Aishuu Offers:
Dross
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei, manga-ka!
~*~*~*~
Part Six
~*~*~*~
He didn't really get a chance to talk to Kikumaru alone until late that night. He half thought it was through intentional, since all of the sudden they were in the whirl of alumni activities, and Oishi was a less-than-enthusiastic participant as their small group intimacy was lost among the larger class gathering.
There were more activities, and Oishi felt a bit dragged out by the forced togetherness with people he had hardly spoken to during his high school years. He had never been particularly outgoing, but Kikumaru had, and in trying to stay with him, Oishi found himself being tired out.
That night, the class had chosen to throw a "back to the 80's" party, with music and clothes from that period, since they all had been born during that decade. None of them were really familiar with 80's music and the dancing wasn't particularly apt for that time period, but the rhythm throbbed in the back of Oishi's skull as the strobe lights flickered at a blinding pace. A few of their classmates had elected to wear the truly memorable fashions of the era, but Oishi was relieved that it wasn't required. He thought he would have looked horrible in most of what the men who had decided to dress up were.
Fuji and Tezuka had chosen not to attend this gathering, and Kawamura had returned home to his wife, promising to bring her back for the last day of activities since they had a babysitter and she was feeling better. Inui had arrived with them, but quickly been absorbed by the organizing committee for some task or other, so it was only him and Kikumaru.
Oishi followed him all night, watching when Kikumaru was persuaded to join a woman on the dance floor, joining him as a quiet shadow whenever Kikumaru pulled away to the sides for a conversation with someone, and waiting for Kikumaru to finally decide to end the evening so they could return to their room. A few of the bolder women tried to persuade Oishi onto the floor, but Oishi politely deferred, explaining that he didn't dance. They pouted at him, but unlike when he was in high school, he had learned to let others deal with their disappointment.
Kikumaru flirted freely with the women who found him as fascinating as they had in high school, and a few of the husbands who had been acquired through out the intervening years gave him dirty looks before the red head smiled and bounced away, forgetting about whomever he had been paying attention within seconds. He flitted around like a butterfly, not concentrating at all and Oishi wondered where he got the energy from.
What really amazed Oishi, though, was Kikumaru's easy manner and the way he was able to pin names to whoever he was talking to, even if they had neglected to wear the name tags that they had been issued the night before.
"Kiriko-chan, you've gotten even prettier! If you hadn't gotten married, I'd be trying to persuade you to abandon the party and go out and have a private drink," Kikumaru said to a woman who had put on a few pounds from having children, but there was utter sincerity in his voice. Oishi hadn't even recognized the former slender cheerleader in the plump housewife, but there had been no hesitation in Kikumaru's greeting, and plenty of genuine warmth.
She blushed, and her husband smiled and wrapped a possessive hand around her waist. "You're too sweet, Eiji-san. You always were, though. I'm afraid having the twins made me lose my girlish figure..."
"That's why you're prettier. You glow with happiness," Kikumaru replied. Oishi stood at his side, watching as the woman demurred, but her husband produced a string of photos the length of his arm and began to display the images with paternal pride.
"This is right before Yuri took her first step... of course, Yume wasn't that far behind..."
Kikumaru was still, listening with intense interest as the pair talked of the joys of child rearing, and every now and then he asked a question, setting off fresh verbal tirades. He ignored the excitement of the dance around him in favor of a quiet conversation with a couple whose lives revolved around their children.
Oishi frankly found it painfully dull, but Kikumaru was enthralled. He didn't understand what was so interesting about it, but Kikumaru finally waved a hand in farewell as the couple saw someone else they simply had to speak to with a satisfied smile on his face.
"They're such a beautiful couple," he said, and a slightly wistful look crossed his face.
"Hmm," was all Oishi could find to say. He would have rather spent the time trying to pry information out of Kikumaru or hanging out with Fuji or Tezuka, but both of them had wisely made themselves scared.
Kikumaru looked away for a second. "It's nice to see a happy family," he said. "Sometimes it seems like they don't exist."
Something stuck a chord in Oishi. "Don't you work with children?"
"Yes," Kikumaru said. "Social services." Then the red head noticed another long-lost acquaintance and was off again, and Oishi followed in his wake.
The slight pause was enough to give Oishi plenty to think on. He had never really considered what his friend did for a living, merely letting himself be satisfied with the fact that Kikumaru had been able to make a successful career... but what kind of career was it, really?
Kikumaru had always been painfully extroverted, deriving tremendous amounts of energy from being around others, but apparently some of the changes had made him become more extroverted. The whirling dervish that was Oishi's friend faltered now and then, something that never would have happened in high school.
