A/N: I forgot to mention - this is my 30th fic! Yay, celebration, and all that junk! Geez, I hadn't realized I'd written so much. Really, I feel like I've hardly written much at all. I don't feel very accomplished. Oh well, I'm working at it. I wrote this chapter yesterday, but I ended up finishing very late at night so I couldn't write the author's notes or upload it. Much longer chapter, because you all deserve it. Sorry if the characters seem OOC, but I'm trying to figure out how they're going to fit into the plot of the story.
Let me take a little time to thank and respond to the reviewers:
2 lazy 2 think of a name - Ah, don't want to have to resort to stalking. Here you go, I've continued. ^-^
Jay Man - I hope this is 'keeping it up' for you? O.o'
syenite kai - Daisuke is going to appear later on in the story (with Yamato and a few certain others), but it won't be too long 'til then, don't you worry. Yes, Ken is androgynous...when I was reading the Lani Garver book I kept getting reminded of him when it talked about Lani. x.x'
lil_angelgirl - Yes, the book is awesome. *-*
This chapter is dedicated to you guys.
Disclaimer is in the first chapter, and still applies to this one.
Warning: This chapter brings to light an eating disorder called bulimia. It's a serious matter, and I hope I'm doing okay talking about it. I've done a little research so I'm sure what it is and all that. If you're sensitive about this type of thing, maybe you shouldn't read this fic, because it's going to deal with it a lot more later on...well, just warning you guys.
Now, on with the fic.
Chapter 2: How Takeru Comes To Sleep On Ken's Bed
After we'd gotten over the initial shock of Ken's appearance at our school, we became bored again, and Taichi started discussing a "study group" for tonight. Our study groups were just another excuse for getting out of the house to go party somewhere at night. We planned on meeting at one of the cafés we enjoyed going to in town. After school, after we all promised to be there, we separated to go to our respective homes and get ready.
I was all set for a good, long night with my friends by the time six o' clock rolled by. I pulled a hoodie on over my plain navy blue shirt and headed out the door. I didn't mind walking, since the café was just down the road. Everyone was pretty much already gathered when I walked in. They were all seated in one of the long, corner booths.
I slid in on the end, next to Hikari. She turned to smile at me. She was wearing her shiny, red lip-gloss. That meant she was going to kiss somebody tonight.
"Ready to have fun tonight?" she asked me, her voice low. I grinned at her.
"Of course," I replied easily.
She slid closer to me so our arms touched. I cautiously looked down at her arm and then looked away, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable. She got touchy-feely like this when she drank something alcoholic. I could tell she hadn't drunk much, but it was enough to get her pretty friendly. I often got after her for doing it, and then got after Taichi for letting her do it.
I carefully moved a little away from her on the seat, though not enough so she'd notice right away. She continued to listen to our friends and laugh at things they said that I didn't hear. I watched as Taichi slid his drink over to me.
"Have some, Takeru."
I glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow. I took a sip and noticed the slightly different taste right away. He'd put something in it. I handed it back to him, making myself grin.
"Hah hah, very funny, Taichi."
He was always making fun of me for not drinking with him. I can't stand the taste of beer - the taste has always been totally unappealing to me. I can have certain beverages with alcohol in them, but I normally stay away from them and politely decline offers. It's only when I'm either angry or depressed that I drink with them. This time, I wasn't either, and I wasn't about to risk getting caught drinking something with alcohol in it in a café. Taichi, of course, got a rush out of doing stupid things like that.
I ordered a coke for myself and rested my elbows and arms on top of the table, drumming my fingers on the tabletop. Miyako turned to tell me to stop, so I looked at her for a while and then removed my hands from the table. I set my arms down on my lap and gripped my elbows, something I did when I was uncomfortable.
Hikari moved closer to me again. Taichi made a joke about something or another and everyone laughed. I laughed along with them, even though I hadn't heard the joke. My coke arrived and I quickly drank some, feeling suddenly parched. Taichi pulled something out of his jacket pocket and pulled the top off, reaching towards my drink. I recognized the little flask and pulled my drink towards myself.
