Title: Uneasy Coexistence
Description: In which the sexually repressed gay boy falls in love with his overly heterosexual roommate. They say you find yourself in college.
Paring(s): Touya Akira / Shindou Hikaru
Comment notes: Ichigo1010; BrokenPsychopath; LittleNK; Alteegry; Hispanic Tenshi; "asdf"; & "Ti-Ti"; thank you all for the kind reviews. Food for the writer's soul.
Author's Notes: I just finished reading Hikaru no Go. God, it's so good. I swear that manga is secretly yaoi.
*The "ear-reddening" move originated from a game between Honinbo Shusaku and Inoue Genan Inseki. Shusaku was a young player at the time he challenged Genan to a game; while everyone in the room thought Genan was winning, a doctor noticed after a certain move in the game Genan's ears became red with frustration. Shusaku won, and it became one of his most famous.
**Kubikajiri; in Japanese mythology a ghost that lost its head and wanders graveyards eating the heads of others, both living and dead.
Chapter Two
My Lady Friend is Weeping for Me
Touya Akira was not an evil man. He was not cruel, and he had never particularly taken joy in someone else's misery. Such pettiness he considered himself beyond; which was why the day Shindou Hikaru (his roommate, classmate, and main antagonist in life) walked into Go class twenty minutes late with pink skin and cherry bangs was a very surprising day for Akira. Not because he hadn't known, he'd done it; simply because the teen had never been so satisfied to see a person look so embarrassed.
"Shindou…kun?"
The entire class looked up. Today they had been studying ancient Go techniques; each student was balanced delicately atop a pillow, listening attentively as their sensei read aloud from a large textbook cradled in his palm. Fujiwara Sai, master Go player, sputtered in surprise for a moment after Hikaru slid the metallic gray door to the classroom open and stepped inside. "Um, Shindou." The teacher clarified, blinking a few times, "You're… late."
Nice cover, Akira thought, suppressing the urge to laugh hysterically. Growing up, he had never thought he would be so vengeful.
"Yes, Fujiwara-sensei," Hikaru said, pink cheeks reddening. "I was, uh, showering…"
Akira snickered, earning a sharp look from some of the girls in his class that had taken a liking to Hikaru. It was simply too perfect, he couldn't resist. Fujiwara pinned the dark haired teen with a stare, and then flipped a long strand of purple-tinted hair over his shoulder and indicated to an empty cushion towards the middle of the room. "No need to explain, Shindou. Take your seat. We're reading about Honinbo Shusaku."
Maneuvering through the room, Hikaru chose an empty spot directly behind Akira. The smaller teen's neck prickled; he tensed, wondering if his roommate was already planning to engage in the 'war' he had promised that very morning.
Nothing happened.
Akira zoned in and out of his morning's lesson, more concerned with the malevolent force at attention right behind him. The teen didn't know what to expect with Hikaru at such an advantage point. Gum in the hair? Spitballs? He grimaced, glancing slyly over his shoulder at the blond-fringed boy behind him and finding the larger male following studiously along in his textbook. Fffff, Akira thought, wetting his lips and turning back towards the front of the room, this is bad. He already knew everything there was to know about Shusaku; what he wanted to know was what Hikaru was planning. There was no way his roommate would pass up Akira being helpless. He'd dyed him pink after all!
From the front of the room Fujiwara Sai's voice echoed softly, "Shusaku met Genan Inseki in July 1846 when he returned to Edo after staying in Onomichi for eighteen months. Shusaku was 17 years old and a 4-dan player at the time…" Akira perked up, listening to a familiar story about an epic game from Shusaku he had once studied. Would Hikaru pull an 'ear-reddening'* move on him?
Again Akira's eyes ebbed over his shoulder, this time catching Hikaru staring right at the back of his head. Amber orbs slid over his face like butter, and Akira turned around so abruptly he felt the muscles in his neck protest. He was feeling sick now - sick with twisted anticipation. The waiting was killing him. Make your move!... he wanted to scream, simply so it could be over with.
Still, nothing happened.
Taking a shuddering breath, Akira wondered if things were safe. He tried to relax, but still every iota of his attention focused on the boy behind him. He strained to listen, hearing the slight rustle of fabric behind him. Akira swung around, staring with wide eyes at Hikaru.
"…What?" the teen in question asked, looking perturbed. He had been reading along in the textbook.
Akira flushed, turning around sharply. "Nothing."
If Akira had been looking, he would have seen Hikaru grinning menacingly behind him. As it was, the smaller of the two had finally somewhat convinced himself he was safe; he followed along as they read about Shusaku's rise to 7-Dan, still harshly aware of Hikaru in the back of his mind. All this fretting was making Akira's head hurt; he lowered his eyes, pressing the pads of his fingers into them and sighing. He stayed like that, massaging his tear ducts with his eyes closed.
