When he was younger, Kousaku always thought leaving home would feel like liberation. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the small town he lived in, no. Contrarily, he loved it. He'd made good friends with the other locals, and his mom made a good living there. It had a charm he could admire, in the aging buildings and the way everyone knew each other. The closeness of a small town couldn't be argued.
His mind though always thought of leaving as a jump into the ocean, rather than a bird freed from a cage. It was so foreign and vast to him, a bountiful treasure trove of knowledge. He'd daydreamed so many times about graduating high school and going to a nice college in Tokyo or Osaka. The large cities, so different from his home, could very well shape him into a completely different man. He could grow there, make his mom proud and prove himself more than his father could have ever wished for. Or maybe his time there would be temporary, and he'd go back home to live near his friends and Mom. Either way, it was a dream he'd harbored happily for so long.
No matter his dreams, they crumbled like dust under the loss. He looked down at the train ticket in his hand, trying to still his shaking palms. He couldn't fight it, staring at his dreams twisted by their fruition so easily.
--
The day Kousaku lost his mother was the hardest he'd ever known. Oh he'd known the day was coming. She'd only gotten sicker and sicker. He could still recall her abating his worry with claims of a stomach bug, or that she hadn't slept right. He'd known though, from the sounds of her retching in the odd hours of the night to the addition of the cane at her side. The day he found the prescription order was just the confirmation. That night, he'd looked it up, specialty pain meds for specific treatments. While he may have known something was wrong, nothing could prepare him to learn his mother had started chemotherapy.
The following months felt like he was watching a flower wither. The beautiful woman he knew became thinner and sicker. Her movements were slow and painful. He did his best to ignore how little she ate or how winded she was after short walks. She tried to put on a strong face every day, claiming she was starting to feel better. But he'd known. She'd spent lots of time on the phone with lawyers and doctors, conversations he couldn't bear to hear. For himself, every day was a struggle. His grades slipped and his friends only became more and more worried. Some days he never showed up, though the teachers didn't say a word about it. How could he hope to keep focused on something so trivial like school next to his own mother's suffering?
The day she passed was the hardest he'd ever known. He remembered her still looking as beautiful as he could ever remember, even in her state of sickness. Other men stood around the room, talking softly; acquaintances of her's, she'd said.. The doctor mentioned how they'd done everything they could, but there was just nothing else to try. Through it all, she smiled, like they weren't discussing her passing.
He swore to keep strong for her, to face the day without a tear leaving his eyes. She brought him close to her, taking his hand in hers. Her grip was barely there, like petals falling onto his palm.
"Kousaku," she said in a voice barely above a whisper, the smile never leaving her lips, "Kousaku, know you've already made your mom so very proud, my sweet boy. I know it'll be hard without me, but we can't stop fate."
He didn't know what to say, no words seemed to fit what was happening. He swallowed, trying to push the tears and emotions back down beneath the surface. He would be strong. He looked into the soft chocolate eyes of his mother, the love there so apparent.
"I've arranged everything for you, I'll make sure you're cared for when I'm gone." Her eyes filled with warmth at her next words, "You'll go to Tokyo, staying with an old friend of mine. Just know wherever you go, whatever you do, I'll love every bit of you. My sweet little Koko…"
He couldn't have held in tears no matter how hard he tried.
--
The days after her passing were a blur, the people fulfilling her wishes passing around him like a river flows around a stone. Each day felt like another without hope, each one a step closer to despair. But he'd agreed to his mothers wishes, that drive numbing the pain, making the burden easier to bear. His transcripts had been sent, his items moved. Everything needed was done. So Kousaku sat in his now empty childhood home with the last of his possessions next to him. His clothes were packed in his bags and all that was left out were three small items: the train ticket, a letter his mother told him to give to a man named Ibari Oozora, and a photo of him and his mom when he was just a toddler.
His thoughts of the past were broken by the honking of a cab outside. He wiped his eyes quickly, slinging his backpack on his shoulder and pulling the suitcase behind him.
"Right here!" he shouted, striding out the door. He waved at the cab, doing his best to offer a friendly smile.
The driver was kind enough to help him load his bags. With one last look at the house, he stepped into the car, silently sending his goodbyes to everything he'd known. In a way, it felt like a weight left his shoulders, to say goodbye to it all.
In what felt like no time at all, he found himself aboard the train to Tokyo, his personal bags seated next to him. The scenery passed in soft flashes of color, sunset illuminating the beautiful landscape of Japan in soft warm light. A deep breath left his lungs, the tightness in his chest loosening just a fraction. He thought upon this trip again, and a small smile formed. In a way, making him leave his home was the best decision his mom could have made. Memories of her clung to every surface of the town like cobwebs. Pieces of her on the bench by the park, in the smells of the local bakery, in the noise of the arcade. Yet by her sending him away, he could be free from it, not trapped with reminders of her around every corner. She really had thought of everything.
His eyes glanced down at the letter in his hands. Even in sickness, his mother's handwriting was something akin to calligraphy. Kousaku softly ran a finger across the name written on the light blue paper. Whoever this Ibari Oozora was, Kousaku's fate rested in his hands now. He knew from the bottom of his heart his mother would never do anything that would lead to his harm, so he could trust Ibari must be a good man. Maybe he was an older gentleman, a professor from her time at college! He smiled at the thought, for all it's worth, this could end up being a learning experience to help him grow as a man in society.
"Tokyo, next stop Tokyo!" the loudspeaker rang out, Kousaku starting at the words. He stood, pulling his backpack onto his shoulders and stuffing the letter into a pocket of his coat.
As the doors opened, he grabbed his suitcase and stepped off the train, instantly assaulted by the cacophony of sound on the platform. He winced at a train horn and looked around the busy station. Tokyo station was made of beautiful brickwork, the large platforms filling the space with a mix of classic western elements and modern design. Business men pushed past Kousaku on the platform, chattering away on their phones; his eyes caught lovers reuniting, kissing one another in greeting. The entire atmosphere was hectic, crowded, and overwhelming. Yet over the din of everything a voice called out to him.
"Kousaku! Kousaku Sakamoto!" came the gruff voice of a man. Kousaku began pushing his way through the crowd, grimacing at the jostling and contact. The sight that greeted him could at best be called mildly peculiar. At worst, it was so ridiculous it may have been fiction.
A pair of men held a sign aloft in the air, clearly reading "welcome to Tokyo, Kousaku Sakamoto". While the sign itself may have been much, the men themselves were much more noteworthy. Both were huge, towering over 6 feet in height. Each one wore a well tailored suit, showing off the bulk of their form. Everything about them, from the sharp faces with scars, to the muscular form and suits screamed Mobster, with a capital M.
