What If?
Chapter 4- Crushes and Cruel Intentions
Ken set down the game pad on the bed beside him, rotating his sore wrists. He found out that he absolutely sucked at Puzzle Fighter, Pocket Fighter, Chu Chu Rocket, King of Fighters '94 (the best one!) and a few other games he couldn't remember playing. He flopped backward onto Mamoru's king-sized bed in his king-sized room. He really hadn't taken the time to notice how fucking*HUGE* this place was the last time he'd been inside. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him why he was so tired; it was 3:08 in the morning. The floor was littered with empty chip bags, soda bottles, pocky boxes, and various other items they'd consumed earlier in the evening. He was amazed at the amount of junk this kid went through on what seemed to be a regular basis. Yet, somehow, he was still thin and incredibly active and healthy. He leaned up and saw Mamoru leaning forward to switch off his game system and wide-screen television. What surprised Ken the most about this incredible young'un was the fact that such a privileged life had not spoiled him. Not one tiny bit. He was grateful. He felt the bed falter down a bit more as the blonde collapsed back beside him.
"You really suck at video games."
"You really suck at soccer." Ken paused. "Baka."
"Loser." A smile rose to Ken's lips. It felt so good to just get out and go nuts every once in a while. Being with Mamoru had nearly made him forget about the whole catastrophe with that detective (what was his name? Kuto? No, Kudou!) and Kase. Kase… Surely he wouldn't have been able to get through half of this crap if he hadn't had Kase by his side, rooting him on. He knew Kase would always be there for him, but recently, the older man had just seemed so distant, so far away…
Mamoru turned his head to look at the person beside him. Ken seemed totally lost in thought. He really wished the J-Leaguer would talk to him about it. He wanted to help him. Ever since they'd met, he had been feeling strangely drawn to him, almost as if their meeting was fated; written in the stars, as it were. He'd never made that many friends in his surprisingly sheltered life, so he couldn't remember if this was the way it was supposed to happen… Oh well. He shrugged the thoughts away and rolled over, clambering on top of his comrade.
"Keeee-eeeeen," he called, waving a hand in front of the eyes staring off into space. Ken blinked once, twice, and finally focused on the hand, then Mamoru. "You looked a little, um, dead." He chuckled.
It was at this moment Ken realized Mamoru was laid out on top of him. The weight wasn't much, really. It was actually quite pleasant. A little too much so. Ken felt a blush flash across his cheeks and quickly maneuvered himself out from underneath the genki youth without pushing him away; a movement that he could execute without rousing any sort of suspicion.
"Sorry," he mumbled, grateful for his long bangs to hide his lightly stained cheeks. He could sense a pair of eyes on him, and fought the urge to turn around. A gentle, warm hand placed itself on the goalie's shoulder, willing him to turn and face his friend.
"Ken-kun," he whispered. "What's bothering you?" Ken couldn't hold back any longer. He turned to face those cobalt eyes, and all of the words he'd been longing to say all day, to tell to someone - anyone, came spilling out as if they would never have another chance to be spoken. He told Mamoru about Kase, about how he could feel them growing apart and how much it hurt to see him in pain. He told him about Kudou and being charged with gambling on his games. He wasn't sure how long he talked. All he was aware of were Mamoru's arms around him, holding and comforting him like a small child who'd just woken from a nightmare and was seeking solace in his mother's embrace. Even after silence had befallen the chocolate-haired boy, Mamoru continued to grasp Ken, clinging tightly to him as if he'd done this a million times before.
