Take My Hand - Part 1

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Take My Hand - Part 1

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You've gotta take my hand
And lead me to where you are
You know I'll follow
To show me the way to your heart

Think you've locked your heart away
Baby, I hold the key
Believe me when I say
My love can set you free
~Sara Evans, Show Me the Way to Your Heart

"Are you sure? He never gets sick."

Fighting the overwhelming impulse to grab Hasukawa by the shoulders and shake him until some semblance of sense fell into place in the puzzle box of his mind, Mitsuru massaged his aching eyeballs.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he counted backwards from ten in his head, desperately seeking that calm, happy place he so longed to be in.

"I know that. You know that. Everybody seems to know that, except for him. So why don't you just march right on in there and tell him to his face that he can't possibly be sick?"

"Uhhh..."

Placing his hands on his hips, Mitsuru scowled at the shorter boy, violet eyes narrowed.

"Well?"

Hasukawa stared up at Mitsuru, his mind racing as he scrambled for a suitable reply.

"I...er...that is... Oh geez, look at the time. I gotta go!"

With those oh so brave words, Hasukawa Kazuya turned tail and ran, leaving Mitsuru standing in the hallway outside his room gaping after the redhead in astonishment.

"Huh. Never thought he'd try that trick. He's finally learning." Mitsuru muttered to himself, feeling a strange sort of pride in the dense redhead.

And then he heard the sound that had caused him no end of misery for the past two days:

"Mitsuruuuu!"

Closing his eyes, Mitsuru murmured a calming mantra to himself.

"I will not kill my best friend. I will not kill my best friend. I will not kill my best friend. I will not -"

The silvery tinkle of a bell broke his concentration, and suddenly the thought of homicide didn't seem quite so appalling. Certainly, the judge would go easy on him...what was that term again? Mitigating circumstances...

The sound of a lung-clearing cough reached his ears, and Mitsuru's expression softened, a small smile crossing his face.

Oh, what the hell. He took care of me when I was sick, and that couldn't have been a walk in the park either.

"Mitsuruuuu!"

Then again, if Shinobu happened not to survive...

Sighing, Mitsuru reluctantly walked into his room, wincing inwardly at the wretched sight that greeted him.

Shinobu sat in the middle of the room, completely swathed in the warmest blankets they had. He sniffled pitifully as he looked up at Mitsuru. The floor was all but covered by used tissues, wadded up into tiny little balls.

Sitting on the floor next to him, in seeming innocence, was the thrice-damned tool of the devil.

A tiny, silver-plated bell.

Where Shinobu had gotten it was a mystery to Mitsuru, although he knew better than to ask.

Trying not to think of all the billions upon billions of germs inhabiting each tissue ball, Mitsuru inched his way through the mess to sit beside Shinobu.

Blinking slowly up at the blonde, Shinobu was the very picture of abject misery. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, lacking their usual malevolent gleam. His nose was red and raw-looking from blowing it so often, and his hair was a disheveled mess.

Stifling a sigh, Mitsuru had to admit the silver-haired boy was definitely...adorable like this. With his guard down, there was none of the icy cool that Shinobu was so famed for. None of that silly inaccessibility he worked so hard at cultivating to get in the way.

In fact, he looked almost...well, kissable.

Mitsuru ducked his head so the other boy wouldn't see the blush that had bloomed on his cheeks. Bad enough that he thought his roommate was attractive, but if Shinobu ever found out...

"What did you want, Shinobu?"

Pleased that his voice didn't betray him, Mitsuru picked at a loose thread at the cuff of his pants. It gave him something else to focus on instead of Shinobu's alluring gray-green eyes, or the delicately sculpted cheekbones, or his -

Shinobu sneezed violently, breaking him out of his decidedly intimate thoughts. Mitsuru squeezed his eyes shut, biting his bottom lip as he desperately tried to think of the most hideous thing he could to derail that train of thought. Nothing immediately came to mind. All he could think of was how soft Shinobu's lips would feel against his, the way -

"Mitsuru, I - "

His eyes snapped open as Shinobu's voice sounded inches from his ear, and he suddenly noticed that the other boy was leaning heavily on him - far too close for his own comfort.