In front of the two stood one last man, much shorter and smaller than the other two. He seemed to radiate danger, like a serpent ready to strike. He had a thick mustache and curly black hair atop his head, crows' feet tickling along the edge of his deep brown eyes. Even in his middle age, his presence demanded attention. Like the two men behind him, a suit adorned his body, his left open in a nearly haphazard way. The tie was loose around his neck, the first button of the blood red shirt undone. In the shadows of that collar, Kousaku could just make out the lining of a tattoo. The expression he wore could have crushed marble from the sheer intensity.
There must have been some mistake, Kousaku thought, a smile flitting nervously across his lips. Yet as he considered leaving, the man's brown eyes locked on his hazel ones. Recognition flicked across his face, and emotions Kousaku couldn't quite place showed across the surface. Just as quickly, they were gone. What was left behind was a friendly smile that transformed the man's demeanor. The dragon-like presence was no more, in its place stood an otherwise unassuming individual.
"Kousaku! I was beginning to think you'd missed the train!" the man laughed, smiling brightly at him.
Still with some trepidation, he approached the group. A hesitant, if friendly expression found its way to his face as he held out his hand to the man.
"Er- I'm sorry if this seems rude, but have we met?" he asked
The man reached out, shaking his hand in an eye-wateringly tight grip. Kousaku couldn't help but wince under the assault, flexing his hand after it was freed. The man's reply came out much more somber than before, eyes focusing somewhere in the past.
"Ah, I can understand why you wouldn't recognize me… That day was very painful for both of us, I'm sure." He shifted, his expression morphing to something akin to pain.
Kousaku's eyes widened a fraction, the memory coming back to him. He didn't know this man, not really, but he'd seen him once before in Hospice. The day of his mother's passing.
"I'm sorry, I can't say I remember that day with too much clarity," Kousaku mumbled, "Can I presume you're Ibari Oozora?"
Ibari nodded, a shadow of the smile returning, "Let's get you somewhere outside of all this hubbub, shall we? I imagine you're tired from such a long trip."
"A little sir." Kousaku admitted.
Ibari started walking and Kousaku went to follow.
"Oi! Idiots! Get your hands off each other's balls and grab his bags!! Use the goddamn brains stuck between your ears for once." his gruff tone punctuated the sentence, verging on shouting.
The two men scrambled into action, all but ripping the bags off Kousaku despite his protests. As they made their way through the atrium, he did his best to not get distracted by all the sites and sounds. The domed roof was bathed in the soft orange of sunset, glimmering off the glass. He was led outside to a black foreign car. As they approached, one of the men opened the rear door for him, letting both Kousaku and Ibari inside. They stowed his luggage and hopped in the front seats. As the engine roared to life, Kousaku began the last leg of his journey.
"So tell me about yourself Kousaku," Ibari spoke up after a few minutes on the road, his voice deep and rich, "The only thing I really knew was you are Harue's son. Do you play any sports? What do you aim to do after you finish high school?"
It took Kousaku a minute to formulate his words, thinking how to answer the intimidating man. He cleared his throat, replying with a faintly wavering voice.
"W-well, I'm in my freshman year of high school as you may know. At least at my old school, I didn't play anything outside of a casual game of tennis with my old best friend. I haven't really considered a specific career for after high school. Honestly I'm not certain," he laughed nervously, "the town I'm from was quite small, so I haven't had a chance to explore. If I'm honest, my mind has been too preoccupied to think about it recently."
Silence reigned for a minute before Kousaku spoke up again, pulling the letter from his pocket, "Ah, I believe my mom left this for you. I was meaning to ask you sir, how did you know her?"
Softly taking the envelope, Ibari sat back in the seat, relaxing into the fine leather. He tucked the soft blue letter into a pocket of his suit with the delicacy of an artist. His hand came up, smoothing down his mustache; the other pulled behind his head.
"Harue and I met each other in our youth. See, she was at college in southern Kyoto and I happened to be there on, well…" He trailed off his words, gesturing around the car vaguely, "business, of sorts."
Kousaku waited patiently for him to continue. Ibari readjusted himself in the seat, propping his legs up on the headrest of the chair in front of him. If the man seated there minded, he didn't say a word about it.
"We ran across one another at a bar. She was there for drinks, me for work. It was the first day I ever failed to follow through with a job, and I say it was because I couldn't bring myself to spoil her good night. Instead of handling things, I ended up grabbing a drink with her, and the rest is history. To summarize, how do we say…" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, "while fleeting, our relationship was the plain definition of the love of youth."
The tender moment from Ibari was broken by the snickering of the driver. Kousaku's interest in the conversation turned to blood-chilling terror as Ibari pulled a revolver from his jacket. The man's expression spoke of fury; in the moment, he pulled himself upright and between the front two seats. The weapon glinted in the sun, pointing directly at the driver's head. In the now silent car, the cocking of the hammer was as loud a wardrum. Kousaku flinched, moving away from the man. Fury seemed to boil off him like heat waves.
In a low, quiet voice, Ibari spoke.
"Do you find something amusing about my comment, Sabu?" the driver shook his head, sweat dripping from his brow, "Good. I don't remember hiring you to think, do you?" another shake. Kousaku tried to push himself further into the doorway, oh please, oh god, please don't let him witness a murder on his first day in Tokyo…
"Then do us all a favor and don't, unless you'd like to lose the ability to." The dangerous tone was punctuated by the click of the hammer falling, brought to a close slowly by Ibari's thumb. With a huff, and the man slid back against the seat again, his expression softening to annoyance. He glanced over at Kousaku.
"Sorry about that, most of my… workers.. have better manners than this dipshit," he said, "Or at least they have a better sense of self preservation.."
His words had tapered off to a cold mutter. Kousaku slowly readjusted himself in the seat after Ibari re-holstered his gun. He didn't know what to say after such a display. He'd suspected the guys were Yakuza, but well, it was different to know it than to see proof of such a thing.
"So um… " tried Ibari again. The man looked sheepish, like a dog who'd been caught digging. A nervous smile had surfaced on his face, looking out of place on the man. Kousaku sighed, he'd have to get used to it eventually. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go after all.
"It's," he paused, "It's fine, just shocked me is all! Ha ha… I didn't even know firearms like that were legal here!" he said
The two men in front of him stiffened at his comment and then his mistake hit him, eyes turning back to Ibari. For his part, the man relaxed back in his seat, both hands behind his head.
"A life lesson if I can teach you?" he offered in that deep voice of his, leaning closer to Kousaku "some laws only apply if you get caught." He grinned in a conspiratorial way.
Kousaku couldn't help but laugh nervously, the ridiculousness of the situation not lost on him. He offered only a shrug of his shoulder in acknowledgment. He looked to his hands, stilling the nervous shake he found there.
"Is the school near here good?" he blurted suddenly, trying to not overthink about the fact his new guardian was likely a crime lord.
Ibari looked happy, almost smug.
