When Akuji had ushered out the last of his Friday night guests, his brave smile melted away from his face. He slumped against the door, and cried. Seeing his friends come, with their partners, with their happy smiles and loving touches, made his heart ache; and he wanted nothing more than to never see them again.
His mind swirled with a picture of a beautiful young man with eyes like coffee, and he cried harder. He hadn’t seen Takeshi in weeks, and he doubted that he would. He’d been terrible; there was no reason for the younger man to come back. Why should he involve himself with an old, broken drunkard?
I’m not old… He thought feebly, but ignored the small voice. He felt old. He felt old and tired and he didn’t want to live anymore. But another letter had arrived from China, this time from the local authorities in Hong Kong, where Ming had been living. She was dead; hit by a car, and Kenji was coming to live with him, because he had no other living relatives.
That small star of hope made his heart swell and his eyes tear joyfully. He was going to see Kenji again. He was going to see his baby. His little sunshine.
That was the only thing keeping him alive.