"Come on, Takeru, you are not denying yourself this again tonight."
"Yes I am," I said, trying to sound cheerful. I smirked at him.
He reached again. "No, you're not. Come on, Takeru."
"Don't want any," I said, lifting my drink to my lips again.
"Leave him alone," Hikari warned her brother.
He narrowed his eyes at her and put the flask back into his pocket.
"Someone is going to see that and you're going to get into trouble," Hikari scolded.
"No they aren't, and no I'm not," Taichi argued. He grinned. "No one catches me."
I looked at Hikari and caught her eye. I gave her a smile of thanks and she winked at me. She knew I didn't like for Taichi to pressure me, which he did often enough to make me uncomfortable when we hung out at night.
"Want to go out and get some fresh air?" she asked gently.
I nodded quickly. The café was starting to feel a little stuffy to me.
We got out of the booth and told the others we were going to walk around outside. They all said goodbyes and see-you-laters, turning back to their conversation. Hikari and I got outside and took in the fresh night air, grinning. She began walking down the boulevard, passing the little shops and restaurants with lighted signs and windows. I walked in step with her, smiling a lot easier now that I was out in the open. I enjoyed walking around outside at night because everything seemed so peaceful, despite the other people crowding outside on the sidewalk.
She suddenly turned to me and stopped, smiling and closing her eyes halfway. I stopped and turned to her expectantly, smiling back. She lifted her arms to slide around my neck and walked forwards so I was pushed back against the wall. I frowned slightly and lifted my hands to rest on her arms, ready to pull them off if I got uncomfortable again.
"What is it, 'Kari-chan?" I asked a little timidly.
She chuckled to herself, looking me over and tilting her head to the side. "You look so good tonight, Takeru."
"Thank you." I pressed myself back against the wall so we weren't so close - her breath smelled slightly of the alcohol she'd probably consumed in the café.
She pressed up against me again and leant her head forwards. My eyes widened when her lips met mine and I moved my hands down from her arms to her shoulders, gently pushing her back. I stared into her eyes, my eyebrows furrowing.
"How much did you drink tonight?"
She giggled again and shook her head, leaning forward again. I gently put my hand on her forehead. She pouted at me.
"How much?"
She pulled herself completely away from me, withdrawing to stand a little apart. She looked irritated. "It doesn't matter how much. Why are you being so distant?"
"Distant? Why are you being so forward?"
"I know you want to kiss me."
"What?"
I raised both my eyebrows.
"Why do you think that?"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "The way you were looking at me."
I stared at her and then looked away, trying to stay calm and focused. I felt instinct kicking in, suddenly needing to get away from the discomfort. I looked at her.
"I have to go...to the bathroom."
I slid against the wall past her and began walking into the nearest restaurant. It was a fast-food place, one that stayed open late. I glanced behind myself and sighed in relief when I saw she hadn't followed me. She probably went back to the café the others were in to groan about me.
When I looked forward again to check out this restaurant, I hesitated when I saw who was standing at the register, ordering food. I instantly recognized the indigo-violet color of hair, sweeping down to the thin shoulders. I couldn't believe my luck. It was Ken Ichijouji.
I turned and walked out of that restaurant as fast as I could.
I sat down on the street corner outside of the restaurant, figuring Ken wouldn't be going outside for a while since he had barely been ordering his food. I rested my arms on my legs and my fists on my knees, sighing. It was going to be another one of those nights. Keeping Hikari off of me without making her too mad, declining every offer that Taichi made to me, then forcing myself to grin through his joking about it at my expense, and the others watching and laughing as if we were the most amusing thing in the world - though that could be because of the alcohol. I rubbed my forehead against my knuckles, sighing to myself again.
