In the late evening, the moon was out over the horizon, but unseen. Dark clouds were obscuring the stars again, but this time there was a crisp chill in the air. Stirrings of wind were swirling high to the sky, bringing old autumn leaves with them, then laying them down again. 

Across the street, French Cup was aglow. The Christmas lights were cheerful, blinking like they were winks. The light inside was golden, warm. I sat on the bench in the small park, my hands in gloves and my scarf wrapped tight. I was waiting for him. 

Earlier in the day, we'd enjoyed hot chocolate together. I'd had two cups of spicy hot chocolate, and he'd explained to me that it was a Mexican recipe. He'd heard of it when he was kid, and it had stuck with him, fascinating him. He'd said it was one of the millions of reasons why he was into sweets in general. I'd stayed there, absorbed in him, as he told me about his passions. He told me that he wished to create, make new things and introduce them to others. In that way, he said, he was an artist. I fully believed him. He was an artist. A most amazing artist.

When I'd gotten back to the hotel, I'd stood in the middle of my room, thinking about him. His smile as he'd told me this. His blushing at his experiences, his unthought of hands all over the place, helping him in his descriptions. His hands telling me how much he loved sweets. These same hands which made all of them, such strong and skilled hands. As I thought about his hands, I was frozen in place. Imagining their movements, the way the fingers curled. How large, but delicate they were. I thought of them coming toward me slowly, alighting on my chest and staying there. Traveling up my skin, cupping my face. His eyes staring into mine, that unsure expression there. His eyes closing, as we got closer together, my arms going around him, and...

My own hands had turned into fists, and I found I was breathing hard. But, not out of excitement. It was something else. My own hands went to my face, covering. Trying to gain control of myself. 

Now, I was in the park. I'd wandered here, wanting to be close to him, but not knowing what to do. 

We couldn't be together. That much I knew. He seemed interested maybe. I'd read those signs, but maybe he was just really kind. From the way he treated everyone, it seemed to be the case. But, he was more interested in me than anyone else. He'd wanted to see me, too. I couldn't just be imagining it. Could I? 

And now, here I was. Trying to see him again. He might think I was creepy. But, every time we met, he always had a smile for me. 

I jumped hugely, almost falling off the bench as something large and warm collided with my pants leg. I was breathing quickly, trying to see it in the darkness. There was nothing. My hand went to my chest as it happened again. This time, it almost felt like...

My hand went out as I leaned over, searching, making clickings with my fingers. My mouth made clickings, too. Calling out to the creature. Sure enough, from under the bench came two round, yellow eyes reflected from French Cup's light. 

Slowly, a very large black cat emerged. It sniffed my fingers, then rubbed its cheek against them, so warm through my glove. It went for it again, and somehow I found myself smiling. My fingers went under its chin, scratching there. The gentle hum of purring went into my hand, radiating up my body. 

"Are you visiting your cousin?" I asked it quietly, indicating to the small, but still fresh grave that we'd all helped complete not even a week ago. It seemed so long ago now, somehow... It only purred more loudly, happy at my scratchings. It flopped down, and somehow I was grinning. My hand massaged the back of its neck. 

I was so absorbed in this, that I didn't see Kazuya come out of French Cup. Didn't see him walking over here. 

"Gyeong-Wan?" 

I startled hugely again, but this didn't disturb the cat that was now so relaxed at my feet. "Oh- oh, Kazuya?" I wanted to make it seem like I just liked being out here in the cold. That this park was just nice, I wasn't here for any other reason. But, the real reason was so weighted...

"What are you doing here?"

I could still see his clear grin as he was backlit by the still glowing French Cup. 

"Ah... Nothing. I um, saw this cat and sat down. It's really friendly." The cat was still flopped down, enjoying itself. 

"Oh, that's Kuro. He's my favorite. He seems to know when French Cup closes. I give him wet food if he's around when I come out. He must know what time it is." He chuckled, crouching down to give him a few pets between the ears. 

"Kuro? His name is just 'black'?" Now it was my turn to laugh. What a basic name. But, I was quieted in a seconds. How could I be laughing now? It had been impossible to me only a minute ago. 

He laughed with me and sat down. "Yeah, the neighborhood named him. He's been around for a long time, probably fathered a lot of the cats around here. He's the boss of the neighborhood."

