COLD THE FINAL: Chapter 17

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COLD HEART in Brooklyn

in GARDEN

“Hello.”

A voice in Japanese called out from a little ways off. Kaito Akizawa raised his voice, “Hang on a sec,” as he set down the table he’d been carrying in a shady corner of the yard and made his way quickly toward the front door.

Though it was already the last week of September, the sun beat down with the intensity of midsummer. On the porch, Tabby’s frantic barking was joined by someone shouting, “What the hell is this thing!?” The little dog stood low to the ground, growling with full-bodied suspicion at the two visitors standing at the entrance.

“Tabby, stop!”

At the command, Tabby flinched and looked back, then bounded toward Akizawa without giving the guests another glance. He rubbed his nose against Akizawa’s shin, looking up with eyes that clearly said, “Hey, we’ve got shady characters over here.” Akizawa scooped him up, rubbed his head, and the dog finally calmed down.

“What an obnoxious little mutt,” said Tohru Takahisa with his arms crossed, snapping out the words sideways with clear irritation. Akizawa bristled at his openly sour attitude. Beside him, Keishi Fujishima offered a gentle smile and said, “He didn’t recognize us, that’s all. Makes him a pretty good guard dog, don’t you think?”

“Thank you for inviting us today, Akizawa-san,” Fujishima added, bowing politely. Akizawa had seen him a few times before—Fujishima handled sales and accounting for CRUX, the accessory brand where Akizawa was the image model—but they’d never really spoken beyond work. A quiet, unassuming man, well-groomed but probably older than Tohru.

“You guys showed up at the perfect time. Help me set up the table and chairs, yeah?”

Tohru remained silent, but Fujishima nodded quickly with a “Yes, understood.”

“Where’s Kusuda?” Tohru asked with a jerk of his chin.

“He’s inside, getting food ready.”

Tohru handed the paper bag he’d been holding to Fujishima. “Take this to him.”

“Ah, but…” Fujishima hesitated, unsure.

“I’ll help with the setup,” Tohru cut him off, then turned to Akizawa. “Where do you want it?”

“This way.”

Akizawa gestured, put the dog down, and started walking. Tohru followed two meters behind.

“No tea, no greetings—just put to work right off the bat, huh,” Tohru muttered under his breath.

“If you didn’t want to help, you could’ve said so.”

“You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Well, you’re gonna sit at the table too, aren’t you? You’ll benefit.”

Tohru let out a theatrical sigh and gave him a thoroughly exasperated look.

They placed the table beneath the trees, shaded from the harsh sun, and arranged five chairs. Then they brought out the barbecue set from the garage and assembled it beside the table.

Despite calling the dog “obnoxious,” Tohru didn’t seem to hate him. He tossed kindling for Tabby, who dashed after it with manic glee, tail wagging so hard it looked like it might snap off. So much for “suspicious stranger”—the mutt had turned traitor instantly. Then again, Tabby had barked like mad at Akizawa too, and changed his tune the second he got fed.

The little traitor perked up, tail stiff, and bolted toward the back door just as Masahiko Kusuda stepped into the yard, balancing a massive platter. Tabby circled his feet in tight loops.

“Tabby, you’re in the way.”

Clearly ecstatic to see Kusuda and desperate to play, Tabby barked as if possessed. Akizawa had heard that when he wasn’t around, the dog slept curled up next to Kusuda—and when he was shut out of the bedroom at night, he’d whimper miserably in the hallway.

Dodging Tabby’s frantic scampering, Kusuda made his way over with the heaping platter of meat and vegetables and slammed it down on the table.

“Tohru,” he said with a wide grin, “long time no see.”

“Yeah.”

Tohru’s expression barely changed, but even so, Kusuda could tell the muscles in his cheeks had relaxed just a little.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Just heard there’d be good food.”

“It’s just a regular barbecue, so don’t expect much. But there’s plenty, so dig in all you want. Ever since I got a house with a yard, I’ve been hooked on barbecuing. American-style roasting and smoking is a pain, though, so I end up doing it the Japanese way.”

Tohru lifted his head and took in the surroundings.

“It’s a nice house.”

“They say it’s small for Americans. From a Japanese perspective, it feels huge, though. Renting a whole house might seem like a luxury, but with a dog around, I wanted somewhere with a yard where it could run around. And since we’re not in Manhattan, the rent’s still within reason.”

Just then, Fujishima emerged from the back door carrying a cooler. Kusuda hurried over in a panic.

“Fujishima-san, you’re a guest—you don’t have to help.”

But Fujishima just smiled and brought the cooler along anyway. For someone with such thin arms, he had a fair bit of strength.

“Woof!”

Even with all the people around, Tabby barked like mad, as if upset that no one was paying attention to him. Fujishima flinched, clearly startled, and Tohru barked, “Hey,” at the dog in reprimand.

This guy’s even more excited than usual, Kusuda thought, grabbing one of the bone-in beef ribs from a nearby plate and chucking it far across the yard. Tabby shot off like a bullet and sank his teeth into the meat with wild abandon.

“You two are guests, so sit back and relax, okay? I won’t be able to if you don’t,” Kusuda said with a grin, and at his urging, Fujishima and Tohru finally sat down side by side.

After handing out drinks from the cooler, Kusuda crouched down beside Akizawa, who was tending to the fire. He watched the tongs moving with quiet intensity.

“You don’t seem like the type who’s good at this stuff, but you’re actually pretty skilled.”

“People here really love barbecues, right? I’ve been invited to a bunch of them. Eventually you get the hang of it.”

He flipped a glowing red coal with practiced ease.

“Still, you’re not usually the type to take initiative with things like this.”

“Normally, no. But when the meat looks really good, and I want to eat the first bite fresh off the grill, I’ll do it. During shoots, too—if someone brings wagyu or something, I’ll be the one grilling it.”