During it all, I had to keep that damned smile on my face - my "happy mask", as I've come to call it. Oh, yes, I'm having the best fucking time of my life. Watch me dance my puppet dance for you.
I was suddenly aware of slurping going on somewhere above my head. I jumped slightly and looked up from my knees as someone sat down next to me, still slurping their drink loudly.
I stared at Ken as if he were an alien or something. Why was he sitting next to me? He hardly even knew me.
"Are you okay, Takeru?" he asked me, his straw still stuck in his mouth.
I saw that his face was sincere, so I let my guard down again and went back to resting my head against my arms and knees.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Right." I thought I heard sarcasm in his voice. I heard slurping again. I sighed.
"Must you do that?"
The slurping stopped. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?"
I felt his arm go around my shoulders and I stiffened. Lifting my head from my knees, I turned to narrow my eyes at him. "What are you doing out here, so late and all alone?"
"I was thirsty." He shrugged and looked as if it was supposed to be totally obvious to me.
"What is that?" I pointed at his drink.
"A slurpee. Don't you ever have slurpees from this place? They're great."
"I never have anything from this place," I said, glancing up behind us at the fast-food place.
"Why not? The food's delicious."
"It's not my type of place."
"It isn't?" He looked genuinely surprised. "Why not?"
I stared at him. "I just don't." I hoped I sounded like I didn't want to continue the conversation, because I didn't. I was feeling irritated with the way things were going that night, and I didn't really want to be talking to him on a street corner in the middle of the cold night. My friends were probably wondering where I was. If they came out to find me and saw me talking to him, of all people, I'd never hear the end of it. Also, my stomach was starting to feel queasy.
I realized he had been looking me over while I was silent. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Are you checking me out?" I was only slightly surprised at how annoyed my voice sounded.
"You're too skinny," he said, looking up at my eyes again.
"What?"
"Do you eat much?"
I gawked at him. "What kind of a question is that to ask? I hardly know you, and you ask me if I eat much and tell me I'm too skinny? Who do you think you are?"
"I know you. You're Takeru Takaishi. You know me, don't you? So why not ask? I'm just concerned, that's all."
"Well, I'm just fine, so you don't have to be concerned about me, okay?" I hated it when people commented on how skinny I was. It was as if they didn't think I even knew.
"You didn't answer my question," Ken pointed out.
I growled to myself and stood up. He looked up at me from where he sat, head tilted up and eyes rolled back. He blinked at me. "Where are you going?"
"Back to my friends," I said, sounding more annoyed than before.
I turned around quickly and began to march off when the queasiness in my stomach hit me full force. I stopped in my tracks and held my stomach, trying to keep from gagging. I put my hand up to my mouth, shutting my eyes. I heard Ken walking towards me and standing next to me.
"Are you okay, Takeru?"
I became vaguely aware that he'd asked me that twice that night.
"No," I said, deciding to be honest this time, because it was pretty pointless to lie since I probably didn't look okay to him. "I'm just a little queasy, that's all."
"Well, my house is very close by, if you want to go over. I have medicine and stuff you could take to help calm your stomach. You can call someone to go pick you up, if you want to go home."
"My mom's working late...won't be home 'til nine tonight," I told him.
"Your dad?"
"Divorced. Not living with us."
"Older sisters or brothers?"
"I'm an only child. Look, I don't live that far...just about six blocks."
"I'm not going to let you walk six blocks alone and in this condition. You'll puke on a stranger or something. My house is closer, let's just go there."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I was starting to feel suspicious of him. How could he be so nice when I had been so rude to him while we were talking?
"Nice? What the hell? Is it demented to cut you a break?"
'Yeah,' I thought, 'it actually is. I'm always the one cutting people breaks. I don't know how to act when someone else does something for me.'
I realized his arm was still around my waist and I pulled away from him. "Quit touching me so much."
After listening to my voice, I noticed how snappy I sounded. I groaned.
"Geez, I'm being so rude. You're offering me a walk to your home to use your phone, and I'm yelling at you."
