Mahiru hated English vocabulary. A lot.
That itself was bad enough. He always barely passed in spite of studying his head off, and studying was long and hard and he still couldn't bring himself to remember more than two words at a time and the most basic rules of grammar. It was embarrassing, really.
This wasn't the problem right now, though. The problem was that Mahiru was supposed to teach this subject to Kuro when he was on the verge of failing it himself.
Oh, great. This was about to get really embarrassing.
He had considered asking Misono for help but quickly changed his mind upon hearing that his classmate was already tutoring Tetsu. If Tetsu's grades hadn't changed dramatically since middle school, that task alone was enough to keep Misono busy until the exams. Licht was pretty good at English too but too busy catching up to everything he'd missed when he was away for concerts and piano competitions, and Ryuusei, Koyuki and Sakuya were all about as lost on this as Mahiru was, if not more.
So, thinking simply, he'd have to take matters in his own hands. Even if he sucked.
Or that had been the plan, anyway.
"Abysmal," he muttered, repeating the word for about the fifth time. "Why does this word have two opposite meanings? Like..." He pointed to the dictionary lying in front of him. "Here it says it means great or profound, but this–" he gestured towards his vocabulary list– "says it means low and wretched? Which is it?"
"It's called an auto-antonym," Kuro remarked from the side. "Or contronym or whatever... it's a word with two opposite meanings."
Mahiru looked up in awe. "How did you–" His eyes came to rest on the cell phone in his friend's hand. "Hey, don't just Google it!"
"Wikipedia's a better teacher than you, Mahiru."
"Do I look like a goddamn encyclopedia to you? I'm only human, geez!"
"Your English really sucks though..."
Mahiru groaned in frustration. "Tell me something new! How about you stop taking naps and start paying attention in class? Then I wouldn't have to tutor you now even though I need a tutor myself!"
Kuro stretched across the desk and blinked up at Mahiru from below. "I can speak English, y'know."
"Seriously?" Mahiru furrowed his brow in suspicion. "Or just trying to escape another tutoring lesson?"
"...You call this tutoring?"
"Shut up! I'm doing my best, okay?"
Kuro simply continued to watch him with that half bored, half amused expression he always wore when he was teasing him. Mahiru honestly didn't know if he should laugh or punch his friend in the face. Maybe both.
"Fine," he said at last, resigned. "If you're that good at English, how about you prove it?"
Today's study session wasn't going well at all.
Misono didn't know what was different, but something seemed wrong with Sendagaya. Usually the freshman would calmly listen to him with wide eyes, taking in every bit of knowledge and trying to store it in his memory and marveling at Misono's explaining skills, but not today. Today he wasn't acting like himself at all.
Today he was... off.
If he had to put it into words, Misono would say that Sendagaya was seriously lacking in concentration today. He couldn't focus at all. He kept spacing out. He would forget things Misono had told him mere seconds ago and mix everything up in his head and spend at least two minutes looking for his pen every time he wanted to write something down, even though it was always in the same place. His eyes were all over the place, and more often than not they would rest on Misono as he spoke, as though he was trying to comprehend something that was written in Misono's face and would eventually begin to make sense if he just stared at it hard enough.
To say that it was putting him off was an understatement. In all honesty though, Misono wasn't entirely sure what was more off-putting to him, Sendagaya's behavior itself or the fact that he didn't know what was wrong with his underclassman.
He hated not knowing what to do. He hated not being able to do something. But there was no way in hell he would just ask the idiot what on earth was wrong with him. That would make it look like he was actually worried about Sendagaya Tetsu! He couldn't even imagine the embarrassment.
Still, something had to be done, and it had to be done fast before Misono lost his focus too and became just as ridiculously mixed up as his underclassman.
Maybe if he phrased it the right way...
"Sendagaya."
The freshman blinked at him for a few seconds before realizing he was being addressed. "Uh, yeah?"
"Is there anything on my face?"
"...Huh?"
There was a moment of awkward silence as both of them stared at each other, waiting for the other to say something.
"Uh, no," Sendagaya finally said, still looking puzzled. "Can't see anything, why?"
