A/N: Finally. It's done. I've been working on this chapter on and off for over three months, suffered from various stages of writer's block, paranoia and plain disinterest, then five days ago, after writing an email at length on the subject, it started to write itself.
But it didn't beta itself, and large amounts of gratitude go to diamond dew, who is the best beta I could possibly have. Also, big thanks to Ishshi, who, along with Dew, has never given up on this fic, in spite of the many false starts it has had, something that's meant a great deal to me.
I also need to thank everyone who's reviewed this fic so far, you've all said such wonderful, motivational things! Thank you so much, and I really hope you're not disappointed. A good way to let me know is to leave a review or email me... *flutters eyelashes winsomely and inclines subtly towards the review button*
HEARING
Have you ever had that feeling that things can't get much better... and it turns out to be right?
Everything was just comfortable. School was going okay, I was beyblading enough that I didn't rusty, but I was still spending an awful lot of time with my friends - and especially Max.
I never quite figured out what we were at that time, but this laughing, blonde kid was still my friend, and whatever else might have built up around it, that hadn't changed. We still watched movies, we still played video games together, and we still went to the park to beyblade.
Which is where this all began. Kenny, after examining our blading critically for two hours, had pronounced our beyblades in need of a tune-up, and had just gone home to work out some ideas. Max and I were seeing how high we could spin our blades up the walls when he suddenly came out with, "By the way, you haven't forgotten have you?"
"Forgotten what?"
He gave me a mock stern eyebrow-raise. "If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you!"
"But if you don't tell me, then how am I supposed to remember?" I returned, and he laughed at our well-honed routine, just as he always did. Not that I ever got sick of him laughing or anything; let's face it, who could?
"The party tomorrow. We're still going, right?"
I'd forgotten all about it. "I suppose I could fit it in," I said nonchalantly, and he chuckled.
"Well hey, if you're that busy, I'll tell her not to save you any cake. After all, what's the point in keeping you a slice if you won't have time to eat it?"
"Don't joke about things like that!"
He laughed again as he collected his blade. "So, are you coming or not?"
The party he was talking about was for the birthday of some girl from his old town, and the fact is that I wouldn't have missed it for the world. It was the chance I'd been looking for to really get a glimpse of Max's old life - and besides, he said her mom and dad were really going all out with the budget for the buffet.
I nodded firmly. "Count me in." He beamed at me, and I felt a little warmer.
"So, what should I wear?" I asked, recalling Dragoon to my palm and tucking my launcher away.
"Oh, I don't know, clothes?"
"Very funny, Einstein, but what kind of clothes? Is it a dressed up party or what?"
He shook his head. "Normal clothes, Tyson. It doesn't really matter anyway, they're just my friends, you know?"
Why do people do that? Why do they just assume that their friends are so great that a complete stranger will love them instantly? More to the point, why do they assume their friends will love the complete stranger right back?
I sighed, thinking wistfully of the days when I didn't care about all that stuff. I was just me, people were just people, and they could think what they wanted about me before I gave a damn. I don't know when that all changed, but I really wish it hadn't.
"Hey," Max said softly, "Don't worry about it." I felt his hand slip into mine and I didn't even have to think about it before our fingers intertwined. That's one of the changes I definitely don't mind; I don't know why, but I guess I do feel sort of... I don't know. Reassured, I guess, when Max holds my hand like that.
I'm less reassured when he grabs my hat, yanks it off my head and holds it as high in the air as he can. Jerk. Just because he's, what, two millimetres taller than I am, that doesn't mean he has to abuse it!
After a couple of minutes of chasing after him, I eventually got close enough for an American football style tackle, and we crashed to the ground. I started again to tell him to give me my hat back, and he jammed it into my mouth.
"That's not funny!" I said, more occupied with spitting out hat than with his loud laughter.
"Yes it is!" he managed to say, creasing up again as I tried to wipe my tongue on my sleeve.
"Seriously, I don't think this thing's ever seen a washing machine, I could die from just inhaling it!"
He looked at me quizzically. "Tyson, when was the last time you inhaled a hat?"
"Don't change the subject!"
Before I could carry on, he leaned in and kissed me, another example of his constant power abuse.
"You taste of hat," he said in distaste, wrinkling his nose.
"At least when I die of hat poisoning, you'll be right there with me," I said, mollified. "But that still counts as changing the subject, and I'm still telling you to stop!"
He grinned at me. "Look, honestly, as long as you turn up with a present, nobody's going to care what you're wearing!"
Houston, we have a problem.
"Yeah, guess you're right," I said, smiling weakly.
Kenny showed up at my house later on, just as I was hunting for something that could be given to a girl for her birthday.
"Why on earth didn't you think of this before?" he said as disapprovingly as always.
"I completely forgot that it was tomorrow! Here, what do you think?"
He looked at the ornament I'd just unearthed and sighed. "Tyson, she'll know in about two seconds flat that you dug that out from a cupboard the night before."
"You think?" I examined the ornament, decided the Chief was right and tossed it back in the cupboard, slamming the doors hard before everything I'd uprooted fell down on me. "Thanks a lot Chief, now what am I going to do?"
When I realised that he wasn't saying anything, I turned to face him in surprise. The Chief always has something to say, even if it's just to tell me how disorganised I am.
"Yo, Kenny."
I expected him to snap out of whatever funk he was in, tell me it was my own fault I didn't remember a gift sooner - but he didn't. Instead, he continued staring really hard at his shoes, like they'd run away if he wasn't careful. I clambered down from the shelves I'd just been investigating. "Earth to Kenny. What's up?"
"Tyson, this is hard for me to talk about..."
Uh-oh. That was it, I knew for certain that something was up. Now, I know I'm not exactly the world's most sensitive guy, and I don't take hints very well, but that's just it: Kenny doesn't hint, and he doesn't find things hard to say. Sometimes this doesn't go down too well with people who'd rather he use a bit of tact, but I like the way he doesn't think too hard about what he says before it's out of his mouth.
I perched on the armchair across from him and leaned forward. "Yeah, what is it?"
He glanced up at me, then looked away very quickly, like he'd done something wrong. "Tyson," he began, and it was obvious that this was taking a lot of effort. By this time, I was leaning forward so far I should have fallen off.
"Earlier on today... At the park..."
I racked my brains, trying to figure out if I'd done anything wrong then. Nothing beyond the usual, and the Chief had seemed fine through the whole thing. Not swallowing his words, not looking away from me, and definitely not going red.
"Yeah?" I prompted, more curious than ever. Unusually enough for the Chief, he seemed to be searching for a tactful way to put it.
Apparently it didn't work, because he said in a rush, "I saw you and Max!"
I felt my breathing quicken.
How much? How much did you see? I wanted to scream, but that's the one question that just can't be phrased without becoming pointless.
He was bright red by that time, but forcing himself to carry on. "I wasn't spying on you, honest, I came back to pick up a disk I'd left behind, by accident, and I saw you two... Well, you know. You were there," he finished lamely. I have no idea if he was looking at me or not, seeing as I'd suddenly found my own shoes in need of attention.
At this moment, I entered into the most awkward silence of my life. Neither of us wanted to say a thing, and frankly, I think Kenny's got some guts getting that far in the first place.
Not that I was thinking this at that moment, obviously. In fact, I wasn't really thinking at all, and I think that became pretty clear when I started talking.
I said smoothly, "Oh, you saw us beyblading?" and was overwhelmed by my brilliance as a liar.
"No, Tyson, I saw you holding hands."
While one part of me died right there, another part, a thinking part, recognised that this was manageable. The Chief's not too social a guy, and with a bit of persuasion, you could probably convince him that drinking gasoline is acceptable Friday night behaviour as long as it's in a glass with a paper umbrella.
So I grinned - partly out of relief - and said, "Aww, Maxie and me were just kidding around, you know that! Don't you do that with your friends, Kenny?"
"No, and I don't k-kiss them either."
I froze.
He'd almost choked getting the words out, but not as severely as I did when I heard them. There were plenty of thoughts in my head, but I couldn't focus on any of them enough to make sense in my mind, and instead, it just kept going back to one, hammering fact.
He knows.
"I didn't want to say anything, but I figured I have to say something, so I just wanted to, um, say that-"
"Get out."
"What?" He sounded as appalled as I would if a friend of mine was that rude to me, but like I said, I really wasn't thinking at the time.
I jumped out of my chair. "You can't just come into my house and accuse me of something like this! Get out!"
"Tyson, I haven't accused you of anything!" he said, bewildered.
"You're accusing me of kissing another guy!"
"Well, weren't you?"
Too late I realised that denial would have definitely been a way to go about, oh, thirty-eight seconds before - but I tried it anyway. After all, my worst fears had come true, what did I have to lose?
"How do you know I was?" I said defiantly, folding my arms.
"Because I saw you!"
"And you just jumped to conclusions?"
He sighed with even more frustration than before. "Look, Tyson, I just came here to say that it doesn't bother me if you were kissing Max-"
"I wasn't!" What can I say, I'm not one to take defeat lying down.
