The sky is shining with breathtakingly vivid shades of orange, pink, and lilac as the sun slowly sinks behind the horizon of the endlessly wide Pacific ocean.
It's been a week since the brand new ocean liner Empress of Japan left the harbour in Vancouver, heading for her nine-day voyage towards Yokohama, and Juri has spent an hour every evening on the front deck, watching the setting sun.
Well, maybe not only the sun.
Across the deck near the front there is a young man standing by the railing with a handheld camera. Juri knows nothing about cameras, but it doesn't matter, as he's more interested in the person behind it anyway. The man might be taking nice pictures, but he also makes a nice picture himself.
He is Japanese, with a slightly overgrown black hair, pale skin and delicate facial features framed by the warm golden glow of the sunset. He's wearing a matching set of a brown jacket, vest and pants with an ordinary, white collared shirt and a grey hat; all very neat and clean.
Fascinated, Juri finds himself staring at the man in a way that would scandalize his mother. Were you raised in a barn? Where are your manners, young man?
Suddenly, the man glances across his shoulder as if he's somehow sensed he's being watched, and Juri can only smile at him sheepishly. The man doesn't seem fazed at all. Instead, he lifts his chin in a short 'hello there' gesture, wordlessly inviting Juri to join his company.
Delighted of not having to come up with a lame excuse to talk with him, Juri crosses the distance between them, stepping over the anchor chains to get to the other side.
"Good evening," he says when he gets close enough to talk, touching the edge of his flat cap. "Tanaka Juri."
The man nods and smiles at him, and oh boy if that smile isn't as breathtaking as the picturesque scenery in front of them.
"Kyomoto Taiga. I've seen you at the dining hall. You travel with a brother, don't you?"
Surprised - but admittedly pleased - Juri confirms. "Yeah, Koki. I've got three more brothers at home. Haven't seen them for years though."
"It's a long way," Kyomoto agrees. "Visiting or staying for good?"
"Staying."
“Same.”
Resting his arms against the railing, Juri quietly follows how Kyomoto balances his camera on the same railing and prepares for a picture of the sunset. For a moment it looks worrying, until his eyes catch the leather strap attached from one end to the corner of the camera and looped around Kyomoto's wrist on the other. Even still he waits until Kyomoto has pressed the shutter and is holding the camera with two steady hands before talking again.
"You're a professional photographer?"
Kyomoto smiles lopsidedly. "Used to be. I worked in another photographer’s portrait studio in San Francisco for the past five years. Loved every day."
Kyomoto's voice is wistful as he closes the camera into a compact little box that he slides into the pocket of his jacket.
"Then why did you leave?"
Kyomoto shrugs. “Someone who lost their job and savings yesterday doesn't waste their pennies for a portrait today. There just weren’t enough customers anymore. The owner had to lay me off, and I figured I could as well go home. My mum’s been asking me to come back anyway.”
Juri nods, looking down at the white splashes of water by the bow of the ship.
“And you?” Kyomoto prompts. “Why did you leave?”
Juri doesn’t look up, letting a frustrated puff of air out of his nose. “Why do immigrants leave the States these days? I used to work at construction sites but nobody is building houses now. Ever since the depression hit, it’s hard for a white American to keep a job, let alone find a new one. Imagine being a Japanese immigrant and trying to do the same?”
Kyomoto turns to look at him, crossing his arms on his chest.
“Imagine? I am a Japanese immigrant,” he points out dryly, and. Yeah. Point. Their eyes finally meet, and suddenly Juri can’t stop a laughter that bubbles from his chest because Kyomoto is absolutely fucking right, and even though there should be nothing funny about it, somehow that’s still hilarious. Kyomoto raises a brow, but then he laughs too, scrunching his nose so funnily, Juri’s heart leaps with the sheer adorableness of it.
The last bright rays of sun disappear behind the horizon and the light breeze is getting cooler, but the two men chat by the railing until it’s dark and the lamps on the deck light up. Only when Kyomoto starts rubbing his palms together, Juri realizes how late it is.
“You’re freezing,” he says softly.
“I guess I should return to my cabin,” Kyomoto reluctantly admits. He looks up into Juri’s eyes and pauses, looking like he wants to say something more. “Will I see you here tomorrow?”
