Hope Springs Eternal

Spring reminds Miyagi of Shinobu.

The boy is a fresh warmth after the endless chill of winter, the eternal cold of his closed-off heart, and sometimes he finds himself jolted awake in the dead of the night, face soaked in perspiration and fresh tears after catching the whispers of his sensei in his dreams, only to watch helplessly as they swim right through his fingers, and he wonders in waking if the teardrops are simply the ice that's melted from his frozen heart; if maybe, hopefully, Shinobu's sudden, demanding arrival hasn't stolen away more of his masculinity than is completely necessary. Maybe he's just tired and overworked and maybe Kamijou has nights that he thinks of his giant lover and breaks down as well. That it's normal, everyday behavior for men in their position (but he notes, idly, that there really is nothing normal or everyday about Kamijou and his Godzilla of a boyfriend, but disregards it in order to preserve what fragile sanity his personal terrorist has left intact).

Tonight, however, when his breathing finally recedes to its normal pace and his pulse calms from its rampant drumming, he meets Shinobu's ashen eyes across the shadowy canvas of their newly-shared twin-sized bed (and he discovers, to his pleasant surprise, that no matter how smothering his young lover is in waking, he likes his space and never hogs the covers in sleep). The college freshman is usually out like a light and Miyagi can't recall a single instance in which his late-night awakenings have disturbed him, so for a moment longer, they simply stare at each other, neither quite sure what to say and neither quite willing to break the comfortable silence that has settled upon them.

But, as expected, it's Shinobu who speaks first.

"You're crying again."

He whispers, and Miyagi has barely a second to comprehend the word "again" before Shinobu is running trembling but gentle fingers over his heated cheeks, wiping away the wetness and hesitating before pulling back.

Miyagi knows for a fact that Shinobu has ruined everything, cracked and shattered all of the presumably unbreakable walls that he's spent his entire adult life crafting around himself. The boy is a terrorist in the very worst way: rash and forward and sly as they come. He's squirmed his way into the professor's tightly-compact heart and like a parasite, Miyagi's at a loss as to how to get rid of him.

But he also realizes that Shinobu has begun rebuilding everything he's broken. He's recreated the old man into something new and kind and beautiful, and he knows for a fact that he and Shinobu live more in symbiosis than anything, as he's positive that his heart wouldn't beat if the teen weren't so deeply embedded.

And he wonders if he was even really human before the first time he looked into the teen's stormy eyes, or if life were simply waiting for Shinobu's arrival to finally begin.

"I'm okay." He answers finally, voice husky as it grinds against the edges of his dry throat. "I'm just surprised, that's all."

He ghosts a clammy palm over the college student's shaking hand, noting his innocent nervousness with little more than the small, albeit affectionate upturning of his lips.

"Surprised?" Shinobu questions, voice small as a car alarm blares noisily somewhere in the distance.

Miyagi's gaze trails to the curtains that sway to and fro behind his lover, basking in the warm breeze that slips through their open window like the city sounds that Shinobu has grown so fond of recently. ("I've never slept in an urban area before, but if these are the sounds you're used to falling asleep to, I'll fall in love with them as well." The teen is either the biggest romantic in all of history, or the biggest idiot who ever lived…)

Miyagi clears his throat, nearly wincing at the sandpaper sensation before boring into Shinobu's bashful irises and drawing out as gently as possible,

"Of course, I thought I would awake to find a terrorist in my bed, but instead, I found an angel."

And Shinobu is instantly the most comely shade of scarlet and Miyagi imagines the laughter he'd surely receive if Kamijou were to hear what kind of love-struck jargon he can really come up with when in the right mood (but the assistant professor would really have no room to talk, with all the things Miyagi has overheard him whisper to his King Kong of a partner over the phone during their rare but treasured shared breaks).

The crimson of Shinobu's flush creeps straight from the neckline of his pajamas to the tips of his ears and he stutters, helplessly, "M-Miyagi?"

And Miyagi holds him, because he's always so easy to read, always so docile when he's happy, always and forever only thinking of Miyagi and never stopping to care for himself instead of doting on an old man day after day.

"Y-you're embarrassing." The younger man stumbles through his words, voice muffled as he holds tight to Miyagi's bare forearms and hides his face in the crook of the professor's shoulder and neck. "B-but o-of course I love you n-no matter what."

He wonders how many times he'll have to say "I love you" before his number rivals Shinobu's. He prides himself as a great literature professor, but he finds that his young lover proves himself to be far more eloquent time and time again.

He makes a mental note to admit his affections more often. Maybe someday he can shower the boy with so many 'I love you's that he won't know what to do with himself.

"And you claim that I say embarrassing things? I love you too, brat."

There's something akin to laughter emitting from Shinobu's hiding place at his shoulder and he takes a moment to appreciate the smell of his lover's hair and the smoothness of his skin.

Shinobu is warm and oh-so thin. With all the sports he takes part in, Miyagi wonders where he's hiding all that muscle.

"I love you." He whispers, breath hot against the older man's flesh, leaving tender, unintentional butterfly kisses every time he blinks his tired eyes.

"Goodnight, Shinobu."

And there is silence that is only filled by the soft sound of their breathing and the beating of their hearts, in sync.

Then, they sleep.

And Miyagi dreams only of Shinobu, and the perpetual Spring follows him everywhere he goes.

Fin.

So, the story that I was supposed to be working on was for the Romantica couple, but this struck me at about... ten-thirty this morning, during third period, and I knew the moment I jotted it down that I wouldn't be able to concentrate on much else until it was posted.

The Terrorist couple actually took the longest to grow on me (Egotist being the first paring that I totally fell in love with, then Romantica in a very, very close second, but now my favorite couple switches every time I write.. aha!), but Shinobu won my heart. He's just so determined in his love and he'll do anything if only Miyagi will give him the time of day… And he's cute as heck. I mean, I'd name my kid Shinobu. You'd name your kid Shinobu too, amirite?

Anywho, I wanted to write a more tender side of Miyagi, because I know there has to be one, and Shinobu deserves to see that side of him more than anyone else, really.

Well, thank you so much for taking the time to read and please don't hesitate to leave a review and let me know what you thought!