Thump
Something collided with the back of Akira's skull. The boy's eyes shot open; he yelped, arms flying up to wave around his head. Surely this was Hikaru's attack? The hairs on his neck prickled as the teen fell to the side off of his cushion, heart pounding wildly from the rush of adrenalin. He hit the floor, twisting his body around to stare in shock at Hikaru.
What he saw was not Hikaru, but a pair of feet connected to one Fujiwara Sai. "S..Sensei?" Akira sputtered, looking up at his teacher's face in surprise. Fujiwara was laughing, holding his characteristic fan out in mid-air. So that's what hit him…
Akira turned red, suddenly wanting to disappear. The entire class was laughing; the teen shimmied back into his spot and watched the front of the room with hard eyes. "Daydreaming, Touya-san?" Fujiwara asked, tucking his fan into the long sleeves of his Heian-period styled robes. Akira grimaced, displeased that this gaudy person had managed to scare him so badly his heart was still pounding. "Pay attention," the long-haired man clarified; Akira felt the warmth at his back disappear as his sensei stepped away and returned to reading.
Nothing else happened until free-study. Akira remained shaken, sitting still even as the rest of his class began pulling out gobans and challenging each other to games. The boy clamped his hands on his knees, staring at the floor in front of him. He felt the warmth of another person approaching him, and did not have to look up to know Hikaru was crouching in front of him. "Touya-san…" the larger teen spoke rougher than he usually did in public, "let's play a game."
Akira scoffed, looking up. He jerked back, surprised at how close Hikaru was to his face. "Didn't I already tell you I never wanted to play a game with you?" he questioned, struggling to stand up.
"You have to play me," the other boy protested, standing with him. "You dyed me pink!"
Tucking a strand of blue-hued hair behind his ear, Akira glanced over the room in search of Tsutsui. "And I don't feel bad about it at all," he said, moving to step away once he caught sight of his friend setting up a board alone. A hand on his wrist stopped him; Akira turned around sharply and ripped his hand away from Hikaru's. "Don't-" he started, but the other teen interrupted him.
"Play me," he insisted, growling. "If you win I won't try to get you back for dying me pink. You can relax and not freak the fuck out every time someone even brushes you…" Hikaru looked thoughtful for a moment, "I'm actually kind of honored you find me so intimidating."
"Don't be," Akira said automatically. He didn't want to, but he was considering his roommate's proposal. "And if you win?" he asked, leaning back and putting his weight on his left leg.
Hikaru hesitated, before smiling. "Then you have to do one thing for me. Whatever I say. And after you do it I'll consider us even."
"Only one thing…" Akira repeated, glancing over to Tsutsui. The dark-haired boy was staring at him, obviously waiting for their usual game. One second, Akira mouthed to him, before turning to Hikaru and nodding. "As long as I don't have to do sexual favors."
Laughing, Hikaru nudged the smaller boy. "I thought you'd like that," he murmured, one brow raised suggestively.
"Definitely not!"
Hikaru led Akira away from his seat, stopping in front of an empty goban he had already set up and looking expectantly at the teen. Akira slid smoothly onto his knees across from his roommate, watching with a rocky expression as he too sat. "Nigiri," Akira breathed, dipping his hand into a small vat of white stones and dumping them on the goban. Hikaru followed suit, setting two black stones on the board and regarding the opponent with stony eyes.
Now that they were perched for battle, Akira felt the beginnings of panic. Something about Hikaru scared him; in the way he moved and his engulfing size. He'd never played the teen before, but he'd heard from many friends that the blond-fringed boy was more than adequate with the stones. The teen took a deep breath, counting the white stones that littered the board. Two, four, six… damn, he gets black. Hikaru seemed to realize the same thing; he smiled roughly, scooping his stones back into the bowl and locking eyes with Akira.
"Please," they said simultaneously, feeling friction in the air.
Hikaru began the first hand, immediately placing a black stone on the upper right kosumi. It resonated through the room with a pa-chi, sending a shiver down Akira's spine. The smaller boy retaliated quickly, placing his own stone softly across the board.
Pa-chi
Next Hikaru positioned a stone at the lower right kosumi, a move Akira had expected and countered quickly, placing his hand nearby to surround his roommate. Pa-chi pa-chi. The game began to heat up; Hikaru moved next to the 15-16 kosumi in an attempt to block Akira. Raising to the challenge the smaller of the two attacked, placing his stone at the 14-16 kosumi and staring up with fire in his eyes.
Pa-chi
Pa-chi
Pa-chi
The game sprang on, with Hikaru attacking mercilessly while Akira barely hung on to a weakly planned defense. He had made a mistake, moving too early in the beginning and misreading the board. Winning seemed to be an unreachable goal, but the teen was too stubborn to resign. "Still going?" Hikaru teased, shattering the line of Akira's defense again and taking five komi.