"And," he ploughed on, "It really doesn't bother me if you're-"
"I'M NOT!"
He went quiet. I couldn't completely tell, but it felt like he was studying me, exactly the way Max does - but at the thought of Max, I felt suddenly sick, so I pushed it to one side.
"Okay, Tyson," he said finally. "I just wanted to say that no matter what, none of it matters to me, but I just wish you'd told me. After all, if there's something that could affect your beyblading-"
I cut him off with a snort. "That's a laugh, Kenny! You're not here because of the team!"
He went silent again, and if I hadn't have been so mad at him, I would have felt sorry for him.
"No," he said, barely audibly. "You're right, I'm not."
I was - to put it mildly - a little surprised. I've been told before that I don't make too much sense when I'm angry, and the idea that I might have been right about something took me completely off guard.
Kenny seemed to be struggling to speak, but I was damned if I was going to make it easier for him.
"It's... I'm... I mean..." He paused, evidently trying to gather his thoughts. "I just... Well..." He gave up, took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out slowly. Suddenly, the Chief seemed very young.
"Tyson, it's... It's hard, do you know that?"
I didn't, because I had no idea what he was talking about.
"It's really hard trying to be your friend."
Half of me jumped to my own defence, but the other half softened slightly. Out of plain confusion, I didn't do or say a thing, just kept trying to look insulted and aloof.
"You have all these fans who send you letters, who stop you in the street and ask you for autographs, or who turn up at your house just because they want to speak to you! It's hard to be the person standing next to you when they do that."
What do they ask you in interviews, Tyson?
I sighed inwardly. Why does everyone around me act like it's my fault I get so much attention? It's not like any of them want it anyway, and seeing as someone has to deal with the fans, it might as well be me!
"But that's okay, most of the time. It's hard to get your attention, but I know you were my friend first, so it's okay."
Get my attention? I had no idea what he was talking about, getting my attention isn't exactly difficult! But he was still going somewhere with it, and I still didn't want to talk to him, so I bit back any reply I could have made.
"But for a while now, it's like you didn't want to be my friend anymore."
He was even redder now. As difficult as it was for him to talk about my personal life, it was much more difficult for him to talk about his own, that much was clear. The part of me that had jumped to my own defence pulled back slightly.
"To find out that you've had such a major thing happen in your life and you haven't said a word about it... I feel like one of your groupies. I just wish you'd said something."
And at that moment, when I actually wanted to say something, I couldn't think of anything to say.
"Don't worry," he said, turning towards the door, "I'm going now. That's all I wanted you to know."
He'd only walked into my room ten minutes ago, if that, but in ten minutes or less, he'd ruined my life.
I heard him say goodbye to my grandfather, and I heard the front door open and shut. Then I heard Grandpa switch on the television and start on dinner, singing along to that stupid game show jingle, just the way he always did.
For the first time, I wondered how I was going to tell Max.
I swear, it was like my stomach suddenly rebelled. I felt my throat tighten and ran to the bathroom, only just making it in time. I didn't even get a chance to lock the door.
"Little dude? Is everything hip to the hop?"
I hadn't thrown up in about eight years, and I was totally embarrassed, especially when I started welling up. Throwing up and crying, could I be any more like a four-year-old?
But at the time, I couldn't do anything but stand over the toilet and feel disgusting, so that's what I did.
And, as it turns out, it was okay. I suppose it's easy enough to forget that when I was a kid, it was my grandpa who took care of me, and that hasn't changed. He got me a glass of water, sent me to bed and brought up some toast later on. I know I wasn't really sick, but I sure felt it, and really appreciated not having to do anything that evening. The only real problem with it was that with nothing to distract me, I remembered what had happened every two seconds, so every two seconds, I realised what I had to do, and felt like I wanted to die. Not a fun night.
At least I got some plans made though. Once the thought of Max didn't make me gag anymore, I thought things through rationally. I figured I had to tell him sooner or later - it's kind of an important thing - so it might as well be the next time I saw him. I decided to tell him after the party, so that at least he'd have a good time while he was there. I worked out the exact words I would use, and I got my facial expressions just perfect. It was a carefully planned operation, and I was determined to get it right.
"You know, Lucy's name isn't really Lucy, it's Mitsu. She just wanted to have an American-sounding name, and she found out they both have the same-"
"Kenny saw us kissing."
Seriously, wait till after the party, was I insane?! It had been hard enough not to tell him straight away on the platform at the station!
He looked up at me sharply and seemed almost suspicious, like he expected it to be the joke I wish it was. But it wasn't, and I met his gaze as seriously as I could.
He went pale.
I remembered confidently all the phrases I'd planned the night before, all of them carefully calculated to calm him down once the horror of it all sank in.
"Well," he said, sounding resigned, "We knew this would happen sooner or later."
I choked. "We did?" I managed to say.
He looked at me in surprise. "Tyson, did you honestly think no-one would notice what was going on?"
"Well, why should they?" I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't tell Kenny, did you?"
Max laughed. "Tyson, that's lame and you know it! Why would I?"
"You don't seem to mind too much that he's found out!" It was true. I'd spent the evening in bed, but Max had recovered in about forty-seven seconds flat. "Why else wouldn't you mind unless you'd told him?"
"Maybe because I knew this would happen?" he said with a slight smile that infuriated me. I couldn't believe it. All of my planning to soothe him, and I was the one getting mad!
"I can't believe you're just okay with this!" I said furiously. "Think about it, if Kenny tells Rei-"
"If Kenny tells Rei, which he won't, then Rei will know," Max said gently. "Tyson, these are our friends, they were going to find out what was going on at some point."
"But there's nothing going on!" Max looked taken aback at this, but also a little amused. "We're just friends, that's all, just more than most people are!"
One of his hands twitched.
I recognised that twitch, from the awkward days after he first tried to kiss me. He'd been going to hold my hand.
And thank God he didn't. If he'd have touched me, or even come near me at that moment, I probably would have hit him as hard as I could, and we could have been in broken nose territory.
I was torn apart when I saw that twitch though. One side of me was desperate for him to ignore what I wanted, to take my hand anyway, but another side wanted to throw him out of the train for daring to even consider such a thing. The most objective part of me thought how sad it was that after all this time, we'd suddenly gone back to that stage.
The train, which had been slowing down all this time, finally drew to a halt. Max stood up.
"Tyson... We'll talk later, okay?"
"There's nothing to talk about."
Possibly the stupidest thing I've ever said, but he just nodded, picked up his bag and walked out of the carriage.
I stepped off the train into a crowd of people, and noisy people at that. Looking over at Max, I could see that he was being embraced and cooed over by a whole bunch of girls - who, I couldn't help noticing, didn't exactly suffer in the looks department. Bitterly, I dubbed them his harem before realising that not all of it was female and not all of it was concentrating on him.
"Oh my gosh! You're really Tyson, aren't you?"
"Of course it's really him, don't be stupid!"
"Hey, have you got your beyblade with you?"
"Yeah, do you have Dragoon?"
"You should battle me, Tyson, I'm pretty good!"
"But not as good as me, fight me first!"
This happens all the time, and then some. I plastered on a grin and gave them the automatic responses I give everyone, at the same time trying to sneak a sideways glance at Max.
He was in his element. All these girls were hugging him, jumping up and down, ruffling his hair - basically, they were being girlish, and it was pretty obvious they worshipped him. A girl with her hair dyed blonde actually kissed his cheek at one point, after he handed her a present.
Something clicked.
Lucy. That's whose party it was. That girl over there, with her long blonde hair and stupid short skirt was Lucy, the girl who loved all things American - which apparently included Max.
This was the girl who'd taught Max how to kiss.
As I wondered if that meant indirectly, she'd taught me how to kiss as well, the train pulled away behind me.
"Hey, Tyson, is Rei really that cute?"
I wished I was on it.
I don't know how I carried on talking, but soon we were in this girl Lucy's house drinking warm fizzy drinks from plastic cups, and I was still in a conversation with the adoring crowd around me.
Actually, it sort of helped. I mean, the more they talked to me, the less typical their questions got, and I had to concentrate harder on answering. Every now and then, I'd forget what was going on - which was great and all, but it meant that when it did come back, it hit me like a truck.
Things got better after people got the answers they wanted, then remembered they were at a party and went off to dance or something. After a while there were few enough people that I could get up and walk away without too much trouble.
I sat on the front doorstep, breathing as deeply as my grandpa had taught me to, trying to get rid of this feeling sucking at my chest.
"You didn't look too happy in there."
It was some girl, one of Max's harem. I would have normally found some excuse to get away, but where was I going to go? Besides, she obviously wasn't here by accident; I figured even if I did leave, she'd find me again, and this was a less stifling place than most.
"Mind if I sit down?"
Her voice was soft, easy on the ears, so I said, "Go ahead," and indicated the space next to me.
She sat delicately, moving carefully and tucking her clothes in various ways to keep everything hidden that should be. I've never really thought about girls' party outfits before, but they're pretty impractical. It was weird to think that she had to go through that tucking ritual every time she sat down.