Part of Misono wanted to shake his head at him. Was he seriously so dense that he couldn't take a hint to stop staring? This guy really was a full-grown imbecile. "If that is the case," he said sharply, shooting a glare at Sendagaya, "then why do you continue to stare at it?"
"You're pretty."
Silence.
Misono stared at Sendagaya. Sendagaya stared back at Misono. Both of them gaped at each other with their mouths open, trying to process what the freshman had just blurted out.
"...What?"
"What?"
Misono felt his cheeks heat up as the whole reality of that sentence hit him full force. "Wh- Wh- Wha-?!" he stammered, trying and failing to keep his composure. "What did you just call me?"
"Sorry." Sendagaya's face was glowing red too, and he avoided Misono's eyes, scratching his neck sheepishly. "I mean you're pretty cool. And... smart and mature and stuff. But... yeah, you're pretty too."
Misono could feel his face going redder and redder with every new compliment. His heartbeat was far too loud in his ears, pounding and racing and drowning out all other noise. There was so much blood rushing through his face that he felt it might explode. His stomach felt like a swarm of butterflies.
This was bad.
"Sendagaya, you bastard!" Misono burst out, finally regaining at least some common sense. "What do you think you're saying out of the blue? Flattering me will get you nowhere!"
His underclassman looked at him in surprise. "I wasn't trying to flatter you... I'm being serious."
There it was again, that rush of adrenaline, the feeling of sitting in a roller-coaster and racing downhill at full speed. Misono could feel himself blushing again, could feel a warm jittery feeling spreading through his body along with the urge to both punch Sendagaya in the face and smile like an idiot. What was wrong with him today? Was he really that unused to compliments? Didn't he hear this sort of thing all the time?
He couldn't possibly like Sendagaya Tetsu, could he?
He shook that thought off before it could latch onto him. Nonsense. He was simply flattered to be called pretty, that was all. Sendagaya's disarming honesty had taken him off guard, and that was why he was currently behaving like a lovestruck– like a normal idiot. Not lovestruck. Not even close to lovestruck. He couldn't possibly be that tasteless, could he?
Misono breathed in and out, trying to regain his composure. "Well," he said off to the side, avoiding Sendagaya's eyes, "since you went through the trouble of complimenting me, I suppose etiquette dictates that thanks are in order." He reached out a hand for his underclassman to shake. "So, thank you... or something."
"Huh? O-Okay." Sendagaya grabbed Misono's hand and shook it. "No prob."
They went back to studying, but neither of them could concentrate for the rest of the lesson. Sendagaya was still constantly spacing out, and Misono's thoughts constantly kept circling around the warmth of his underclassman's large hand around his.
"...You still don't get it?" Sakuya stared at his upperclassman with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation. "Are you for real?"
Tsubaki smiled the most innocent smile he could muster. Sakuya could practically see his halo. "Would you mind explaining it to me one more time, Sakuya-sensei?"
"Not sure that'll help," Sakuya deadpanned. "If you still don't get it, maybe I just suck at explaining."
Tsubaki stared at him like he'd been personally offended. "Of course not!" he burst out. "Your explanations are great, I could listen to them all day!"
"Could or need to? I'm not explaining this stuff over and over just 'cause you wanna listen to it again, go record it and put it on replay or something."
Tsubaki blinked up at him with the saddest puppy-dog eyes he could muster before curling up into a ball and turning to Berukia. "Beru," he whined, "Sakuya won't take a compliment."
"Eeeeeeh?! Sakuya, that's ruuuuuuuude! Apologize to Tsubakyun!"
"Will you guys ever stop making me look like the bad guy? You're a real pain!"
None of them answered. They just continued to bore holes into Sakuya with their eyes. Sakuya turned to Otogiri for help, but she just gave him a very unsympathetic look and mouthed "apologize."
He was so not going to her for help again.
Keep cool, he reminded himself. Tsubaki and the others were managing to get on his last nerve again, but he couldn't snap or this would end in an even bigger mess than whatever the hell it already was. "Hey," he said, trying to sound both calm and slightly threatening at the same time, "Tsubaki-san, I don't wanna keep explaining that one part to you all day, I still have my own studying to do you know. So how about you write down what I just told you for the third time? Maybe then you'll remember it better." And shut up for a moment.