“Here? For the sunset?” Juri asks, glancing around the deck. He can already see himself shuffling around the decks for hours, just waiting for the evening. Not a very appealing image, when he’d rather see Kyomoto again as soon as possible. “How about breakfast at the dining hall ins-“ He swallows the last word because he definitely doesn’t want a breakfast date instead of the sunset watching. He wants both, and everything between, too.
At first Kyomoto looks surprised. Then, there it is again; that sweet, warm smile that gives Juri butterflies. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants and hopes dearly that the darkness disguises the redness of his heated-up cheeks.
"See you tomorrow then, Kyomoto," he rushes to say.
"Taiga," Kyomoto corrects, then hastily adds, “I mean. I got used to people using my first name. In the States.”
It’s probably true, but it also sounds a bit like a lie, like it’s just a hasty excuse for getting closer somehow. Whatever the truth, the intimacy of using first names makes the butterflies in Juri’s stomach go haywire.
“Alright. See you tomorrow, Taiga.”
“See you, Juri.”
-
They do meet at the breakfast, during which Juri introduces Taiga to his brother and the three of them tell each other stories of their time in America. Juri learns that Taiga is an only child of a wealthy family, born and raised in Tokyo. He sailed across the ocean after his twenty-fifth birthday, simply wanting to see something new.
Glancing to the side, Juri meets his brother’s eyes. Koki doesn’t say anything but Juri knows exactly what he is thinking about: How strange it feels that some people can travel abroad for fun. What would Taiga think if he knew what brought the two of them in America? Koki seems to read the question on his face too, because he makes a short, indifferent expression, do as you wish, before standing up with a calm smile.
"I’m going for a smoke and then to meet some friends," he says and puts his cap on. “It was nice to meet you, Kyomoto."
Once he’s gone, Taiga turns to look at Juri curiously. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“I’m not blind,” Taiga chuckles. “You two obviously had some kind of a conversation over my head.”
Juri pokes on his food. So Taiga noticed. Well, they weren’t being very secretive.
“It’s just,” he says slowly, “Koki and I, we weren’t exactly… We left because we wanted to support the family. You know, working and sending the money home.”
It’s unclear if Taiga understands what Juri is trying to convey, but he nods at least, and doesn’t pry on it, which is good enough for Juri. He’s not exactly ashamed of being poor, but it’s not a topic he delights in discussing, either.
Also what on earth is Taiga doing in the third class dining hall? He must be in second class at least. No-one travels for fun in the third.
“Hey, can I show you something?” Taiga suddenly asks. Whether or not that's just an awkward attempt to move the conversation to lighter matters, Juri doesn’t care, but eagerly grabs the chance to talk about something else.
The change of topic includes leaving the dining hall and waiting on a bench at the front deck while Taiga fetches something from his cabin. Juri doesn't mind; he likes watching people. Most are third class people, but there are some people who have clearly descended from the second class promenades in order to get to the main deck.
"Sorry I made you wait," Taiga pants when he finds Juri, like he's just run all the way down to the cabin and back. He's carrying a book of some kind, and he hands it over to Juri as he sits by Juri's side.
"What's this?" Juri asks, opens the book and gasps in surprise. Of course it's a photo album - he could have expected it.
He slowly leafs through the album, stopping here and there to look more carefully. Most of the photos are studio portraits taken in the States, glued in neat rows and picturing serious people in their best clothes, but there are also other kind of photos: some are taken outside in a park or at a street, while some are studio photos, just more relaxed and even whimsical kind with people smiling and holding hands, even kissing.
Taiga is a good photographer. The models look relaxed and natural despite having had to sit perfectly still for several seconds for the exposure of the picture to come out right.
Juri's eyes widen when he turns a page and spots a picture of two men sitting side by side, resting their foreheads against each other. He can't help but stare at it, the way their bodies are turned towards each other, their fingers entangled together as their hands rest on their knees. Their eyes are closed but the corners of their mouths are turned upwards, and -
They look happy.
