A/N: Here you go, all of you people that have been waiting forever for me to update this. Sorry it took so long. Hey, just be glad I continued, huh? Geez, it's been two months and one day. Well, here's the next chapter!

Same disclaimer, same warning.

Chapter Four: In Which Takeru Meets Two New Friends


The rule that states the largest-possible amount of restaurants one city block could possibly hold apparently never reached the island. I couldn't believe there were so many. Steak houses, Italian restaurants, Chinese restaurants, Japanese restaurants, and American fast-food places (I cringed at the sight of them while Ken rejoiced) were among the many types of restaurants lining the city streets. Ken looked impossibly happy. I felt like running back to the hospital, flinging myself onto a white bed, and refusing to move from that spot.

"Let's go in here," Ken said quickly, waving his arm out at the nearest fast-food restaurant.

"What the hell is with you and fast food?" I snapped.

"I want a slurpee," he explained.

"You are a slurpee maniac!" I accused.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the restaurant. I groaned and began weighing my chances of getting free if I struggled hard enough. I forgot about possible escape routes when he stopped in his tracks and gasped.

"What?" I asked, feeling suddenly paranoid.

"I just remembered, the school lets out around this time! I wonder if they're on their way home by now?" Ken pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. I gawked at it.

"You had a cell phone?"

"Shh," he held a finger up to his lips. He was silent for a few seconds, and then his face lit up. "Hey!"

He turned away from me and began talking into the phone. When he finally turned back to me, his grin was wider than ever.

"Guess what?"

"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're going to meet two of my best friends today!"

"Hooray," I said monotonously.

"Oh, come on, you could try to be a little more cheery than that."

"Ken," I said slowly, holding my arms out to indicate the restaurant, "I'm in hell."

"You're such a drama queen," he said, laughing. "I bet you'd fit right in at the school."

"What school are you talking about?"

"It's an art school just down the road. When I ran away, I attended that school so I wouldn't be missing out on two years of education or anything."

"You went to art school?" I asked incredulously. "Can you draw?"

"No, but I can act," he said cheerfully. "So, do you want me to order for you, or what?"

"You don't want to wait for your friends?" I asked quickly, stalling for time. I didn't want to have to face my challenge just yet. I wasn't in the mood for looking at or smelling food of any kind. I knew that I would take one look at the food and suddenly feel starved, and then I would know for sure that there was something wrong with me.

"They have salads," Ken said pointedly.

He knew I was stalling.

"Why did you have to choose a fast-food place, Ken?" I whined.

"The food here isn't as intense as at all of those other fancy restaurants and you know it," Ken said flatly. I looked away, sighing.

"What kinds of salads do they have?"

He smiled.

After he'd ordered, he lead me to what he called his "favorite spot to sit", in a corner of the restaurant, where you could look through the glass and see everyone that passed the restaurant by.

"They should be getting here pretty soon," Ken said, looking out the window.

I stared at the tabletop. I didn't feel like talking to any new people.

"There they are!" Ken cried. He slid out of the booth and ran to greet his friends.


I slowly pulled my head up to look for them, deciding it was useless to try to fight the inevitable.

Ken was walking back to the table, talking to two boys. One was short, with spiky red hair and a slightly dark tan, and the other was tall, blonde, and very skinny.

The redhead was hugging Ken's arm, saying, "Geez, Ken, we missed you so much. Sweetheart, your hair looks so cool. You're really growing it out long, huh? By the way, next time you decide to disappear on us, at least call me while you're gone."

I looked up at them as they stopped in front of the table.

"Wow, Ken, who's your cute new boyfriend?" Daisuke asked, raising his eyebrows and staring at me.

I felt my face grow hot.

"Guys, I want you to meet Takeru."

The redhead grinned and held his hand out. "My name's Daisuke. The scarecrow is Yamato."

I shook Daisuke's hand and smiled slightly. Yamato shoved Daisuke's shoulder.

"That isn't funny, Dai." Yamato smiled and shook my hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Are you guys hungry?" Ken asked.

"Starving," Daisuke replied, grinning.

Yamato smiled. "I guess I could have a little something. Get me fries or something, okay, Dai?"

Daisuke nodded. "Right. Fries." He began walking towards the front of the restaurant, repeating "fries" to himself under his breath.

"He's a little scatterbrained," Yamato explained.

I smiled tentatively. Ken grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Hey, loosen up. They're good people."

