The Sun Scratched in the Stars
A Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS fanfic
Summary: A boy on the run from a dangerous home situation falls asleep at a dojo in the countryside. Discovered and taken in by the owners, he grows to understand what love – and loss of that love – truly means, with the help of a rambunctious, fiery-spirited boy close to his age.
Chapter 21
Everything was blurry. His stomach flipped and flopped. Weird, though, since he ate nothing the last couple of days. Another wet towel was put on his forehead. It did no good. At best, it was lukewarm on his forehead. The heat in his body overpowered the coolness of the towel.
Takeru tried to take a deep breath, but it came out as a gasp. There were voices, voices getting louder. Takeru understood nothing. The pain was too much. But, as long as Takeru stayed like this, as long as he felt horrible, he had to stay with Jii-jii and Baa-baa. The longer he could stay away from home the better. So Takeru sucked it up.
But when Takeru turned over, a pair of blue-greyish eyes was staring at him. Jii-jii!
"Hey there, Firecracker," he said. His voice was low, soft. Unusual for Jii-jii. "Feel like talking?"
"About what? Jii-jii, am I in trouble?"
"I'll get going for lunch then—" Ryoken made his way to the door.
"Ryoken, you need to hear this too," Jii-jii said. "Kiku, you can eat if you want. We'll catch up to you."
"No," Kiku said. "I wanna hear this too."
He ruffled Takeru's hair. Takeru let a smile escape. "Fine. You rascals listen up then. No, Firecracker, you ain't in trouble. This ain't your old man's house where ya get in trouble for no reason."
Takeru widened his eyes, then closed them. "What is it?"
"Takeru."
The way Jii-jii said his name—firm, but no less soft, unlike Daddy and Ojii-chan—made him sit up. Something in Takeru's heart told him he was about to get scolded, though. Jii-jii never yelled at him, never said "you can't do this, you can't do that, can't, can't, can't."
But there was always a first time for everything.
"Now then." Jii-jii put a hand on top of Takeru's head. Takeru swallowed hard. "I did want to talk about your old man though. And Ryoko."
"Why?" The word came out like vomit. Not because Jii-jii mentioned Mommy. No, no, Takeru could never, never, ever, ever be mad at Mommy. But, lately, when Takeru thought of Daddy, Takeru had shooting pain in his arm. His heart too. His heart pounded so fast, it made Takeru dizzy.
Takeru hated that feeling.
"Touched a hot button already," Jii-jii said. "Takeru, why don't you want to talk about them?"
"I—" Takeru started, but then he looked up. His eyes met Ryoken's, then Kiku's. Then at his lap. The world was an ill-fitted blanket closing in on him. Maybe—no, not maybe. Ryoken ran away from home because of his papa. He would understand. But Kiku . . . Takeru knew. She would fight what he had to say.
Takeru kept his mouth shut.
"Takeru," Jii-jii said again, "you don't have to hide anything. You're safe here."
Safe . . .
Why was Takeru's body reacting like it was on the run then?
"Then . . . promise to keep this a secret from Mommy and Daddy?" Takeru asked. His throat closed. "Promise you wunt get me in trouble?"
Jii-jii made a gesture over his mouth, followed by a thumbs up. "My lips are sealed. Ryoken and Kiku won't say anything either." He looked over at them. "Right, you two?"
Ryoken nodded. Kiku, like Takeru expected, said nothing.
"Kiku."
At Jii-jii's voice, Kiku sighed, crossing her arms. "Okay, Jii-jii, Takeru. But nothing bad better come out of this. Like last time."
"Last time?" Takeru echoed. Ryoken and Jii-jii's eyes widened, Ryoken giving Kiku a look before Kiku covered her mouth. "What do you mean 'the last time?'" Takeru demanded. What was Kiku talking about?
That one day . . . no matter how much Takeru tried, he had trouble recalling, the one Mommy kept avoiding talking about, no matter how many times he asked. Was that it?
Kiku and Pretty Boy were in on it too?
