May 27, 2008
San Francisco
The apartment was quiet.
A thin line of streetlight slipped through the curtains, stretching across the bedroom wall.
Steve lay beside Kevin in the darkness.
For a long time he stared at the ceiling.
The bench.
The park.
The words he had spoken out loud for the first time in years.
Eventually exhaustion pulled him under.
⸻
The platform was crowded.
The sound of footsteps.
The electronic sign flickering above the tracks.
Mizuki standing ahead of him.
Hands in his coat pockets.
The distant rumble of a train.
"Mizuki—"
The yellow line.
The wind rushing down the platform.
The arrival jingle echoing through the station.
Headlights bursting out of the tunnel.
A flash of white light—
Steve jolted upright in bed.
A scream tore out of his throat before he could stop it.
Beside him Kevin woke instantly.
"Steve—hey—hey—"
Kevin grabbed his shoulders gently.
"It's okay," he said quickly. "It's okay."
Steve's chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.
For a moment the room still felt wrong — like the platform had followed him into the dark.
Kevin pulled him closer.
"You're here," he said softly.
"You're safe."
Steve buried his face in his hands.
The memory faded, but the feeling stayed.
His shoulders began to shake.
Kevin wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly.
"It's okay," he repeated quietly.
Steve didn't answer.
He just cried.