Tumblr URL: scsakuras
Preferred Gift to Receive: Fanfiction
Themes Preferred to Receive: Romance/Fluff, Friendship/Fluff, Fluff, Family, Supernatural/Mystery, AU
Themes Unwilling to Receive: Crack Fic
Content you are uninterested in receiving: Rape, incest, pairings between adults and teenagers
Characters or content Preferred to Receive: Twins (platonic), Naru/Mai (platonic or romantic), Twins/Mai (platonic or romantic). Possible prompts: "I didn't expect to see you here" or "Secret"
Oliver ignored the knock on his door, but it opened anyway.
"Hey, Oliver?"
He ignored the voice too. He did not even give a sign he had heard the noise.
"Oliver?" She was louder this time.
She. That was interesting. He had expected his brother.
"Gene asked me to check on you. He had to go and cover for Masako at their club meeting, but… Well he said you were a bit out of sorts."
A bit out of sorts. That was one way to put it, he supposed.
He did not reply, of course. No. He continued to stare out of the window at the darkening sky. He wanted it to rain. That would complete the aesthetic.
"Look, I know you have this whole brooding genius thing going on, but that doesn't mean you have to be rude. If you're not up to talking, you could reply by nodding or something?"
He was not usually non-verbal like this. But it was nice that she was trying to be accommodating. Without looking around, he nodded his head a fraction. It was enough; she caught it. He could tell because he heard her sigh of relief. Was she that worried?
Or was she just that tired of his bullshit?
It was hard to tell the difference some of the time. No. Who was he kidding? Most of the time. It was hard to tell the difference most of the time. Other people could do it. But he could not.
"Do you want to talk about it? Whatever is bothering you, that is?"
Did he want to talk about it? He both did and did not want to talk about it. Talking, on the one hand, might clear his thoughts. But on the other…
"I don't have anything better to be doing," she went on. "Honestly, it's talking to you or watching the rest of that K-drama I started. And that can wait if you need me. You're more important."
That sounded like one of those polite lies to Oliver. A thing a person would say to sound like they cared when in reality they just wanted to sound like a good person. It was what she was supposed to say.
But this was Mai.
He wanted to believe so hard that she really cared. His heart ached at the very idea. And yet…
He shook his head.
"Are you sure?"
Was this genuine concern?
Again, it was so hard to tell. But surely if she had wanted to escape him and the social obligation, she would have taken the shaking of his head as an excuse to do so. She had not left.
He opened his mouth but no sound escaped. Why was it so hard to speak? All he had to do was push the air from his lungs and make his vocal cords vibrate. But his lungs would not work. He was still breathing. Yes. He was not suffering from a lack of oxygen. Yet he could not speak.
"Oliver?"
She stepped closer. Despite her footsteps being muffled by the carpet, Oliver could hear the sound as if she had stomped. He tried again and two syllables burst from his mouth.
"Bro-ken."
"What?"
He did not need to look around to know what her facial expression would be. Her brows would be furrowed and her lips pouting in confusion. He could picture it in his mind's eye.
"What's broken?" she asked.
"I am…"
His voice was barely more than a whisper. But he had managed it. He had spoken. It would get easier now. He knew that from experience. To his surprise, she laughed.
"Is this because you have to wear glasses now?" She laughed again. "Your mum is right you know, you shouldn't have spent so long staring at screens. I didn't realise it had upset you so much. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed."
"No."
"No? Not the glasses?"
Not the glasses. They were a nuisance. He did not like the way they sat on his face. He did not like the way they dug into the side of his head when he rested against things. He did not like that his eyes did not work properly without them.
But they were not the problem.
They had stopped his headaches, after all.
"Because they look good on you, you know? You look cute in them."
"Cuter than Gene?" he croaked in a poor attempt at humour.
Why did his voice have to sound so ridiculous now?
"Y-yeah. Even cuter than Gene."
Had he been in a better mood, he would have been interested to know that Mai had been blushing as she said this.
"Gene is not broken though…"
"What do you mean by that? Why do you think you're broken?"
"Gene feels the right things. I don't."
"What do you mean?"
What did he mean? How did he put into words this feeling in his chest? He opened his mouth again and began to speak, unsure why the words that escaped seemed relevant but he carried on regardless.
"Gene came out to everyone at the high school talent show. He leant piano just to sing that Bo Burnham song. It was highly entertaining. He is a performer." Oliver swallowed. "He did not have to explain what being gay meant. He did not have to… People either rejected him or accepted him but there was no question about him being gay…"
"Okay…?"
Oliver ignored the tentative quiver in Mai's voice and ventured on.
"I cannot do that. If I told an average person that… They…" The words fought back, determined to remain in his chest. Oliver scowled and did not let them win. "No one would tell him that being gay was not a real thing."
"Oh… Is this about you being asexual?"
Oliver nodded.
"I thought you were okay with it?"
Oliver heard the sound of his bedsprings depress. Mai must have taken a seat. He did not look around to check. He did not want to see her face in case she was disappointed or fed up. In case she thought he was just causing a fuss about his 'imaginary sexuality'...
"I… I thought I was."
"What's changed?"