Something twists in Juri's stomach; a terrible mixture of fear and yearning. How has Taiga managed to take such a photo in the states? How did the two men dare show such intimate affection in front of anyone, let alone a photographer who literally has the power to show around a copy of their photo anywhere he wants? Ever since Koki had to pay Juri out of jail after just one dance with another dude at a night club a year ago, Juri has been terrified to as much as glance at other men. Even then he was infinitely lucky to have been caught dancing, not the night before when much more happened than just an innocent training session of lindy hop.
He's suddenly very aware of how still Taiga is sitting next to him, and he knows Taiga knows exactly which photo he is so enthralled by.
Mind buzzing, he resists the urge to turn the page and let the moment pass. It's just one picture. How much can he read into it? Should he say something? Would it be worth it to try and see?
It would.
"I like this one," he says quietly, glancing at Taiga from under his brows, waiting in turn to see what Taiga will say. If he's mistaken, he can always save himself by claiming he meant another picture on the same page; a lovely portrait of an elderly couple, a lady and a gentleman who look as much in love at eighty as they probably were at twenty.
Taiga meets his gaze warily, his eyes moving quickly as he studies Juri's face, no doubt doing the same calculation of threats and opportunities Juri just did. Somehow that makes him feel a lot better. Unless, of course, Taiga is an undercover policeman trying to assess whether Juri has already crossed the line of acceptable behavior by appraising a photograph of two homosexuals, and should be thrown into the holding cell of the ship.
But then Taiga flashes such a quick, small smile that Juri can't imagine him wanting to fool him.
"Would you like to see more?" he asks in a low voice. It's probably just so the people walking by won't hear, but it still makes Juri's heartbeat pick up.
"Yes," he says firmly, and Taiga immediately closes the album.
"Come with me."
It feels weird to enter the second class cabin corridors, though they look much the same as the third class. Juri follows at Taiga's footsteps, feeling mildly proud of the accuracy of his earlier assessment of Taiga's class while wondering how long it will take for someone to notice and kick him back to where belongs. They don't encounter many people at this hour of day, but the feeling of being in the wrong place persists nonetheless.
Taiga opens the lock of one cabin and holds his door open so Juri can slip in.
The cabin is narrow, but it still feels roomier than the one in which Juri resides with his brother and four other people. It's brighter too, as there is a small, round window at the wall. The furniture is simple: a chair, a writing table, a drawer with an enamel wash basin and a mirror on it, and a bunk bed.
When Taiga crouches to rummage through a bag under the haphazardly made lower bed, Juri notices the upper bed looking virtually untouched.
"Are you alone in this room?" he asks, amazed by the realization. Having grown up beside four brothers to share space with, he doesn't think he's ever slept a night alone in his life.
"I had a roommate," Taiga says with an amused smile as he straightens up with a new album in his hands, "but I haven't seen him since the first evening. He hasn't slept here once. Guess he found more interesting company somewhere else. Here."
Juri takes the album and carefully sits on the edge of Taiga's bed, trying his best not to think anything more about it. The last thing he wants is to scare Taiga away by making him feel like he's trying something unseemly.
Taiga sits next to him, close enough that his thigh brushes against Juri's, and Juri finds himself wildly hoping that unseemly things are exactly what Taiga wants. He opens the photo album to distract himself.
The first photo is the only one on the page, placed artfully in the middle, leaving lots of empty space around the edges. It shows a man lying on a sofa naked, with just a corner of a quilt covering his intimate parts, and Juri only barely manages to suffocate a gasp.
He lets his eyes wander from the man's long, long legs to his stomach and chest, and up to the face. The lights and shadows are just right, making the man's skin look smooth and soft while bringing out every contour of his well-shaped muscles. The man looks like he might be half Japanese, half American, and he's truly a great specimen of the both. He has a serious, almost challenging expression, and it feels like he's looking directly at Juri.
It's hard to resist the urge to just keep staring at this one picture, but he's also curious to see more, so he turns the page.
The next photos are smaller in size and there are several of them on the same spread.
There are more pictures of the same man. Some of them are of him alone, but in some pictures he has a companion; another man. He is clearly Japanese, with black hair and dark eyes. In one of the photos they are lying in a bed on their stomachs, shirtless and laughing. The other man even has laugh wrinkles in his eyes, and even though the men haven't been able to stay completely still, thus making the photo slightly blurred, their joy comes through. Somehow that touches Juri deeper than he could have imagined.