"The 'boss'?" I stared down at Kuro, who hadn't moved from the spot. He was almost on top of my foot. 

"Yeah, like in old Yakuza movies. There's a whole hierarchy of cats in the neighborhood. We modeled it off of Yakuzas."

My hand covered my mouth as I laughed at this. How cute. Yakuza cats. Who'd thought of that? "Why not call him 'boss', then?" I asked. 

"Well, he got the name Kuro when he was a kitten. We didn't know he'd become the boss," Kazuya snickered. 

"Oh, okay." We laughed together. 

I wanted to ask him if he wanted Thai food, or any other food. Maybe he was tired and was better off going home to get some sleep. Maybe he'd want to go see a movie, even if we were late to the showing. Maybe, we might try something new. I wanted to ask him anything except for what was on my mind. But, it was a growing nag.

"So, what are you doing out here? It's so cold. Why didn't you come into French Cup? I'd have given you a warm drink." He was smiling again, but I could do anything but smile now. He noticed my serious face after a few seconds, and his matched mine. "What's wrong?" A rushed tone, worry there. I was so sorry. His face matched mine, so much worry. We'd been laughing. I wanted to laugh with him. 

The wind blew up our coats, and we pulled them closer around us. It really was unfair to him to be out here like this. Maybe it was better to ask him to go see a movie. Anything that was playing at the cinema was fine. I'd go see anything with him. Anything to avoid talking about this.

It was my own funeral. I was about to ruin everything. I couldn't go on any longer without telling him. It was even more unfair to him than having him be in the cold, worrying him. There was no telling how he'd react. Telling him that I had a girlfriend, that I liked him, but-

"It's snowing!" He gasped hugely, standing up from the bench. The cat at our feet darted off. "Oh, sorry, Kuro!" He laughed. He went out to the middle of the park, only maybe three yards away, and spread out his mittened hands, staring up at the sky. Small white flakes were twirling around him, starting to come down. They were like small ghosts' tears in the glow from French Cup, illuminating barely, but so beautiful. He was so beautiful, smiling up at the sky. His grin was everything. My everything... 

I sat there, staring at him. It felt like minutes, but it couldn't have been more than one. He gestured to me to come over, that bright smile so warm. I got up and joined him, and we gazed up at the sky together, so close that we were almost touching. Almost...

"Look! Ahhn," he said cutely, his little pink tongue going out, trying to catch the snowflakes. "You do it! Ahhn," he did it again, inviting me.

This feeling inside welled up within me as his tongue was out, too cute. This need. This torturing despair, telling me "no". Don't do it. Anything, but that. But, I did it anyway, and my entire body was a quivering mess. Trembling, every speck of adrenaline I'd ever had returning. Making even my breath shake.

My arms took him, holding him to me. He froze for a second, but his arms eased around me, too. He was smaller than me, but just the right size. Like a puzzle piece that I didn't know I was missing. Strange to think that, when I didn't know I was missing it a week ago.

"Oh, you're shaking... Gyeong-Wan, what's wrong? Are you cold? Come on, let's go, I'll make you some hot-"

"Kazuya, I'm gay."

A stifled noise came from him. A sort of gasp. I couldn't see his face, but he wasn't trying to get away, so I kept going. I had to keep going.

"I wanted to tell you that, but... I've never told anyone. I- I've never told anyone..." 

Suddenly, there was heat on my face, rolling down it. As snowflakes fell all around us, landing on us, attempting to make the world a glowing white, I was crying. I was crying in his arms, shaking like a child. 

He held me silently as I wept, probably for a long time. Gently, like warm waves, he started to rub my back. In my ear came his own wet whispers. He was crying, too. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay, honey. You're safe. You're safe." Telling me this over and over until I stopped crying. But, he continued to hold me for as long as I wanted. He didn't try to get away, and he never did. We only parted when I was ready. 

I stood there like a little boy, unsure what to do now that I'd said it. He stared at me, his lips slightly parted, his eyes shiny and in shock, but also in dear caring. It was all there. Then very gently, as gently as I'd been with Kuro in trying to get him to trust me, he took my hands. And like going into another warm hug, he led me to the waiting, familiar, and welcoming space of French Cup.