Scrambling backwards as fast as he could on his hands and knees, Mitsuru winced as Shinobu lost his balance and toppled forward, sprawling flat out on his face in an undignified heap.

Ooooh...he's not going to forget that any time soon.

Reflexively, Mitsuru was already edging towards the safety of the doorway, not wanting to be anywhere Shinobu just then. If there was one thing the silver-haired boy hated more than getting sick, it was being embarrassed.

He was within an arms length of the doorway, when he heard something that made him stop where he stood. Cocking his head to hear better, Mitsuru's eyes widened slightly as he caught what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.

It could have just have been Shinobu's cold - it was really the only reasonable explanation - but somehow, Mitsuru knew that wasn't it. The years he'd known Shinobu had taught him a little of how the other boy worked, and something about him lately was wrong.

Sighing, Mitsuru squared his shoulders and waded through the used tissues, kneeling beside Shinobu. Tilting his head to the side, Mitsuru's lips quirked into a small smile. He could just barely see Shinobu's lips moving, although whatever he was saying was too quiet for him to hear. It was cute, in a way.

"Here, Shinobu. Let me help you."

Shinobu offered no resistance as the blonde managed to get him into a more or less upright position, although he didn't seem likely to stay that way. Gritting his teeth and telling his hormones that now was not the time, Mitsuru pulled Shinobu up against him, supporting the other boy's weight.

They sat like that for a long moment, just listening to the sound of each other's breathing; Mitsuru's smooth and even, and Shinobu's labored and a bit ragged on the edges.

"I hate this."

Mitsuru blinked, jolted from his thoughts by the venom in Shinobu's voice. He felt something inside him twist, and he started to push away from the other boy, when he felt a hand latch onto his forearm.

Startled, he looked askance at his roommate, who was scowling mightily at the floor between his feet. Shinobu's grip on his arm loosened until it was a comforting warmth.

"I hate being so helpless. I hate having to depend on other people for every little thing like this, and I hate being sick!"

The ache in Mitsuru's chest eased, although the memory of it was still fresh in his mind. A wistful smile found its way to his lips, as he resettled into his original position.

"Is it really so bad, Shin? Having somebody else looking after you for once?"

With Shinobu reclining against him, Mitsuru felt the other boy's twitch of dismay. Frowning, he unconsciously tightened his hold on Shinobu, offering what comfort he could.

"I just...I just don't like not being in control of things, Mitsuru."

Ahhh...so that's it, ne? Should have known.

"It'll get along without you, you know." He said softly, fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to run his fingers through the tangled mass of hair right in front of him.

"What will?" Shinobu asked curiously, suspicion tingeing his voice.

"The world. You don't have to be in control every little second, Shinobu."

"So you say."

Mitsuru smiled a little at Shinobu's belligerence. Other people called it strength of character, but he knew it for what it really was: stubbornness.

"Oh, really? Then how do explain how the world got along perfectly fine before you happened on the scene?"

"Reincarnation."

"Reincarnation?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, Shinobu, how many past lives have you had?" Mitsuru inquired, trying not to let his smile show in his voice.

"That's not the point." Shinobu informed him snippily.

"Then what is?"

"The point is," Shinobu began, enunciating his words carefully as though he were speaking to a very dimwitted child, "is that I can't allow myself to get sick. Let alone wallow in sloth, like some others I could mention."

Rolling his eyes, Mitsuru sighed. Really. Was there no getting through to him? Shinobu couldn't possibly be that mule headed...could he?

"Fine. Whatever you say, Shinobu. The world is going to collapse if you're not there to oversee everything. The heavens would fall, the mountains would crumble, and it would be just one really big mess without you. Are you happy now?"

Quietly, but filled with an undeniable note of smugness: "Yes."

Mitsuru sighed to himself, wondering how in the holy hells he'd ever managed to fall in love with someone as painfully stubborn and inscrutable as Tezuka Shinobu.

