Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shiro had never considered himself a people’s person, but he had been told since his teenage years that he had a charming, easy-going personality that seemed to work on most social interactions. 

It had been what had made him so popular with his students in the first place. Everytime the school year started he would hear rumours of undergraduates desperately fighting to find a spot available in one of his classes, hoping his kind ways of teaching would save them.

So he wasn't sure why he suddenly found himself unable to speak, not capable of even curling his lips in an awkward smile or nodding in response. It's have been stupid to do so anyway, cause he had actually stopped listening after the first sentence the middle woman directed his way.

“It’s about Keith, Mr. Shirogane, and… your ex-husband.”

It wasn't the first time the school called him in urgency, and no matter how often it happened Shiro had still driven like a mad man, getting there in just ten minutes and ignoring that he definitely must have broken several traffic laws.

It just so happened that they hadn't called due to Keith’s temper causing some kind of ruckus, or in worst cases a fist-fight.

No, they thought Keith was depressed. 

The paper trembled in Shiro’s hands. He kept reading it over and over. He recognized Keith’s messy handwriting, still, he couldn't believe his eyes.

I miss Pa, he’s not the same since dad moved away. He’s there but he's not. I don't know, he’s always tired or working. 

I think he knows dad texts me but he stopped asking, he stopped doing lots of things. 

Shiro took a deep breath and tried to ground himself.

He’s all weird and I think it’s my fault.

“Why… W-What’s the meaning of this.” The words were out of his throat before his brain could catch-up with what he was trying to say.

The teacher blinked, took a sip of coffee and watched him carefully like Shiro was an untrusting dog about to bite her.

“Homework.” She said simply. “We asked them to write about their families, just to work on their redaction skills.”

“Ah.” Shiro nodded, eyes unfocused. “How’s that going?”

“... Keith has certainly improved. That was not what worried me, though.” She sighed, knowing damn well this would be an awkward conversation. “He’s been seeming down for a while, more reserved. It worries me.” 

She played with her fingers. “Mr. Shirogane, I don't… mean to pry on your personal life but I thought you might want to know about this.”

Her nervous expression immediately made Shiro feel guilty, or maybe that feeling had been there for a while and just worsened. 

He wasn't sure, to be honest, it was like his head was filled with cotton since he took a seat in front of her desk.

“O-Of course, I appreciate it, really.” He assured her, and her shoulders relaxed in response. “Thank you, I’ll talk to him, make sure he’s okay.”

He stood up fast, desperate to leave the room and maybe hope for a car to cross the street and end him on the stop. He remembered he was still holding that cursed paper last minute and clumsily left it on the desk with a muted “thanks”.

“I’ll… see you around.”

Once Keith’s teacher nodded, Shiro didn't waste any more time getting the fuck out of there.

His hurried steps were loud in his ears, and his lungs were definitely protesting because of lack of air. Maybe he was holding his breath, or maybe he was hyperventilating but he didn't allow himself to get in touch with his feelings till he was finally sitting in his car, hands gripping the wheel.

He was a mess, wasn't he?

He had been dealing with depression since he was a kid, just a consequence of his parents death, probably. He hadn't seen a professional in a few years.

It was one thing dealing with his cursed mind and secret lack of self-esteem, that was just part of him. It was another thing knowing his kid was suffering because of it too, that he was at fault.

Shiro wanted to die.

But that wasn't anything new, so he bit his lips, rested his warm forehead on the cold car window for a second and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

They were just words, thumbs pressing letters on the keyboard. It still took colossal effort sending the text.

Can you talk? 

Shiro gulped.

It’s about Keith, please.

He knew Adam wouldn't ignore him, not for long anyways. Shiro had been the one ghosting him these past months thinking it was the right thing to do. 

He couldn't help but feel anxious.

Which was stupid, cause he got a text back in less than five minutes.

I finish my last class in an hour.

Of course Shiro knew that, he had his schedule memorized, a regular outcome of living together for almost a decade.

We can meet after, unless you want to call?

And make a fool of himself? No, thanks. He wasn't even certain that his anxiety would allow him to do anything but reject his call.

What about the café down the street? I’ll pay.

Sure.

And just like that, Shiro was sure he had signed his death sentence.

_____

He arrived early, he told himself it was just to make sure he grabbed a nice table, not because he was nervous.

Adam had always been punctual.

He looked the same, there wasn't much a person could change in half a year, Shiro supposed. That fitted shirt hugged his chest as perfectly as usual, and even if he looked tired, there was no world where Adam wouldn't be effortlessly handsome and this wasn't an exception.

