With the Party of Words after their heads, Fling Posse's plan is to hide. Ramuda, he and Dice ensured, is secure at the hotel and so now it’s their turn to disappear. Splitting ways with Dice, Gentaro's feet lead him to safety — or rather, the illusion of it. A luxury apartment in Shinjuku. He, more than anyone, knows better than to fall for a fool's paradise, but then again, it's exactly because he's fallen for the fool in question that he finds himself here.

Duty orders him to turn around lest he get Hifumi caught up in matters that concern him not, but a selfish part of him desires a spare breath of reprieve. Surely, he reasons, he owes Hifumi one last visit — even if this goodbye is more for himself than him. With the sands in the hourglass of Ramuda's life crawling on his skin, Gentaro sneaks into the building.

The urge to run seizes him as soon as he rings the doorbell, but the door opens before he can vanish. Rubbing his bleary eyes, Hifumi greets him with a small smile.

"My apologies, did I disturb you" Gentaro says, already backing away — but Hifumi pulls him in and pecks his lips.

"Mm-mmm," Hifumi says, soft with drowsiness, "you know I love to see my Gen-chan."

Silly adorations are nothing new, but the sweet sound of belonging stabs his heart — the nickname that’s intended for him and him alone. Gentaro simply hums in reply, speechless with regrets that stir within, and lets Hifumi usher him inside.

"You don't usually come over here," says Hifumi, that giddiness of his growing as he speaks. "I was actually gonna drop by your place later"

What Hifumi doesn't know, though, is that Yumeno Gentaro's apartment is abandoned — left as untouched as his brother's studio — and he won't know until well after he's gone. "I had a meeting not too far from your neighborhood, so I thought it might be a nice change of pace to pay you a visit."

"You're right, it is nice Now I can make something with quality ingredients instead of the cheap stuff you throw into your fridge." He giggles, each note committed to Gentaro's memory, and says, "Lunch will be ready in a jiff, how 'bout some tea in the meantime"

An indulgence to offset his troubles, Gentaro tugs on Hifumi's wrist. "Oh, please. You worked hard last night, didn't you Don't let me interrupt your much needed rest."

Of course, Shinjuku's number one host won’t leave a single guest unattended. "What But you just got here"

"I merely meant to say 'hello'," Gentaro says, "goodbye" veiled beneath modesty.

"We're boyfriends, though No way I'm not gonna treat you."

Another lovers' spat lays ahead of them given their propensity for disputes, but for once, Gentaro sets his pride aside. While his brother's deep slumber and Ramuda's flickering starlight had struck like a bolt from the blue, he has the power to write this twist to his ideal.

Hands slipping into Hifumi's, Gentaro says, "Why don't we compromise You rest and I'll join you."

To no surprise, to his solace, Hifumi grins. "Cuddle Time with Gen-chan That sounds good to me"

Off go his accessories, and his hakama hangs folded on the back of a chair. Left in his kimono and undershirt, Gentaro nestles into Hifumi's arms underneath the leopard print sheets that Hifumi dares deem "stylish." Usually, this happens in the futon of Gentaro's apartment, but the warmth of Hifumi's embrace is a home wherever it may be. Soon enough, anyhow, these instances will be traces of the Yumeno Gentaro that wasn't supposed to exist.

"You're thinking." Hifumi probes at him, well-intentioned but incautious.

As is their language, the repartee that's theirs, Gentaro says, "One of has to, no"

"Mhm, okay, like you're not the one who submitted a ‘personal piece’ to your editor instead of the actual draft," Hifumi says, booping his nose. In his defense, the two works seemed similar after an all-nighter. "I mean, like, you're thinking. The kind that's gonna give you trés ugly wrinkles."

"It’s nothing" would be an easy fib, but from the very beginning, nothing about them has been easy. What started as a rivalry born from bad blood bloomed into a relationship that brought sunshine into his days — and as honest as his feelings are for Hifumi, that doesn't change the fact that the one whom Hifumi loves is but a fabrication.

If he has to leave him, then he'll leave him as Yumeno Gentaro, the author who broke into the writing world with a stroke of literary genius; not as Yumeno Gentaro, the visionary striving to stop injustice's regime — an identity that belongs not to him alone.

So Gentaro spins a story befitting this performance he's built with Hifumi, and what a pretty thought it is to think that he can will this tangible through words too. "To tell you the truth, I'm going on a business trip."

Hifumi gasps. "Really No way"

"I wouldn't lie to you about something this big," Gentaro says, the irony weighing as heavy as a sin on his tongue.