"It's one of the best," He spoke in that gruff tone, shaking his mustache slightly with each word, "Many of my kids actually go there, so you won't be alone. It would've been hard to transfer you in the middle of spring term like this, but I'm close friends with the superintendent. Every year I've made large donations to the departments, so they're always willing to hear my opinion"
He smiled proudly, met by a somewhat more sedate, lopsided smile from Kousaku. The man could be kind, he supposed, at least to those he liked.
"W-well I appreciate all your help, I look forward to it! I'll do my best to get as good of grades as I did at my old school." he felt a slight pang of sadness at the thought of the friends he hadn't even said bye to, would they be thinking of him come Monday morning? When he was there, he couldn't bear to say goodbye to them, it felt too permanent.
Ibari leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked out the window as he spoke next; his words were thoughtful, calm.
"I'm sure you'll do fine, Kousaku. I can tell a good man when I see one. Where others may flounder, you strike me as a strong swimmer. In a river with a strong current, even no motion forward is progress upstream."
He tilted his head towards Kousaku, giving him a warm smile, "If anything, you could always ask my daughter Tsubame for help. She's excelled in school and is only two grades above you. I'm sure she has some old notes laying around. If not, I guess you could ask my son."
Kousaku's eyes widened at the mention of his children, smiling lightly.
"I didn't know you had a family, sir . What are they like?" he asked.
"I'll tell you later," Ibari said, looking away from his young charge, "We're nearly to the house."
It was his comment that drew Kousaku's eyes to their new surroundings. The high rises had been replaced with smaller, tasteful homes of beautiful quality. They passed many before coming to a stop at a large traditional house. Soft white walls lined the property, well maintained hedges surrounding it. The neighborhood itself seemed so comfortable.
As he exited the car, Kousaku honestly wouldn't have believed this house to be a mob den were it not for the sign "Oozora Mob, Oozora clan residence". He thanked Sabu for opening the door for him, walking around to the trunk to grab his bags.
"Oh stop being silly Kousaku!" Ibari spoke up, laughing, "Let my men grab it for you. Come rest inside for some time! Seiji! Take Kousaku here to the third meeting room, and bring him some tea.
As the gates opened and Kousaku got his first look at the estate, he couldn't hide the surprise on his face. Workers in the garden and different men walking around greeted Ibari with bows, as though he were a lord.
"This way, Kousaku."
The passenger in the car walked up next to Kousaku, gesturing towards the home. They walked in awkward silence, Kousaku merely taking everything in. To call the estate a home was to call a tsunami a wave. While it may be true, he knew that calling it a home just didn't do it justice.
The home was laid to surround the garden in the middle, a long porch overlooking it from three sides. It was a traditional structure, with high roofs and beautiful walls made of a mix of wood and paneling. A pair of sculptures lay as the centerpiece in the garden; one took the form of a sleeping fox, the other a smoothed monolith of stone with the family name carved into the face.
As they walked up the path, the gravel crunched under his feet. The sound of running water accompanied it, emanating from a pond near the east entrance. Some of the men stopped to look at him, his streetwear and young age making him stand out like a sore thumb. Seiji led the way up, stopping to take off his shoes. After mirroring the gesture, Kousaku stepped into the house proper for the first time. The faint smell of pine hung in the air, along with something savory cooking further in. He held his shoes in his hand, padding quietly behind Seiji's heavy footfalls.
Kousaku internally screwed up his courage, speaking up.
"Seiji, um, how did you come to know Ibari?" he asked timidly.
He regretted it instantly when the giant of a man turned his gaze to him. He was tall, easily over six feet. His sharp hair accentuated the wide, strong face it was seated on. He was clean shaven with dark shades he had yet to take off, and the suit seemed to hug his massive, muscular form. He regarded Kousaku in silence.
"Ibari helped me when I was in a bad place, helped make me the man I am," he said, his heavy, deep voice filling the hallway as they walked. He continued after a beat.
"I know it may look bad from an outsider's perspective, but this organization is family. We're a bunch of misfits who chose to carve our place in this world instead of accepting being at the bottom of the barrel."
Seiji's words held some veneer of emotion, and Kousaku silently pondered them. Maybe he shouldn't judge them so fast. He cleared his throat.
"So is there anything you miss about not being Yakuza?" he asked, emboldened by the open response.
The laugh that came out of Seiji didn't line up with his body. It was much, much higher than Kousaku expected. His eyes swam with humor as he answered, "The only thing I can think of would be not being able to go to bathhouses."
He pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a tattoo on his forearm. It brought a smile to Kousaku's face, seeing the otherwise serious man so jovial.
"Well," continued Seiji, "Just step in here. Mr. Oozora will be along shortly. Don't leave until requested unless you want to get shot."
Kousaku laughed, hoping it was a joke. The door was closed behind him as he stepped into the room. It was a spacious area well lit by natural light. The tatami floors and paper walls left it no quieter than the rest of the house, the din of muted conversation audible. The space was quite spartan, decorated by a few simple tapestries and a set of blades on a small stand. In the center of the room sat a low table. He walked across the floor softly, sitting at the chabudai.
A few minutes passed in relative silence. His mind was preoccupied by the absolute hurricane of a situation he now found himself in. He knew his mom would never seek to hurt him, and the interactions with these men seemed to agree. What if he was to be like Seiji or Seiji? Would Ibari expect him to join the Mob? Sweat built on his brow with the thought that crossed his mind. He jumped in his chair when the door opened, Seiji entering with those same heavy steps. In his hands rested a tea tray, looking tiny in his massive palms. He approached the table with confident strides.
"I thought it'd be polite to offer tea while you wait." He intoned, his face a heavy mask of neutrality.
"Ah…" stuttered Kousaku, trying not to dwell on his thoughts, "Yes that sounds wonderful, thanks so much"
Seiji nodded and poured him a glass, the amber liquid faintly steaming in the light. Seiji stood from his kneeling position, taking the pot and tray with him.
"It shouldn't be too much longer, thank you for your patience."
Kousaku gave a slight nod of his head, offering a crooked smile to the man. The door closed behind him, and the silence of the room fell into place. For some time Kousaku focused on the glass, still softly streaming in the evening sun. They wouldn't poison him would they? Would there even be a point? He was in the heart of the lion's den, so to speak. He shrugged his shoulders, settling on the thought that if they wanted to hurt him, there's many easier ways. He picked up the glass.
The tea was searing hot, scalding his tongue and throat. He cursed softly to himself. Glaring at the offending mug, he set it down and fanned his mouth, hoping to alleviate the pain there. Fuck, that hurt. The other wall opened, catching him in the act of waving his fan in front of his face like a lunatic. Great, just what he needed.
The girl who entered left little room for him to think of such trivial things. He sat there, mouth agape as she glanced around the room, her eyes settling on him.
