...Um, at least it's before Christmas, right? Gawd, this is pathetic, 4 chapters in one year :sweatdrop:
Merry Christmas, and anything else you practice!
ÕoÖoÔoÖ Christmas Warmth ÕoÖoÔoÖ
Satoshi stirred and yawned largely, rubbing his eyes vigorously to free them from sleep. Blinking owlishly, he sat up slowly, gazing at his surroundings with his head tilted to the side. An abrupt 'kyuu!' resounded from his lap as something stirred on it, and he started out of surprise. Wiz stared at him from below, jeweled eyes gleaming, and Satoshi chuckled at himself for having been surprised by it.
That's right, he thought. He was at the Niwas', Courtesy of his sprained ankle, Daisuke, and Fortune's odd workings. The couch was comfortable, and he sat there for a while longer, watching the unfamiliar surroundings. The whole house smelled strongly of… Christmas. That was the best way to describe it. The Christmas tree in the corner sent the scent of pine to linger around the living room, joined by the cinnamon smell of different ornaments, and the various aromas of the candles that adorned the lavish living room. Now however, there was one added scent wafting throughout the house- dinner. His stomach began rumbling expectantly, the rich warm smell of turkey and mashed potatoes, and a variety of other things he'd never be able to pick out by smell alone.
Wiz apparently had decided that he'd had enough of Satoshi's lap, no matter how comfortable it'd been, and squealed shortly before clambering off. The blue-haired commander watched it jump on the couch opposite of his, sapphires following the small white furball as it snuggled against the body sleeping on it.
Red hair falling onto peach skin closed over shining rubies, a pencil and sketchpad lying limply in his hands as his head tilted to the side to lie on the armrest… Daisuke had fallen asleep, and Satoshi thought the scene looked…well, he wasn't sure how to describe the peaceful warmth he felt, in fact, he hadn't been able to at all since he'd walked into this house. He was sure it had something to with the boy slumbering quietly opposite of him, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. Neither could he on why he couldn't tear his eyes away from him, why his sight seemed to linger on the vibrant red hair, the small kind hands that had held him up earlier, the cheerful voice that had been lined with something darker underneath, but nonetheless had awakened feelings inside him that he hadn't felt since he'd been a little kid. Somehow, Daisuke was melting the ice that Satoshi had built around himself.
"Have a good nap?"
Satoshi jumped, startled out of his reverie. He looked up hurriedly to find a tall, dark-haired man with gentle coal-black eyes smiling at him. He blushed, the faint pink contrasting with the blue of his eyes and hair, as he realized that he'd been caught staring at Daisuke.
"Um, yeah," he stammered.
"I'm Niwa Kosuke, Daisuke's father. I presume you're Hiwatari Satoshi?" the man held out his hand, as opposed to bowing. The American gesture threw him off for a moment, but he followed suit quickly and held out his hand as well. He could sense the same kind of tame gentleness and perception of emotion that emanated from Daisuke from his father, whence his cheerful optimism and looks were clearly his mother's.
"Emiko's about to serve the food, so she'll be calling you boys soon," he said amiably, and Satoshi felt at ease with him. He felt no threat, no overbearing presence from this man, only humble wisdom and a fatherly tone.
Kosuke leaned over his son, placing his hand on the boy's forehead. Daisuke stirred, opening half-lidded eyes to look up at his father.
"Otou-san?"
Kosuke furrowed his brow, "You feel a little warm, are you feeling alright?"
Daisuke caught Satoshi looking on curiously at them and hurriedly looked away, batting his father's arm away, "Yeah, I'm totally fine," he jumped up from the couch, waving his arms energetically, "See?"
Kosuke watched him for a moment, his gaze flickering towards the commander, "I see," he smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, I was just making sure the cold doesn't get anyone sick. It's going to snow heavily tonight, seems like."