"Everything's going to be fine, Ken-kun," he told him. "I'm sure Kase's just distant because he's sick. He'll get better soon, and you two are going to be right back to normal. And I'm sure that detective guy is going to find the lousy sonofabitch who dragged your name into the mud." There was such a strong resolve in his voice, like he would enforce everything he promised. 'Anything to stop the bad ones,' he thought. "Are you going to be okay, Ken?" he asked delicately. When there was no answer, he glanced down at the boy in his lap. A smile lit up his face. Ken had fallen fast asleep. Mamoru, careful not to disturb his sleeping companion, slipped out from beneath him, and tenderly placed a pillow under the sleeping Ken. 'God, he looks so peaceful when he sleeps.' Mamoru paused. He looked at Ken for a long time, memorizing his features, feeling an odd wave of nostalgia flow through him. Slowly, hesitantly, and for reasons beyond him, the blonde bent over and placed a soft, fleeting kiss on the older boy's lips.
"Be all right, Ken…"
A gratifying smile rose to the lips of Detective Asuka Kudou as she flipped through the pages in her case file. Name: Takatori Reiji. Suspected of money laundering, murder, and other such underground illegalities. Possible accomplices: Son, Takatori Masafumi, scientist, and son Takatori Hirofumi, businessman for family company. What a case to come back to! Asuka couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. She had been waiting far too long it seemed to get back to what she does best: prying around in other people's business. Or detecting, if you wanted to be all politically correct about it. She wondered briefly how Yohji would react when he found out about it. Ideas of his over-protective response flitted through her mind as she made her way to the computer labs for research.
Yohji yawned with express boredom as he walked down the street. He knew he should probably be researching the case, looking for clues to trace down the guy who'd willfully and rather wrongfully accused that poor Hidaka kid, but he just couldn't focus on that right now. His thoughts wandered back to Asuka, who had come to work unexpected and almost a week earlier than they'd anticipated. He couldn't help but worry about her a little bit. She was his wife, after all. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one paper & tobacco cylinder out and placing it between his lips. He pawed through his pockets until he found a lighter and struck it. Nothing. He struck it again. Same. Shit.
Ran bowed one last time in thanks to Momoe-san who'd generously offered to take over the store to let him go home early to his sister. He'd do something special for her one of these days. As he turned to go, a familiar sight took hold of his attention. The honey-haired man with the sunglasses was standing right on the corner of the street, toying with a lighter, cursing every now and again. After a moment of ponderance, Ran walked toward him, producing a lighter out of his own pocket. He stuck it and held it up for the frustrated man. He looked surprised at first, but then bent and lit his cancer-stick.
"Thanks, kid," he said after his first gratifying drag. Ran's eyebrow twitched. He'd done it again! "I didn't take you as the smoking type," he commented.
"I'm not." The blonde cocked his head to the side. "Anymore. I quit a long time ago." Jade eyes looked slyly at him.
"Then why do you still carry a lighter…?" The redhead opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He seemed to think for a while before finally speaking.
"I'm always prepared," he said quietly. Yohji guffawed at the answer, and was in turn shot a contemptuous death glare, which Ran didn't exactly do often. Something about this man… It seemed he was going out of his was to be condescending and teasing and rude, and… He could go on for days at this rate, and he didn't even know his name. Like he'd been reading his mind, the taller, older man extended his hand.
"I'm Yohji," he offered. After much hesitation, the other reached a pale hand forward.
"Ran." Yohji raised an eyebrow.
"Orchid?" Ran nodded. Yohji's jade eyes glinted teasingly. "You allow yourself to go by such a girly name?" Amethyst eyes shot daggers at the mocking older man, a gesture totally uncharacteristic of generally sweet- natured Ran. He sighed and lowered his gaze, feeling awkward looking at someone like that. Oh, well, at least it was merely playful teasing.
"How did the flowers work out?" He caught the wide grin.
"Like a charm."
Both boys smiled and shared the comfortable smile. Ran was glad he'd been able to make someone else's life a little bit happier. Even if that person was this egotistical bum. Amethyst eyes blinked as he realized that there was something in front of them. He focused on the item close up, and saw that it was a cigarette. He traced it back to its source, which was Yohji.
"I said I quit."