Akira reached into his stones, stopping midway with a shaking hand. "I.." he started, dropping the stone back into the bowl. The boy gripped his knees tightly, lowering his eyes and swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat, "I have nothing."
"You underestimated me," Hikaru whispered, standing up and bowing slightly. "See you back at the dorm."
Fearful anticipation wound its way up Akira's spine.
Touya Akira stood in front of one Shindou Hikaru in complete and utter shock. The larger boy hovered in the middle of their dorm, holding up what Akira thought to be one of the most embarrassing articles of clothing he'd ever seen. A dress. Not just a dress, but a short white sundress decorated with black frills and a large, soft looking bow. Dark silky cloth wrapped around the waist of the ensemble, with soft flowering patterns flowing up from its hem. It was so girly he wanted to choke.
"Are you kidding?" Akira asked, standing paralyzed in the doorway.
Hikaru laughed, and he sounded evil as he did so. "You agreed to do whatever I said. I'm saying put on this dress and clean our dorm; like a good little woman," he paused, grinning, "You already have the hair for it."
Sputtering, Akira stepped into the room and glared at Hikaru. "Asshole," he enunciated roughly, snatching the dress from his roommate's hands and starting towards the bathroom. At some point during the day Hikaru had found the time to come back to the dorm; it looked as if he'd thrown a massive party, with books ripped from their shelves and empty bottles littering the floor. There was trash everywhere, and Akira had to step over large chunks of it to get to the bathroom door.
"Hey," the larger boy called, "You forgot something."
Akira turned around, pinning his friend with a dark glance. Hikaru held up a pair of beige leggings and dark pumps, smiling from ear to ear. "Real ladies don't show too much skin."
"Why do you even have this crap?" Akira yelled, hardly able to believe the situation he was in.
"I'm in the drama club," the larger male explained, tossing the heels and leggings across the small dorm to Akira. He caught them lightly, shaking his head and disappearing into the bathroom.
He stepped out a few minutes later, vest and dress pants shed and in their place the soft ashen gown he'd received. Hikaru was sitting on the couch, and the moment he caught sight of Akira he burst out laughing. Appreciatively, he clapped, "Such a lovely little lady!" The blond-fringed boy was off his seat in a heartbeat, crossing the room and examining his torture victim up close.
Akira looked good. The dress would be too tight for any girl, but it clung to the tight contours of the dark haired boy's body perfectly, following tightly down to his boyish hips before fraying out in soft waves of fabric. It stopped mid-thigh, tickling the beige stockings that stretched over his lithe legs like smooth icing. Hikaru paused, blinking, before shaking his head and grinning. The pumps Akira wore made him a few inches taller; not as tall as his roommate, but closer. "You look ridiculous," Hikaru breathed, leaning close to Akira and shoving into his palm a feather duster. "Get to work."
Doing as he was told, Akira began cleaning the room. Girly clothing aside, he was actually happy to be doing so. All the dirt and trash and objects out of place were killing him, and organizing it all made him happy.
However, the clothing did displease him quite a bit.
It was impractical, the stockings bunched uncomfortably every few steps and the fabric was itchy, while the bow on his chest kept getting caught on things. "This sucks," he muttered, on his hands and knees in the middle of the dorm fishing up trash. Hikaru was stretched out on the couch, feet on the coffee table, looking like a picture of comfort.
"Women are to be seen, not heard," he reminded, scratching the back of his head and looking bored.
Akira rolled his eyes, struggling back to his feet and smoothing out the dress. He started to throw the trash away, before realizing he was holding a pair of girl's panties. "What the-" he started, gaining Hikaru's attention.
"Uhh," the teen stood and rushed to Akira's side, snatching away the underwear and shoving it in his pocket. "Just be glad I didn't make you wear those."
Snorting, the smaller of the two turned away. "Right-o," he mumbled, going about organizing the room. He didn't look at Hikaru, and thus did not see him pull a camera from of his pocket and grip it. Instead, Akira located the feather-duster and began dusting his desk. He hummed under his breath, content to be removing the grime from his life. After his desk was shining he moved to the fan, hardly paying attention as he stretched up to try and dust the blades. The teen couldn't quite reach; he strained onto his tip-toes and tried to clean, but still could not. Lifting one leg and wavering a moment, Akira was finally able to get the blades clean. As he wiped them he smiled, so out of it he didn't hear the small click coming from Hikaru's camera.
"…Perfect," Hikaru whispered under his breath, tucking the camera into his back pocket and dropping down onto the couch.
He enjoyed the rest of Akira's cleaning show with a dark smile on his face.
xxx
The next morning Akira awoke to an empty dorm room; he thought nothing of it, assuming Hikaru had made an uncharacteristic move and gone to their daily go class early that day. He dressed in silence, unused to a morning without Hikaru's constant complaining. After a quick cup of coffee Akira was out the door; he stopped dead in his tracks, staring across the hallway at the wall in front of him. It was covered in fliers, upon which each bore a picture of him from last night. The teen looked on in complete horror, not exactly surprised to find them, but simply at how prompt Hikaru was in their circulation.
