#mabonaga

Tomo wants to tell someone. He wants to tell his parents, because they had doubted him for so long, had doubted that he had once been able to see the colors of the world, but he had, and now he knows this. Where others have marveled over the hues and shades around them, he feels a sense of peace, as if something once valuable was lost and has been restored to him.

The first name that comes to mind when he picks up his cell phone, though, is Tatsuya Yamaguchi. The two of them have been friends for the last few years. Tomo had met him on the train one day. A few men across the aisle had been intent on giving Tomo hell for the way he was dressed, and Tatsu had stepped in on his behalf for no reason other than that he could.

Since then, Tomo has come to value Tatsu’s friendship as deeply as any other. They get along well, and though Tomo has not quite found the confidence Tatsu is able to display when someone talks down to him, he would like to think he is getting there. He thinks it over, then opens his Contacts and hits Call, waiting for Tatsu to pick up on the other end of the line.

“Tomo,” the familiar voice of his best friend yawns. “Aren’t you calling a little bit early today?”

Tomo frowns, glancing at the clock on the stove. “No, Tatsu, it’s past noon already.”

He wonders if Tatsu and his girlfriend have been having trouble again. Though the two of them work hard to make their relationship work, Tomo has heard more often than not how things are not working properly between the two of them. They put in more effort than most do, and for that he does hope things work out for them… But he can only see Tatsu suffer so much without wondering if the right person for him is out there waiting for him to find them.

“Is it really? Damn, I didn’t mean to be in bed this late… Anyway, what did you want?” There are sounds on the other end, creaking and rustling, probably Tatsu getting up for the day.

“I wanted to tell you the good news, actually.” Tomo rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, feeling so light, so happy. “I was at the market, and I… Tatsu, I found the one.”

There is a long silence on the other end of the line, punctuated by a gasp before Tatsu speaks. “Are you serious? Tell me, what’s it like, then? Does seeing color still feel familiar to you?”

“It does, actually. Like, I feel like I’ve seen these colors before. Not these exact colors, of course, but color in general? Yeah.” Tomo hooks his foot around the leg of one of the kitchen chairs and sits down heavily. “Some guys were giving me shit about my clothes. I got pushed into him.”

“You don’t need me to tell you how fucking dramatically and stupidly romantic that sounds,” Tatsu says, and Tomo laughs because he’s right. It sounds very dramatic.

“It’s true though,” he insists, and launches into the story while Tatsu is most likely getting dressed.

His stomach rumbles halfway through the story, so he pushes himself up so he can throw together an egg sandwich, not in the mood for anything heavier, and some coffee to wash it down. Tatsu has his flaws, but he listens patiently while Tomo goes over the hours he had spent with Mabo— just the name is enough to make his stomach tighten and his heart flutter— and their promise to spend some time together over the next two days. Time, Tomo hopes, that will strengthen their bond.

“You sound like you’ve already decided on you two staying together,” Tatsu says when Tomo has finished and has sat down to eat. “I really hope he decides the same thing. You deserve that.”

“Don’t be dumb, everyone deserves to find their soulmate if they can.” Tomo quickly clears his throat after saying it, remembering Tatsu’s insistence he would rather make it work with someone else rather than keep searching. “Well, you know what I mean. How’s your girlfriend doing?”

Tatsu laughs, and Tomo winces. Maybe it would have been better to let Tatsu volunteer the information instead of asking after her. “We just got into another fight last night, actually.”

It’s Tomo’s turn to sit quietly and listen, trying to chew and swallow with little to no noise so Tatsu doesn’t have to listen to him chewing in his ear. As he thought, Tatsu and his girlfriend are having problems. It seems they have no end of problems, and sometimes Tomo just wants to tell him that all of the love in the world cannot always solve everything, that sometimes people are not meant to be together. But right now, able to see the world in vivid color, he knows he can’t.

Tatsu has always respected him for wanting to look for his soulmate, but he has been firm that he does not believe that path is right for him. And Tomo can only respect Tatsu’s decisions, and support him to the best of his ability, even if it means watching Tatsu hurt himself in the process.

It probably isn’t right to wish for it, but he almost wishes that Tatsu would find his soulmate just so he knows he has options out there, people who would treat him better. Because she doesn’t, she doesn’t give him the support he needs when things are bad for him mentally, and Tomo knows this, because he has stepped in more than a few times to give Tatsu any form of support he can. Better a best friend than nothing, right? If it’s the only thing he can get… Tomo finishes his sandwich and pulls his mug closer to himself, and he knows he’s wrong for hoping Tatsu finds someone else when he has put so much of himself into this, but it’s not working anymore.