"So," she said kindly, "What's wrong?"
"Why do you think something's wrong?" It was half-hearted, but I was at a birthday party; common courtesy insists you have to at least make the attempt.
"Oh, please," she said dismissively. "Boys are so dense, they couldn't tell a thing, but any girl just had to look at you to know you were having a terrible time in there!"
For a brief, alarming moment, I wondered if it was true.
"I wasn't having a terrible time!"
"Well, maybe not terrible," she conceded, "But not like you wanted to be there."
I nodded, pretty sure that wasn't offensive enough to cause any problems for Max. Then I remembered - why did I care? As of Kenny's visit, I had problems of the huge variety and he didn't give a damn, so why should I?
But I diverted this train of thought, determined to keep Max out of my mind .
"So you and Max are pretty good friends?"
Apparently this wasn't an option.
"Sure," I said guardedly, trying to control the panic rising inside me. What has she heard? Has Max said anything? Has he-
"Has he ever mentioned me?"
A lesson in being self-absorbed: you're not the only one. This particular night, I was extremely grateful for that fact.
"The only friend he's ever mentioned is Lucy. She's the one with blonde hair, right?"
The girl nodded, sort of sadly. "Yes, that's her." She sighed, and tilted her head upwards. I followed her line of sight and found myself looking into the stars. Great, I thought sourly. That's all I need, to feel totally insignificant.
"It figures she'd be the one he talks about, they were pretty close when he lived here. You know," she said, leaning in slightly and speaking in tones of confidentiality, "A lot of people think they'll get back together tonight, have a long distance relationship. She's really missed him."
And the blows just kept on coming. All I could do was sit and nod dumbly, trying to hide the storm of thoughts in my head.
Has she asked him yet?
Will he say yes?
Are they in her bedroom right now?
What are they doing?
"Of course," she continued obliviously, "That's unless he has a girlfriend where he lives now. Does he have a girlfriend?"
I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've ever wished I could answer differently. I shook my head. "No, Max doesn't have a girlfriend."
"Do you?"
"No," I said automatically, and was rewarded with softness, as her lips pressed against mine.
I won't say it wasn't nice. I'd had a pretty rough twenty-four hours, and some uncomplicated sympathy was exactly what I needed. Of course, ordinarily I'd get that from Max...
I kissed her more firmly.
I've come a long way from that first clumsy encounter on Max's doorstep, and could kiss without thinking about it, which is exactly what I did. Well, exactly what I tried to do. She didn't tilt her head the right way, and she didn't open her mouth widely enough, and her tongue was just in the wrong place, so I actually had to pay attention and focus on compensating for that.
I don't mean that it was a bad kiss; after all, once we'd ironed out those little things, we settled into it a pretty nice rhythm. Only this rhythm was too slow, and her part in it was too soft. I tried to push her to move more quickly, to fight back a little, but it wasn't long before I gave up.
The fact is, she wasn't Max.
It had never really occurred to me before that people might kiss differently. I mean, it's obvious now, but at the time I was almost bored, waiting for the spark to kick in, where it stops being mechanical and starts being fun.
It never did. It was soft, it was comforting, it was sweet, but it wasn't exciting. It wasn't even interesting, once the novelty factor of kissing a girl wore off - and it was never fun.
Her hand, resting on my chest, slid downwards to my waistband. Startled, I broke off the kiss, snagged her wrist and moved her hand away.
It hit me that if that had been Max, I would have let him. It didn't matter what it was he had planned, I would have let him do it. I probably wouldn't have even stopped kissing him.
I realised that the moment I'd moved her hand away from my stomach, I'd let go of it. There have been so many times I've grabbed hold of Max's wrist - if only to stop him from grabbing my hat - and it's been a long time since I just let go of it without thinking. Usually we don't even let go, just end up holding hands.
I didn't know what it was about Max that made him so different, but when we did stuff like this, it felt more than nice. This girl was nothing special.
Which meant that Max was.
A smile crept over my face. Max was special. This girl had been right: boys are dense. I hadn't even noticed that he was so important to me, and after my last words to him on the train, I had to let him know that, as soon as possible.
"Thank you," I whispered to the girl, who looked more confused than ever. Who knows, I might have been the first guy ever to turn her down, she really was very pretty.
"You're welcome?"
I grinned at her as I stood to go back inside.
I spotted him easily, surrounded by various members of his harem and with Lucy practically hanging off his arm. For a moment, I just stood and watched. He was really something to look at, even amongst all those girls. He stood out, and not just because he was blonde.
He didn't need to hold my hand to reassure me this time; just by seeing him, I was certain that on the train that night, we'd get everything sorted out. We'd figure out something to tell Kenny to put him off the scent, and we'd be more careful in the future. It'd be okay. I wouldn't have to lose him.
"Hey, Max!" I called out.
"Oh, there he is!" Max said loudly when he saw me. "Sorry guys, we have to go, or we'll miss the last train."
There was a chorus of disappointment, and lots of people snatched at my attention for the last few minutes, but I just wanted to get away from there, to be alone with Max so I could tell him what I'd figured out.
"Max," I hissed urgently as soon as we stepped out of the house. "I need to-"
"Not now, Tyson," he said shortly.
"But I just need to tell you-"
He broke into a run. Apparently, those last few minutes had cost us a lot, so I ran after him.
Max loves to run, and actually does it for fun. Me? I was staggering and on the verge of collapse a quarter-mile down the road. He kept on going though, so I had to force myself to keep up.
It was pretty humiliating when we got to the train station and I realised he hadn't even broken a sweat. I was out of breath for quite a few minutes afterwards.
Quite a few? Following a bit of a theme of that night, something clicked.
"Hey, Max," I said, perplexed, "Is the train late or something?"
"No. We're early."
I stared. "You mean I ran for nothing?"
"Yes."
Something was wrong. That should have been followed by a laugh. Examining the timetable display, I made another discovery. "Max, this isn't the last train."
"I know."
"But-"
"I lied."
Something was very, very wrong. I'd never known Max to lie in his life, and to say it in that tone, with that lack of expression... It was actually chilling. I was desperate to know what was wrong.
"Max-"
"Not now, Tyson."
I prickled. "Hey-"
"Not here, and not now."
I resented the fact that he thought he could order me around, but there were people on the platform with us, so I decided not to push it. Besides, hearing Max speak like that was intimidating, to say the least. So I settled back, and tried to work out on my own what could have gone wrong. A few minutes later, it struck me.
A lot of people think they'll get back together tonight.
Of course. Lucy. It was obvious once I put it together. I wondered what she'd said to make Max so mad, but I'm not a girl, I couldn't figure it out. I always thought they were more tactful than us, but I guess even girls can hurt people, and she'd probably been pretty disappointed after he turned her down, even though she'd hidden it pretty well when she was downstairs.
Or maybe she didn't look disappointed because she hadn't been disappointed...
My breathing sped up, but it was obvious Max didn't want to talk there and then, so I stayed in silence and breathed a sigh of relief when the train finally pulled up. The moment we stepped on it, I tried again, saying, "Max, listen-"
"Not here."
I began to get annoyed. "Then where do you plan on-"
He grabbed my shoulder and shoved me hard into the nearest carriage.
I've never really wondered if I could take Max in a fight - but I've never seriously considered that he might be able to take me.
"Whoa!" I cried out, more than a little annoyed. "Max, what's this all about? Something's been eating you since the party, and I want to know what it is!"
On the plus side, I got to finish a sentence for the first time in an hour. On the minus side, also for the first time in an hour, Max made eye contact with me.
Did I say his voice was intimidating? Multiply that by ten and stick it in his eyes.
"Listen," I said, trying for gentle and sympathetic, even though really I was burning mad, "I don't know what Lucy said to you, but-"
"Lucy?" he said, his brow furrowing in disbelief.
"Yeah, Lucy!" I could feel my irritation taking over. "Pretty, blonde, used to go out with you, remember her?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Tyson!" he snapped. "This isn't about Lucy!"
"So she didn't ask you to get back with her tonight?" I challenged.
He looked at me like I was insane. "Yes, she did, not that it's any of your business!"
I was incensed. "Not my business?" I said heatedly. "How is it not my business if you're-"
"Tyson, it stopped being your business when you kissed Kagami!"
So he was going to use that as an excuse. "Max, I didn't even know her name!" I yelled, fed up with this whole thing. "It's not the same as getting a whole girlfriend! Besides, she kissed me, I didn't go looking for it or-"
He punched me.
It took about four seconds of reeling to actually understand what had just happened, to realise that Max had hit me. Hard. And it hurt.
It was only another two seconds before I hit him back.
And that's how my first fight began. This wasn't an "I've got your hat, ha ha" kind of playing, but a real fight, where we both just wanted to hurt each other as much as possible.
It stopped being Max I was hitting, and soon I was just caught up in the need to get rid of all the tension that had begun the moment Kenny walked in the day before. I lashed out, not caring what I was doing as long as there was a chance I was inflicting some pain while doing it.