Palming his cheek, Akira sighed. "Geez," he murmured, "He could have at least gotten me at a better angle."
Akira made his way to class, passing by lots of whispering girls in his dorm building. He was in the middle of the quad before anyone actually approached him; Tsutsui ran up to the dark haired teen, griping a flier tightly. "Can I have an autograph?" he laughed, thrusting the piece of paper out towards Akira and grinning lightly. "How did this happen anyways?"
"My dumbass roommate, of course," Akira explained, grabbing the paper and ripping it in half. "I don't really care," he continued, "but it's probably going to bring me a lot of trouble."
Tsutsui adjusted his glasses, using his middle finger to slide them up his nose. They caught the light; momentarily blinding Akira who blinked fiercely several times in a row, shaking his head and looking at his friend. "So why were you in a dress anyways..?" the older teen questioned, looking smugly over Akira. "I didn't know you were into crossdressing."
"I'm not! I lost a game of go to him."
"I told you he was strong," The two began walking together, laughing amicably on their way to class. Akira pointedly ignored the stares he received, figuring with time talk would die down.
When they made it to class all chatter died down. Fifteen sets of eyes all turned to Akira, and against his better judgment the boy turned red. "Good morning," he called, ignoring the looks and making his way towards his seat. He sat down, Tsutsui sitting next to him, and looked around the room for Hikaru.
He didn't see him.
"Touya-san," Akira heard a melodious voice call; he looked up in time to see Fujiwara-sensei fluttering across the room towards him, piece of paper held in hand. "What's this…?" he questioned, dropping the piece of paper in Akira's lap. "I found it on my door. Ne," his sensei leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You crossdress too?"
"No, sensei," Akira said calmly, slightly perturbed at his teacher's forwardness, wait did he say 'too'? "Shindou-san just played a little joke on me."
Fujiwara covered his lips with his fan, making a soft humming sound that Akira couldn't hear. "Because you died him pink?" the flamboyant man proposed, seeming prophetic.
"Shindou told you about that, huh?"
"We play go after class," his sensei clarified, before stepping away from Akira and floating back to the front of the room. "Class?" Fujiwara called, demanding all attention, "Today will just be independent study."
With Fujiwara sensei gone, Akira was free to scope the room in search of Hikaru. The blonde-fringed was nowhere to be found, and Akira found that confusing since he hadn't been in their dorm that morning. His attention was pulled elsewhere though, as Tsutsui set a goban down in front of him. "Shall we play a game, Touya-san?" the studious boy proposed, indicating to the board.
Akira quickly agreed, losing himself in the fast pace of go. He listened absently to the music softly buzzing from Fujiwara's office; something old and filled with deep violins.
Pa-chi
Pa-chi
Pa-chi
After class, Akira approached Fujiwara Sai's office, curiosity lurking in the back of his mind. "Sensei," he called, knocking with his index finger on the ajar door; his voice soft, timid even. "I have a question," the dark haired boy announced, regarding his teacher as he flipped through various kifu from the day. Fujiwara indicated he should continue with a wave of his hand, seeming more interested in the scores before him. "Do you know why Shindou was absent?"
"Yes, I know why," the man said, still not looking up from his papers.
Akira waited patiently for his teacher to continue, and when he received no reply, he urged him on, "Why?"
Sai finally looked up, interest peaking in his eyes. "Well I can't tell you that, Touya; that would breach student-teacher confidentiality. And I still wouldn't tell you, because I consider Shindou a personal friend."
"I don't understand," Akira spoke softly, clasping his hands in front of his waist, "is it something to do with the fliers?"
"No, but maybe if they found out about that he would pay for it," Fujiwara whispered thoughtfully, dropping his head back and regarding the ceiling.
"They?" Akira repeated, pilfering for information.
Sai turned back to Akira, smiling lightly. "Nice try, Touya-kun, but I'm not that easy. Let's just say that your friend might not be who you think he is."
So, he's a good person? Akira wanted to ask, but instead only nodded, making to leave the office. "Touya-kun," his sensei called after him, making him stop in his tracks. "Sign your picture for me sometime!" he sang; pulling the flier from his sleeve and waving it around, effectively breaking the ominous mood.
With a shiver Akira left for next class.
xxx
Akira was on the way back to his dorm room, having just left Ogata-sensei's calculus class and entered the quad. He enjoyed the heat of the day and the greenery around campus; it's scenic value calming him slightly. At midday, a little after noon, people had yet to quit staring at him about the fliers – he'd finally grown embarrassed about it. At least the lack of people around was a comfort. Most Toyo students spent the afternoon in the cafeteria, stuffing their faces with soy foods and rice.
