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queensweetsWhite Wings & You
Chapter 6 – relief
To say it was awkward between them during the rest of Takahisa's stay was an understatement. They managed to get out a futon for him to sleep in, it was past midnight long ago anyway.
When Takahisa closed and locked the door he made a move to sneak up the stairs. A voice from the small living room called him. Shaking, he walked into the room, the stench of alcohol making him want to throw up. His father sat in the armchair. Nowadays they only had that one armchair and an old TV in there and he could be sure he could find his father there, if he wasn't out buying more alcoholic drinks or the rare times he actually got to the bedroom to sleep.
"Y-y-yes?" he stuttered quietly, looking anywhere but at his father.
"Where'd ya go yesterday, brat?" Kosuke asked as he glared at his son.
Takahisa blinked a little, fixating his gaze at an empty beer bottle. "I-I sl-slept at a f-friend's ho-house.."
"Who said you could do that?" An emptied beer can was thrown at him and then his father's fist met his cheek, making him stumble back.
"I l-left a n-n-note!" Takahisa cried out as he tried to cover his head with his arms to get at least some protection as punches rained down on him. He curled up into a ball, just to get kicked in the back, making him topple over. He was too scared to even dare to cry, didn't make a sound. After a few minutes, that felt like an eternity for the blonde, the punches and kicks stopped. He laid there on the floor as his father spat on him and sat down in the worn-out armchair again and turned back to the TV. He just laid still, trying to regain his breath through the biting pain. Finally managing to breathe somewhat normally, he pushed himself up to stand up even though his body protested.
Wincing as his father glared at him for letting out a whine when intense pain cut through his arm, he stumbled up the stairs with his rucksack, cradling his arm.
After placing his rucksack carefully under the bed, he went to the small bathroom to find the first-aid kit. As he cleaned the bruises he'd gotten, he reminded himself that he needed to buy more antiseptic, band-aids and bandages. He wrapped bandages as tightly as he could around the lower part of his left arm, hoping it wasn't broken. At least it wasn't his right hand, the one he held his racket with. He could feel his hand slowly turn numb.
He stayed inside the next few days until the bruises on his face weren't as noticeable. When he walked to the street courts, he saw a bright red mop of hair already training against the wall.
He considered turning back and leaved before he was spotted, but he hadn't held a racket for almost a week.
He walked toward the changing rooms, nervous all of a sudden. He hadn't really talked with Wakato since that evening at his house. What if he was angry? He didn't have anyone else. Sure, he knew some of the members by name only, but Wakato was- Wakato was- he was-
"Hey." Takahisa's whirl of thoughts were cut off when the object -or person- on his mind spoke, his voice uncertain.
"Hi." The blonde's voice held just as much uncertainty. It was like both of them were scared of what would happen next. Their eyes met for a second and Wakato opened his mouth. For a few seconds he didn't make a sound, but he finally found the words he'd been wanting to say. "I waited for you here, every day. What took you so long?"
Takahisa blinked. "Wha-What?"
"I mean, y-you're not mad at me or something, I hope." The times Wakato stuttered were far more rare than the times Takahisa did, so Takahisa understood that he must have been really nervous.
"Why would I be that? A-And you? You- You're not mad at me?"
Wakato sank down on the ground, turning his face to the sky and crying out. "Yokattaaa! I thought you hated me now and that's why you didn't come."
Relief washed over them both and Takahisa sat down back to back with Wakato.
"I was scared, you know." Wakato said, slowly. "I've never been scared before."
"Me too." Takahisa agreed. He had been scared, scared of losing his only friend. Though he didn't confess that he'd been scared of most things during his life.
They sat there in silence for several minutes, looking up at the sky. It looked like it would snow soon.
Then Wakato asked something Takahisa had preferred he hadn't.
"What's with the bruises?"
Takahisa's body tensed for a second before his brain could think up a good lie. "I-I-I- fell down the stairs!"