Crow cleared his throat. "We'll talk about that later—"
"No, I wanna talk about that now," Takeru said, his throat scratchy, Jii-jii, Kiku, and Ryoken becoming blurry. "Stop keeping secrets from me!"
Takeru hated silence. The silence that followed was the worst. Everyone's mouths were magically glued like Takeru had cast a spell that did the opposite of what he wanted. Then Ryoken stepped forward, standing next to Jii-jii.
"Fine. Fine, Takeru, if it bothers you so much, I'll tell you," Ryoken said. He sounded like he was in pain.
Jii-jii put out a hand. "Ryoken, you don't have to—"
"I do." The way Ryoken said that was strange. Very adult-like. "If you won't tell him, if Homura obaa-san or Homura ojii-san won't tell him, if Hisahito-san or Ryoko-san won't tell him . . ." Ryoken bit his bottom lip. " . . . then I will."
Jii-jii sighed. Takeru looked at him for half a second when he felt a pair of cool hands wrapped around his neck, thumbs right under his chin. Takeru could only stare at Ryoken's eyes, only hearing his breathing, breathing like Takeru's. A hand tried to pull him away, but Ryoken was a rock, not moving.
"Takeru," Ryoken said, "you did this to me that night. But your grip . . . it was like you wanted me gone. Like you are now, I couldn't breathe well." Ryoken slowly released his grip. His shoulders were visibly shaking, and Takeru's chest started to hurt, bits and pieces of the memory of that night returning. "But, unlike you now, I wanted to live. So . . . I fought back."
"Ryoken!" Jii-jii said.
Takeru turned his head, putting a hand to the back of his head. "You slapped me. In the face. And I hit my head." The covers became blurry.
Ryoken swallowed. "Then Hisahito-san, Ryoko . . . they saw. They didn't like that. That's when. When Ryoko told me to stay away from you."
"Mommy did?" A new emotion welled up in Takeru's chest. It was much more than sad. Something Takeru never felt before. Takeru had been the reason they were separated, why Takeru had to stay in the house all that time, away from Kiku, from Ryoken. And it hurt. It hurt to know that.
Was this why they kept it a secret from him? Because they knew? They knew it would make him feel like this?
"Ryoken, enough," Jii-jii said, his eyes locked on Takeru's. "That's . . . more than enough."
Kiku walked up then, her eyes watery too. "Takeru, are you okay?"
Takeru gave a weak smile. "Everything is . . . okay," his voice wobbled. "I . . ." Tears fell out of his eyes anyway. He looked up to see Ryoken on his way out the door. Jii-jii, however, called out to him. Ryoken stopped in his tracks.
"No one's leaving the room yet. This little talk's not done," Crow said. "I wasn't banking on Ryoken spilling the beans about that, but maybe it was a good thing. Takeru, I'll just go on and ask then: are you staying sick on purpose to stay away from home?"
"What? Why would he do that?" Kiku blurted out. But Takeru looked at his lap. Adults were too smart.
"I am," Takeru said. "I dun wanna go back there. I dun wanna hear the screaming, the yelling, Mommy getting her feelings hurt every night. I dun like it." Takeru let a few tears fall. "Mommy wunt stand up for herself. I hate seeing that. I hate how they treat her. I dun want to see her hurt anymore."
Kiku gasped, but it was Ryoken who was up in Takeru's face again. He raised his hand. Takeru braced himself, but nothing came—Ryoken had a fist to his side.
"You idiot," Ryoken spat. "That should be more of a reason to go back! Ryoko needs you to be there."
"No! No, Ryoken!" Takeru shouted back. "Adults have no need for kids like me . . . like us . . ." Takeru crossed his arms, curling himself in a ball. "I . . . I just make things worse. I would be better off here."
Ryoken took a step back. "Takeru . . ."
But Takeru smiled. It was rare, to see Ryoken so defeated. "I know Kiku never thinks of running away from home. Ryoken . . . you ran away from home too. Why are you mad?"
"Ran away?" Jii-jii and Kiku echoed. Huh, so Takeru was the only one who knew.