The teen zoned out, listening to the click of his leather shoes on the cement walkway as he ambled on. They made a sort of melody, and he absently began humming to it. Akira was hardly paying attention to his surroundings, instead keeping his eyes glued dreamily to the crystal blue sky overhead. The sound of voices brought him back to earth though; his neck stiffened at the chatter of masculine voices coming from somewhere in front of him.
The dark-haired boy was almost halfway across the quad when his eyes finally found a group of three boys to whom the voices belonged. They were sharing their lunches beneath the large oak Akira and Tsutsui liked to study under on occasion, all laughing loudly together in an amicable way.
Akira paid them little mind, more interested in getting back to his room and preparing a nice lunch of udon. His stomach growled at the thought, and he palmed it lightly while following the concrete walkway.
Suddenly there was a change in the air. Akira tensed, realizing the group of boys had gone silent. He felt their eyes searing into him, and the teen had to force himself to keep walking stiffly ahead without saying anything. In his peripherals he saw movement; one of the boys had stood from his spot and was watching Akira pass like a snake. They whispered to each other, words floating through the air and grating against Akira's ears.
"Hey," the standing boy called, voice an octave high and drenched with sarcasm. "Why don't you come eat with us?"
The other two boys in the group giggled; Akira felt his ears redden. He walked rigidly, wetting his lips and staring straight ahead.
"Hey faggot – I'm talking to you!"
Akira passed directly by them, his entire body buzzing with anticipation. There had been occasions in his life when his sexuality had been mocked, but none quite as direct as this. He didn't know what to expect. Would they try to come up to him? Hit him? He kept his shoulders squared, walking along as if the boys didn't exist.
"Fine," he heard the standing one – the 'brave' one, mutter, "Be like that." Akira heard the crumpling of paper; it took all his willpower not to look over his shoulder at the boys to see what they were doing.
He found out a moment later anyways, as suddenly he was pelted in the back of the head with a paper ball. It skittered over his shoulder and fell to the ground. Akira stopped in his tracks, looking down at it with confusion. He saw his face on the outside, and sighed. These fliers were becoming quite the nuisance. Thanks a lot, Hikaru, he thought, straightening up and continuing his walk with as much dignity as possible.
The boys booed, but seemed to lose interest when they garnered no reaction from Akira. They shouted a few more insults at him, but generally died down.
Akira got out of eyesight after turning a corner; he stopped mid-step, shaky hands sliding his backpack from his shoulder and dropping it onto the ground. He shivered, arms slowly wrapping around his midsection for security. Even though it was scalding outside he felt cold; he dropped into a squatting position, breathing deeply and trying to hold back the sting in his eyes. He felt sick, body still reacting negatively to the stress from moments ago.
"Fuck," he whispered, leaning forward onto his knees and regarding the walkway. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, punching the concrete with each word. The teen was shaking uncontrollably, muscles convulsing. He'd been… scared.
He stayed like that a few moments more, before composing himself and continuing towards the dorm.
Hikaru arrived at the dorm a little after one, dragging his feet and tired from a long day. Wednesdays, he decided, were the worst day of the week. He hated them. The teen ran a hand through his bleached bangs, looking blankly around the halls of the dorm building and admiring the many fliers he'd woken up early to set. He felt a bit devious, to be honest.
Rounding the corner, Hikaru came upon his dorm room. He slipped his hand into his pocket, grabbing his keycard and whipping it out swiftly. The teen paid hardly any attention to the door as he opened it, only glancing up momentarily once the lock clicked. He went still, staring in shock at what he saw in front of him.
Someone had had the brilliant idea of putting a flier on his door; it was one of his own, but in large blocky letters across the picture it read, 'FAGGOT'. Hikaru winced, ripping the paper down immediately and shoving it in his pocket, hoping he'd beaten Akira home so his roommate wouldn't have to see it. Public ridicule was not his goal; he simply wanted everyone to see Akira in an embarrassing situation, like they'd seen him. Hikaru sighed and pushed the door open, suddenly very displeased with humanity.
Akira was sitting inside, lounging on the end of his bed and reading a book. Maybe the picture was posted after he'd already gotten back?
"Oh," his slight roommate said, looking up as Hikaru closed the door. "You took down the flier. That's a shame, I thought it was fitting."
Well, no such luck.
"I'm sorry," Hikaru said automatically, pulling the flier from his pocket and depositing it in the trashcan. "This wasn't the intention."
Akira went back to reading silently, the stillness making his roommate uncomfortable. "I know," he said absently after a moment, dabbing the pad of his thumb on his tongue and flipping a page, "I've dealt with things like this before. It'll pass. No big deal."
Well aren't you calm, Hikaru wanted to say. To be honest, he felt like he was more worked up than the actual victim here was. He drooped his shoulders, throwing himself face-first onto the blanket-covered couch and groaning contentedly. The boy was ready to fall asleep, and with Akira's silence he thought he might actually manage it. "Hey, Hikaru?" The dark headed teen called, making Hikaru look up from his mess of blankets, "Where were you today?"
