Hiro was gone? There was no reason to think so, but the thought tugged at him all the same.

  “Kai-chan.”

  Hiro stopped near the kitchens. He knew that sort of voice: breathless, awed, the universal tone young women adopted when Kai Ledging was in their proximity.

  Kai was at the end of the hall, surrounded by four young women who were giggling nervously, holding their phones over the heads as Kai posed for selfies.

  “You’re the most beautiful man in the whole world, Kai-chan,” one of the girls stammered, blushing furiously.

  “Thank you,” Kai chirped. Hiro had teased him for it countless times, but he had mastered those two syllables. He said them in a PR-trained tone of voice, with the right mix of confidence and humility. It wasn’t at all how he thanked the real people in his life—how he’d thanked Hiro’s parents earlier, for instance. This was Celebrity Kai: cool, calm, charismatic. The girl gazed up at him in total adoration.

  Hiro had always known knew his friend would be famous someday. Whether Kai realized it or not, people gravitated toward him, wanted to be near him. It was like that for as long as Hiro could remember, and yet Kai seemed either bewildered by it or oblivious.

  He posed
for a few more selfies, looking like he was modeling for a magazine. It was the way he moved his body, all dancer. The girls, each looking over the moon, tucked their phones away, thanked him, and rushed off, passing Hiro without seeming to notice him.

  When Kai saw Hiro, though, his veneer dissolved.

  “Hiro!” He rushed toward him.

  Hiro hugged him, accidentally scooping him off his feet for a second. “Have you been working all day?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Kai stepped back, and Hiro immediately wanted to hold him again.

  Last night was a one-time thing. He’d meant to lower the boundaries between them only temporarily, while Kai truly needed him. But now that the wall had gone down, not touching Kai was even more difficult than it was before.

  “Nothing strenuous,” Kai continued. “I checked in guests, including a bunch of my fans.”

  “Was it overwhelming?”

  “No.” Kai blinked like he was surprised by his own answer. “It was… fine, actually. Everyone was really nice. I think your mom just makes everything so relaxing. People asked for pictures and autographs, but no one freaked out. It was manageable.”

  “Manageable is good.” Hiro had spent the day worrying over Kai for nothing. “Are you done now?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hiro put his hand on the small of Kai’s back, and Kai let himself be guided back toward the Winter Quarters. It would be easier to stop touching Kai if Kai didn’t accept Hiro’s touches so easily. “Your mom and I made wagashi together. I asked if I could make little cakes for Christmas, and she said yes.”

  “Christmas at the inn?” Hiro said. “That would definitely be new.”

  Kai cocked his head. “You don’t celebrate?”

  “My family does,” Hiro said. “There’s some gift-giving, but we still have to work, obviously. We have special packages for couples, though.”

  Hiro remembered spending Christmas in New York with Kai and Kimi: the elaborate feasts and endless gifts under the tree. It was a smaller affair in Japan, outranked by New Year’s, and more of a romantic holiday than a familial one. Since he usually spent his alone, he missed out on the typical Japanese quasi traditions, from eating strawberry Christmas cake and fried chicken to going on dates.

  “Yeah! That’s what your mom explained,” Kai said. “That’s why I wanted to make the cakes. It’ll be romantic.”

  “You are so cute.” Hiro ruffled his hair. “I did not expect you to come here and start taking over our kitchen.”

  They reached their own room. When Kai closed the door behind them, he said, “Your mom talked a lot about Obaachan.”

  Hiro’s stomach sank. “Anything that upset you?”

  “Oh, no. Not at all.” Kai looked up at him, his smile oddly shaky. Hiro didn’t quite believe him.

  “It’s okay,” Hiro soothed. “It’s going to take a long time for my parents to get used to it. Their son and mother coming out in one year? That’s crazy for them.”

  “No, seriously, Hiro,” Kai said. “Your mom was really, really good about it. She said something about Ya-san moving in with your grandmother, and how they’ll have to make arrangements, and where you guys should get your rice from now. She just went with it.”

  “Oh. Wow. I wouldn’t have thought….”

  But Kai hadn’t lost his odd expression. His eyes were shiny, and his smile kept wobbling into something else.

  “It’s great,” he said forcefully, voice going high-pitched. He cleared his throat. “She’s going to give her blessing when you find a husband, Hiro. It’s not going to be a—” His voice cracked. He whispered, swallowing hard, “—a struggle.”

  “Kai,” Hiro whispered. “What’s wrong? Just tell me what it is. You’re crying.”

  “I’m not,” Kai said, immediately looking away and rubbing his eyes. “I’m happy for you.”

  “You’re jealous again.” Hiro was amazed. “Like you were of Ryohei. You’re jealous of some guy who doesn’t exist.”

  “No,” Kai lied again, and it made something melt in Hiro, what a terrible liar Kai was. His fans, who only ever saw the model veneer he didn’t even seem conscious of projecting, would never be able to imagine him like this. It was extremely cute.

  “Let’s sit down,” Hiro said. “I’ll put on the heat and get us some tea.”

  They arranged themselves around the kotatsu. Hiro pulled out an abundance of cushions for the floor, wanting Kai to be as comfortable as possible.