"More snow?" the red-haired boy looked thoughtful, and Satoshi was surprised to see a tinge of sadness glaze his eyes. It was gone as Daisuke raised his eyes to look at Satoshi, but he was sure he'd seen it. It troubled him, and it was further troubling to realize that someone else's sadness bothered him.
"I'm really happy this Christmas we'll have snow. Last year there wasn't any, and I was afraid this year we wouldn't either. But it's been snowing a lot, hasn't it?"
"Just for you," Kosuke smiled, and Daisuke returned the gesture before turning to Satoshi.
"Is your foot feeling any better?" the flame-haired boy asked, setting aside his sketchpad on the table.
"A little," he tried to shift his foot, but it was still rather painful, and he winced. They both looked up as Emiko walked in the doorway, apron gone and a serving spoon in her hands.
"Dinner's ready boys!" she beamed, "I made lots of good stuff, there's the turkey of course, and pork, and baked potatoes, and vegetable stir-fry, and pie and a chocolate cake for dessert—"
"Sounds delicious, honey," Kosuke pecked her lips lovingly, and she sighed happily. Satoshi was unable to hide the surprise and curiosity at watching the loving parents.
"You do realize we're standing under mistletoe, right?" she nudged his chest teasingly. Her husband blinked and looked up to find the pointy green and red plant hanging above.
"I've never been one to defy tradition, have I?" he smiled and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she leaned up to twirl her fingers in his dark hair. Satoshi blushed and looked away, and Daisuke caught his motion and laughed, scratching his head embarrassedly.
"Well, it's cause it's Christmas and all, you know?"
Satoshi glanced back, unable to hide the twitching of the corner of his lips, "They act like teenagers."
Emiko broke away from Kosuke, placing her hands on her hips, "And how old do you think we are, hm? I bet you can't tell I'm older than twenty. Are you saying we're old?"
Satoshi gulped and held his hands up defensively, "Of course not, ma'am, I didn't mean to sound rude. I—"
Daisuke and his father laughed at Satoshi's discomfort and embarrassment, and Emiko's indignant pride.
"You're just as beautiful as when I met you, honey," Kosuke smiled, drawing his wife back into his arms, "He didn't mean it like that."
Emiko pouted and marched into the kitchen, stating clearly, "I still fit in my high-school uniform, I can act like a teenager all I want."
Kosuke followed her, laughing under his breath. Daisuke and Satoshi looked at each other.
"Boys!"
"Coming!"
The blue-haired boy struggled up on one leg, feeling kind of ridiculous at the prospect of hopping on one foot all the way to the kitchen table—it sounded so weird, he'd never been over at another boy's house, now that he thought about it. And he'd never eaten dinner at a kitchen table either, he was used to eating on the couch as he mindlessly watched the news, or as he walked home from the police station.
"You need some help?" the sparkling rubies were accompanied by a slightly cocky grin, as Daisuke clearly found the commander's pride and the barely hidden sulk at having to nod a yes utterly amusing. An arm was wrapped around his shoulder to hoist him up.
"Daisuke, are you sure you don't want me to help him?" Kosuke's face was wrinkled with fatherly worry, but Satoshi wondered why.
"'Tou-san, I'm fine. I don't need any help," Daisuke said patiently, but there was an almost exasperated thread underneath.
"But… ah, I guess so…" the dark-haired man seemed to give up the futile endeavor, whatever it had been, and stepped into the kitchen, where the two boys followed him.
Satoshi gaped at the amount of food on the table. It had to be even more lavish than anything he'd ever read about in a book, or seen on TV on those stereotypical holiday commercials with the perfect, smiling family enjoying a perfect dinner where nothing went wrong. The huge turkey plopped on the middle of the table, decorated in evergreens and gleaming with moisture and rich brown sauce. The smell was tantalizing, tickling every horizon of his senses, the rich smell of meat with the barely discernible sharp scent of mint, and the tangy waft of orange marmalade sauce. Mashed potatoes and gravy were next in the line-up, along with a bowl of salad heaped high with all sorts of greens and fruits. Pudding and cherry pie, as well as a small chocolate fondue predetermined the dessert.