Hikaru's stomach dropped; he leaned up, biceps shuddering slightly from holding all of his weight. "Can't say," he mused after a moment, sticking his tongue out at Akira to indicate he wasn't going to say anything more. The smaller boy watched him for a moment, before sighing and turning another page on his book. The movement caught Hikaru's eyes; he was surprised to find rough bandages encasing his roommate's right hand.
"What happened there?" he questioned, indicating to Akira's hand with his head.
The smaller boy held up his hand, looking at it as if he'd forgotten it existed. "Oh, this?" he mumbled, smiling, "I can't tell you."
Hikaru rubbed his nose, mind going to the worst-case-scenario. Had Akira gotten beaten up because of the posters? Did someone hurt him because of what he had done?
Oh guilt, how you sting.
The larger of the two teens sat back on the couch, sighing loudly to indicate his displeasure. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the headrest and feeling tired. Akira said nothing more, and in the silence Hikaru slipped off to sleep. He had class in an hour.
xxx
"You don't have to walk me to class - I'm not a little kid," Akira complained, shifting his backpack around on his shoulder and glaring up at one Shindou Hikaru; the male in question had been insisting for several days on trailing his feminine roommate from class-to-class as backup 'muscle' to avoid any incidents. Hikaru took reconciliation to a whole new level, but to Akira it was an unwanted burden. "Not a single thing has happened in two days, stop it already."
Hikaru ignored the dark haired boy, looking out over the quad with squinted eyes. The two walked in silence; Akira sighing repeatedly every few seconds and sending haughty looks at his pseudo-stalker. "God," the smaller of the duo breathed, "You're like a clingy girlfriend."
"Don't pretend you wouldn't like that," Hikaru grinned, sticking his tongue out and dodging when Akira tried to smack him.
"I'd rather have my eyes eaten out by Kubikajiri*."
They stopped in front of Akira's Study of the Romantic Languages class, hovering outside the door and awkwardly looking at each other. "Listen," Akira finally started, looking uncomfortable, "There are other reasons you can't keep following me around. People will talk."
Hikaru, who had been playing with a flier from the European Club, lofted a chocolate brow; "And what would they talk about?"
"Us. You, me. They'll say we're… dating, or something ridiculous. I can handle that stuff, because at least I'm actually gay. It's different when it's not true." Akira pulled his backpack off his shoulder, pulling open the door to his class and stepping halfway inside. He stopped, regarding Hikaru coldly, "Isn't the whole reason you're doing this to avoid stuff like that? I have A & P after this; I don't want to find you waiting for me when I'm done."
"Bu-"
"No buts," Akira continued firmly. "I can handle myself. Quit pretending to be mister nice-guy just because you fucked up."
With that the smaller boy stepped inside, slamming the door in Hikaru's face. "Geeze," the blond-fringed teen breathed, "I'm not pretending." Well, if Akira didn't want his help then he wasn't going to get it. Hikaru tucked a blond strand of hair behind his ear, walking away. It didn't matter anyways.
It was six when Akira finally got out of class; he hesitated when he didn't see Hikaru, but only for a moment. The dark haired teen hadn't expected his words to get through his roommate's thick skull. He didn't know why but… getting what he wanted kind of put him off. Yes, Hikaru's incessant chatter and shadowing him was annoying, but it had been somewhat… amusing. And maybe he'd felt a bit safer. Maybe.
"Whatever," Akira groaned, distractedly shoving his books into his bag. He paused, pulling out one of the texts and looking at it. "Oh, crap," he murmured, realizing the book was due back at the library today. The teen shrugged back the sleeve of his button-down and glanced at his watch, wincing. The library closed in fifteen minutes.
Akira broke out into a run with the book clenched to his chest, backpack bouncing on his shoulders and hair streaming behind his head. The sky was growing dark outside; the moon peeked out from behind cottony cumulous clouds, barely visible through the school's tinted windows. Akira's shoes smacked the linoleum, reverberating through the empty halls. His breath came in huffs; a moment later he reached the end of the hall and burst outside through a set of double doors.
In the quad now, the slight boy continued his fevered run. He passed several stragglers on his way, earning strange looks. "Akira?" one called, and he looked back to see Hikaru walking with a group of friends.
Akira didn't stop, simply yelling a quick, "Gotta go!" over his shoulder. Hikaru stared after him, then looked back and forth between his two friends.
"Yeah, he's pretty weird," the teen said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly at their glances.
