The Abandoned Child

oOo

When he finally decided to step into the scene, a teacher already had the situation under some semblance of control; a man with dirty blond hair and a black eye was being escorted away, undoubtedly for medical attention, and a much younger-looking boy fumed under the reprimand he was receiving.

'…there is surely no reason for us to allow you access here if as an outsider, you choose to assault one of our students, no matter what the reason.' As the shorter—and older—of the two turned away with a disapproving humph, Hiroki saw that it wasn't a teacher at all: it was Miyagi Yoh, one of the few literature majors who had pursued the subject all the way into post-graduation. Rumor had it that he planned to get into teaching, and in spite of his notoriously clingy ways, Hiroki held a grudging sort of respect for the man.

Good bluffing, he thought, knowing full well that students had no say in who was allowed on campus. So who was that kid?

Hiroki tried not to feel any curiosity as he continued on his way to the library. The boy had looked no older than eighteen, if that; the man he'd evidently punched seemed much older. And though he hadn't gotten a good look at either of their faces, the youth—who had the darkest hair he'd ever seen, darker than Miyagi's—had seemed righteously angry and not the least repentant.

What was it the other man had said?—'Kusama's an abandoned child!'

Who's Kusama?

He almost believed his shrug as he opened the door to the library. He knew had better things to do than wonder about a no doubt delinquent brat; unconcerned with the rest of the world as he usually was, his curiosity surprised him. It's no business of mine. The last thing he wanted, he thought, was to end up like one of those nosy classmates of his that he tried so hard to avoid.

Indeed, I probably have only one classmate whom I don't avoid.

Said person, however, was never quite as eager to see him.

He realized with a start that Akihiko was sitting right there, several tables away with his back to Hiroki and his face to a window, but there nonetheless. Their free classes coincided so rarely that it took quite some effort for him to stay where he was and not go over.

The decision was instinctive, but not arbitrary. It had been a while since Hiroki had concluded that, no matter what his feelings, Akihiko and he were growing apart by the day. It had been so ever since they left their childhood homes for university; ever since, in fact, Akihiko had first told him of his classmate and new friend, Takahiro. By the time the young author had come to terms with his feelings for the man four years ago, Hiroki had been devastated but not surprised. If not from any logical process, then a simple lack of faith in his own luck had warned him of something similar from the beginning.

I think I always knew something like that would happen.

A familiar swell of wretchedness broke over him. I always knew, didn't I, that it would be hopeless to love him? He had known…he knew now the futility of hoping, of even waiting like this, and yet…his eyes remained, with the grim hunger of a homeless man, on the back of the silver head for the next forty minutes.

Akihiko did not turn around.

oOo

The dark-haired boy had been forgotten by the time Hiroki exited T University later that day, and it was with some surprise that he recognized the figure standing next to the main gate. No longer disheveled, but still looking thoroughly unhappy, he seemed a lot taller now than he had in the morning.

Hiroki's feet had carried him in a full circle and towards the boy before he knew what he was doing.

What am I doing here?

The thought flew past his mind, all but unnoticed; as he approached, he noted with considerable annoyance that the boy was at least a couple of inches taller than him. Damn overgrown brat. Unsure of himself, furious at his upset equilibrium, as soon as he was within earshot he began with a rough, 'Oi.'

The boy, who had been gazing into space, now turned obligingly towards Hiroki. 'How may I help you?' he asked, voice disinterested but gentle.

He had startlingly blue eyes that were currently mild with inquiry. Hiroki felt his uncertainty multiply tenfold. Really, what am I doing here? 'Ano…' he struggled not to trail off into mumbles, and said a bit too loudly, 'nice to meet you, I'm Kamijou Hiroki.'

'All right…' the boy looked at him more curiously now, intending him to continue. A blush fanned out on the literature student's face as he realized how idiotic he must seem; nonetheless, the urge to know was stronger than the urge to just apologize and run away. He cleared his throat and said, words tumbling over each other, 'Um—I was passing by when you—I mean, in the University—this morning?'

'You want to know why I punched that man.' It wasn't a question. 'Because I was angry, and I felt like he deserved it.' A brief pause, as though to consider. 'I still do.'

'Umm', said Hiroki, now fully aware of the boy's reluctance, somewhat mortified, and still burningly curious. 'Well—as a student of the University, I demand to know the reason!' His blush grew warmer under the impassive scrutiny of those eyes. He had never seen anything quite so blue.

A wan, tired smile broke out on the boy's face. 'As someone who won't be returning to the University any time soon, I must respectfully refuse to answer. It's just today that I'm here.' He gave a polite nod and turned away. 'In fact, I think I'll be leaving now. If you'll just excuse me.'

He had not gone two steps when Hiroki grabbed his upper arm and held him back, heart pounding in his ears; as the unmistakably handsome features registered surprise and irritation, the smaller man asked tentatively, 'W-why weren't you at your own school then, instead of a university you don't attend?'

What am I doing?

To his astonishment, something softened in the exhausted, glittery blue eyes as the boy replied, 'because I haven't been to school since I was fourteen.' Whether it was fatigue or a sense of giving up, Hiroki did not know, but he felt the arm leave his shock-limp grasp with unexpected reluctance.

'I'm Kusama Nowaki', added the boy, with another sweet, somewhat forlorn smile. 'Nice to meet you too, though I don't suppose it'll happen again.'

'Kusama's an abandoned child!'

Hiroki nodded helplessly, and a part of him wondered at the strangeness in his heart when Kusama Nowaki began walking away; he turned around and released a breath of some inexplicable emotion as, without his knowing, the dark-haired boy with deep blue eyes looked back for what he thought would be one last glimpse of him.

He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be waiting for Akihiko.

oOo

[A/N] I do know where this is going, but I can promise y'all that this is not going to be updated with the same breakneck speed that 'Shoudou' (my Junjou Minimum and onward from Akihiko's POV) is/was…maybe a chapter every three days or so, though I don't think it should take longer than that. The plot's kinda…hazy in my head, even if I'm not really in a fog or anything. I've just realized that writing AU is OMFG t i r i n g, and I'm still practicing Egoist as well so I've got a bit of a headache now. Anyway…if you wanna know what happens next, do review.

(The rest of the chapters are going to be longer than this. For some reason it's always my first chapter that's the shortest.)

And oi, all you Shoudou readers, I mean it when I say that I'm perfectly capable of keeping you people from the blindfold scene if you don't review. It ain't blackmail; without reviews I get the impression that you simply aren't bothered. Don't see why I should be updating at all then.