"You aren't yelling." He actually sounded like he was grinning and trying not to laugh. "So, what about it? Do you want to go over?"
I thought about it for about a second before the queasiness set in again and reminded me I needed to find a toilet to barf into.
"Okay, fine, I'll go with you."
He grinned almost triumphantly as he began leading me down the sidewalk. I kept glancing back over my shoulder to make sure none of my friends were watching Ken Ichijouji lead me off into the moonlit night.
I swayed on my feet and bumped into him while we walked. "Sorry."
He laughed to himself and raised his arm to put it around my shoulders. I suddenly felt grateful for the support and lifted my arm to rest around his shoulders. Walking seemed a lot easier after that. My stomach made an odd noise and my mouth suddenly got very watery. I swallowed tons of my own saliva and frantically looked up to look for his house. I realized a few seconds later that this was futile, since I didn't know which house was his.
"Are we almost-"
"Here." He turned me down a sidewalk and walked faster, sensing my distress. He quickly unlocked the door with a key he'd pulled out of his pocket. I smiled thankfully at him as he opened the door and let me walk in first.
"The bathroom's down the hall and to the left, second door."
I ran to find it.
After I was down heaving into the toilet, I took some time to look around at the house as I walked back to the living room, where I'd left Ken standing. It was the typical duplex, with three rooms downstairs and two rooms upstairs, and a balcony over the front porch. Everything looked nice and clean, nothing out of order, the vacuum lines still on the carpet on the floor. I figured Ken didn't have little kids as siblings.
Ken was sitting on the couch in the living room, talking to a lady sitting on a second couch that was running perpendicular to it along the wall. She turned to smile up at me when I came into the room, and I smiled back, a little uneasily because I didn't know how good I looked right after puking my guts out.
I didn't feel like talking, mostly because I still felt ill and uneasy, and I hoped I didn't have to have a conversation with this woman. Luckily, Ken stood up and rushed over to start pushing me up the stairs, probably to his room.
"Mom, Takeru. Takeru, Mom."
"Hello, how are you?" I heard her call to me.
I thought that was a little odd, because usually people just said "hey" around here.
"I'm doing okay," I called back, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt. Having practiced fake cheerfulness pretty much my whole life, I actually did sound as if I was just fine.
I heard Ken laughing under his breath behind me, though, so I guess I wasn't that good at hiding it. His mother seemed satisfied with my answer. However, me being me, I just had to go and do the whole act.
"I hope you like it here...it's a good town...nice people...the weather's good, except for the cold and the fog," I rambled on, swaying on my feet and crashing into the wall a few times. I'm sure I looked like a lunatic. I'm sure she thought I was on drugs or drunk or something. Oh yeah, great first impression, Takeru. It was hard to be cheerful when you felt like collapsing on the floor and laying there forever until the pain in your stomach died down.
"Don't fall," Ken said helpfully, and I heard the laugh in his voice. I felt like whirling around and shoving him down the stairs. Some big help he was. We finally reached the top of the stairs and he began guiding me to what I guessed was his room.
As soon as I saw his bed, with its fluffy dark blue comforter and silky sheets and pillows, I threw myself onto them, letting my body collapse there.
"Your mom is nice," I mumbled. "I'm sure she thinks I'm a psycho or something, though. I was stumbling the whole way up the stairs. Did I look like a psycho? Do you think she thinks I am?"
"Is this normal for you? Worrying about a complete stranger's opinion while you're practically passing out?"
I realized it would sound a bit odd to him. "Oh, that's just the way I am. Never minding my own problems, just helping out with everybody else's...it's gotten to the point where I stop worrying about my problems and they don't bug me at all. It actually feels weird for me to have problems, since I'm so used to having to help my friends with theirs." I stopped, realizing I was rambling about personal stuff to someone I hardly knew.