“But, you know, I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to sort everything out. We always do. Sometimes, it just takes a little more time than… Well, you know.” Tatsu trails off and Tomo hums, trying to be as convincing as possible, trying to make Tatsu think he believes him. Wondering if Tatsu is still lying to himself, or if he has given up on that, too. “I get to meet your guy soon, right?”

“If things work out well with him, then absolutely,” Tomo says. He wonders how Mabo and Tatsu will get along, if his best friend and his soulmate will like each other.

“If it makes you feel any better, regardless of what I think about the whole soulmate thing, I really hope that it does work out. Because I know it means a lot to you.” Tatsu is quiet on the other end of the line and Tomo presses the back of his hand to his own mouth, more than a little shocked at this coming from Tatsu of all people, but knowing how much more it means because it comes from him. “Good luck today. Let me know how it goes. If he hurts you, I’ll smack him.”

That makes Tomo laugh, and he pushes away his now empty mug as he stands up. “I will. I’m going to go shower and get dressed, and then I’ll see if he wants to do anything today.”

They say their goodbyes and Tomo heads upstairs, his eyes roving over every inch of his home in the process. He had been smart when designing this house, had hired someone who had found their soulmate and could see in color so that everything would be soft, and pretty, and easy on his eyes when he was able to see all of it for himself. He’s satisfied with his choices.

The bathroom in particular in its easy shades of blue with the butter yellow of the sunlight spilling through the window is beautiful, and he enjoys that for a moment before undressing and starting the water. Then he takes a long, good look at his own reflection in the mirror.

Looking at himself like this feels familiar, and feels not familiar, and that confuses him more than anything else. What had happened in his past, for this to feel like something that has occurred before? What kind of deja vu is this, and what could have possibly caused it?

He chooses not to linger— he has Mabo to see today, and a life to lead, and he wants to do his best to be the best soulmate he can possibly be— so he steps into the shower and takes care to wash every inch of his skin and scrub his hair all the way down to the roots. He does get distracted a few times, his eyes straying to the way the sunlight looks reflecting off of his wet skin, before reminding himself he has to get back down to business and get cleaned up.

In his bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist, he hesitates over his wardrobe. Mabo has already seen him dressed in a more feminine style, a style he prefers and tries to get away with as often as he can. He tries to talk himself out of the style— the last thing he wants to do is alienate Mabo, after all— but ends up settling on a white skirt almost as light as air.

“If he doesn’t like me the way I am, this isn’t going to work,” Tomo murmurs to himself, glancing at himself in the mirror. “I told myself a long time ago I wasn’t going to change for anyone.”

When he checks his phone, he already has text messages from Mabo and can’t help the little smile that tugs at his lips. Mabo has been thinking about him today, already, and even though it means next to nothing right now, he can’t help but feel a little lighter at the thought. He sits down on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he reads over the messages a few times. They had talked about potential dinner, but Mabo would like to see him sooner, if possible. Tomo almost snorts at that; what else is he going to be doing today, anyway? He glances at the clock. They can meet whenever Mabo wants.

[I can pick you up now, if you’d like, then. Or as close to now as you want. I don’t want to rush you out of the house but I’d like to see you again as soon as possible.]

[I’m actually up and dressed so I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come pick me up now. I don’t kow what you want to do, though. You haven’t said, yet.]

[We have an entire city spread out before us and most of the day to do whatever we want. I’m sure we can figure out some way to pass the time together.]

Together. The single word makes Tomo’s chest ache more than it should, more than he wants it to, and he has to press a hand over his mouth before he replies.

[I’ll be waiting, don’t keep me long =)]

He heads downstairs to wait, playing with his fingers, the bottom of his shirt.

Never in a million years did he think finding his soulmate would be like this, this insistent need to see Mabo, to want to speak to him. To blush over a few little text messages.

All this time, he thought he would be prepared for this moment. He thought he would be ready when he saw color (again, saw color again) but there was no being ready for this.

He plops down on his couch and lets his head fall forward into his hands, pushing inky black curls back behind his ears. Everything feels like so much all at once, and yet everything feels wonderful. He feels light and gauzy like a small breeze would be enough to blow him away.

And at the back of his mind is that sensation of deja vu, that this has happened before. He had attributed it to just the colors at first and had always wondered, but there’s more to it than that. Mabo feels familiar, like someone he knew before now, someone he had met somewhere else… But where? Surely he would have remembered someone like Mabo in his life.