These men are like him; attracted to each other. He doesn't know how he knows it, but he is sure about it. And they're happy. They've been lucky enough to find a partner by their side who doesn't just accept them, but actually shares their way of life.
It must be wonderful.
Juri slowly leafs through the album, carefully stopping to look at each photo, wanting to appreciate them all like they deserve to be appreciated. There are more people, men and women, and some whose gender he can't guess even if though he tries to. Most of people are fully clothed, but the closeness and intimacy between them is undeniable nevertheless.
Most people in the photos look Japanese, but there are also many whose blond hair and blue eyes come out light grey in the photos. Some people have clearly come to take their portraits together, while some photos look like Taiga himself has planned and arranged them to suit his artistic visions.
On the last spread there is a series of photos of two more Japanese men. They are wearing dark pants and white cotton shirts, their sleeves rolled up to the elbows. One of them is probably the most beautiful man Juri has ever seen - except for maybe Taiga himself. His smile is soft and his eyes gentle as he looks at the man with him. His partner's eyes are brighter and smile wider, but Juri's heart aches for the undeniable love that he can see in his eyes, too.
One of the photos shows the men kissing, one cupping the other's face with his palms as the other has his arms tightly wrapped around his partner's waist. Juri's mouth feels dry just looking at the picture, yearning tugging at his heart again. He wants what these two have. He wants it so much, it feels like a physical ache in his chest.
Suddenly, Taiga's hand is on Juri's shoulder. Startled, Juri winces and moves out of his reach.
"Sorry," Taiga stammers, taken aback by the rejection. "I thought- I didn't mean-"
Juri shakes his head hard, his heart pounding. It's alright. Nobody saw them. It's just him and Taiga in the room.
"You just looked so sad," Taiga says quietly, turning to look at his own hands, both now resting in his lap.
"I'm sorry," Juri mutters, ashamed of being such a chicken. Taiga just surprised him, that's all. The memory of his touch burns on Juri's shoulder still.
He wants to kiss Taiga, and it terrifies him. Even worse, he wants to lay Taiga down to the bed and straddle him and kiss him again and take off his-
"We should go," he says and leaps up to his feet. "I need some fresh air."
Taiga closes the album and crouches deliberately slowly to put it back into his bag.
"Do you want to go alone or can I join you for a walk?" he asks when he's done, keeping a perfectly decent distance between them. Juri hates it, but he is thankful, too.
As for what he wants...well, he's not sure himself. He wants a peaceful life. He wants love. He wants to be happy. He doesn't want to get in trouble. He doesn't want to be treated like a criminal for just being himself.
But Taiga isn't treating him like a criminal. He's merely offering his company and kindness.
"Can we walk?" Juri asks, hating how tiny and timid his voice sounds. “Together, I mean.”
Outside, it’s easier to breathe. It’s also easier to walk side by side with Taiga when they’re around other people and Juri doesn’t have to worry about…well. Whatever it is that he feels is going on between them.
Out at the deck he can even ask Taiga about the photos he just saw.
“I lived by taking portraits,” Taiga explains, pushing his hands into his pockets and letting his eyes wander around the deck, “but I really wanted to create something with my photos.”
“Like art?” Juri asks, smiling.
“Yeah, something like that,” Taiga says thoughtfully. “I think people are beautiful.” He turns his eyes at Juri again, his gaze slowly wandering over him. The intensity of the look makes Juri squirm and he feels hot all over.
“Those people in the photos,” Juri says quickly, though he isn’t sure what he’s trying to ask.
A soft smile tugs at the corner of Taiga’s mouth. “I think you know what kind of people they are. I want to picture all kinds of people, especially those that the society wouldn’t consider worthy of being pictured at all.”
“And your employer was fine with that?” Juri asks, trying to distract them both from noticing how touched he feels by the thought of everyone being worthy of their picture taken. He’s only ever been photographed once in his life - for the passport he needed in order to travel to the states.
