Hello and welcome to my first story for this fandom. It WAS going to be a oneshot, however I feel like the story would flow better if I had more chapters to go with it.
Also, I want to point out the setting in this story since I fell like people with grap about it to me. While this story is AU, the setting will NOT be in Japan. The setting is made up in some unknown world in my head. The point to this is because I am not Japanese and I do not know any of their customs. And, because the setting is not it Japan, I will not be using anything like oka-san or any honorifics. It doesn't feel right to me, so in this story there will be American influences.
If this turns you off from the story, ah well.
Warnings: Light boy's love later on and language.
It was very late at night, the moon high in the sky with dark-almost sightless clouds covering bits of the moonlight. The stars danced around the moon, with the occasional red and blue lights of an air plane joining them. Rikuo sprayed the once blank concrete wall with colors of orange and yellow; the empty or unneeded cans laid scattered at his feet. He took a brief pause to adjust his gas-mask, that just covered up to his nose and he wiped of f the cold sweat on his forehead. Despite the fact he had yet to be caught, the paranoia of it eventually happening has yet to disappear during the last four years. It was going to happen, Rikuo was sure of it.
Sighing lightly and shaking his head, Rikuo went back to his picture. He shook the can filled with black paint, before pressing on the small nob. Strong fumes poured out along with black as he moved his arm to paint on the wall. Luckily, Rikuo remembered to bring his gas-mask and his orange tinted goggles this time,so he could finish his painting. He forgot to bring it last night, and ended up leaving before completing because he ended up getting a headache while the fumes stung his eyes. Dropping the can, Rikuo bent at his knees and shuffled through his open duffel bag. He took out two cans before putting them back into his bag, still looking for his cans that were white and brown. When he found them, Rikuo straighten himself up; the can of brown paint in his right hand and the white his left, both uncapped. Shaking the brown paint can, he lightly sprayed over the black, before moving it under the yellow and orange, making sure it was a darker coat. Dropping that can, he moved the white paint can to his empty one. Also shaking that one, he sprayed lightly over the black, yellow, and orange; before putting a darker coat next to the spots he didn't color with the brown.
Taking a step back, Rikuo dropped that can and tucked a rubber gloved hand under his chin, being pleased with himself. All he need to finish was a bit of red, some blue and a dash of purple. Then, he could go home to get some sleep for school tomorrow. Just as he was about to bend down to get the colors he needed, light was on either side of him and his shadow on the wall.
"Freeze!" shouted the person shinning the flash-light to Rikuo's back. Said boy tensed a little, recognizing the voice. Instinctively, Rikuo put his hands up over his head and shuffled a little closer to his bag filled with spray-paint cans. He was glad for his baggy jacket, the hood concealing his easily recognizable hair and the big jacket deforming his upper-body shape.
"Don't move!" the person then commanded when they saw Rikuo move towards his bag. Hearing the scrapping of dirt,signaling that they were moving closer, Rikuo tensed again. Ignoring the command and going against his better judgment, Rikuo bent down and grabbed the straps of his back.
"I said don't-" they didn't have time to finish as many spray-paint cans were suddenly shot at them. The person put his arms in front of their face, a reaction to protect the face from any harm. "Ah, fuck...he got away" the person said when they put their arms down. A hand went through fair hair, grasping it slightly in exasperation while looking at the incomplete painting.
Puffs of hot breath appeared before Rikuo as he sprinted towards his home. He moved his gas-mask to hang around his neck, so it was easier to breathe while running and, his goggles laid up top his head so he could see easier. When he reached the apartment complex his mother and him lived at, he slowed down his pace and went to the side his window was located. Leaning against the wall, Rikuo gasped in much needed air before sliding down against the wall. Taking a glace at his bag, Rikuo held back a groan. It almost completely empty, save for three cans that didn't make it through the bag's opening. He would have to buy new cans tomorrow. Going back to the building now would be too risky, and for all he knew Kubinashi probably took the cans back as evidence.
Summoning the last bit of his strength, Rikuo slung the bag over his shoulder and climbed up tree in front of him. At the very edge of the strong branch, Rikuo jumped onto the balcony as silently as he could. He didn't want his mother waking up to see her good little boy sneaking back into the house. Sliding the glass door to close behind him, Rikuo tip-toed to his room which he left open by a crack. Sliding that door as well, Rikuo dropped his duffel bag onto his messy bed and grabbed a pair of pajamas from his drawer.
Again, he tip-toed to the bathroom and ran the water for his bath; Rikuo smelled like paint fumes and sweat. Slipping off his dark-blue jacket and his sleeveless black shirt underneath, Rikuo unbuckled his belt to his black jeans. For a moment, his eyes caught the rubber gloves. He looked at them fondly, taking in the colors he used tonight and felt a bit more at ease. Taking a deep breath, he slipped off the gloves before throwing them in the trash. Rikuo then finished undressing and took his bath before heading off to bed.
Rikuo woke to the sun shinning in his eyes and to the humming of his mother making them breakfast. Arms stretched over his head, he left out a big yawn before trudging his way into the kitchen where the smell of bacon and eggs hit his nose. He went over to the refrigerator to get himself a glass of orange juice before sitting at the table. "Morning mom," Rikuo said with traces of sleep still present in his voice.
His mother, Wakana, smiled at her son and bid him a good morning as well. Turing off the stove, she reached over to a close by cabinet and pulled out two big plates. As she was pouring the bacon and eggs evenly onto the plates, a sudden pop altered her attention. Taking out the butter from the refrigerator, she took a knife and smeared the yellow substance over the two pieces of toast. She sent one on each plate and made her way to the table, putting one plate in front of her son and one in front of her.
A comfortable silence fell over them as they ate their breakfast, which was interrupted with the occasional sip of orange juice or coffee respectively. Mornings in the apartment were usually like this, they would eat in silence because there was no need for awkward conversation. Their lives were very ordinary, besides Rikuo's late night spray-painting hobby. Wakana worked as secretary for a local company, while Rikuo was in his fourth year in high-school. His grades were average and he had a few close friends, one them having a strange obsession with conspiracy theories centering around a certain political family.
Hearing the clank of dishes hit together, Rikuo looked up from his plate and to his mother who had finished eating, and was getting up to put her dishes away. Chugging the last of her coffee, she put the mug into the sink with the plate and utensils. Grabbing her small purse from the counter, Wakana looked back to her son and gave him a happy smile. "Have a good day at school, Rikuo! And, don't forget you'll staying at your fathers this weekend so be sure to pack up." And then she was out the door and on her way to work.
Rikuo swallowed his eggs and sighed while placing his fork down, suddenly losing his appetite. Gathering his plate, knife and fork, he dumped the rest on the food into the trash before putting everything in the sink. He stared long and hard at the sink, not really thinking about anything while his mind started going black. Shaking his head, Rikuo headed towards his room to change into his uniform and packed his book bag with books, while his duffel bag was filled with clothing for the weekend. Just before heading out the apartment, Rikuo made sure that he brought enough money for more cans of spray-paint. As he was locking the door, Rikuo wondered how he was going to pull off getting out of his father's house late at night, with his father, brother and grandfather being so perceptive.