"Wow Mom, it looks so good!"
"This is great honey."
"Oi, oi, don't let her get all the credit, I helped out too."
Satoshi took notice of the old man sitting already sitting at the table, and recognized him from the family photo he'd seen in the living room.
"Ah, Satoshi-kun, this is my grandfather," Daisuke introduced him.
Satoshi's first reflex was to bow, but his current position, being held up Daisuke, made it rather difficult. The old man, Daiki, smiled in that disarming way older people often had, completely unassuming but very much aware.
"Time to eat!" Emiko squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. Motioning for everyone to seat, she began serving the food, "Now, you do eat meat, right?"
Satoshi blinked and nodded, but Daisuke's grandfather groaned, "Emiko, you're not going to start again with this, are you?"
The red-haired boy sitting next to Satoshi leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Mother asks this every time a guest comes over for dinner, because-"
Emiko's voice cut across the dinner table, as Kosuke and his father-in-law both sweatdropped, "When I was a little girl, I brought a friend over for dinner. And she was a vegetarion. And you know what 'Tou-san did? He served meat to her! And we tried to tell him over and over again, but he practically forced poor Miki-chan to eat it! She was almost about to cry when your Grandfather finally realized it! It was horrible, she never came back to our house again! The poor—"
"Just serve the food already…" Daiki interrupted hurriedly. Emiko sniffed indignantly, but proceeded.
Satoshi chuckled under his breath. They were such a comfortable family. He figured most families were like that, but as he spent all of his life either at work or home alone, he didn't really get much of a chance to see families interacting.
Satoshi tried to remain quiet most of the meal, listening to the other talking and laughing, mostly out of a mix of politeness and shyness. Well, and that he wasn't a talker, but that was a given. It was in vain, however, as the family was eager to include him in their conversations, and he was surprised to find that he was easily coerced into talking a lot. This was probably the most he'd ever talked to anyone, other than at school during lengthy oral reports. It was downright odd, but he found, once again with surprise, that he didn't mind sharing a lot of things about himself that before he'd never even thought of telling anyone. He'd finish saying something, feel like an idiot for spilling something that was probably rather stupid, but would then find that everyone was listening intently, no judgment or scorn in their eyes, and the feeling would ebb away.
"Hey, Satoshi-kun, what school do you go to?" Daisuke bit a piece of buttered bread, the melted butter glistening on his lips, and that, coupled with the tug-and-bend of his lips as he chewed had the odd power to hold Satoshi's rapt attention.
"Ah…" he blinked and tore his eyes away from the red-haired boy, who took a napkin to wipe his mouth, oblivious, "Azumano Middle."
Daisuke's eyes widened, "No way! That's where I go!"
"Really?' Satoshi stared, as something clicked, "Wait… then you're… the artist!"
No wonder his name had seemed familiar, and even his face. How many times had Satoshi not heard the name mentioned for various awards in art? Satoshi, being an art enthusiast himself, and not a bad painter either, had been admiring Daisuke's works for years, but had never paid the creator's name much heed, thinking him to be in a lower class after seeing him from a distance one afternoon in the art room.
For his part, Daisuke too was shocked, "So then you're the one who gets the top scores in all the tests! I hear you graduated college too!"
"Wow, isn't that a funny coincidence?" Emiko squealed, watching the two bewildered boys.
"What class are you in?"
"9-A."
'That's why we haven't seen each other much, I'm in 9-B," Satoshi smiled. Daisuke beamed.
"This is great! This means we can see each other in school now!"
The commander found his enthusiasm amusing, but nonetheless felt excited himself too. The conversation quickly moved onto teachers and school subjects, and art, as it was something both boys enjoyed.