Another subtle change, but Oishi could have sworn he saw Eiji brace himself once or twice, taking a deep breath before plunging back into the midst of the large party. His laughter, while not forced, wasn't as ready as it had once been.
He seemed to be tiring more easily, and once or twice he flinched away from some of the louder, more vulgar members of the class before finally coming up with the playful comebacks that so many expected of him. No one really seemed to notice the difference in him, with many saying in satisfaction that Kikumaru was "the same old Eiji!"
He wasn't! Oishi wanted to exclaim.
Eventually, even the loudest party had to wind down. The gathering began to thin a little after one, and Kikumaru seemed to notice the retreating ranks right around the time Oishi was about to declare defeat. Oishi was having a hard time keeping his thoughts straight, and despite only taking two drinks, his head felt fuzzy from fatigue and weariness.
Kikumaru returned from the performing a truly impressive dance displace with a former classmate that showed that he was still quite capable of the acrobatic moves that made him so famous on the tennis court. Oishi held out a glass of punch he had retrieved while his former partner had been on the floor, which Kikumaru accepted with a nod of thanks. Gulping it down, the redhead wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand before turning to look at the door. Oishi nodded, in relief, and they fled.
The Ah-Un synchronization that they had worked so hard on remained in shadowed forms.
The elevator ride upstairs was a quiet one, with Oishi slowly regaining his clarity of thought while Kikumaru leaned drowsily against a wall. He seemed half-asleep and entirely vulnerable, and Oishi felt guilty about the impeding confrontation he was about to inspire.
But he needed to know.
Kikumaru had once been the person he trusted most, and he owed it to him.
When they reached their room, Oishi opened the door and waited for Kikumaru to precede him.
Oishi wondered how to broach the subject, but Kikumaru spoke first.
"It was a good party," Kikumaru said with quiet satisfaction, a dreamy smile playing on his lips. "It was nice to see everyone so happy."
"I wonder," Oishi said quietly.
"Wonder what?" Kikumaru asked curiously, tilting his head in the fashion that meant he, too, was becoming more alert.
Sometimes, Oishi knew, the best thing to do was to confront people head-on. "Eiji... are you happy?"
Kikumaru's eyelashes fluttered a few times as he processed the question. "I'm very happy to see you!" he said, waving it off.
"Eiji."
Oishi spoke in a tone he had learned while Tezuka was away in junior high, the voice which didn't accept jokes or evasion, but demanded the truth. He used it rarely, but the command inherent in it was undeniable.
It was strange, to see Kikumaru go so pale. Even though he was a natural red head, Kikumaru didn't have the fair coloring that was often associated with the hair color. His purple eyes looked feverish in his bloodless face as he sat heavily on the bed, before a slight smile pulled at his lips. "You know, I've been waiting for you to ask that. I knew you'd notice."
Oishi came over and slid beside him, turning to face Kikumaru so their knees were touching and he could grab Kikumaru's hands. They were cold, and Oishi rubbed them in an attempt to warm them up. "Eiji... what happened?" he asked.
"I screwed up." Kikumaru took a deep breath, and his smile faltered a little, even though it remained. "I... I kind of fell into my job. I had no clue what I wanted to do, so I took some courses here and there, and while I was in my third year, a professor suggested I try a few internships.
"One of them was at a local youth center, and I really liked it. I like working with kids, and they liked me. So I started of thinking of working with kids, maybe doing something to help them. Somehow it ended up as social work."
Oishi had known that Kikumaru had probably not chosen what he did intentionally, so the way he had wound up where he was wasn't surprising. "It sounds like a good choice," he said.
"I thought so," Kikumaru said. "But... it's not easy. I work in the foster care system. I'm a caseworker... and we have a really high burn out rate."
Oishi wasn't quite sure what caseworkers did. He had images of them taking kids away from abusive homes to places where they were safe, but that was about all. "Eiji... if you don't like your job, change it."
Kikumaru sighed, and pulled his hands away. "It's not that simple." His head turned toward the wall, and Oishi couldn't read the eyes which had always been so expressive. "Someone has to do it, Oishi. And... I'm needed there."
Oishi waited, knowing that Kikumaru was going to elaborate. Seeing the one he had always thought of as carefree look so intense was strange. Oishi had never thought that Kikumaru would take anything seriously...
But wasn't he serious about tennis? Wasn't he serious about his friends? Kikumaru had always had the ability to care, and apparently his job brought that slumbering ability to the surface.