Eyes sparkling with their ever youthful energy, Hifumi asks, "Where are you going"

"To America. My publisher plans on translating one of my novels to English and they're hosting an event for publicity."

"OMG, your international debut" Hifumi says, shaking him to and fro. "We gotta celebrate"

"Goodness gracious, that's not necessary." Gentaro brushes off his remorse with humility, his sorrow with coyness. Hifumi's enthusiasm is more than enough for the both of them; this, he hasn't been more grateful for until now.

"Uh, duh Of course it is It's not everyday you go worldwide" Hifumi perks up, saying, "Ooh, I'll cook up all your faves~ Bring your friends to the party too"

Unlike the other facets of Yumeno Gentaro’s act, this overactive imagination is a talent that curses him with distant dreams: the laughter of his loved ones ringing in the air; Hifumi and Dice, a bundle of burdens those two bear, getting along in their merriment; Ramuda, freed from the shadows of death looming over his shoulders, living for his own sake; and his brother, awake in this world he sought to salvage, once again at his side.

Cruel is reality, the way it steals love and life, but that might be why he and his brother decided to name themselves after dreams — for one is meant to make their dreams come true, no matter how long it may take.

"It might be better to postpone any celebrations," Gentaro says through the "what could be"s. "My flight is tomorrow."

"Tomorrow..." Hifumi's brows knit together, creasing his clear skin. "That's so soon"

"I know, and I'm sorry." His first genuine truth in this conversation. "I was informed last minute. That was what my meeting earlier was about, actually."

"But, but, but..."

A comfort for the both of them, Gentaro tucks Hifumi's hair behind his ear. "Fret not, I'll return soon."

"When"

Months, years, seasons from now. Never at the worst. He prays for the best. "About a week or so."

Hifumi wilts, his joy dimming as he says, "A week without my Gen-chan..."

Despite it being a point of contention much too often, Gentaro chuckles at Hifumi's childish behavior. "You speak as if we've never been apart before."

"Well, yeah, but that's different At least here we're breathing the same air. America's like a whole other time zone and stuff"

Distance being their problem would be preferable, where dawn arises in New York while dusk arrives in Tokyo; he’d rather Hifumi be out of reach than so close yet so far away. Still, regardless of how many kilometers will lay between them, Gentaro tells him, "Though the seas may separate us, we are still underneath the same sky."

Hifumi's face twists, features contorting in a manner unfitting a host. He's begrudged to admit when he's lost, but he says, "...You better call everyday and take lots of pics Got it"

"Yes, I solemnly swear."

"Pinkie promise" Hifumi says, holding his own out.

With no hesitation, Gentaro locks their pinkies together — and crosses his fingers behind his back. "Pinkie promise."

The gentleness of Hifumi's touch imprinted upon him, Gentaro listens as Hifumi chatters on about the attractions he should tour until his words trickle out. His eyelids droop, lashes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, and eventually, Hifumi’s breaths even out. Gentaro drinks the sight in, memorizing each detail of Hifumi's visage down to the strand — but the Grim Reaper's scythe hanging over Ramuda has its tip on his neck too.

Slowly, so slowly, Gentaro extracts himself from Hifumi's embrace; to avoid awakening Hifumi, to cling onto these seconds together. Already, the cold pricks him like rose thorns, but he shakes it off and moves forth.

At least, he attempts to.

"Gen-chan," Hifumi calls out as he grabs his hakama, drowsiness addled in his cadence, "you're going now"

Moments like these make Gentaro realize how Hifumi manages to draw in so many ladies every night, his voice a siren song. Tempting is the spot beside him, even more is the normalcy that these ties with Hifumi offer — but the reason behind Yumeno Gentaro's existence is not normal, and never will be no matter how much he deludes himself.

He's played pretend for far too long. Better to give up this fantasy before he loses another loved one in the process.

"Only to the restroom." The lie scorches his lips, but he tries to remedy it with an endearment he rarely speaks — with a vow he wishes to keep. "Go sleep, my love, I'll be back."

Mumbling, Hifumi complies when he runs his fingers through his silky tresses. Ironic how once he wanted nothing to do with him, yet now he holds onto whatever he possibly can. Gentaro lingers a little longer than necessary, excusing it as a precaution, before he tears himself away from Hifumi’s side.

As he clasps on Fling Posse's pin, he resumes the role of Yumeno Gentaro — a friend and a protector — but when he closes the front door behind him, perhaps deep down, he hopes that there’s a future where being Yumeno Gentaro may include this everyday peace.