He couldn't see Wakato furrowing his eyebrows, but he heard the skepticism in his voice.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
Wakato turned against him, making sure Takahisa looked into his eyes before speaking. "I'll let it go this time. But please, Kajimoto, if something happens, tell me. You can trust me, you know that, right?"
Blushing a little at the serious tone in the redhead's eyes, the violet-eyed boy nodded slowly.
"I know. I promise."
He did trust Wakato, he trusted him more than anyone. But he knew there was no way he could tell Wakato something like this.
At new years evening the two of them met up to watch fireworks. It was as if all of Kanagawa was glowing in the colourful explosions. Wakato let himself lean his shoulder against Takahisa's and closed his eyes. Takahisa could feel himself relax and turned his head as he felt the scent of Wakato's shampoo when the direction of the wind turned.
His hair smelled really nice, was the only thing running through his head before he realized just how close they were.
Wakato, noticing how still his friend was and titled his head so he was facing the other. "Why're you holding your breath all of a sudden?" He paused. "And you're blushing."
Takahisa let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Um.. You smell nice.. I mean your hair.. um.."
Blinking, Wakato sat up straight again, looking at him.
"That is.. ano.. Kajimoto.." The redhead watched the blush and embarrassed look on Takahisa's face. Letting out a deep breath he leaned his head against his friend, a soft smile playing on his lips as he closed his eyes. "Why do you always say the cutest things?"
Takahisa wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved that nothing more happened after that. At around one o'clock they got off the roof they'd been sitting on, saying goodnight and parting for the night.
Takahisa clapped his cheeks, trying to will the blush away. Hormones was a real pain, he thought, as he looked at himself in the mirror.
Wakato had helped him style it with the redhead's own hair-gel or wax or something, he couldn't really remember exactly. It looked more bouncy and reminded him of Wakato's own hair, only on a lower level of styling. He'd said stop when Wakato wanted to play even more with his head, making his friend pout. It only lasted for a few seconds though, before a big grin split his face in half.
"You look awesome with your hair like that." He took Takahisa's face between his hands so he could see him more clearly. "Yep, I'm a genius at this." He smiled proudly. "This hairstyle suits you better than when it was all flat. With the shape of your face an' all that." He was silent for a while, sitting still with his friend's face between his hands.
No one was in the club's locker room other than them. The buchou hadn't checked if it was empty before locking and they found themselves unable to get out.
Of course Takahisa worried about going home, he was sure to get a beating after not coming home at night, but he pushed it to the back of his mind since there really was no way to get out of there.
Wakato had started to entertain himself by begging Takahisa to let him style his hair. It took a while to convince him that he would not make a disaster of it and once the younger agreed he fished out a comb, a jar of some wax or gel of some sort, and a scissor, along with lots of hairclips.
Takahisa blinked. "You.. always carry that around?"
Wakato just nodded and steered Takahisa to sit by a mirror on the floor. He'd moved it from the toilet wall and put it on top of their backpacks.
He was actually pretty good at it, Takahisa had to admit, and he told him so, receiving a hug as thanks for the compliment.
"If I don't go pro or anything, I want to be a hairdresser." the redhead confessed.
"I've.. never thought about what I want to do in the future." Takahisa said. He didn't even know for how long he'd survive. He was too busy with the 'now' to think about that.
"What are you two doing in here?"
Takahisa blinked his eyes open while Wakato growled and covered his with an arm. Hanamura stood in the entrance.
"Iya, we got locked in.." The redhead scratched his head. They had slept close together due to the cold, and their hair was all messed up.
Hanamura raised an eyebrow at them before telling them to get out of there and hurry up. She'd have to talk with the buchou at practice.
The next day, Takahisa didn't show up for school. Wakato worried, it was really rare for him not to come.
Two days later, he showed up again, his face bruised and walk a little awkward. When Wakato asked about it, Takahisa just tried to laugh it off, although it hurt his jaw more than he'd ever admit, even to smile. "I think the stairs at home dislikes me." he joked.
Wakato didn't buy it for a second, but no matter how many times he would ask the answer would be the same.