"Social smoking," he said. "It doesn't count." Ran stood, still hesitant. "If you don't want it, I won't press it on you." As he started to draw his hand away, however, the redheaded florist reached out and grabbed it, taking the cigarette from his grasp. He placed the cylinder between his lips, and obliged himself with a light. He took a long, slow drag, letting it out as slowly as he'd taken it, his entire face taking on a euphoric appearance. A perfect honey eyebrow arched. Ran saw it out of the corner of his eye.
"I quit for Aya-chan," he explained, not even realizing the older man had no clue what he was talking about. "I got into it after the accident, but stopped just for her." Yohji was intrigued. This young man seemed to be quite an enigma, one he wouldn't particularly mind getting to know. He grinned.
"I won't tell." The two shared a warm, knowing smile, both feeling oddly as if they had before…
Perfect. It was so goddamn perfect; he couldn't believe he'd never come up with it beforehand. Poison water and accusations were small potatoes compared to this! Kase let out a maniacal laugh, followed by a series of rough coughs. Well, shit. 'If it weren't for this flu,' he thought with spite immeasurable. 'Hmph. Doesn't matter. This will be worth the wait.' It truly was a flawless plan. He could exact revenge and have a little fun on the side… What was that kid's name again? He'd heard Ken mention him a few times, and it wasn't a J-Leaguer, he knew them all. This kid must be something a bit more special. Definitely an 'M' name… "MAMORU!" he cried aloud. Without wasting another second, Kase snatched up a pencil and a piece of paper, hastily writing down details as they flowed into his mind, not wanting to forget a single one. This would be it; the final plan. It would work. He would watch Ken as he writhed in agony, slowly being dragged down to hell where he belonged. He grinned, adding in little details to the scheme. He might as well entertain himself for a while before ending the goalie's life. A sadistic grin spread across his face as the sound of pencil scratching on paper filled the otherwise silent room.
Hmm. This is the shortest chapter by far. It seems kind of uneventful to me, but I wrote it anyway. Is it just me, or am I making Ken a tad too emotional? My beta-er's seem to be enjoying it enough, so I must be doing something right. What do you think?
Kourui
Chapter 4- Crushes and Cruel Intentions
Ken set down the game pad on the bed beside him, rotating his sore wrists. He found out that he absolutely sucked at Puzzle Fighter, Pocket Fighter, Chu Chu Rocket, King of Fighters '94 (the best one!) and a few other games he couldn't remember playing. He flopped backward onto Mamoru's king-sized bed in his king-sized room. He really hadn't taken the time to notice how fucking*HUGE* this place was the last time he'd been inside. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him why he was so tired; it was 3:08 in the morning. The floor was littered with empty chip bags, soda bottles, pocky boxes, and various other items they'd consumed earlier in the evening. He was amazed at the amount of junk this kid went through on what seemed to be a regular basis. Yet, somehow, he was still thin and incredibly active and healthy. He leaned up and saw Mamoru leaning forward to switch off his game system and wide-screen television. What surprised Ken the most about this incredible young'un was the fact that such a privileged life had not spoiled him. Not one tiny bit. He was grateful. He felt the bed falter down a bit more as the blonde collapsed back beside him.
"You really suck at video games."
"You really suck at soccer." Ken paused. "Baka."
"Loser." A smile rose to Ken's lips. It felt so good to just get out and go nuts every once in a while. Being with Mamoru had nearly made him forget about the whole catastrophe with that detective (what was his name? Kuto? No, Kudou!) and Kase. Kase… Surely he wouldn't have been able to get through half of this crap if he hadn't had Kase by his side, rooting him on. He knew Kase would always be there for him, but recently, the older man had just seemed so distant, so far away…
Mamoru turned his head to look at the person beside him. Ken seemed totally lost in thought. He really wished the J-Leaguer would talk to him about it. He wanted to help him. Ever since they'd met, he had been feeling strangely drawn to him, almost as if their meeting was fated; written in the stars, as it were. He'd never made that many friends in his surprisingly sheltered life, so he couldn't remember if this was the way it was supposed to happen… Oh well. He shrugged the thoughts away and rolled over, clambering on top of his comrade.