"There's not enough men doing the work, and sometimes it's dangerous to send a woman into some of the homes alone. So I'll go with one of my coworkers to keep them safe, even though it's not required. We do a lot of visitations to places that I wouldn't let a dog live at, let alone a person. And... sometimes the boys won't talk to a woman, so I work better with them." A slight smile came to his face, and he turned back to Oishi. "But... I screwed up. I let myself care too much for one of them."
"Eiji?" Oishi asked, feeling frightened. Something about the way Kikumaru was speaking was foreign, and to Oishi, who had once known all of his partner's various moods, it was unsettling to see a Kikumaru who spoke with a world-weary tiredness in his eyes, and whose smile didn't reach his eyes.
"His name was Souji, and he was fourteen. I met him when he was eleven... he was in and out of the system constantly. But I liked him, because he'd listen to me, because I listened to him."
"Was? Eiji... what happened?" Oishi asked, grabbing Kikumaru's hands again.
"He wasn't right in the head, but he needed me. I was the only adult who cared for him, and he clung to me because of that. But..." Kikumaru paused, and haunted purple eyes turned to Oishi. "He died. He got hold of a razor someone had left in the bathroom at his foster home, and he slit his wrists and ankles." Kikumaru's voice was flat, like someone reciting a fact that really wasn't affecting him.
Oishi winced. "It wasn't your fault," he said, unable to think of anything else to say.
Kikumaru's fingers were limp. "That's what everyone tells themselves. I went to the funeral, and there were less than twenty people there. Souji didn't have any classmates who really knew him, and he never was able to stay in a home longer than six months. But... if it wasn't my fault, then whose was it?"
Oishi didn't know what to say to offer comfort. He hadn't anticipated anything like this, and as he looked at the one who was once so full of laughter and confidence he realized that he had underestimated Kikumaru. He hadn't given him enough credit.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, and then he wrapped his arms around Kikumaru, pulling him into a tight embrace. Kikumaru was stiff for a moment before his arms crept around Oishi's shoulders, and his rested wearily against Oishi's neck. "Some things we just can't place blame for."
"I know that, intellectually. But you can't tell your heart that, can you?" Kikumaru said, and his muffled voice seemed to vibrate against Oishi's chest.
Oishi tried to stifle the regret he had at not being there when Kikumaru had needed a friend. "No. You can't."
END PART SIX
Dross
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei, manga-ka!
~*~*~*~
Part Six
~*~*~*~
He didn't really get a chance to talk to Kikumaru alone until late that night. He half thought it was through intentional, since all of the sudden they were in the whirl of alumni activities, and Oishi was a less-than-enthusiastic participant as their small group intimacy was lost among the larger class gathering.
There were more activities, and Oishi felt a bit dragged out by the forced togetherness with people he had hardly spoken to during his high school years. He had never been particularly outgoing, but Kikumaru had, and in trying to stay with him, Oishi found himself being tired out.
That night, the class had chosen to throw a "back to the 80's" party, with music and clothes from that period, since they all had been born during that decade. None of them were really familiar with 80's music and the dancing wasn't particularly apt for that time period, but the rhythm throbbed in the back of Oishi's skull as the strobe lights flickered at a blinding pace. A few of their classmates had elected to wear the truly memorable fashions of the era, but Oishi was relieved that it wasn't required. He thought he would have looked horrible in most of what the men who had decided to dress up were.
Fuji and Tezuka had chosen not to attend this gathering, and Kawamura had returned home to his wife, promising to bring her back for the last day of activities since they had a babysitter and she was feeling better. Inui had arrived with them, but quickly been absorbed by the organizing committee for some task or other, so it was only him and Kikumaru.
Oishi followed him all night, watching when Kikumaru was persuaded to join a woman on the dance floor, joining him as a quiet shadow whenever Kikumaru pulled away to the sides for a conversation with someone, and waiting for Kikumaru to finally decide to end the evening so they could return to their room. A few of the bolder women tried to persuade Oishi onto the floor, but Oishi politely deferred, explaining that he didn't dance. They pouted at him, but unlike when he was in high school, he had learned to let others deal with their disappointment.
Kikumaru flirted freely with the women who found him as fascinating as they had in high school, and a few of the husbands who had been acquired through out the intervening years gave him dirty looks before the red head smiled and bounced away, forgetting about whomever he had been paying attention within seconds. He flitted around like a butterfly, not concentrating at all and Oishi wondered where he got the energy from.
What really amazed Oishi, though, was Kikumaru's easy manner and the way he was able to pin names to whoever he was talking to, even if they had neglected to wear the name tags that they had been issued the night before.