It probably didn't last as long as it felt, but it ended what felt like ten minutes later, with Max pinning me on the train carriage floor, his knee in my back.
"It doesn't matter," he rasped, breathing hard, "If she kissed you! The point is that you kissed back."
"But I-"
"Shut up, Tyson!" he shouted through gritted teeth, clenching his hands tightly into fists - unfortunately for me, one of them in my hair at the time, and I winced. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to kiss her, the point is that you did! And it really doesn't matter if you didn't even know her name! The point is that you know mine, and you either forgot it or didn't care about it when she came on to you!"
He relaxed his hold slightly, but I didn't even shift until he'd actually moved away.
We sat in that train carriage, trying to glare at each other without actually making eye contact.
"Can I talk now?" I asked quietly.
"Go ahead; it won't make any difference."
"I don't know how you can be so self-righteous when you and your ex-girlfriend-"
He rolled his eyes. "Ah, Tyson, would you let it go? Nothing happened!"
"You don't need to lie to me, Max!" I said, raising my voice to match his. "You already said she asked you back!"
"Yes, she did!"
"Then why don't you just admit-"
"I told her I was in love with someone else!" he screamed.
And there it was. The first time someone's ever told me they're in love with me.
Honestly, I would have rather he hit me again.
He looked away from me, flushed, and I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or just plain angry. Maybe it was a mixture; I know I couldn't pick one emotion and stick with it that night.
In the silence that followed, I felt some of my anger ebbing away, but I didn't want to give up that easily.
"So why didn't you just-"
"My God, Tyson!" he yelled in exasperation. "You're such a child!"
I bristled. "Say that again!"
"You. Are. A. Child," he said bitingly, each word loaded with rage. "You can't even admit, just for once, that you might be wrong about something!"
"You think I'm the one who's wrong here?" I couldn't believe how arrogant he was!
He looked incredulously at me. "Go on then. I'm waiting. Tell me what I've done wrong."
I said the first thing that came to my mind. "You just brushed off what I told you about Kenny this afternoon!"
I expected him to blow up at me again, but instead, he slumped back into his seat. "I thought that might be what this is all really about," he said lifelessly.
"You just acted like it didn't even matter," I said cautiously, wondering just where all his anger had gone.
"Maybe because to me, it doesn't matter," he said, drawing his knees up to his chin.
"But why not?" I asked involuntarily, bowled over by the very idea that this might not be as big a deal to him as it was to me.
"I know what I think, and I know what I feel, and if people I like and trust find out about it, it's something I have to be ready to deal with." He rested his chin on his arms, which, for the first time, I noticed were scratched. Had I really done that?
"One person." His voice shook, and I realised that his anger hadn't gone, just been swallowed. "One person finds out about us... and you just give up. That's it, gone." He gazed out of the window. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I saw you with Kagami?"
His words sounded distant, like they were coming from somewhere far away - or maybe somewhere deep down. I've heard Max talk like this before, when he told me about his parents' separation, and when he started dwelling on why his mom was keeping her distance from him. Did this mean that to Max, me kissing that girl was in the same league as his parents splitting up?
Suddenly, everything twisted around and blurred together, and while some things faded away, others came sharply into view.
I'd been using this Lucy thing as an excuse to rail at him, but the fact is, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Max would never agree to something like that without telling me first.
I also knew that Max would never agree to something like that. He'd made it perfectly clear that he only saw Lucy as a friend. It was also very clear that Max wasn't attracted to girls anyway. In fact, he'd now even said he was in love with me, to a girl who wanted to be with him every bit as much as I did.
To walk away from that to see me kissing somebody else...
I felt terrible. "I do now," I whispered, praying he'd believe me.
He just nodded, staring out of the window as he had been since we stopped yelling and started talking.
"You know, I couldn't wait to get here."
"The train?" I asked stupidly, before realising he had to be talking about Lucy's house or our home town, but he actually nodded.
"Yeah, the train. I spent all evening waiting to be able to get out of there so I could talk to you about what Kenny said."
He'd been surrounded by friends, good friends he hadn't seen for ages - and he'd been thinking of me the whole time.
I felt a little worse.
"I don't know how you feel about this, but-" He stopped and frowned. "Actually, you know what? That's part of the problem. I don't know how you feel about this. I know how I feel about it - and now you do too - but I have no idea what you're thinking right now."
"I'm thinking that I'm sorry," I blurted out, and it earned me the first eye contact of the conversation, a surprised glance from Max. Surprised, but also sad. Convinced that no response was better than some of the responses I'd had that night, I carried on talking. "I didn't know... lots of things. I didn't know you wanted to get out of there as much as I did, or I would have asked if we could go sooner."
"I didn't know if you were still mad or not." He sounded tired, his voice as heavy as the expression in his eyes. "I wanted to give you time to cool off before we talked." He smiled ruefully. "Guess that didn't quite work, huh?"
I smiled back, relieved. This was it. I knew it would only be a moment before he came and sat next to me, or reached over and took my hand. By the time we got back home, everything would be normal again.
He didn't even twitch.
The train began to lose speed. We both looked apprehensively at each other; time was running out.
"Tyson," Max said hesitantly, "When Kenny spoke to you yesterday, did you deny everything?"
I sighed. "Yeah. I told him to get out as well, I really need to apologise for that."
"I want to be able to tell Kenny that he's right." He said it so calmly, so resolutely that I knew this wasn't something he'd just thought of.
I swallowed. "What do you mean?" I wished he'd stop saying such horrible things, just reassure me and tell me exactly what I wanted to hear - the way he'd always done before.
"I don't mean I want to tell the world or anything, but he found out, so I want to be able to tell him that he's right. I don't want to have to go through this every time someone might have found out." He seemed to flinch as he said, "I don't want to have to go through this ever again."
There was a pause. "So... what do you want me to do?" I asked uneasily, dreading his verdict.
"I've been so afraid of scaring you off by trying to stick a label on us that I haven't even mentioned it," he said in a subdued voice, "But I can't do that anymore. Either we're an us, or you're a you and I'm a me. I can't... I can't deal with the idea that you might forget my name again, like you did tonight."
"I didn't forget," I interjected, feeling myself start to sweat. "I was trying to, but I didn't. I couldn't."
He softened. "That's good to know... But it still doesn't solve anything. I need a yes or a no, at least for the next time I see Kenny."
Yes. Say yes. Say it now.
A million and one thoughts whirled around my head until I felt like a tumbledryer. It'd be so nice to not have to drop Max's hand every time Kenny came round, or watch what I say in front of him. Kenny had already said he was feeling left out, so that meant he'd feel better if we were just ourselves in front of him, right?
I was so close to saying yes, it was on the tip of my tongue...
"It doesn't bother me if you were kissing Max."
"It doesn't bother me if you're-"
I went cold. All the red thoughts in my head became blue, and I couldn't say it anymore.
"Can't..." I started, then swallowed and tried again. "Can't we just go back to the way we were?"
And just like that, I ripped his world apart. You didn't have to be a girl to see that.
He shook his head slowly. "No, we can't" he said miserably. "We can go back to being just normal friends - but that's the only step back I'm willing to take. And I'm not even sure we can do that," he added, though it seemed more to himself than to me.
Say yes! Quickly, tell him you didn't mean it, that you've changed your mind, anything, just don't let him walk out of here!
I opened my mouth.
"It doesn't bother me if you're-"
I closed it again. I couldn't say it, I just couldn't.
"Max..."
"We have to get off soon," he said, standing and facing away from me.
I began to shake. I knew my eyes were full of tears, I could feel them brimming up and spilling over, rolling down my cheeks.
"Max..."
"I'll see you later," he mumbled in a broken voice as he left the carriage and slid the door firmly shut behind him.
I couldn't move. I knew I should follow him, and I desperately wanted to, but I couldn't move out of this one seat.
It wouldn't fit in my head. No matter how I tried to force it, everything that had happened, everything that hadn't happened... It just didn't fit. I'd had so many plans, and they'd all gone wrong - this wasn't how it was supposed to go!
I've never wanted to cry so much in my life, but the train was stopping, so I scrubbed my eyes a little, and hoped I looked normal enough that strangers wouldn't stop me on the street to ask if I was okay.
When I stepped on to the platform, he'd already gone; run away, no doubt, as far and as fast as he could, anything to get away from me.
Well, he could run, but I had to walk. I shouldered my backpack and started the longest journey home I've ever had to make.
-------
A/N: So far, Senses has been a very low-maintenance, low commitment idea for me, more a collection of one-shots than a multiparter. Well, this fic truly steps over the multiparter line, as I firmly believe you have to have read the first two instalments to completely understand this one, and - hopefully - you'll notice that this isn't the end, and/or that there is one sense as yet unwritten.
However, for anyone currently looking rather dubiously at my average update rate, I'd just like to say that the final instalment is already written, and just needs some reworking and betaing before it will be put up in the very near future.