Cutting through the grass, Akira disappeared behind a cluster of trees and left Hikaru staring after him blankly. He was approaching another building; a group of teens were mulling outside the front door, smoking cigarettes and talking. Akira cut through them, pulling the door open and lurching inside. Over his own breathing he heard one remark, "Isn't that that g-"
The door slammed closed and Akira doubled over, breathing roughly. He lurched towards the counter, slamming his book down and staring up at the surprised looking librarian. She was a student at the school, with long brown hair and honey skin. A strand of hair fell into Akira's eye; he blew out a puff of air to move it, never once breaking eye contact. "Ahh, Touya-san," she breathed, taking the book lightly, "Thank you for being so prudent. You know…" the girl looked around the library, "if the library had closed you could have just dropped it in the shoot outside."
"I'll keep that in mind." Akira straightened, dusting his clothes and taking a few more deep breaths.
He readjusted his backpack before turning around and stepping out the door. Cool evening air rushed over the boy, sending a shiver up his spine. Akira let out a wispy breath, casting emerald eyes up at the sky. It was dim, graying, and the moon had grown prominent among the clouds. The group of kids who had previously been in front of the door had moved further down, loitering under a blinking streetlamp in a hale of smoke. Akira blinked at them, squinting at the indiscernible silhouettes with uncertainty. He was feeling uneasy. Their laughter sounded cruel to him, and he could see their whites of their eyes lingering in his direction.
Be cool, Akira chided himself mentally, just because it happened once…
He started towards the group, intended to make it back to his room and relax. Hikaru looked like he'd be going out, so he would have the night to himself and a good book. Yes, he thought, just say excuse me and pass through. This isn't a big deal.
Akira felt his hand shaking at his side. He gripped the strap of his backpack to steady it, then began walking slowly towards the group. Maybe he should have gone through the grass… but he didn't want to let himself form some kind of complex about groups of men. He was not a small helpless person, and he wouldn't let fear push him around.
"Excuse me," he said rather forcefully once he reached the group. One of the guys turned around, a cigarette balanced delicately between his lips.
Akira tightened up, recognizing the teen from somewhere. "Well, look! It's our resident faggot."
The dark haired boy's stomach dropped. He felt out of breath; that voice was the voice of the guy from under the oak tree. Of course. The one time he was without Hikaru… of course he'd run into them. Somewhere in the back of Akira's mind the words, Hikaru's going to give me so much shit for this, rang out.
"Why wouldn't you eat with us the other day?" the leader of the group asked, his voice tart. Akira immediately began taking steps backwards; everything in his body told him he was in a dangerous situation. The dark figure before him followed, and as did the three boys behind him. "Where're you going?"
Akira turned out his heel, breaking out into a sprint. He took two steps, felt something catch his collar, and lagged, feet jutting out and body crashing backwards. Solidly the teen crashed into his pursuer's chest; he deftly recognized the sound of his dress-shirt ripping slightly down the back. "No!" he screamed, feeling large arms twist him around and throw him into the group of males. They were all laughing as Akira stumbled, barely catching his balance before he hit the concrete. He immediately tried to run again, but was met with an impenetrable wall of broad chests and angry faces.
"Think you're too good for us, faggot?" sounded the voice of his main antagonist. Akira winced, turning in a full circle and finding he was surrounded. Overhead the streetlamp flickered; shadows covered the entire group. Another boy chimed in, "Maybe he only likes queers!"
From behind a set of rough hands shoved Akira's back; he staggered forward, meeting another set of arms that propelled him across the circle. The teen screamed, constantly being thrust violently from boy to boy. They all laughed, yelling curses at him. Akira had never been in this situation; his head bounced back and forth, eyes swimming. He felt completely helpless.
Make a break for it! His mind screamed, but with all the voices around him and the mass amount of adrenalin flooding his system, he was too scared. "You shouldn't exist!" one screamed, grabbing Akira by the shoulders and kneeing him in the stomach. The boy doubled over; one shove from across the circle sent him tumbling to the ground. "Fucking…" one started, kicking him roughly. The others joined in, seemingly enjoying themselves.
Akira groaned, feeling nauseous from pain. He batted at one of the legs that came at his face, blocking it with fever. Once it receded he grabbed after it, pulling furiously forward until the owner of the leg wavered and hit the ground. Akira scrambled, ignoring a foot that slammed into his back. He skirted over the fallen teen, clawing at the concrete in a fevered attempt to get away.
Freedom seemed to be close, until again someone caught the back of his shirt and pulled hard. Akira cried out, feeling his body fly around until he came face-to-face with the leader of the group. A shock slammed through his body; the boy holding him cocked his arm back to punch him square in the face.
Akira's eyes widened.
xxx
"Why is your roommate so weird, anyways?" Shinichiro Isumi asked, staring as Akira rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, clutching a book and looking desperate.
Hikaru shook his head, smiling. "I don't know. He's not a bad guy, though. He tries to act tough."
Isumi nodded, mind turning away from Akira. "Where's the party, anyways?" he asked, glancing at his watch. He and the second member of their group, Yoshitaka Waya, turned expectantly towards Hikaru. The teen simply messed with his blond fringe, looking around the quad.
"In the West Dorms."