Taiga nods, looks away for a moment before he glances at Juri again. “He was. In fact I suspect he was the lavender kind himself. We came along just fine.”
And there it is, out and clear. Juri’s heartbeat leaps to his throat and he feels hot and cold at once. If Taiga doesn’t already know how attracted Juri is, he’s surely going to notice by now. The thought is terrible and exhilarating at the same time. Of course, Juri is nowhere near good enough for Taiga, but maybe they could…that is, surely not even Taiga can afford to be too picky when it comes to spending a night or two with someone.
Probably?
Not that Juri knows - he only found out about his own invert tendencies when he was already living in California. He’s never tried to find male company in Tokyo. Perhaps it’s easier there? At least back home a fella isn’t going to be imprisoned for liking another man - another thing that his brother had to tell him. And what an awkward conversation that was. He still winces when thinking about it.
”Look, I honestly don’t care who you fancy, but you gotta be more careful about it. And if you can’t, you’d better go back home.”
“Juri?”
Taiga’s voice suddenly breaks through his thoughts.
“Are you all right?”
Juri blinks at Taiga. “What are you going to do when you get back to Tokyo?” he blurts out, once again trying to avoid the topic towards which they seem to gravitate again and again.
For a moment Taiga just looks at him, then he stops to lean against the railing and look at the ocean.
“I thought I’d set up a studio of my own. Portraits make steadier income to live with,” he says thoughtfully. “But I don’t want to be stuck inside a studio every day. I want to go out and photograph everything! As soon as I’ve saved up enough, I’m going to buy the newest camera model - they’re so small and fast these days, I could just—” he suddenly falls silent, throwing a sheepish smile at Juri. “Sorry. Guess I got carried away.”
Amused, Juri shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I like to listen to people talking about things they’re passionate about.”
Taiga’s pleased smile warms Juri’s heart, but then Taiga looks at him again.
“What are you going to do? Once you get home.”
Juri feels his own smile freeze, the expression staying on his face unchanged even though he doesn’t really feel like smiling anymore. What is it with Taiga that makes it impossible for him to dodge all these uncomfortable topics? He didn’t want to talk about it at breakfast. Perhaps he should have. Taiga is being so nice to him. He should probably know the facts before he ends up doing something he doesn’t want to.
“I’m probably trying to find work at some construction site. Like I did in California,” he says slowly. “The thing is, I… Well. I’ve got four brothers and our father hurt his back at work when I was little, so it’s been hard for him to provide for us all.”
Down at the waterline waves hit the side of the ship, breaking in bursts of white spray. Juri picks a dry piece of skin at the side of his thumbnail. Taiga doesn’t say anything.
“I only went to school for six years. My parents wanted us to learn so we’d have better chances later in life, but they couldn’t afford us all being away from home so much. Only those who did the best at school could go to middle school. Koki and I…we weren’t those two. He’s ten years older than me but when he and his friend decided to travel to the United States in order to work there and send the money home, he took me with him. I’m glad he did, even though we couldn’t stay anymore. At least I got to be useful for a while.”
There. He said it all, and now Taiga knows exactly what an insignificant human being he is. He doesn’t regret being open and honest, but for some reason he still can’t quite look into Taiga’s eyes.
Taiga nods quietly, as if to say he understands. How on earth could he ever understand, though?
“I don’t care,” he says, making Juri raise his brow. It sounds quite a hurtful thing to say, but nothing else about Taiga’s demeanor indicates a wish to hurt Juri’s feelings, so he simply waits.
“I don’t care whether you’re highly educated or poor or what,” Taiga elaborates. “I like you as you are.”
Juri feels his cheeks burning (again), and he hastily steers the conversation to other things (again).
By dinnertime it seems they have talked about everything between the earth and the sky, and all Juri has achieved is to to fall for Taiga harder by the minute. Taiga is a bit weird with his fixation to beautiful things in front of his camera lens, but he is kind and funny too. His eyes are pretty and his smile warm and inviting, and Juri’s whole body is screaming to get closer to the man. It’s mad, he knows it is. Yes, they haven’t even known each other’s names for a full twenty-four hours, but it feels like a week already, and yes, he is being ridiculous, as his sensible side so kindly reminds him every few minutes. But the other side…well, his heart has never cared much about common sense anyway.