"I'm so glad we get a break from school though, you know? It's fun and all, but during break I can see my friends every day. Takeshi was supposed to come over yesterday, but he found a new scoop to report," Daisuke spoke animatedly. Satoshi knew who Takeshi Saehara was, his father was one of his employees, after all, and the commander had seen him snooping around the crime scenes trying to find a hot story.
"Speaking about people who were supposed to come over…" Kosuke interrupted, looking at his wife, "Is he going to come? It's a bit late, but we could give him a call."
"Yeah, 'Kaa-san, I thought he said he'd come?" Daisuke piped in.
Emiko shook her head, sighing, "That boy. I called in earlier, and he said he'd think about it. And when I called right before dinner, he didn't answer the phone. Really, he knows how important this is to us…" she spoke reprovingly, but her words were kind and sympathetic, "But don't blame him, Dai-chan, Christmas is just a hard time for him, as you know. He promised he'd come for New Year's though, and he better stick to that!" her voice had risen from a worried tone to an almost threatening one, and the table laughed.
Satoshi wondered who they were talking about, but figured it was none of his business and didn't ask. Daisuke seemed slightly disappointed at the news that whoever it was wasn't coming, and the rest of the meal was passed by in small talk and pleasant exchanges. By the end of the meal, Satoshi's plate, which had been piled high with all sorts of food, lay empty, and he, stuffed.
"Here, I'll take your plate since you can't walk," the ruby-eyed boy offered, and Satoshi thanked him, handing over the empty plate once dinner had finished and the table was being cleared.
The blue-haired boy concentrated on the task of getting out of the chair and on his feet with his twisted ankle. There was a sudden, startling crash, and his attention, along with that of the adults, turned toward the source.
Daisuke's hand clutched the countertop for support so tightly his knuckles had turned a pale grey, only a couple shades paler than his face. The glass on the floor had broken, but no one paid any attention to that as the fire-headed boy swayed in his spot. Alarmed, Satoshi's first impulse was to dash forward, but the sharp pain that gnashed at his leg made him crumble back into the chair with a hiss. Kosuke beat him to it, rushing to support his son, and Emiko muttered a short 'oh no,' before turning to dig through the drawers in search of something.
Feebly fighting away his father's hands, the red-haired boy sat down, his eyes slightly glazed. His mouth opened and closed several times, and short sounds came out, but no coherent words. Satoshi felt out of place, and very uneasy, unable to do anything more than watch. This wasn't something he was supposed to see, or that Daisuke wanted him to see, he was sure. He felt like he was intruding on something he shouldn't have, and didn't even have the courage to speak up and ask if he was alright, as his parents had already done so.
"Daisuke? Here," his mother knelt in front of him, her rose-red eyes frightened and anxious. Daisuke was aware enough to hold out his hand, taking the pill that was placed in it into this mouth and swallowing with some difficulty.
A few breathless, tense seconds later, during which the room seemed the be stifled by a clammy hand that would not let go, his eyes back to an almost normal level of alertness, the Daisuke stood up, against his parents' protests, his voice just a tad unsteady, "Just a dizzy spell, it's gone now."
His reassuring smile was anything but.
"But Daisuke-chan, honey, are you sure you don't want to lie down?" his mother was the picture of worried maternal affection, his father's hand still pressed to his back. Daiki let the parents fuss over the child while he cleaned up the glass shards, but it was clear by the furtive glances that he was worried as well.
"Okaa-san, otou-san… not right now… I'm fine now, really," despite the fact that he was clearly grateful for the concern, it was also obvious that he didn't want it at the moment. Satoshi could imagine that he was embarrassed by having a guest around, but this seemed too serious to be concerned about something as trifling as that.
The grim tension was like a blanket stretched taut over the room, an unseen barrier that seemed to resonate between them. Kosuke, being the sensible man he was, realized that this was a losing battle and stepped back, touching his wife's arm briefly. She seemed to admit defeat, touching her son's cheek before sighing.