But anyway, I hope this instalment didn't disappoint you! Let me know what you think of this one and also, if you fancy telling me, where you think it's going to go, I'd be very interested to find that out.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
But it didn't beta itself, and large amounts of gratitude go to diamond dew, who is the best beta I could possibly have. Also, big thanks to Ishshi, who, along with Dew, has never given up on this fic, in spite of the many false starts it has had, something that's meant a great deal to me.
I also need to thank everyone who's reviewed this fic so far, you've all said such wonderful, motivational things! Thank you so much, and I really hope you're not disappointed. A good way to let me know is to leave a review or email me... *flutters eyelashes winsomely and inclines subtly towards the review button*
Have you ever had that feeling that things can't get much better... and it turns out to be right?
Everything was just comfortable. School was going okay, I was beyblading enough that I didn't rusty, but I was still spending an awful lot of time with my friends - and especially Max.
I never quite figured out what we were at that time, but this laughing, blonde kid was still my friend, and whatever else might have built up around it, that hadn't changed. We still watched movies, we still played video games together, and we still went to the park to beyblade.
Which is where this all began. Kenny, after examining our blading critically for two hours, had pronounced our beyblades in need of a tune-up, and had just gone home to work out some ideas. Max and I were seeing how high we could spin our blades up the walls when he suddenly came out with, "By the way, you haven't forgotten have you?"
"Forgotten what?"
He gave me a mock stern eyebrow-raise. "If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you!"
"But if you don't tell me, then how am I supposed to remember?" I returned, and he laughed at our well-honed routine, just as he always did. Not that I ever got sick of him laughing or anything; let's face it, who could?
"The party tomorrow. We're still going, right?"
I'd forgotten all about it. "I suppose I could fit it in," I said nonchalantly, and he chuckled.
"Well hey, if you're that busy, I'll tell her not to save you any cake. After all, what's the point in keeping you a slice if you won't have time to eat it?"
"Don't joke about things like that!"
He laughed again as he collected his blade. "So, are you coming or not?"
The party he was talking about was for the birthday of some girl from his old town, and the fact is that I wouldn't have missed it for the world. It was the chance I'd been looking for to really get a glimpse of Max's old life - and besides, he said her mom and dad were really going all out with the budget for the buffet.
I nodded firmly. "Count me in." He beamed at me, and I felt a little warmer.
"So, what should I wear?" I asked, recalling Dragoon to my palm and tucking my launcher away.
"Oh, I don't know, clothes?"
"Very funny, Einstein, but what kind of clothes? Is it a dressed up party or what?"
He shook his head. "Normal clothes, Tyson. It doesn't really matter anyway, they're just my friends, you know?"
Why do people do that? Why do they just assume that their friends are so great that a complete stranger will love them instantly? More to the point, why do they assume their friends will love the complete stranger right back?
I sighed, thinking wistfully of the days when I didn't care about all that stuff. I was just me, people were just people, and they could think what they wanted about me before I gave a damn. I don't know when that all changed, but I really wish it hadn't.
"Hey," Max said softly, "Don't worry about it." I felt his hand slip into mine and I didn't even have to think about it before our fingers intertwined. That's one of the changes I definitely don't mind; I don't know why, but I guess I do feel sort of... I don't know. Reassured, I guess, when Max holds my hand like that.
I'm less reassured when he grabs my hat, yanks it off my head and holds it as high in the air as he can. Jerk. Just because he's, what, two millimetres taller than I am, that doesn't mean he has to abuse it!
After a couple of minutes of chasing after him, I eventually got close enough for an American football style tackle, and we crashed to the ground. I started again to tell him to give me my hat back, and he jammed it into my mouth.
"That's not funny!" I said, more occupied with spitting out hat than with his loud laughter.
"Yes it is!" he managed to say, creasing up again as I tried to wipe my tongue on my sleeve.
"Seriously, I don't think this thing's ever seen a washing machine, I could die from just inhaling it!"
He looked at me quizzically. "Tyson, when was the last time you inhaled a hat?"
"Don't change the subject!"
Before I could carry on, he leaned in and kissed me, another example of his constant power abuse.
"You taste of hat," he said in distaste, wrinkling his nose.
"At least when I die of hat poisoning, you'll be right there with me," I said, mollified. "But that still counts as changing the subject, and I'm still telling you to stop!"
He grinned at me. "Look, honestly, as long as you turn up with a present, nobody's going to care what you're wearing!"
Houston, we have a problem.
"Yeah, guess you're right," I said, smiling weakly.
Kenny showed up at my house later on, just as I was hunting for something that could be given to a girl for her birthday.
"Why on earth didn't you think of this before?" he said as disapprovingly as always.
"I completely forgot that it was tomorrow! Here, what do you think?"
He looked at the ornament I'd just unearthed and sighed. "Tyson, she'll know in about two seconds flat that you dug that out from a cupboard the night before."
"You think?" I examined the ornament, decided the Chief was right and tossed it back in the cupboard, slamming the doors hard before everything I'd uprooted fell down on me. "Thanks a lot Chief, now what am I going to do?"
When I realised that he wasn't saying anything, I turned to face him in surprise. The Chief always has something to say, even if it's just to tell me how disorganised I am.
"Yo, Kenny."
I expected him to snap out of whatever funk he was in, tell me it was my own fault I didn't remember a gift sooner - but he didn't. Instead, he continued staring really hard at his shoes, like they'd run away if he wasn't careful. I clambered down from the shelves I'd just been investigating. "Earth to Kenny. What's up?"
"Tyson, this is hard for me to talk about..."
Uh-oh. That was it, I knew for certain that something was up. Now, I know I'm not exactly the world's most sensitive guy, and I don't take hints very well, but that's just it: Kenny doesn't hint, and he doesn't find things hard to say. Sometimes this doesn't go down too well with people who'd rather he use a bit of tact, but I like the way he doesn't think too hard about what he says before it's out of his mouth.
I perched on the armchair across from him and leaned forward. "Yeah, what is it?"
He glanced up at me, then looked away very quickly, like he'd done something wrong. "Tyson," he began, and it was obvious that this was taking a lot of effort. By this time, I was leaning forward so far I should have fallen off.
"Earlier on today... At the park..."
I racked my brains, trying to figure out if I'd done anything wrong then. Nothing beyond the usual, and the Chief had seemed fine through the whole thing. Not swallowing his words, not looking away from me, and definitely not going red.
"Yeah?" I prompted, more curious than ever. Unusually enough for the Chief, he seemed to be searching for a tactful way to put it.
Apparently it didn't work, because he said in a rush, "I saw you and Max!"
I felt my breathing quicken.
How much? How much did you see? I wanted to scream, but that's the one question that just can't be phrased without becoming pointless.
He was bright red by that time, but forcing himself to carry on. "I wasn't spying on you, honest, I came back to pick up a disk I'd left behind, by accident, and I saw you two... Well, you know. You were there," he finished lamely. I have no idea if he was looking at me or not, seeing as I'd suddenly found my own shoes in need of attention.
At this moment, I entered into the most awkward silence of my life. Neither of us wanted to say a thing, and frankly, I think Kenny's got some guts getting that far in the first place.
Not that I was thinking this at that moment, obviously. In fact, I wasn't really thinking at all, and I think that became pretty clear when I started talking.
I said smoothly, "Oh, you saw us beyblading?" and was overwhelmed by my brilliance as a liar.
"No, Tyson, I saw you holding hands."
While one part of me died right there, another part, a thinking part, recognised that this was manageable. The Chief's not too social a guy, and with a bit of persuasion, you could probably convince him that drinking gasoline is acceptable Friday night behaviour as long as it's in a glass with a paper umbrella.
So I grinned - partly out of relief - and said, "Aww, Maxie and me were just kidding around, you know that! Don't you do that with your friends, Kenny?"
"No, and I don't k-kiss them either."
I froze.
He'd almost choked getting the words out, but not as severely as I did when I heard them. There were plenty of thoughts in my head, but I couldn't focus on any of them enough to make sense in my mind, and instead, it just kept going back to one, hammering fact.
He knows.
"I didn't want to say anything, but I figured I have to say something, so I just wanted to, um, say that-"
"Get out."
"What?" He sounded as appalled as I would if a friend of mine was that rude to me, but like I said, I really wasn't thinking at the time.
I jumped out of my chair. "You can't just come into my house and accuse me of something like this! Get out!"
"Tyson, I haven't accused you of anything!" he said, bewildered.
"You're accusing me of kissing another guy!"
"Well, weren't you?"
Too late I realised that denial would have definitely been a way to go about, oh, thirty-eight seconds before - but I tried it anyway. After all, my worst fears had come true, what did I have to lose?
"How do you know I was?" I said defiantly, folding my arms.
"Because I saw you!"
"And you just jumped to conclusions?"
He sighed with even more frustration than before. "Look, Tyson, I just came here to say that it doesn't bother me if you were kissing Max-"
"I wasn't!" What can I say, I'm not one to take defeat lying down.
"And," he ploughed on, "It really doesn't bother me if you're-"
"I'M NOT!"