That’s why he has an answer ready when Taiga finally suggests they move to the dining hall before the dinner is over.
“Actually, I was going to ask,” Juri says, swallowing in the middle. “There’s a party downstairs, to celebrate the last evening. I was wondering if you’d want to join me. There’s gonna be food and beer and music too, I suppose.”
Taiga’s eyes widen for a moment before his face melts into a smile.
“Of course I want to join you!”
The party is just starting when Juri and Taiga descent the stairs to the third class hall. Dozens of people have gathered together. A Canadian guy with whom Juri has talked a couple times is already pulling the first notes out of his accordion, and next to him are two American girls tuning their violins. Soon they start the first song together, and people immediately join them, dancing and laughing. Someone starts to pour beer into people’s mugs and breadrolls and little pies are handed around for those who are hungry.
Juri brings a pint of beer for them both. They talk with each other and some other people, too. They meet Koki who grins and stops to exchange a few words before going to meet his own friends again. They drink a couple pints more as the evening progresses, and Juri feels pleasantly light-headed.
When Taiga finally grabs his hand, he only glances quickly around but doesn’t pull his hand right away. Nobody is paying them any attention at all.
They get to dance too, as there are less women around than men. The dances are boisterous and fun enough that they aren’t too intimate even for two guys, but when the crowd pushes them together, Taiga grabs Juri from the waist and Juri can’t help himself. He allows himself to lean against Taiga, to feel his solid warmth against his own body. He only meant it as a fleeting moment, too short for anyone to notice, but Taiga tightens his hold and leans close enough to whisper into Juri’s ear.
“Shall we move to somewhere more private?”
Juri’s heart leaps to his throat, but Taiga’s eyes are dark and full of want, and Juri simply isn’t strong enough to resist the desire to follow him. He can’t get a word out of his mouth, but he nods and pulls Taiga aside and out to the corridor. At the doorway he quickly glances back to see Koki still in the party, apparently holding a drinking contest with some other people. Good. Juri is going to need their room for a moment.
His plan fails though, as their door is locked when they get there, and the rhythmic squeaking of a bunk bed reveals exactly what kind of activity is already going on in the room. Feeling his face heat with embarrassment, and even more embarrassingly, arousal, Juri curses aloud.
His breath hitches when Taiga steps closer behind him, chest pressing against Juri's back and lips brushing the shell of Juri's ear when he murmurs, "Let's go to mine."
Taiga's room is empty, and Taiga promptly locks the door, even though the vanished roommate probably has a key of his own.
"Don't worry about him. I doubt I will ever see him again,” Taiga chuckles, standing by the door and eyeing Juri with a tilted head.
When Juri doesn’t move, Taiga walks over to him and slowly lifts a hand, sliding it under Juri’s jacket and feeling his waist though the thin cotton shirt. Juri shivers from the gentle touch and closes his eyes - and gives in. The door is locked. It’s just him and Taiga. And he’s finally done with being scared.
He lets Taiga pull him closer, wraps his arms around Taiga’s neck, and after one last second of hesitating, presses his lips against Taiga’s lips. Taiga answers the kiss eagerly, like he’s actually been waiting towards this moment as much as Juri has, and Juri’s knees suddenly feel weak. He needs to get closer. He needs to touch and taste and hear and feel, so much so that his body burns with it.
He lets out a disappointed sound when Taiga takes a step back, but then Taiga sheds off his jacket and waistcoat, and opens the two top buttons of his shirt, staring into Juri’s eyes until Juri understands to move ahead and unbutton the rest of the shirt. Hands shaking, he fumbles with the buttons and finally pulls the shirt off Taiga’s shoulders, and his breath hitches at the sight of the smooth skin.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes the first words that come up to his mind.
“Thank you,” Taiga says, eyes twinkling, and something about his confidence makes Juri’s heart pound even harder. Taiga smiles and tugs on Juri’s shirt until the hem comes loose from his pants.
