Sorry it's taken me so long to update!! Typing with a brace is hard…I can't wait to get it off…plus the whole job search thing…mou… Alrighty, now that I've done my moping it's time to get onto, you guessed it, Hiro and K…alternating pov.
"Hiro?! HIIIRRROOOOOOO!!!!" I know that screech. My neck is so sore…
"You going to show up and tell him you're alive or do I have to maim him?" I know that voice.
"K! You're alright? No permanent damage?"
"An interesting scar. My hair covers it."
"So when you're old and fat and bald I'll have to stare at some freaky ass scar?"
"You know it."
"At least we know now that nothing can damage your head."
"Solid titanium!"
"So is your stomach…how can you eat this junk?" I look at the tray that the nurse left nearly ten minutes ago and drag it over to where K is just sitting up without waking Michael. Shuichi's still screaming, but it's fading. I really should stick my head out and wave. But first…I want a shower. My hair's sticking up and itchy and I smell like smoke and dirt.
Yuck. I admit, I'm the last person who should complain, what with the way I organize my things on the largest shelf in the house…namely, the floor…and am the priest of the Church of 'if it doesn't smell, it's clean' fashion statements. But I do smell…bad. I can smell me. That's bad. K's managed to wiggle out of the too small bed leaving Michael to drool on the pillow.
He's just like daddy.
"HIIIROOO!!! KEEEEEEIIII!!! HIIIIROOOOO!"
"KAAAYY!!!" Apparently Sakuma-san's here as well, the only way to differentiate from their screaming, and that's through the slight accent Sakuma-san has from his time in the states. Perfect.
"I'm heading to the washroom, be out in fifteen." K nods and sits in the chair I slept in to watch Michael as I clean up. The small room to the side is just that, small. Somehow, the hospital managed to fit a sink, toilet, and shower in the space of an airplane lavatory. Small…and clean and stocked with soaps and shampoos and towels. All I need is a change…but unfortunately no such thing exists. I have the clothes on the floor, and that's it…including K's and my own wallets. That's something at least, and it's not like we can't afford new things.
Aw shit…my guitar. I've had that thing since I was six…
No moping. It's not going to do anything about our current situation. Still…I know that my face isn't completely warm and wet from the shower alone.
--
"K?" A blond head pops in, then smiles in relief. Just for a split second though…don't I feel special.
"Quiet. Michael's sleeping."
"Aa. I've arranged for a list of available housing…do you want to look now, or shall I leave it for later?"
"Later." Touma comes in completely and closes the door behind him, blocking out the screaming of two stars with whom I've had the…experience…of managing. He's followed closely by Mika, which explains the look on his face…
Contrary to popular belief, there was love there, at first. I remember sitting in on chat sessions between Touma, Ryuichi and Noriko where it was obvious he was head over heels for her, and she for him. He missed practises for her…nearly missed a concert. I remember the first time she took him over to the Temple to meet her family…
He hardly spoke of her at all after that…then went to America with her younger brother. I remember sabotaging the crime scene after he cleaned up… He's rarely smiled since, or laughed like he used to. I miss the younger version of him, but I can respect the older one.
"You look like shit." He's also grown a little more blunt…
"Thank you! It's the latest fad…" Mika cracks a grin, but I only get a nod from the keyboardist turned big shot head of the company named after the band he once thrived from…
"Why don't you grab a shower K? We brought some clothes." Mika hands me a bag that smells like new. I take it, gratefully. There's nothing like a butt flap that's not really a flap…I can feel her staring as I move towards the washroom where Hiro's disappeared to, and flash a grin that gets her to flush before moving inside.
Definitely small.
The shower's going, and it's a safe bet that Hiro would welcome a little company. I place the bag on the floor and throw our clothes out…they were little more than rags anyways. The shower's larger than the room it's door is in…which is a good thing. A very good thing.
Hiro's crying…not hard, not sobbing, his breathing remains even. It looks like a good idea, and I wrap my arms around him.
"Michael?"
"Seguchi's are watching him."
"Ah."