"So you're saying...no one ever listens to your problems? You have to deal with them completely on your own?" He wandered over to where three candles rested on a dresser and carefully lit them. I watched him. 'Gay thing,' I thought, feeling a little edgy.
"Well, not totally on my own...my friend Hikari listens to me and offers advice. We're really close."
"The girl that dragged you over to my table earlier today?"
"Yeah," I said, before I could realize what he'd said. It dawned on me and my eyes widened. "I mean, no, she didn't drag me over. I wanted to meet you, too." It was too late, though, and I was just making it worse.
To my surprise, he burst out into little laughter that sounded suspiciously like giggling.
"So, uh, where's your dad?" I asked, hoping to remove his attention from my comment.
"He passed away about a year ago," Ken replied easily.
Smooth move, Takeru, smooth move. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice sounding weak. My body was starting to feel weak, too.
Ken shrugged. He finally stopped standing around and sat down on the edge of the bed. "He was a good guy, but we weren't that close."
"So how do you like Odaiba?" I asked, trying to change the subject to something that wouldn't lead to some stupid comment on my part.
"I'm adjusting okay." He shrugged and began picking at the blanket. "I'm used to moving around a lot. I've moved around practically every year since the fifth grade."
"Why'd you move so much?"
"Well, first it was my dad's changing jobs so much. Then, I ran away for two years. This is my first year back."
My eyes practically bugged out of my head. "You ran away?"
He looked up to meet my eyes and nodded. For the first time since I'd met him, he looked slightly uncomfortable. I'd never met a kid who ran away before. At least, not for two whole years. I couldn't believe he looked so healthy.
"Why did you run away?" I asked, suddenly feeling very interested in him.
He squirmed a little. "I was living in a small town at the time. People like me do better in big cities. I don't like to talk about it, though. What's with the sudden nausea?"
I frowned where I lay on the bed. "Uh, I just get nauseous sometimes when I'm in an uncomfortable situation."
"Oh, really?" Ken's voice didn't sound sarcastic, but I saw the look in his eyes. 'He doesn't believe me,' I realized. 'He knows that I'm not telling the whole truth.'
"Why were you uncomfortable?" he asked. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw he was going to let it go.
"My friends," I said as an explanation.
"Elaborate."
I raised my eyebrow at the word. It wasn't something you normally heard in a casual conversation with a teenager.
"They just are."
"You aren't going to explain?"
"I don't like talking about myself, either."
He looked away from me and towards a corner of his room.
"Do you talk to them about it?"
"About what?"
"About how they make you uncomfortable."
I stared at him. "What? How could I do that?"
"Well, if something makes you uncomfortable, you should confront it and do something about it. If you don't, it'll always be there, and it'll always be uncomfortable."
I shrugged, feeling too tired to respond to that. I let my eyes drift shut. His bed was so soft...
"What about your mom?"
"What about her?"
"Do you talk to her about your problems?"
I shook my head, my eyes still closed. "No, not really. I can't. You know how it is...it's hard to talk to your parents when you're a teenager. They always think you aren't telling them all of it and you're hiding something, and then they don't trust you."
He continued to stare at the corner. "What about your dad?"
"I don't talk to him an awful lot, since I only visit him on weekends sometimes, but when I do, it's like he can read my mind. It's easy to talk to my dad, because he always makes an effort to understand everything you're talking about and tries to see it from your perspective so he doesn't get biased. I still don't tell him much about my problems, though, because he's just recently gotten remarried, and he has to work overtime so he can support the both of them, because she doesn't work. He doesn't need to hear my crap when he's got so much of his own."
"So you can't talk to your mom, your dad, or your friends, besides Hikari."
I had never really thought about how few close relationships I had before he put it that way. I didn't really have anyone I could rely on, anyone I could depend on to help me out if I was stuck in a jam and couldn't get myself out. Hikari had the perfect life, so she wouldn't bother trying to get me out of trouble if it risked her good reputation.
My stomach did a little flip-flop again and I groaned as I rolled onto my side.