"Kiriko-chan, you've gotten even prettier! If you hadn't gotten married, I'd be trying to persuade you to abandon the party and go out and have a private drink," Kikumaru said to a woman who had put on a few pounds from having children, but there was utter sincerity in his voice. Oishi hadn't even recognized the former slender cheerleader in the plump housewife, but there had been no hesitation in Kikumaru's greeting, and plenty of genuine warmth.
She blushed, and her husband smiled and wrapped a possessive hand around her waist. "You're too sweet, Eiji-san. You always were, though. I'm afraid having the twins made me lose my girlish figure..."
"That's why you're prettier. You glow with happiness," Kikumaru replied. Oishi stood at his side, watching as the woman demurred, but her husband produced a string of photos the length of his arm and began to display the images with paternal pride.
"This is right before Yuri took her first step... of course, Yume wasn't that far behind..."
Kikumaru was still, listening with intense interest as the pair talked of the joys of child rearing, and every now and then he asked a question, setting off fresh verbal tirades. He ignored the excitement of the dance around him in favor of a quiet conversation with a couple whose lives revolved around their children.
Oishi frankly found it painfully dull, but Kikumaru was enthralled. He didn't understand what was so interesting about it, but Kikumaru finally waved a hand in farewell as the couple saw someone else they simply had to speak to with a satisfied smile on his face.
"They're such a beautiful couple," he said, and a slightly wistful look crossed his face.
"Hmm," was all Oishi could find to say. He would have rather spent the time trying to pry information out of Kikumaru or hanging out with Fuji or Tezuka, but both of them had wisely made themselves scared.
Kikumaru looked away for a second. "It's nice to see a happy family," he said. "Sometimes it seems like they don't exist."
Something stuck a chord in Oishi. "Don't you work with children?"
"Yes," Kikumaru said. "Social services." Then the red head noticed another long-lost acquaintance and was off again, and Oishi followed in his wake.
The slight pause was enough to give Oishi plenty to think on. He had never really considered what his friend did for a living, merely letting himself be satisfied with the fact that Kikumaru had been able to make a successful career... but what kind of career was it, really?
Kikumaru had always been painfully extroverted, deriving tremendous amounts of energy from being around others, but apparently some of the changes had made him become more extroverted. The whirling dervish that was Oishi's friend faltered now and then, something that never would have happened in high school.
Another subtle change, but Oishi could have sworn he saw Eiji brace himself once or twice, taking a deep breath before plunging back into the midst of the large party. His laughter, while not forced, wasn't as ready as it had once been.
He seemed to be tiring more easily, and once or twice he flinched away from some of the louder, more vulgar members of the class before finally coming up with the playful comebacks that so many expected of him. No one really seemed to notice the difference in him, with many saying in satisfaction that Kikumaru was "the same old Eiji!"
He wasn't! Oishi wanted to exclaim.
Eventually, even the loudest party had to wind down. The gathering began to thin a little after one, and Kikumaru seemed to notice the retreating ranks right around the time Oishi was about to declare defeat. Oishi was having a hard time keeping his thoughts straight, and despite only taking two drinks, his head felt fuzzy from fatigue and weariness.
Kikumaru returned from the performing a truly impressive dance displace with a former classmate that showed that he was still quite capable of the acrobatic moves that made him so famous on the tennis court. Oishi held out a glass of punch he had retrieved while his former partner had been on the floor, which Kikumaru accepted with a nod of thanks. Gulping it down, the redhead wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand before turning to look at the door. Oishi nodded, in relief, and they fled.
The Ah-Un synchronization that they had worked so hard on remained in shadowed forms.
The elevator ride upstairs was a quiet one, with Oishi slowly regaining his clarity of thought while Kikumaru leaned drowsily against a wall. He seemed half-asleep and entirely vulnerable, and Oishi felt guilty about the impeding confrontation he was about to inspire.
But he needed to know.
Kikumaru had once been the person he trusted most, and he owed it to him.
When they reached their room, Oishi opened the door and waited for Kikumaru to precede him.
Oishi wondered how to broach the subject, but Kikumaru spoke first.
"It was a good party," Kikumaru said with quiet satisfaction, a dreamy smile playing on his lips. "It was nice to see everyone so happy."
"I wonder," Oishi said quietly.
"Wonder what?" Kikumaru asked curiously, tilting his head in the fashion that meant he, too, was becoming more alert.
Sometimes, Oishi knew, the best thing to do was to confront people head-on. "Eiji... are you happy?"
Kikumaru's eyelashes fluttered a few times as he processed the question. "I'm very happy to see you!" he said, waving it off.