The room temperature is quite low and Taiga’s bedsheets are cool against Juri’s skin when they lay down, but Juri hardly notices the cold when Taiga sighs deeply and arches his back to meet his vaseline-slicked fingers. And when he finally slides in, Taiga holds him tight around the neck, gasping and moaning in the rhythm of their movements.
Later, they lay in each other’s arms, legs tangled together and the duvet carelessly pulled on their lower halves. Juri keeps his eyes closed though he’s really not that tired and enjoys the gentle strokes of Taiga’s forefinger as the man draws invisible pictures on the sweat-sticky skin of his chest and stomach. Juri doesn’t even remember the last time he felt so relaxed and comfortable.
He only opens his eyes and glances at Taiga when Taiga’s hand stops.
“Hmm?” he hums with a languid smile.
Taiga draws some more circles on Juri’s stomach and chest, then drags his fingers up Juri’s neck.
“May I take a picture of you? Now.”
Juri’s first instinct is to refuse. He already feels sick about the thought of other people possibly seeing the photo. Then he remembers the photos he saw during the day: the brave women and men who took the risk and let themselves love whomever they wanted to.
“I trust you,” Juri says, and even though it’s not quite the yes-no answer Taiga was going for, it is enough, and Taiga smiles again.
The process itself is strange, and it couldn’t be further away from the quick snapshot of a photo that Juri posed for when trying to get a passport the the states. Taiga has a full vision of what he wants to see. He tells Juri where to stand or lie down, where to crouch and where to look across his shoulder. Posing in front of the camera completely naked, with just the duvet to cover his hips, feels oddly intimate and vulnerable, even more so than what they just did. Yet at the same time it feels weirdly good to be seen like this, completely himself, with no pressure from clothes or acquired roles.
Last of all, Taiga pulls Juri to sit on the left half of a small chair in front of the drawer. Taiga crams himself to the other half so they both can see themselves from the mirror, and lifts his camera up in front of them taking a picture of their reflection. It’s already dark outside so the window doesn’t offer much light anymore, and the tiny reading lamp by Taiga’s bed is pretty useless too, so the picture requires a long exposure time and it’s probably still going to be an overly dark and blurry photo. Yet Juri can already imagine what it will look like, with their tousled hair and naked upper bodies. If anyone ever happened to see the photo, they would immediately know what happened just before it was taken.
“Smile,” Taiga says and Juri smiles, but on the same moment Taiga presses the shutter, he leans in to press a firm kiss on Juri’s cheek.
That night, Juri sleeps in Taiga’s cabin, pressed tightly against the warm, warm body of the other man.
Early in the morning he wakes up alone. On the writing table lays his own carton of cigarettes and a small piece of paper saying “At the front deck.”
Juri pulls on his pants, shirt and jacket and tiptoes out of the room, towards the front deck.
He finds Taiga exactly where he thought he would. There Taiga stands, leaning against the railing on the eastern side of the ship and pulling long breaths of a cigarette which no doubt is stolen from Juri’s carton. In front of him the dark blue of the night sky is quickly turning into the lighter shades of dawn. At the horizon black outlines of land are already visible.
“It’s not good for you,” Juri points out as he steps by Taiga’s side.
Taiga raises a brow in a way that already feels so familiar and so dear to Juri. “It’s not good for you, either.”
“You’ve got my lighter.”
Taiga fishes the lighter from the pocket of his pants and lights the end of the cigarette that Juri is holding in front of him, before handing the lighter back to Juri. The smoke from their exhales raises up towards the fading stars and evaporates into the cool morning air. They still can’t see the harbor, but the end of their voyage is undeniably close. The ship will reach Yokohama by the noon.
“Will you come to get the developed photos, later? I live in Daikanyama.”
“I will,” Juri promises.
They fall in silence again, and though Juri wouldn’t mind talking, it’s also nice to just stand there side by side, close enough that he feels the warmth of Taiga’s arm against his own as they both lean against the railing.
“We missed the last sunset,” Juri murmurs wistfully.
“But we got the dawn,” Taiga points out and smiles softly. “Dawns are good too. They feel like new beginnings.”
Juri meets Taiga’s eyes and studies his expression for a while. A small smile tugs at the corners of his own mouth.
“Yeah,” he says. “I like beginnings too.”