Oh those eyes, they were dangerous. The color reminded him of rich chocolate, full and bright. They sparkled with something close to amusement as they watched him. His heart thudded heavily in his chest. She was, in simple words, beautiful. Her outfit was Chic and stylish. A simple white sweater paired well with the burgundy skirt she wore, her neck hidden by a red silk scarf. Her hair cascaded around her face in blonde tresses. And her face, oh gods above. She was beautiful enough to leave Kousaku forgetting exactly where he was for a moment. The soft pink lips he found his eyes drawn to open in a small smile.
She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. The soft sound of the wood sliding was the only sound outside the beating of his heart. He gave a smile, feeling it nervously pull at his face.
"E-er, hi," he spoke, feeling his cheeks warm when his voice cracked, "is there something I can help you with?"
She stepped forward, walking across the tatami in silent motions to the chabudai. She sat down adjacent to him, close to his left side.
"No, you've already provided everything I need." she gave a playful smile, "I borrowed something of my sister's. She's quite cross with me you see, so I'm hiding from her."
Kousaku laughed, sounding nervous to his ears, "Sibling's are like that, I've heard. Always getting into fights,"
"So you're an only child, I see. So what are you doing in my house mystery boy?" She asked, voice lilted with light amusement.
It wasn't something Kousaku had thought about for a long time, siblings. His mother had joked many times in the past about how lucky he was to have her attention on him and him alone, but it may have been nice to have someone else. Hearing stories of siblings growing apart and bickering, it felt so surreal compared to the relationship he'd had with his mom.
He cleared his throat, "Kousaku. My name is Kousaku Sakamoto. And… And I'm here because my mother requested it."
He took a sip from his tea, doing his best to bottle his emotions. A grimace fought to his face at the searing liquid, glaring at the cup as though it'd struck him.
"Well it's very nice to meet you, Kousaku. I'm Hibari," she said, her hands wrapping around his, softly extracting the mug from his hands, "It's nice to know such. It'd be a shame if father inducted such a cute boy like yourself into the clan. Ah, it seems I must apologize, it appears Seiji scalded your tea, hm?"
She said it with soft words, softly swirling the cup in her hands.
"Er- how'd you know it was Seiji?" Kousaku queried, doing his best to not think of the softness of her palms or her teasing words. She laughed again, a bright sound like tinkling wind chimes.
"Seiji always overheats the tea, drives my father crazy," she said, a smile on her face, "No matter how much he's been coached, it always comes out too hot. Father describes him as a blunt tool, you know. Great for breaking down a door, but lacking the finesse for anything delicate."
She blew softly on the mug, steam billowing away with the motion. Kousaku swallowed audibly. It was a silent minute or two before she spoke up again.
"Most of us have gotten into the habit of cooling it off with ice before partaking, though father never learns," She smiled, softly taking a sip in the same place he had. He felt his cheeks heat.
She set the mug down in front of him, the amber liquid dancing with the motion. As she did so, she locked eyes with him, chocolate eyes bright with an emotion he couldn't place. Why did his palms feel so sweaty?
"There, much better." She said brightly, eyes watching him.
He wasn't sure how to respond, eyeing the teacup as though it were a bomb. He wiped his palms on his pants, glancing back up to where her eyes hadn't left his face.
"Do you like it here?" he blurted suddenly, praying for something to say, "as in like here with the mob…" He tried to correct.
She paused, visibly mulling over his words. Leaning forward and resting her face on her hands, she spoke again.
"I'd say you have a bad assumption thinking living amongst Yakuza is bad," she started, "Though to be fair I don't care much for my father's work. It's not that I find it distasteful, mind you, but more the expectations he puts on me."
Her eyes had darkened with the last sentence, and Kousaku couldn't help but speak up again, "W-what kind of expectations?"
At his look of concern, she giggled softly.
"Oh nothing bad! I just have a different picture of myself and my future than he does. He's what you may call a traditionalist, while I myself would say I'm more… free spirited," her lips slidinto a smirk on the last syllable, as though it were an inside joke of some sort, "I guess it's just one of those things old timers will never understand."
Her eyes trailed to the mug in front of him, eyebrow quirking up in an unspoken question. Just what was she playing at? He shifted his position slightly, trying his best not to overthink her action. He lifted the mug to his lips, turning it away from where her lips had sat. As he slowly sipped the now pleasantly warm tea, he felt his face flush at the pleased smile she presented him. He placed the cup down before him.
"I guess we all have different values, and how we were raised changes them, huh?" He asked, a waver in his voice, "I mean I grew up in the countryside, so nearly everything is new here for me. City folk sure do seem to have a different lifestyle than my old town"
The laugh he had died on his lips at the otherwise flat expression she presented. It only lasted a moment longer before disappearing beneath a friendly, if somewhat distant smile.
"Yes, I guess living in the country would leave one with different values. The world must seem so new next to such traditionalism," She picked up his cup, taking a long sip again from where he'd drank, her tongue flicking out to brush the edge of the cup. A smirk crossed her features at his rising blush. She spoke again, confidently.
"Either way, I do hope you can take it in stride. I'll enjoy helping you embrace the changes the world has made around your blind eyes. See you in school, Kousaku." With her last comment, she strode from the room, taking his cup with her. Any words he might have said were hushed by the forceful closing of the door.
It was strange how words spoken with such a kind tone could come across as reprimanding. Had he said something wrong to anger her? Was she prejudiced against people from small towns? She definitely didn't seem mad at the surface, but something had changed. He tried to push the thoughts of Hibari from his mind.
The light in the room had changed during their conversation. The warm vibrance of sunset had begun to dim and grow colder; twilight was starting, it seemed. How long had they been talking? The noise of the house was much quieter now, people must have been going home and prepping for another day. The noises that seemed to fill the place quieted to the occasional footstep and creaking floorboards.
Several more minutes passed before he heard footfalls headed in his direction. The door slid open, Ibari stepping in. Compared to the suit he wore before, his robe he bore now was decidedly simpler. He wore a smile, eyes full of a mix of grief and happiness. It looked foreign on him, so unlike the man in the car.
He spoke up in an even tone, "My apologies for the delay Kousaku, some last minute arrangements had to be made. I'm sure you understand."
Kousaku smiled, trying to put as much pleasantry as he could muster with his mixed emotions.
"It's not a problem at all sir," He said only to be cut off.
"I'm not your 'sir', 'boss', 'Mr.', or otherwise. Only my men call me that. You'll call me Ibari, is that clear?" he grumbled, shooting a small glare at Kousaku, "hearing 'sir' from a kid like you just makes me feel old.."
Kousaku gulped nervously, "R-right, Ibari, It's not an issue at all. I had good company after all."
If anything his answer seemed to add to the growing annoyance of the family head, far from placating him as Kousaku wished. The man's eyes hardened, sweeping over the room.