My eyes widened and I stared at Ken. Yamato had heard him say that! How could he have been so rude?

"Yeah, we don't bite, Takeru," Yamato said jokingly.

I looked at him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. He smiled at me.

"So, what's your deal?"

"Huh?"

"Are you an EDO, an AS, or what?"

I blinked.

"EDO is eating disorder and AS is attempted suicide," Ken explained.

I gawked at them both.

"He's an EDO, too, Yamato," Ken answered for me when I could only stare.

I couldn't believe he had just told a guy I barely knew one of my deepest, darkest secrets. I suddenly felt like slapping him. I didn't get the chance, though, because right then they called our number out and Ken rose to retrieve our food.

"Be right back," he called, walking to the front, passing Daisuke on the way, who was on his way back to the table.

"So what's up?" Daisuke asked as he plopped down next to Yamato.

"We have another EDO," the blonde announced, pointing at me.

"Really?" Daisuke grinned at me. "That's great. I guess you aren't the only one now, Yamato."

I moved my gawking from Daisuke to Yamato. "You, too?"

"Anorexia. It'll be three years next month," Yamato said, nodding.

"Oh, I don't have anorexia," I said. I shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, I don't think I have any eating disorders at all. I just have weird eating habits, that's all. There isn't really anything that wrong with me."

Daisuke and Yamato frowned at me. I felt very uncomfortable under all of the staring and frowning, and I felt great relief when Ken finally made it back to the table.

"Here's your salad, Takeru," he said, sliding my food over to me and sitting down next to me.

He pulled a hamburger out of a paper bag and began opening up the wrapper. The smell reached my nostrils and my face scrunched up involuntarily. I wondered if Ken knew how fat eating dead cow could make him.

"So how are things at the school?" Ken asked.

"Everyone misses you and keeps wondering where in the hell you went," Daisuke said, grinning. "And Uzumaki-san is still trying to make me un-gay somehow. He caught me in the back of the classroom, painting my toenails light blue. Want to see?"

"No, spare us your horrible-smelling feet," Yamato answered, holding a hand up.

"No thank you," Ken said, grinning.

"Honey, is the doctor making you eat just that salad?" Daisuke asked me.

I looked down at my salad. "Uh, yeah."

"Ugh, she's such a bitch," Yamato grumbled. "She should know better. If you do have this eating disorder thing, it's going to be hell keeping you away from food and from throwing up what you have in your stomach already."

I nod glumly. "I thought so."

I turned to listen to Daisuke chatter on to Ken about that teacher they had.

"Now he's trying to give me all of these really masculine roles. Like yesterday, he made me do Tybalt in Romeo and Juliet. He got mad because I wanted to play Mercutio so I could die. Finally, he ended up threatening my grade in his class if I didn't do Tybalt. I do a pretty good Tybalt, but that isn't gonna stop me from painting my toenails."

Ken was giggling madly and trying to drink through his straw at the same time.

Yamato told him not to do that so he wouldn't choke, and then Daisuke said he didn't even know Ken could choke.

"Lighten up, Yamato. That's what you're supposed to be doing, isn't it? Lightening up? Isn't that what the doctor ordered?"

Ken raised an eyebrow.

"Last week, Suzuki-san told me that I had to stop taking everything in life so fucking serious, so now I'm trying to be all happy and cheery and shit. I am doing my best."

"Yeah, he has been happier than he usually is," Daisuke admitted. "It's all of that therapy. Suzuki works wonders, I tell you."

"So you're in therapy for your eating disorder?" I asked Yamato.

"I also suffered from mild depression. I'm getting over that, though. All of the nice little Prozac pills are helping me out."

"Yamato's dad killed his mom," Daisuke explained. "And Yamato saw it. It traumatized him, to say the least."

I stared at them, my eyes as wide as they could be. Yamato shrugged. "I've had ten years to get over it. Talking about it doesn't affect me anymore."

"I'm so sorry," I blurted.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Like I said, it doesn't affect me anymore. I got to move in with my grandparents when my dad went to jail, and my grandparents are very nice, so it was cool, but then the kids at school started picking on me for looking feminine and, later on, for being gay." He shrugged. "But the school I go to now doesn't really care about that. We're art school kids, you know? There are more gay guys there than at any other school I know of around here. It isn't exactly a thing to shun around here."

