AN: I don't know what this is, but I like it…lots of ooc, devoid-ness of emotions, loneliness, and angst things. Type "clicker clacker" into Google images and you should see what the toy is. I once had a toy similar to this; truly it was the most annoying thing ever invented (along with those weird hard to use clackers with the balls on the end, never could get my coordination right). Please enjoy.
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"Toys"
by flying metal child
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Click, click, click.
Click.
Click.
Click, click.
Click-click-click-click-click-click...
Rikuo was going to—
Click!
"Kazahaya!" Kazahaya looked up very innocently at the boy who had just yelled out his name. He made a small smile as if nothing important was happening. Rikuo sighed to let out the frustration of hearing "click" over and over and over.
Kazahaya replied with, "What?" Rikuo rolled his eyes.
"That thing is annoying. Cut it out."
"Wha—it's not annoying! It's my clicker-clacker!" Kazahaya watched the fine muscles around Rikuo's dark eyes twitch.
"Clicker-clacker?"
"Yeah, that's what the lady called it. Isn't it neat?"
The so-called "neat" thing in question, the clicker-clacker, was nothing more than a little alligator shaped metal toy that could be whipped up and down to make its cute hinged mouth open and close. It smacked its lips with a "click" then a "clack." It spoke with a "click-clack-click." Kazahaya loved the sound. Rikuo thought it was loud and grating; it was the sound of thin metal popping and banging rapidly at the whim of Kazahaya's hand.
The stupid toy might have remained in the novelty shop had Kakei made them work an extra shift, but it was a fine Saturday in May so he let them off. Neither of them had taken a day off in at least a month, and Saiga became the victim as a last minute cashier replacement.
Kazahaya honestly thought his clicker-clacker was the best thing ever.
"This is the best thing ever!" he had said, actually.
Thus, being the best thing ever, Kazahaya had click-clacked his heart out for the entire twenty minute walk from the market district back to the drugstore. In between was a quick visit to a café and some fleeting moments in the nearby park. Kazahaya managed to click-clack his toy as he swung his swing high into the air. Rikuo watched him dully as he listened to the click-clack noise caught in the rushing wind of the swing. When the noise was lost in the air, Rikuo focused on Kazahaya going up and down, happily letting gravity have him for a little while. His dark-gold hair glittered in the just-setting sun. Rikuo turned away then and pushed himself up by digging his shoes into the gravel. He pivoted his feet in the little stones; he never left the ground.
He heard the click-clack again. He never told Kazahaya to stop. And now that their outing was at an end, Rikuo wondered why he had waited so long to say it. Kazahaya ignored Rikuo's order to stop. He occasionally clicked the alligator up and down as if his hand were so accustomed to the movement that he was doing it unconsciously. Rikuo clenched his fist to keep his hand from grabbing the monstrosity and chucking it into the street where hopefully, God willing, a car would run over it.
But, he wouldn't do that. Not to Kazahaya. He seemed so enamored by the toy that Rikuo had to wonder if Kazahaya had ever owned a toy in his entire life. After all, one could imagine such a thing from a person who had no idea what uncooked rice looked like. Rikuo knew that Kazahaya had lived a very sheltered life with his sister Kei. Perhaps the dream-like world they once lived in only had room for the two of them.
It was them and the still unknown pain that forced them apart.
Rikuo doubted Kazahaya thought any of this, for had the most pleasant smile on his pretty face. Any thoughts he had stayed in his mind. On a normal day, Rikuo would be the victim of random stories and questions, but today, Kazahaya's mouth was satisfied being shut.
It suited him well.
Rikuo caught himself tracing the soft curves of Kazahaya's lips with his eyes. He huffed in annoyance. Kazahaya was clacking again.
--
The toy alligator sat on the kitchen table and watched Rikuo and Kazahaya eat dinner. Kazahaya stretched after he finished his meal and announced that he was taking a shower. The alligator watched his friend leave. He was lonely. Rikuo looked at him angrily as he chewed the last bit of food in his mouth.
"I really hate you," Rikuo told him.
--
When Kazahaya got out of the shower, he went to his bedside dresser to grab a pair of socks. There on his pillow was his toy. Perched like a faithful pet, he waited for Kazahaya to return and put life into his inanimate body. He existed for Kazahaya.
"Hey," Kazahaya whispered. He held the toy in his hand. "How did you get here?"
"It was staring at me." Kazahaya turned at the dark voice behind him.
"It's just a toy, Rikuo." Kazahaya gave the toy a quick click as he sat on his bed. Rikuo looked down, not really knowing why he was standing there. Kazahaya squinted his eyes questioningly, waiting for Rikuo to—
His legs suddenly gave way, his lips connected with Kazahaya's in a crushing kiss. Kazahaya's mouth parted and let in a hot tongue. His fingers failed him and the toy in his hand slipped and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Rikuo held Kazahaya's face up, trapped his cheeks between his fingers, raped the little mouth before it could say yes or no or maybe, but then it was too late; Rikuo realized what he had done. He slipped his tongue back into his mouth but kept their lips connected.
Kazahaya swallowed thickly. His face was hot with embarrassment.
The sweet taste in Rikuo's mouth became bitter and he pulled away. He sucked in some air to get his brain working again, but it was futile and stupid and he found himself walking away without saying a word to his friend.
His friend.
Kazahaya never closed his mouth. He stood; one foot connected with the floor and the other landed on his toy. The hinged mouth crushed.
"Oh," was all Kazahaya could say. He picked up the toy and fumbled with its dead metal body.
His poor alligator, his poor, poor little toy.
--
It was a rare day when absolute silence filled the store. Maybe it didn't count because it was ten at night and Rikuo was alone. He gripped the wooden handle of the broom in his hand. He turned his ear to the smallest of sounds. The hum of electricity, cars passing outside, and the occasional creak of the building's foundation as it settled into a slow, slow decay.
The silence was too heavy. He started sweeping again.
Swish. Swish. Swish. He had complete control over this noise. Swish. Swish. Swish.
He stopped. Silence again, and then the sound of the broom scraping against the floor.
"Rikuo?" The broom almost flew out of his hand.
"It's—we didn't have to work today. Why are you sweeping? It's late."
Rikuo shrugged. "I wanted to get out of the apartment." I wanted to get away from you.
"Oh." Kazahaya wanted to leave but his feet wouldn't move. "I didn't know where you were. You should tell me if you're going to disappear like that."
Rikuo's voice sounded harsher than he meant. "Yeah, sorry." Sorry, I had to get away from you.
"I broke my toy. I stepped on it." Kazahaya laughed a small laugh. The sound of his own sarcastic laugh released his feet from the floor.
"I'm going back okay?"
"Yeah...I'll be right there."
--
Kazahaya was asleep. Rikuo had been asleep.
Kazahaya never said anything about the kiss.
It kept Rikuo awake for hours.
The broken alligator judged him. It was on the kitchen table. Rikuo studied it.
"I was just getting some water," he told it. "It's not my fault anyway."
end.