"Don't tell me Seiji shirked duties today! And did he not bring you tea? He should have brought you tea. Lazy piece of garbage…" He voice dropped deeper, almost like a low growl.
Kousaku stood up promptly, placing his hands up in a sign of surrender.
"N-no! Seiji did exactly as you asked! And I had tea, delicious tea! It was one of your daughters! She just came in to talk to me is all!" he laughed nervously, trying to defuse the tension.
It seemed to do the trick, the scowl on Ibari's face falling back into neutrality.
"I… see," He said softly, "Well I'm glad she was polite to you, enough to clear your dish then. What did you think of her?
He tried not to think of the teacup again, he really did. But he felt his ears heating at the memory of her lips on the mug. It was such a small action! But those chocolate eyes, how could he hope to forget?"
"Um… Kousaku?" queried Ibari, leaning close to his face, "Are you feeling alright?"
Kousaku started with a jolt, his face flushing bright red.
"Ah! Yes I'm fine! Must just be drowsy from the trip is all! Hahah!" he replied nervously. What else was he supposed to say?? 'Sorry sir, I was just daydreaming about your daughter. You know, the really gorgeous one with blonde hair and a smile I can't get out of my head?'. He'd die! Genuinely die! He'd get shot! Murdered! Strung up by his thumbs! Kousaku took a deep breath, trying to ground his rampant emotions, "Er- you were saying something, right sir?"
"Y… Yes, I was," Ibari watched him, suspicion crossing his features, "I was just going to say that I've finished everything needed for the move. It took some work with some of your mother's requests, but she was clear. She wanted the best for you, and what's better than my own home?"
A wide grin split Ibari's face, spreading his arms wide theatrically.
In the awkward silence that followed, it settled on Kousaku that he should respond instead of gawking. He'd be staying here? In the Yakuza clan's headquarters? He smiled nervously.
"T-thank you sir, that means a lot." he said, not certain how much of that he truly meant.
"Well, we're about to sit down for dinner, why don't you join us?" the older man asked, already walking out of the room.
Kousaku rushed to follow, voicing his assent to dinner. They walked along the corridors, turning here and there. Kousaku's thoughts strayed with the journey, mulling over his new life.
It was to be here, amongst Yakuza. It sounded like Ibari wouldn't ask him to join, so that was a relief, but what was mom thinking? She'd sent him into a den of criminals! Thugs! What if a turf war broke out in the home? His mind stopped for a second- Do Yakuza have turf wars? He had no idea.
The optimist in him though wouldn't be quashed. On the other hand, it argued, people like Hibari exist here. Can it really be all bad with such a wonderful girl? Hell, even Seiji seemed nice enough when you got him talking, even if he was extremely intimidating… In the end, he decided he had no choice but to give it a shot, try his best to not judge the man too hard. At the bare minimum, it'd just be for three more years- two and a half, he corrected.
They rounded another corner, the scent of something savory apparent in the air. Ibari opened a door on his left, out of which poured light and warmth like no other. Kousaku smiled, stepping in behind Ibari. The room itself was smaller, a very cozy affair. In the middle sat a mid-sized chabudai. The table was loaded with all sorts of delicious looking food, from Grilled fish to steaming soups. It made his stomach rumble. It was only then that he realized; he hadn't eaten today, at all. In all of the hubbub, he'd forgotten something so simple as dinner.
Besides the food though, another sight caught his eyes. At the table, 3 girls sat at the table, one very impatiently waiting for Ibari.
"Daaaad you took forever to get here! I almost faded away!! All skin and bones!" she pouted, dramatically falling over to the floor.
Ibari laughed, a deep, heavy chuckle. "Oh Suzume, you little rascal! It's barely been 5 minutes. Plus, I needed to fill in our new housemate in on the situation. Come, Kousaku, sit over here next to me."
The man's smile seemed so relaxed and comfortable as he sat down. He gestured to the seat at the right of his. The room seemed so full of love and comfort, like a family should be. A pang of loss stabbed through his heart at the sight. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves before plastering a happy smile on his face. He sat down where requested, offering a small wave to the girl across from him. She looked quite a bit like Hibari, he noticed. Now where was-
"Now before we begin eating, Kousaku, I'd like to introduce you to my three beautiful daughters.'' His words interrupted Kousaku's train of thought, "No pouting! This will just take a minute!"
Ibari directed the look at the youngest again, who appeared to be in the process of sneaking a piece of fish. He gestured to her, sighing dramatically.
"To start from the youngest, that little she-devil is my daughter Suzume. Top of her class already and quite creative to boot. She gets it from her oldest sister." he chuckled at his own joke, the girl in question rolling her eyes at him.
She had faintly auburn hair going down her back a ways, and her eyes held the sharp mischief only children could have. She sat in her seat, bouncing up and down impatiently looking at him before he realized his fault.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said politely, to which she returned the gesture in kind.
"Is it true you're gonna be living with us? Do you like Doraemon? What's the biggest bug you've caught? Don't you agree Seiji would look way less scary if he smiled everywhere he went?"
Her questions came a mile a minute and he couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. He responded kindly.
"I'm sure we'll get time later for you to ask me." Gosh she seemed nice, no wonder Ibari was proud. Her energy was infectious, he felt the warmth fill his heart. Being around all these kind people, no matter the circumstances.
He turned back to Ibari. The man sat sipping on a bottle of Sake. He sat back, a content sigh leaving him.
"Right, and here on my left you have my middle daughter, Tsubame. She's third in her class overall, and is a slotted choice for top universities. You're wanting to do what exactly again dear?" he queried her, "accounting?"
Tsubame laughed at her dad's antics, a reserved smile on her face.
"What my father means to say is I've mentioned an interest in economics or business theory after school. It's nice to meet you, Kousaku. I'm sure we'll get along fine."
Besides the fluffy dark hair and thinner form, the girl could have been a carbon copy of Hibari. From the chocolate eyes to the curve of her nose. Only small differences really separated the two. Like her eyebrows and the way she smiled. She looked friendly, kind, if a bit embarrassed at the attention.
"I'm sure we will," he replied, "It sounds like you have a successful career ahead of you."
"No more than you, I'm sure." she said calmly.
His eyes turned to the last girl in the room, a taller woman with straight, long black hair. Ibari spoke up, cheeks beginning to redden from the alcohol.
"Ah, yes. And that is my eldest daughter, Tsugimi. She's an illustrator now! I'm so proud of our family artist." he said, the endearment clear in his tone.
She smiled and leaned forward, looking him up and down.
"I guess dad sure knows how to pick the cute ones." she said playfully.
He laughed nervously, doing his best to hide his embarrassment.
"Right, um, what led you to illustration?" he asked.
She sighed, visibly disappointed at his lack of reaction. After a second, she spoke.
