「 war of the roses 」

▸ ‘ & the Wild Bear ;

      How certain could Masamune be, however? Used to be, Yokozawa would believe him on the spot and say nothing more until his boyfriend’s work was submitted. As the years went by, Yokozawa’s patience depleted, and his reluctance to believe everything would be submitted on time did not mix well with his more personal problems. The fact of the matter was, Masamune’s team had been alloted more than enough time to have been finished already. He worked in a hectic field, but Yokozawa didn’t really see that as any excuse for falling behind schedule; though maybe it really was just their crippling relationship making him think this way.

      He watched silently as Masamune lit himself a fag, the smoky fumes filling the space between them… It tempted the man who’d given the nicotine up to light his own, but instead, he turned the idea away and narrowed his eyes at the other man.

      “Those are going to kill you…” He growled out. Gripping his cup of tea so tightly his knuckles were pointed and bleached.

                 _{Cold eyes were trained on the sale’s manager as the editor took a long drag from his cigarette–smoke seeping past his lips in spite of the other beside him. Takano understood the frustration that his boyfriend had towards his team’s tracking date for each manuscript; however, that never lessened the irritation he had towards the other as he nagged him day in and day out. Work was already a pain; he didn’t want to take it home with him. He could almost say that work was what strained his relationship with the male–the constant bickering, the thickening tension surrounding them–it was all to OVERWHELMING for him to even comprehend. Days like these were the reasons why he avoided coming home–why he chose to ignore the problems at hand.}

                          “What are you, my mom? I know
                            you quit, but that doesn’t give
                            you the right to dictate what I
                            do. Get off my case, will you?.”

「 war of the roses 」

▸ ‘ & the Wild Bear ;

➔ editorialisms

      They’d been sitting in silence a while now, which wasn’t uncommon for them, but the fact was, Yokozawa was in desperate need of information regarding the current project they were working on. If Takano’s team didn’t pick up the pace, Yokozawa would have nothing to sell by the deadline, which in turn would fuck over all the departments at Marukawa publishing, not just theirs. They had a reputation to uphold; they couldn’t afford screw ups, and if Yokozawa were going to be honest, an editorial team was only as good as their leader.

      So, he had to wonder, was Takano getting lazy?

      The sales manager cast his boyfriend-of-six-years a sideways glance, brows furrowed in dismay, because neither of them had said anything since Takano arrived home… That was impeding on more than just the information Yokozawa needed. It was also impeding on their suffering relationship ━ or could it even be considered that anymore? Lately, it felt more like two strangers shacking up under the same roof taking turns feeding a cat while pretending the other didn’t exist in fear of exploding on one another. He supposed there were still some nights they managed a full conversation other than booming voices and tossed inanimate objects, however rare.

      As much as he wanted to remain level-headed about this, and not arrogant for thinking it was Takano who needed to change to better their disgraceful relationship, his impatience was heavily affecting his thoughts altogether and before he could control himself, he grumbled, “…how much longer will it take your department to finish on Rising Waves? The deadline is nearing and my team needs at least a week before we can finalize the release.” Appearing awfully casual for someone who just took an unnecessary jab at their “lover”, especially with the way he took a drink of his cold tea and refused to make eye contact with the man beside him.

                         _{Time alone with Yokozawa hadn’t been one of the biggest highlights of Takano’s day. Constant bickering and arguing left a bitter taste in the editor’s mouth–causing him to distance himself around his boyfriend, both in AND out of work. Most of the blame could be put on the amount of stress Takano felt during the countdown before his official deadline–which majority of his team members, including him, never seemed meet. However, to the chief editor, there might have been an underlying reason why he was just so DISTANT around Yokozawa. The tough walls that were easily torn down the fallen angel of his past were rebuilt, but deemed difficult to tear down by the other despite the time the two had been together. In a way, Takano felt a hint of GUILT for holding onto something as small as a past lover–not exactly saying that the editor didn’t have the slightest bit of feeling for the manager. The admiration he had towards his lover was more than he could say for most, and he found himself slowly opening up to him as much as he could; however, the past was still a part of his life that he couldn’t let go–no matter how hard he tried.}

                           _{There was a slight pressure that made itself known to the editor as his head fell back against the couch; his eyes twitching shut as he listened to his boyfriend. Despite his desire to publish his team’s individual author’s work on time, Takano somehow lost all promptness from his works as the years went by. Majority of the mangakas began to procrastinate–bringing in some sort of blockade into their lives and shutting themselves down during crucial moments. It was already out of Takano’s control; he already discussed it with the manager. Anger and irritation began to boil within him as he slowly opened his eyes and pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket–pulling out one of the sticks from the pack and placing it between his teeth. The desire to fill his lungs with nicotine somehow spiked during the lecture. A spark ignited the cigarette as Takano took a long drag; his eyes closing once more due to the pleasure of the smoke. Slender fingers clipped the cigarette in the middle, dragging it from his bruised lips to allow him to respond; his voice raspy,}

                               “How many times do I have to
                                tell you that I will get it done?
                                We’re waiting on the last man-
                                uscript from Satou Sensei.”