  Hiro was tempted to do what he’d done last night, to touch Kai, to distract him from anything that was bothering him. He knew he couldn’t, though. As long as Kai was leaving, he needed to keep his walls up.

  They sat on the same side of the table, not quite touching.

  Kai didn’t wait for his tea to be poured before he said, “We talked about being together yesterday.”

  “And we concluded it wouldn’t work,” Hiro reminded him gently. “I have an inn. You’re an overambitious fame monster on a path toward world domination. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  Kai smiled at him. “That’s me. Ruthless.”

  “It’s like you think about nothing but power.”

  Kai looked down. “Hiro. I want another chance.”

  Hiro was an adult. A grown-ass man. And yet his heart still skipped a beat when Kai said that, like he was one of Kai’s fans.

  “What do you mean?” he prompted.

  “I… I need to try. Hiro, I—” Kai stopped himself, eyes suddenly blazing. “Hiro, I love you. I love your inn, and your family, and working here. Every minute I spend away from you—even when I know you’re just a drive away in the city—is painful. Literally painful—it hurts. I can’t just go. I can’t. I thought I was miserable before, but now that….” His cheeks pinkened. “I thought I knew what I was losing when I imagined going back to New York. But last night was a glimpse of everything I’ve never gained. Of everything I don’t have with you. And if I don’t fight for that, then….”

  All those years Hiro hadn’t let himself show Kai his true feelings. They’d never kissed, never touched beyond hugs and half cuddles, never gone past the point of plausible deniability. He thought he was sparing himself from heartbreak, and it took Kai exactly one orgasm to decide he needed to be with Hiro.

  Hiro should have made him come ages ago.

  “Then what?” Hiro said. “What are you saying?”

  “If you’d want to be with me…,” Kai said. “If you want that, then I want to fight for it.”

  Hiro was not an easy sell. He understood this. What he asked of a partner was a lifetime commitment, largely spent in a centuries-old inn. That request was even harder to make of someone like Kai, who seemed like the last person to be chained to such traditional ideals. There was every possibility this wasn’t going to work.

  But Hiro would rather try not-working with Kai than working with anyone else on this planet.

  “I want that,” he said. “I want everything, Kai. Everything.”

  Kai upset him by looking surprised.

  That was all it took: the walls were back down, at least halfway, and Hiro leaned over and kissed Kai.

  Kai fell into the kiss easily, and Hiro sensed him reading everything Hiro was communicating: Kai, how can you not see how badly I love you?

  Hiro pulled away, and Kai leaned his head against Hiro’s shoulder. He had that soft look again, like he’d had in the car. It was reminiscent of how his own fans looked at him—that adoration—but it went deeper.

  “Kai,” Hiro said softly. “None of the obstacles are gone. Your show starts filming again in twelve days.”

  “I know.” Kai grimaced. “I need to… I need to talk to my mom. See what our lawyers say.”

  “About breaking contract?”

  “Yeah.” Kai frowned. “The network just paid us for the next four seasons. I’ll probably have to pay my half back. My mom is going to be mad.”

  He laughed a slightly unhinged laugh, the sound of pure anxiety. Hiro gripped hi
m tight. He understood. Kimi had made every major decision for Kai his entire life; Hiro couldn’t imagine how she would react to Kai taking one of her biggest decisions out from under her.

  “How much did they pay you?” Hiro asked. The inn wasn’t exactly in the red; maybe they could help Kai out, if it came to that.

  Kai told him.

  “What?” Hiro choked. “What the fuck?” He had known Kai was rich. His net worth was probably listed online. But Hiro had never dwelled on it, had never imagined so many zeros. “Are you the richest person in New York?”

  Kai laughed like that was ridiculous, but then he paused, thinking. “Probably the richest on reality TV.”

  “Fuck.”

  Kai shot him a worried glance. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “You’re right,” Hiro said. “Now that I know, I can see the real you. You’ve actually been James Duffy in a Kai disguise all along.”

  He expected Kai to chuckle or roll his eyes, but Kai stared at him, stricken.

  “I’m not Duffy,” he whispered.

  “That was the joke.” Hiro rubbed his back. “Because he’s shallow and likes money a lot. Get it?”

  “Right,” Kai said shakily. “I—um—I want to Skype my mom as soon as possible. To talk to her about how to break contract.”

  Hiro looked at his phone. “It’s four in the morning in New York right now.”

  “She’ll be awake.” Kai got up and retrieved his laptop.

  Chapter Fifteen

  KIMI Takahashi, fifty-one years old and the world’s most disreputable fashion designer, lay draped across a sofa that looked like it was made in eighteenth-century France, her slender hand receiving a cherry-red manicure from a faceless stylist. Hiro wondered why they were looking at her vertically as though from several feet away. Then Kimi said, “Stop moving your wrist, darling, you’ll give my son a headache,” and he realized someone was holding her phone for her.

  She was wearing a bathrobe that looked like liquid gold. It was tied loosely around her waist, revealing a sliver of lacy bra and a scandalous amount of bronze leg.

 

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