Gakuto's there again. Waiting at the bus stop.

It's the third day he's blown you off after school. You wouldn't think much of it… if he would actually get on the bus. But he doesn't. The buses stop. When they pull out into traffic again, he's still there.

You don't know where he's going, or even what bus he's waiting for. You're bothered, because usually Gakuto tells you about everything. Sometimes in painful detail. You know what colour socks he's wearing, how disgusting mouldy onigiri is for lunch, and the tragic lack of water pressure in the upstairs shower. But you don't know what he is waiting for.

You never considered Gakuto a mystery. He's open, straight forward, and sometimes just plain forward. But there he sits, knees drawn up to his chest, and all you can see are depths and shadows. This Gakuto has secrets from you.

You think you might go crazy if you can't know them.

The air turns frigid, blowing in from the ocean and bringing with it darkening cloud and the taste of rain. It's not even ten minutes before the drops begin to splatter the pavement, darkening its hue. Gakuto hunches down into his jersey and pulls the collar close to his neck. It frustrates you that he never dresses appropriately.

He's sensitive to the cold.

The bus kicks up water as it slows to a stop, blotting Gakuto from your sight. You watch for his scarlet head to walk down the aisle, but when the bus pulls away he's still there, head resting on folded arms.

You're sitting beside him before he even knows you're there. His eyes are closed, his body shivers when the wind blows. 'Gakuto?' you whisper resting a hand over his cold ones.

He says nothing.

You open your arms to catch him as he leans into you, resting his head against your neck, you feel the hot mix of breath and the cool slide of wet tears across your skin. His hands creep into the confines of your coat and wrap around your waist. Two more buses pass in the silence.

'Where are you going?' you murmur into his hair.

'Hospital,' he replies quietly. 'He wants to see me.'

You nod. 'Could've told me.'

'I wasn't sure…'

You look down at him. Eyes red, nose wet and cold. You kiss his scarlet head. You love him. 'You can tell me anything.'

He sighs and pushes in closer to you. 'I should've cut my hair, worn a suit, brought a gift or something… he hates me.'

You've never met Gakuto's father, but you don't like him. 'You should be yourself.'

'You think so?' he asks.

'I think your father should meet you… at least once.'

His lips are sweet and hot against yours, there's a desperation to his quivering breaths that compels you to crush his body to yours.

'Come with me,' he begs.

'Anywhere.'