He went quiet. I couldn't completely tell, but it felt like he was studying me, exactly the way Max does - but at the thought of Max, I felt suddenly sick, so I pushed it to one side.
"Okay, Tyson," he said finally. "I just wanted to say that no matter what, none of it matters to me, but I just wish you'd told me. After all, if there's something that could affect your beyblading-"
I cut him off with a snort. "That's a laugh, Kenny! You're not here because of the team!"
He went silent again, and if I hadn't have been so mad at him, I would have felt sorry for him.
"No," he said, barely audibly. "You're right, I'm not."
I was - to put it mildly - a little surprised. I've been told before that I don't make too much sense when I'm angry, and the idea that I might have been right about something took me completely off guard.
Kenny seemed to be struggling to speak, but I was damned if I was going to make it easier for him.
"It's... I'm... I mean..." He paused, evidently trying to gather his thoughts. "I just... Well..." He gave up, took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out slowly. Suddenly, the Chief seemed very young.
"Tyson, it's... It's hard, do you know that?"
I didn't, because I had no idea what he was talking about.
"It's really hard trying to be your friend."
Half of me jumped to my own defence, but the other half softened slightly. Out of plain confusion, I didn't do or say a thing, just kept trying to look insulted and aloof.
"You have all these fans who send you letters, who stop you in the street and ask you for autographs, or who turn up at your house just because they want to speak to you! It's hard to be the person standing next to you when they do that."
What do they ask you in interviews, Tyson?
I sighed inwardly. Why does everyone around me act like it's my fault I get so much attention? It's not like any of them want it anyway, and seeing as someone has to deal with the fans, it might as well be me!
"But that's okay, most of the time. It's hard to get your attention, but I know you were my friend first, so it's okay."
Get my attention? I had no idea what he was talking about, getting my attention isn't exactly difficult! But he was still going somewhere with it, and I still didn't want to talk to him, so I bit back any reply I could have made.
"But for a while now, it's like you didn't want to be my friend anymore."
He was even redder now. As difficult as it was for him to talk about my personal life, it was much more difficult for him to talk about his own, that much was clear. The part of me that had jumped to my own defence pulled back slightly.
"To find out that you've had such a major thing happen in your life and you haven't said a word about it... I feel like one of your groupies. I just wish you'd said something."
And at that moment, when I actually wanted to say something, I couldn't think of anything to say.
"Don't worry," he said, turning towards the door, "I'm going now. That's all I wanted you to know."
He'd only walked into my room ten minutes ago, if that, but in ten minutes or less, he'd ruined my life.
I heard him say goodbye to my grandfather, and I heard the front door open and shut. Then I heard Grandpa switch on the television and start on dinner, singing along to that stupid game show jingle, just the way he always did.
For the first time, I wondered how I was going to tell Max.
I swear, it was like my stomach suddenly rebelled. I felt my throat tighten and ran to the bathroom, only just making it in time. I didn't even get a chance to lock the door.
"Little dude? Is everything hip to the hop?"
I hadn't thrown up in about eight years, and I was totally embarrassed, especially when I started welling up. Throwing up and crying, could I be any more like a four-year-old?
But at the time, I couldn't do anything but stand over the toilet and feel disgusting, so that's what I did.
And, as it turns out, it was okay. I suppose it's easy enough to forget that when I was a kid, it was my grandpa who took care of me, and that hasn't changed. He got me a glass of water, sent me to bed and brought up some toast later on. I know I wasn't really sick, but I sure felt it, and really appreciated not having to do anything that evening. The only real problem with it was that with nothing to distract me, I remembered what had happened every two seconds, so every two seconds, I realised what I had to do, and felt like I wanted to die. Not a fun night.
At least I got some plans made though. Once the thought of Max didn't make me gag anymore, I thought things through rationally. I figured I had to tell him sooner or later - it's kind of an important thing - so it might as well be the next time I saw him. I decided to tell him after the party, so that at least he'd have a good time while he was there. I worked out the exact words I would use, and I got my facial expressions just perfect. It was a carefully planned operation, and I was determined to get it right.
"You know, Lucy's name isn't really Lucy, it's Mitsu. She just wanted to have an American-sounding name, and she found out they both have the same-"
"Kenny saw us kissing."
Seriously, wait till after the party, was I insane?! It had been hard enough not to tell him straight away on the platform at the station!
He looked up at me sharply and seemed almost suspicious, like he expected it to be the joke I wish it was. But it wasn't, and I met his gaze as seriously as I could.
He went pale.
I remembered confidently all the phrases I'd planned the night before, all of them carefully calculated to calm him down once the horror of it all sank in.
"Well," he said, sounding resigned, "We knew this would happen sooner or later."
I choked. "We did?" I managed to say.
He looked at me in surprise. "Tyson, did you honestly think no-one would notice what was going on?"
"Well, why should they?" I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't tell Kenny, did you?"
Max laughed. "Tyson, that's lame and you know it! Why would I?"
"You don't seem to mind too much that he's found out!" It was true. I'd spent the evening in bed, but Max had recovered in about forty-seven seconds flat. "Why else wouldn't you mind unless you'd told him?"
"Maybe because I knew this would happen?" he said with a slight smile that infuriated me. I couldn't believe it. All of my planning to soothe him, and I was the one getting mad!
"I can't believe you're just okay with this!" I said furiously. "Think about it, if Kenny tells Rei-"
"If Kenny tells Rei, which he won't, then Rei will know," Max said gently. "Tyson, these are our friends, they were going to find out what was going on at some point."
"But there's nothing going on!" Max looked taken aback at this, but also a little amused. "We're just friends, that's all, just more than most people are!"
One of his hands twitched.
I recognised that twitch, from the awkward days after he first tried to kiss me. He'd been going to hold my hand.
And thank God he didn't. If he'd have touched me, or even come near me at that moment, I probably would have hit him as hard as I could, and we could have been in broken nose territory.
I was torn apart when I saw that twitch though. One side of me was desperate for him to ignore what I wanted, to take my hand anyway, but another side wanted to throw him out of the train for daring to even consider such a thing. The most objective part of me thought how sad it was that after all this time, we'd suddenly gone back to that stage.
The train, which had been slowing down all this time, finally drew to a halt. Max stood up.
"Tyson... We'll talk later, okay?"
"There's nothing to talk about."
Possibly the stupidest thing I've ever said, but he just nodded, picked up his bag and walked out of the carriage.
I stepped off the train into a crowd of people, and noisy people at that. Looking over at Max, I could see that he was being embraced and cooed over by a whole bunch of girls - who, I couldn't help noticing, didn't exactly suffer in the looks department. Bitterly, I dubbed them his harem before realising that not all of it was female and not all of it was concentrating on him.
"Oh my gosh! You're really Tyson, aren't you?"
"Of course it's really him, don't be stupid!"
"Hey, have you got your beyblade with you?"
"Yeah, do you have Dragoon?"
"You should battle me, Tyson, I'm pretty good!"
"But not as good as me, fight me first!"
This happens all the time, and then some. I plastered on a grin and gave them the automatic responses I give everyone, at the same time trying to sneak a sideways glance at Max.
He was in his element. All these girls were hugging him, jumping up and down, ruffling his hair - basically, they were being girlish, and it was pretty obvious they worshipped him. A girl with her hair dyed blonde actually kissed his cheek at one point, after he handed her a present.
Something clicked.
Lucy. That's whose party it was. That girl over there, with her long blonde hair and stupid short skirt was Lucy, the girl who loved all things American - which apparently included Max.
This was the girl who'd taught Max how to kiss.
As I wondered if that meant indirectly, she'd taught me how to kiss as well, the train pulled away behind me.
"Hey, Tyson, is Rei really that cute?"
I wished I was on it.
I don't know how I carried on talking, but soon we were in this girl Lucy's house drinking warm fizzy drinks from plastic cups, and I was still in a conversation with the adoring crowd around me.
Actually, it sort of helped. I mean, the more they talked to me, the less typical their questions got, and I had to concentrate harder on answering. Every now and then, I'd forget what was going on - which was great and all, but it meant that when it did come back, it hit me like a truck.
Things got better after people got the answers they wanted, then remembered they were at a party and went off to dance or something. After a while there were few enough people that I could get up and walk away without too much trouble.
I sat on the front doorstep, breathing as deeply as my grandpa had taught me to, trying to get rid of this feeling sucking at my chest.
"You didn't look too happy in there."
It was some girl, one of Max's harem. I would have normally found some excuse to get away, but where was I going to go? Besides, she obviously wasn't here by accident; I figured even if I did leave, she'd find me again, and this was a less stifling place than most.
"Mind if I sit down?"
Her voice was soft, easy on the ears, so I said, "Go ahead," and indicated the space next to me.
She sat delicately, moving carefully and tucking her clothes in various ways to keep everything hidden that should be. I've never really thought about girls' party outfits before, but they're pretty impractical. It was weird to think that she had to go through that tucking ritual every time she sat down.
"So," she said kindly, "What's wrong?"