The soft, regular breathing from the boy leaning against him was no help either - Shinobu had fallen asleep.

I hope you appreciate what I do for you, Shinobu. Mitsuru thought, sighing in a martyred way, a tad bit miffed that he was - once again - being used as a cushion.

But damned if he was going to lose all feeling in his legs because there was an impossibly beautiful boy sleeping on him. Shifting his position carefully, so as not to wake Shinobu, Mitsuru made himself as comfortable as he could. Considering the circumstances.

Shinobu slumbered on, unaware of the slender fingers threading gently through his hair as Mitsuru gave in to his earlier desire to touch the silky softness, a small smile on his lips.

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"Come on, get up."

There were two parts of him that recognized that voice. The first, and definitely less lucid of the two mumbled something undoubtedly rude, but it came out as nothing louder than an irritated grumble. The second, slightly more awake part of him wanted nothing so much as to simply lay there, pressed against the warmth of the body at his back.

"Shinobu, I'm giving you to the count of three, and then I'm dumping your uncooperative butt on the floor."

Gray-green eyes slitted open, sleep hazed and unfocused. Shinobu turned his head slightly in order to get a glimpse of Mitsuru's face.

"What?"

"Well we can't just stay like this all night. I am not sleeping on the floor again, Shinobu. Come on, I'll help you up."

Shinobu's gaze flicked to the window, his eyes widening imperceptively. It was full dark out, and judging from the muffled snores coming through from either side of their dorm room walls, everyone else had gone to sleep long ago.

How long was I asleep? And why on earth didn't Mitsuru wake me sooner? He couldn't have been comfortable like that...

A hand, which was attached to a rather well muscled arm, suddenly appeared in Shinobu's field of vision. Following the appendage upwards, he saw Mitsuru smiling down at him, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"I think maybe we should cut your medicine dosage down - you seem a little out of it."

Glaring at his smirking roommate, Shinobu accepted the offered aid, grunting a little as Mitsuru effortlessly pulled him to his feet. Resenting the hell out of it, Shinobu allowed the blonde to tow him along behind him, his eyelids already beginning to droop.

Stopping at the bunk bed, Mitsuru turned to Shinobu and frowned slightly, his violet eyes troubled. Shinobu was about to ask him what the problem was, when Mitsuru placed his hand on the center of his chest, fingers spread, and gave him a gentle push.

Unsteady on his feet, Shinobu fell backwards, his eyes locked on his roommate's face. Flinching inwardly, he expected the back of his skull to connect with the bottom on Mitsuru's bunk, only to realize that Mitsuru's hand was there, guiding him on the way down, protecting him from harm.

Once his body made contact with the soft mattress, Shinobu's eyes slid shut of their own accord as sleep beckoned with its sweet siren call. Wriggling a little to make himself comfortable, his eyes popped open as he felt the light weight of a blanket being drawn over him. And then another one. And another. And another, until he could no longer feel the faint chill in the room.

"There, all comfy and cozy?" Mitsuru asked, a peculiar little smirk on his face as he tucked the silver-haired boy into bed.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you."

Mitsuru's eyebrows vanished into his hairline as he gave his roommate one of his patented 'who, me?' looks.

"We definitely need to lower the dosage. You're starting to sound paranoid, Shinobu."

Snorting disdainfully, or trying to - damn his clogged sinuses - Shinobu rolled over as best he could, cocooned within the blankets as he was, turning his back on Mitsuru and his irritatingly cheerful grin.


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Mitsuru lay awake for some time after he'd climbed into his own bed, staring at the ceiling above him, and trying to pin down the exact moment he'd fallen for his roommate. A kaleidoscope of memories blurred at the edges, but never completely forgotten, and never truly appreciated until they were gone.

Che, what does it matter? Not like anything's ever going to come of it. Best to forget it all and move on.