"Dad helped me get a spot at a great art college, but it wasn't worth its two cents. The only good thing to come was some of my work getting published in their gallery. By the end of the first year I had a few job offers, so I dropped out. It pays well and I like it." She smiled at the memory, "If you'd like I could show you some of my pieces later."
He gave a warm look back, "That sounds wonderful Tsugumi. I can see why Ibari is so proud."
"You're damn right!" came the reply from his left.
Kousaku couldn't help it, he snickered at how ridiculous the stoic man was being.
The meal started happily, chatter from Suzume filling the air. He nodded along and did his best to answer her questions about the countryside, wracking his brain for details. It was a pleasant warm feeling that filled his gut. He was sure the delicious food helped, but the atmosphere itself felt like his soul recharging. Through idle conversation he learned Tsubame cooked the food, wanting to practice for when she finished high school and likely moved out. Seeing her proud smile, something in the back of his head remembered. He turned to Ibari.
"Genuinely sir, thank you for everything. Your hospitality is too much!" he laughed.
The man eyed him, a jovial if albeit mischievous look in his eyes. He set down the now empty bottle, grabbing a second from a place on the table.
"Tell me Kousaku," he said, a roguish grin crossing his face, "do you remember what I said in the car?"
"Er-" I thought back to the trip, the conversation, the gun, and finally his advice. "Do you mean that some laws should be broken if you can't get caught?"
Ibari waved off the words idly, smiling. "Yes, yes. So no one here will snitch. Why not have something to drink to celebrate? It's not every day you move to Tokyo!" He laughed and leaned towards Kousaku.
Kousaku tried not to flinch, nervously chuckling, "Ah, well, I don't care for it sir."
"You don't like Sake?!" was Ibari's incredulous reply. He scratched his chin in thought, "I mean I do have some brandy as well.."
Kousaku desperately fought to change the subject to what he'd remembered.
"Uh, Ibari! I was meaning to ask, where's your fourth daughter, or your son? I haven't seen either during introductions…"
The mood at the table felt awkward with his comment, Tsugumi and Tsubame exchanging meaningful glances while Ibari's expression turned to a grimace. If anything, Suzume looked uncertain why the others seemed upset.
"She must not be in yet!" she chirped, "She likes to take her time."
On cue the door behind him opened, Hibari stepping through. He quickly averted his gaze, remembering their earlier encounter clearly once again. He glanced up when she seated herself next to him. She offered him a small smile when he made eye contact.
"Hello again Kousaku, I see you've met the rest of my family." It was such a genuine tone he couldn't help but smile back. She looked so relaxed, aloof even, pulling a plate towards herself, "I hope I haven't let Suzume bore you too much with her rambling?"
She giggled at the way Suzume puffed out her cheeks, pouting angrily at the accusation. He couldn't help but laugh with her. Why were the other three acting so weird? Hibari leaned over, pinching Suzume's nose in a playful fashion, both giggling at the interaction. He looked over at Tsubame who seemed to watch the interaction with discomfort apparent in her grimace. She met his eyes briefly and quickly looked away. Had he done something? Tsugumi was no clearer, eyes locked on her plate. The tension seemed to build with Hibari unaware, she seemed so nonchalant, like she couldn't see her sisters stewing on something. He tried to break the tension loosely.
"I'm not certain if you heard his announcement, but your father decided I'll be staying here with y'all," he said, turning to look at Hibari.
She smiled widely, nudging his shoulder with her own.
"Yes, I figured. Dad doesn't usually bring home men as young as you so it must have been something special." she slowly placed a hand on his arm, it felt like electricity on his skin, "I don't know what led you to us, but know you'll have someone to listen to should you need it."
The kindness in her eyes was too much, he knew it. He'd fallen for her in the first minute he'd met her. Gods this would make living under the same roof awkward. He nodded, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.
Tsubame spoke up, voice sharp like a whip. "Hibari! Stop teasing him!"
Hibari in turn rolled her eyes, removing her hand from him, "Oh don't be so dramatic. He'd ask me to leave him be if he was uncomfortable, right?"
She shot him a wink and he laughed nervously, scooting away just slightly.
"Don't worry Tsubame," he intoned in a placating voice, giving her a genuine smile, "She isn't bothering me."
She looked pointedly uncomfortable but didn't say a word. The table was quiet for a moment before Ibari spoke up, his voice gruff with displeasure.
"He."
Kousaku turned to him confused, "I'm sorry sir, what'd you say? I wasn't listening, I guess."
Ibari looked up from his plate. His knuckles gripped the stem of his second bottle tightly, knuckles white with exertion. The eyes that locked on the girl next to him were like daggers of steel.
"I said," He intoned dangerously, "He."
Tsugumi gave Ibari a pointed look, "dad-" she started.
"Don't 'dad' me!" Ibari's voice rose, making Kousaku cringe, "I'm not going to lie to my guest about the cross dressing freak sitting next to him. He can lie to the family and at school, but I won't have him deceive any child of Harue, bless her soul."
Kousaku's mind froze, not quite processing the words properly. He turned to Hibari, seeing the pinched look of anger on her face as she glared at her dad. He couldn't help but note the wetness starting in the corners of her eyes.
Wait- was that right? He laughed nervously, talking to Ibari, "Ibari, ahaha, I think maybe you've had a bit too much to drink. You just called your daughter a crossdresser!"
Ibari surged forward, and Kousaku slipped back from the oppressive man. He felt his back push flat against Hibari in the gesture to avoid the raging man, his anxiety spiking.
"Kousaku, do not call that freak my daughter. That boy behind you is the only heir to my family. And he's a cross dressing weirdo! So no, I won't sit here and let him get all cozy with you without you knowing the truth!"
Ibari spat the words like weapons, and Kousaku couldn't decide if they were aimed at him for speaking up, or Hibari. He could feel her- He caught himself, mind reeling at the words. He could feel him shaking against him. He sat up sharply, uncomfortably aware of their proximity now. Hibari was crying, he was crying. He looked at his dad with hate filled eyes before storming from the room. Kousaku tried to breathe.
He had to fight the instincts to follow him. From the uncomfortable look on Tsubame's face, and the furious expression on Tsugumi's, it was true. Fuck. What was he supposed to do with that information?
Tsugumi sat a moment longer before tossing her napkin rather forcefully onto her plate. The look she shot Ibari could have melted stone.
"Father," she said, voice like poison, "I seem to have lost my appetite. May I be excused?"
While her words were spoken as a question, it was clear she didn't mean it as such. She'd already risen to her feet when her father nodded his assent, looking pointedly displeased. Her steps from the room were swift, heading the direction Hibari had left.
With the closing of the door, the room descended once again into silence. The air was thick with tension, like an open wound hanging in the air. For a moment Kousaku considered taking Ibari up on the offer for Sake, just to be able to forget this all had happened. He shook his head, doing his best to clear his thoughts.
Surprising him, Tsubame spoke up.