"Keeee-eeeeen," he called, waving a hand in front of the eyes staring off into space. Ken blinked once, twice, and finally focused on the hand, then Mamoru. "You looked a little, um, dead." He chuckled.
It was at this moment Ken realized Mamoru was laid out on top of him. The weight wasn't much, really. It was actually quite pleasant. A little too much so. Ken felt a blush flash across his cheeks and quickly maneuvered himself out from underneath the genki youth without pushing him away; a movement that he could execute without rousing any sort of suspicion.
"Sorry," he mumbled, grateful for his long bangs to hide his lightly stained cheeks. He could sense a pair of eyes on him, and fought the urge to turn around. A gentle, warm hand placed itself on the goalie's shoulder, willing him to turn and face his friend.
"Ken-kun," he whispered. "What's bothering you?" Ken couldn't hold back any longer. He turned to face those cobalt eyes, and all of the words he'd been longing to say all day, to tell to someone - anyone, came spilling out as if they would never have another chance to be spoken. He told Mamoru about Kase, about how he could feel them growing apart and how much it hurt to see him in pain. He told him about Kudou and being charged with gambling on his games. He wasn't sure how long he talked. All he was aware of were Mamoru's arms around him, holding and comforting him like a small child who'd just woken from a nightmare and was seeking solace in his mother's embrace. Even after silence had befallen the chocolate-haired boy, Mamoru continued to grasp Ken, clinging tightly to him as if he'd done this a million times before.
"Everything's going to be fine, Ken-kun," he told him. "I'm sure Kase's just distant because he's sick. He'll get better soon, and you two are going to be right back to normal. And I'm sure that detective guy is going to find the lousy sonofabitch who dragged your name into the mud." There was such a strong resolve in his voice, like he would enforce everything he promised. 'Anything to stop the bad ones,' he thought. "Are you going to be okay, Ken?" he asked delicately. When there was no answer, he glanced down at the boy in his lap. A smile lit up his face. Ken had fallen fast asleep. Mamoru, careful not to disturb his sleeping companion, slipped out from beneath him, and tenderly placed a pillow under the sleeping Ken. 'God, he looks so peaceful when he sleeps.' Mamoru paused. He looked at Ken for a long time, memorizing his features, feeling an odd wave of nostalgia flow through him. Slowly, hesitantly, and for reasons beyond him, the blonde bent over and placed a soft, fleeting kiss on the older boy's lips.
"Be all right, Ken…"
A gratifying smile rose to the lips of Detective Asuka Kudou as she flipped through the pages in her case file. Name: Takatori Reiji. Suspected of money laundering, murder, and other such underground illegalities. Possible accomplices: Son, Takatori Masafumi, scientist, and son Takatori Hirofumi, businessman for family company. What a case to come back to! Asuka couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. She had been waiting far too long it seemed to get back to what she does best: prying around in other people's business. Or detecting, if you wanted to be all politically correct about it. She wondered briefly how Yohji would react when he found out about it. Ideas of his over-protective response flitted through her mind as she made her way to the computer labs for research.
Yohji yawned with express boredom as he walked down the street. He knew he should probably be researching the case, looking for clues to trace down the guy who'd willfully and rather wrongfully accused that poor Hidaka kid, but he just couldn't focus on that right now. His thoughts wandered back to Asuka, who had come to work unexpected and almost a week earlier than they'd anticipated. He couldn't help but worry about her a little bit. She was his wife, after all. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one paper & tobacco cylinder out and placing it between his lips. He pawed through his pockets until he found a lighter and struck it. Nothing. He struck it again. Same. Shit.
Ran bowed one last time in thanks to Momoe-san who'd generously offered to take over the store to let him go home early to his sister. He'd do something special for her one of these days. As he turned to go, a familiar sight took hold of his attention. The honey-haired man with the sunglasses was standing right on the corner of the street, toying with a lighter, cursing every now and again. After a moment of ponderance, Ran walked toward him, producing a lighter out of his own pocket. He stuck it and held it up for the frustrated man. He looked surprised at first, but then bent and lit his cancer-stick.
