My Long Winter, a My Beautiful Man/Utsukushii Kare FF.

7 : My Long Winter Began In The Spring

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A wise man once said, "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it's yours."  Hira often contemplated that quote, especially after fate delivered Kiyoi into his arms again years after high school ended. At that time, he thought maybe the world may not be so horrible for someone like himself, maybe there were blessings to be had. However, as their spring romance suddenly died again, Hira recalled the ending of that old proverb. "If not, it was never meant to be..."

That's right, he thought, beauty was never meant for me.

In one slash, London Fashion Week ruined his canvas with its own merciless brush, muddling the colors of his beloved Kiyoi. It destroyed his fantasy, and forced him to return to a miserable reality where happiness was reserved for the Great. Time's passage was dizzying, voices grew distant, faces distorted and became surreal. Everything was painted black and gray, with the same ugly stroke that Hira was so familiar with before Kiyoi. The 'outgoing call' chime haunted him in both wake and slumber. After countless rings, it would only cease after repeating the phrase, "The person you are trying to reach is not available."

The King disappeared just like that, Hira was finally awoken from the dream life they built together. Their castle crumbled in such an ironic fashion, the situation felt like a page out of some angsty romance story, and Hira's fate was being controlled by some evil puppet-master, or a twisted novelist. It all had to be a cruel joke, but unfortunately it was real. If Kiyoi didn't see the photos posted online, he surely saw the news headline claiming:

WORLD FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHER-IDOL EITO AIOKI DEBUTS NEW BOYFRIEND WITH A PASSIONATE KISS AT LONDON FASHION WEEK!! WHO IS THIS MYSTERY MAN?

The image beneath such a scandalous headline was of Eito and Hira sprawled on the floor. Aioki-san's head completely hid Hira's identity, but he knew Kiyoi would be able to recognize his form. Tragically, Hira wore the same brown-and-white jacket that Kiyoi gifted him during their first shopping date. He couldn't even curse the jacket, because it came from the King so it had to be treasured, too. There was no direction to release his anguish and hatred but inwards, and it burned so painfully.

He spent the remaining week days dragging his feet with hollow eyes, only motorized by the mere off-chance that perhaps Kiyoi wasn't ghosting him and was just busy. At nighttime, Hira would call his phone over and over again, leaving desperate voicemails trying to explain what happened. He prayed that maybe Kiyoi could see through the false narrative, and know that his love was totally devoted to him alone. But that was impossible, Hira catastrophically failed to prove so by allowing such a mistake to happen, and knew he had to atone for his sins.

Aioki didn't pester him after that night. They conducted business as usual, but their interactions became shallow and only spoke if the topic had to do with work. Hira was thankful for that at least. He couldn't stomach pretending like everything was okay.

Upon arriving back at Tokyo's International Airport, the Photography Club greeted him home. They all cheered and clapped, with Koyama standing at the front with a big handmade congratulations sign. Hira couldn't hear their praises, instead he strained his ears in search of another voice. All he wanted to hear was that beautiful man praising, "I'm proud of you, stalker."

But of course, that couldn't be heard.

The Kazunari house was devoid of life when Hira returned through its front door. It was so cold, the chill of the wooden floorboards could be felt through his slippers. He searched each hallway and room; the King's belongings were gone, he didn't even leave so much as a note to explain his departure. Hira became weak and fell to his knees, crumpling in on himself as a wave of sobs finally crashed.