September 2000
San Francisco
By the end of summer, Mizuki had practically moved in.
Not officially.
But his shoes sat by the door most nights, and his jacket usually hung over the back of Steve's chair.
Sometimes he stayed after work. Sometimes he showed up late with takeout. Sometimes they simply fell asleep on the couch watching television.
It had all happened so naturally that neither of them had ever really talked about it.
One evening Mizuki let himself into Steve's apartment a little earlier than usual.
Steve was sitting at the small kitchen table finishing some homework when he heard the door close.
"Hey," he called.
Mizuki didn't answer right away.
Steve looked up.
Mizuki stood near the door, still holding his bag, his expression a little different than usual.
"Everything okay?" Steve asked.
Mizuki walked over slowly and sat down across from him.
For a moment he just looked at the table.
"I have to tell you something," he said.
Steve immediately felt the shift in the room.
"What is it?"
Mizuki took a breath.
"My job told me today they're not renewing my work permit."
Steve blinked.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I have to go back to Japan," Mizuki said quietly.
The words seemed to hang in the air between them.
"For how long?" Steve asked.
"At least a year."
Steve leaned back slightly in his chair.
"And... what does that mean for us?"
Mizuki rubbed his hands together.
"I don't know."
He looked up at Steve.
"I can't just marry you and stay here."
Steve gave a faint laugh.
"Yeah, that would be a little complicated."
Mizuki shook his head slightly.
"Some people do fake marriages to stay," he said. "But I don't want that."
Steve nodded slowly.
For a few seconds neither of them spoke.
Finally Steve leaned forward.
"What if I just came with you?"
Mizuki looked up.
"What?"
Steve shrugged slightly.
"I mean... what if I applied for a study abroad program or something?"
Mizuki stared at him.
"You would move to Japan?"
"Why not?"
Mizuki shook his head in disbelief.
"You would do that for me?"
Steve smiled.
"Of course I would."
He reached across the table and took Mizuki's hand.
"I love you."
Mizuki's eyes softened.
"I don't want anything to change between us," Steve continued. "If you have to go home, then I'll come see where you grew up."
For a moment Mizuki said nothing.
Then a slow smile spread across his face.
"That would actually be pretty amazing," he said.
Steve laughed.
"See? Problem solved."
Mizuki squeezed his hand gently.
"Japan might surprise you," he said.
Steve grinned.
"I'm counting on it."
Outside, the late evening fog rolled slowly through the streets of San Francisco.
Inside the apartment, the future suddenly felt wide open.