I didn't quite know what to say after that. Really, what can you say after a confession like that? He just told me he was recovering from depression, saw his dad kill his mother, and that he was gay. I wasn't used to people spilling things like that on me when I had just met them. Looking them over now, I realized these kids had deep problems, and they probably had been aware of them so long that talking about them was a piece of cake by now. I looked at Ken. He was smiling gently at me, watching me take it all in. I wondered vaguely if he had brought these kids to talk to me on purpose, to sort of expand my horizons or open my mind.

"We had this class in school that was sort of like a therapy session. It was an exercise to get us into acting even more. I told the class about seeing my dad do what he did to my mom and I screamed just as loud there as I did when it actually happened. I even grabbed my chair and threw it across the room."

"What did the rest of the people do?" I asked, feeling very interested in these people suddenly.

"They didn't do anything. They had all had bad stuff happen to them, too. That's why we were all there. To listen to each other's bad stuff and get it off our own chests. In the end, it turned out that the people with the most anger and shitty pasts were the better actors."

Daisuke raised his hand. "My father used to beat me when I was younger. He would lock me in a closet for a whole day sometimes. Then, my mom would remember me and take me some food."

I didn't know whether to be more shocked at his father's violence or at the fact that he'd just told me all of that.

"How bad did he hurt you?"

"Pretty bad. Got hospitalized once, because my head flew into the TV screen and broke it. Had to get the glass removed from my skull. That was the worst thing he ever did to me, though."

I had to put my hand over my heart, feeling as if it was going to beat its way out of my chest.

"I got all the ice cream I wanted in that hospital. It was cool." Daisuke grinned.

"And I'm sure that's all you thought about in that hospital bed. Making yourself look even more pathetic to get free food," Yamato said dryly.

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing?" Daisuke gasped dramatically, bringing a hand up to his forehead so that the back of his palm lightly smacked it.

I felt a little bad part of my neighborhood peel away - the part that feels like you have to judge people and you have to look and act just like everyone else so no one notices you aren't normal. Sitting and talking with Daisuke and Yamato, I felt refreshed, knowing I didn't have to wear the mask around them. They had an attitude that was like 'like-me-or-see-if-I-care'. I liked them.

"This year's Christmas play is going to be so boring without you, Ken," Daisuke whined. "Your performance in it last year was awesome! Everyone wants you to come back and play the same role. What was it, again? The thing you had to be?"

"A floating angel," Ken replied, casting a side-glance at me.

I turned to stare at him. I suddenly wanted to be able to watch that play.

"Yeah, that!" Daisuke continued. "Man, Takeru, if only you could have seen it. Ken was dressed in these white robes and standing up tall and fierce. He's such a great actor. I'll tell you, if you ever put a bug in another kid's juice when you were small or pulled on your big sister's ponytail or lied to your parents, just a look from Ken would have made you remember every little sin and regret every one of them. You would suddenly want to go and find the best-tasting juice in the world and give it to that kid. And you know what? He never even had to raise his voice once."

"Yeah, he turned to the audience and gave us this look - like he was going to make the whole freaking auditorium explode any second or something. Everyone straightened up when he looked at them, that's for sure. And that costume he had to wear - you'd have expected people to groan and say 'Too much faggotry', because, you know, even our school isn't above it all, but the second Ken stepped onto the stage, you just froze and forgot about anything else."

Ken was still staring hard at me, hand resting against his face as it held the straw to his lips. I thought he was hiding a grin. His eyes seemed to be laughing.

"I want to see a video of that play. This isn't the first time today I've had a conversation about floating angels," I tell Daisuke and Yamato.

"I wonder if Uzumaki-san has a tape? I can ask for you," Daisuke offered.

"That'd be great," I said, smiling. "I want to make sure Ken doesn't have wings sprouting from his back that you can only see when the light shines off of them just right."

Daisuke laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised. Hey, Ken, give me your address and phone number, so I can find you later if I need you." He grabbed a pen from out of his pocket and tossed it to Ken.

Ken was still grinning widely at me and giving me that deep, searching look. I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"He wants you to believe he really is one of those things," Yamato told me. He giggled.

I thought that would tear Ken's eyes away from me, but it didn't. He slowly lowered his hands and pointed them square at the center of my chest. When he spoke, it wasn't in the icy tone I'd been expecting, but in a quiet, soft voice.

"I was just noticing what you were doing while you were talking to Daisuke and Yamato."

I looked down. I hadn't even finished my salad yet. There was very little of it left, of course, but I was surprised I hadn't consumed it all right away.