COLD THE FINAL: Chapter 17
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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