I just sounded a lot like Mahiru, he realized. So responsible. Scary. His best friend was apparently wearing off on him every once in a while.
Tsubaki jumped to his feet, hastily trying to scramble for his pen and notebook, and tripped over himself and fell. He got back up immediately, dashed over to the desk, darted back to his spot next to Sakuya and immediately started scribbling in his notebook, a mildly terrified look on his face. Apparently Sakuya had gone a little overboard with the threatening side of his voice.
He finished in no time at all and held up the notebook, proudly presenting it to Sakuya. "Is this correct, sensei?"
Sakuya skimmed over the notes, checking every detail, and sighed with relief. "Yeah."
Wait a minute.
He looked through the notes again. Another time. Something was off.
"Tsubaki-san..." He pointed at a detail in his upperclassman's notebook. "How did you know this? I didn't tell you that part."
Tsubaki smiled at him. "Well, when you told me all that I remembered everything again!" He burst out laughing.
This was it. This was enough. Without saying another word, Sakuya got up, grabbed his notebooks and pencils and walked towards the door. He was so getting out of there. He'd had it with these idiots.
Tsubaki looked up, stopped laughing and grabbed his sleeve. "Sakuya, wait!"
Sakuya struggled and pulled, but he couldn't shake off Tsubaki's grip. Very unwillingly he turned around, glowering down at his friend. "What?"
Without looking intimidated as usual, Tsubaki met his glare with a look of complete and utter sincerity. "You explained it all really well," he said, smiling. "Thanks, Sakuya!"
That smile... Sakuya couldn't stand it. He didn't hate it, not at all. Actually, it was kind of the opposite. He just hated the things it did to him, the feelings it stirred within him that he shouldn't be having towards this eccentric, off-the-wall idiot. This smile reminded him of so many things... it reminded him that there was more to Tsubaki than his usual silliness, even more than his pranks and attacks and desire to take revenge on the Servamps. It reminded him that he had a heart, he was kind and honest and genuine. It reminded him that this was still the guy who had saved his life so many years ago.
It was the exact same expression he'd shown back then.
Damn it, this is why I can't leave you. Sakuya could feel his expression softening even as he sighed in defeat and sat back down, right next to Tsubaki even though he didn't have to tutor him anymore.
Hyde wasn't fond of studying or putting in too much effort, so he might be a little biased there, but he was sure he wasn't the only one who could see that Licht was totally overworking himself.
The pianist had been busy all day. He had woken up at five in the morning to study and practice the piano, gone to class, diligently taking notes and doing every task he was assigned, gone to the now-empty music club room to practice the piano again, and finally gone back to his room to study some more. Now it was past nine in the evening and Licht hadn't even turned up to dinner. And, frankly, Hyde couldn't help feeling a little worried.
It wasn't that he cared about Licht, not really. The self-proclaimed angel was nothing but a temporary distraction to him, like so many others before, like so many others he'd still meet. Once he got bored with him, Hyde would just dump like a used tissue and move on. As always.
But right now he wasn't bored yet. Not by a long way. Honestly, it wasn't normal. He didn't even like Licht too much, but there was something about this arrogant, eccentric workaholic prick that kept him interested. Perhaps it was the fact that Licht, unlike all the other people he'd chosen to hang out with, openly hated his guts. Strange as it was, fighting with him was fun, and Hyde simply couldn't keep himself from pushing Licht's buttons again and again.
Right now, however, he didn't feel like messing with his classmate. He felt like checking up on him.
"Angel-chan?" he called softly through the closed door. "Lichtan, what are you doing in there?"
No answer. Not even a groan or a huff or a sound of movement. The room was completely silent.
"Lichtan!" Hyde called again, louder this time. "Can you hear me or are you sleeping?"
Silence.
This was seriously weird. Usually Licht would at least have made an annoyed sound by now, but there was nothing. It wasn't like him at all. Was he wearing earplugs? Had his composure suddenly improved drastically? Or... was something wrong with him?