"I'm not mad! I'm . . ." Ryoken sighed. "I'm frustrated you would give up like this. Frustrated that you would give up on being with Ryoko, even though she's . . ."
Takeru's heart leaped into his throat, Ryoken's last word hitting him hard. Was Mommy still sick?
"She what?" Takeru demanded. "Is Mommy okay?"
Jii-jii sighed. "She tells one, but not the other? What is she thinking?" Takeru looked at him, waiting for more. Jii-jii's eyes softened. "She's fine, Firecracker. But Pretty Boy here's right. Ryoko's going through a lot of changes. She'll need help. 'specially in a couple of months."
"A couple of months?"
Jii-jii grinned, ruffling Takeru's hair. "Uh-huh. So get better and do your best, Big Brother Takeru!"
Takeru blinked. What was Jii-jii trying to say? 'Big Brother?' "Jii-jii, I keep telling you that—"
"Takeru!" Kiku squealed as she locked him in a tight hug. "We're gonna be the same! Benji and your baby brother or sister will be good friends too, I just know it!"
Takeru blinked again. "I . . . I dun get it. What are you saying?"
A sigh pierced through Takeru's eardrums. "Takeru, Ryoko is pregnant."
"Using big words wunt help me none, Pretty Boy," Takeru huffed. "Is that bad?"
Another sigh entered—this time, coming from Baa-baa. Takeru sat up.
"All three of you are hopeless," she sighed. After dabbing another cold towel on Takeru's forehead, Baa-baa took his hands in hers. "You still don't understand what Ryoken, Kiku, or Jii-jii are talking about, do you, Firecracker?" Takeru shook his head. Baa-baa smiled. "Do you remember those clothes we knitted together before Benji was born?"
Takeru's eyes widened. "Yeah! They were super small. Like you could put them on a doll!"
"Yes, yes." Baa-baa nodded. "And remember when we handed them to Kiku's mommy, how she looked then?"
Takeru closed his eyes. Mama Kamishirakawa with her big belly and a green dress that reminded him of mint toothpaste and Baa-baa handing her a swirly box full of the clothes they had knitted. Takeru had been squinting his eyes constantly—the sun was super bright that day. But he could never forget how Mama Kamishirakawa looked—she had a lot of trouble walking, but she had a glow.
Like Mommy used to have, the one Takeru needed to always be by. Used to.
"Yeah, her belly was biiiiiiig," Takeru said, stretching out his arms.
Jii-jii coughed, but Baa-baa continued, "That's right Firecracker. She was carrying Benji inside her then. So, like Kiku's mother, Mommy's carrying someone else inside her."
Takeru blinked. "So . . . Benji was inside Mama Kamishirakawa? How did he get in and out then? Did she eat him?"
Jii-jii's coughing got even louder as Baa-baa stared him down, Takeru glad Jii-jii was the target, not him. Ryoken nodded.
"I asked Ryoko the same thing," the pretty boy said. "But she just told me to ask her parents . . ."
"You guys are stupid," Kiku huffed. "You really have no idea where babies come from?"
"No?" Takeru said at the same time Pretty Boy did. It was nice knowing Pretty Boy had no clue about some things.
Baa-baa sighed as she gently pushed Takeru down on the bed. It was so cozy . . . "Kiku, we don't use that word."
"Says the one who keeps calling me her idiot husband . . ." Jii-jii grumbled but loudly enough that even Takeru could hear. And Baa-baa too, who gave him another look. Jii-jii coughed.
Kiku pouted. "Sorry, Baa-baa."
"Well, where do babies come from, Big Sister Kiku?" Takeru asked, his voice teasing.
Kiku puffed her chest, her arms at her hips, taking a deep breath. She looked at Jii-jii and Baa-baa, then said, "Obviously," Kiku said, like she just learned that word yesterday, "the mommy eats baby-growing seeds, and when she drinks enough water for nine months, then the baby grows and when it's too big, it comes out."