We stand there until the water turns our skin white and wrinkled.
--
At times…it's nice to be held. I must remember to thank Touma for bringing something that doesn't smell like…yuck…and fits well. He does have access to my size, seeing as he's in charge of the company that provides my costumes for the stage, but it's still nice to know that he cares enough to find out or send someone to find out for him. The outfit K received however….
I honestly think that Ryuichi picked it out under the influence… it's lime green with teal bunnies and violet flowers, and doesn't close completely around his chest, so he's left it open…and his shorts, yes, shorts, are yellow with burnt orange trim. I'd feel sorry for the guy, but he's enjoying the change from the dress shirt and slacks he usually wears far too much for it too be healthy.
He was skipping.
I was disturbed…again.
You would think that I'd be used to his quirks by now, but noooo….he always manages to surprise me.
Like in the shower. I was not expecting him to just appear like that. Not that I minded, and it was nice to be held.
Michael was just waking up by the time we emerged, and he disappeared into the washroom to change and wake up a bit more. Somehow, Touma managed to get him a school uniform. It's very charming. He and Ryuichi are currently comparing drafts of the large purple duck shaped swing set outside of the window, and I'm sorry to say that Michael is definitely winning. He got the purple part right…
K's placed every other picture they've completed in the bag our clothes came in, marking them on the back with either an M or R.
"Wanna cola?" Shuichi asks as he pushes the door open with his hip. He's got his arms full of pop and snacks, his opinion of hospital gunk lower than mine, and I snatch up a diet ginger ale and bag of dried squid. The salt is attractive after the bland …thing… they called breakfast. Maybe some pumpkin seeds as well, lunch is a long way off and I'm hungry.
Shuichi's grabbed a pad of paper and handful of crayons from the bag of things they brought along, and shoved them into my hands. Ryuichi saw…
Within five minutes everyone has their own piece of paper, and is scribbling away. For a moment, it's possible to forget where we are, why we're here, and just play. Shuichi's rendition of Yuki is…interesting.
"Um…Shu? There are children present…" I sweat drop at the puzzled look he gives me.
"It's what Yuki looks like." The yellow crayon is applied.
"D'you think that…before you let Michael see it…Yuki could have some pants? Just maybe?" I raise an eyebrow.
"But that's how I remember him…last time I saw him…" A thin trail of drool leaks out of my friend's mouth…I hope I never look like that…the sweat drop grows.
"At least make it a PG rated picture…"
"Mou…Hidooooiiii! Hiro…."
"For me? I'll be your best friend…"
"You are my best friend, and you're mean!"
"You know what? You're right. Pants on now."
"When did you get all maternal?" The muttered words reach my ears and it's all I can do to prevent myself from reaching out and strangling him. Me? Maternal? As if…
His face is nearly the same shade as his hair, he's making these little gasping noises, and his skin is smooth under my fingers. Guess I'm not as good at self control as I thought. Oh well. He's dead anyways. His sister used to take his lunches away when he annoyed her, I prefer to kill whatever brain cells may have tried to work. Standard punishment for him calling me anything related to the other gender, really.
Ever since I started to grow out my hair he's commented…and I commented right back. That's why I freaked out when he first showed blatant interest in the same sex. Not that I'm one to talk, but still…for a moment I thought it was my fault, and had these corruption of a minor charges springing up in front of my eyes.
Then I remembered that he was nineteen, and not a minor.
Even though he still acts like one…but so does Sakuma-san. It really makes me wonder whether or not he'll still be eating crayons at ninety.
All signs point to yes.
For once, I pity Yuki.
And the people who are going to wonder what it is that they're cleaning up when he barfs later. He's eaten six or seven of the crayons as well as two boxes of pocky and chocolate and a heavily sugared pop, all within the last five minutes. And he's always bouncy. Later may be sooner…he looks greener than number 42, emerald green. I can count down as he squeals and dances in place, applauding Touma's reaction to Yuki in bunny slippers and nothing else while his stomach churns multi-coloured wax the texture of cottage cheese.
3
2
1
….colourful.