Fine, one more try. "Angel-chan!" he shouted through the door. "What are you working so hard for, that's a waste of time!"
If Licht still didn't answer now Hyde would have to assume that something was seriously wrong. There was no way his classmate wouldn't respond to a taunt like that. He had to!
Hyde listened intently, but there was still no answer.
"Licht?" he called again, hoping that he didn't sound as worried as he was feeling all of a sudden. "Licht, I'm coming in!"
He placed a hand on the door handle and carefully peeked inside.
Licht's room was dark, except for the small circle of light around his desk, created by a single lamp. The desk itself was covered in paper; textbooks, notebooks, worksheets. Pens and pencils lay scattered among the mess, with the occasional eraser in between. A pencil or two had even fallen down on the floor and rolled towards the bed, something Licht would never allow to happen in a normal situation.
Sitting in the middle of this mess, with his head resting on the desk, was Licht himself. His face lay in the crook of one arm while the other was dangling down at his side, long fingers still clutching a pencil, his shoulders rising and falling with every breath he took.
Hyde almost felt like laughing. "Hey, Angel-chan," he said softly, approaching his sleeping classmate. "Did you seriously fall asleep like that?"
Licht didn't answer. He just stirred slightly and mumbled something in his sleep.
"Licht?" Hyde called again, trying to peek at the pianist's face. "Licht, can you hear me? Angel-chan, wake up!"
No reaction.
Hyde reached out, grabbed Licht's shoulder and shook him gently. Licht would be so mad at him for waking him up like that, he realized with an amused smirk. He'd probably kick him again, but his embarrassed face when he realized he'd been caught sleeping at his desk would probably be worth it.
If Licht woke up, anyway.
Hyde's shaking didn't help. The pianist only groaned but didn't even make an attempt to swat Hyde's hand off.
Something was wrong.
Hyde's throat felt tight. Every part of him was alert all of a sudden. There was something seriously wrong with Licht if he didn't even react to being shaken like this. Was he sick? Had he overworked himself? What was the matter?
Grabbing Licht at both shoulders, he lifted his face off the desk and gently pushed him to lean back in the chair. It was just as he'd suspected. Licht's face was all red, there were dark shadows under his eyes, and when Hyde touched his forehead it was glowing with heat.
He chuckled, but there was no mirth in that chuckle. "Lichtan," he said, "did you seriously get a fever? So even idiots can catch colds, huh!"
A cold wave of panic rushed over him. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to help someone with a fever again? He'd learned this, he knew he had, but his mind remained blank. Should he cool Licht's forehead? Keep him warm? Did he need anything to eat or drink? What foods were said to help against colds again? Should he call for help? What was he supposed to do?
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. What the hell, he thought. Freaking out like that over Licht of all people? Angel-chan might not be the only one who's getting sick today.
One way or another, rest was always good, and Licht couldn't stay in this chair forever. There was at least something he could do. Careful not to wake him up, he picked up the feverish pianist and carried him to the bed, placing him down and tucking him under the blanket. Licht moved his lips and seemed to whisper something unintelligible but didn't open his eyes.
Alright, that was better. He'd rest up, and in the morning he'd be back to normal already. Hyde could leave now.
His hand came to rest on the door handle, but he didn't walk out. This isn't the kind of fever you can get rid of just by a good night's rest, a voice in his head whispered. He'll have to call in sick tomorrow.
So what, he told himself. A day without Licht sounded nice and peaceful, relaxing even. Finally doing what he wanted, whenever he wanted, without this goody-two-shoes picking a fight with him or kicking him across the room for the tiniest things...
It sounded awfully boring.
School without his temporary distraction sounded like a living nightmare. Dull, dreary... lonely?
Shaking his head at himself, Licht, the upcoming exams and this whole messy situation, he took his phone out of his pocket and started searching for fever cures.
Licht's embarrassment when he found out that he owed his recovery to Hyde of all people would be worth it, after all.
"Kuro..." Mahiru's eyes were wide as saucers, gazing at his friend in growing awe. "Your English is really good!"
Kuro took the last potato chip from its bag and stuffed it into his mouth. "Told ya."