"Well!" she clapped her hands and forced a smile. Turning to Satoshi, smiling, he felt awkward at finally being acknowledged since the small crisis, "Why don't you boys go into the living room, while we pick up the kitchen, hm?"
Daisuke nodded, taking Satoshi's hand and leading him carefully out of the room, the silence heavy and unwanted. Rubbing his ankle absently as they dropped on the couch, Satoshi glanced at the firey-haired boy, hesitant to speak.
"Are you … feeling better?"
Daisuke avoided his gaze, his hands fidgeting with the tassel of the couch cushions. Wiz, popping up from nowhere, clambered on his master's lap, and Daisuke smiled fondly, though it hardly reached his eyes. Satoshi did not like where this was going, something was clearly off.
"I'm feeling better now, thanks," he said at length, his quiet voice wavering.
"That's good," Satoshi wasn't sure what else to say, but impulsively muttered, "You worried me."
Daisuke smiled, and Satoshi was glad to see it was sincere, even if tinged with sadness, "Satoshi-kun?"
"Yeah?"
Ruby eyes seemed to hesitate, before shyly looking away, small hands tightening around Wiz.
"Will you … be my friend? Just for six months?"
Satoshi's brow furrowed, puzzled at the odd request, "Of course…" he wanted to say, 'Why wouldn't I be?' and he really wanted to say that in truth, he wanted to, and had actually been more afraid of Daisuke not wanting to be friends with him… but he wasn't sure how to express that. Since when did he communicate with guys his own age, anyway?
He might have been elated at having someone actually wanting to be friends with him, but there was still something that wasn't clicking, this whole conversation wasn't right… there was something behind Daisuke's reason, and Satoshi was afraid of what it was, whether because it was detrimental to him or the other boy, he wasn't sure.
"Thanks…" Daisuke whispered, standing up, "I'll be back, I'm just going to bring the presents downstairs…"
In reality, it was just an excuse to escape, and Satoshi knew it, but he didn't mind. Despite how comfortable he felt with Daisuke, whatever was off here had made the conversation awkward, and the bluenette felt uneasy. It worried him that Daisuke, who from the little Satoshi had gotten to know about him seemed like such an honest, sincere person who always felt at ease with others, had felt uncomfortable enough to feel the need to use an excuse to leave.
There was a sound like tic-tacs shaking in their container, and Satoshi turned to pick up the small bottle that Wiz had accidentally knocked over on the table. They weren't tic-tacs, however, but a bottle of pills, and Satoshi frowned and picked up the container, reading the label.
His eyes widened, and the missing piece fell into place explaining everything he'd seen tonight.
Six months. The pills expired in six months. That's all Daisuke had asked him to be friends for, and why this specific Christmas was important, and why his parents were so overprotective and careful with him. It explained the incident in the kitchen.
He's… terminal… the words seemed to echo in his head, over and over, and his mind was overwhelmed with the full meaning of what he'd just found out. No… his first friend… Daisuke.
He couldn't understand why it hurt so much, why it was so painful it was numb and he couldn't think straight. He'd only gotten to know him today, he'd seen worse things because of his work, so why was this affecting him so much? He almost felt sick himself, his stomach clenched and his mind floating somewhere disconnected from his body.
There was a heavy thud from behind him, and Satoshi jumped, whirling around, feeling as if he'd been caught red-handed. Daisuke only blinked for a moment, the stack of presents at his feet, but then his eyes caught sight of the pills in his hand, and his face seemed to cloud over.
"So you figured it out?" a sad smile bloomed for a second before wilting away.
Man... aren't I mean to them? And you have yet to see what I'm going to do to Dark and Krad, and later on to Daisuke and Satoshi... I felt kinda bad for doing this to Dai-chan...
Quote from next chapter: "...Just turn off the lights before you leave... and I guess I won't be seeing you around again, will I?"
MeRrY ChRIsTmaS! Review please and thank you!