I miss you so much

A laptop lighted up the otherwise dark and quiet millionaire's penthouse. The screen's light highlighted the pair of eyes as they focused on a looping video.

Jiro's finger pressed the pause button as he leaned closer to the device. He had watched the same clip dozens of times, zooming in on different parts of the screen, searching for a clue he had missed - and every time his features turned sad as he saw the slender figure stepping on a train.

A swarm of people obscured his appearance, but he could still see the slim silhouette and the shoulder-length hair that was faded teal in color.

He strained his eyes one more time, trying to spot any specific details that might hint at the train number or its destination, but the crowd blocked every possible clue.

Jiro let out a sigh of frustration and ran his fingers through his scruffy white locks, which he no longer bothered to comb. He opened his email tab and skimmed through the notifications, even though it was obvious that the logistics group wouldn't respond in the middle of the night.

Jiro had sent a message, asking them for any information about the train and the young man with blue-green hair - probably not many people looked like Natsuo there, so maybe someone paid attention to his rather exotic looks. He also asked if they could provide him with a list of employees working at the station at the time, so he could contact them one by one and ask about his missing partner.

Regardless of the price, he was willing to pay anything, no matter how much, in return for any material that could help him locate the person he feared was lost forever.

Yoshio had agreed to hack the station's video footage and get Jiro a copy, but he kept asking him for more help. The hacker had only reminded him that someone had every right to disappear without a trace and he should respect that, but Jiro refused to do so.

He had to find Natsuo.

The man fished for his phone out of his pocket and dialed his roommate's number for the hundredth time that week. Even after calling and texting him every couple of hours, he had not received a response - and again after a few seconds, he heard the automated answering machine's robotic voice again.

"Natsuo... please, let me know you are safe, even if you don't want to talk to me."

He could feel his lips tremble as his eyes looked at the blurry silhouette on the screen. His chest tightened as the train left the station, taking the person with it.

The man forced himself to focus, blinking away tears that threatened to obscure his vision.

"I have explained myself many times on your voicemail, but I just want you to know that I am truly sorry for keeping things secret and leaving you in the dark. I broke your trust, I get it, but how was I supposed to say such a thing when you finally opened up to me? When we finally..."

His eyes fell on the light grey sweatshirt his roommate liked to wear, even when it was too large for his frame. He had worn that on his last day and draped it on the back of the chair, so Jiro refused to put that away, since it was one of the last things his treasured partner had touched.

His gaze moved to the kitchen where they had shared and cooked countless meals with one another.

They baked pancakes on their last morning together, laughing and joking as the batter sizzled in the pan. Jiro had smeared his lips with whipped cream so he could ask the other to lick them clean. Of course, he had done the same to him, teasingly painting the sweet foam on the man's lips before leaning in for a kiss, not leaving a drop behind.

Natsuo had been so excited to show off his developing culinary skills, but as much as he tried, the griddle cakes had been a bit burnt and deformed - hardly an issue, because Jiro had never tasted anything so delicious in his life.

He closed his eyes and leaned back into the chair, trying to clear his mind and stop tears from flowing.

"I miss you so much," he sighed, ending the message as his throat choked with emotion.

One day, he imagined being reunited with his boyfriend and the two would become closer than ever. It didn't matter how difficult their relationship had been, he believed their bond would be unbreakable. It had to be.

(Elsewhere at the same time)

A harbor was dark and quiet that night, with only a few late-night workers walking around. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves against the docks. The silence was eerie, yet calming as if the entire world held its breath waiting for something to happen.

A slender individual walked along the shore, stopping to watch the black sea as it shimmered in the bright moonlight.

Natsuo had arrived in a small, peaceful fisher town several days ago, expecting to find a safe haven from the turmoil of the city and the memories that haunted him.

Every night, he took a stroll beside the ocean, hoping the surroundings would bring him comfort and solace from the constant sorrow and loneliness he felt - but no matter how long he looked out into the distance, he couldn't find the peace he sought.

His emotions were a jumbled mess, overflowing with confusion and remorse.

The ex-thief had withdrawn money from the ATM while still at Tokyo's train station and counted it out, figuring it would be enough to survive for over two months in cheap accommodation. There was no doubt that the multimillionaire was keeping track of his credit card and would inevitably look for him if he used it, so he decided not to swipe it while he was there.

As a result, he rationed his money carefully and ate only cup noodles every day - one thing the streets had taught him was how to deal with hunger, come up with strategies, and find ways to stretch his limited resources. He had survived before and he was sure he could do it again.

His chest ached as he stared at his phone's blank screen, remembering his last conversation with Jiro.

He could only speculate on what the other could have texted, if anything at all, but he was not ready to face those feelings. His emotions were locked away tight in his heart, where they would remain until he was ready to confront them.

(A while later)

Natsuo eventually returned to the somewhat decaying hostel that served as his home, dragging his steps. He kept his hands shoved inside his pockets, his hood deep on his head, and his eyes downcast as he strolled along the deserted street.

As he passed by an alleyway, he heard muffled sobs and faint sniffles. He stopped and hesitantly peered into the darkness - then, his eyes caught sight of a familiar person crouching on the nearby steps, making him flinch in shock.