"Why do you think something's wrong?" It was half-hearted, but I was at a birthday party; common courtesy insists you have to at least make the attempt.
"Oh, please," she said dismissively. "Boys are so dense, they couldn't tell a thing, but any girl just had to look at you to know you were having a terrible time in there!"
For a brief, alarming moment, I wondered if it was true.
"I wasn't having a terrible time!"
"Well, maybe not terrible," she conceded, "But not like you wanted to be there."
I nodded, pretty sure that wasn't offensive enough to cause any problems for Max. Then I remembered - why did I care? As of Kenny's visit, I had problems of the huge variety and he didn't give a damn, so why should I?
But I diverted this train of thought, determined to keep Max out of my mind .
"So you and Max are pretty good friends?"
Apparently this wasn't an option.
"Sure," I said guardedly, trying to control the panic rising inside me. What has she heard? Has Max said anything? Has he-
"Has he ever mentioned me?"
A lesson in being self-absorbed: you're not the only one. This particular night, I was extremely grateful for that fact.
"The only friend he's ever mentioned is Lucy. She's the one with blonde hair, right?"
The girl nodded, sort of sadly. "Yes, that's her." She sighed, and tilted her head upwards. I followed her line of sight and found myself looking into the stars. Great, I thought sourly. That's all I need, to feel totally insignificant.
"It figures she'd be the one he talks about, they were pretty close when he lived here. You know," she said, leaning in slightly and speaking in tones of confidentiality, "A lot of people think they'll get back together tonight, have a long distance relationship. She's really missed him."
And the blows just kept on coming. All I could do was sit and nod dumbly, trying to hide the storm of thoughts in my head.
Has she asked him yet?
Will he say yes?
Are they in her bedroom right now?
What are they doing?
"Of course," she continued obliviously, "That's unless he has a girlfriend where he lives now. Does he have a girlfriend?"
I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've ever wished I could answer differently. I shook my head. "No, Max doesn't have a girlfriend."
"Do you?"
"No," I said automatically, and was rewarded with softness, as her lips pressed against mine.
I won't say it wasn't nice. I'd had a pretty rough twenty-four hours, and some uncomplicated sympathy was exactly what I needed. Of course, ordinarily I'd get that from Max...
I kissed her more firmly.
I've come a long way from that first clumsy encounter on Max's doorstep, and could kiss without thinking about it, which is exactly what I did. Well, exactly what I tried to do. She didn't tilt her head the right way, and she didn't open her mouth widely enough, and her tongue was just in the wrong place, so I actually had to pay attention and focus on compensating for that.
I don't mean that it was a bad kiss; after all, once we'd ironed out those little things, we settled into it a pretty nice rhythm. Only this rhythm was too slow, and her part in it was too soft. I tried to push her to move more quickly, to fight back a little, but it wasn't long before I gave up.
The fact is, she wasn't Max.
It had never really occurred to me before that people might kiss differently. I mean, it's obvious now, but at the time I was almost bored, waiting for the spark to kick in, where it stops being mechanical and starts being fun.
It never did. It was soft, it was comforting, it was sweet, but it wasn't exciting. It wasn't even interesting, once the novelty factor of kissing a girl wore off - and it was never fun.
Her hand, resting on my chest, slid downwards to my waistband. Startled, I broke off the kiss, snagged her wrist and moved her hand away.
It hit me that if that had been Max, I would have let him. It didn't matter what it was he had planned, I would have let him do it. I probably wouldn't have even stopped kissing him.
I realised that the moment I'd moved her hand away from my stomach, I'd let go of it. There have been so many times I've grabbed hold of Max's wrist - if only to stop him from grabbing my hat - and it's been a long time since I just let go of it without thinking. Usually we don't even let go, just end up holding hands.
I didn't know what it was about Max that made him so different, but when we did stuff like this, it felt more than nice. This girl was nothing special.
Which meant that Max was.
A smile crept over my face. Max was special. This girl had been right: boys are dense. I hadn't even noticed that he was so important to me, and after my last words to him on the train, I had to let him know that, as soon as possible.
"Thank you," I whispered to the girl, who looked more confused than ever. Who knows, I might have been the first guy ever to turn her down, she really was very pretty.
"You're welcome?"
I grinned at her as I stood to go back inside.
I spotted him easily, surrounded by various members of his harem and with Lucy practically hanging off his arm. For a moment, I just stood and watched. He was really something to look at, even amongst all those girls. He stood out, and not just because he was blonde.
He didn't need to hold my hand to reassure me this time; just by seeing him, I was certain that on the train that night, we'd get everything sorted out. We'd figure out something to tell Kenny to put him off the scent, and we'd be more careful in the future. It'd be okay. I wouldn't have to lose him.
"Hey, Max!" I called out.
"Oh, there he is!" Max said loudly when he saw me. "Sorry guys, we have to go, or we'll miss the last train."
There was a chorus of disappointment, and lots of people snatched at my attention for the last few minutes, but I just wanted to get away from there, to be alone with Max so I could tell him what I'd figured out.
"Max," I hissed urgently as soon as we stepped out of the house. "I need to-"
"Not now, Tyson," he said shortly.
"But I just need to tell you-"
He broke into a run. Apparently, those last few minutes had cost us a lot, so I ran after him.
Max loves to run, and actually does it for fun. Me? I was staggering and on the verge of collapse a quarter-mile down the road. He kept on going though, so I had to force myself to keep up.
It was pretty humiliating when we got to the train station and I realised he hadn't even broken a sweat. I was out of breath for quite a few minutes afterwards.
Quite a few? Following a bit of a theme of that night, something clicked.
"Hey, Max," I said, perplexed, "Is the train late or something?"
"No. We're early."
I stared. "You mean I ran for nothing?"
"Yes."
Something was wrong. That should have been followed by a laugh. Examining the timetable display, I made another discovery. "Max, this isn't the last train."
"I know."
"But-"
"I lied."
Something was very, very wrong. I'd never known Max to lie in his life, and to say it in that tone, with that lack of expression... It was actually chilling. I was desperate to know what was wrong.
"Max-"
"Not now, Tyson."
I prickled. "Hey-"
"Not here, and not now."
I resented the fact that he thought he could order me around, but there were people on the platform with us, so I decided not to push it. Besides, hearing Max speak like that was intimidating, to say the least. So I settled back, and tried to work out on my own what could have gone wrong. A few minutes later, it struck me.
A lot of people think they'll get back together tonight.
Of course. Lucy. It was obvious once I put it together. I wondered what she'd said to make Max so mad, but I'm not a girl, I couldn't figure it out. I always thought they were more tactful than us, but I guess even girls can hurt people, and she'd probably been pretty disappointed after he turned her down, even though she'd hidden it pretty well when she was downstairs.
Or maybe she didn't look disappointed because she hadn't been disappointed...
My breathing sped up, but it was obvious Max didn't want to talk there and then, so I stayed in silence and breathed a sigh of relief when the train finally pulled up. The moment we stepped on it, I tried again, saying, "Max, listen-"
"Not here."
I began to get annoyed. "Then where do you plan on-"
He grabbed my shoulder and shoved me hard into the nearest carriage.
I've never really wondered if I could take Max in a fight - but I've never seriously considered that he might be able to take me.
"Whoa!" I cried out, more than a little annoyed. "Max, what's this all about? Something's been eating you since the party, and I want to know what it is!"
On the plus side, I got to finish a sentence for the first time in an hour. On the minus side, also for the first time in an hour, Max made eye contact with me.
Did I say his voice was intimidating? Multiply that by ten and stick it in his eyes.
"Listen," I said, trying for gentle and sympathetic, even though really I was burning mad, "I don't know what Lucy said to you, but-"
"Lucy?" he said, his brow furrowing in disbelief.
"Yeah, Lucy!" I could feel my irritation taking over. "Pretty, blonde, used to go out with you, remember her?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Tyson!" he snapped. "This isn't about Lucy!"
"So she didn't ask you to get back with her tonight?" I challenged.
He looked at me like I was insane. "Yes, she did, not that it's any of your business!"
I was incensed. "Not my business?" I said heatedly. "How is it not my business if you're-"
"Tyson, it stopped being your business when you kissed Kagami!"
So he was going to use that as an excuse. "Max, I didn't even know her name!" I yelled, fed up with this whole thing. "It's not the same as getting a whole girlfriend! Besides, she kissed me, I didn't go looking for it or-"
He punched me.
It took about four seconds of reeling to actually understand what had just happened, to realise that Max had hit me. Hard. And it hurt.
It was only another two seconds before I hit him back.
And that's how my first fight began. This wasn't an "I've got your hat, ha ha" kind of playing, but a real fight, where we both just wanted to hurt each other as much as possible.
It stopped being Max I was hitting, and soon I was just caught up in the need to get rid of all the tension that had begun the moment Kenny walked in the day before. I lashed out, not caring what I was doing as long as there was a chance I was inflicting some pain while doing it.