"You could go to a counselor," Ken said, sounding as if he were grinning. I cracked my eyes open to look at him. He was still staring at the corner of his room.
"My dad wanted me to go to a counselor. He even said he'd pay for it. I don't want to, though. They're kind of scary." He laughed at that. I gave him a strange look, but he still wasn't looking at me.
"Do you ever get mad?" he asked suddenly, out of the blue.
I raised both my eyebrows. "What?"
"You know, do you get mad at your friends or your mom?"
"I get mad at my mom a lot." I couldn't see where he was going with this. "I kind of have to remind her to pay the bills and stuff. She knows I'm a responsible kid, so she uses that so she can be less responsible."
"What about your friends?"
"Of course I get mad at them. I-"
I suddenly heard Hikari's voice in my head, asking me what the hell I was doing talking about them to a complete stranger. I groaned to myself, a wave of nausea making its way up my body. I rested a hand on my stomach.
"Hey, Ken, you ran away, right?"
"Right."
"So you've seen a lot?"
"Yeah."
"You've seen a lot of sick people?"
"Tons."
"Good, because I think I'm about to be sick on your bed."
"The bathroom is right there," he said, pointing to a door in the wall to the left of us. He had one of those bathrooms that was connected to the bedroom. He still wasn't looking at me, still staring at that corner. I began to wonder if maybe the secret to the mystery of life was written somewhere in there.
I swallowed and the nausea died down again. It dawned on me that he was taking everything surprisingly easily. There I was, a sick kid he barely met for a few minutes that morning, lying on his bed, in his house, having a conversation with him as if we'd known each other for a long time. It seemed odd to me that he'd be so relaxed about everything. I didn't think anyone had paid that much attention to me in my entire life.
"Ken, I'm falling asleep," I mumbled.
He finally tore his gaze away from the dark corner of his room and turned to look at me. He smiled.
"Go ahead."
He shrugged.
"You're so nice," I muttered.
"Nice. There's that word again." He grinned, as if it amused him greatly that I'd used the same word to describe him twice.
"I can't sleep here," I said.
"Why not?"
"It isn't my house or my bed."
"Well, then I'm offering both to you, if you don't think you'll be able to get up any time soon."
"See, you are nice."
"Quit calling me nice." A tiny bit of annoyance tinged his voice.
"I'm bulimic." I gripped the pillow I was laying on, waiting for his reaction. I'd never told anybody before in my life, only my parents knew about it, and I didn't know why I was telling him, but it was out already. I couldn't retract the statement.
His eyes just widened for a second or two. "Okay..."
I waited, but he didn't say anything else.
"Have you ever known a bulimic person?"
"I have a friend who suffered from anorexia. And a few others who have other, much worse illnesses..."
'Illness...runaways...I should be more on edge around him, but I'm not,' I thought. But for some reason, talking to someone my age that understood about this type of stuff, that truly listened to me, and was able to talk about something serious like this...it gave me a rush. For some reason, I reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing his fingers. I expected him to pull away, but he didn't. He continued to stare absently down at the bed.
"So, haven't you ever gone to a support group? Talked to a counselor about it? Friends who had the same problem?"
"My mom didn't want to spend too much money, so she just took me to a doctor and stuff...but I never really talked to others about it."
"Jesus." He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. His other hand was still firmly gripped in my fingers. When he opened his eyes again, they looked like they were full of anger. I guessed he thought I should have been in a support group.
"Yeah, well, I could have talked nonstop for hours on end to someone, but it wouldn't have helped me to just stop throwing up. After some time, the body is so used to it that it does it naturally."
"Is that what happened a while ago? And, I think, is still happening now?"
"Yeah. I hadn't thrown up what we ate at lunch today in school yet."
I couldn't believe I was saying stuff like that to him and he was just looking concerned, but not scared. If I'd told any of my friends, they would have been freaking out.