"I'm sorry about all that, our family, like most, has its quirks." she gave a strained half-smile at him, looking apologetic.
He offered a shrug, "It's," he swallowed thickly, "It's fine. Anyways, um, are you excited for school?"
He knew it was a weak response. But what could he even hope to say? It wasn't fine and he knew that. You didn't just easily recover from finding out the girl you thought was the prettiest you've ever seen was actually a guy. How could he look so pretty? It just didn't make any sense! Did that mean Hibari was gay? Did that mean HE was gay for thinking he was cute? His nervous thoughts were broken when Tsubame answered him.
"As much as any other day I guess. It's stressful, but I know it's good for me. Plus it's nice to socialize with friends." she said, looking visibly relieved by the change in topic.
"That's good.." Kousaku replied.
Suzume looked put out next to them. Like Kousaku, she idly pushed the food around her plate. Honestly, Kousaku didn't have a lot of experience with kids. Should he comfort her?
Ibari stood up, red in the face. His expression looked a mix of embarrassment and indignation. With a slightly stumbled step, he kept himself upright. Through the furrowed eyebrows his eyes seemed to avoid Kousaku. He cleared his throat.
"Kousaku, sorry for the… trouble tonight. I have some business to attend to. Tsubame can show you to your room." he said, speech heavy and faintly slurred.
"Of course, have a good night sir." Kousaku replied. It was no secret the man didn't want to be here any more, and Kousaku didn't feel comfortable disagreeing with him in any way. Ibari took slow strides from the room, deeper into the house. It wasn't long until Suzume offered them a quick goodnight and fled as well, leaving him alone with Tsubame.
She pushed a few strands of hair out of her face, blowing a heavy breath out.
"I really am sorry Kousaku. You're probably already tired, the last thing you need is our family drama," she looked embarrassed, somewhat guilty, "If you're willing to wait a moment, I'll go ahead and clear the table. Then I can take you to your room."
He stood up quickly, "Let me help, it's the least I can do."
From the way her mouth opened quickly he thought she may deny it. She gave him a soft smile instead, nodding.
"Thank you, I appreciate it." she said, voice light.
Together they picked up half eaten plates, serving platters, and glasses. Carrying them into the kitchen, they started to work together to wash them. For such a fine home, the kitchen was quite spartan, simple appliances lining the walls. It had everything someone could want, though many of the models were of earlier years. The room was covered in white subway tile, starkly bright to the hardwood floors of the main house. Tsubame filled a sink and started washing the dishes by hand. He dried each one, setting them on the rack. For the first few minutes, silence reigned. He'd catch her watching him out of the corner of his eye, when she didn't think he was looking.
"You know, you've taken the situation quite well, for someone in your place," She said after some time, "I'm surprised you haven't ran away from here yet."
He gave a weak smile, tired and ready for bed. He took another plate.
"To be honest with you, I almost did." At her questioning look he continued, "Of everything I expected for where my mom wanted me to go, I didn't expect her to send me to a yakuza family. N-not that it's bad!" he said, remembering Hibari's words.
Tsubame offered a polite smile, looking quite shy in her response, "You're more understanding than I expected. To be honest though, I'm glad to have you here. It's nice to have someone normal my age around the house!"
The laugh she gave felt cold in his ears, but he tried to ignore the guilt he felt at her implication. He gave a weak grin in response, "I… I guess so." he tapered off, drying another dish.
It was a short walk from the kitchen to the bedrooms, a walk in which he and Tsubame offered small chit-chat about her hobby of gardening. As they walked past several doors, she stopped him before one of them.
"This one is yours Kousaku, feel free to use it as you like. If you need me for anything, I'm two doors down on the right."
She opened the room, a simple space. For such an elaborate home, it felt, well, homely. The space was no larger than his room back home. It had all the normal things one would expect, a bed, bookshelf, writing desk… It even had a nice window overlooking the street. On one wall he saw sliding doors, likely leading to a closet. Most of his stuff had been unpacked already, though much of the furniture was new for him. The unfamiliar bed in the corner had sheets not his own, but the bookshelf was laid heavy with his mom's collection. On top of the blankets sat his two bags he'd had on the train.
He walked in quietly, not saying a word. From his pocket he withdrew the photo he'd been carrying, gently laying it on the nightstand. This was his new life here, among people he could barely imagine. Is this really what mom wanted? It was all so surreal, this small room felt like a corner of normalcy. Like a safe haven from all the strangeness of the house. From Ibari, The Yakuza, School, Hibari… His mind once again flew back to his first interaction with the boy, still unable to equate what he saw, felt, with what he knew to be true now.
It dawned on him he'd been quiet for some time. He looked back to Tsubame. She still sat in the doorway, just watching quietly.
"Er- sorry. It's very nice. Thank you so much for your hospitality."
She smiled softly, nodding to the photograph.
"Is that her? Your mom?" she asked.
He nodded, and asked the question he still couldn't accept.
"Is it really true? Hibari is a guy?" he hated how his voice wavered with the simple query.
She shifted lightly, resting her head on the door frame.
"I sometimes forget it myself, and I was raised with him."
She sighed, looking past him. A frown pulled her face, making her seem smaller, more drawn in. "I don't really know what caused him to end up this way either. Maybe it was losing mom ten years ago, or maybe it was just being raised around three girls. All I know is one day my sweet little brother started stealing my clothes and demanding we call him a girl. I just don't get it."
Kousaku widened his eyes at the information, shocked that these people had gone through something so similar to himself. It couldn't have been easy to go through for Ibari, raising the four of them all alone.
"I guess that's fair. He seems so nice too…" he said offhandedly.
She gave him an odd look, continuing, "Oh don't let looks fool you. He's a deviant, through and through. I was honestly hoping your masculine presence may help him see the light. Some days I just wish mom were here to straighten him out."
She huffed, pulling herself upright, "Well, sleep well. I'll walk you to school tomorrow so you don't lose your way."
He thanked her and she closed the door behind herself, plunging the space into relative silence. He walked over to the bed, opening one of his bags and beginning to unpack it. He set his toothbrush and toiletries on the nightstand for the morning, stowing his shoes beneath his bed. It was a quiet few minutes as he put keepsakes around the room. His mother's clock he set up on the bookcase, followed by a photo of the three of them; his father, mother, and himself.
The photo had mixed memories. When she was still here, she'd told him his father was a good man who was struggling and needed time away. In her words, the divorce wasn't pleasant, but he'd made it simple. His father had never come to visit after he turned nine, all of Kousaku's memories of him now nothing more than blurs of a smiling face. He laid a hand on the frame, eyeing the photograph. His father held his mom around the waist, hoisting a three year old Kousaku on his shoulders. They looked so happy.
It took him a moment to realize he was crying. He hiccuped, feeling a sob clench at his chest. He wiped his eyes aggressively, burying the emotions deeper into himself. He'd promised mom he'd be strong.