Not even the last word came out of Kiku before a howling and the clunk of a fallen something filled the room. Takeru stared at Jii-jii, who was laughing so hard, his eyes were tearing, his voice wheezing, his cane having fallen by his feet. Baa-baa stared at him, arms crossed, upside-down smile, eyelids lowered.
"Oh, oh my god, my stomach hurts," Jii-jii said, "I can't. I—" More wheezing and laughter overtook him before he could finish. Baa-baa gave him a whack so hard, Takeru thought he heard the bones in Jii-jii's head snap.
"Will you stop that?" Baa-baa sighed as Jii-jii rubbed the back of his head. "If they don't know, they don't know."
Takeru felt a pounding in his own head, though not from Jii-jii and Baa-baa's talking. But he took a deep breath, not wanting to cause any more trouble. "Then, Baa-baa, where do babies come from?"
It was Baa-baa's turn to cough. Why was this such a touchy issue for Jii-jii and Baa-baa?
"Come on, Aki," Jii-jii said with a sly grin. "Better they find out now from us than from the big wide world out there."
Baa-baa sighed as she put a hand on Takeru's forehead. "These days, babies come in lots of ways. But, still, the most common—really, still the only accepted way—is through a mommy, a mommy who hopefully will love that baby very much."
"But . . ." Ryoken spoke up, " . . . how does the baby get there?"
"Yeah. Is Kiku right then?" Takeru stared at Baa-baa.
" . . . Partially." Baa-baa coughed. Jii-jii also coughed, like something was in his throat and trying to get out. "Ahhh." Baa-baa sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. "It'd be so much better if Ryoko and Tamiko told you three."
"But Ryoko told Ryoken to ask us, remember?" Jii-jii leaned on Baa-baa, a sly smile on his face. "Fine, I'll tell them. So ya see, ya rascals, when two people are in a really good mood and just can't keep it in their—"
"Crow!" Baa-baa said, whacking him on the arm. Takeru thought he saw some pink on Baa-baa's cheeks. "No! We're not explaining it like that!"
"'Their'?" Ryoken echoed.
"Yeah!" Takeru said. "'Their' what, Jii-jii?"
Baa-baa sighed as Jii-jii smirked at her.
"Baa-baa doesn't want me to say anything else, so that's as much as you're gonna get." Jii-jii grinned. "For the most part, babies come from two people. Not birds, like your old folks might tell you. That's it for now."
Takeru frowned and crossed his arms. He still didn't get it. But Baa-baa and Jii-jii—more so Baa-baa—wanted to say nothing else. One thing was finally clear to Takeru, though: Mommy had a baby inside her belly like Mama Kamishirakawa did. And in several months, that baby will come out.
And that would make Takeru . . . a big brother.
Takeru should've felt happy, that he was gonna have someone new to play with. But, instead, he was worried. Worried how the adults will treat that baby once they could walk. Worried how the baby will get punished once they learn to talk and if they say anything out of line . . . in the adult mind, anyway.
If what Baa-baa and Jii-jii said was true, then Takeru did need to go back. But, as Daddy's harsh face and images of Daddy yelling at Mommy flashed in his mind, Takeru's heart wavered. If only he could just go back to Mommy. If only he could be with just her.
And Ryoken.
But Ryoken . . .
"Takeru? Takeru!"
Takeru sat up. Kiku was standing next to him, her brown eyes concerned, caring. Takeru smiled.
"Yeah, Kiku?"
Kiku huffed. "If you need any advice on how to be a big brother, just ask."
Takeru grinned. "You know everything about being a big sister now, huh?"
"Basically, yeah!" Kiku beamed. "We can't have your younger brother or sister turning out like you. I gotta make sure that doesn't happen."
Takeru smirked. "Then I will make sure they do!"
Kiku huffed. Shortly after, a cough ripped through Takeru's throat, slimy stuff coming out, staining his shirt, promptly followed by Kiku pushing against his shoulder so that he fell back down on the pillow.
"Then get better," Kiku said. Takeru noticed her bottom lip shaking. "Get better and fast, Takeru."