Shiro immediately felt underdressed for some reason, maybe it was the fact that he couldn't remember if he showered yesterday or if his shirt was clean, he had just grabbed the first thing he found lying on the floor.

Perhaps he could just pretend he was at his best. Confidence was key, right?

“Takashi.” Adam greeted him, and Shiro’s confidence went out of the window.

He watched him take a seat and unbutton his shirt, just the first button so he could breathe easier.

After a few seconds of silence, Shiro snapped out of it.

“Hey,” his left knee bounced, he cringed when he accidentally hit the table. “So, um, how have you been?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “We both hate small talk. Please don't.”

Great.

“Right, sorry.” Shiro apologized but didn't open his mouth again, he didn't know where to start.

Adam never stopped looking at him, not even when he stood up. Shiro attempted to follow, but Adam stopped him with a glance. “Just gonna order something.”

Shiro nodded and sat again. Adam wasn't leaving, Adam wanted to hear him out.

So he waited, and entertained himself massaging his wrist hoping to relieve some of the pain.

Before he could react, Shiro had a cup of coffee and an egg sandwich in front of him. He looked at Adam, a question already in his mouth.

His ex-lover took a sip of his chai latte, and moved the plate closer to Shiro. “You’ve lost weight.” Was the only thing he said, like it was as simple as that.

And Shiro’s mask broke just like that.

The sting of tears was familiar, but it wasn't often that he couldn't control himself.

Takashi Shirogane was twenty eight, and he was sobbing in a public place in front of the only person he had ever loved.

Adam didn't say anything. Shiro was thankful for that, it was embarrassing enough to be in this situation, he appreciated him acting like Shiro was not a pathetic mess.

Still, he didn't let him forget about the food, he moved the plate impossibly closer.

Shiro sniffled, cleaned his face with a thin paper towel and took a bite. The salty taste was a good distraction, it settled his stomach just enough so he could explain to him the situation, the talk with Keith's teacher.

“I’m ruining his life.” He declared, didn't question or doubt it. It was what was happening, wasn't it? “He’s sad, worried about me.” He closed his eyes with force, what kind of parent did that? “I’m making the same mistakes again.”

The same mistakes I made with you went unsaid.

“When someone loves you, they worry. It’s inevitable.” Adam’s index finger was drawing invisible shapes on the table. 

Shiro hated that he knew he was right, that he couldn't change that.

“I’ve been trying.” He whispered. “I’ve tried to take care of him.”

Adam pursed his lips. “I know. That’s what you do, take care of others.” He eyed the half-eating sandwich. “What about taking care of yourself? Asking for help?”

Shiro’s eyes widened in response. “You know I can’t-”

“Oh, I’m aware of your opinion on the matter. It never changed.”

That was what caused it, right? Their fall out. It was exhausting, devastating, not being able to offer a helping hand because someone simply refused.

And in the end, that agony had strained their relationship.

Shiro clenched his fists.

“What can I do?”

To his surprise, Adam grabbed one of his hands under the table. “Stop being so stubborn.” His words were harsh, but his tone was soft. “For him,” he took a deep breath, “for you.”

Not for me.

Shiro nodded, not trusting his voice not to tremble. They spent the next ten minutes in a comfortable silence, drinking their beverages and eating. Thinking, making decisions, in Shiro’s case.

“Was it good?” Adam asked once he finally finished the meal.

“It was, thank you.” He had more things to thank him for, he couldn't say it out loud, though.

Thank you for telling me to wake-up.

“Great, cause it’s on me this time.”

And with that, Adam stood up, but this time Shiro didn't panic at the sight.

“I’ll get going then.” He adjusted his glasses, a tick. “Don’t be a stranger, you have a phone for a reason. Answer your damn texts.” Of course he wouldn't leave without giving him one last reprimand.

Shiro giggled, a soft sound almost unnoticeable. It had been a while since something caused him to laugh.

He watched him go like he was in trance. Once he got out of his sight, he unlocked his phone and opened his texting app. 

I think it’ll make Keith happy if you come over for dinner.

If you want to, no pressure.

This Saturday works fine for me.

Shiro stood there reading his reply over and over for too long. If someone told him he had woken up in another reality this morning,

he could easily believe them after today’s events.

Shit, he still needed to pick Keith up but after that he was going to take a long nap.

And maybe try to find some therapist afterwards.