"Eiji."
Oishi spoke in a tone he had learned while Tezuka was away in junior high, the voice which didn't accept jokes or evasion, but demanded the truth. He used it rarely, but the command inherent in it was undeniable.
It was strange, to see Kikumaru go so pale. Even though he was a natural red head, Kikumaru didn't have the fair coloring that was often associated with the hair color. His purple eyes looked feverish in his bloodless face as he sat heavily on the bed, before a slight smile pulled at his lips. "You know, I've been waiting for you to ask that. I knew you'd notice."
Oishi came over and slid beside him, turning to face Kikumaru so their knees were touching and he could grab Kikumaru's hands. They were cold, and Oishi rubbed them in an attempt to warm them up. "Eiji... what happened?" he asked.
"I screwed up." Kikumaru took a deep breath, and his smile faltered a little, even though it remained. "I... I kind of fell into my job. I had no clue what I wanted to do, so I took some courses here and there, and while I was in my third year, a professor suggested I try a few internships.
"One of them was at a local youth center, and I really liked it. I like working with kids, and they liked me. So I started of thinking of working with kids, maybe doing something to help them. Somehow it ended up as social work."
Oishi had known that Kikumaru had probably not chosen what he did intentionally, so the way he had wound up where he was wasn't surprising. "It sounds like a good choice," he said.
"I thought so," Kikumaru said. "But... it's not easy. I work in the foster care system. I'm a caseworker... and we have a really high burn out rate."
Oishi wasn't quite sure what caseworkers did. He had images of them taking kids away from abusive homes to places where they were safe, but that was about all. "Eiji... if you don't like your job, change it."
Kikumaru sighed, and pulled his hands away. "It's not that simple." His head turned toward the wall, and Oishi couldn't read the eyes which had always been so expressive. "Someone has to do it, Oishi. And... I'm needed there."
Oishi waited, knowing that Kikumaru was going to elaborate. Seeing the one he had always thought of as carefree look so intense was strange. Oishi had never thought that Kikumaru would take anything seriously...
But wasn't he serious about tennis? Wasn't he serious about his friends? Kikumaru had always had the ability to care, and apparently his job brought that slumbering ability to the surface.
"There's not enough men doing the work, and sometimes it's dangerous to send a woman into some of the homes alone. So I'll go with one of my coworkers to keep them safe, even though it's not required. We do a lot of visitations to places that I wouldn't let a dog live at, let alone a person. And... sometimes the boys won't talk to a woman, so I work better with them." A slight smile came to his face, and he turned back to Oishi. "But... I screwed up. I let myself care too much for one of them."
"Eiji?" Oishi asked, feeling frightened. Something about the way Kikumaru was speaking was foreign, and to Oishi, who had once known all of his partner's various moods, it was unsettling to see a Kikumaru who spoke with a world-weary tiredness in his eyes, and whose smile didn't reach his eyes.
"His name was Souji, and he was fourteen. I met him when he was eleven... he was in and out of the system constantly. But I liked him, because he'd listen to me, because I listened to him."
"Was? Eiji... what happened?" Oishi asked, grabbing Kikumaru's hands again.
"He wasn't right in the head, but he needed me. I was the only adult who cared for him, and he clung to me because of that. But..." Kikumaru paused, and haunted purple eyes turned to Oishi. "He died. He got hold of a razor someone had left in the bathroom at his foster home, and he slit his wrists and ankles." Kikumaru's voice was flat, like someone reciting a fact that really wasn't affecting him.
Oishi winced. "It wasn't your fault," he said, unable to think of anything else to say.
Kikumaru's fingers were limp. "That's what everyone tells themselves. I went to the funeral, and there were less than twenty people there. Souji didn't have any classmates who really knew him, and he never was able to stay in a home longer than six months. But... if it wasn't my fault, then whose was it?"
Oishi didn't know what to say to offer comfort. He hadn't anticipated anything like this, and as he looked at the one who was once so full of laughter and confidence he realized that he had underestimated Kikumaru. He hadn't given him enough credit.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, and then he wrapped his arms around Kikumaru, pulling him into a tight embrace. Kikumaru was stiff for a moment before his arms crept around Oishi's shoulders, and his rested wearily against Oishi's neck. "Some things we just can't place blame for."
"I know that, intellectually. But you can't tell your heart that, can you?" Kikumaru said, and his muffled voice seemed to vibrate against Oishi's chest.
Oishi tried to stifle the regret he had at not being there when Kikumaru had needed a friend. "No. You can't."
END PART SIX