Rules Were Made to be Broken

‣ scene 21 [hitting the fan]

"To Ishimaru-san!" A loud voice called out.

"To Ishimaru-san," several other voices repeated.

There was a clinking of glass against glass, and a chorus of claps and cheers, and then the former chatter resumed.

The bar was nearly crowded. Everyone on Kiyotaka's floor had stopped by to celebrate his promotion. He knew that most of them were just there to drink and gossip and catch up with their office friends, but he supposed it was nice enough of them to put in the effort of pretending to like him.

There was Chihiro, at least. And a few of his future "supervision comrades" that had proven to make for decent company. Chihiro herself was the first to admit that she was a lightweight, so she was avoiding the alcohol in favor of a glass full of cola. Kiyotaka had opted for a very light beer. He didn't want a repeat of what had happened the last time he'd gone drinking with his coworkers— getting that plastered again could cost him the promotion.

He could hardly hear himself think. He twisted his engagement ring around on his finger. People occasionally teased him about how antisocial he was being, considering the fact that it was technically his party. He laughed the comments off and explained that he was just thinking.

Chihiro sat down in the barstool beside him. She now had a little basket full of potato wedges.

"Would you like one?" She slid the basket in his direction. He frowned at it for a moment. He normally avoided greasy bar food, but it looked strangely appetizing.

"...Sure," he agreed, picking out the smallest one. "Just one can't hurt."

Chihiro stared at him as he ate his snack. Her expression was uncharacteristically firm.

"I'm going to start force-feeding you if you keep skipping your lunches." Kiyotaka laughed, both incredulously and fearfully, and her brow lowered. "I wasn't joking."

"Okay, okay," Kiyotaka relented. "I won't do that anymore if it upsets you that much. It's just hard to work up much of an appetite with so much going on, you know?"

He adjusted his ring again. Chihiro glanced at it.

"How's the engagement going? I haven't actually heard you talk about your fiancée."

"O-Oh, well... It's sort of a private thing. She's a bit more recognizable than I am, to put it lightly. She's from an upper-class family."

"Is she nice to you?"

"Very."

"...That's good."

Kiyotaka tried not to laugh at that. It was a strange question to ask. Why would he marry someone who wasn't nice to him? He wondered that, for just a moment, before he realized that that didn't mean much coming from a gay man who was planning on marrying a straight woman.

Chihiro convinced him to have a bit more food after that. She'd been right, apparently— Kiyotaka had not been eating enough, and once he did so, he felt a lot better. He managed to be more sociable.

Everyone was being kind to him. He was able to smile and laugh. He had just enough alcohol to get a very slight buzz, and in that state, he was able to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. He could become friends with Chihiro, and Sonia would make an excellent fake wife, and his new job would be great and his parents would leave him alone, and certain men that he refused to name would be better off moving on and forgetting about him.

Everything was fine. Everything was just fine. That was what Kiyotaka told himself as the party entered its full swing. People danced and giggled and watched games and played pool and threw their arms around one another. He switched from beer to soda and had a basket of fries smothered in cheese— the sort of decadent junk food that he never allowed himself to have.