But still, there was that nagging little something within him that just wouldn't go away. The ever annoying 'what if?' that had plagued man since the beginning of time. The 'what if?' didn't deal in optimism or pessimism, but rather it dwelled in that hard to find middle ground, neutral territory, until someone chose to take that last step and reach for it.

So what if I decide to make the first move? What if something happens between us? What if I ruin our friendship because of it? What if...

Sighing, Mitsuru closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, the soft sound of snoring drifting upwards. He was tired, and he was only going over old ground, familiar territory, with that line of thought. And it was getting him nowhere fast.

If wishes were fishes...


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The next morning, not unexpectedly, dawned bright and early, and along with it was one decidedly overly chipper blonde boy.

"Come on, Shinobu...you know you have to take your medicine. I know it tastes bad, but that means it has to be good for you, ne?"

Biting back an unfairly harsh reply, Shinobu burrowed deeper into his blankets until he was completely covered. Out of sight, out of mind...or something to that effect.

"Oi, you're not making this easy on me, you know. This hurts me more than it does you. It's not like - "

"Mitsuru, if you so much as utter another trite cliché, I will make sure you regret it."

"Shinobu, you're acting like a child! Just take your medicine like a man."

Hidden deep within the little caverns formed by his blankets, Shinobu's eyes narrowed dangerously. No one dared call Tezuka Shinobu a child and got away with it. Especially not someone who'd dared to wake him from a decidedly pleasant dream and then proceeded to spout hackneyed clichés at him in a non-stop stream. By all that was holy, Mitsuru was going to pay.

As soon as he could untangle himself from the damnable mess of twisted blankets wrapped around him like the grasping tentacles of an insane octopus.

"Shinobu...are you stuck?"

That's it, Ikeda. Laugh it up while you can.

"Mmmrphgh."

"Do you need help?" Mitsuru asked sweetly, "Because if you do, you know all you have to do is ask for help."

Shinobu went still at those words, his eyes widening a little. He knew he was hopelessly entangled in his blankets, but it galled him to have to admit to needing help. Call it a quirk, a hang-up, but the thought of actually asking someone else for help - even Mitsuru - made him feel...exposed? No. More like...vulnerable. And being vulnerable meant you could be hurt, and he didn't want that.

Unaware of his roommate's internal dilemma, Mitsuru shot an impatient glance at the desk clock. He had to be honest with himself - there was really only so much he could do.

"Fine. Have it your way, Shinobu. I have class in ten minutes and I don't want to be late, so I guess I'll see you later."

Placing Shinobu's cold medicine on the desk, he bent to pick up his book bag, and paused as he heard what sounded suspiciously like muttered cursing coming from the Shinobu-sized lump on the bottom bunk.

"I'll have Hasukawa check in on you later for me. I'll see you after classes, Shinobu."

It must have been the devil that put those words in his mouth, because Mitsuru knew it sure as hell wasn't him.

Shinobu's eyes widened at the thought of Hasukawa finding him helplessly tangled up in his bedding. He struggled wildly for a moment before subsiding as he realized he was well and truly ensnared in the blankets. His shoulders drooped and his eyes sagged shut.

"Help?"

The resigned, almost defeated tone in that one word tugged at Mitsuru's heartstrings like nothing else could. Moving over to the bed, He examined the snarl of blankets thoughtfully, violet eyes narrowed. Leaning down, he grabbed hold of the corner of a dark blue comforter and tugged. Discarding it to the side as it came free, Mitsuru carefully worked on the rest of the blankets until only one remained.

"There. That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He asked cheerfully, mindful of Shinobu's dinged pride.

"I thought you said you had class this morning?"

Mitsuru smiled and sat down on the bed next to Shinobu, who pulled the blanket down to level an annoyed glare at him.

"Oh that? Some things are more important, you know." Mitsuru said airily, shrugging casually.

"Now take your medicine like a good boy, or I'll tell Hasukawa what happened. You know he'd have a good laugh over that."

"You fight dirty."

Getting up to get the medicine, Mitsuru glanced over his shoulder and winked cheekily.

"What do you expect? I learned from the best."

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TBC...^_^