Ryoken sighed as he balanced the tray of steaming miso soup and opened the door to Takeru's room – temporary room.
"Takeru, your dinner."
A mutter. Ryoken raised an eyebrow. Takeru usually just covered himself more under the bright blue and green plush blankets and soft covers. And usually, Ryoken just left him alone, not wanting to see him anymore in that state than he had to.
This had gone on long enough.
So when Takeru finished muttering, Ryoken dragged the covers, uncovering a very disheveled Takeru, his hair going every which way, like a flame on a candle gone wild. Takeru glared at him, Ryoken right back at him.
"What ya do that for?" Takeru said. His voice was very nasty.
"What's that voice for?" Ryoken returned. "I'm trying to help you."
"Only because Baa-baa asked." Takeru turned over, his back facing Ryoken. "Goody two shoes."
Ryoken sighed. It was like Takeru had gone back to how he was before, before that night. Ryoken shouldn't have said anything. He should've been like the adults dancing around the subject and kept his mouth shut, and maybe Takeru wouldn't have remembered how much of a jerk he was before.
It really had been better Takeru didn't know.
Yet, seeing Takeru so in the dark, so confused—Ryoken couldn't help it. He thought if Takeru knew how much Ryoko and Hisahito cared about him, it would get him to feel better. He was choosing to be sick, right?
It was true Takeru was somewhat better than before. Aki, however, still said he wasn't healthy enough to leave.
Once again, Ryoken just made things worse.
It was bad enough Kiku had to go back. A family emergency had come up, so Kiku had to leave before Ryoken and Takeru. It had been very early in the morning too, the dark blue sky turning orange and light blue, birds chirping in the large trees with coloring leaves surrounding the sleepy neighborhood. Ryoken could barely open his eyes as Kiku explained what happened, why she had to go.
"Take care of Takeru, 'kay?" Kiku's eyes pleaded.
Ryoken nodded as she smiled – worriedly – and headed off.
It'd been two days since. If only Kiku were still here.
Maybe that's why Takeru was so nasty to him. But didn't Takeru say they were friends? It shouldn't matter that Kiku left. Or that Aki was the one who asked to look after him. Ryoken didn't get it.
Ryoken set the tray with miso soup down on the low table, the clinking of the bowl rattling against the tray. Takeru only curled up even more in the bed, like a roll under the covers. So Ryoken exhaled softly and turned, his hand on the doorknob. But, as he gripped the doorknob, a loud cough rattled against the walls. Ryoken whacked his hand against the steel knob, the pain like a thousand needles.
That scared me . . .
Massaging his right hand, Ryoken grabbed the door again but was stopped by a weak "Ryoken?" He turned to the lump sticking out from under the bed.
"I'm going to my room," he said, his voice trembling, heart pounding in his chest. "I'll come back."
"No."
No? "Huh?"
"No," Takeru said again, louder. "Stay here, Ryoken."
"I don't get it," Ryoken said. "You've been ignoring me all this time. Now you want me to stay? Which is it?"
"I . . ." A cough. Ruffling of covers. "Ryoken, stay with me. It's scary with no one else here. I dun want to be alone."
"I'll just get Aki or Crow to stop in then—" Ryoken said as he turned the handle.
Then came a small whisper, a whisper that—had Ryoken not been paying attention—he could've easily missed. The smallest whisper, yet the loudest to Ryoken's heart: "But I want you, Ryoken."
Ryoken's throat tightened.
Ryoken could've just opened the door and let the air slam it shut behind him as he went to Crow and Aki. "Takeru wants to see you," he would lie, ignoring the screaming in his heart, ignoring what Takeru quietly yet firmly said.
That's what the old Ryoken, the Ryoken who wandered into Shirakawa and decided to stay until he was sure Father had come to his senses, would've done.
But the Ryoken in Crow and Aki's house at that moment, standing in the same space as Takeru—he realized—was different. Ryoken didn't want to leave Shirakawa. Why? The Homuras treated him nice enough. That didn't change that he was still an outsider. In their own ways, the Homuras—especially Hisahito-san—made sure he remembered that.
