Homecoming
blitzkrieg boys drabble
what home means, to kai. drabblesque.
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For Kai coming home is walking right through the door and having Ian throw confetti into your face and somehow instead of feeling pissed, you can't explain the weird, tingy sensation that starts in the pit of your stomach—and you simply identify it as something warm, strangely fluff and cosy. And then catch a moment of breath before shoving Ian into the door and knowing how just that midget takes only three seconds to yell to Bryan that you're home in that whiny, "Fuck Bryan, Kai just fucking shoved me into the door!" In all Blitzkrieg Boys language, it translates very well to, "Fuck Bryan, Kai is home."
For Kai coming home is entering the kitchen, to see Spencer attempting to cook for the boys tonight again, only to mix sugar up with salt. So tonight for dinner instead of having proper pancakes, they have to indulge in salted ones. Part of coming home is that irky experience that Kai calls a 'rite of passage' for the Blitzkrieg Boys—that every single one of them has to go through under Spencer. That tolerance of his cooking is a test of endurance itself. Kai learns that coming home also equates to a few hours' preparation in time to have cell in hand, ready to dial the closest Moscow pizza delivery shop. It takes another hour before the Blitzkrieg Boys gather for a hell of a dinner at 10 o'clock (who the hell eats at that unearthly hour anyway? Blitzkrieg boys exclusive), and it's another thing entirely to have Bryan smack the fork into Ian's hair and initiating dinner with the usual trademark favorite phrase of his. "Tonight, Spartans, we dine in hell!"
For Kai coming home is putting up with movie marathons that last all night that sometimes can end in a mini world war three, except this war only happens in a tiny poor apartment that belongs to them in Russia, and that it only involves two person with the names of Bryan and Ian. Sometimes it starts with deciding to watch one movie, only to have Ian decide to watch another mid-way through, and that the rest is history. It is three a m in the morning before Spencer resolves all conflicts, plugs in the Playstation 3 console, and that's when Kai decides it is home only when Ian throws him the video game controller and tells them they're a team agains Spencer and Bryan.
For Kai coming home is grazing his fingers against the XOTRIANGLESQUARE buttons. But it is not the same as touching them back home in Tokyo in his Hiwatari manor, or on his own living in St. Petersburg. Nothing feels quite the same as having Ian yell "Victory!" into your ears so loud, you feel your ears ring in the next hour, nor Bryan actually breaking the controller into two because he always is the sore loser, and Spencer moaning and knowing he will have to be the one to buy another controller from the game shop tomorrow again.
For Kai coming home is knowing he can walk right through that door, expect all this shit from the Blitzkrieg Boys, casting a sideway glance at the red head captain silently fuming and cursing his luck (how in the world did he ever end up stuck with these three weirdo guys for like three-quarters of his life and forever more), and knowing he's not alone, never.
And the best part of coming home is that when Ian's mind goes haywire and he starts acting like a hyperactive gnat gone wrong because he's just had a cup of Monster Drink, he doesn't have to be the one to shake him upside down and get him off his caffeinated mode. And when Bryan makes a fuss on days when he doesn't get his newspapers and sugarless black coffee together, and that's when things get scary, Kai knows no matter how fiery the oldest of them gets, the house wouldn't burn up no matter what. And even on Sundays when even pizza delivery services apparently doesn't accept bribery and they have to ultimately eat Spencer's cooking, he can always count on that last minute support unit to actually drive up six miles into the city centre to get back McDonald's for them, even when it's past midnight and it's not even dinner time for some of them yet.
Because for Kai coming home is knowing Tala's always Captain—and that if there's anyone who can put things right when the house turns upside down, it's him. One fiery look, one snide, one caustic remark, and he can put any of the Blitzkrieg Boys in the right shoes. Not because he's only Captain, but because he's the one they respect and look up to, and much more. And because coming home is knowing just that his friend is there, and present, he can take a breather, kick off his shoes, lay back on the couch, and close his eyes for the first time in long, slow minutes, and knows he's at peace even when Ian and Bryan is at war in front of the gaming console, and Spencer's burnt pancakes are smelling from the kitchen.
At this time, nothing plays more like music, nothing smells more like the sedated snow falling outside the Russian sky.
For Kai coming home is walking right through that door a second time after departing for several long months, and knowing he's home simply because he doesn't even have to knock or announce his presence prior to reaching the apartment, to know he's already expected.
The red head yanks open the door, hands on hips, smirking. (Hiding a smile, evidently. As recorded in the 411-on-the-Blitzkrieg-Boys-gestures-dictionary). In the background, Kai hears Ian's whine, Bryan's roar, and Spencer's groan.
He folds his arms, and stares steadily at Tala, who locks his gaze.
Wordlessly they challenge each other to a gazing competition. They've been doing this childish thing since they were...seven.
Kai loses. He's the first to break it.
And coming home, for Kai, is having Ian rushing up to him and slamming into his crotch in that overbearing hug not out of love or pining for his big brotherly presence, but because he wants Kai to tag-team him on Street Fighter IV on the PS3 against Spencer and Bryan, henceforth the sentimental gesture, having none of the boys greeting him 'Welcome back' but instead beckoning him to the video gaming console.
Smell of the burnt pancakes. The comfort of a solid presence that is the red head Captain – the same one that reassures him no matter how crazy this house gets (can't get any crazier) – someone will always mother everything right again.
And for Kai, nothing beats looking at Tala, and receiving a nod in return, to know that those eyes speak volumes. Volumes that telepathically say Welcome home, Kai, not out loud, but enough, to produce that same, warm, tingly sensation in the pit of his stomach again.
Part of coming home, is encountering all this messed-up crazy mayhem in this house.
All of coming home, is casting a look in the living room and knowing just that favorite couch of his has been reserved all along for him.
For Kai, admist all this havoc, this is home.
fin.