“You really are a slave to your appetite.”

Kusuda chuckled, and his shoulder brushed against Akizawa’s arm. A faint scent drifted up from his hair, tickling Akizawa’s nose. It was the same scent embedded in the bedsheets.

There was a room in the house meant for Akizawa, complete with its own bed, but he hadn’t used it once. Even when Kusuda was out working, Akizawa always slipped into his bed instead. And somehow, he slept like he’d taken a tranquilizer. Sometimes when he woke up, Kusuda would be right there next to him. Listening to his slow, steady breathing, Akizawa would feel it settle deep into his bones—This is happiness. This is love. Just thinking about it again made something stir inside him.

The coals crackled and popped, scattering red sparks.

“Hey… is it just me, or are the coals exploding a bit?”

Their eyes met. Kusuda blinked, and his face slowly flushed red before he abruptly turned away and stood up.

“Let’s just go ahead and cook all the meat and veggies. I’m starving.”

He began tossing vegetables and meat onto the grill without another word.

…The wooden fence that enclosed the small house had been reinforced and raised a bit not long after the move—Akizawa had helped with that. The patchy lawn had filled in during the summer, now lush and green. Tabby, once a tiny puppy, seemed to grow visibly every time they looked at him. A month had passed in a blink, each passing day leaving tangible changes in its wake.

The fragrant, savory aroma of sizzling meat and vegetables rose into the air. Akizawa grilled the best-looking cut first and placed it on Kusuda’s plate with a casual, “Here.”

“Hey, hey, guests come first, don’t they?” Kusuda protested, trying to hand the plate to Fujishima instead, but Akizawa stopped him.

“Nope. The tastiest one’s for you.”

Kusuda made a troubled face, but Fujishima simply smiled and said, “It was a special order,” as he handed the plate back to him.

“Come on, eat it already—while it’s still hot.”

Even with the urging, Kusuda still looked a little embarrassed. Tohru nudged him gently, “Don’t hold back.” And when Kusuda finally bit into the meat, his eyes popped wide open.

“This is insanely good.”

Akizawa casually tossed the perfectly grilled meat onto Fujishima’s plate, and the more charred cuts onto Tohru’s without hesitation. He grilled the next best-looking cut for himself and ate while continuing to grill more meat and vegetables.

“This meat is amazing,” Fujishima said. “It just melts in your mouth.”

His eyes softened with pleasure.

“Well, it’s Matsusaka beef,” Akizawa said, puffing up his chest with pride.

“Wait, really? I figured the marbling was something, but... they sell wagyu in Brooklyn?”

Kusuda looked genuinely surprised.

“Nah, got it from a supermarket in Manhattan. I had Kuma track it down and put some aside for me. He’s good at that kind of stuff—really useful.”

“You shouldn’t say it like that,” Kusuda chided.

“It’s fine. He treats me like a rag, always squeezing the life out of me, so it evens out.”

As Akizawa busied himself tending the grill, Tohru eventually offered, “Want me to take over?”

Kusuda had told him not to make the guests do anything, but Akizawa snuck a glance toward him anyway. Kusuda seemed relaxed now, smiling and chatting with Fujishima, “If you’re looking to explore, a walk along the East River’s nice. It’s close, and the view is great.”

Akizawa handed over the tongs and, juice in hand, sat down in the chair next to Kusuda. The seat had been too far away, so he scooted it along the ground until they were shoulder to shoulder.

“Hey, you’re too close,” Kusuda said, laughing as he leaned into Akizawa’s shoulder. That spoiled gesture made it obvious he was tipsy—Kusuda never could hold his alcohol.

“Pay attention to me too.”

Akizawa murmured it by his ear, and Kusuda laughed again.

“I’m always paying attention to you. But today’s about entertaining Fujishima-san and Tohru. Wait, didn’t I tell you to man the grill?”

“He insisted.”

Kusuda glanced over at Tohru at the grill and tilted his head. “Oh, really?”

“Come walk the East River with me too.”

When Akizawa slipped an arm around his waist, Kusuda lightly slapped his hand away, flustered.

“Not with you—I’d get too much attention.”

“I’ll wear a disguise. Let’s take Tabby too. If the weather’s nice, we can cross the Williamsburg Bridge.”

“Come to think of it, I’ve never actually walked across that one.”

Kusuda stared off into the distance, lips loose from the alcohol. Even those sensual lips—Akizawa loved them. He pulled him close and pressed a quick kiss against them. Kusuda blinked several times in shock before he seemed to realize what had happened. Then, with a startled expression, he turned toward Fujishima.

“U-uh, um, I mean… that was…”

Kusuda stumbled over his words. Fujishima, now blushing to the tips of his ears, ducked his head and said, “Please don’t worry about me… carry on.”

“Hey, it’s ready.”

Tohru dropped a heaping plate of charred meat and vegetables on the table and patted Fujishima’s back.

“What’s with the sulking?” he asked.

“He’s just shy after watching me and Kusuda being lovey-dovey,” Akizawa said.

Even though it was true, Kusuda barked, “Hey!” and Tohru shot him a sharp glare.

“Sorry I’m laaate! Looks like things already started~”

Pushing open the gate, Jessica stepped into the garden. Tabby barked in sheer delight and came bounding over, and Jessica threw her arms around the dog, red hair flying, shouting, “It’s been so long, Tabby!” as they shared an enthusiastic embrace.

“I brought something sweet for dessert—these are the limited edition cupcakes from Féron!”

Holding up the box like a trophy, Jessica glanced around at the scene: four men, blushing, glaring, or locked in tense silence. She raised an eyebrow and muttered, “This is supposed to be a barbecue party, right? Or were you about to start a brawl?”



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