It probably didn't last as long as it felt, but it ended what felt like ten minutes later, with Max pinning me on the train carriage floor, his knee in my back.
"It doesn't matter," he rasped, breathing hard, "If she kissed you! The point is that you kissed back."
"But I-"
"Shut up, Tyson!" he shouted through gritted teeth, clenching his hands tightly into fists - unfortunately for me, one of them in my hair at the time, and I winced. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to kiss her, the point is that you did! And it really doesn't matter if you didn't even know her name! The point is that you know mine, and you either forgot it or didn't care about it when she came on to you!"
He relaxed his hold slightly, but I didn't even shift until he'd actually moved away.
We sat in that train carriage, trying to glare at each other without actually making eye contact.
"Can I talk now?" I asked quietly.
"Go ahead; it won't make any difference."
"I don't know how you can be so self-righteous when you and your ex-girlfriend-"
He rolled his eyes. "Ah, Tyson, would you let it go? Nothing happened!"
"You don't need to lie to me, Max!" I said, raising my voice to match his. "You already said she asked you back!"
"Yes, she did!"
"Then why don't you just admit-"
"I told her I was in love with someone else!" he screamed.
And there it was. The first time someone's ever told me they're in love with me.
Honestly, I would have rather he hit me again.
He looked away from me, flushed, and I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or just plain angry. Maybe it was a mixture; I know I couldn't pick one emotion and stick with it that night.
In the silence that followed, I felt some of my anger ebbing away, but I didn't want to give up that easily.
"So why didn't you just-"
"My God, Tyson!" he yelled in exasperation. "You're such a child!"
I bristled. "Say that again!"
"You. Are. A. Child," he said bitingly, each word loaded with rage. "You can't even admit, just for once, that you might be wrong about something!"
"You think I'm the one who's wrong here?" I couldn't believe how arrogant he was!
He looked incredulously at me. "Go on then. I'm waiting. Tell me what I've done wrong."
I said the first thing that came to my mind. "You just brushed off what I told you about Kenny this afternoon!"
I expected him to blow up at me again, but instead, he slumped back into his seat. "I thought that might be what this is all really about," he said lifelessly.
"You just acted like it didn't even matter," I said cautiously, wondering just where all his anger had gone.
"Maybe because to me, it doesn't matter," he said, drawing his knees up to his chin.
"But why not?" I asked involuntarily, bowled over by the very idea that this might not be as big a deal to him as it was to me.
"I know what I think, and I know what I feel, and if people I like and trust find out about it, it's something I have to be ready to deal with." He rested his chin on his arms, which, for the first time, I noticed were scratched. Had I really done that?
"One person." His voice shook, and I realised that his anger hadn't gone, just been swallowed. "One person finds out about us... and you just give up. That's it, gone." He gazed out of the window. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I saw you with Kagami?"
His words sounded distant, like they were coming from somewhere far away - or maybe somewhere deep down. I've heard Max talk like this before, when he told me about his parents' separation, and when he started dwelling on why his mom was keeping her distance from him. Did this mean that to Max, me kissing that girl was in the same league as his parents splitting up?
Suddenly, everything twisted around and blurred together, and while some things faded away, others came sharply into view.
I'd been using this Lucy thing as an excuse to rail at him, but the fact is, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Max would never agree to something like that without telling me first.
I also knew that Max would never agree to something like that. He'd made it perfectly clear that he only saw Lucy as a friend. It was also very clear that Max wasn't attracted to girls anyway. In fact, he'd now even said he was in love with me, to a girl who wanted to be with him every bit as much as I did.
To walk away from that to see me kissing somebody else...
I felt terrible. "I do now," I whispered, praying he'd believe me.
He just nodded, staring out of the window as he had been since we stopped yelling and started talking.
"You know, I couldn't wait to get here."
"The train?" I asked stupidly, before realising he had to be talking about Lucy's house or our home town, but he actually nodded.
"Yeah, the train. I spent all evening waiting to be able to get out of there so I could talk to you about what Kenny said."
He'd been surrounded by friends, good friends he hadn't seen for ages - and he'd been thinking of me the whole time.
I felt a little worse.
"I don't know how you feel about this, but-" He stopped and frowned. "Actually, you know what? That's part of the problem. I don't know how you feel about this. I know how I feel about it - and now you do too - but I have no idea what you're thinking right now."
"I'm thinking that I'm sorry," I blurted out, and it earned me the first eye contact of the conversation, a surprised glance from Max. Surprised, but also sad. Convinced that no response was better than some of the responses I'd had that night, I carried on talking. "I didn't know... lots of things. I didn't know you wanted to get out of there as much as I did, or I would have asked if we could go sooner."
"I didn't know if you were still mad or not." He sounded tired, his voice as heavy as the expression in his eyes. "I wanted to give you time to cool off before we talked." He smiled ruefully. "Guess that didn't quite work, huh?"
I smiled back, relieved. This was it. I knew it would only be a moment before he came and sat next to me, or reached over and took my hand. By the time we got back home, everything would be normal again.
He didn't even twitch.
The train began to lose speed. We both looked apprehensively at each other; time was running out.
"Tyson," Max said hesitantly, "When Kenny spoke to you yesterday, did you deny everything?"
I sighed. "Yeah. I told him to get out as well, I really need to apologise for that."
"I want to be able to tell Kenny that he's right." He said it so calmly, so resolutely that I knew this wasn't something he'd just thought of.
I swallowed. "What do you mean?" I wished he'd stop saying such horrible things, just reassure me and tell me exactly what I wanted to hear - the way he'd always done before.
"I don't mean I want to tell the world or anything, but he found out, so I want to be able to tell him that he's right. I don't want to have to go through this every time someone might have found out." He seemed to flinch as he said, "I don't want to have to go through this ever again."
There was a pause. "So... what do you want me to do?" I asked uneasily, dreading his verdict.
"I've been so afraid of scaring you off by trying to stick a label on us that I haven't even mentioned it," he said in a subdued voice, "But I can't do that anymore. Either we're an us, or you're a you and I'm a me. I can't... I can't deal with the idea that you might forget my name again, like you did tonight."
"I didn't forget," I interjected, feeling myself start to sweat. "I was trying to, but I didn't. I couldn't."
He softened. "That's good to know... But it still doesn't solve anything. I need a yes or a no, at least for the next time I see Kenny."
Yes. Say yes. Say it now.
A million and one thoughts whirled around my head until I felt like a tumbledryer. It'd be so nice to not have to drop Max's hand every time Kenny came round, or watch what I say in front of him. Kenny had already said he was feeling left out, so that meant he'd feel better if we were just ourselves in front of him, right?
I was so close to saying yes, it was on the tip of my tongue...
"It doesn't bother me if you were kissing Max."
"It doesn't bother me if you're-"
I went cold. All the red thoughts in my head became blue, and I couldn't say it anymore.
"Can't..." I started, then swallowed and tried again. "Can't we just go back to the way we were?"
And just like that, I ripped his world apart. You didn't have to be a girl to see that.
He shook his head slowly. "No, we can't" he said miserably. "We can go back to being just normal friends - but that's the only step back I'm willing to take. And I'm not even sure we can do that," he added, though it seemed more to himself than to me.
Say yes! Quickly, tell him you didn't mean it, that you've changed your mind, anything, just don't let him walk out of here!
I opened my mouth.
"It doesn't bother me if you're-"
I closed it again. I couldn't say it, I just couldn't.
"Max..."
"We have to get off soon," he said, standing and facing away from me.
I began to shake. I knew my eyes were full of tears, I could feel them brimming up and spilling over, rolling down my cheeks.
"Max..."
"I'll see you later," he mumbled in a broken voice as he left the carriage and slid the door firmly shut behind him.
I couldn't move. I knew I should follow him, and I desperately wanted to, but I couldn't move out of this one seat.
It wouldn't fit in my head. No matter how I tried to force it, everything that had happened, everything that hadn't happened... It just didn't fit. I'd had so many plans, and they'd all gone wrong - this wasn't how it was supposed to go!
I've never wanted to cry so much in my life, but the train was stopping, so I scrubbed my eyes a little, and hoped I looked normal enough that strangers wouldn't stop me on the street to ask if I was okay.
When I stepped on to the platform, he'd already gone; run away, no doubt, as far and as fast as he could, anything to get away from me.
Well, he could run, but I had to walk. I shouldered my backpack and started the longest journey home I've ever had to make.
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A/N: So far, Senses has been a very low-maintenance, low commitment idea for me, more a collection of one-shots than a multiparter. Well, this fic truly steps over the multiparter line, as I firmly believe you have to have read the first two instalments to completely understand this one, and - hopefully - you'll notice that this isn't the end, and/or that there is one sense as yet unwritten.
However, for anyone currently looking rather dubiously at my average update rate, I'd just like to say that the final instalment is already written, and just needs some reworking and betaing before it will be put up in the very near future.
But anyway, I hope this instalment didn't disappoint you! Let me know what you think of this one and also, if you fancy telling me, where you think it's going to go, I'd be very interested to find that out.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!