Mahiru was so baffled that he didn't even realize that Kuro had just taken the last chip and talked with his mouth full. "No, but you're seriously amazing!" he insisted. "I feel like I finally understand all this stuff now, thanks so much!" He couldn't help smiling from ear to ear.
"Can't deal..." Kuro turned away as if blinded by a dazzling light. "It's not that hard though. You just suck."
"Well, sorry about sucking!" Mahiru snapped. "Where did you learn all that though? You can't tell me it's just natural talent, with the amount of studying you put in you should've been just as bad as me!"
Kuro shifted, folding his arms on the desk and resting his head on top of them, gazing out the window into the distance. He looked small somehow, lost, as if this was too big for him and he was trying to escape it by hiding.
"Ah, that..." he mumbled hesitantly. "I've kinda been abroad."
Mahiru snapped to attention. "Abroad?"
Kuro shifted again, visibly uncomfortable with the subject. Mahiru was just about to tell him to forget he'd asked when he sighed in resignation and did spoke up without raising his head from his arms.
"What a pain... you'd have found out at some point anyway so whatever," he mumbled, averting his eyes. "Yeah, I spent a year abroad back in like... fifth or sixth grade or something."
Mahiru furrowed his brow. "Fifth or sixth grade?" he asked. "Isn't that kind of young to do an exchange?"
Kuro didn't answer at first. He just buried his face in his arms until only his eyes peered over his sleeves and sighed again. "It wasn't an exchange."
Mahiru blinked in surprise. "Eh?"
"I was just sent to live with some people there," Kuro muttered under his breath, so quietly that it took all of Mahiru's attention to catch the words. "Friends of some distant relatives of my distant relatives or something, dunno what they were. But they live in Australia and they took me in so... yeah."
"Took you in?" Mahiru repeated softly, already sensing what Kuro was about to tell him next. "What... what do you mean?"
"...I'm an orphan."
Mahiru felt his eyes widen. An orphan... so Kuro didn't have any parents? He'd grown up by himself, raised by other relatives... Just like me.
A wave of sympathy washed over him. Following a sudden urge, he reached out a hand, letting it rest on Kuro's back, sending his friend a silent encouragement as he continued.
"Or pretty much an orphan." Kuro spoke faster than usual, as if he was trying to get this over with quickly. "My parents didn't want kids, so they gave me up for adoption after my birth. Dunno who they are or where they live. I've only ever grown up with host families." He paused. "Lots of them, none of them ever kept me 'round too long. Moving all the time was a pain."
Mahiru looked at him and could feel everything Kuro had left unsaid. That the host families hadn't wanted him, hadn't liked him, had tried to get rid of him as fast as possible. The feeling of being a stranger in a new neighborhood, of not knowing anyone, of not being welcome... of not being loved.
For over sixteen years.
His throat felt tight, as though there was a giant lump in it that he just couldn't swallow. His fingers clenched into the fabric of Kuro's shirt. His eyes were stinging, and his vision was starting to get blurry with tears.
Wait... why was he about to cry? Why was he getting so upset about this? Kuro didn't seem to mind as much as he did, so why...?
Was it because he was an orphan himself? Because he could relate to the feeling of growing up without parents, the feeling of being left all alone in this world? Was it because he, too, had experienced the feeling of not being wanted? It had only been once, and it hadn't lasted, but it had been enough. How had Kuro managed, living his entire life with that feeling on his shoulders?
"Mahiru... what're you doing with my shirt?"
Kuro's voice snapped Mahiru out of his thoughts. His eyes strayed down to the hand that was still gripping Kuro's shirt, clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white. "Oh," he mumbled, letting go of the fabric. "Sorry..."
Something must have sounded off with his voice, because Kuro lifted his head to look at his face.
A shadow of concern crossed his eyes, and he furrowed his brows into the tiniest frown. "Mahiru?"
Embarrassed to be caught on the verge of tears, Mahiru hurriedly wiped his eyes and put on a smile that was only slightly forced. "I'm fine," he said. "It's just..." His voice started trembling again, crumbling, threatening to crack. "You've been through a lot."