Chapter 6 – relief
To say it was awkward between them during the rest of Takahisa's stay was an understatement. They managed to get out a futon for him to sleep in, it was past midnight long ago anyway.
When Takahisa closed and locked the door he made a move to sneak up the stairs. A voice from the small living room called him. Shaking, he walked into the room, the stench of alcohol making him want to throw up. His father sat in the armchair. Nowadays they only had that one armchair and an old TV in there and he could be sure he could find his father there, if he wasn't out buying more alcoholic drinks or the rare times he actually got to the bedroom to sleep.
"Y-y-yes?" he stuttered quietly, looking anywhere but at his father.
"Where'd ya go yesterday, brat?" Kosuke asked as he glared at his son.
Takahisa blinked a little, fixating his gaze at an empty beer bottle. "I-I sl-slept at a f-friend's ho-house.."
"Who said you could do that?" An emptied beer can was thrown at him and then his father's fist met his cheek, making him stumble back.
"I l-left a n-n-note!" Takahisa cried out as he tried to cover his head with his arms to get at least some protection as punches rained down on him. He curled up into a ball, just to get kicked in the back, making him topple over. He was too scared to even dare to cry, didn't make a sound. After a few minutes, that felt like an eternity for the blonde, the punches and kicks stopped. He laid there on the floor as his father spat on him and sat down in the worn-out armchair again and turned back to the TV. He just laid still, trying to regain his breath through the biting pain. Finally managing to breathe somewhat normally, he pushed himself up to stand up even though his body protested.
Wincing as his father glared at him for letting out a whine when intense pain cut through his arm, he stumbled up the stairs with his rucksack, cradling his arm.
After placing his rucksack carefully under the bed, he went to the small bathroom to find the first-aid kit. As he cleaned the bruises he'd gotten, he reminded himself that he needed to buy more antiseptic, band-aids and bandages. He wrapped bandages as tightly as he could around the lower part of his left arm, hoping it wasn't broken. At least it wasn't his right hand, the one he held his racket with. He could feel his hand slowly turn numb.
He stayed inside the next few days until the bruises on his face weren't as noticeable. When he walked to the street courts, he saw a bright red mop of hair already training against the wall.
He considered turning back and leaved before he was spotted, but he hadn't held a racket for almost a week.
He walked toward the changing rooms, nervous all of a sudden. He hadn't really talked with Wakato since that evening at his house. What if he was angry? He didn't have anyone else. Sure, he knew some of the members by name only, but Wakato was- Wakato was- he was-
"Hey." Takahisa's whirl of thoughts were cut off when the object -or person- on his mind spoke, his voice uncertain.
"Hi." The blonde's voice held just as much uncertainty. It was like both of them were scared of what would happen next. Their eyes met for a second and Wakato opened his mouth. For a few seconds he didn't make a sound, but he finally found the words he'd been wanting to say. "I waited for you here, every day. What took you so long?"
Takahisa blinked. "Wha-What?"
"I mean, y-you're not mad at me or something, I hope." The times Wakato stuttered were far more rare than the times Takahisa did, so Takahisa understood that he must have been really nervous.
"Why would I be that? A-And you? You- You're not mad at me?"
Wakato sank down on the ground, turning his face to the sky and crying out. "Yokattaaa! I thought you hated me now and that's why you didn't come."
Relief washed over them both and Takahisa sat down back to back with Wakato.
"I was scared, you know." Wakato said, slowly. "I've never been scared before."
"Me too." Takahisa agreed. He had been scared, scared of losing his only friend. Though he didn't confess that he'd been scared of most things during his life.
They sat there in silence for several minutes, looking up at the sky. It looked like it would snow soon.
Then Wakato asked something Takahisa had preferred he hadn't.
"What's with the bruises?"
Takahisa's body tensed for a second before his brain could think up a good lie. "I-I-I- fell down the stairs!"