There was only one reason Ryoken stuck around for as long as he had.
Ryoken slowly walked back, pulling the chair away from the dresser, the tray of miso soup untouched. He grabbed the tray, poking the mass underneath the covers with it.
"You better eat before it gets cold."
The mass turned over towards him and the blankets were uncovered, lilac eyes peering at him. "Okay."
When Takeru didn't move from his spot, merely staring at Ryoken, Ryoken sighed, feeling his cheeks warm. "Why are you staring?"
"Nice and warm here. Dun wanna move," Takeru said.
"But you're hungry, right?" No sooner had Ryoken asked that, a loud grumble erupted from underneath the covers. Ryoken snickered. "Come on, Takeru. Your stomach's tired of these games too."
"Then you feed me. Not. Moving," Takeru huffed, wrapping the covers closer.
Ryoken exhaled through his nose. How was Takeru supposed to be a big brother when he acted like a big baby?
"Do you act like this with everyone when you're sick?" Ryoken gathered some lukewarm noodles with chopsticks. "Here."
Takeru moved his head, slurping the noodles into his mouth, then stared at Ryoken, his head sinking into the pillow. "Noooo," Takeru said, a loopy smile on his face, "Just youuu, Ryoken-chaaaan."
Ryoken looked away, his face like it was pushed into static. What the heck?! Takeru was acting weird. Really weird. Being sick for so long must've gotten to his brain. But . . . was it really just his sickness talking?
"I thought—" Ryoken put more noodles out, "—you hated me, Takeru."
Takeru's eyes widened as he took the noodles into his mouth. "Why? Why would I hate you?"
No. No, this seriously couldn't be happening.
"You've been ignoring me, you've been acting real nasty to me—" Ryoken swallowed, "—for the last couple of days. Why would you do that if you didn't hate me?"
Takeru's eyes softened. "I dun hate you, Ryoken. Friends dun hate friends."
"But—" Ryoken said before a hand reached out from under the covers, grabbing his hand holding the chopsticks, Takeru's eyes on him the whole time.
"You act too much like the adults," Takeru said. "That's what I dun like, Ryoken. It scares me."
A pang ripped through Ryoken's heart. "I. I can't help that," Ryoken said, trying to untangle his hand from Takeru's. But Takeru held on, so Ryoken gave up. "I can't help . . . that I can't be like you."
"You dun have to!" Takeru said. "Ryoken, just be yourself!"
What . . . did that mean? The way Ryoken's been behaving so far—every decision, every word, every action—wasn't that Ryoken being himself?
"But I am!" Ryoken said. "Why are you saying that?"
Takeru grabbed Ryoken's hand tighter, his eyes shining so bright, like Takeru was going to cry at any moment. Ryoken's heart pounded in his chest, his throat so, so dry. "Wrong, Ryoken," Takeru said. "Wrong, wrong, wrong!" Takeru's eyes watered, and drops began to fall, staining the blue mask that clung to his ears and his face. Takeru's eyes slammed shut, and Ryoken knew then what was to follow. As soon as he moved the tray and the rest of the soup, another loud, violent coughing spell ripped through the air. Ryoken thought a lung was going to come out. After the spell had broken, Takeru collapsed into Ryoken's arms, his breathing shallow.
"Hold on, Takeru! I'll get Crow or Aki—" Ryoken said, but Takeru shook his head, his wheezing even more noticeable.
"No . . . Stay here," Takeru gripped Ryoken's shirt, pulling himself so that his head was on his chest. "Stay . . . here," Takeru whispered. Ryoken swallowed as his arms moved on their own to wrap Takeru—and tight, like his life depended on it.
None of it made any sense.
"Takeru . . . Why? Why won't you get better?" Ryoken whispered, the whistling of Takeru's breathing in his ears. Takeru didn't respond right away, so he probably fell asleep. But Takeru nuzzled his nose against Ryoken's shirt, little hiccups escaping, like he was holding back tears again.