Taking a step away from the bookcase, he turned back to the bed. A foreign bed with foreign sheets that he didn't know, in a city he only dreamed of seeing. He was in a house of strangers, in the middle of the mob. And tomorrow it'd be a school full of gawking kids scaring at the new boy arriving late in term. He felt the pull again, the tight knot of pain curling within him. Another tear swept down his cheek, trailing wet streaks down his face. He sat down on the ground heavily, finally giving in.
The first wracking sob to leave him was heavy, loud, almost painful. The knot pulled free ripped through him like a bowstring. The tears turned to heaving breaths, snot dripping from his nose. He hated it. Hated feeling so helpless and out of place. He hated losing his composure, he had to make her proud.
He flinched away heavily from an arm that had laid gently on his shoulder, but gave in when he was pulled into a hug. Soft hands gently rubbed circles into his back, a gentle voice whispering it'd be alright. He couldn't say how long he stayed like that, being held by the kind person across from him. All he knew was that his hyperventilated breaths started to slow, the tears decreasing back down to a trickle.
He looked up through watery eyes for the first time in minutes, seeing who had come to his comfort. He couldn't say whether it was a surprise or not that the person helping him was Hibari. She did seem quite kind.
"Are you feeling any better?" she asked, voice still in that soothing tone. While she wore a mask of comfort, he could see shards of worry in her eyes. He blinked, remembering dinner. He. This wasn't a girl. He. Him. A man.
He pressed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the soft scent of her hair, like lilacs and cardamom. God, what was wrong with him?
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you." He hadn't meant for his words to sound so sharp. He knew Hibari was just trying to help, but the emotions were such a mess right now.
She released his shoulders, lips thinning in annoyance. A hand smoothed down her nightgown Kousaku now noted she was wearing. He really did try not to see him as cute. Really. Kousaku's eyes were drawn to the patch of wet on the fabric, flushing when he realized it was from him.
"Does it really disappoint and bother you that much?" she asked finally, all softness gone from her voice.
It bothered him, this man putting him on the spot.
"What am I supposed to say?" He finally responded, using the veneer of frustration to mask embarrassment, "Look, I just don't get it, and I don't bat for the same team, alright? I'm fine."
He shook his head, eyeing Kousaku like a child throwing a tantrum.
"You know, accepting help from," Hibari's face turned distasteful, "a freak doesn't make you one."
Kousaku pushed himself away, taking a deep, steadying breath. He looked away, trying to avoid noticing the hurt in Hibari's eyes, or the delicate way he sat.
"Look," he ground out, avoiding the other boy's gaze, "I'm sorry for my bad reaction. I don't… I don't think you're a freak, alright? It's just all so weird. I mean one minute I think you're a beautiful, thoughtful girl flirting with me, the next I find out your the cross-dressing heir of a Yakuza clan! It's just all too much."
The air was quiet for a minute, Kousaku staring at the ground he was kneeling upon. He looked up at the person across from him, noting with shock the soft blush cresting Hibari's cheeks. No, no no no. This wasn't going to happen. Hibari did not just take his apology as a compliment. He swallowed thickly.
Hibari spoke up softly.
"It's a matter of perspective then, isn't it?" At Kousaku's confused frown, he continued, "You and father view me as a man, perverted and dressing like a woman. While I know I'm a woman, cursed to be stuck the way I am."
If anything, his words just confused Kousaku more.
"What does that even mean? A cross-dresser isn't a woman Hibari! They're a guy in women's stuff!"
Hibari shook his head at the explanation, his soft blonde hair shimmering in the light. His chocolate eyes focused back on Kousaku. An almost amused, tired expression on his face.
"Kousaku, I really am not in the mood to hash this out with you right now. Just know I respect and care about you, even if we did just meet today." he sighed softly, resting his face on his palm, "Look, can we just go back to how it was before dinner? I want to be nice to you, but I need us to see each other peer to peer; I can't have you treating me like a freak."
His words weren't sharp, but definitely reprimanding. Kousaku cleared his head the best he could, trying to not look at the distressingly cute person before him. Respect. He could do respect. They'd both been embarrassing after all. He'd broke down like a baby for no good reason and Hibari was a cross dresser. He nodded once, looking away from Hibari.
"I… I can try. I'm sorry, I can't promise more. I just, this is a lot." he finished lamely.
Hibari smiled softly, the warmth reaching his eyes this time.
"That's all I'll ask. Back to how we were before then."
He grinned wickedly, darting forward and planting a kiss on Kousaku's cheek. Before the blush even hinted on his face Hibari was up and walking away, to the door Kousaku presumed was a closet.
When Hibari reached the frame, he glanced back at Kousaku, winking. "My room is connected to yours, so don't be afraid to come over should you want anything. See you in the morning!"
Not a guy. Not a guy. Not a guy. He barely noticed the door closing, the mantra playing over and over in his head. He'd barely just met Hibari, but Kousaku knew the girl (boy! He reminded himself,) would be the death of him. Just what would mom think of him getting so flustered over someone like Hibari?
Kousaku decided it must be his jarring emotions with the move, it'd get better. He got up, rubbing his eyes clear of the residue from the breakdown. Things would be better in the morning; he'd be stronger, make himself a place in this new school.
His eyes went back to the door between their rooms, hand coming up to touch his cheek. He was a cross-dresser. A really gorgeous cross-dresser who didn't look nor sound like a boy in any way. That was it. Not a big deal. Admittedly Kousaku didn't have any experience with someone like this, but his mom taught him to not push someone away for being different, so maybe that didn't mean he couldn't be the boy's friend. He shook his head once, trying to empty the thoughts of Hibari plaguing him.
He swiftly undressed down to his underwear. When pulling off his pants, the sound of crinkling paper caught his attention. He reached in his pocket, pulling out the crumpled train ticket from today. He sighed, deciding to set it with the photo of mom on his nightstand. What was the old saying she'd taught him? When one door closes, another opens? He smiled, sitting down on the bed. Maybe this unbelievable situation would be the thing to help shape him into the man mom always wanted him to be.
The bed was surprisingly soft, gently caressing him as he lay down. It made sense in a way he thought, crime would pay for luxuries like this. In a way though, he missed his futon he had back home. It was lumpy, always too warm on the right side, and a pain to put away in the morning. It had a unique smell, like the flax seed his mom used in her projects. At the end of the day though, it felt and smelled like home.
He pulled the blanket up to his chin, trying to relax into the down pillow. The foreign smell of the bedspread was strange for him, a unique mix of lilac with hints of cardamom. As his mind drifted off, he couldn't place where he knew it, but appreciated it nonetheless. Maybe this scent would be his new flax seed, his new home. He breathed deeply, falling into the land of Hypnos, thoughts of the day melting away in a slew of lilac fields and chocolate eyes.