Waya spoke up, sounding alarmed. "What? Then why are we on the Eastern side of campus? We'll be late!"
"Uhh," Hikaru lagged, wetting his lips. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd been loitering around the Science department since six. The teen just wanted to keep a noncommittal eye on Akira; he'd heard things around campus - a group of gay-bashers at the school had had an eye out for his roommate, and they wanted blood. It was Hikaru's fault they knew about Akira, and he was determined to right his wrong.
Shushing him, Waya started again. "Nevermind, nevermind. Let's just go!" He started herding the other two boys, but Hikaru resisted.
"I can't go…" he breathed, wetting his lips. "Not yet."
Hikaru heard a small yelp from the direction Akira had gone. His stomach turned, and he whipped around immediately. Waya and Isumi looked at him strangely; "What's wrong?" they asked in unison, apparently having heard nothing.
"You two go without me. I have to take care of something," Hikaru said, turning away from his friends; he broke into a sprint, feet carrying him in the direction Akira had gone. Bits of grass kicked up under his heels, flying through the air in small arches before hitting the ground. Hikaru slowed, spreading his way through low braches as he stepped through the group of trees that had blocked his view from Akira.
He stopped, looking around. The Library was deserted, and the lights were off inside. Up from there he saw a set of streetlamps; under the farthest one a circle of boys were jeering and yelling slurred words. Hikaru started towards them uncertainly. He felt tense, hoping Akira was simply in the Library, and he was overreacting.
As he came closer to the group, their words became unmistakable. Hikaru hissed, jogging towards the group. At the same time the boy closest to him fell. Akira wiggled over him, a line of blood running down his chin. The teen looked terrified; his focus so intensely honed on clawing his way away that he didn't see Hikaru. One teen from the circle grabbed Akira by the collar, ripping him backwards and turning around to punch him.
No one had seen Hikaru. Time seemed to slow; he saw Akira's attacker's arm cocking back, and on instinct lurched forward to grab it.
Hikaru felt his hand encircle the teen's wrist, and with all his might he ripped the boy back, grunting with exertion. The larger male stumbled back with Hikaru's force, turning just in time to meet the blond-fringed teen's fist. He dropped in a second; falling on top of the boy Akira had tripped.
The entire group stopped. Akira stood in the middle, chest heaving. Shocked emeralds slid up Hikaru's face, meeting his eyes and staring.
Time sped back to normal.
Akira ran forward; Hikaru grabbed him by the wrist and slid the boy behind him. "What the fuck?" he roared, eyes shooting daggers at the two teens who remained standing in the group. He stepped forward, but the boy stepped away uncertainly. "What is wrong with you guys? Touya never did anything to you!" They looked back and forth at each other, before pointing at Akira.
"He shouldn't exist! It's disgus-"
"Shut up!" Hikaru roared, "you're disgusting!" He stepped forward, grabbing one teen by the shirt and glaring into his eyes, "People like you are the scum of the earth!"
He dropped the shirt, shoving him backward into his friend. The two boys backed away, before turning around and running away. Hikaru stared after them, breathing heavily. The boys on the ground had apparently crawled away at some point; Akira looked in the direction they weren't hesitantly, before turning towards Hikaru. The larger boy was a silhouette under the streetlamp, and Akira felt flighty thinking about it. "Thank you," he said awkwardly, dabbing at the blood on his chin. He must have scrapped it.
"I should take you to the nurse," Hikaru said, pulling Akira's arm over his shoulder.
The smaller boy shrugged away. "Please, no. Just… just take me back to the dorm. I don't want to be outside anymore. I want to go to bed." Hikaru started to resist, but a sullen look from Akira stopped him.
"Alright," he murmured, wetting his lips.
The two walked back to their dorm slowly, not bothering with small talk. Somewhere along the way Hikaru noticed Akira shaking. "Listen," he started, looking at his roommate, "I'm-"
"Thank you," Akira said again, looking up at Hikaru. The larger of the two noticed a trail of liquid rolling down his roommate's cheek. He stopped walking, staring blankly. "Thank you so much."
Hikaru heaved a sigh, scared by how shaken Akira was. He didn't know what to say. Instead, the teen reached out awkwardly, pulling the dark haired boy into a one-armed hug. Akira stiffened, before melting into Hikaru's side. He sighed.
Maybe Hikaru really wasn't that bad, after all.
oOo
Acta est Fabula
oOo
A/N: GOD THAT TOOK FOREVER. I hope you enjoyed. On a side note, It's 2:44 AM and I am watching Family Guy. My eyes hurt. Haha. Sorry this chapter sucks. I forced it out, and that always takes its toll. :(
Please review! If you have any questions, let me know.
"What's this?
What's this?
There's something on my door!
What's this?
What's this?
It's Touya as a whore!" -What I wanted Sai to sing when he asked Akira about the flier. Too bad I couldn't fit it in.