"Dun wanna leave," Takeru said. "Wanna stay here. With you."
That wasn't the answer he expected. Ryoken's heart pounded even more in his chest. Takeru definitely heard it. Hisahito-san could be hard to deal with, but Ryoko and Homura ojii-chan and Homura obaa-chan were fine. But as long as Hisahito-san was at the Homura house, as long as Takeru, it seemed, felt threatened by him, of course he'd rather stay with Crow and Aki, who didn't seem to like Hisahito-san all that much either—to say the least.
But Takeru didn't say "With Jii-jii and Baa-baa."
"What . . . are you talking about?" Ryoken laughed, but his eyes stung. "I'm just here to visit Crow and Aki, like you. When you get better, we're both heading back to Ryoko and—"
"Dun act stupid!" Takeru lightly punched Ryoken's chest. It pounded as though it were a real punch. "I know Baa-baa asked you to stay."
Ryoken tried to swallow it. A gasp escaped anyway. He'd heard that? No, there's just no way—
"Who told you?" Ryoken's arms fell to his sides.
"Nobody." Takeru buried his face even more into Ryoken's shirt. "I heard you and Baa-baa talking. If I get better, I have no choice but to go back to Daddy and you get to stay here. I dun want that. I dun wanna go back there." Ryoken gasped as Takeru balled up Ryoken's shirt in his hands. "Not without you."
So that's what this was all about.
Ryoken didn't mean to laugh, but it came out anyway, like it was the only way to release all the hurt, all the pain, all the worry that had built up the last few days.
Takeru . . . Takeru didn't hate him after all.
"Dun laugh at me," Takeru said. Ryoken could hear the pout in his voice. But it wasn't ill-willed.
"I-I'm not," Ryoken said. And that was the truth. "It's me—" Ryoken smiled, "—for being a little stupid."
"A little?" Takeru repeated.
"Hey."
Takeru pushed himself slowly off Ryoken as he laughed, which made Ryoken laugh too. Suddenly, Takeru stopped short. Ryoken followed.
"So . . . you're not staying with Jii-jii and Baa-baa?" Takeru looked intensely at Ryoken. For the first time, Ryoken could see the toll the illness had on Takeru—his eyes were puffy, the top of his nose red like his hair, skin so pale, it was ghostlike.
Ryoken shook his head. "No. No, I'm not."
"I dun get it," Takeru said, laying back down. "You seem so happy here, Ryoken. I dun blame you if you want to stay."
"What . . . do you mean 'happy'?"
Takeru laughed a little. "You dun know what that means either?" Ryoken's cheeks warmed, but he didn't say a word. "Happy is . . ." Takeru turned over, ". . . well, I dun know how to explain it. But I know when someone is happy, they have this bright glow to them. I see that glow with you, Ryoken. But with Mommy and Daddy, you dun have it."
Ryoken sighed. "I don't think I get it, Takeru, but . . . I do see why you like visiting Crow and Aki." Ryoken softly smiled. "I mean, I'd like to stay, but . . ."
Ryoken stopped, his heart pounding even more.
"But?" Takeru echoed.
Ryoken turned his face, his cheeks the warmest—no, the hottest they've ever been. He couldn't say it. The truth—it's too much, too personal, too open. But the way Takeru kept looking at him, his eyes wide, expecting—Ryoken had to say something.
"Your face is super-duper red!" Takeru sat up, poking a finger to his cheek, which, of course, made the burning sensation even worse. Takeru immediately pulled his finger back. "Oh no, are you sick too? Maybe you should get Baa-baa to look at—"
"No!" Ryoken waved a hand. "No, that's not what . . ." Ryoken pulled the top of his shirt over the bottom half of his face, taking deep breaths as the weird feeling went away.
But his heart was still pounding.
Takeru had made a big fuss about keeping secrets. Ryoken was tired of keeping secrets anyway—including secrets about how he felt.
"Then what?" Takeru asked, his face very, very close.
Ryoken took a deep breath.
"Takeru, I want to be with you."