Kuro averted his gaze. "Just a lot of families. No big deal... what a pain, you're so melodramatic."
"I'm not melodramatic!" Mahiru tried to snap, blinking back the new tears threatening to gather in his eyes. "It's empathy, you know? You should be happy I'm feeling for you!"
He tried to wipe his eyes with his sleeve again, but Kuro reached for a tissue and held it out towards him, staring intently at the desk. "Here. Now stop crying, it's lame."
Mahiru took the tissue from Kuro's hand and couldn't help smiling, despite his friend's rude words. "Thanks," he said, wiping off his tears. "I think I'm okay now. Thanks, Kuro!"
"Can't deal..."
There was a moment's silence between them. Each looked off into a different direction, feeling their heartbeat more than really hearing it, sensing the other's presence next to them but avoiding eye contact. Perhaps a pause like this should be an awkward silence, but it didn't feel that way. If anything, it felt more... companionable. Warm. Still pulsating and flickering with tension, but comfortable at the same time.
Kuro welcomed the silence gladly, thankful that he didn't have to speak, didn't have to reply to anything Mahiru had to say. If he spoke right now, there was no knowing what would happen. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his composure or even just hide the fact that now that Mahiru had calmed down again, he was the one who felt like crying.
For sixteen years he'd lived in this condition, the child who wasn't at home anywhere, who was always just another mouth to feed, who was unwanted, unneeded, a nuisance. For over a decade he'd made peace with that situation. Well, not peace, but at least some sort of truce. He hadn't accepted it, but he'd stopped getting upset about it. It was the only thing he could do to deal with something he couldn't change anyway. Just stop thinking about it. He'd gone numb, he'd hidden his loneliness behind a layer of sarcasm and dry gallows humor and an uncaring attitude. That was how it had always been. It hadn't been good, but it had been okay. Okay enough, anyway.
Ever since he had developed that attitude, Kuro had stopped expecting people to care. They had never cared to begin with, not the handful he had told about this back when he was still young and stupid, and not the teachers and classmates who'd heard about his condition from his host families. He hadn't expected that anyone could possibly be even slightly affected by his fate. The notion had even seemed ridiculous to him - after all, if he himself didn't care anymore, why should anyone else?
But Mahiru hadn't known that. Mahiru had heard his story and understood how hard it was, how hard it had been on him as a kid, and had been moved by Kuro's fate. Mahiru had shed tears of sympathy for him. Mahiru had stirred up the dust of acceptance that Kuro had allowed to settle on the situation, reminding him that it wasn't normal, it wasn't okay, and that he'd been right to have been hurt by it as a child. Mahiru's reaction, overly sentimental as it was, had reminded him of what the entire world had tried to make him forget. He'd reminded him that he had a right to be upset about it.
And now he wasn't sure if it was this feeling that had him on the verge of tears or just the sight of Mahiru tearing up.
Kuro couldn't explain why, but when he had seen tears gather in Mahiru's eyes, it had hurt him. It had hurt him in places that he hadn't even thought could hurt, tugging and pulling and tearing at his heart and making a lump grow in his throat. Seeing Mahiru so sad and upset was painful, and he didn't know why. All he did know was that he never wanted to see that expression on his friend's face again. Especially not because of him.
"Mahiru, I..." The words were out before he could think, before he could stop them. "I'm sorry."
He could feel Mahiru's brown gaze more than he saw it, resting on him with curiosity. "Sorry for what?"
Great.
Kuro really had acted without thinking. What was he supposed to say now? The truth? He probably owed that to Mahiru, but... there was no way he could possibly say that.
I'm sorry for making you so upset. I'm sorry for making you cry. That sounded lame and sappy. Not that Mahiru's tears earlier hadn't been lame and sappy too, but that was different. Mahiru was an emotional guy to begin with, honest and open about his feelings. Kuro wasn't. He didn't like opening up to anyone like that, not even to Mahiru. It made him too vulnerable.
Those velvety brown eyes were still resting on him, calmly awaiting an answer. Kuro still avoided his friend's gaze. He knows what you're trying to say, his intuition whispered. He understands.