"Thanks, kid," he said after his first gratifying drag. Ran's eyebrow twitched. He'd done it again! "I didn't take you as the smoking type," he commented.
"I'm not." The blonde cocked his head to the side. "Anymore. I quit a long time ago." Jade eyes looked slyly at him.
"Then why do you still carry a lighter…?" The redhead opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He seemed to think for a while before finally speaking.
"I'm always prepared," he said quietly. Yohji guffawed at the answer, and was in turn shot a contemptuous death glare, which Ran didn't exactly do often. Something about this man… It seemed he was going out of his was to be condescending and teasing and rude, and… He could go on for days at this rate, and he didn't even know his name. Like he'd been reading his mind, the taller, older man extended his hand.
"I'm Yohji," he offered. After much hesitation, the other reached a pale hand forward.
"Ran." Yohji raised an eyebrow.
"Orchid?" Ran nodded. Yohji's jade eyes glinted teasingly. "You allow yourself to go by such a girly name?" Amethyst eyes shot daggers at the mocking older man, a gesture totally uncharacteristic of generally sweet- natured Ran. He sighed and lowered his gaze, feeling awkward looking at someone like that. Oh, well, at least it was merely playful teasing.
"How did the flowers work out?" He caught the wide grin.
"Like a charm."
Both boys smiled and shared the comfortable smile. Ran was glad he'd been able to make someone else's life a little bit happier. Even if that person was this egotistical bum. Amethyst eyes blinked as he realized that there was something in front of them. He focused on the item close up, and saw that it was a cigarette. He traced it back to its source, which was Yohji.
"I said I quit."
"Social smoking," he said. "It doesn't count." Ran stood, still hesitant. "If you don't want it, I won't press it on you." As he started to draw his hand away, however, the redheaded florist reached out and grabbed it, taking the cigarette from his grasp. He placed the cylinder between his lips, and obliged himself with a light. He took a long, slow drag, letting it out as slowly as he'd taken it, his entire face taking on a euphoric appearance. A perfect honey eyebrow arched. Ran saw it out of the corner of his eye.
"I quit for Aya-chan," he explained, not even realizing the older man had no clue what he was talking about. "I got into it after the accident, but stopped just for her." Yohji was intrigued. This young man seemed to be quite an enigma, one he wouldn't particularly mind getting to know. He grinned.
"I won't tell." The two shared a warm, knowing smile, both feeling oddly as if they had before…
Perfect. It was so goddamn perfect; he couldn't believe he'd never come up with it beforehand. Poison water and accusations were small potatoes compared to this! Kase let out a maniacal laugh, followed by a series of rough coughs. Well, shit. 'If it weren't for this flu,' he thought with spite immeasurable. 'Hmph. Doesn't matter. This will be worth the wait.' It truly was a flawless plan. He could exact revenge and have a little fun on the side… What was that kid's name again? He'd heard Ken mention him a few times, and it wasn't a J-Leaguer, he knew them all. This kid must be something a bit more special. Definitely an 'M' name… "MAMORU!" he cried aloud. Without wasting another second, Kase snatched up a pencil and a piece of paper, hastily writing down details as they flowed into his mind, not wanting to forget a single one. This would be it; the final plan. It would work. He would watch Ken as he writhed in agony, slowly being dragged down to hell where he belonged. He grinned, adding in little details to the scheme. He might as well entertain himself for a while before ending the goalie's life. A sadistic grin spread across his face as the sound of pencil scratching on paper filled the otherwise silent room.
Hmm. This is the shortest chapter by far. It seems kind of uneventful to me, but I wrote it anyway. Is it just me, or am I making Ken a tad too emotional? My beta-er's seem to be enjoying it enough, so I must be doing something right. What do you think?
Kourui