"The novelty of finally understanding what I was has worn off." He sighed. "Once again, I am different. I am an 'other'. It is like finding out I am autistic all over again. At first, it was a relief to finally understand. But after…" He swallowed. "I know some people say I am lucky because I can pass for heterosexual but how is that in any way fortunate? I hear people constantly misunderstand my sexuality. The effort that it would take to correct every person that asexual people are not plants or not all sex repulsed is just…"
As he had spoken, his anger had presented itself in the clear enunciation of his voice. His shoulders hunching ready for a fight and his fists balled up. As he ran out of words, his shoulders sagged.
"This has really got to you, huh…"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry that people suck."
"It is not your fault."
"What brought this up?" Mai asked. "Has someone in particular been a pain?"
Oliver shrugged and shook his head.
"Do you want a cup of tea? Gene said you haven't eaten dinner either. I can get you something if you want?"
Oliver could not reply to this. He did not want sustenance. He wanted to cry and scream. But nothing of this emotion would come out. His chest had trapped the emotion and refused to let it free.
A choked chuckle escaped his mouth.
Mai would freak if out if he cried.
"What's it like?" he asked.
"What's what like?"
"Sexual attraction; what does it feel like?"
"Uhh…" Mai faltered.
Oliver finally turned around in his seat. He did not directly face her. He watched her out of the corner his eye as she attempted to find her own words.
"Like… Like if you walked into the kitchen, and someone had made a really big gooey chocolate cake and you see it and you're like 'yes I want a piece of that'."
"Like a piece of chocolate cake," Oliver repeated, sceptical.
"It's hard to explain. That maybe wasn't the best analogy… If I think of a better one, I'll let you know."
"Hmm. I am not that fussed about chocolate cake either."
"Maybe a really nice cup of tea then?"
Mai twisted her hands in her lap.
"Do you feel it a lot?" Oliver asked.
"Sexual attraction? Uhh… Sort of? But not? Going back to the food analogy—"
"The one we agreed was bad?"
"Yeah, I have nothing better," Mai went on. "It's like, you see an egg custard tart and you're like, nah not really into that. There are a lot of egg custard tarts… Then you might see a cookie and be like, hmm, maybe. There are usually a few cookies—"
"And then you see the chocolate cake and you want to jump its bones?"
Mai's cheeked flushed scarlet.
"You've been hanging out with Yasuhara too much," she muttered.
Oliver smirked. Mai smiled.
"If I made you food, would you eat it?"
"I think I have been enough of an imposition tonight," Oliver said.
"You're grieving, Oliver. You're allowed to be sad about this stuff."
"Allowed?"
"Yeah. You're human. You're allowed to be sad."
"Can I record you saying that?" Oliver asked. "I am sure you used to insist I was a robot."
"Okay that was mainly Masako," Mai protested. "And she had a point because for like the first month we all lived together we never saw you eat or anything."
"I perhaps do not have the healthiest of eating habits."
"Perhaps?"
Oliver looked away.
"Do you want to vent some more? Or would you like some food then?"
"You're going to nag me until I eat, aren't you?"
"Yup," Mai replied, beaming. "I'll do the cooking and stuff. I can call you down when it's ready?"
Oliver pulled his knees up so that his feet rested on the edge of his chair. He rested his chin on his knees and hugged his legs close to his chest as Mai's words filtered through his brain.
"I think you are correct."
"What?"
"About grieving… I felt like this after receiving my autism diagnosis. It must have been grief then too. Grieving not being neurotypical. Now I am grieving not being allosexual. I will never be those things. Must I grieve every way in which I am different?"
Mai bit her lip.
"I don't think so, just the things that have affected you the most. I mean, it kind of makes sense for you to be upset. If you grow up and hear everyone feeling these things that you just never get then, that's gotta be confusing, even for someone as intelligent as you."
"I am only intelligent when it comes to science and mathematics. When it comes to people and feelings—
"You're as lost as a needle in a haystack," Mai finished for him.
"Actually, I am quite adept at finding things. Many autistic people see the needle before they see the haystack."
Mai laughed.
"Okay, perhaps not the best analogy. I'm going to go and start cooking. Do you want anything in particular? Because if not, you're getting pasta."
"Pasta will do just fine. I will join you downstairs in a few."
Mai sent him one last parting smile, then left. Oliver twisted his chair back to face the window. It was completely pitch black outside now.
He mulled over the conversation they had just had. He strongly suspected that he would be troubled by more emotions on this subject at some point in the future. But Mai was quite correct. It was grief. And grief took time to overcome.
He had friends.
More importantly, he had friends that supported and cared for him.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to his feet. He planned to go down to the kitchen and tease Mai while she cooked. Because his pain had not dissipated just yet, but her laughter would blind him to it for a little while. A little light relief sounded pleasant.
With a shadow of a smile, Oliver left his room.
Author's note: I know we all like to pretend Oliver doesn't have feelings and everything. But I think he does. I think he feels a lot and just can't deal with it. This piece really hit a note with me so... Be nice in your review?
Also! It's the Ghost Hunt HQ Exchange Weekend, so check out the Tumblr because a lot more pieces are going to be shared and I'd hate for you to miss them all!