scars3
Scars - 3

"It's a long story," he started, his voice not as controlled as normal. Mitsuru inched his chair a little closer, ready to embrace his roommate if he did something so out of character as starting to cry.

"I'm listening," he said gently, waiting. He was a bit proud that his hunches had been right, but not glad of the consequence.

Shinobu took a deep breath, steadying himself. He would be calm. He would focus. That was the past. This was now. He schooled his eyes to rest on Mitsuru's chin, not daring to rise above that. Above that chin were lips, soft pink lips, delicate, warm…

Stop that, he hissed at himself, and refocused on Mitsuru's chin. But the jerk back to the present had been needed.

He flipped his left arm over, resting it in his lap, shifting his gaze downward. "I was twelve." Well. It was a start.

Mitsuru nodded encouragingly, his light eyes never leaving his usually-stoic roommate's face. This was something comparable to opening a treasure box that no one had ever seen before… "Go on, Shinobu."

He felt trapped. He had to tell Mitsuru this, but he did not want to. Denial was so much easier when one only had oneself to lie to.

This was where it would come out. This was where Mitsuru would find out his great secret, the one his family had pleaded with him to change. This was the point that Mitsuru would refuse to ever again be in his company. An emotion coursed through him suddenly, one that he hadn't felt since his father had discovered him.

Fear.

Warm hands encased his and he realized with a pang that they had been shaking. Mitsuru was watching him worriedly, that kindness glimmering from his gentle eyes. He deserved to know, even if it killed Shinobu.

Which, of course, it had the potential to do.

No, that thinking was silly; he was over that. He took a slow deep breath and tried to start again, praying that Mitsuru would not hate him.

"My father found me kissing another boy."

There. Flat-out. He had said it.

The proverbial ball was in Mitsuru's court now.

The hands tightened slowly around his and he looked up. Mitsuru was still watching him, his facial expression unchanged. "Go on," he urged again quietly.

Shinobu had not been prepared for this. Acceptance? Where was the condemnation? The disgust? The look on his face that meant he would despise Shinobu forever?

But there was none of this, only a deep desire to understand.

So Shinobu cracked slightly. "I… don't know what to say…" Why wasn't Mitsuru looking at him with that disgust in his eyes?

Mitsuru studied him silently a moment, somewhat worried, then shifted his fingers away from Shinobu's hand till one finger rested on the inside of his faintly scarred right forearm. "Why did you do this then?"

Shinobu's eyes rested on the gentle finger. Why indeed? Escape? Cowardice? Desperation? "Because… I can never be what my family wants." His gaze raised to the face of his roommate, a bit hesitantly.

Amethyst eyes met his and Mitsuru nodded slightly. "You felt you disappointed them, so you had to make up for it?"

Slowly, Shinobu nodded back, then paused a moment. "It's not just that… I failed them." Failed was an understatement.

Mitsuru frowned faintly. "You didn't live up to their expectations."

"Yes."

"So you tried to kill yourself?"

"It was more than that." Shinobu's voice took on an almost hostile tone. "They were always telling me I was wrong… The only good thing I could do was schoolwork… so that's all I did… everything I did was wrong… and then after there were hospitals, so many hospitals… "

The frown lining Mitsuru's face increased a bit, as did his grip on Shinobu's hands. "They put you in hospitals?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Why?"

Shinobu thought that should have been obvious. "Because there was something wrong with me."

There was certainly a darkness about Mitsuru's face now. "Shinobu… do you really believe that?"

Another pause. Shinobu was at a loss. He had never considered this before. "I don't know…"

"Well, you shouldn't," Mitsuru said firmly, voice emphatic. "There's nothing wrong with you at all. Do you understand?"

Shinobu wondered vaguely if Mitsuru truly meant that. It was surreal, this absolute acceptance the other boy was giving him. He simply nodded, unable to come up with a better response. What would Mitsuru say if he told him everything? It would be almost funny to watch the look of sheer horror traverse his eyes.

Mitsuru squeezed his hands one last time before he let them go. "Is that all? Everything?" He was quite sure he'd get the full version out of him later, when he was calmer.

Everything? Shinobu froze. What was Mitsuru asking of him? "What… do you mean?"

"Is that everything you were hiding from me?" The complete sheen of innocence that nearly sparkled from the other boy's countenance was remarkable.

There was a silence for a moment, harsh to Shinobu's ears. The world had shattered at his feet like a cheap glass trinket. He was standing in the pieces and they were cutting his feet. "No…"

Mitsuru looked up at him, bright eyes glimmering. So naïve. Was Shinobu really about to destroy this soft purity? "No?"

He was blind. The glass that had cut his feet had somehow also destroyed his vision. There was only blackness and the tightening in his stomach and Mitsuru's damnably beautiful eyes. Or maybe he was drowning. That would account for the blackness. He was suffocating in space, and Mitsuru's eyes were the last stars he would see.

"I love you."