"How old are you?" I asked abruptly. I had the sudden feeling that he was so much older than me. He acted so mature and so much like a grown-up. Maybe running away had put him a few years back in high school and he was actually supposed to be in college. He wasn't leaping into my pity party, but instead was trying to understand what I was going through.
He suddenly looked weary and he grinned. "How old am I? Oh, I'm ancient," he laughed, though his laugh was tired.
"What do you mean 'ancient?'" I asked. I thought maybe he meant he was experienced or something. He didn't answer me, though. He just flopped down onto the mattress and lay on his back next to me, pressing his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling.
Now that he was lying right next to me, I was able to gather the courage to inspect his face more closely than I'd dared to before. He had smooth, pale skin, and I noticed he didn't have any sign of blemishes, pimples, or anything. His eyelashes really were long, and his eyebrows weren't that hairy, but they weren't as thin as the girls made theirs, either. His long, indigo-violet hair was thrown back over the dark blue comforter, almost hiding in the camouflage. I wondered if it was his natural hair color, because it matched the color of his eyebrows. Guys don't paint their eyebrows. Then again, by then I was able to guess that Ken didn't do many things that normal guys usually do, and he did a lot of things that normal guys usually don't, which all meant that Ken was no normal guy.
I gathered up the courage to run a finger over his cheek. It was smooth and peachy. "Do you even shave yet?" I asked dryly.
"No."
"Well?"
He took my hand off his face and gently set it down on the bed next to me. He turned to look at me. "Be quiet and go to sleep, will you? I need to think."
"Don't think you have to help me solve my problems," I said, feeling as if I was being a burden on him by telling him about my bulimia. "I know you can't do anything about it."
His hand came down on the top of my head, yet again making me feel as if I was a great deal younger than he was. He rubbed my hair a little, still staring at the ceiling. I was sort of annoyed, because it made me feel like I was three, or he was sixty, or something.
"Takeru, please just go to sleep. I'm not saying I can help you, or that I can do anything about it. All I'm saying is you've got a lot of issues you need to work out."
"Issues? What issues?"
He started thumping his head gently against the wall. He slid his hand down from my hair to cover my eyes, making me close them.
"I'm not going to sleep on your bed," I told him.
"Then just try to relax. I need to think."
I didn't really have a choice. It was already too late to walk home by myself. I could see myself throwing up in the gutters and people passing me by and giving me the weirdest looks.
"Sometimes I have nightmares," I tried to warn him.
"Go figure."
I caught the sarcasm in his voice, but I didn't know how he'd know about my nightmares. "They're bloody. I don't wake up from them well."
"Do you scream? I can turn the radio on."
I felt sort of surprised that he'd do that for me. I couldn't believe anybody could possibly be so nice. "I don't scream...I'm just in a bad mood when I wake up."
"Worse than this?" He sounded surprised.
I laughed a little, and I felt mildly stunned when I felt tears filling up my eyes. I felt stupid. "Sorry if I upset you or anything."
He laced his fingers on his stomach and looked at me in shock that I would have expected when I'd told him about my bulimia, but didn't know what to make of it now.
"You're weird," I yawned. "Are you going to tell me how old you are?"
And then I fell asleep. I didn't have one of my bloody nightmares, but the dream was strange. I dreamed about Ken's arrival in Odaiba. He came walking out of the ocean on the beach, covered by mist, wearing something white...carrying something like a shiny backpack or fluorescent blankets on his back.
~ ~ ~ ~
A/N: Hah...Takeru is sleeping in Ken's bed. Yeah, sorry I sprung Takeru's bulimia on you guys so suddenly and all, but I was trying to show how well some people get at hiding their own problems from people after doing it for so long. Or something. I'm not completely sure yet. Hmm...can you guess what Ken was carrying on his back in the dream? ^-^' Sorry about the Takari bit, but I'll let you know now that Takeru is *not* interested in her like that, so you don't have to worry. Next chapter should be out soon. Key word being should. Please review?