He couldn't see Wakato furrowing his eyebrows, but he heard the skepticism in his voice.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
Wakato turned against him, making sure Takahisa looked into his eyes before speaking. "I'll let it go this time. But please, Kajimoto, if something happens, tell me. You can trust me, you know that, right?"
Blushing a little at the serious tone in the redhead's eyes, the violet-eyed boy nodded slowly.
"I know. I promise."
He did trust Wakato, he trusted him more than anyone. But he knew there was no way he could tell Wakato something like this.
At new years evening the two of them met up to watch fireworks. It was as if all of Kanagawa was glowing in the colourful explosions. Wakato let himself lean his shoulder against Takahisa's and closed his eyes. Takahisa could feel himself relax and turned his head as he felt the scent of Wakato's shampoo when the direction of the wind turned.
His hair smelled really nice, was the only thing running through his head before he realized just how close they were.
Wakato, noticing how still his friend was and titled his head so he was facing the other. "Why're you holding your breath all of a sudden?" He paused. "And you're blushing."
Takahisa let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Um.. You smell nice.. I mean your hair.. um.."
Blinking, Wakato sat up straight again, looking at him.
"That is.. ano.. Kajimoto.." The redhead watched the blush and embarrassed look on Takahisa's face. Letting out a deep breath he leaned his head against his friend, a soft smile playing on his lips as he closed his eyes. "Why do you always say the cutest things?"
Takahisa wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved that nothing more happened after that. At around one o'clock they got off the roof they'd been sitting on, saying goodnight and parting for the night.
Takahisa clapped his cheeks, trying to will the blush away. Hormones was a real pain, he thought, as he looked at himself in the mirror.
Wakato had helped him style it with the redhead's own hair-gel or wax or something, he couldn't really remember exactly. It looked more bouncy and reminded him of Wakato's own hair, only on a lower level of styling. He'd said stop when Wakato wanted to play even more with his head, making his friend pout. It only lasted for a few seconds though, before a big grin split his face in half.
"You look awesome with your hair like that." He took Takahisa's face between his hands so he could see him more clearly. "Yep, I'm a genius at this." He smiled proudly. "This hairstyle suits you better than when it was all flat. With the shape of your face an' all that." He was silent for a while, sitting still with his friend's face between his hands.
No one was in the club's locker room other than them. The buchou hadn't checked if it was empty before locking and they found themselves unable to get out.
Of course Takahisa worried about going home, he was sure to get a beating after not coming home at night, but he pushed it to the back of his mind since there really was no way to get out of there.
Wakato had started to entertain himself by begging Takahisa to let him style his hair. It took a while to convince him that he would not make a disaster of it and once the younger agreed he fished out a comb, a jar of some wax or gel of some sort, and a scissor, along with lots of hairclips.
Takahisa blinked. "You.. always carry that around?"
Wakato just nodded and steered Takahisa to sit by a mirror on the floor. He'd moved it from the toilet wall and put it on top of their backpacks.
He was actually pretty good at it, Takahisa had to admit, and he told him so, receiving a hug as thanks for the compliment.
"If I don't go pro or anything, I want to be a hairdresser." the redhead confessed.
"I've.. never thought about what I want to do in the future." Takahisa said. He didn't even know for how long he'd survive. He was too busy with the 'now' to think about that.
"What are you two doing in here?"
Takahisa blinked his eyes open while Wakato growled and covered his with an arm. Hanamura stood in the entrance.
"Iya, we got locked in.." The redhead scratched his head. They had slept close together due to the cold, and their hair was all messed up.
Hanamura raised an eyebrow at them before telling them to get out of there and hurry up. She'd have to talk with the buchou at practice.
The next day, Takahisa didn't show up for school. Wakato worried, it was really rare for him not to come.
Two days later, he showed up again, his face bruised and walk a little awkward. When Wakato asked about it, Takahisa just tried to laugh it off, although it hurt his jaw more than he'd ever admit, even to smile. "I think the stairs at home dislikes me." he joked.
Wakato didn't buy it for a second, but no matter how many times he would ask the answer would be the same.