So... might as well finish what he started and tell him.
Kuro could feel his heart pounding through his ribcage. His face heated up with embarrassment and that odd feeling he still didn't know the name of. Staring intently at the tips of his fingers, gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and mumbled, almost whispered, in the most quiet voice imaginable, "Sorry... for making you cry."
His face was glowing. Damn it, communicating his feelings was hard. Showing his weaknesses was hard. And even now that he'd said it out loud, he didn't know if Mahiru had even caught the words. Part of him hoped he hadn't.
A warm hand gently came to rest on his head, lightly ruffling his hair. "No problem," Mahiru said, and Kuro didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling. "I just got too emotional, you know. It's just... I'm an orphan too, so maybe that's why you moved me so much."
Kuro raised his head, blinking at him incredulously. "You... too?"
"Yeah." Mahiru gave him a lopsided smile. "My mother died in a car accident when I was in first grade."
Kuro stared at him and couldn't believe it. This guy, who was so happy and hardworking and energetic and had so much to give, had lost his mother when he was still a kid? That must have been horrible. It must have been even worse than not knowing your parents at all, having a loving parent and then losing them at a tender age, without any warning.
How could Mahiru still be so nice and outgoing and optimistic after a fate like that?
He didn't say any of that out loud, of course. The only thing he did say was, "And your dad?"
"Don't know him." Mahiru shrugged. "Maybe he died. Maybe he's still out there somewhere and doesn't even know I exist. Mom rarely ever talked about him." He smiled lightly as a memory seemed to cross his mind. "I mostly grew up with my uncle."
Kuro gave a slight nod. So that was why Mahiru was still like that despite being an orphan. He'd still had a relative who had taken him in and kept him around and raised him. He'd still been loved. He'd still lived a normal life. For some reason Kuro couldn't help feeling a little jealous.
"I didn't really expect him to take me in," Mahiru continued, his eyes darkening at another memory filling his head. "When Mom died, I didn't really have anywhere to go. All her friends and relatives kept making excuses why they couldn't take me in... they were all hoping someone else would do it." He closed his eyes, frowning, trying to shake off the painful memory.
Kuro knew exactly what he was feeling right now. The fear, the abandonment, the feeling of being unwanted - he knew all that too well. And Mahiru had gone through it too, once. Not dozens of times like Kuro had, but once had been enough. He wouldn't even wish that one time on him.
Finally Mahiru's face relaxed, lighting up again ever so slightly. "And then that someone appeared. They all kept saying my uncle couldn't do it because he was always so busy with work, but we somehow got it all figured out anyway. Even though he had the most reasons to make an excuse... he didn't. Because someone had to help me out, and nobody else wanted to." He smiled. "He's been my role model ever since. I also... wanna become that someone that keeps showing up when nobody else wants to do something. The someone that keeps stuff going, you know?"
He looked so happy, so serious, so incredibly genuine that Kuro almost couldn't resist the urge to ruffle his hair. "So that's why you're such a workaholic."
"Shut up! I just wanna help, okay?"
Kuro sighed, but there was no annoyance or exhaustion in it. So he and Mahiru actually had a little in common. And Mahiru's attitude suddenly made a lot of sense. He'd been met with kindness and selflessness, and now he was trying to give kindness and selflessness back to the entire world. It was still stupid - after all, there were so many people out there who didn't deserve it - but it was somehow understandable.
Maybe... just maybe, if Kuro had been brought up like this, would he have ended up becoming like Mahiru too?
Oh well, it was just a thought. Probably not. That would've been way too troublesome.
It was late in the evening when Mahiru left Kuro's room. Their study session had continued for a long while, and time had passed faster than he could express his surprise at it. It was high time to go to sleep, or else he'd be tired tomorrow.
So, naturally, he didn't expect to run into anyone in the hallway at this hour.
Literally.
He staggered back, putting out his arms to steady himself, and looked right into Hyde's equally puzzled face. The other had just emerged from Licht's room and run smack into him, obviously in a hurry.
"Sorry," he said breathlessly, without the usual energetic tone. "Is the nurse's office still open?"
